The day of his Trial by Combat would be one Tyrion would never forget. So many things had taken place that even his mind felt like it could not handle it all. He was not sure what to focus on, what was really important.
He did not think of a lot of things that day, not until the combat was over and he was found innocent. Only then did he have his chance to straighten things up.
He would be released the day after and that night was supposed to be the last one in his cell. He could survive with that, but he could not wait patiently until the rise of dawn either.
The very same morning of the combat, he had been visited by Jaime.
His brother thought Tyrion would be found guilty because what can a cocky man do against someone like the Mountain? Against someone that no man had ever managed to even make kneel, let alone kill?
So, during his last visit, he confessed something to Tyrion; something that he wished he could erase from his memory.
Tysha, his first wife... it was all a lie.
Jaime had lied, under orders of their father, and said that Tysha was a paid prostitute; that she did not love him.
Tyrion had believed it and continued with his life; knowing that the only woman that would ever truly love him was faking it from the start. Now, he came to find that the girl truly cared for him and yet his father made her suffer by giving her to his soldiers.
He could still remember her cries, her shouts of pain as each man took his turn with her, showing no mercy to a girl barely older than four and ten. He never forgot it and now he knew that an innocent girl was abused and raped by the order of his father, all because that monstrous lion could not stand to see his own son happy.
That was a knife through the heart, one thing he never saw coming.
Not only did it make his hatred for Tywin rise exponentially but also made him wonder.
Did his good-mother know about that?
If she did, then she was guilty as well. She left a mere child at the mercy of grown men, she stood and watched and did... nothing. She continued with her life, making him believe that lie while in the end she most likely knew the truth.
As Tyrion sat in his cell that night, he kept rethinking about that... about Shae; another woman that he loved, another victim of his family.
He suspected that she was threatened by Cersei or his father to say all those lies in court.
He wished to get out of those damn cells, to go find Shae and learn the truth. Then, he wished to go see his parents and ask them. He needed to hear them admitting to the horrible thing they did all those years ago.
He would have to wait until the morning to do those things—or so he thought.
It was in the middle of the night when the guard, who was supposed to keep watch, fell asleep rather deeply. A minute later, Varys came from some shadow corridor that Tyrion had barely acknowledged.
"Varys? What are you doing here?" Tyrion asked, surprised that the eunuch had come to visit him so late.
"I came to free you, my lord," was his reply, and he pulled a single cell key from his huge sleeve.
"Why?"
"I heard word that Her Grace is planning to kill you before the sun rises on the horizon," he explained as he unlocked the cell. "I have a boat and a ship waiting for us, to take us away before anyone realizes that we are gone."
Tyrion pushed the cell door open and walked outside, before looking up at the bald eunuch.
"Very convenient for you to have it all ready in a matter of hours," he pointed out, feeling as if something was not adding up.
"I had them prepared in case you were found guilty," Varys explained.
Still, the lion was sceptical. It all sounded too convenient, too easy and he feared it was some sort of trap. But then he remembered that Varys was not that kind and no one from his family would think of using him like that.
He even doubted Varys would agree unless severely threatened.
"Before I leave, I need to check on Shae. I want answers," Tyrion told him.
Varys seemed ready to disagree and argue but in the end, he nodded his head and led him through a secret passage.
Tyrion had found Shae in a guest chamber, sleeping peacefully on the bed as if she had not openly lied in court to frame him and exposed their most personal moments in front of everyone.
Yet, due to his love for her that still existed in his heart, he wanted to wake her up and ask her. Perhaps, she was blackmailed and threatened to arrive in King's Landing; to testify lies. It would not be something new if one could consider how low Cersei and Tywin could fall to get what they wanted.
He often thought it was the only trait Cersei had taken from their father—his cruelty.
His hand stopped inches from waking her up because she turned in her sleep and then he took notice of what was around her neck.
It was a beautiful necklace made of thick leather string and carrying a pure golden lion pendant with ruby eyes.
The lion head was not that big but it was expensive, it was one of a kind and Tyrion knew to whom it belonged.
Cersei.
It was a necklace their aunt Genna had given her for her marriage, to wear with her wedding dress. A symbol of pride for the house she was coming from and also a symbol of status as a Lannister lady.
Shae was no thief and there was no way that she would have managed to steal it from the chambers of his sister without the Lioness knowing it.
Which meant only one thing...
Cersei used it to buy Shae's cooperation.
Perhaps Shae was not one to budge under interrogation or threats or perhaps... she was simply a whore and she would gladly side with anyone giving her gold and coin.
Tyrion felt the betrayal all over again, a sharp pain coming from his heart that he almost could not breathe for a minute. He moved even closer to Shae, his mind clouded with anger, grief and need for justice.
He had been played twice so far, he had his feelings taken advantage of, his pride wounded, his life threatened... he was done being everyone's scapegoat, everyone's punching bag.
He was given a second chance to live and he was going to take it. Long gone would be the kind Tyrion that put up with everything because he was a Lannister and they were family.
Now, it would be just Tyrion.
All it took for him was a few simple moves and he had Shae choking on the necklace while he used the bed and his short height as leverage, to continue adding pressure by pulling. She cried and fought, not knowing what was going on and perhaps that was for the best.
He felt tears stinging the edge of his eyes as he heard her choking but he did not let go, he did not stop; not even after she stopped fighting and the room was silent once again.
After the deed was done, he sat by the foot of the bed and stared at the floor ahead of him, flexing his sore fingers while processing what he had done.
Perhaps I am a monster. I curse those around me and I take lives as well, he thought with some self-pity that almost made him laugh with mockery. How pathetic of me. Cersei would love to hear me right now, he thought.
"My Lord, we need to get going," Varys said, who had witnessed everything but not once made a move to stop him. "Unless there is someone else you wish to get even," he added, as if knowing something more.
"There is one more person, actually," Tyrion confessed.
He suspected that Varys simply understood him or he was that good at reading people to realize that Tyrion had beef with one more person in the Red Keep. Two, if one would count Cersei. At the end of the day, all the problems led to only one person; Tywin.
What Tyrion did not know, was the fact that Varys knew because he had been told. He remembered Visenya's dream of Tyrion with a crossbow, pointing at Tywin and shooting him.
He knew it was meant to happen now because he would be a dead man by morning. He was not sure how he was part of the dream in the end, truly understanding what Visenya meant when she talked of the complexity behind them. He did not stay to ponder about it for long. If the dream was to come true and Tywin Lannister was to die, who was he to stop the string of fate?
Perhaps it was his time, after all those years of controlling Kings and being the true power across Westeros.
Perhaps it was meant for him to die before he would become a threat by obtaining too much power, now that he would have Tommen to control with ease and Daenerys was gaining influence.
Varys did not know but he would play his part and see where it would lead.
When Tyrion was led into the Chambers of the Hand, he was surprised by the unfamiliar path that had led him there in the first place. He never suspected that there was a passage leading straight into the personal chambers of the Hand, a passage that most likely no one knew but Varys.
The Eunuch had stayed back and Tyrion had not questioned why.
Instead, he entered the room and looked around. Some candles had remained lit but were soon to die based on how much they had melted.
It was odd for someone to sleep with candles on due to the risk of fire but it was not that uncommon. Some did prefer more light when they were sleeping while others thrived in the darkness.
For him, it worked to his benefit because he could see better. Thanks to the candlelight, he could see a crossbow on the wall and it was even loaded, just with the safety on. He felt its weight in his hands, realizing it was more than a mere decoration and wondered if it was the same crossbow Joffrey used to love using.
If it was, it would be ironic for Tyrion to use it.
Would he truly use it against his father?
He was not sure but he did feel this inner need.
A Lannister always pays his debts, he told himself and took off the safety.
He walked silently towards the bed, careful not to make any noise. He was surprised to find the bed empty from one side, his father currently missing. It did pose a small obstacle in his plans but Tyrion suspected where the man could be at such a late hour.
He was about to go find him but came to a halt and instead walked closer to the occupied side of the bed where Visenya was fast asleep.
She had turned to the side, facing the wall across and her body was rather withdrawn in its position.
Knees bent and tucked in, hands in a similar position; this was a posture of vulnerability. He did not expect his confident and mighty good-mother to sleep like that; instead, he always imagined she was lying on her back or front with no care and no fear.
A candle was lit on the small table by her side of the bed and it offered some illumination upon her face and body. She wore only her red nightdress with no sleeves and she seemed to have removed most of the covers from her body, leaving barely her ankles and her feet covered.
For a moment, Tyrion thought of waking her up but kept his mouth silent. He could ask her for answers first and then go for Tywin, although if he were to wake her up he would have to knock her out or kill her as well; to keep her quiet.
Tyrion had questions and he no longer saw Visenya as the saint he thought she was when he was a child. Yet, he still did not see her to be the same monstrous level his father was. She was getting close but it was Tywin that was worse.
Tywin had made his life hell since he was born. Tywin had been the one that almost tossed him into the sea; he had been the one to always blame him for the death of his first wife and every bad thing that came after it.
Visenya, at least, had tried to be kind to him and she was. She had allowed him to be close to her and grow up with Trystan, had comforted him and had encouraged him to study and believe in himself. She was no saint and many times she could have done more for him but at least she had done something compared to him.
He was about to move when he spotted her moving faintly in her sleep.
She also started to mumble in her sleep and while her voice was faint, the dwarf could recognize that it was High Valyrian.
He moved closer to her, trying to listen better when he spotted something on her.
Noticeable bruises seemed to exist around her neck, more evident at the sides of it. As he looked at it closer, Tyrion made out the marking of fingers imprinted on her skin and the dark marking of teeth by the base of her neck.
His blood ran cold upon realizing it.
Tyrion had spent countless times with women in brothels and had witnessed all kinds of acts and treatments. He had seen soldiers becoming more hasty or greedy, with few crossing the line.
You paid a woman to sleep with you but you were not allowed to mark or harm her, which was the unspoken rule; one almost every man honoured. Even if a woman was your wife, Tyrion found it sickening for a man to mark her like that; to harm her especially.
A small and faint love mark by the neck perhaps that could be excused, but that was made out of love and passion. If a bruise was left, if the skin changed colour to that shade then there was no love or reason behind it; other than to satisfy a man's controlling and possessive needs. Such markings were left by men, who saw a woman as a possession that they could mark, like an object they could use without care.
One could screw that mark but the one around her neck could not be ignored. He had never lifted his hand on a woman and never would. Sex was supposed to be tender and mutual, not harmful to any of the parties.
His mind went back to their last conversation in the Study of the Hand after Tyrion learnt of the Red Wedding.
"Did you allow him to rape you too?"
When he had asked her that question, he had rushed to a conclusion that he saw was fit but a part of him had doubts even days later.
However, upon seeing those marks around her neck; all those doubts disappeared.
Even if he did not rape her, he was sure not gentle with her if he had to keep his hands around her neck to the point he would leave black and green bruises on her skin.
How many times did this take place over the 20 years they had been married? How many times did his Good-Mother have to hide such markings from the world and the children, all while pretending everything was fine? He could not help but ask himself, feeling angrier and more disgusted by the man he had to call Father all this time.
He even feared to question if his Father had been physical with her outside of bed when she would try to go against him to change his mind and protect them from his rage.
If he had allowed a young girl to be raped by his men, Tyrion knew not to be surprised that he was violent with his own wife; most likely raping her if she refused. She might not be able to bear him children but she was a desirable, beautiful, still young woman and he was a controlling and possessive man with sexual needs that he needed to satisfy; like any other man on this earth.
His finger on the trigger seemed to itch and he realized he had wasted enough time. His father either would be back soon or he would be able to catch him while he was busy. He took a step to move when Visenya opened her unique eyes, gasping faintly for air as if she had woken up from a bad sleep.
Immediately, Tyrion pointed the crossbow at her. He was not going to shoot her but he was not going to hide either. She was a smart woman, she would understand that if she made noise she risked being killed and so she wouldn't.
Eventually, her brain seemed to wake up and her eyes focused on the room. She must have sensed him or the weapon because her attention went to him and the unexpected appearance shocked her enough to make her move.
"Hello Good-Mother," he said and kept his crossbow stably aimed at her as she brought her upper body into a more sitting position.
"Tyrion," she exclaimed, her voice a little bit hoarse; most likely from the choking she received but also from sleep. She cleared her throat and rubbed it faintly to regain her voice. "What are you doing here? You are to be released morrow morning."
"You sound surprised, Good-Mother. Mayhap I was released a little bit earlier than planned," he said, any attempt for humour long gone as his gaze was hard and dark.
"You did not answer me. What are you doing here? With a weapon nonetheless," she asked, although she seemed to already speculate it if she hadn't figured it out already; yet she still chose to ask for confirmation.
"I was planning to visit Father, and have another heartfelt talk without him being my judge, jury and executioner, of course," he answered. "As you can see, he is not currently present but you are and I have a question for you, Good-Mother."
Visenya moved her head faintly; just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of the other side of the bed; only to see that Tyrion was speaking the truth and Tywin was absent. She then turned her focus on him, unfazed by the weapon aimed at her chest.
"What is your question?" she asked, rather calmly.
Tyrion was not sure if he should be surprised by her calm character but he found it better for him. She would cause him less trouble and he would not have to shoot her if she would go crazy and start shouting for the Guards.
He did not lower the crossbow nor did he take his eyes off her.
"Tysha, do you remember her?" he asked, his tone changing as the need for revenge and justice started to resurface.
"I do. The girl you first married when you were younger," she said, not using the adjective starting from W to describe her; which was odd to him.
"That's right, the whore that Jaime had paid to sleep with me," he said, hatred evident in his voice and he felt disgusted by calling her like that but he had to pass the message. "Only that she was no whore, was she Good-Mother?" he asked and then saw the surprise on her face, getting his answer. "Jaime told me everything. Now I am asking you. Did you also know the truth?"
Visenya could see it in his eyes, that familiar look for revenge coupled with grief and anger. She had seen that look at Oberyn each time he talked of Elia and it was the same look she had for years whenever she thought of her revenge on Robert.
Tyrion knew, there was no denying it. She had made her choice, she had agreed to the lie and she had led herself to the position she was now; threatened with a crossbow by her stepson.
She kept her chin up but her eyes did betray her with the guilt she had for that incident.
"I did," she confessed, forever ruining any thoughts and chances of redemption in his mind. Yet, she had more to say. "Tyrion I—"
He did not let her, though.
"You did nothing," he interrupted her. "You knew that Tysha was just but a girl and you... did... nothing. You did not fight for her, you did not fight for me, even," he accused, his rage now more audible in his tone; similar to what had taken place during his trial. "You let an innocent girl get raped by those soldiers while you stood on your high tower and watched. And then you let me believe that it was all a lie, that Tysha never loved me," he spat, his hands shaking faintly. "How could you?"
As this was happening, as Tyrion was releasing his pent-up frustration and feelings of betrayal; he failed to notice that the door leading from the private chambers to the study was open from the very start since he had turned his back to it.
He did not realize that Tywin was not in the privy but in the study room right next to the chambers, working on a last-minute letter that he had grabbed the chance to write now that Visenya was asleep and his mind was clear.
And he did not realize that soldiers had been summoned either and they had moved deeper into the room with surprisingly rather silent steps.
"Because she is a Lannister and she acts like one," a familiar voice said, drawing all the attention to him. "This is more than I can say about you."