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Game of Thrones: Dwarf Become King
Game of Thrones: Dragons Dance
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"Father would never do that."
Jaime looked genuinely shaken.
Tyrion's voice rose. "Then why is he letting me rot in here for a crime I didn't commit? Why won't he lift a finger to get me out?"
Jaime had no answer. The silence said enough.
If the charge stuck, Tyrion was finished. A royal minister accused of murdering a protected whore in the middle of King's Landing? Even the king's favor might not be enough to save him.
Jeremy Lake shifted, clearly uncomfortable with how deep this went. "Lord Tyrion, the women in Littlefinger's establishments have residence papers now. They're under the protection of the realm's laws. Even a minister can't just kill one and walk away."
He gave them both a quick nod and left without another word.
Tyrion let out a short, bitter laugh once the door closed.
Jaime stared at his brother for a long moment, then turned and walked out without saying anything else. He needed to find a way to help before it was too late.
Alone again, Tyrion sank down onto the dirty straw. The sharp smell of old piss and damp stone filled his nose. He didn't give up, though. His mind kept turning over every angle, looking for a way out.
Then one name surfaced.
Littlefinger's brothel.
Tyrion's eyes widened. "Petyr Baelish."
The Red Keep gardens.
Water trickled through the fountain while a cluster of Dornish girls chased each other through the flower beds, their laughter bright and sharp. Lady Olenna Tyrell sat in the shade of the pavilion, sipping green tea like she had all the time in the world.
"Such lively young things," she said. "Makes an old woman almost jealous."
Prince Doran Martell sat across from her in his wheeled chair, smiling faintly. "In the Water Gardens they play even harder."
Any lord from the other kingdoms who walked by would have stared. Tyrell and Martell, sitting together and talking civilly? The Reach and Dorne had hated each other for centuries.
"Only Dorne grows girls this wild," Olenna said, her tone dry.
Ever since the Sand Snakes had arrived in King's Landing, the Tyrell girls had stopped coming to the gardens as often. The Queen of Thorns was still annoyed about it.
Doran let it pass. He turned to business. "House Velaryon has been accused of treason. Ser Monford is in chains. I assume you've heard."
"Of course." Olenna set her cup down with a soft clink. "Word is the Hand was so even-handed he even had his own dwarf son arrested for murdering a whore. Almost makes a person laugh."
Doran's expression grew serious. "Tywin is moving against the Velaryons. Using his own blood to do it."
Olenna's eyes sharpened. "Tywin Lannister is a clever, ruthless man. When he decides someone needs to die, very few people escape it."
"House Velaryon doesn't deserve this."
Olenna gave a short, humorless laugh. "Who does, these days? The Hand says they're guilty, so they're guilty. The Velaryons have been strutting too long. Someone was bound to knock them down."
Doran studied her. "Tywin Lannister and Lucerys Velaryon are both dangerous men."
He was asking the real question without saying it outright: when the lions and the seahorses went to war, where would the rose and the spear stand?
Olenna didn't answer right away. She turned her cup slowly on its saucer, thinking.
Both of them knew the truth. When two great houses clashed this openly, the rest of the realm would be forced to pick sides. One of them was going to fall.
After a long silence, Doran wheeled himself away. Olenna finished her tea, stood, and made her way toward the White Sword Tower.
She climbed the stairs slowly, breathing hard by the time she reached the top. Jaime was already waiting, looking tense and unhappy.
"My lady. Ser Gerold said you wanted to see me."
Olenna dropped into a chair at the big weirwood table and caught her breath. "Handsome white knight, could you at least pour an old woman a cup of wine before you start asking questions?"
Jaime's mouth tightened, but he fetched a bottle from the cabinet—Lewyn Martell's private stock—and poured.
Olenna took a sip and made a face. "Dornish summer red. Strong stuff. Not for delicate old ladies."
"It's the best we keep here."
Jaime's voice was stiff. He wasn't used to playing host.
Olenna set the cup down. "I heard your brother killed a girl and got himself thrown in the black cells."
"Tyrion was framed."
Olenna gave him a look that said she'd heard that line a thousand times before. "Every man in a cell says he's innocent. Most of them still end up on the Wall or swinging from a rope."
Jaime's usual half-smile vanished. His face went hard.
"Say what you came to say, my lady. No more games."
Olenna studied him for a moment, then nodded, almost approving. "There's the Lannister lion I expected."
Jaime waited.
"Your father doesn't seem inclined to help your brother. Am I right?"
Jaime hesitated, then admitted, "It looks that way."
"Of course it does." Olenna's voice was matter-of-fact. "Tywin Lannister is a real lion. His cubs don't face real danger unless the lion allows it."
Jaime had no answer. He had always known his father despised Tyrion, but he hadn't thought Tywin would actually let him die for it.
"I can help him," Olenna said simply.
Jaime's eyes narrowed. "What do you want in return?"
She waved a hand. "That's my business. You can think of it as me doing a favor for a royal minister and earning a little goodwill with our young king."
Jaime didn't believe that for a second, but he was out of options. "What do you need from me?"
"Nothing difficult," Olenna said. "I'll have people look into the murder and find out who really killed that girl. All I need from you is to make sure your brother stays alive in that cell until I can clear his name. A dwarf with no weapons is an easy target for anyone who wants him dead before the truth comes out."
Jaime took a slow breath, then nodded once. "I'll see it done."
He turned and left to arrange protection.
Prime Minister's Tower.
Tywin sat at his desk, sealing a letter with the Lannister lion in red wax. It was addressed to Lucerys Velaryon.
"If the man has any sense, he'll come back to King's Landing with his tail between his legs."
He had been planning this move against House Velaryon for a long time. Before Daeron even left the city, Tywin had already written to Kevan in Myr, ordering him to take control of the Lannister ships at Lannisport and blockade the Narrow Sea. The Velaryon fleet would be cut off from resupply.
At the same time, Tywin would keep writing to Lucerys himself, urging him to return and face judgment.
On the surface it looked like Lucerys might fight. He commanded one of the strongest fleets in the realm. But a fleet without supplies couldn't fight forever. And if the king's dragons entered the fight, the Velaryons were finished.
Tywin was certain Lucerys would choose surrender over rebellion. Too many great lords in history had done the same when they realized fighting would destroy their families.
The Velaryon fleet was technically the royal fleet. Most of the sailors and officers were loyal to the crown, not to Lucerys personally. If they learned their lord was rebelling, they would turn on him.
Monford was the perfect lever. Once the son confessed under questioning, the father would have no choice but to come in.
A knock sounded at the door.
Tywin looked up as the guard announced Lady Olenna Tyrell. She entered a moment later, carrying a cup of wine and looking slightly out of breath.
"Good afternoon, my lord," she said, catching her breath and giving him a thin smile.