Tyrion Lannister
Things were caving in around them at Harrenhal. They had had a strong position, once they had come here, but disease, dysentery and simple hunger and impatience were slowly destroying their position. They were losing men, their lords were slowly either dying or they were becoming impatient, even father, the great Tywin Lannister could not do enough to stem the tide. Tyrion felt as if they were beginning to see the end, and he himself, was thinking of saving his own skin and getting out as soon as he could, the problem was, it seemed as though this was expected of him, and so he was watched night and day. It was offending but also slightly relieving, at least he'd not been forgotten.
They met in the solar father had taken for his own. The boy was there, looking dishevelled and broken, as was Cersei, father looked imperious as always. "Morning all." Tyrion says, forcing himself to speak with brightness and cheer he did not feel. "I trust you all slept well?"
"Sit down Tyrion, we are not here to talk about our night time activities." Father says gazing pointedly at Cersei. Tyrion acquiesces and sits down quietly, without comment. Father eventually speaks. "We are struggling to hold our position here. Perhaps we should have made a move sooner, but I did not think that Jaime would lose so badly a second time to the Stark boy, perhaps that was my mistake." A heavy silence follows that admission, news of Jaime's death had come as a surprise, word of how he had died even more so. "Word has come ahead from our scouts that the Stark boy is leading his host of northmen alongside an army of Riverlanders toward us, he intends to force us to do battle." That surprises Tyrion, and he can tell his father is surprised as well. "Furthermore, it appears that Renly Baratheon and his army of Tyrell and Stormlander troops is marching our way also. They intend to lay siege to us here."
"And what are we going to do about that?" the King asks, his voice sharp and high pitched. "Surely you do not expect me to believe that you, the might Tywin Lannister are just going to sit there and allow these traitors and buffoons to come knocking on our door?"
"Our army has been severely depleted Your Grace," Tyrion points out. "If we make a move to try and fight any one of these armies we could well face being hit from the rear. At the same time, we cannot afford to remain within Harrenhal, for fear of being starved out."
The King glares at him. "I will not flee from a fight imp. I am not my uncle that I would choose to flee when there is a chance to fight and win." The barb about Jaime hits too close to him for Tyrion.
"Your uncle was a fighter Your Grace, he was the best swordsman this realm has ever seen, and he was more of a man than you will ever be." Tyrion snarls, watching as anger flashes across the King's face.
"That did not stop him from trying to run like whipped cur when his army was decimated by Robb Stark of all people." The King responds. The King then looks at father and snarls. "I had thought you said the murder of his wife and his unborn child would break him. It does not seem to have done anything of the sort. You are getting senile in your old age, old man."
"Joffrey!" Cersei gasps, speaking for the first time. Tyrion watches his sister look at father and say apologetically. "He does not mean that father."
"Oh but I do." Joffrey replies his voice taking on a malicious tone. "You have a very fierce reputation, Lord Tywin, but so far I have seen nothing to suggest that that reputation has been earned. There has been a lot of postulating and plotting, but at every turn when it has come to fighting, you have been defeated. By Robb Stark or by Edmure Tully. You might inspire fear, but the thing that you need to inspire fear is not there in you. You are nothing without your song, and I think this time the song is finished."
Throughout the King's rant, father had remained silent, his face unreadable, and now, well now it seems that it remains that way as well. "So what will you do then Your Grace? Since you seem to be so convinced that you are better suited to this task then me, what will you do?"
The King seems momentarily stumped by the question, and briefly, foolishly, Tyrion hopes he will apologise, they need the old man to lead them, Joffrey is a boy, and a fool, and he, well Tyrion knows what he is. But the King does not do that, displaying an arrogance only known to him, he says. "I will take a portion of our forces and march out to face Robb Stark, and I will take his head."
At this Tyrion finds he cannot keep silent. "You do that and you will leave the rest of us undefended and potentially vulnerable to outside attack. You do that and your mother and brother will be left alone. Do you want that?"
The King stares at him, his eyes wide. "I do not care. I am the King. Stark was offered a pardon he refused, I will destroy him." With that the King gets up and leaves, a tired looking Ser Barristan walking behind him.
As soon as the boy is gone, Cersei turns on him and snarls. "You just had to do that, didn't you? You just had to antagonise him. Now he's going to ride out determined to prove you wrong, and he will die because of that."
"I merely stated what we all know to be true. That the boy is too thick to see that is not my problem." Tyrion replies honestly. His sister fumes but she says nothing, and Tyrion knows she knows he is speaking truly, for once that does not bring him pleasure.