Lannister Blood

8 - Broken Vows

"Keep up your pacing and there's going to be a hole in the floor," Bronn says.

"Maybe I can bury myself in it," I snap, waving him off.

He rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. We lapse into the usual silence that's been plaguing us the past few days. Finally, I drop to the floor and bury my head in my hands, brushing my fingers roughly through my hair. I don't care that my gold embroidered lavender dress is getting soiled by the dirt below. I don't care that I haven't bathed or slept in days. I don't care that I've practically alienated Stalia with my sharp tongue and harsh words. I almost don't care that I haven't received any other visions or that an invisible Grey Wind still hasn't left my side. I'm only just barely able to push the looming thought of Robb Stark's survival to the back of my troubled mind.

A trial by combat. Tomorrow. A fucking trial by combat to decide if Tyrion is guilty. He just had to open his mouth instead of letting Jaime and I take care of the situation. Cersei may believe his guilt, or maybe she chooses to, but I know father is well aware that Tyrion would never murder Joffrey. And if he had, it would not have been poisoning in front of such an immense audience. Tyrion is smarter than that. The unfairness shoots me with such hatred I can't bare it.

"Oberyn Martell is a strong and clever fighter," I admit. "But he's arrogant and seeking vengeance. It'll force him to meet his end if he isn't careful, and he's never careful. His life will end and so will Tyrion's."

"You're probably right," Bronn grunts, leaning into the wall behind him.

I shoot him a glare.

"What? I can't take the fuck down," he says. "The Mountain is an ugly beast and I'm not going into a fight I can't win. I'm rather fond of myself and don't want to die."

I shake my head. "He should've let me fight."

Bronn bursts out laughing. "You're good, love, but you're not that good. That thing would tear you apart limb from limb."

"I'm small, agile, and fast," I argue. "Mock all you want, but I'm not afraid. I would die for my brother."

He wipes the drool from his mouth and chuckles once more to himself. Then he looks me in the eye and all form of teasing is vanished from his eyes.

"I know you would," he says. "But there's nothing you can do. You're just going to have to wait like every other fuck in this city."

"I need to see him."

"They won't let you."

I narrow my eyes. "Most of my life has been spent in this castle. I know every nook and secret passage. They will not keep me from seeing Tyrion when he could die in a matter of days."

Bronn raises his hands. "Do what you want, I'm not your keeper. But your brothers did hire me to keep an eye on you. If you're sneaking around the Red Keep, so am I."

I stand up and brush myself off. I smooth back the dirty blonde hair that no longer shines with the familiar glow as it once did. I force it into a sloppy braid down my back and secure it with a fine strip of gold cloth. Grey Wind stands at attention, awaiting whatever command I give him; but I have nothing to say, for I know not what I'm supposed to do in any aspect. I look to Grey Wind and then Bronn.

"You may follow me," I say. "If you can keep up, that is."

***

Bronn manages to distract the guards long enough for me to slip in to see Tyrion with Grey Wind close on my heels. He growls instinctively at the surprised dwarf, but then sits quietly in the shadows. For a moment, I think Tyrion is startled by Grey Wind and I feel a flicker of hope that I'm not going mad after all, but I realize he's looking directly at me and not the dead wolf.