A full day came and went after Tyrion's return, with no other incidents.
The tribesmen remained out of the Lannister camp, the dwarf was given his own tent and was even allowed to keep Bronn around.
The evening had arrived, the wind blowing in their favour and the weather yet to turn cold; despite the incoming winter months. On top of a hill that overlooked the kingsroad from one side and the camp from the other, a long table draped with a golden cloth has been set up.
At the head of the table was Tywin with Visenya by his right as his wife and Lady, while Kevan was by his left. The rest of the chairs were occupied by chief knights and lords bannermen; all who had gathered took their evening meal and discussed the latest news on the battlefront.
All around men, Lannister soldiers were positioned with their spears and swords within reach; keeping an eye for anything suspicious.
None was wearing armour with Tywin having chosen a golden cloak that he draped across one shoulder, over his chest as he often did even when he wore armour. Visenya was dressed more appropriately for her status and the time, wearing a golden dress with the Lannister sigil sewed with black threat.
However, black breeches were positioned beneath the rather loose lower end; in case she had to run or ride. She would have much preferred to wear other clothes but she knew too well of her status and when she had to dress accordingly as Lady Lannister.
"Our scouts tell us the Stark host has moved south from the Twins, with Lord Frey's levies in tow. They're a day's march north" Kevan informed as everyone was slowly eating, listening to the report.
Tywin was thinking for a moment. "The boy may lack experience and sense, but he does have a certain mindless....provincial courage"
His lady wife drank some wine from her goblet. "Now what remains is to see whether that courage will have him killed sooner or later" she commented, earning a nod from Tywin; who had similar thoughts.
Suddenly, Tyrion approached the table; as per usual late. He wobbled and managed to sit on a chair as a servant quickly rushed to fill his goblet with wine.
His father did not seem pleased, his mood changing upon seeing the imp joining them at the table.
"l will have you burying the dead if you arrive as late to battle as you do to the table" he told him, making sure that his son knew he was not happy.
"l am sure a peasant or two could be found for me to kill," he said sourly, not keen on battling or killing for that matter.
The army's quartermaster, Lord Leo Lefford scoffed. "l do hope your savages are going to be braver than you; otherwise we've wasted good steel on them." He said since he was the one, who had to supply the 300 tribesmen and had not been happy when he received the order.
Kevan joined the discussion, equally displeased. "The great hairy one insisted he must have two battleaxes. Heavy black steel, double-sided."
Yet, Tyrion merely drank some wine; not surprised. "Shagga likes axes" he justified simply.
A new voice commented on the topic. "That's putting it mildly..." Ser Anthor Dayne said.
"Ah, the great Anthor Dayne, the twin brother to the Sword of the Morning. You're a long way from home, Ser; what brings you to the Riverlands?" Tyrion asked, deciding to mess with him.
Tension started to build up, many having gone silent and even stopped eating at the sight.
However, it was only when Visenya cleared her throat that everyone stared at her.
"l do believe we are getting out of topic here. We are to discuss the plans of the following battle and each minute wasted, is a minute our enemy marches closer" she reminded them, her tone resembling that of a scolding mother.
Many men looked down or away, Tyrion included as she had openly embarrassed and corrected them on their behaviour; which was unfit for that particular time and space.
Tywin said nothing, expecting such a reaction and was only satisfied that he did not have to put an order once again. Sometimes, he grew tired of repetitions such as those but to his luck; his Lady Wife was more than capable of handling those matters.
"Visenya is right." He commented and turned to Tyrion. "When the battle commences, you and your wildlings will be in the vanguard."
The news surprised the young lion, who looked even a little apprehensive.
"The vanguard? Me and the tribesmen, on the front lines?" he repeated, ensuring he had heard well.
Tywin gave a soft nod and seemed to even have a slight grin on his face, which only made Tyrion look even more apprehensive.
He glanced at Visenya, hoping for her interference but she focused on silently chewing on some meat while watching silently.
Kevan shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "They do seem rather ferocious....."
Yet it was Ser Anthor that was in the mood to humiliate the Imp. "You have any experience in combat, Lord Tyrion?"
Tyrion did not hide his annoyance. "Perhaps you'd be kind enough to join me." He said, effectively stopping him from making any more comments.
Then he turned to his uncle.
"Ferocious is putting it mildly. A Moon Brother stabbed a Stone Crow over a sausage. Three Stone Crows seized the Moon Brother and opened his throat. Bronn manage to keep Shagga from chopping off the dead man's cock, which was fortunate, but even still, Ulf is demanding blood money, which Shagga and Gunthor refuse to pay"
The story had many of the knights and commanders exchange a silent look and even Visenya seemed to be silent, drinking some wine silently. Tyrion was known for his language around the table but his need to go into such details was truly not needed.
The only one, who saw an opportunity was Tywin. He seemed amused but not from the story but rather what he had just gotten from it.
"When soldiers lack discipline, the fault lies with their commander," he said, openly insulting his son.
It was not uncommon that Jaime had the charisma and the air to make others follow him without much trouble. He was quite natural in that and young Trystan seemed not to fall far from the tree either, both having taken from their father; although the Old Lion did use more authority and fear than charisma.
Tyrion knew that he could never be like them. Men never took him seriously, he did not have the looks or the title of the knight to help him either. The only way to ensure command was to use his brains, his family's power and gold.
Everyone knew that, many expected it and yet his father still chose to rub it to his face. There were times he did not hide how much he wished him gone and he openly tried to force him to leave.
Even Visenya would not always interfere in such situations, only watch passively. It did make Tyrion wonder whether she was truly by his side and simply was obedient to her husband or chose to have some kindness for the dwarf when she was in the mood.
Kevan, commented, breaking the new silence that had started between them.
"Perhaps because they have no discipline, they should not be in the Vanguard"
Tywin seemed to think it through, mentally agreeing that it posed risks with this decision but he did not wish to use his men since they had human fodder to spare.
"Perhaps Tyrion should guard the baggage instead while someone else leads them. A more disciplined commander"
Those words struck a nerve and Tyrion almost stood up on his chair; literally.
"l am and can be disciplined. Let me command the vanguard and I will prove it to you" he said, desperately trying to earn his father's approval.
"You will be with your clansmen but you will not command the Vanguard. Ser Gregor Clegane, will"
This frustrated him to a new point. No matter what, Tyrion was a Lannister and the mad dog was a soldier. There was no way he would be commanding him, the very own son of Tywin Lannister.
He turned to Visenya, like a child who had just been scolded by his father and begged her for some justice. Perhaps she could vouch for him, she could persuade Tywin or come up with a far better plan.
She did not look away from him, her posture remained the perfect straight expected from a noble lady of her class.
"l do believe the decision has been made, Tyrion. It is too late to change the plans now" she said, her voice less strict than Tywin's as she clearly was telling him one thing.
Drop it, you know you cannot win this argument, she was telling him.
She understood his frustration but perhaps it was better for him that way. He wouldn't have to join with the first wave. He was not a fighter, he had never been into a battle before and that should be enough to keep him at bay.
Yet, the need to prove himself or the long time spent away from his father; made him forget certain things.
When will I ever win one against him? would be the rhetorical question for his reply.
Yet, Tyrion thought to try one last time. He had managed to escape death, he gathered all those clans and united them as one. He had returned from imprisonment along with a small army.
If he had done all those things, he could have stood up to his father and changed his opinion.
"Father-"
Yet he was never given the chance.
"There will be no more discussion of this topic," the Old Lion said, his voice booming across the table.
There was this air of finality all around them, not a single sound breaking the new silence. Tywin had just put his foot down and had ended the discussion.
When he did that, he truly exerted his power on anyone present even watching as a third party. His word was law and rule, unbroken and unquestionable. When he made it clear that he was done then no one dared to go against him.
Not his commanders, not his brother, not his children and not even his own wife.
In the end, Tyrion jumped off the chair while fuming with anger.
"It appears I'm not hungry after all. Excuse me, my lords, good-mother."
He set his goblet down on the table and tossed the hunk of bread he was eating back on the plate, before departing.
His father watched him go with an annoyed look on his face while Visenya let out a heavy sigh.
Sometimes, this family was too much and even she was not sure how she could help it. She glanced at Tywin, who had grabbed his goblet and simply took a few sips to ease his nerves.
She emptied her goblet in one go.
"If I may be excused as well since the discussion of battle has ended," she said, passively asking a question that was directed towards her husband.
Tywin looked at her, silently reading her although he did have a good suspicion why she wished to depart. She always had a soft spot for Tyrion or at least wished to talk to the children after he was done scolding them.
He understood it was her more female or motherly side but sometimes he did not approve it, especially when it was about Tyrion. However, since the topic of battle had ended and there was no food on her plate; he decided to give it to her.
"You may and get your men ready as well for the battle," he said, looking at her.
Last time, he passively told her with his gaze.
I know, was her reply before she put on a small smile.
"Thank you. My Lords" she greeted the rest of the men and stood up, before gracefully walking away from the table.
Tyrion was furious at what had happened during the evening meal and it was evident by how he stamped his short legs and by the scowl on his face.
Bronn, who had been browsing the huge camp noticed him and pulled him to the side close to their tent to talk.
He did not do it out of any personal feeling of friendship but rather curiosity, for he had not seen the little guy that angry since he met him at the Vale. And so, Tyrion proceeded to summarize what happened and how annoyed he was by his father.
"My father sometimes...l do wonder how my good-mother puts up with him all those years" he voiced his thought as he sat on a log close to a dead fire while Bronn took the other.
"l would say it would be the looks but your father doesn't seem as a charmer or even handsome. If the roles were reserved, then I would understand why he would keep her around" he commented, making Tyrion look at him as he remembered the silent glances towards her direction when they were in the tent.
"l would have you known their marriage was entirely political, nothing to do with charm or beauty" he commented, although as an old memory resurfaced; he felt the need to scoff at his own words.
"l will also pretend that you did not speak of my mother as some whore to be kept around"
Bronn waved his hand as the dwarf tried to redirect his anger at him.
"Relax, little man. I did not mean it that way, although I am certain I have met a whore with similar looks from Lys" he said, clearly not helping with his temper.
Suddenly, a presence was sensed behind the swordsman and by the way Tyrion's face changed; Bronn knew he had spoken the wrong time.
"Good-mother" Tyrion greeted with almost no energy but still tried to pretend as if the discussion had not just taken place.
"Tyrion, Bronn" she greeted them as she took an elegant step above the log to be closer to them and now in the field vision of both men.
"How long have you been standing there?" he asked as Bronn was suspiciously silent, mostly because he knew he had fucked it up.
"Long enough to hear my heritage being compared to some prostitutes from Lys" she answered, not happy.
Immediately, Tyrion was up on his feet.
"Listen, good-mother, Bronn is like that; do not take it personally. He runs his mouth without a pause, his use of language is the most questionable and..." he stopped talking upon seeing how her lips curved up into a smirk. "And you enjoy listening to me apologise for him, don't you"
"l do feel King's Landing has made you slower, Tyrion" she commented and took a seat on the third log that was close to her, not caring if the ends of her dress would get stained with ash and mud.
"So, you are not going to have your ever-charming husband to remove my head off my shoulder, will you?" Bronn finally asked once he realized his life was not in danger and neither was his head; which would be a first.
"l should but I am not. You are not the first man and alas you won't be the last one to talk to me that way; behind my back nonetheless" she explained. "However, if you were anyone else I might not take it that kindly. Tyrion was too quick to defend you and that says more than you think to me"
Relieved, he pulled his waterskin from his belt and started to sip some wine.
"l knew you were a fine lady when I saw you yesterday. You look nothing like most stack-up high-born women I have met"
Tyrion, not enjoying the topic and also being curious about her sudden presence; focused on her.
"l am surprised Father let you come find me. Although, I do suspect you are here to try and justify his decision; aren't"
"l did come here to talk but if you do not wish to hear me, I won't pressure you" she said and stood up, already walking slowly away from him.
To Bronn's surprise, Tyrion jumped back on his feet and rushed forward.
"Wait..." he started, almost sounding like a small child running after his mother, surprising the sell-sword. "l do wish to hear your advice. At least you bother to talk to me" he continued, looking up at her with a faint pleading look.
She turned to face him and glanced at Bronn, who quickly got the hint.
"l will let you two some space," he said and started to walk away, still trying to get over what he just saw.
"Walk with me, Tyrion" Visenya said and started to take smaller and slower steps to ensure he did not have trouble catching up.
"Tell me, where you more upset by the fact that you will be thrown straight into combat or because you will not be the one commanding it?" she asked him.
The dwarf opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, once he realized he was not sure himself.
After a moment of silent slow walking, he looked forward again.
"l guess both, to be honest"
"l keep saying King's Landing and time away from your father has slowed you down, Tyrion. You would be the first to see behind plans when you truly pushed yourself" she told him, her voice having not a single inch of judgement in it. "To help you with that. Commanding a force, no matter the size requires the respect of the soldiers and the ability to motivate them. The Lannister men don't know you and you have done nothing to earn their respect in any way. Instead, you brought an army of tribesmen to join them"
"Neither had the mountain. He terrorizes most people, if not all"
"He does. He brings fear into the hearts of both allies and enemies"
Suddenly, Tyrion started to connect the dots.
"It was you that suggested him to command, weren't you?" he asked, although by just glancing up at her face he knew he was right. "You plan to use him to spread fear across the Northerners and make it easier to take down"
"Not so slow after all" she commented, a small smirk of pride forming on her lips. "l do" And if he perishes, then even better.
"Battle is not like what you read in the books, Tyrion," she said, her tone changing to a serious one. "It is chaos, it is dangerous and above all; lethal. The fact that you will be there can be your chance to prove to your father that you can do it and make up for being taken hostage by the Tullys"
"It wasn't like it was my choice" Tyrion argued but received a sharp look from her.
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you, good-mother. I will be careful and try not to die on the first minute of it" he joked.
"You know, there is an old saying the White Bull used to say when I was younger" she said as she came to a halt, bringing up the Old Kingsguard of her grandfather and father. He was a mighty knight, experienced and wise but at the same time; terrifying to a younger version of her.
"Ten spears go to battle and nine shatter. Did the war forge the one that remained?" she asked rhetorically. "All the war did was to identify the spear that would not break."
She answered her question and looked at him.
"Perhaps this is your chance to also prove to the world and your father that you are a spear meant to stand"