DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 2 - CLASH OF THE KINGS

Tyrion III

The rattling of chains outside Tyrion's cell signalled it was almost time to depart on his northern adventure. Jaime had visited him twice, assuring him that Varys had a plan to free him once he arrived at Eastwatch. From there, he would cross the Narrow Sea.

The story was plausible; Tyrion knew Varys was in the north, trying to pave the way for a marriage alliance for Jaime. The match with Sansa Stark seemed unlikely to proceed, due to Jaime lingering too long in King's Landing. Tyrion knew Varys was snooping among the northerners, seeking to understand why they refused to bend the knee. It was especially curious, as Lord Whitestark had been in King's Landing during the past fortnight.

From what Tyrion could gather, Jon had left the day before the wedding, which was rather suspicious, if you asked Tyrion—not that anyone had bothered to do so. However, Lord Whitestark didn't seem the type to commit regicide. Tyrion couldn't say the boy was of low intellect; he didn't know him well enough. But orchestrating the murder of a king at his wedding took a murderous cunning Tyrion didn't believe the boy possessed.

The door to his cell opened, and a guard entered holding iron shackles. "Need to put these on you, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion held out his hands. "Do your worst," he sighed, glancing around the room one last time. Despite the dampness and stench, it was warm. Tyrion knew from his previous visit to the Wall, should the plan fail, he'd be cold for the rest of his life. He shivered at the prospect.

The shackles were fastened to his wrists, tight enough to be uncomfortable. They were heavy against his short arms, not designed for someone of his stature.

The guards escorted Tyrion through the dark passages of the black cells before emerging into the brilliant sunshine of the Red Keep's courtyard. From there, he was led to a small inlet used by the royal family for sea voyages.

Aboard a small rowing boat, two men donned Night's Watch attire. Waiting for him at the inlet were Jaime, Cersei, and Myrcella. Tyrion knew Tommen couldn't be there, as he was the King. He wasn't even surprised his father was absent.

What piqued his curiosity was Cersei's presence. He knew she wouldn't miss him. The smirk on her face told him she wanted to witness his departure. To make sure he was gone once and for all.

"My dear sister, it is so good to see you looking so well," he remarked, noting her black silk dress with gold brocade. "Are you here to grieve my departure?"

"I'm here to make sure you don't jump out of that boat and swim back," she hissed. "I never want to see your filthy little face around here again."

"Cersei," Jaime chided, glancing toward Myrcella, who was sniffling.

"Will you write to me from the Wall?" Myrcella asked.

Tyrion glanced at his two siblings. He should tell the girl the truth. Even if he made it to Castle Black, he doubted he could write to her.

"I shall see what Lord Commander Mormont says," he said, stroking her cheek with a cuffed hand before Myrcella pulled him into a tight hug. Tyrion would have reciprocated if not for the shackles binding his wrists.

Tyrion had always been fond of his niece and youngest nephew. They were kind children, and he wondered how on earth they had emerged from Cersei's evil womb. His sister didn't deserve such goodness.

Once Myrcella let him go, Tyrion turned to Jaime and noticed for the first time that his older brother was no longer dressed in his Kingsguard attire.

"You've resigned your post?" Tyrion asked.

"Father wants me to take on Casterly Rock, especially now that you cannot take it in my stead, and Tommen can no longer inherit."