Chapter 6 Arya, Tyrion

Arya

Arya had left the King's Road the day before, after an attack by the Gold Cloaks, who were searching for one of her friends named Gendry. Yoren had dismissed them easily, sending them back to the city.

The Gold Cloaks were looking for Gendry, but he and Arya didn't know why. At first, Arya thought they were looking for her, as she had escaped from King's Landing with Yoren to hide among the Night's Watch recruits destined for the Wall, who would pass through Winterfell.

Now Arya was fleeing, but she didn't know why, and that bothered her, because just the day before she had learned about what Robb had been doing and how he was winning battle after battle against the Lannisters. Her brother was called the Winter Wolf, because according to those close to him, ice and cruelty were felt by his side, just like in winter.

Arya didn't believe such nonsense; Robb wasn't cruel, he was just like their father. His only flaw was that he was always with Theon Greyjoy, a braggart who always boasted about the girls he had charmed…

"Someone's coming," Yoren said, looking ahead from the front of the wagons.

They were moving slowly, right next to these wagons, Arya thought, hurrying to look back, just like the others, hoping to see the Gold Cloaks with an army behind them, even though Yoren had said it would be days before they reported back, and not even two had passed.

"Not from behind, from the front," Yoren shouted, signaling for them to move aside. Arya finally felt the ground shake and heard the horses.

"It's an army," Arya thought, alarmed.

Arya hurried to help with the wagons. She was already nervous and didn't want any trouble with any army, because she wanted to reach Robb as quickly as possible.

"Kid, if you can't handle a simple basket, get out of the way," an angry hunter grumbled when Arya tried to lighten the wagon by removing a basket, but it was heavier than she thought, as it contained vegetables.

Arya felt embarrassed and angry, but Gendry hurried to help her, causing her to bite her lip. She would have insulted anyone who underestimated her, but this big guy was now her friend, and she felt they could be allies because they were both being pursued by the queen.

Arya decided to keep the peace and step aside, as instructed. Gendry, who looked like a bull, almost managed to push a wagon on his own. Arya grimaced; if she were that strong, the queen wouldn't be able to chase her, because she would have killed them all by now.

…

Five minutes after hearing the horses, they saw the approaching army. It was a troop of mounted men, but they weren't knights; they wore furs and thick beards. They were northerners, Arya thought, her heart pounding, although they didn't carry northern banners, but the standard of the Faith of the Seven.

Arya fixed her gaze on their leader, a fat, bald man with thick mustaches, who rode at the front of a row of four knights and behind the standard bearer of the Faith. A whole troop of armored men followed him, extending along the curve of the road ahead, occupying the entire space.

The army looked at them, and their leader ordered them to stop upon seeing Yoren. He dismounted and went to greet him politely, confirming to Arya that they were northerners.

The bald man spoke with Yoren for a few minutes, until a raven flew onto his shoulder, causing him to startle. Then, to Arya's horror, the raven flew from the fat man's shoulder and went straight toward her, perching on her head.

Arya swatted and drew her wooden sword to strike the raven, but it had already taken off, squawking above her. As this happened, the fat man stared at her suspiciously… well, everyone was staring at her.

Arya tried to shoo the raven away by throwing her sword at it to stop its squawking around her, but the bird easily dodged it and continued squawking.

Arya noticed that more northerners dismounted their horses and hurried to talk to the fat man, occasionally glancing at her. Arya was a bit scared, but Yoren made a discreet gesture for her to stay calm, and the raven stopped squawking above her head, perching on a high branch of one of the many trees casting shade on the road.

After a couple of minutes, the discussion among the northerners became somewhat heated, and one of them whistled to signal the others. A minute later, a galloping horse, carrying a septa, rushed toward the other men.

The fat man cleared his throat uncomfortably and pointed at her, leaving her immobile. Yoren hurried over to the man and demanded explanations. The bald man put his massive arm on Yoren's shoulder and spoke to him in hushed tones. Yoren seemed displeased for a moment and then nodded, looking at Arya.

"Kid, go behind those trees with the septa," Yoren growled. That was an order.

Arya hesitated whether to run away; it was clear they intended to verify whether she was a boy.

"Your brother has sent for you, stop being suspicious and go with the septa. She's more in danger from your smell than you are from her," Yoren scolded, and his fellow travelers let out nervous laughs.

Arya was stunned by Yoren's statement and didn't resist when the septa approached and led her ten yards behind a large tree to pull down her pants and then pull them back up, emerging from behind the tree holding her hand, leading her back to Yoren and the northerners.

"It's a girl," declared the septa. The five men, including the bald one, fixed her with suspicious gazes.

"Are you sure?" the bald man asked the septa.

The septa looked into his eyes in complete silence. The bald man shifted uncomfortably and quickly knelt before Arya.

"Lady Arya, I am Wendel Manderly, second son of Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor and bannerman to your brother Robb, the Winter Wolf. I am on a peace mission to rescue you and your sister, Lady Sansa Stark. Please excuse our brusqueness," the portly man said.

"I'm not a Lady!" Arya yelled, snapping out of her daze and feeling furious.

"Oh, that… your brother said you'd say just that. It seems we have the right person. Men, we'll set up camp here to pitch a tent for her, and you septas will take care of cleaning off some of the road dust our lady has collected on her adventure," the man said, completely ignoring her. The men nodded serenely.

Arya, who knew what was coming next, tried to escape, but it was futile as the septas brought along a whole company, numbering more than twenty. After they set up a tent, they submerged Arya from head to toe in water and soap. Brushes, sponges, and scrubbing cloths were not in short supply. Arya screamed and kicked, but it was in vain.

…

Two hours of torture later, Arya was dressed, groomed, and had cologne applied to her.

Arya hadn't resisted when they dressed her because the clothes were pants. Soft and comfortable pants, paired with boots made of white wolf skin, a long-sleeved tunic, and a jerkin of the same fabric, featuring a white-eyed blue direwolf.

Arya couldn't believe it. The septas fastened a leather belt around her, with Needle sheathed in it. When the septas' army captured her, Arya had bid farewell to Needle, vowing to avenge her sword, but now it had been returned to her, and she even had a belt to carry it.

Arya thought she was dreaming and pinched her cheek hard. She flinched; she definitely wasn't dreaming.

"Lady Arya, your brother sends his regards and hopes you enjoy your gifts. He also wants you to know not to worry about your mother and siblings, as they're all well," the leader of the septas informed her, gesturing for her to see the exit.

Arya gave her an uncertain look.

"Just remember that every time you get dirty, you'll end up immersed in water and soap. That's why your brother sent us," the septa said with a bright smile, while showing her two drawers filled with clothes similar to what she was wearing.

Arya shivered from head to toe and began to believe that her brother Robb had truly turned evil.

"Please, go ahead. No one will harm you; we're on a peace mission, in the sight of the Seven," the septa said, offering a smile that sent shivers down Arya's spine.

Arya had never met a smiling septa before, so it felt supernatural. Moreover, this woman had overly muscular arms, and when she held her, her hands felt like immovable claws.

Arya hurriedly exited the tent to escape her, but she was very careful not to get dirty. She was afraid of getting dirty, Arya thought disgusted with herself, but she couldn't do anything to prevent it.

As she left the tent, Arya saw that the camp had already been set up, and the Northerners were roasting meat with Yoren. Arya was about to walk toward him to reprimand him for leaving her in the hands of the septas who weren't really septas when she noticed a cage next to Yoren and the Northerners.

In the cage was a tall man wearing red clothes with the Lannister lion on his chest. He had golden hair and green eyes. Arya drew Needle and lunged forward to attack upon recognizing Jaime Lannister, but a second later, she was dangling by the collar of her tunic, the target of laughter from the entire camp.

Arya looked back to see, unsurprisingly, that the leader of the septas had grabbed her by the collar of her tunic, holding her with one hand while giving her a twisted smile.

"He's a prisoner of your brother. Do you want to tarnish his honor by killing him in his cell?" the septa asked. Arya bit her lip. She hadn't thought about that.

"The Lannisters beheaded Father!" Arya said, hating herself when her voice cracked and came out tearful.

"I know," was all the septa said, placing her back on the ground to stand like a statue behind her.

Arya understood that this septa who wasn't a septa had been sent there as her bodyguard. Arya reluctantly sheathed Needle and approached the Northerners and the cage.

"Lady Arya, are you sure she's a Stark and not a bear cub?" Wendel Manderly asked, provoking a lot of laughter.

"I would say she bears a certain resemblance to the Big Bear," a soldier chimed in.

"And I would say you all talk too much," the septa said from behind Arya, causing the men to choke.

"Lady…" Wendel choked as the septa growled. "I mean, head septa, we were just joking. It's clear the girl is a wolf, just like her brother."

"Her brother is more snake than wolf," the septa growled, and Arya could hear great anger in her voice. Ser Wendel cleared his throat.

"The Winter Wolf is an honorable and compassionate man, which is why he exchanged the Kingslayer for his innocent sister Sansa, currently held captive by the queen Cersei's bastard spawn," he declared as if reciting from a book.

The Northerners nodded eagerly. Ser Wendel looked at the Kingslayer, who looked… dejected.

"Say your piece, Kingslayer." The Kingslayer sighed irritably.

"I charged; I wasn't a prisoner when the Winter Wolf shot my arm," he said with annoyance. Wendel Manderly nodded contentedly.

"You see, septa, our lord is an honorable man," he said, lifting a jug of beer, which was echoed by dozens of others around him.

Arya was lost. Yoren was making faces, but it was clear he didn't understand either. However, Arya did hear and understand a part of it, so she ran to the side of the wagon where Jaime Lannister's arm was visible.

Arya saw the arm wrapped in bandages upon bandages, layered over wooden splints that immobilized the arm up to the shoulder. Arya smiled.

"Did Robb crush your arm when he captured you?" Arya asked with satisfaction, because before they killed her father, this Lannister had gravely wounded him in the leg, leaving him bedridden; perhaps that's why he was captured so easily.

Jaime Lannister looked her up and down and brought his left hand to his face to cover it.

"Gods, how much more must I endure with these lunatics?" the Kingslayer sighed, his voice laden with frustration.

"My lady, your brother is an honorable man, he wouldn't do such a thing to a noble blood prisoner like Ser Jaime. They're pure inventions of idle minds," Wendel Manderly declared, looking at Jaime Lannister once again.

"I attacked," the Kingslayer growled.

Wendel Manderly nodded with satisfaction. Arya could see that her brother had crushed the Kingslayer's arm and then somehow tortured him to make him say it happened in battle.

Arya didn't care about the nonsense of honor; she only cared about her family and what was just. She didn't care about what happened to people like the Lannisters, who had killed her father, so she looked at the crushed arm of the Kingslayer with satisfaction and felt proud of her brother Robb.

…

"Booooo… Booooo…" Arya woke up and jumped, already wielding Needle, looking around for enemies making… "Booooo."

Arya shuddered. She was alone in the darkness of her large tent. Of course, there was an army outside, but the sound came from within.

"Booooo… Booooo… Ouch! That hurts!" Bran's voice complained.

"Behave, or I'll call your brother," warned a deep voice that Arya didn't recognize.

"Bran?" Arya whispered nervously.

"I'm above you," Bran said irritably. "Scaredy-cat, if you're afraid of the dark, you almost pierced the tent roof with that jump," accused Bran, but as Arya looked upward, all she saw was the shadow of a raven and its black eyes staring at her.

Arya blinked, and her brain quickly arrived at a conclusion.

"Bran, you turned into a raven, you're the one who found me!" Arya said excitedly.

Bran didn't speak for several seconds, then burst into laughter. He sounded like he was holding his belly, but the raven remained motionless, so Arya concluded that her initial conclusion was wrong.

"Wow, silly, it's just a raven, but I can control it because I'm a greenseer, and I can control any animal," Bran explained with pride. "You also have magic, Robb, Rickon, and even Sansa, but they're just regular skinchangers, they can't compare to me," he said arrogantly.

Arya, who had heard tales from Old Nan, knew what a skinchanger was, but she couldn't quite recall what a greenseer was.

"What's a greenseer?" Arya asked irritably, curious to see what her foolish younger brother was boasting about.

"Wow, you're so clueless, you don't even know what a greenseer is," Bran mocked with a condescending tone. "Greenseers were the wizards of the children of the forest. Do you remember now?" he asked.

Arya remembered the children of the forest, who spoke to trees, animals, saw the future, and lived in the woods.

"Congratulations," Arya said begrudgingly.

Truthfully, it sounded boring to her, but her brother was happy, and she was happy to talk to him.

"Is that Arya?" Rickon's voice asked.

"Rickon, go to sleep, you'll attract Maester Luwin!" Bran complained.

"No, I want to talk to Arya. Hi Arya," Rickon's sleepy voice greeted.

Arya pressed her lips together and held back her tears.

"Hi, Rickon," Arya said. Bran snorted irritably.

"Hodor, make sure Maester Luwin doesn't come," Bran commanded.

"Hodor," Arya heard Hodor's slow voice, and her tears spilled.

"Why are you crying?" Bran asked.

Arya widened her eyes and quickly wiped her face.

"I'm not crying," Arya lied.

"Liar, you're crying, I can see your tears coming out, ravens have good eyesight," Bran said.

Arya realized that she and Bran weren't the same, and he could see her.

"Trash fell into my eyes!" Arya grumbled.

"Lie, you were crying for us," Bran grumbled.

"It's not true!" Arya grumbled.

"It is true, you missed us," Bran grumbled.

"You're crying too," Arya accused upon hearing his broken voice.

"Lie, you can't see anything, Robb can barely do it and he's been practicing for months," Bran assured.

"Both of you are crying," Rickon teased.

"Rickon!" Arya and Bran scolded at the same time. Rickon laughed gleefully.

"Crybabies," Rickon taunted.

"Hodor, catch him!" Bran grumbled.

The next thing Arya heard were Hodor's heavy steps calling "Hodor" and Rickon's light steps shouting all around that they couldn't catch him because he was the shaggy wolf, and Bran's shouts for him to stop and quit yelling. But after a few minutes, there was a noise, and Rickon complained, sounding like they had caught him.

"Young Bran, I've told you before, you must sleep, or I'll tell your brother," Maester Luwin's voice said.

Arya shed more tears.

"We got caught because of you!" Bran accused.

"Maester Luwin, Bran found Arya," Rickon exclaimed.

"Is that true?" Maester Luwin asked hopefully.

"She was on her way to the God's Eye, as Robb said," Bran reluctantly said. "Ser Wendel is with her, I recognized her when I saw her, even though she was dressed as a beggar," Bran said proudly. Arya clenched her fists in anger.

"I wasn't dressed as a beggar, I was dressed as a boy," Arya corrected.

"Arya says she wasn't dressed as a beggar, but as a boy," Rickon said.

"But it was obvious that it was Arya, she just cut her hair, how could she be dressed as a boy?" Bran complained. "Besides, I've seen many beggars, and she was dressed like a beggar, she even had fleas in her hair," Bran asserted.

Arya felt embarrassed and bit her lip.

"It's just that I had to sleep with the street dogs," Arya confessed.

"Really?" Bran asked excitedly, followed by Rickon.

"What?" Maester Luwin asked.

"Arya says she had fleas because she had to sleep with the street dogs," Rickon said. Arya realized she shouldn't have said that.

"That's terrible," Maester Luwin said sorrowfully.

"What else did you do? How did you escape from the Red Keep?" Bran asked.

Arya remembered how she plunged Needle into the stable boy's belly, and her stomach churned.

"Arya feels sick!" Rickon exclaimed in alarm.

"She killed a stable boy to escape, she drove Needle into his belly because he wanted to deliver her to Queen Cersei," Bran said, shocked.

"Gods!" Maester Luwin exclaimed.

"Well, Arya, kill them all!" Rickon encouraged.

"Young Rickon, don't say such things, they're wrong," Maester Luwin scolded.

"They're not wrong, they killed father, we have to kill them all," Rickon complained.

"Young Bran, you've disobeyed again," said the deep voice Arya didn't recognize.

"I just wanted to know why she feels sick," Bran excused himself, and Arya realized he was crying.

"Young Bran, please calm down, I'll have some juice brought for you," Maester Luwin said.

"No, I don't want to sleep," Bran complained, still crying.

"Sleep, it's better that way," advised the deep voice, and Arya felt as if something was leaving her.

"This is a problem," said the deep voice in her head.

She could no longer hear Rickon or Maester Luwin.

"What's the problem?" Arya asked with concern, because Bran didn't sound well.

"Your brother and all of you are a problem!" complained the tired, deep voice. "Every time he speaks with one of you, he gains more power, because you open up to him without any protection. Your brother is only eight years old, and he's a very sensitive child. He doesn't have your character, nor Rickon's, nor even Sansa's. Seeing things like this affects him more than all of you.

"It's not that he can't handle it, but his power is too great, and his unbridled emotions put him in grave danger," the voice said.

"Who are you?" Arya asked suspiciously and could almost see an elderly person smiling bitterly at her.

"Yes, that's the way you should react when someone approaches your mind," the voice complained. "I'm a greenseer, like your little brother. They call me the Three-Eyed Raven, but I'm too old and tired to be the caretaker of so many… beings," he added at the end.

"And Robb?" Arya asked.

"Ah, your brother Robb," the Three-Eyed Raven said irritably. "If I die before my time, your foolish elder brother will be the cause of that death," he said, and with a weary sigh of regret, he left.

Arya was left alone under the gaze of the raven, which tilted its head and looked at her. Arya understood that gesture and searched her pockets, pulling out a piece of meat and offering it. She didn't know how, but this raven would allow her to communicate with her family, and she would take care of it diligently. The raven quickly perched on her head, and Arya gave it the piece of roasted meat.

…

Tyrion.

"Wendel Manderly, second son of Wyman Manderly. Lady Arya Stark, sister of Lord Robb Stark," the spokesperson introduced, and Tyrion blinked from his position at the foot of the Iron Throne, beside his sister Cersei.

Cersei gave the spokesperson a questioning look, and he glanced at the scroll that had been passed to him by their guests, nodding to confirm what it said. Joffrey, who was seated higher up on the Iron Throne, grumbled in displeasure, but if he dared to ruin this negotiation for his brother, their lord father would hang him by his balls, and his mother must have warned him, for he said nothing.

Only fourteen days had passed since they received the exchange letter and responded to it. It would take Robb Stark a minimum of two days to receive the letter and send his brother.

The journey from Riverrun to King's Landing should have taken at least two weeks on horseback, yet they arrived there fourteen days after receiving the initial letter, and they brought carts and supplies that should have slowed their progress. Tyrion concluded that they must have sent all these people ahead before they accepted the exchange, which made him grimace, and again he heard that little voice urging him to stop this deal.

Tyrion held back; there was nothing more he could do. He looked toward the entrance of the throne room, where a tall, fat, bald man with walrus mustaches, dressed in freshly polished armor, walked with his chest puffed out, accompanied by a girl with short brown hair and peculiar clothing for a girl. She wore pants, leather boots adorned with specks of white fur, a long-sleeved tunic, and a jerkin with a direwolf etched on the chest. The wolf had blue eyes, reminiscent of the wolf on the seal of that exchange letter.

The man walked with pride, but the girl's gaze bore murderous intent toward them all, her left hand resting on the sword at her waist. Her demeanor was a clear violation of protocol, but earlier, Joffrey himself had grumbled, which also deviated from protocol for a peaceful exchange.

"Where is my sister?" the girl asked arrogantly as she stood before the throne.

Wendel Manderly cleared his throat, and the girl took a step back, clenching her teeth in restrained fury. Wendel Manderly pulled out a scroll and began to read, outlining the terms of the agreement that both parties had signed.

…

"We agree!" Joffrey grumbled from his throne.

He wasn't in agreement at all; the wretch was accustomed to having Sansa Stark beaten and didn't want to let her go from his clutches. Tyrion felt a certain disgust at sharing the sentiment that Sansa shouldn't be let go.

Wendel nodded calmly and looked back, where a pair of septas advanced, escorting his brother, Jaime Lannister, who wore attire befitting his status, in the colors of his house with a golden lion embroidered on the chest.

His brother's right arm was splinted and bandaged, but he didn't appear to have suffered greatly; he even seemed somewhat plumper, which Tyrion supposed was due to lack of exercise. What he did notice was his expression of annoyance, and perhaps a touch of sadness, which wasn't surprising considering his brother loved his sword and the profession of swordsman.

"In accordance with the established exchange, Ser Jaime Lannister is presented before you without any evident or hidden harm having befallen him," Wendel Manderly read and directed a significant glance at his brother.

Tyrion tensed up because at this moment they would find out whether his brother's arm had been crushed when he was captured, which absurdly would reassure Tyrion, or if it had happened in battle, which would make it impossible for him to sleep from now on.

Jaime grimaced as he looked at the entire royal court, his brothers from the Kingsguard who protected the throne, him, Cersei, Joffrey, the lords and ladies who bore witness to his surrender, and finally, his captors.

"I testify that I suffered no harm during my time as a prisoner, and the injury to my arm was sustained in battle when I found myself surrounded by enemies and decided to attack Robb Stark, known as the Winter Wolf, who fired a pair of bolts at me, hitting my arm," his brother concluded with a wry smile.

Tyrion was taken aback. That was a rehearsed speech he had heard countless times. The Stark truly had no honor; he had crushed his brother's arm while he was his prisoner. Cersei also realized this and gritted her teeth.

"He deserves it," the girl murmured, and Cersei, who heard her, pretended to lunge at her, but Tyrion caught her by her dress and pulled her back.

"She's just a child!" he reminded her through gritted teeth. Cersei growled but managed to restrain herself.

"This truly happened in battle!" Jaime admonished amid the wave of murmurs his statement caused.

"Of course! My lord, Robb Stark, is an honorable man, incapable of torturing a prisoner under his custody," declared Wendel Manderly, causing the court ladies to gasp in shock.

Cersei paled upon learning that her twin and favorite brother had also been tortured.

"Thank you, Ser Wendel. I owe you a favor, and I hope to repay you one day," his brother threatened with a growl.

Tyrion didn't know what methods of torture had been used on his brother, but Jaime prided himself on being tough; there was no way he would be pleased to see them proclaiming to the world that he had been tortured. And for those who were more perceptive, there was also the veiled implication that he had given in to that torture to secure his release, which would be a double shame.

Yes, if his brother encountered this bald, walrus-mustached man again, it would be his last day. Wendel Manderly nodded, seemingly not understanding anything, and looked at the king.

"Our part is done, and the prisoner is present!" he declared. "Now, please bring forth the girl, Sansa Stark, to complete the exchange for Jaime Lannister, in the eyes of the gods and the witnesses present," Wendel declared as his brother's face turned red with fury. Fortunately, the pair of septas were stronger than they seemed and prevented his brother from lunging at Wendel Manderly.

"Bastard!" Joffrey shrieked. Even he realized how his brother had been humiliated.

Tyrion frowned as he looked at Wendel Manderly. No one could be that foolish without it being intentional. That bald, walrus-mustached man wasn't what he appeared to be.

"Nephew, please calm down! We are in a moment of peace; we all must remain calm!" Tyrion ordered loudly and threateningly, causing the murmurs and accusations to cease immediately. "Bring forth Sansa Stark!" he ordered, determined to end this as quickly as possible before his brother's honor was completely tarnished.

Ser Arys quickly escorted Lady Sansa out, dressed in the colors of her house with a direwolf brooch adorning her neckline. There hadn't been time to embroider the sigil on the dress, and this girl had none, or Joffrey had broken them in one of his many fits of rage whenever news of the Winter Wolf and his exploits reached him.

"As Hand of the King, it is my duty to present Lady Sansa Stark, who has been our esteemed guest for the past months, and who has never been treated as a prisoner, always respected as the noble lady she is," declared Tyrion, pausing at the appropriate moments to avoid delivering a speech like his brother's or Wendel Manderly's, which practically declared to everyone that they had done whatever they pleased with his brother, and he had to accept it.

"I, Sansa Stark, of House Stark, declare that I have received fair treatment," Sansa said confidently.

That was the speech Tyrion had given her; he didn't want to risk the girl starting to cry and accusing Joffrey in public.

"We believe you, Lady Sansa," Wendel Manderly said with a sincere smile. "And I assure you, your brother, Robb Stark, the Winter Wolf and Lord of the North, treated you a hundred times more fairly than you were treated by King Joffrey, Ser Jaime Lannister," Wendel Manderly declared with a dry and cutting tone.

Sansa flinched at the mention of Joffrey's name and his treatment of her, innocently looking directly at her brother Jaime's arm. Tyrion felt like crying when absolute silence fell over the room.

"My lord father will have a fit when he learns what happened during this exchange," Tyrion thought.

…

"They're all idiots!" Jaime roared, slamming his good arm against the table in the private council chamber. "How the hell did they think to propose an exchange of me for a girl right at the feet of the Iron Throne?"

"They probably didn't think you'd mind being seen on the same level as a little girl!" Jaime scolded indignantly.

Tyrion hadn't thought it was that serious at the time; in fact, he had considered it a good idea. But they had played them in their own court, and sullied his brother's honor in front of the Iron Throne, and they had also made the king look like an animal who beat the ladies under his protection. Which was true, and many people had seen it—even he had witnessed it when he arrived—but no one needed to know that officially.

"Uncle, that bastard tortured you!

"I was not tortured!" Jaime shouted with real fury, making Joffrey shudder in his chair.

And he wasn't the only one, even Cersei who enjoyed enraging people, was silent, not to mention Littlefinger and Varys who could lose their heads, if their brother got too enraged.

"And this," he said raising his right arm with a grimace of pain, "It was done in a fucking battle, get it through your heads at once!" he shouted, and returned to his chair to sit down with a pained expression on his face.

"Do you want poppy milk?" asked Cersei.

"Yes," Jaime answered in a muffled tone, and Tyrion felt his heart shatter as he saw his brother nearly burst into tears.

…

"Robb Stark is a monster; we must negotiate peace," his brother said five minutes later, after taking a sip of the milk of the poppy that Pycelle handed to him with trembling hands.

Tyrion was stunned for several seconds.

"What?" Tyrion asked, shocked.

"We cannot win this war. You don't know the things I've heard; the bastard has told me, taunting me, knowing I can't reveal them. Even if I did, no one would believe me," his brother said in a subdued tone.

Tyrion felt a shiver run down his spine. His brother had said that Robb Stark was a monster, echoing his thoughts. Now he was telling them that he was tortured in ways they wouldn't even believe. That was truly chilling.

"We can't surrender. Ned Stark is dead, and the North's motto is 'Stannis is the vengeance'," Tyrion explained.

Since the first time Robb Stark played their Lord Father, Tyrion knew they had to negotiate peace, and even their Lord Father realized they couldn't win this war. But Ned Stark was dead, and there was no turning back. The North wanted their heads, and according to rumors, they were already dividing the lands of the West and the gold mines among their houses.

Tyrion never thought that with Eddard Stark's death, the renowned honor of the Northerners would also die, turning them into predictable beasts. Even with a loss in battle, after some sacrifices of honor and duty, they could still win. But now they faced a ruthless, vengeful, cunning, and excessively cruel North.

"Then pray that our end doesn't come at their hands," his brother said, rising and leaving with his morale shattered, for today, Robb Stark had taken away everything he had ever felt proud of.

Note 1: As I thought, the POV of Jaime and also Sansa will be in the next chapter. There we will see what happened to Jaime since his capture in these almost two months since the Battle of the Whispering Wood.