The Stag and The Frog - (GendryxMeera, GOT Fanfic) Part 2: Together

12b: Something needs to be done

On a balcony that overlooked the city he sat. The king who they planned to overturn. He stared into the distance as usual. As he did he saw his kingdom in front of him. He saw the board on which the game was played. He saw the past and the future. He saw the beginning and the end of everything.

But he didn't see it all. Not anymore. Because she had ruined it.

Parts of the kingdom had disappeared from his view. They had turned foggy and unclear. So many of the pieces he had painstakingly put in place on the board were suddenly obscured.

The Neck. The Stormlands. And now the Eyrie and the Westerlands.

The king knew why. He knew it was because of her. Meera Reed. He refused to recognize her new last name.

He hadn't expected this. Perhaps he should have. But Meera wasn't supposed to matter. She was supposed to stay in her swamp with her crocodiles and mind her own business. She was supposed to be of no consequence.

She certainly wasn't supposed to marry the only man in the kingdom with a legitimate claim to the throne. A bastard blacksmith who probably didn't even know how to read.

The consequences of everything Meera did were clear to the king now. Anyone she talked to, anyone she touched, anyone she loved. They all disappeared from his view as well.

He needed to stop it.

And he would start with stopping Tyrion Lannister.

Tyrion had said he had gone to the Westerlands to try to solve conflicts between the minor houses. But that's not where he had been. The king knew that.

Tyrion must have been at the Eyrie. He must have talked to his crippled cousin who was supposedly hiding there. Bran couldn't see it but he could see the fog now hanging over the place. Meera had talked to Tyrion and Tyrion had talked to Tyrek and Robin. And now they were all gone from his view.

If he didn't stop it now the whole kingdom would soon disappear. He would lose his grip on it. He wouldn't be able to do what he had set out to do. He wouldn't be able to put an end to the story.

He would deal with the hand of the king first.

Then he would take care of the girl who wasn't supposed to matter and her damn bastard blacksmith.

***

Tyrion still stood on the balcony when the king entered his study. He sipped a glass of wine. Pondering how he was turning into his late sister. Or his father. He wasn't sure which was worse.

The king asked Ser Payne to put his wheelchair in the middle of the room and then leave. Tyrion didn't even turn around to acknowledge the king's presence in the room.

"You're back," the king said, in his usual toneless manner.

"I am," Tyrion answered, still looking at the city.

"You weren't in the Westerlands."

There was no use in denying it. If the king knew, he knew.

"I was not," Tyrion simply said.

"You talked to your crippled cousin," the king replied.

"I did. But I don't think you're in any position to call Tyrek crippled..."

"What did you tell the boy?"

"You don't know? I thought you knew everything."

"No one can know everything."

"That makes me happy to hear," Tyrion said and turned around, a smile on his face. "You're not without flaws."

The wine made him feel powerful. Maybe a bit reckless. And of what threat to him was the king? He was stuck in a wheelchair anyway, he couldn't actually hurt anyone. So he went up towards the boy, who really was no boy at all, and put his hand on his knee.

"And you can't control everything," he said. "Because you can't control her. That's the truth, isn't it? Meera Baratheon is messing up your plans."

"Her name is Meera Reed," the king said as a glimmer of emotion flashed in his eyes. "She shouldn't have married that bastard."

Tyrion let out a light chuckle. He couldn't help it.

"Are you actually... jealous of him?" he asked. "You, the mighty and powerful king is jealous of Gendry Baratheon because he married your girl."

"I don't feel such emotions," the king replied, but the emotion was still there in his eyes. Anger it looked like.

"Oh, I think you do. But you don't want to admit it. You don't want to admit that deep down, under all that emotionless facade, you actually care. You're just a young boy in love with a girl. And you hate it."

Tyrion walked back towards his balcony, still balancing his wine glass in his hand. Once again looking out over the city. Feeling more hopeful now than earlier. Perhaps they could still save the city from itself.

"Perhaps that's why..." he said, suddenly realizing something."Perhaps that's why you can't control her. Because you love her. Who would have thought that love would be what brought you down."

As he said those last words Tyrion felt a sharp pain in his back, spreading towards his chest. He fell backward. The wine glass in his hand fell to the floor. He was unsure of what had happened. Surprised and shocked about what his body was doing. Confused about the wet and sticky feeling underneath him.

Then he saw him. The king. Standing above him. Yes, standing. The king was fucking standing. Out of his wheelchair. With a bloody dagger in his hand.

That was the last thing Tyrion Lannister ever saw. All the schemes and games had brought him here. Dying on the floor of a balcony in the castle. Killed by the king he had brought to power. Brought down by a revelation of love.

Was it a worthy dead? Perhaps. Is any death really though? In the end, death is just death. Darkness forever.

As he drifted away he saw them all. Everyone he had ever loved. Everyone who had let him down. Everyone who he had let down. Tywin. Cersei. Jaime. Shae. He was one of them now.

Tyrion Lannister closed his eyes. And he was gone.

***

The king put the knife down next to Tyrion's body. He made sure no blood was on his clothes. He pulled the curtain to the balcony so no one would see what laid there. Then he got back in his wheelchair.

"Ser Payne," he called out. "You can take me back to my quarters now."

As the king was transported back to the throne room he couldn't help but smirk a bit. Although he did wish he could walk there himself. But he couldn't reveal what he could do yet. That his powers had healed the injury that had made Bran Stark unable to walk. Because they still had to think he was Bran Stark.

And he wasn't. Not anymore.

He kept telling himself that. But he knew it wasn't quite true. Bran Stark still lived somewhere deep inside of him. And Bran Stark loved Meera Reed.

He chased away those thoughts. Bran Stark didn't matter anymore. And Meera Reed didn't matter. Only the task at hand did.

One down. And one to go.

***

Through his dreams, Devan heard a voice. It sounded like her. Like Brynda. The woman he loved.

The voice got louder and louder until it woke him. And he looked upon a face that looked a lot like hers.

It took Devan a few minutes to realize it wasn't Brynda who stood in front of him, it was her cousin Brienne. And she was shouting at him.

Behind her stood his father with a look of shock and despair on his face.

"Devan Seaworth," she said. "You are under arrest for the murder of the hand of the king, Tyrion Lannister."

Before Devan had time to react his hands were shackled and he was lead out of his room by the king's guard.

Author's Note: I'm sorry... but this is GOT, there were bound to be some casualties sooner or later.