"Father, I wish to confess," he said in a lowered tone but almost no one heard him above the noise of the gossiping crowd. "I wish... to confess."
He repeated, this time louder.
This shocked Jaime and Visenya, who looked at him surprised by his words. Even Trystan did not believe what he was hearing, questioning what his brother had in mind but deeply worrying that whatever he had; would only make things worse than improve them.
"You wish to confess?" Tywin asked him, ensuring that everyone heard it right.
Tyrion turned to the crowd.
"I saved you. I saved this city and all your worthless lives," he spat.
He had saved them more than once. It was his idea to form an alliance with the Tyrells and use the chain amongst the ships. He supervised the training of the spitfire crews to handle wildfire. He sent the hill tribes to harass Stannis' flanks and kill his scouts as they passed through the Kingswood.
After Jacelyn Bywater was killed and the Hound deserted, it was him, who took command over the soldiers and led them against Stannis' troops. Due to his outstanding bravery, the invading host was delayed long enough till Tywin and the reinforcements arrived.
And yet, is this how he is repaid? After all he did to save them, the scar he received as he laid out his life for them and is this how they look at him? So quick to judge, to point a finger in his direction and accuse him of murder.
Tyrion kept glaring at the crowd with hatred.
"I should have let Stannis kill you all."
He continued as he stood up again, glaring at everyone in the crowd and not caring about the reactions he caused.
"Tyrion."
His father's voice was heard even amongst the noise of the crowd and the dwarf turned to look at him.
"Do you wish to confess?"
"Yes, Father. I'm guilty. Guilty. Is that what you want to hear?"
"You admit you poisoned the king?"
"No, of that I'm innocent. I'm guilty of a far more monstrous crime. I am guilty of being a dwarf." Tyrion said.
Tywin clenched and unclenched his fist around one of the sword pommels Of the iron throne, a futile attempt to contain his temper. He found this so ridiculous that his lips twitched to a smirk, one of annoyance and disgust.
Even after all this, Tyrion continued to test his patience.
"You are not on trial for being a dwarf." He reminded him.
"Oh, yes, I am. I've been on trial for that my entire life."
Getting tired Of this mockery, Tywin leaned forward. "Have you nothing to say in your defence?"
"Nothing but this..." he turned to 100k in the direction Of Cersei. "l did not do it. I did not kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had." He spat with so much hatred and venom that was unlike him. His eyes glowed dangerously but he was not done, he was far from it. "Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than 1,000 lying whores" He said and despite the reaction of the crowd, he turned to them. "l wish I was the monster you think I am. I wish I had enough poison for the whole pack of you. I would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it."
The crowd went wild, some even stood up as they started to shout and curse Tyrion for his direct threat at them. None dared to come to a close but they did not hide their reactions to his venomous words.
"Ser Meryn. Ser Meryn." Tywin shouted for the Kingsguard, his voice barely being heard above the noise of the crowd. "Escort the prisoner back to his cell."
Tyrion's head snapped towards the direction of his father. "l will not give my life for Joffrey's murder. And I know I'll get no justice here. so I will let the gods decide my fate. I demand a trial by combat."
The crowd went wild, many having different reactions to the whole scene and Tyrion's demand.
Tywin simply narrowed his eyes at his son, staring him down with hatred, disgust and annoyance. For the first time since his birth, Tyrion did not look away but kept glaring at his all-mighty Father; dead in the eyes.
Jaime let out a heavy sigh and hung his head low, his plan ruined. He had told his brother 'No more outbursts' but did he listen? However, in his defence, their father bringing Shae into the game as a witness was a low blow and it would be almost impossible for Tyrion not to react.
Trystan simply stared with worry as the fire was literally thrown between the intense and heated gazes between Tyrion and their Father. He had never heard his half-brother speaking with so much hatred, so much venom... a side so dark one would not expect the dwarf to have.
However, he was also worried about the trial-by-combat idea. He could already suspect who Cersei would demand as her champion and there was simply no man or woman capable of winning against the Mountain.
Visenya felt her migraine worsening due to all the panic and the chaos unfolding. She had not expected such a reaction from Tyrion but eventually, everyone did break under enough pressure. It was only a matter of time before he would as well.
She sensed someone's eyes on her and she turned her head to the left towards the judges. Oberyn was looking at her with his eyebrows arched up faintly and a pleased expression on his face.
As their eyes met, a common memory almost flashed into their minds.
Visenya had met with Oberyn one more time and once again it was in Chataya's brothel. She had managed to have her own guards to cover for her and she had timed her visit with Tywin being busy, giving her enough time for the moment.
She was sitting on the same cushioned soft couch she sat the first time they met after all those years, a goblet with sweet Dornish wine held in her left hand. Oberyn was sitting next to her, or more like say leaning back with his legs spread.
His shirt was missing since he was busy making out with Ellaria and another prostitute before Visenya interrupted him. He did not bother to cover himself and instead offered her some wine while having enough courtesy to join her on the couch.
She did not seem to care about his messy hair or his lack of a tunic or vest. Her attention was more focused on her goblet, the room and sometimes his face as they discussed the details of her plan to get their revenge on the Mountain.
"And how do you know Tyrion will ask for a Trial by Combat? You sound so sure that he will," he pointed out, drinking some of his wine.
"I will suggest it to him but I know he will. He did it once and survived, he will try his luck again," she explained, drinking from her goblet.
"Say he does ask for that. How do you know the Queen Regent will ask for the Mountain as her champion?"
She smirked as she lowered her goblet and turned her body sideways to look better at him.
"You think it is that hard? You know how to get under people's skins and I know how to get into their minds," she started, her posture as per usual the straight back she always had. "Cersei will stop at nothing to see Tyrion dead and all it will take is a small whisper to remind her that there is an unbeatable soldier following her orders."
Oberyn smirked at her cunning way of manipulation.
"You know, you would have done so well in Dorne. You move like a snake, you strike like one and you have enough poison in your words to kill like one," he commented, something glowing in his dark eyes.
She rolled her eyes at his drama but accepted the compliment nonetheless. She looked at his laid-back posture but she never let her eyes remain on his body for too long. He was fit and muscled enough, his body having yet to give up on him.
He had Salt-Dornish characteristics and a charming smirk that made many men and women fall for him. Once upon a different time, if things had been different and her first impression of him was not so shitty; she might have been one of those he would have charmed.
"I know," was her reply, drinking some wine. "But my true calling is here. I cannot rule from Dorne, can I?" she asked rhetorically. "I do believe your mother understood that, more than enough."
He scoffed.
"The fact that you managed to persuade her not only to change her original decision but pass us your nephew, is an achievement I always admired," he confessed and brought his goblet towards her.
Her smirk remained.
"Is there anything that you do not admire about me by now?" she asked with a playful tone as their goblets clinked together and she saw him smirk.
He lifted his upper body in a sitting position so he was right next to her, his knee pressed against hers.
"Your insistence on staying with that murderer," he said, his humour long gone. "There is clearly nothing you win from him. No good sex, no attention and yet you choose to stay when you can truly be free in Dorne."
He looked deep into her unique amber eyes as the specks of red seemed to glow.
She did not look away but kept his gaze, though inside she was amused at how he was speculating she had none of those things; when in reality she had them and more than enough.
"With you," she added for him, already seeing where this was leading and what he wished to fully say but did not. "And you are mistaken, again," she said with an equally serious look, her head tilted faintly to the side. "I win a lot of things. Through him I get power, an army, titles and protection," she said, lying about the true nature of her relationship and her feelings. "That's more than what the rest of my family got after the Rebellion," she reminded him.
Oberyn looked from her eyes to her lips as they moved while she talked but then focused on her gaze again.
"You wouldn't need protection in Dorne. All those things that you said, are useless there," he explained. "Why do you resist?" he finally asked, leaning his head forward.
If he expected her to meet him halfway or not, he did not let it show. However, he did not hide his disappointment either when he felt something cold and sharp pressed against his neck as their faces were inches away from one another.
He groaned in displeasure and pulled back, seeing a familiar Valyrian-bladed dagger held firmly in her hand. He rubbed the spot where the blade was just a moment ago.
"You still carry those blades of yours?"
"Always. Especially when I know your nature has not changed after all those years," she said and stood up.
She placed her goblet on the table before pushing her cloak behind her. She grabbed the edges of her red dress and pulled it up to her knee and exposed the black blade belt she had strapped around her calf.
She sheathed the blade along with the others there and took notice of how he was eyeing her exposed leg like a hungry animal.
"Keep looking at me like that and that blade will go for your eyes, Oberyn," she said and let the dress drop, obstructing him the view of her skin.
"You cannot blame a man for admiring what he watches. I am sure you do not get such chances if any with that Old Lion you bed."
She rolled her eyes at his words, once again him trying to put Tywin down; thinking he was not capable of pleasing her in any way. She did not comment, she did not let him know and she simply let him be.
It was better if everyone believed nothing truly was happening between her and Tywin, at least of the more... sentimental and sexual nature. It helped keep up the facade that they were merely two individuals, who were forced to get married.