Little Jokes

Joe woke to slaps on his face.

It was Bronn, of course. Only someone like him could slap this hard. Wait a minute—

"Joe, wake up, you prick."

Joe rose in a panic, grabbing Bronn's forearm and clasping it so tightly that were it not for his gambeson, Joe's nails would have pierced through the skin, "B-. . Bronn!"

Bronn raised a confused brow, "You alright? You've been out since I saw you with Tyrion."

"What? What do you mean? Wasn't that just last night?"

"Last night?" Bronn shook his head, "You were out the whole day after that. I came in and found your sorry ass passed out on the bed. Figured that Blonde las fucked you so silly that you needed the sleep."

That's when the shoddy images of that dreadful experience came back to him, and suddenly, Joe felt like he was again under the influence of the potion. The whole thing made Joe nauseous. It was like any thought of Lady Arryn was being rejected by Joe's immune system.

"Blll—. . ." Joe stopped himself from gagging. He could feel the bile rise up his throat, but he stopped it with all his might. "I don't want to talk— no, I don't want to THINK about it."

"What the fook happened?" Bronn asked.

Joe took the cup of water that Bronn handed him, "I lost," he said solemnly, "And before my journey had even begun. Fell for the oldest trick in the book too. . . Fucking psycho bitch drugged me and had her way."

"Who? The Lady Arryn?"

"BLEEJRHRH!"

This time Joe couldn't hold it in. His head was spinning, and his fingers and toes were tingling like crazy as he barfed, "That's the one. . ."

Suddenly, everything clicked in Bronn's head, and the whole situation made sense, "Hahaha!" he laughed without any care for Joe's feelings, "The great Ser Joe was taken by a Lady? Imagine the songs!"

"You'll imagine them from the grave if you don't shut up."

"What did you expect after that carry-on the other day?" said Bronn, wiping a tear, "Springtime and roses?"

"Shut up. . ," groaned Joe, "I dropped the ball, alright? Never again."

['I miss Void. He would have protected me. . .']

Bronn continued the relentless assault, "Hahaha! How's that for your mahogany!"

"Misogyny! M-I-S-, ugh, forget it" Joe tried to raise his voice but all it brought was pain and misery to his pounding head, "Seriously, not funny."

"I'll say. It's outright fooking hysterical, is what that is."

"Sigh. . ." Joe already felt like he'd hit rock bottom as it is. This kind of 'moral support' was rubbing salt to the wounds—

"Anyway," said Joe, wishing to change the subject, "I can't believe I slept a whole day."

"Aye, thought you were dead once or twice," said Bronn, letting Joe off the hook (for now).

"Could have tried splashing some water on me, at least. ."

Joe looked at his reflection in the water of his cup, "And what of Tyrion?"

"That's why I'm here to wake you. He's going to confess."

"So it's time for that?" wondered Joe out loud, "Wait! Fuck! The egg!"

"Relax," said Bronn, holding out dark-green the sash that Joe kept the egg in, "He made sure to pass it on."

"Phew!" sighed Joe with relief, taking the egg from Bronn, "Thank you, Bronn. He had no right to give it to you, but I'm glad he did. I'm not going to lie; if this fucking egg went missing, I would have killed everyone here with no exceptions out of principle. I'm surprised you didn't run off with it—"

"I thought about it, believe me," said Bronn.

"What changed your mind?"

"Just a gut feeling, I suppose."

Joe scoffed, "Pfft, that 'gut feeling' is the power of friendship, mother fuc— BLRH!"

Joe had to hold back another gag. His body kept threatening to shut down upon any reminder of Lady Arryn. The only other time Joe experienced this was when he got food poisoning eating Pizza. It took years for his body to let him eat it again.

"Anyway. . . Let's go watch Tyrion's confession. I'm sure that will make us forget reality for a while."

***

Bronn and Joe arrived to a packed. Everyone murmured with speculation as Tyrion stood before Robin and Lysa Arryn.

['Don't look at her. It's fine. Everything is fine. .']

To Lysa Arryn's side was Lady Catelyn, her posture straight and her chin pointed like the noble lady she was. Her composure was broken only by Robin Arryn's annoying tapping with a metal object.

"You wish to confess your crimes?" said Lady Arryn with a stern brow.

"Yes, my lady. I do, my lady," said Tyrion, keeping his eyes respectful.

Lady Arryn turned to her sister with a chuffed smile, "The Sky Cells always break them. Speak, Imp. Meet your Gods as an honest man."

"Where do I begin, my lords and ladies?"

What followed was pure and absolute Tyrion charisma.

The way Tyrion 'confessed' to his many sins hit even better in real life than it did in the show. For that epic moment, Joe was captivated by Tyrion's soliloquy, and memories of his awestruck days binging the TV series came back to him.

It was oratory inspiration. By the time Tyrion got to talking about the honeycomb and the jackass, most of the court was laughing with him.

Lady Arryn stood from her throne with a "SILENCE!"

Robin Arryn stood with her, though his objective was different. "What happened next?" he asked.

"What do you think you're doing?" said the Lady of Arryn.

"Confessing my crimes."

"Lord Tyrion," said Lady Catelyn, "You are accused of hiring a boy to slay my son Bran in his bed and of conspiring to murder my sister's husband, Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King."

"Oh, I'm very sorry," said Tyrion with a feigned frown, "I don't know anything about all that."

Lady Catelyn grimaced and closed her eyes. Tyrion had remembered this body language tell from the last time he sounded so convincing, and deep down, he knew that Lady Catelyn could sense his innocence. So why all this grandstanding?

Joe also noticed Lady Catelyn's inner turmoil. He could understand her thought process. Joe had sworn Bran to secrecy regarding the Jaime incident. Second, she was well aware of Joe's buddy-buddy relationship with Tyrion. Joe seemed very capable of insane, contradictory acts.

Combine this with Joe's strange secrecy alongside the strong narrative pointing toward Tyrion's guilt, and it all adds up to one big conspiratorial thread which, to Lady Catelyn, connects to a threat that could destroy her entire family.

"You've had your little joke," said Lady Arryn, "I trust you enjoyed it. Mord, take him back to the dungeon. This time find a smaller cell with a steeper floor."

Now Tyrion's frown was that of genuine disgust, "Is this how *justice* is done in the Vale?!"

Joe and Bronn smirked at each other as if non-verbally saying 'here he goes!'

Tyrion walked around like it was his dance floor — you only danced with his permission, "You accuse me of crimes, I deny them, so you throw me into a cell to freeze and starve? Where is the King's Justice? I am accused and demand a trial!"

The courtiers began to murmur once again, and Lady Arryn felt her control of the room slipping. She glanced around, causing Joe to avert his gaze, not wishing to share any eye contact. . .

"If you're tried and found guilty, then by the king's own laws, you will pay with your life," said Lady Arryn.

Tyrion gave a respectful yet sassy shit-eating grin, "I understand the law."

"We have no executioner in the Eyrie. Life is more elegant here."

Joe couldn't believe his ears, ['Did you say elegant?!']

Upon saying those words, Lady Arryn turned to the two robed brothers awaiting their orders, "Open the Moon Door!"

Robin Arryn clapped like an idiot as the Moon Door opened, and air surged against Tyrion's face. He stepped back out of instinct to distance himself from the deadly drop.

"You want a trial, my Lord Lannister. Very well. My son will listen to what you have to say, and you will hear his judgment. Then you will leave by one door or the other."

Tyrion rolled his eyes. His voice was deeper now, serious and grounded in reality, "No need to bother Lord Robin. I demand a trial by combat."

The court laughed their conserved laugh, but this time it was directed at Tyrion, not with.

But this had completely blind-sighted Lady Arryn, and seeing her dumb cunty face like that had filled Joe with joy.

She looked to Lady Catelyn for guidance, but her sister could only signal for the trial to continue.

"You have that right," Lady Arryn relented.

"My lady, I beg the honour. Let me be your champion."

"The honour should be mine. For the love I bore your lord husband. Let me avenge his death."

"I'll fight for you, my lady—"

"Let me, my lady—"

Knights of the Vale started emerging from everywhere like sprouting weeds, all vying to be Lady Arryn's champion.

"Make the bad man fly!" Robin Arryn shouted over them.

"Ser Vardis," said Lady Arryn, "You're quiet. Don't you want to avenge my husband?"

Ser Vardis stepped forward and knelt, "With all my heart, my lady. But the Imp is half my size. It would be shameful to slaughter such a man and call it justice."

Tyrion's point had been made for him, "Agreed," he said.

"You demanded a trial by combat."

"Now I demand a champion. I have that right, same as you."

This was satisfactory to Ser Vardis. He rose to his feet, "My lady, I will gladly fight the Imp's champion for you."

"I wouldn't be too glad, Ser," said Tyrion with a sense of omnipotence, "I name my friend, Ser Joe of the House Nix."

The whole court broke into a carousal of whispers.