The Provenance || Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

4.07

As the hours pass him by with lengthy reaches, Tyrion does not find himself any more knowledgeable than he was in those final minutes of the trial. He doesn't so much as question his own conviction--he's still being tried as an accomplice, to no one's surprise--but what in the Seven Hells drove Gabrielle to blame him for such a crime. Of course, Tyrion would have been tried even if the Mock Queen herself was the one to stab Joffrey, so his stance as a criminal is not such a question. But, when provided the opportunity to place the blame on an enemy, why was Tyrion chosen?

Saying he was not more knowledgeable than before is a bit of a lie, as Tyrion quickly deduces Gabrielle did not intend to blame him for the crime, given her hearty appeal and testimony to the court under the branches of honesty. But if the crime did not go as she planned, that must mean she had accomplices? And that's what truly weighs upon Tyrion's mind: who are the enemies of the crown that he can ally himself with?

And even with another hour, the answer does not become obvious. Tyrion huffs irritatedly as his throat burns with dehydration and stomach growls hungrily. He's choosing to not regard the injustices imposed upon him today--if only to save himself the heart ache--but that does not mean his subconscious does not revel in them, leaving him overly irritated at the lechers and traitors and everyone who's played him wrong.

So he's not in such a great temperament--when the door to his cell opens--to keep his mouth shut of derogatory claims, instead shouting, "Oh, get on with it you son of a whore."

"Is that any way to speak about our mother?" Jaime asks as he steps into the cell with the golden light of a torch, sending lingering sparks in the mirrored effect of that false golden hand.

But Jaime's handicap is the last thing Tyrion's considering at that moment, standing to his feet with the fervent question, "What're you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Jaime reciprocates, and Tyrion's heart soars. "The galley's waiting in the bay bound for the Free Cities."

Without a word, Jaime rushes from the burrow of Tyrion's habitation, followed quickly by his brother whose rather struck and confused by this scenario, well considered and now playing out. He shuffles faster to match the pace and position of Jaime before Tyrion turns to him, asking, "Who's helping you?"

"Varys," Jaime answers, remembering the rather influential words of the Spider just one hour ago as he visited the Kingsguard's chambers like a shadow in the night, a vision of the past with Ned Stark.

But Tyrion, of course, does not know of this loyalty, asking with stunned surprise, "Varys?"

"You have more friends than you thought."

Tyrion keeps his mouth shut on Jaime's gesture, assuming they're closer to the above ground than the catacombs below. And just as they go about climbing the stairs, Jaime stops and turns to Tyrion with the direct instructions, "There's a locked door at the top of the stairs. Knock on it twice, and then twice again. Varys will open."

Tyrion nods with his unhindered understanding, looking at his brother with deep and grateful affection he supposes Jaime never receives enough of. With his golden hair and strong jaw, Jaime's face is illuminated by the god Tyrion once envied, but now, he recognizes no more than just the goodness in man. Of course, the dwarf wants to pull him along, to take Jaime with him on an adventure of wanderlust and potential, but all the same, he knows Jaime's loyalty belongs to Cersei. This is just a blip in his moral conscience.

So, he does not even offer as much to this lost brother of his, instead granting, "I suppose this is goodbye, then."

Jaime looks at him, and for a second, Tyrion supposes that he was wrong--that Jaime would choose him over Cersei. But with a blink of his eyes, Jaime's back to a forlorn look, pulling Tyrion into his arms with their mutual acceptance of a future apart, and a farewell to a past where they did everything for one another.