The Viper and the Wolf

A False Trial (Part 1)

A hush fell over the Great Hall as Jaime Lannister walked in, leading Tyrion, whose wrists were cuffed with steel links. He didn't need a leader as it was; he was already flanked by two burly goldcloaks. Tyrion strode forward with a resigned yet defiant air about him, as if he knew he wouldn't get any mercy in this court but at the same time ready to fight for his life.

King Tommen Baratheon sat on the throne, Tywin Lannister standing erect as a tree trunk beside him. They both looked on in stony silence as the goldcloaks helped Tyrion into the box in which he was to stand, securing his cuffs to an iron ring on the inside of the box. All the lords, ladies, maesters, septas, septons—everyone that was important enough to be able to land themselves a seat in the Great Hall gawked at Tyrion—out of admiration for having ridded them of the vicious idiot that had the gall to sit himself down on the Iron Throne and call himself King of the Andals, or out of repulsion for having committed such an underhand murder, I didn't know, although I hoped it was the former.

The goldcloaks strode away, tailed by Jaime Lannister. Tyrion set his jaw, surveying his surroundings coolly. I shrank down, praying mylong septa's cloak hid most of my face. The only thing that turned Tyrion around was when King Tommen stood up behind him, to which everyone else in the Great Hall rose, amid a rustling of thick fabrics.

Tyrion pressed his lips together, assessing his nephew as he spoke.

"I,Tommen of the house Baratheon, First of my Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, do hereby recuse myself of this trial."

A bad case of cold feet, is it not? I thought mockingly, trying as best as I could to hide my smirk.

"Tywin of the house Lannister, Hand of the King, Protector of the Realm,will sit as judge in my stead. With him Prince Oberyn of the house Martell, and Lord Mace of the house Tyrell. If found guilty...."

To that, Tyrion resignedly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath,pressing his lips together once again as his nephew stared at him indifferently.

"...may the Gods punish the accused."

With that, Tommen descended the throne, starting out of the throne room,tailed by two goldcloaks—or Kingsguard, I couldn't tell.

My heart leapt as Oberyn strode past Tywin to stand before the chair on one side of the Iron Throne, Mace Tyrell on the other side. Tywin seated himself on the Iron Throne, followed by Oberyn and Mace on their chairs, and then the rest of the crowd. I slammed my backside down on my seat so hard I felt my spine jar.

Oberyn had never told me he was going to be a judge at Tyrion's trial. For what reason, I didn't know, but it seemed strange that he would side with the same house that had done so much harm to his own.

"Tyrion of the house Lannister," Tywin began, slowly tapping his fingertips together. "You stand accused by the Queen Regent of regicide." His voice rose slightly. "Did you kill King Joffrey?"

I'm glad he did, I thought. We needed a break from that little shit.

Tyrion's lips curled down. He rolled his shoulders back, clasped his hands,cutting his gaze to his shoes. "No."

"Did your wife, the lady Sansa?" Tywin asked.

I fought back a smirk as Tyrion shook his head. "Not that I know of."

If only I had.

"Why would you say he died, then?" Tywin asked, cocking his head,leveling his stare with that of his son's.

"Choked on his pigeon pie," Tyrion replied sarcastically.

From across the hall, Jaime Lannister's head shot up in obvious surprise at his younger brother's audacity, his lips parted in shock.