Game Of Thrones... With A Twist

A Game of Thrones - Chapter 12

"Give me my life, my lord, and I'm yours." The woman begged Robb, who glanced at Bran before making his decision, "We'll keep her alive." 

The woman smiled at Robb's verdict as she bent her head with tears in her eyes.

Just as well, Theon unarmed his bow but kept his arrow in hand... just in case, of course.

<That evening, The Sky Cells, The Eyrie, The Mountains of the Moon, The Vale of Arryn...>

Tyrion rolled in his sleep, his arm dangling off the edge as the cold winds bit into his skin. 

Mismatched eyes opened to take stock of why there was so much wind in his face on and on his hand... only to widen at the sheer drop that awaited him if rolled just a bit more,

Gasping slightly, Tyrion scrambled back from the edge and back to the wall, fear coursing through his veins at how close he had come to death.

Running towards the towards the door, Tyrion called, "Mord! Turnkey! Mord! Mord!" Tyrion called as he slammed the door repeatedly... and finally his calls were answered as the jingling of keys was heard from the other side of the door as it opened and in entered Mord the jailer, hitting him with a baton as he scolded, "Dwarf man making noise!"

Tyrion found himself once again close to the edge of the sky cell before he tried his best bet: Lannister wealth.

"How would you like to be rich?" That question was rewarded as Mord his Tyrion with his baton once more. "Dwarf man still making noise."

"My family is rich. We have gold, lots of gold. I'm prepared to give you lots of gold in..." Tyrion's attempt to make a deal was cut off as Mord began searching Tyrion's pockets before looking at the bewildered Lannister with a glare, "No gold!" Mord snarled as he hit Tyrion again.

"Well, I don't have it here." Tyrion attempted to reason, only for Mord to hit him again, "No gold!" The simpleton snarled as he turned away to the door. 

"Fuck off." The jailor swore as he closed the door once more to the unfortunate Lannister's face.

With his attempt at a deal destroyed because of the simpleton's simplemindedness, Tyrion walked away from the edge and wondered once more what crime he had done to the world to deserve such a fate.

<Same time, Tower of the Hand, The Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands...>

Syrio Forell closed the door behind him as he walked up to a sober-looking Arya before he passed the girl her wooden training sword and got into a stance without a word.

Arya held the sword by the hilt before she spoke, "I don't want to practice today." 

That statement brought some surprise to the girl's 'dancing master'. "No?" He asked. 

"They killed Jory. My father is hurt. I don't care about stupid wooden swords." Arya answered in low tone.

"You are troubled." Syrio observed. 

"Yes." The moment Arya answered, Syrio hit her with his sword. 

"Good! Trouble is the perfect time for training. When you are dancing in the meadow with you dolls and kittens, this is not when fighting happens." Syrio stated, trying to teach the rapidly angering girl a valuable lesson.

"I don't like dolls and k..." Arya was cut off once more as Syrio struck again on her right side. 

"You're not here. You're with your trouble. If you're with your trouble when fighting happens..." Syrio trailed off as he struck Arya again, causing the angry girl to strike... only to be uncharacteristically defeated with ease, disarmed and on her back in seconds, "... more trouble for you." Syrio finished his statement.