Game of Thrones Iron Stark

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Tyrion Lannister was having the time of his life. With Robert and Eddard off hunting and drinking like boys, the real work of ruling had fallen to him. The Deputy Hand. He liked the sound of it.

He sat in his solar with a cup of Arbor gold, running the Seven Kingdoms better than most kings ever had. Varys, Pycelle, Baelish, and Renly all played their parts. Sometimes Tyrion wondered what it would feel like to sit on the Iron Throne itself. Just to warm the steel for a while.

A knock broke his thoughts. Janos Slynt stepped in, gold cloak and all.

"Lord Tyrion," the Gold Cloak commander said with a bow that was barely respectful. "We're short on men. Half the Gold Cloaks were sent north with the Lannister troops. Can we recruit?"

Tyrion poured him a cup. "How many do we have left?"

"Under nine hundred. King's Landing is growing. We need more."

Tyrion sipped his wine, hiding his face. "Fine. Recruit what you need. Take the coin from Baelish."

Janos shifted. "I already asked him. He said he's short on funds."

Tyrion nearly choked. "Littlefinger is short on coin? That's the funniest thing I've heard all week."

He thought for a moment. Baelish never ran out of money. That meant the money was going somewhere important. Dangerous, probably.

"Tell you what," Tyrion said. "House Lannister will cover the cost. Recruit your men. Just don't make them all Lannister loyalists. I want them loyal to the crown."

Janos smiled for the first time. "Thank you, my lord."

After he left, Tyrion called for Podrick. "Get the carriage ready. I'm going to see Lord Baelish."

Podrick hesitated. "My lord… the queen asked to see you. She said it was urgent."

Tyrion sighed. "Cersei first. Then Baelish. Let's go see what my dear sister wants."

The Red Keep was crawling with spies. Varys's little birds. Baelish's informants. Cersei's eyes. Everyone was playing the game, and Tyrion was right in the middle of it. He straightened his doublet and headed for the queen's chambers.

He'd spent most of his life being hated by his own family. Tywin had never forgiven him for killing his mother during childbirth. Cersei had made his life hell since they were children. Jaime was the only one who ever treated him like a person.

Tyrion had learned early that love was a lie. The Tysha disaster had taught him that much. A farm girl he'd saved. A secret marriage. Two weeks of real happiness. Then Tywin found out. Jaime told him it was all a paid performance. A whore hired to give the dwarf his first taste of a woman.

Tywin had made him watch while an entire barracks took turns with her. One silver stag each. When it was over, Tywin tossed Tyrion a gold coin and told him to finish the job. "A Lannister always pays his debts," he'd said.

Tyrion had never believed in love after that.

He reached Cersei's door and knocked. Whatever game she was playing today, he was ready. He always was.

The door opened. Cersei stood there in green silk, golden hair perfect, green eyes cold.

"Little brother," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Come in. We need to talk."