King's Landing

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Tyrion left the next morning after reassuring his brother that it would be over soon. He hated leaving him in the condition he was in, but he didn't have a choice. Jaime would be home soon, hopefully, if everything went according to plan.
Jaime had panicked when Tyrion was on his way out. Scared that his brother would leave and he wouldn't, that they'd never see each other again. That he would fall ill for the third time and would die. His days would go back to insults and beatings and chains and starvation. The Stark guards were in thier best behaviour whilst Tyrion was in camp. They wanted to show that Jaime was being treated better than he was, and even then, that wasn't exactly in line with his human rights. Tyrion was getting to go home. To the warmth, to family, to freedom, to safety.
Lucky bastard.
Obviously, he kept it all internal. The guards weren't going to know his true feelings. They pissed him off enough as it was. Focus on the endgame, he thought. Which was getting home and out of this prison cell.
As Tyrion was being shown out, Jaime was returned to the outdoor cell at the same time, deemed to be well enough to be in proper captivity again. He could always fake being ill to get more lenient treatment in the tent, but when he got inevitably found out, things would get a whole lot worse for him. Suck it up and wait it out. That was the way to go forwards.
Tyrion's heart sunk when he saw the guards pushing him towards the cell, his head bowed, shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted and hopeless. "Won't be long brother," Tyrion whispered. "You'll be back before you know it." Tyrion's horse was already saddled and fed, unsurprisingly. He reckoned Stark would want him out his camp as soon as possible. The more he could do to ensure that, the better.
The four Lannister guards who had come with Tyrion and had been in a different cell the last two days were there too, dressed, fed and mounted up already. Tyrion got up on his horse and signalled to the soldiers to follow him away from the Stark camp and his brother and on to home.

They made the long hard ride back to King's Landing, staying overnight at an inn before continuing to the capital city. Tyrion wanted to get back as soon as possible. Cersei and Tywin would become angrier every minute he wasn't in thier presence. He knew soothing thier worry was the way to go about it. When they returned, Tyrion dismounted and entered the Red Keep swiftly. He knew where Tywin would be. He found his father sitting in his chambers. He knocked and entered. When Tywin saw who stood in front of him, he stood up straight away.
"Tyrion, you're back. I need to know. How is Jaime?"
"Father, I suggest we get Cersei? I'm not going to hear the end of it if she's not here."
"Very well. I suppose she needs to know." He dispatched a guard to inform his daughter that her youngest brother had returned. Not long later, Cersei swept into the room. She slammed both hands onto the table and fixed Tyrion with her specialty evil glare.
"Tell me. Now!" Cersei demanded. Tyrion took a seat and a deep breath. His sister and father stared at him, demanding to know.
If it was me in Jaime's situation and him coming back from visiting me, would you care? Probably not.
They weren't going to like what he was going to say Tyrion needed to tell them the truth.
"I- I don't know where to start," he said.
"That bad?" Cersei asked. Tyrion's lips lifted slightly in a sad smile.
"Jaime is worse than I have ever seen him. He's being kept in a cell outdoors. He's always chained up and has multiple guards on him constantly. He's tired and malnourished and hurt. He's defeatist. But he is being taken care of by a very good medic." Tyrion decided to omit the part about the fact she used to be a Lannister medic. "He's fallen ill twice, the first time he nearly died. If he doesn't stay there for much longer he should be OK. But it's going to be a long recovery for him when he's back with us." Whilst Tyrion had been talking, Tywin's face had been growing more and more angry. Cersei's had remained stony.
"You're being serious?" Cersei whispered. Tyrion nodded.
"Oh my Jaime," Cersei breathed. Then her sorrow turned to anger. "How does Stark think he can get away with this?"
"Well," said Tyrion. "He hasn't killed him yet." Cersei glared at him.
"And the outcome of your negotiations with the Stark boy? Is he willing to return Jaime to us?"
"He is. For Sansa and a mere seventy five of his soldiers. I told him we only had two hundred of them when we have many more than that. He wants the war to end as much as we do and as quickly as possible. He's desperate for his sister as much as we're desperate for Jaime. Sansa and seventy five soldiers and we get him back." Tywin sat down and breathed heavily. It wasn't a bad compromise. The Stark girl was becoming less and less important and seventy five soldiers? Nothing.
"OK. I accept. Did he tell us when the exchange would happen?"
"He's sending a raven." Tywin nodded. He got up out his seat and paced the room. He was obviously angry about what had happened to his eldest son. Knowing it was best when thier father was like this, Tyrion and Cersei left the room, leaving Tywin to rage alone.

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