DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 2 - CLASH OF THE KINGS

Tyrion II

The day of Tyrion's trial had dawned, and he had taken his breakfast and donned his finest attire, preparing himself for the ordeal ahead. Seated upon his stone cot, Tyrion's contemplations were interrupted by the sight of Jaime peering through the small window of his cell. With a nod to the guards, Jaime gained entry and stepped inside.

"Jaime," Tyrion greeted his brother, a touch of sarcasm lacing his words. "Let me guess, I've been pardoned?"

Jaime offered no response, merely gesturing to the guards who moved forward to secure Tyrion in manacles.

"Really?" Tyrion arched an eyebrow, his tone a mixture of resignation and defiance.

Jaime shrugged, his expression betraying a hint of discomfort. "Father's orders."

"Gods forbid we disappoint Father," Tyrion quipped. "Please, lead on."

He was to be tried in the throne room, and with Jaime at his side, Tyrion was escorted through the imposing bronze doors of the Red Keep. Tyrion was led to the accused dais, making their way down the long, carpeted corridor. He took in the room, with the weight of countless eyes upon him. Tyrion couldn't help but feel the significance of the moment pressing down upon him.

Hundreds had crowded in to see his trial. At least he hoped that was why they had come. For all I know, they're all witnesses against me. He spied Queen Margaery up in the gallery. She sat with her ladies-in-waiting and her father's household knights packed the rest of the gallery.

The accused dais awaited him, positioned beneath the imposing presence of the Iron Throne where Tommen sat, flanked by Lord Mace Tyrell and Lord Petyr Baelish. And at the head of it all, his father, Lord Tywin Lannister, the formidable figure of authority, who was to preside over the proceedings.

Once Tyrion was escorted to the accused dais, his shackles were removed, and he rubbed his wrists, feeling a fleeting sense of relief. Across the room, Tywin Lannister gestured to King Tommen, prompting the young monarch to rise from his seat. A hush fell over the room as Tommen spoke, his words carrying the weight of royal authority.

"I, Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of my Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, do hereby remove myself from this trial," Tommen declared solemnly. "Tywin of the House Lannister, Hand of the King, shall preside as judge in my stead. And with him, Lord Petyr Baelish and Lord Mace of the House Tyrell. And if found guilty, may the gods punish the accused."

With that, Tommen departed, leaving a palpable tension in his wake. The assembled courtiers took their seats, save for Tyrion, who remained standing as the High Septon began with a prayer, invoking the guidance of the Father Above.

Tywin leaned forward, his gaze piercing as he addressed Tyrion. "Tyrion of the House Lannister, you stand accused by the Queen Regent of regicide. Did you kill King Joffrey?"

"No," Tyrion replied, his voice steady despite the weight of the accusation.

"How, then, would you explain his death?" Tywin pressed, his tone sharp with suspicion.

"The gods decided Joffrey's fate," Tyrion countered, his words tinged with bitterness. "He choked on his pigeon pie."

Lord Tyrell's frown deepened. "So you would blame the bakers?"

"Them, or the pigeons. Just leave me out of it." Tyrion's attempt at levity was met with nervous laughter, but the gravity of the situation soon pressed upon him, and he regretted his choice of words.

"There are witnesses against you," Lord Tywin's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "We shall hear them first. Then you may present your witnesses. You are to speak only with our leave. Let the crown call its first witness."