Silver Stag

News; Both Good And Bad

[King's Landing - Red Keep, Gardens]

Lady Sansa Stark and Lord Tyrion Lannister strolled side-by-side through the gardens on a beautiful day. Shae followed, a few paces back. Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall passed, snickering at them.

"Hmm. Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall. Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall." Tyrion muttered.

"What are you doing?" Sansa asked.

"I have a list."

"A list of people you mean to kill?"

"For laughing at me? Do I look like Joffrey to you? No, death seems a bit extreme. Fear of death, on the other hand-"

"You should learn to ignore them."

"My lady, people have been laughing at me far longer than they've been laughing at you. I'm the Halfman, the Demon Monkey, the Imp."

"You're a Lannister. I am the disgraced daughter of the traitor Ned Stark."

"The disgraced daughter and the Demon Monkey. We're perfect for each other."

Sansa laughed.

Tyrion realized that Shae overheard that comment. He looked back, embarrassed, and she returned his look, cooly.

"So how should we punish them?"

"Who? Whom?"

"Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall."

"Ah. I could speak to Lord Varys and learn their perversions. Anyone named Desmond Crakehall must be a pervert."

"I hear that you're a pervert."

"I am the Imp. I have certain standards to maintain."

Sansa chuckled. "We could sheep shift Lord Desmond's bed. You cut a little hole in his mattress and you stuff sheep dung inside. Then you sew up the hole and make his bed again. His room will stink, but he won't know where it's coming from."

"Lady Sansa!" Tyrion gasped, jokingly.

"My sister used to do that when she was angry with me. And she was alwys angry with me."

"Why sheep shift?"

"That's the vulgar word for dung."

"My lady-"

"Well, you asked me."

Podrick Payne ran down the steps of the garden, looking for Tyrion.

"Oh! That's him!" A girl pointed in Tyrion's direction.

"My lord, my lady. Your father has called a meeting of the small council."

[Red Keep - The Hand's Chambers]

Tyrion entered his father's chambers. Inside, Lord Tywin Lannister, Queen Cersei Lannister, Varys, Princess Aelinor and Grand Maestar Pycelle were already seated. King Joffrey Baratheon walked behind his grandfather, excited and grinning.

"Killed a few puppies today?" Tyrion asked.

"Show him. Come on, show him." Joffrey urged.

Hand shaking, Pycelle offered a scroll to Tyrion. He dropped it before Tyrion could grab it.

"Oh, apologies, my lord. Old fingers."

Annoyed, Tyrion reached to the floor and snatched the scroll. He read it as Joffrey was manic with energy.

"'Roslin caught a fine fat trout. Her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding. Signed Walder Frey.' Is that bad poetry or is it supposed to mean something?"