[Wielding Joffrey's crossbow, Tyrion confronts Tywin, disrobed in the privy in the Tower of the Hand]
[surprised] Tyrion. Put down the crossbow. Who released you? Your brother, I expect. He always had a soft spot for you. Come, we'll go and talk in my chambers. This is how you want to speak to me, hmm? Shaming your father has always given you pleasure.
All my life you've wanted me dead.
[nodding] Yes. But you refused to die. I respect that. Even admire it. You fight for what's yours. I'd never let them execute you. Is that what you fear? I'd never let Ilyn Payne take your head. You're a Lannister. You're my son.
[whispers] I loved her.
Who?
Shae.
Oh, Tyrion. Put down that crossbow.
I murdered her. With my own hands.
It doesn't matter.
Doesn't matter?
She was a whore.
Say that word again...
And what? You'll kill your own father in the privy? No. You're my son. Now, enough of this nonsense.
I am your son and you sentenced me to die. You knew I didn't poison Joffrey, but you sentenced me all the same. Why?
Enough. We'll go back to my chambers and speak with some dignity.
I can't go back there. She's in there.
You're afraid of a dead whore? [Tyrion looses the crossbow bolt into Tywin's gut] You shot me. [he groans in pain as he glares at Tyrion, who loads another bolt] You're no son of mine.
I am your son. I have always been your son. [Tyrion fires another bolt into Tywin's chest, killing him]
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