Those words had begun the riot.
It had not been a long one. Not when Queen Cersei unleashed Janos Slynt and his men upon them. Then it had become a slaughter, those not cut down trampled underneath those who sought to escape. It changed nothing. The Lannisters could not afford to butcher the nobility of the Crownlands to keep secret what had transpired here today. Not anymore.
With Ser Barristan's aid, his hand tight around a still dripping sword, you made your way to Sansa. "Are you alright?"
Her face was very pale, but she nodded. "Joffrey. He's-"
"Aye. The Kingslayer's get. All three of them are."
A wave of revulsion crossed her face so like Cat's. How long it had been since you'd seen her. "I'm so sorry father," she said. "All of this has been my fault. Lady, Jory, Septa Mordane-"
You put a finger to her lips, then retracted it remembering how long it had been since you'd bathed. "Hush, love. They did this, not you."
You turned to the daughter of Tywin Lannister, the man your son - gods, to think of Robb leading troops to victory against him - had smashed at Oldstones and thrown into a cell. Your leg burned as you approached her, but you did so regardless. Her hands were shaking as she spoke. "Come to gloat, Lord Stark?"
You smiled for what felt like the first time in years. "No. I've come to bargain."
---
More news followed, in the days to come, as rumors gave way to fact. The Kingslayer in a cell with his father and brother. Riverrun liberated. The Demon of Oldstones on the march to King's Landing with enough men to see the Red Keep unmade brick by brick. It was all the watch could do to keep the peace.
The past few days had undoubtedly been among the worst of Cersei's life, but she was still lovely beyond words. "You should have accepted my offer in the Godswood, Lord Stark."
"You still could. Do you think Stannis Baratheon will reward you for your loyalty? The man despises you simply because Robert loved you. There is nothing I would not offer should you make faith with us again. Myrcella for your heir. Tommen for your younger girl. I would see the Lords of Storm's End and Highgarden displaced to make way for your younger boys. I could spread my legs for you right here and now."
You chose your response with great care. "I think the black cells would be warmer."
Thus was the state of your negotiations. Some manner of exchange was necessary. Perhaps had the Gold Cloaks proven less effective at containing the riot you might have been able to collect Sansa, find Arya, and escape in the chaos. If, if, if. Such an attempt was a long shot with your leg as it was, and with Robb's victories your well-being was safeguarded.
A swapping of prisoners was to be expected, but the situation was more... lopsided. Robb had an army days from the capital. The Crownlanders would be less than enthused to send their sons and brothers to die against such a host, particularly when Lord Tywin and Ser Jaime had seen such ludicrous losses.
All of which had left you in a position of strength. The Lannisters were not broken though. There were cousins in the west who could raise another great host, further bolstered with sellswords. This was not an end to the fighting. But for now, all that remained was to make contact with your son and decide what you were willing to give up, and what you were ready to demand.
[] Write-In (Prisoner treatment, exchanges, demands, concessions)
I know the Others were taken out of the quest, but Melissandre too?
