"What do you intend to do?"
Cersei had yielded at last. Her jealousy and fear of Tyrion could not outweigh her longing for Jaime.
"What, have the Starks return my brother, of course."
"How could they?" Cersei snapped. "The Starks won't forget we took Lord Eddard's head."
"True," Tyrion said. "But we do have two Stark girls, don't we?"
"You'd suggest a hostage exchange?" the Queen Mother asked. "I claimed her wild little sister was in my custody, but in truth she wasn't. When Robert died, I sent Ser Meryn Trant to seize her, but that damned dancing master interfered and she escaped. No one has seen her since. Many died in the city that day—I'd wager she's among them."
"Trading a slip of a girl for my brother? Robb Stark would need his wits addled to agree, and I'd not stoop to it either. It would be an insult to Jaime," Tyrion said.
"But as luck would have it, I found Arya Stark—the younger one—near the Gods Eye," Tyrion went on. "She was traveling with the Night's Watch."
"You attacked the Night's Watch?" Cersei demanded.
"Of course not," Tyrion replied. "They were ambushed by brigands. I saved the girl. Trust me, sister—I never let my honor be stained."
"Then we use both of Lord Eddard's daughters to win Jaime back?" Cersei's eyes lit with sudden hope, as if Jaime's face were rising over the horizon.
She studied Tyrion. His features lacked the hard edge of a warrior's face, but carried a sharper kind of handsomeness, and for the moment, her disgust softened.
"Robb Stark would never agree. Nor would his bannermen. He holds the Kingslayer."
"Are you mocking me?" Cersei stood abruptly, realizing she'd let herself believe too much. This wretched brother was as hateful as ever.
"But his mother would agree—Catelyn Stark," Tyrion said, gesturing for her to sit again. "I've met the woman. Her mind is as quick as yours, and she shares your only true virtue."
"She loves her children." Tyrion tapped the table. "That fool kidnapped me over baseless charges. What she'd do for her daughters wouldn't surprise me in the least."
Cersei sat once more, exhaling. "At last, you speak some sense."
"And tell me—Lord Eddard's head. How did that truly come about?" Tyrion asked. "Your son has been king only a few days, yet the chaos he's caused already defies counting. Clearly, someone has spoiled Joffrey."
Or perhaps he was simply rotten from birth.
Cersei studied him. "Joffrey lacks no good counsel, but he is willful by nature. Now that he wears the crown, he believes all the more that he should follow his own whims and bow to no one."
"The crown muddles every man's wits," Tyrion agreed. "And Janos Slynt..."
"Littlefinger arranged it. He gave him Harrenhal and raised him to the council. We needed the Gold Cloaks," Cersei explained. "At the time, Eddard Stark was plotting with Renly to seize power. He even wrote to Stannis, offering him the throne. We were on the brink of ruin. In the end, we scraped through by the narrowest of margins. Had Sansa not come to me with her father's plans..."
"A foolish little bird," Tyrion said. "I trust neither Littlefinger nor Slynt. In truth, anyone who turns cloak in the midst of war isn't fit to be called an ally."
Cersei's gaze drifted toward the door.
"It doesn't matter. Bronn is at the door," Tyrion said lightly.
"But it was I who gave Slynt Harrenhal."
"It was Littlefinger who gave him Harrenhal," Tyrion corrected. "My dear sister, take a bit of brotherly advice—if you mean to buy loyalty or hand out rewards, do it yourself. That way no one skims off the top."
"You do the dirty work yourself when it's cruel, but let others play messenger when it's generous. You and my sweet nephew truly are mother and son."
"Mind your tongue," Cersei said, her face hardening.
"And whose clever idea was it to cast Ser Barristan Selmy out of the Kingsguard?" Tyrion asked.
"Joffrey wanted someone to blame for Robert's death. Varys suggested Ser Barristan," Cersei replied.
"So Jaime gained command of the Kingsguard and a place among the lords of court, while Joffrey got a bone tossed to him in the form of Sandor Clegane—he is fond of that dog," Tyrion mused. "You both had your reasons. But who can say what Varys wanted?"
"We were going to grant Selmy a holding, a tower keep. That useless old man hardly deserved it."
"That 'useless old man' would never stoop to such trinkets," Tyrion shot back. "He wanted honor, and duty. I heard two of Slynt's Gold Cloaks tried to arrest him at Mud Gate. That useless old man cut them down instead."
Cersei's expression soured. "Janos should have sent more men. His competence is far less than expected."
"He failed to keep Barristan, let a Stark girl slip out right under his nose, and bloated the Gold Cloaks besides," Tyrion said thoughtfully. "He'll be the first I deal with."
Cersei made no protest.
"You still have Lord Eddard's eldest daughter, Sansa?" Tyrion asked. "Bring her to me tonight. I'll need her."
"She's Joff's betrothed. What do you intend to do?"
"She and Arya are the two halves of Jaime's ransom. Alone they're worthless, together they're the key. I'll need them to write to Robb Stark." Tyrion frowned. "What fills that pretty head of yours, sister? Nothing but cocks and dung?"
"I warn you—"
"No, I warn you." Tyrion rose from his chair. "If the Stark girls vanish, then our brother—and the both of us—are dead."
He walked to the door, hand resting on the handle.
"I take it we've reached an understanding, then?" He held his sister's gaze.
Cersei gave a curt nod and stood.
Tyrion opened the door. Bronn was outside chatting with two white-cloaked knights of the Kingsguard—Cersei's protectors.
"Our meeting is finished, Sers," Tyrion said, gesturing them on their way. "I won't see you out."
Cersei departed, her knights escorting her from the Tower of the Hand.
"Enjoy yourself?" Tyrion asked Bronn.
"Well enough," Bronn said. "I've an arrangement to gamble tonight with Ser Meryn Trant. Ser Mandon Moore might as well be a statue—never says a word."
"Do you cheat?" Tyrion asked.
"A bit."
..
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