The Prince of Thorns

Scar's

Tyrion wakes to echos of the sounds of battle. Grand Maester Pycelle's face comes into focus. Tyrion's head is crudely bandaged, with only one eye revealed. He is disoriented.

TYRION: "Pod."

Podrick bursts into the room

TYRION: "Pod! Find Bronn or Alester. Tell them I am here with Maester Pycelle. Tell them I am very much alive."

PODRICK: "Yes, my lord."

PYCELLE:" Would you like something for the pain?"

TYRION: "What happened?"

PYCELLE: "The murderer and traitor Stannis Baratheon suffered a stunning defeat at the hands of your father."

TYRION: "Where am I?"

PYCELLE: "These are your new chambers. A little cramped, perhaps, but you don't need much room, do you? You are no longer Hand of the King."

Pycelle turns and begins to leave. A thought occurs to him. He takes out a coin and flicks it to Tyrion.

PYCELLE: "Oh, For your trouble."

Pycelle exits.

-------------------------------

In the Throne room there's a large gathering of people. Alester stand nexts to Myrcella. He eyes his siblings from across the way, still not exactly happy with them for their siding with Renly.

A white horse expels manure at the doorway leading to the throne room. Lord Tywin Lannister rides the horse in, through the gathered crowd. From his throne, King Joffrey addresses the room. 

JOFFREY: "I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the savior of the city and the Hand of the King."

Bowing, a page presents a pillow to Joffrey, who places the Hand's brooch up to Tywin. Tywin bows.

TYWIN: "Thank you, Your Grace."

He turns his mount and exits.

JOFFREY: "Lord Petyr Baelish, step forward."

Lord Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish steps forward and kneels before Joffrey.

JOFFREY: "For your good service and ingenuity in uniting the Houses of Lannister and Tyrell, I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harrenhal with all its attendant lands and incomes to be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time."

LITTLEFINGER: "You honor me beyond words, Your Grace. I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons."

The crowd laughs

JOFFREY: "Ser Loras Tyrell."

Ser Loras Tyrell steps forward from the crowd and kneels.

JOFFFREY: "Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours."

LORAS: Your Grace, my sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before... She remains innocent. I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honor of joining our houses.

JOFFREY: "Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?"

Lady Margaery takes a few steps forward. The anger on Alester's face speaks how he feels.

MARGAERY: "With all my heart, Your Grace. I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me."

JOFFREY: "I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady. It would be an honor to return your love, but I am promised to another. A king must keep his word."

CERSEI: "Your Grace, in the judgment of your Small Council, it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason, a girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne as we speak. For the good of the realm, your councilors beg you to set Sansa Stark aside."

The crowd murmurs.

Of course, this is the Queen mothers bidding, Knows Alester.

CROWD: "Margaery! We want Margaery!"

Joffrey stands and gestures to quiet the crowd.

JOFFREY: "I would like to heed your wishes and the wishes of my people, but I took a holy vow."

PYCELLE: "Your Grace, the gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn, but your father, blessed be his memory, made this pact before the Starks revealed their falseness. I have consulted with the High Septon, and he assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you have made to them in the sight of the gods."

Cersei looks across to Sansa. Cersei is pleased and Sansa is quite worried.

JOFFREY: "The gods are good. I am free to heed my heart. Ser Loras, I will gladly wed your sweet sister. You will be my queen and I will love you from this day until my last day."

The crowd applauds except for one man.

Sansa walks away, quite solemn. Once she is out of view, she smiles and laughs in relief. Littlefinger catches up to her.

LITTLEFINGER: "My lady. My sincerest condolences."

SANSA: "They're right. I'm not good enough for him."

LITTLEFINGER: "You shouldn't say that. You'll be good enough for many things. He'll still enjoy beating you. And now that you're a woman, he'll be able to enjoy you in other ways as well."

SANSA:" But, if he's not marrying me-"

LITTLEFINGER: "He'll let you go home? Joffrey's not the sort of boy who gives away his toys. You have a tender heart, just like your mother did at your age. I can see so much of her in you. She was like a sister to me. For her sake, I'll help get you home."

SANSA: "King's Landing is my home now."

LITTLEFINGER: "Look around you. We're all liars here. And every one of us is better than you."