"Joffrey is dead."
Tyrion paused, then answered truthfully. "I heard the rumors, brother. About that… I know he wasn't just our nephew… he was also—"
"I know he wasn't a good king either." Jaime let out a quiet sigh. Strangely, he looked calm. "When a child dies, a parent should be driven mad with grief. I should be tearing out my hair, cursing the gods, swearing bloody oaths, vowing revenge."
Tyrion refilled his brother's cup.
"But why do I feel nothing?" Jaime went on. "Is it because from birth to death he believed himself to be Robert Theon's son? Damn it, that pig should have died by my hand. I always said I should have done it myself, slaughtered him like the Mad King."
"Then you'd be the first double Kingslayer in history," Tyrion said. "It's a blessing you didn't. Tell me, how did Joffrey die? My crow's sight didn't catch that."
"On the way to the sept," Jaime said. "A mob blocked his path."
"Gods above," Tyrion frowned. "He didn't actually start hitting them, did he?"
"More than that." Jaime lowered his head. "The surviving guards said the king was volatile and violent. He drew his sword and wounded a beggar. That drove the crowd mad. Those beasts… we couldn't even recover his body intact. Large parts of it were missing."
"What?" Tyrion nearly choked on his wine and hastily wiped his mouth. "Torn apart by a mob? What were the Kingsguard doing? Useless—ah, not you, brother. Was this disaster an accident, or was it planned?"
"If I had been there, it never would have happened." Jaime clenched his fists. "Afterward, Cersei had the Gold Cloaks arrest nearly a thousand people. On the first day alone, almost four hundred heads rolled. King's Landing is terrified now. But no trace of a plot was found. Qyburn, the new Master of Whisperers, insists it was an accident. That day, Joffrey was supposed to go with Margaery. The Tyrell guards would have handled security, but…"
The mad Queen is playing with fire.
"What went wrong?" Tyrion asked. "The Queen didn't go with him?"
"That's right. Joffrey didn't have enough guards."
Tyrion snorted. "Our sister must be furious. She wouldn't lay hands on the Tyrells, would she?"
"That's why I came to you, brother." Jaime pulled his chair closer until their heads nearly touched. "Joffrey is dead. By rights, Tommen should succeed him. But that's where the problem lies."
"What problem?"
"Margaery Tyrell is pregnant."
Tyrion swallowed and turned back to pour more wine. "So what? If it's a son, that child should inherit. Even now, the Queen and the Hand of the King should rule as regents."
"You know her as well as I do." Jaime shook his head. "Does she look like someone who would hand over power? She refuses to acknowledge the child, at least for now. She's fabricating charges, trying to drive out Joffrey's widow. Margaery Tyrell is under house arrest."
"What?" Tyrion spun around. "Has she lost her mind? That's Joffrey's son. Her grandson. What is she thinking? The Tyrells are our most important allies. Why would she do this?"
"She blamed the Tyrells first, said they caused Joffrey's death…"
"Madness." Tyrion nearly spat in Jaime's face. "What does this have to do with the Tyrells? Joffrey lost control and swung his sword at the people! And Margaery Tyrell—she's gone completely mad? You didn't stop her? What about Uncle Kevan?"
"Uncle Kevan isn't Hand of the King," Jaime said. "Cersei told him you are. That the position is being kept for you, until you return to King's Landing."
"She dresses it up nicely," Tyrion said bitterly. "Yet she never summons me back, never sends a letter. Without a Hand, the Queen becomes the most powerful person at court, is that it? Foolish woman. Is that how power works? King's Landing will spiral out of control. And you, brother? You're Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Marbrand commands the Gold Cloaks. With both of you behind her, what can Cersei—oh… no."
"Yes." Pain crossed Jaime's face. "You know I can't refuse her. Every time I try to stand firm, she finds a way to stop me."
"With her lips, or her breasts," Tyrion said flatly. "Brother, you're the biggest fool I know. Truly. You've been used by Cersei for half your life."
"That's why I came to you. This can only be solved if you return. You know it. Aside from Father, you're the one she fears most."
"Mad. All of it is madness." Tyrion shook his head over and over. "Cersei is mad. You're mad." He repeated it a few more times before slumping back into his seat. "What are the Tyrells doing now?"
"Loras Tyrell has taken the Redwyne fleet to besiege Dragonstone," Jaime said. "Reports say Stannis has marched north with his army. Dragonstone's defenses are thin."
"That land is barren. It can't sustain Stannis's forces."
"Garlan Tyrell is laying siege to Brightwater Keep. House Florent hasn't surrendered the castle."
"The Florents follow the king they believe in, and they worship the blazing holy fire," Tyrion said. "They have no reason to kneel."
"Mace Tyrell himself is besieging Storm's End, just as he did before." Heads will crack again, Tyrion thought. "Willas Tyrell has raised troops, mostly green boys, to resist the ironmen. After Balon Greyjoy's death, the ironmen chose a new King of the Iron Islands. Balon's brother, Euron. They've seized the Shield Islands and now threaten the entire coast."
"The Tyrells are surrounded by dangers," Tyrion said. "That's why Loras rushed Dragonstone, to free the Redwyne fleet blockading the island. Did Cersei choose this moment to strike?"
No. She didn't have that kind of mind. More likely, it was blind luck.
"But if Cersei goes further," Jaime said, "if house arrest turns into imprisonment, the Tyrells won't stand by. Our alliance will shatter."
"You've heard something," Tyrion said, staring into Jaime's eyes. "That foolish head of hers is planning something vicious."
"Yes."
Tyrion drained his cup, ran a hand through his hair, and thought for a long moment.
"I have to go back."
"Bronze Yohn has always refused to crush the Vale's opposition by force," he continued. "It seems I'll have to compromise with him. We'll end this quickly, then return to King's Landing."
...
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