Geralt returned to Red Keep to find it locked down. The guard was doubled, and every entrance was blocked. He attempted to enter by reasoning with the Gold Cloaks.

"Might I enter? I have business with the court, if you don't mind."

"Nope. Keep's on lockdown, no one's allowed in, so move along."

Geralt sighed. He formed the Axii sign with his hands. "You'll step aside and let me in or else."

The two guards stepped aside in trance. "Right. Go on in."

Geralt snuck past a few dosing guards. He made a turn to enter the throne room when he saw several more gold cloaks coming toward him.

"Stop! Stop right there you brigand!" The men drew their swords and ran towards him.

Geralt drew his as well and waited for them to practically walk into his blades. Right before the guards could attack, someone spoke.

"Enough! Do him no harm."

Several Lannister guards appeared with torches, and behind them was no other than Tywin Lannister.

"Geralt, you're out a bit late aren't you? Surely you must be here to mourn your protegee?" The tone of his voice clearly hinted to play along.

"Right. Of course, my lord. Just had a hard time getting in."

"Of course. Walk with me. Alone," The Lannister guards stayed behind, handing Tywin a torch before he and Geralt walked away. As soon as they were out of earshot, he spoke again. "You do understand what went on at my grandson's wedding?"

"Yes. He choked to death."

Tywin scoffed. "Please, don't play stupid with me. The boy was poisoned. And do you know who's been blamed?"

"Tyrion…and Sansa. Who had nothing to do with it."

"You don't think so? Who else had better reason?"

"Probably no one, but I've heard Joffrey wasn't exactly well liked."

"That's true. The boy was a brute, hot-headed and belligerent. But still, he was a Lannister and his death mustn't go unavenged. And Cersei will not rest until then."

Geralt remained silent as the came to the Tower of the Hand. Of course, he suspected Tywin was about to ask him to do something.

"There will be a trial for Tyrion. He will likely be found guilty and promptly executed."

Geralt looked at him disgusted. "He's your son. You won't really execute him, will you?"

Tywin sighed. "It's not actually up to me, but I suspect his brother Jaime will try some stunt to save his miserable little life. The point is, there will be witnesses for the trial, so I leave you with this: You can testify for the Crown, and be left in peace, perhaps even given a knighthood or a position in the Kingsguard, or you can testify for Tyrion. In that case, it is unlikely you will leave King's Landing alive. Is that clear?"

Geralt understood now. It wasn't a favor Tywin was asking, it was a threat. Geralt straightened up and used the flickering torch to illuminate his glowing eyes. "Yes that's clear. What's also clear is that I don't have to listen to you, or play by your rules. I make my own rules and if you try and stop me from leaving this castle, I'll make sure I take you and your wretched family with me. Is that clear?"

For a moment, Geralt saw fear in Tywin's eyes and some humiliation. His pride had just been challenged and somewhat wounded.

"You will regret this insult. For now, take some time and weigh your options." Tywin slammed the door to his chambers in Geralt's face.

The next morning everyone in the castle left to attend the viewing of Joffrey's body in the Sept of Baelor. Geralt attempted to follow, but got lost more than once, so he returned back to the Red Keep. After a few hours of trying to visit Tyrion, he was summoned by a Lannister guard.

"Ser Geralt, the Queen commands your presence."

Geralt sighed. "I told you, I'm not-," He gave up in the middle of the sentence, figuring if they didn't get it now, they never would. "Which one?"

"The Queen Regent, Cersei Lannister."

"Joy," Geralt said monotonously as he followed the guard to the Queen's chambers. She sat waiting for him, not looking quite as radiant or as beautiful as before, as if the death of her son killed a small piece of her. Nonetheless, she motioned for Geralt to sit.

"Your Grace, I offer my deepest sympathies to you. No mother should have to bury her child."

"Thank you, but I know you're not sincere. You don't sound like it, at least. You have the same tone for every expression; I'm fairly certain you have no emotion."

"I do, just can't express them like normal people can."

Cersei smiled weakly and slid him a glass of wine. "So that's your front, is it? You tell yourself not to feel, so you think you don't?"

"I don't tell myself anything. I do feel, just as much as anyone else, and I know I do, I just don't show it very much."

Cersei sipped from her glass. "Did you feel sympathy then? When my son died before your eyes?"

Geralt cautiously sniffed the wine for any hints of poison. Not detecting any, he took a small sip, deciding to go slow to make sure he felt the effects if it was. "I did. I didn't like Joffrey much, not at all really, but I can't imagine losing a child. I speak from experience too, I spent months searching for my daughter, I…don't even like to think about what I would've done if she…died."

Cersei continued to drink uninterested. "Really? A daughter? Interesting. Look at me Geralt, I know you worked with Tyrion, made some sort of deal with him. You must know something, I know you do."

Geralt stared at her for a moment. In her eyes, he saw a grieving mother and a desperate woman. "I know Tyrion didn't poison Joffrey. Nor did Sansa."

"Damn it! At what price did he buy your loyalty? Whatever it was I will match it a thousand times over! I will give you your heart's desires: land, a lordship, a holdfast, gold! Why do you lie for that little troll?"

"Nothing. He promised nothing but his unending gratitude. I haven't known him long, but he seems much too smart to poison Joffrey and stand right there and watch it happen. I believe he would've been very far away when it happened."

Cersei poured herself another glass, visibly calmer. "Yes, of course you believe that. You likely believe anything you're told, after all you said you weren't from here. Allow me to let you know where things stand. Tyrion has always hated me, been a jealous little lecher. And I've always hated him, since he tore open our mother to enter this world. He would stop at nothing to spite me at every turn and after Joffrey humiliated him, well I suppose that was the last straw. He poisoned him in front of all his subjects, I know it; I would bet my life on it."

Geralt stood, trying to leave to return to his chambers. "Of course, your Grace. Anything to get justice for your son." Geralt bowed and started toward his room.

Cersei scoffed and stood. "And where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you," She blocked the door, pushing Geralt back to his chair. "As you know there's to be a trial soon. Because apparently justice needs to be done, but it won't truly be served until Tyrion's head is on a spike. I don't know what he told you, but I know you know something. Testify for the Crown. Do the smart thing and side with the winning family. If you are not with us, you are against us."

"Guess we'll find out at the trial won't we?"

After a couple of days, Geralt had been attempting to visit Tyrion in the dungeons, but it took him by surprise when he was actually allowed in. He came to a dark but rather large cell and the guards unlocked the heavy door. Tyrion sat in a corner chained to a post. Geralt entered the cell and the door slammed behind him. Tyrion squinted in recognition at him.

"Ah, Geralt. How nice of you to visit. Even my dear brother hasn't a care to see me."

Geralt sat down on the cold cell floor across from Tyrion. "You didn't do it, did you? Kill Joffrey, I mean?"

"Geralt. Me and you are similar, you know. We both fight and give our lives for the ungrateful populace, who then turn against us as soon as something goes wrong. In my case, I try to do the best for the realm, for my family, and end up accused of killing my own kin. No, I hated that imbecile, but I did not poison him."

"I believe you. You don't strike me as the type of person who'd do that," Geralt paused to think. "Your sister, though, she seems convinced you did the deed. She thinks you hate her."

Tyrion sighed. "I do actually, it's a rather complicated relationship. But her one redeeming quality is her love for her children, and I would never rob her of that. I serve our family, the Lannister name, and I have always put our family before my own personal whims."

"Then your sister must really hate you, to want you dead. Why?"

"She's always hated me since our mother died giving birth to me. She is a spiteful creature, isn't she? Wait, you spoke with her?"

"I did. She asked me to testify against you."

Tyrion sighed sadly and looked Geralt in the eye. "Geralt, I cannot ask you to put your life on the line any longer. All this evidence is mounted against me, so it's inevitable I'll be executed. No need lose your head for my sake."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I followed Sansa the evening of the murder," Tyrion looked up with some hope. "She got on a ship with Joffrey's fool. I couldn't get close enough, but I think I heard a name like 'Baelish', or something."

Tyrion hopped up in realization. "Baelish! Gods, it all makes since now! A few months ago, Petyr Baelish set off for the Vale. He must have married Lysa Arryn and now he has her niece, the key to the North! That clever bastard!" Tyrion moved as close as to Geralt as his chains would let him. "Geralt…this is much more than I planned on asking, but… would you be willing to fight for me? There is a way we can completely avoid the trial."

"Personally, I would like to avoid bloodshed, but yeah, I think so."

"Good. The day of the trial I'm going to request a trial by combat. That means you'll be my champion, then-,"

Geralt shook his head in confusion. "Wait, what about what I just told you? What happened to the Baelish thing?"

"Ah, Geralt. Just because I place the blame on Baelish, that doesn't mean Cersei will be convinced, or anyone else for that matter. You talked to her yourself, you know she won't change her mind. She's set on seeing me hang. Unless you'd like to testify for me, I'd be extremely grateful, but I doubt it'll change much."

"I'll testify, who knows, she may just change her mind."

Tyrion shook Geralt's hand as he stood to leave. "For your sake, I hope she does."