Tyrion blinked against the glaring sunlight as he was marched out to face his destiny. His gaolers had told him that crowds had gathered to watch the spectacle of the most terrifying man in Westeros take on a slight and exoctic fighter from Dorne. The Red Viper had to mean something, Tyrion prayed, as his life now rested in Oberyn Martell's hands. As he walked, he saw Oberyn with his paramour. Alarmed at the lack of protection Oberyn was wearing, Tyrion felt his stomach drop.

"Looks like very light armour." Tyrion said concernedly as he approached them. Oberyn didn't even look at him as he walked over to the table next to him.

"I like to move around." He called behind him.

"You could at least wear a helmet." Tyrion noted, turning to look at the spectators. He could make out his family sitting in prime seats, even young Tommen had come to see his Uncle's fate be decided. Of course he had, Tyiron reminded himself, he was the King now. Turning back towards his champion, Tyrion sighed to see Oberyn pick up a goblet and drink deeply.

"Should you be drinking before a fight?" I am fucked.

"You learn this during your years in the fighting pits?" Oberyn mocked, and Ellaria gave a short laugh. The woman watched him over her shoulder, a smile playing at her lips, her eyes studying him in a way that made him feel uneasy. "I always drink before a fight." The Prince said lightly.

"It could get you killed. It could get me killed." Tyrion felt more fear now than he had rotting in the dungeon - things seemed much more real here, and he wasn't sure having a snake as his champion was the best idea. Placing your life in the hands of a creature that doesn't have hands was never wise.

"Today is not the day I die." Oberyn said confidently and firmly, as Ellaria placed her hand on his chest. Tyrion rolled his eyes at the over-confidence on display, but felt something deeper. Seeing the love between the two of them reminded Tyrion of Shae, and the very memory hurt him more than any axe could. Well, almost as much.

The crowd behind him cheered, and Tyrion looked over to see the Mountain enter the arena. He was even taller than Tyrion remembered, and covered head to toe in heavy and seemingly impenetrable armour.

"You're going to fight that?" Ellaria Sand's voice cut into Tyrion's thoughts."

"I'm going to kill that." Replied Oberyn smoothly. Such a strong statement did nothing to calm Ellaria's neveres.

"He's the biggest man I've ever seen."

"Size does not matter when you are flat on your back." Oberyn's vendetta would consider even a giant an easy opponent, Tyrion suspected.

"Thank the Gods." Tyrion replied flatly, a flicker of his old humour returning to him. Not for long. The horn sounded, and that old letch Pycelle stood in the foreground, ready to begin the trial.

"In the sights of Gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this..man, Tyrion Lannister. May the Mother grant him mercy, may the Father give him such justice as he deserves, may the Warrior guide the hand of our champion.." His words were interrupted by another blow of the horn; clearly someone wanted the old man to shut up so the battle could begin.

Oberyn embaraced his paramour, kissing her passionately as Tyrion looked on helplessly. Oberyn started to walk away, and Ellaria tugged him back to her.

"Do not leave me alone in the world." She begged him, her eyes locking with his.

"Never." He swore, and he left her for what Tyrion hoped would not be the last time. Catching his weapon of a heavy jagged spear, Oberyn spun it around to get familiar with the weight of it in his hands. From his spot on the sidelines, Tyrion saw the difference between the two champions, and he hoped that Oberyn was right about size making no difference when flat on your back. He watched Oberyn dance around the floor, spinning in a way that he had never seen before. The Dorenish style of fighting was much more elegant - Tyrion could only hope it would be as effective as it was beautiful. Oberyn stopped his spinning, and smiled at the crowd who cheered happily. Showing off would only drain his energy and let his guard down - Tyrion prayed to all the Gods that he would focus.

Oberyn turned from the crowd towards his opponent, still smiling broadly. "Have they told you who I am?" He asked.

"Some dead man." The Mountain roared, wasting no time in swinging his sword towards him. Oberyn did not miss a beat, matching his strokes. When their weapons seperated, Oberyn stepped back.

"I am the brother of Elia Martell. You know why I have come all this way to this stinking shit pile of a city?" He asked, his eyes never leaving Clegane's. "For you." He lunged forwards, striking the blade with his spear, and sliding backwards to continue talking. Tyrion wished he would shut his mouth and kill him, but Oberyn was intent on getting what he wanted out of the Mountain. "I've come to hear you confess before you die. You raped my sister. You murdered her. You killed her children. Say it now and we can make this quick." The Mountain let out an almightly roar of rage from behind his helmet, and charged towards the Red Viper, raising his sword. Oberyn met each stroke with equal aggression, the sound of steel against steel ringing out around them. Suddenly, Oberyn span expertly round, knocking Clegane's helmet off. The crowd gasped, and Tyrion saw his sister's face contort into anger. No man had ever managed to remove any of the Mountain's armour, and Tyrion felt a little hope seep back into him. If Oberyn could remain focused and finish the job, perhaps there would be some chance for him yet.

"Say it." Oberyn asked his opponent again, only to be met with another angry roar and sword swinging down at him. Oberyn led him backwards, still dancing lightly on his feet. As their weapons met, Tyrion could hear him speak. "You murdered her. You killed her children." The battle skills Oberyn displayed were truly astounding, as he span in the air, leading the Mountain all over the floor. Such a large man being forced to move so quickly was a good tactic; surely he would tire and weaken soon. Oberyn stood a spear's length away from his enemy, and as the Mountain approached him, he repeated his accusations. "You raped her, you murdered her." The Mountain was getting angrier, the rage etched on his brutish features. Suddenly, the Mountain delivered a swift kick to Oberyn's chest, knocking him to the floor. Any hope disappeared like smoke in the wind.

However, Oberyn recovered himself quickly, getting back on his feet and not pausing as he continued his assault, spinning expertly towards him. The Mountain threw down his sword with all his might, and Oberyn's spear broke in two, the man himself falling to the floor once again. The Mountain swung his sword underneath him, but the Viper jumped up, spinning above it. He was thrown a new spear, and engaged in the fight once more. Sword against spear, the Mountain used his weight to throw Oberyn to the floor, and as he raised his sword to finish him, Oberyn thrust his spear upwards and found a vulnerability in his seemingly impenetrable armour. The blade went into his stomach, and the Mountain fell backwards, dazed.

"You raped her! Murdered her!" Oberyn screamed once again. The Mountain still continued to fight, and Oberyn leant down nimbly and sliced his leg, causing the Mountain to scream in pain. Kneeling on the floor, Oberyn charged up to him. "You killed her children!" He screamed, plunging his spear into his chest. The Mountain lay on the floor. Oberyn debated with himself - was a confession really so important, when he lay here almost dead? He plucked the blade out of his chest, and held it to his eye. "Confess before you die." The Mountain reached up to try and grab him, and Oberyn simply plunged the spear into his wrist, severing the artery.

"Confess!"

"I killed her." He growled. "I raped her. I murdered her children." He tried once more to grab Oberyn, and got him round the thigh with a crushing grip, trying to pull him down. He succeeded, but before he could act, Oberyn had moved the spear back to his face, and was hovering over him.

"Thank you." Oberyn replied, before raising the spear and shoving it with strength he didn't know he had into the Mountain's skull. The crowd roared, and Oberyn stood up in victory, looking down at the mutilated face of the man who had haunted him for nearly twenty years. He looked towards Tyrion, who was smiling broadly, and towards his love, who was crying tears of happiness. He had won. Tyrion was free.

Tywin Lannister stood up, a face like he had just eaten shit, and spoke.

"In the light of the Gods, Tyrion Lannister has won his trial by combat. Therefore, he is innocent of the murder of His Grace, Joffrey Baratheon, First of his Name, and is free." The crowd were silent, not sure how to react. Tyrion however ran out to the battleground, still in chains, and thanked his champion. Addressing the royal box, he spoke loudly and clearly.

"I Tyrion Lannister, was innocent of any charges brought against me. I am thankful the Gods recognized this fact." He contomplated saying more, but decided that his life wa sstill in danger, and another outburst like the one in court would do nothing to help him. "Could someone please take these chains off?" One of his gaolers did as he'd asked, and Tyrion gave a small wave to his sister, who looked as if she could rip him apart with her bare hands, and exited the arena with Oberyn and Ellaria.

Ellaria could barely keep her hands off her lover, and beamed happily. "I thought I had lost you." She spoke quietly.

"I told you I would not leave you alone in this world," Oberyn said, holding her close to him. "Did you take me for a liar, sweet one?" They laughed. "So, Tyrion. What will you do now you are a free man?"

"Get as far away from here as possible." He replied. "I may be a free man, but my sister will see me dead."

"Come with us to Dorne." Oberyn offered. "You have my hospitality. Your neiece talks of you often, I know she will be pleased to see you. There are many beautiful whores in Dorne, you could fall in love with any you wish. Good wine, sunshine, tolerance. No one would call you Imp in Sunspear." Tyrion thought about the offer.

"Would I be safe there? As a Lannnister?"

"You are my friend, under my hospitality. Come, we sail tonight. Leave this place behind. You are too clever for it."

"Dorne." Tyrion mulled it over. "Beautiful whores you say? I do believe I shall go to Dorne.

A/N: Hello! Welcome to my new one shot series. Basically, any stories that are an alternate ending (normally happier) will go in here. This one was inspired by some fanart I saw by the realmcgee, which will be the cover art of this story. Any requests you have are very welcome. Next up should be: "What if Jon was made a Stark after Catelyn's promise to the Gods." I hope you enjoyed reading, this was the first story I've ever written battle scenes for. All dailogue is taken from the TV show, minus the end part (obviously..sob). Please review if you would like, and I'll see you in the next chapter!