Hers Is The Fury

News Of Red Wedding Reaches The Capital

[Red Keep - The Hand's Chambers]

Tyrion entered his father's chambers. Inside, Lord Tywin Lannister, Queen Cersei Lannister, Varys, and Grand Maestar Pycelle were already seated. King Joffrey Baratheon walked behind his grandfather, excited and grinning.

"Killed a few puppies today?" Tyrion asked.

"Show him. Come on, show him." Joffrey urged.

Hand shaking, Pycelle offered a scroll to Tyrion. He dropped it before Tyrion could grab it.

"Oh, apologies, my lord. Old fingers."

Annoyed, Tyrion reached to the floor and snatched the scroll. He read it as Joffrey was manic with energy.

"'Roslin caught a fine fat trout. Her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding. Signed Walder Frey.' Is that bad poetry or is it supposed to mean something?"

"Robb Stark is dead. And his bitch mother." Joffrey could not hide his pleasure at the news. He turned to Maestar Pycelle. "Write back to Lord Frey. Thank him for his service and command him to send Robb Stark's head. I'm going to serve it to Sansa and my traitor sister at my wedding feast."

"Your Grace, Lady Sansa is your aunt by marriage, and Princess Morgana is your sister by blood." Varys told him.

"A joke. Joffrey did not mean it." Cersei said.

"Yes, I did. I'm going to have it served to Sansa and Morgana at my wedding feast." Joffrey ordered.

"No. Sana is no longer yours to torment." Tyrion protested. "Nor is your sister. She just lost her husband."

"Everyone is mine to torment. You'd do well to remember that, you little monster."

"Oh, I'm a monster. Perhaps you should speak to me more softly, then. Monsters are dangerous and just now kings are dying like flies."

The room went silent and Joffrey was aghast at the slight.

"I could have your tongue out for saying that." He told his uncle.

Cersei took Joffrey's hand to calm him. "Let him make his threats. Hmm? He's a bitter little man."

"Lord Tyrion should apologize immediately. Unacceptable, disrespectful, and in very bad taste." Pycelle said.

Joffrey pulled his hand free from his mother's caress. "I am the king! I will punish you."

"Any man who must say, 'I am the king' is no true king. I'll make sure you understand that when I've won your war for you." Tywin told him.

"My father won the real war. He killed Prince Rhaegar. He took the crown while you hid under Casterly Rock!"

Once again, the room goes silent as the depth of the insult sinks in.

"The king is tired. See him to his chambers." Tywin told his daughter.

Cersei stood and tried to lead Joffrey away. "Come along."

"I'm not tired."

"We have so much to celebrate. A wedding to plan. You must rest." Cersei pulled Joffrey towards the door.

"Grand Maester, perhaps some essence of nightshade to help him sleep."

"I'm not tired!" Joffrey protested again, sounding that much more like a child, rather than a king.

"Come."

Cersei and Joffrey exited. Pycelle stood, took the scroll from the table, and shuffled out. Next, Varys rose smoothly to depart. Tyrion cautiously swivelled to leave as well.