Greetings Folks! I'm alive. Thank you for staying with the story and I hope this chapter is worth the wait.

- Enjoy!

Tyrion

Walking down the steep slippery stairs to the dungeons was probably more dangerous than any trip to the Wall. How quickly everything went to hell for us Lannisters. One moment we were dining on golden plates and rotting in the dungeons the next. Well, Jaime and Cersei, not me.

It was damn cold down in the dungeons. After an unnecessarily long journey down hallway after hallway, I finally arrived at the cell holding my siblings. Jaime sat against the back wall shivering every now and then while Cersei paced the tiny space like a caged lioness.

"How can they share a cell?" I cannot help but ask the guard accompanying me. Is this some kind of a sick northern joke or merely a convenience?

"We wouldn't want them to freeze to death," came the gruff reply, and judging by the smirk on his face, it was a little bit of both.

"How considerate of you," I said sarcastically. I only got an amused grunt in reply. I rolled my eyes and put on my signature smirk.

"Brother, Sister! How wonderful to see you!" I said in an exaggeratingly cheery voice, causing both of their heads to snap towards me. A brief look of relief crosses Jaime's features while Cersei wastes no time making me prematurely deaf.

"You monster! This is all your fault! I bet you told the pup that specific tower didn't you! You are trying to kill me and my children! It won't work! I will get out of here and I will ruin you! You will wish that you died in birth along with my mother you wretched little man!"

"Be careful there sister. This wretched little man is the only thing keeping you alive at the moment," I warned her, carefully keeping my temper in check. Jaime got to his feet with clear stiffness and placed a hand on Cersei's arm.

"What do you mean, Tyrion?" He asked.

"Ned Stark managed to convince King Robert to step down from the judging panel on the premises that he is too close to the convict. Of course it backfired a bit and good old Ned got King Robert's place on the panel but it worked out quite well I think."

"How so?"

"Well, true to his honour, Stark appointed me as a second judge as I am as connected to this case as he is for your, oh so public murder attempt on his son and heir." I gave a scathing look at Jaime who did not appear to be bothered.

"He has a spare." Jaime shrugged. "And a bastard." He added as an afterthought.

"That is not the point, Jaime. But the core of the matter is the third judge and Stark has been trying to find someone objective to balance the panel. Now as you know, that is rather hard in these parts as everyone is blindly loyal to the Starks."

"You mean, no one we can pay to look the other way. Don't you find his cooperation, even if a bit unknowing, a bit… convenient?" Jaime asked.

"Yes, I do. He is up to something…but not to worry! I will find out. His children will testify after all."

"Yes, I would like to find out where that little girl learned that trick," Jaime commented as he rubbed his neck.

"Yes it is a most… unusual form of fighting. And foreign, most especially in the North."

"Don't you two see the problem here? Whoever the third judge is is going to get us killed! He will most likely get Stannis Stoneface or seven forbid, a dornishman!" Cersei screeches.

"No he will not. He asked Randyll Tarly of all people, now we are just waiting for his response," I said dismissively.

Jaime and Cersei looked at me as if I had just sprouted wings and scales. I don't blame them. A more unyielding man is not found on earth, except Stannis Baratheon. Can you imagine a disagreement between the two of them? I shudder to think about such a horrifying event.

Randyll Tarly arrived two days later with his son who he claimed was joining the Nights Watch. By the looks of the boy I greatly doubt it was voluntary. Surprisingly the Lord of the Moat and the Tarly boy hit it off right off quickly and Lord Jon even offered the Tarly boy a place amongst his household instead of the Nights Watch. Tarly looked like he wasn't exactly happy about it but he didn't say anything.

Finally the day of the trial came about, and what a long day it had proven to be. Stark was surprisingly fair; every time I tried to steer the trial in a favourable direction for my siblings, which was almost impossible, he would agree and even pursue the leads and witnesses. It was almost too easy to lead him on a wild goose chase and I found myself wondering how the North was still standing if the Lord Paramount believed everything he heard.

When the time came to take a witness account from the Stark children things turned more interesting. Not because they had an inconsistent story but because they had a consistent one, too consistent. Either they are all brilliant liars or they cannot lie to save their lives and they know it so they do not even try. Either way things were taking a turn for the worse for the Lannisters.

"The court calls Lady Margaery Stark of Houses Tyrell and Stark to the stand."

The new Lady Stark walked confidently to the witness stand and took a seat gracefully. I immediately began the questioning.

"How is married life treating you Lady Stark?"

"Brilliantly, I dare say… well up until my husband's near murder that is. Though, that change is hardly for the worse." A coy smile lit her face.

"Oh? And how so?" I raised an eyebrow at that. How did young Stark feel about his wife airing their marriage bed to the court? Risking a glance over to said Heir I was faced with an indifferent Stark Ice mask. How young do they learn that, I wondered.

A light blush bloomed on her cheeks.

"Robb has always been very attentive to my needs. Even more so after we found out I was with child. With him on bed rest, I get to be the attentive one."

"And how is that working out for you?" I asked with a smirk.

"Well I dare say he isn't complaining." She answered with a smirk on her own, bringing a round of laughter and jeers from the northern lords.

"My Lady, where were you at the time of your husband's murder attempt?" Randyll Tarly cut in, apparently tired of our little chat.

"At a balcony, overlooking the training yard, My Lord." She answered promptly.

"Why?" Subtlety never was Tarly's strong suit.

"Robb had asked me to meet him there so that we could take a walk, just the two of us. With the royal party and all we hadn't had as much time for ourselves."

"Why meet him there? Why not just take your walk right when he asked you?" Randyll asked. Just what I was thinking.

"He said that he had business to finish beforehand."

"Did he say what this business entailed?" I could not keep all my intrigue out of my voice.

"No, he did not." Was the curt answer, much to my disappointment. I could always ask the pup about it himself.

"Thank you Margaery" Stark said and Lady Margaery stood and curtsied before joining her fellow Lady Starks in the audience stands.

As soon as the young Robb Stark took his seat the questioning started.

"What did your business entail?" Randyll Tarly was clearly just as impatient to know as I was. I watched the young Stark for any sign of deceit or nervousness but none were apparent.

"While I was here I wanted to help my brother, so I volunteered to inspect the broken towers and abandoned rooms to see which ones needed to be a priority and which ones could wait along with what needed to be done." The Stark heir answered evenly.

"I am told that you carry a sword with you in Winterfell where ever you go and I have seen the evidence of it here." I say casually while inspecting the pattern of my chair.

"Was there a question in there, Lord Tyrion?" The Stark heir asked with curiously controlled calmness. It didn't seem forced at all. I would have thought such a young and green man would be eager to prove himself and easy to anger.

"Is there any particular reason why you did not have your sword on that particular day?" I queried, studying his features carefully for any reaction. But the boy neither flinched nor hesitated and the only thing that I learned from my examination is that he has deceptively strong Stark features under that Tully colouring.

"I expected to be alone since the places I was going were supposed to be abandoned. My sword was in the way when I had to climb or anything and I did not want to lose it."

That is certainly a valid reason… and I cannot find anything else to keep him there any longer. I disappointedly waved my hand like was agreed upon and Lord Stark sent his son back to the audience stands.

"There is one witness absent, possibly one of the most important ones and therefore we cannot proceed."

This statement was met with an uproar from the northerners but inside I was dancing with glee. They really should not have sent the little she-wolf away.

"I will speak for my sister." Speak of the she-wolves.

"My lady, that is most unorthodox." I tried.

"I frankly do not care. My brother was almost murdered before my very eyes and I would like to see the culprit at least missing a hand," she said as she practically marched to the witness stands.

"Very well my lady. State your name before the court." I conceded. Damn those stubborn Starks.

"Lady Sansa of House Stark of Winterfell." By this point the northerners had, thankfully, settled down.

"Now, my Lady Sansa, what is so important that it drags your, rather vengeful, sister away from the trial of your brother's would be murderer?" I am not going to make it easy for you, I thought. I have had my fill of Starks for a lifetime.

"The North," was her answer. The silence stretched almost uncomfortably while I waited for her to elaborate on her own but she just sat there calmly. I opened my mouth to ask her to elaborate but Tarly beat me to the punch.

"The North is more important than your brother's attacker?"

"Why, yes my Lord. You can hardly think the North runs itself, do you?"

"So the North is being run by an eleven year old girl?" I asked, amused.

"An eleven year old girl and an eight year old boy. A Stark's first duty is to its people. That is why there must always be a Stark in Winterfell," Lady Sansa answered promptly.

"Yes, but now there is two." I point out.

"Mother left the lady's duties on the shoulders on an untrained eight year old. Arya simply left to support Rickon." Of course there is an answer to that. What are they, greenseers? They must have practised this or something. I was getting quite frustrated. Maybe it is time to play the crowd.

"And are the northern lords happy with being led by an eight year old green boy and an eleven year old wildling girl?" I raised my voice slightly to make sure I was heard. I never broke eye contact with Lady Sansa and even let a slight smirk play on my lips. She simply raised an eyebrow which confused me until I hear a shout;

"They are both Starks and that is good enough for me!"

My eyes snap to the owner of the voice. A giant of a man with a fierce expression on his face. His declaration was followed by many similar shouts as the rest of the Northerners jumped to their feet declaring their undying loyalty to the Starks. My eyes snapped back to Lady Sansa's, seeing the twinkle with mischief and a smug smirk playing on her own lips.

"You got me there she-wolf, you got me there." I muttered to myself as I wondered, not for the first time, if the Starks are pulling wool over our eyes. Next to me Lord Stark stood up to calm his fellow lords.

"Thank you, my Lords, for your show of loyalty but I am afraid that I will have to call for order for this trial to continue." And just like that they all sat down. Unbelievable. Tarly was not much for delays as he continued;

"Reports say that you and your sister were in the training yard at the time of the attack."

"Yes we were."

"Why." Isn't the man charming? I can't help but think at his tactless tactics.

"We were watching the southern knights practising."

"I imagine you were enthralled by their grace." I cannot help but shoot at her, waiting for the blush.

"Oh, not at all," she laughed. "Arya was having a running commentary on what they were doing wrong. Let's just say that she hadn't stopped talking for half an hour and leave it at that," she finished giggling and bringing laughter and jeering from the northerners. It was getting quite annoying.

"Lady Sansa, after your sister quite impressively apprehended Ser Jaime, to which we will come back to later, you two had quite the interesting discussion, mainly Valar Morghulis and Valar Dohaeris. Care to inform the court of the meaning and origins of those words?" Let's see how you wiggle yourself out of that one.

"Well of course. Valar Morghulis and Valar Dohaeris is a common greeting across the Narrow Sea. The language is High Valyrian though there is not much else I can say in that language," she finished a little sheepishly.

"And the meaning, Lady Sansa." I prompted. I am not letting her get the easy way out. Looking me straight in the eye she answers;

"All men must die and all men must serve." The way she said it gave me a little chill.

"Any particular reason those words were exchanged?"

"Because they are true." Our staring contest resumed and I have to admit I am impressed with her resolve. When it becomes clear she is not going to elaborate any further I move on, surprised that Tarly hasn't already.

"Who trained your sister?"

A wicked smile spreads across her face.

"No one."

"With moves like that I highly doubt it" I challenge with a raised eyebrow.

"But it is true. No one trained my sister."

I am positive that I heard a scoff coming from Lord Stark.

"Stop playing games my lady and answer the question. Who. Trained. Your. Sister."

"I am telling you! NO ONE DID!"

That wicked smile never left her lips but before I could pressure her more Lord Stark butted in.

"Thank you Sansa, you may go."

I did not miss the ghost of a smile on Lord Starks face. What am I missing?

"The court calls Lady Cersei Baratheon of Houses Lannister and Baratheon to the witness stand."

Now the real show begins. If this does not go as it needs to, everything else has been for nothing. I watch my sister stride haughtily to the witness stand, seemingly heedless of the two guards following her.

"Is Jaime Lannister the father of your children?" I think Tarly missed some etiquette lessons as a child. I discreetly shook my head at her, begging her to deny the claims and give us at least a snowballs chance in hell to see this through.

"Of course he is. Like I would carry the spawn of that whoring drunkard," she sneered, leaving my prayers unanswered. On the upside, she left Tarly speechless.

"And the death of Jon Arryn?" Lord Stark asks. My head whips around and I stare at him incredulously. Now he starts his questioning?

"He was always so noise. Always sticking his nose where it didn't belong. But someone else got to him before I could," she said haughtily and I sunk just a little in my chair, trying to hide from the world because Stark was not through with his questioning.

"Rumour has it Stannis Baratheon fled the capitol. Did he also know about your illegitimate children?"

"I suppose, maybe I should have slipped him some poison." I placed my head in my hands. Why does her pride and temper always get in the way? At the rate she is going, she is going to have us all hung by supper.

"That's it you traitorous whore! I will have your head! Yours and your brats and your backstabbing brother!" King Robert thundered in with what must be the same murderous rage that killed the dragon prince.

"No you won't you son of a bitch! I demand a trial by combat!" Cersei screeched right back and the court room descended into chaos. Cersei and the king were screaming at each other the northerners demanded justice. People of the royal party were throwing insults at the northerners. The riverlords got caught in the middle. It was madness and it looked to be descending into a melee. A frightening howl pierced the madness and everything stopped.

"Thank you, Grey Wind. Now if everybody would please return to their seats while we deliberate." Lord Stark said in a tone that brokered no argument.

"What is there to deliberate Lord Stark? She demanded a trial by combat." Tarly said.

"The children. They have done nothing and do not deserve to die for the sins of their parents."

"Put them with their next of kin." Tarly said, clearly finished with this discussion.

"Tywin Lannister?" Lord Stark asked.

"I agree with Lord Stark, Lord Tarly. I will take responsibility for my nephews and niece." I say shuddering to think what monstrosities the Lion of the Rock would do to them once this becomes public knowledge. Though on second thought, Joffrey may deserve it.

"Very well." Lord Stark said before standing up, effectively turning the room's attention to himself. "Lady Cersei of House Lannister has demanded a trial by combat, who will be your champion?" he directed the last part to Cersei.

"Ser Jaime Lannister."

"And will you also demand a trial by combat yourself, Ser Lannister?" Lord Stark asked Jaime, who had been between two guards against the wall for the entire trial.

"Aye." Jaime answered arrogantly.

"Then both of you will die if you fail, and both of you will walk free if you emerge victorious. Who will be the champion of the gods?"

There was some hesitation, after all despite his crimes, Jaime was still the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. There seemed to be a fierce but hushed discussion amongst the Starks that drew many eyes to them. The Lady of the Moat was not happy and she held onto the bastard Stark like her life depended on it. On the other hand Lady Sansa seemed to be furiously ranting away at the heir to the North who seem none to inclined to take it laying down. It looked like his southern rose was begging him for something, the way she hung on his arm with tears in her eyes. The current Lady Stark said something only for the three Starks to simultaneously turn and snap at her before resuming their argument. They seemed to have come to a conclusion as the Lord of the Moat stood up.

"I will be the champion of the gods."

"Then let the will of the gods take place at noon tomorrow." Lord Stark concluded and dismissed court.

Watching Jaime walk into the training yard in grey full plated armour and a sword in hand lifted a weight off of my chest. Both because there is still some value to the Stark honour and that my brother does still have some sense even though he chooses not to use it most of the time. My Father always said that the Stark honour is going to kill them someday and it seems that today they are going to be a member short. I cast my eyes over to Jon's light leather and chainmail as he rolled his sword in his hand. Stark began the combat and Jaime and Jon began to circle one another. Then Lady Sansa called out to her brother;

"Jon, just remember Arya's advice!"

At that a faint smile appeared on Jon's face and Jaime laughed tauntingly.

"And what advice did the wayward She-wolf give?"

"To stick you with the pointy end."

No sooner than the words left his mouth did he lunge forward and do just that. His sword went to Jaime's side and came back with blood. It must have simply graced him because Jaime showed no indication at having felt it besides shock. The crowd gave a loud cheer but it quickly died down as they began circling each other again. Surprisingly it was Jon who initiated the taunting this time.

"Do you want to know what Rickon said?"

"And what does baby pup have to say?"

"To drink your blood."

And then they clashed. Jaime swung his sword in a very fast paced pattern but Jon blocked him at every turn and even landing a few hits, though none with his sword but it was evidently infuriating Jaime. He was stooping to dirty tricks that somehow Jon still blocked. After a while they went back to circling each other, both a bit out of breath but Jaime was almost spitting fire while Jon had a more relaxed version of the Stark Ice mask in place. I must say I am impressed that he managed to survive this long, let alone hold his own, though it does not bode well for us. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat and casting my eyes over the audience. It seems Jon's wife missed a few lessons in the art of the Ice mask, her worry is written clearly all over her face. My attention was brought back to the combat when Jaime all but spat;

"Is that all you got bastard!"

"You don't grow up a bastard without learning some tricks."

He had the gall to smirk. Again Jaime charged, a little sloppier, but deadly nonetheless, and again Jon met him in every strike. I had to hand it to the boy, he can fight. Then suddenly just as it seemed Jaime was going to overpower Jon, Jon fell backwards and rolled out of the way to swing his sword upwards at Jaime, who had stumbled when Jon stopped supporting him.

The scream of pain will forever be edged in my memory and the scene would probably inspire some nightmares on its own. Jaime was on his knees staring at his hands, or rather hand. His right hand laid in front of him still wrapped around his sword and the stump of his right arm was bleeding profusely. Many shocked gasps and shrieks of disgust were heard from the audience, but the show was not over yet. Jon appeared before my brother, as if out of thin air, with a goblet in hand. He took a hold of Jaime's stump and guided it over the goblet. I watched transfixed at the blood flowing into the goblet, helpless to do anything to help my brother. Then Jon took a few steps back, never breaking eye contact with Jaime, and took a sip from the goblet. Talk about drinking the blood of your enemies.

"Not bad, shame you Lannisters don't bleed gold."

Again, he had the gall to smirk. I watched with dread as blinding rage overcame Jaime's features and with an enraged cry he grabbed his sword in his left hand and began swinging it madly at Jon, reminding me disturbingly of Joffrey. It was in that moment, when Jon simply sidestepped or bent his back a little to avoid Jaime's wild swings, all the while drinking from the goblet that I knew I was wrong. The Starks are not going to be a member short today. The Lannisters are, according to how the past few weeks have gone, a good six members short. It was then that Jaime got tired of not hitting his target and made a fatal mistake.

"You think this will impress your whore of a wife?"

Jon abruptly stopped, the smirk falling of his face and the steely Ice mask was back. He tilted his hand and let the rest of the blood in the cub drip to the ground before he threw the goblet away. One well aimed kick later, Jaime was back on his knees, this time with a snarling direwolf in his face. Well, not literally… this time.

"Insult me all you want. Taunt me, disgrace me, mock me all you want. But never, ever, even dare utter a word about my wife!"

With that Jaime lost his head.

"You scum! My father will rain hell upon you barbarians!" Cersei screamed at the top of her lungs. The proud lioness was brought to her knees and all dignity seemed to have left her. The guards brought my still ranting sister to the chopping block in the middle of the training yard where not ten minutes earlier my brother's body laid. I fully expected good ol' Ned Stark to do the honours but when I saw Robb Stark limp out towards his father with his cane and take Ice from the scabbard I was shocked. Beheading a man was no easy picking. How could Stark even think about possibly letting the boy humiliate himself like this. Robb's wife stood a little ways of to the side, joined by Lord Stark, nervously wringing her hands and touching her visibly pregnant stomach.

Robb stood over Cersei, both hands on Ice, the sword safely pointing down.

"Do you have any last words?"

"You will all burn in hell, you heathens!" Cersei screeched. Robb did not seem surprised.

"Very well, In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, I, Robb of the House Stark, heir of Winterfell, sentence you to die."

He lifted the great sword and just as he was about to bring it down on Cersei's neck a high-pitched shout halted all movement. Joffrey ran towards Robb, his own sword high aloft placed to strike the heir of the North. Robb didn't move until the last possible moment and then blocked the strike, disarmed Joffrey and delivered an elbow to the blonde's face, bringing Joffrey to an awfully similar situation to Jaime not half an hour ago.

Joffrey lay on the ground whimpering pitifully and holding his broken nose with Robb staring stoically at him. Lord Stark moved to his son's side and started whispering something in his ear. Robb nodded and turned back towards Cersei, repeating the sentence. Again Robb raised the great sword over his head, then Joffrey decided to doom us all. He stood up and ran towards the Lady Margaery, who stood alone now that Lord Stark had moved over to his son, and pushed her to the ground. Hearing his wife's startled scream, Robb spun around and whistled.

"Since you will take my mother, I will take your child!" Joffrey screeched at Robb and drew a knife from his boot.

That was evidently the wrong thing to say as Robb's face twisted into a snarl, and if I had been closer I no doubt would have heard him growl, before the ice mask, that we seem to be seeing quite often here, fell into place. I've always found that mask disturbing. It is impossible to read and therefore makes the Starks unpredictable. And the most dangerous people are the ones that are both honourable and unpredictable.

When Joffrey turned back to strike Lady Margaery his hand was nearly bitten off by a big grey direwolf. Joffrey shrieked and backed away and that was when Robb took five large steps like he hadn't been hurt at all. Joffrey turned as if to run away from the wolf. Robb swung Ice in and upwards motion at Joffrey, who was practically running himself through, and separated his right hand from the arm, the knife still in it. Robb did not stop there and quickly twirled a whole circle to get the most swing on the great sword and beheaded the still standing former crown prince as easily as one would cut through butter. That was clearly the end to the Stark's patience because he swiftly strode over to a wailing Cersei and took her head as well.

- Until next time!