Tywin III
The Black Cells certainly lived up to their name alright, as black as sin and dank and damp. Baelish was incarcerated in their furthest reaches, with all the guards replaced by Red Cloaks just to be on the safe side. No other prisoners were ensconced on this level, deliberately by my order, and as I approached the cell that held Baelish I steeled myself, Tywin laughing darkly from the recesses of our mind.
Accompanying me were four Red Cloaks as they made their way to one of the interrogation cells, where Petyr Baelish currently resided, no doubt expecting a resumption of the torture sessions he had been enduring for the past few days.
As per my instructions Baelish was chained and gagged at all times, only during his interrogations was he allowed to speak, or scream, plead and shout terrified denials in his case. No questions were asked of him regarding the death of King Joffrey as per my instructions; the only enquiry being put to Baelish was about his financial dealings and the sources and stashes of his wealth.
When he was returned to his cell his gag was reapplied and he was fed via a tube through the gag, soup and water as needed. My instructions to the Red Cloaks regarding the security around Baelish had been explicit, nobody was to be allowed access to Baelish except them, if anyone tried to gain access to Baelish, even with paperwork authorising them to, they were to detain that person and inform me immediately. All the food and water being fed to Baelish was prepared by the Red Cloaks to prevent anyone poisoning him with the intent of silencing the mockingbird.
Only one person had come for Baelish in the end, a man who had been identified as an agent of House Tyrell and I had sent the man back to his mistress in a form I was sure to give the Queen of Thorns a clear message. But it was now time to put an end to the charade of Baelish's questioning. And in truth I was also here to stop Tywin's incessant badgering and snide complaints that I was not 'man enough' to do what was necessary.
Reaching the interrogation chamber I entered, Baelish was strapped to a wooden frame, naked and gagged, he had been tortured with progressively increasing ferocity over the past few days and physically he was destroyed, missing all his teeth, most of his fingers and toes, knees and elbows broken and both arms dislocated. Yesterday they had started cutting and incising, concentrating on the most sensitive places guaranteed to cause the most pain. Baelish had been given just enough Milk of the Poppy to keep him conscious, but not enough to dull the pain completely. While I could not be absolutely certain that everything had been wrung from him Tyrion had been busy using what Baelish spilled to get a hold on his empire.
Once Baelish saw me I gave a nod to the interrogator, who pulled a short knife from a rack of other instruments and approached Baelish, his eyes wild and moans coming from his mouth. His gag was of a design that trapped the tongue; the man slid the knife into a slot in the front of the gag, Baelish screaming like a pig being slaughtered as the man rocked the knife back and forth, gripping Baelish's head by the hair and shaking it. Removing the bloody knife he wiped it on a rag and replaced it in its rack.
Baelish was making nonsensical moans, blood spluttering from his mouth, twisted sobs escaping him, his tongue destroyed and no longer capable of shaping words. The interrogator removed the gag, Baelish spitting blood and babbling incoherently.
I nodded to the man who gave him a little bow and he left the chamber, barely hearing the sound of the body of the interrogator drop to the floor outside as the Red Cloaks dispatched him.
The Red Cloaks moved further away, making sure to be out of earshot as per my instructions, and I turned my gaze fully to the pathetic form of Lord Baelish.
"You won't need to talk for the rest of your life Baelish, hence why you no longer have need your tongue. All your plots are laid bare to me Baelish, the plot to cause the Iron Bank to call in its debts in Westeros, to beggar the crown with excessive borrowing, how you started the War of the Five Kings with that note you got Lysa Arryn to send the Starks, the poisoning of Jon Arryn, your betrayal of Ned Stark, everything Baelish, everything...And to top it all the Strangler you provided Olenna Tyrell to poison King Joffrey."
Baelish struggled a little bit against his bounds, blabbering nonsense and sobs from his bloodied mouth, but in his eyes I saw real fear, he knew he was fucked, though just how fucked he would soon find out. I just stood there impassively, having utterly zero sympathy for the little shit if I was honest. Tywin had wanted to personally hurt Baelish, to carve him strip by strip until all that was left was bloody tatters that was once a man. I did not have the stomach for that but I had to dispose of Baelish myself, Tywin had goaded, cajoled and nagged incessantly about having to be seen to get rid of Baelish.
Hah! 'seen'? I was going to kill Baelish here in the Black Cells, making sure that none knew how he was dispatched.
I removed some documents from inside my doublet, strolling nearer to the frame "your signed confession, good work you will admit, even down to the slightly shaky signature and the small blood stains to add authenticity, this is your 'official' confession, while this" I held up another document "is your confession to collusion with House Tyrell in the murder of King Joffrey, again I think the work is quite good, very convincing."
Baelish started wailing and gibbering at this, blood sputtering all over his face, I ignored him and worked the mechanism of the frame, flipping Baelish over onto his front. Putting away the documents I strode over to a rack of torture instruments, selecting a narrow, hollowed out horn, open at both ends. Approached the table, Tywin absolutely refusing absolutely to guide my hands, insisting that I had to do this on my own, I prised apart Baelish's buttocks and shoved the horn into his arse, Baelish howling and trashing against this intrusion. Once satisfied it was inserted enough, Tywin confirming that it was I walked over to one of the two lit braziers in the room, took up a cloth and wrapped it around my hand. Lifting a narrow poker like iron bar from the brazier, I examined it, the end that was removed from the coals glowing a bright red/orange.
Turning back to Baelish I approached the man, steadying myself I took a deep breath, gripping Baelish by the buttocks in one hand and shoving the heated poker up into Baelish as deep as I could through the horn inserted into his anus.
The hysterical, terrified screams and wailing of Baelish as he bucked and tried to tear himself free of his binds would I was sure stay with me until my dying day. But eventually Littlefinger's shrieks and thrashing stopped and I removed the poker, needing some force to remove it, quickly plunging it back into the brazier while ignoring the bits of flesh stuck to it. I strode out of the room, walking down the corridor to the nearest Red Cloak "Lord Baelish is to be returned to his cell, I believe he is to be fed in one hour's time?"
"Yes my Lord" replied one of the Red Cloaks, wariness in the man's eyes evident.
"Unfortunately when the food arrives you will discover then that Lord Baelish has passed away, the rigours of his questioning having proved too much for him."
"Yes my Lord" the man replied, I then took my leave of the Black Cells and returned to the Tower of the Hand, once in the Solar I looked at my hands, no tremors, that was good, Tywin laughing in my head at this.
So what to do? Outside the late afternoon sun was blazing down, take the rest of the evening off, maybe even drink some of that excellent brandy that I had discovered recently, head to Chataya's for, well some 'head' and maybe even not from his favourite ebony skinned whore, maybe he would chose Myrielle, who was probably Tywin's bastard daughter to suck my cock, or return to work, after all the work of the Hand of the King was never truly done.
Tywin sulked in my head, annoyed about my somewhat fevered fantasies about Myrielle, and I was somewhat inclined to fuck what probably was his daughter, just to spite him for making me 'go solo' in killing Baelish.
But duty won out, we had much to do, and medieval paper work appeared to be an endless task, despite the army of scribes and functionaries employed by the office of Hand of the King. With a sigh I sat behind our desk and pulled the first document in the 'in' pile towards me, putting all thoughts of Petyr Baelish and the way he died from my mind.
Olenna II
Despite the rather inconvenient fact that she and all her family could have their heads adorning spikes by nightfall she was rather excited, in a slightly terrified way, of the meeting she was about to have.
Red Cloaks were ushering her into the presence of the Old Lion himself, in his den in the Solar of the Hand of the King. The Old Lion was dressed all in black, in mourning for his grandson and former King. But she knew his mourning was for show only, and that he had despised the boy, not that she blamed him, Joffrey had been such a cunt, and everybody was better off now that he had been disposed of. But there was still the rather annoying matter of how Lord Tywin had known of Lord Baelish's involvement in her plans, and equally importantly just what had Baelish said when put to the question.
As a matter of course she had dispatched one of her agents in the Red Keep to dispose of Baelish in the Black Cells as soon as she could, she had used her most trusted and competent man for the job. And two days later his severed head had been discovered in her bed no less, an unsubtle warning if she ever saw one. And so she sat down and exchanged the necessary condolences and pleasant words one was expected to exchange, all the time wondering what Tywin Lannister's game was.
Oh she hoped that he did not know the full extent of her involvement, but she dismissed that silly notion from her head almost as soon as it formed. No, she could only surmise that the reason why she still drew breath was that Tywin Lannister wanted something from House Tyrell, or that he was smart enough to know that eliminating her House would further destabilise the realm at a delicate time.
Pinning sole blame on Baelish was nothing she was concerned about, the little whoremongering cunt would have been disposed of by her in due course anyway, but as the talk turned to more serious matters she put her speculation aside, the next few minutes would potentially decide the fate of her House for ever.
"The unfortunate death of my grandson puts or alliance into something of a quandary Lady Olenna, I would like to discuss with you possible solutions to the dilemmas we both face" the Old Lion announced, his face in semi shadow as he sat behind his great desk.
She almost laughed at this, was he really trying to hide his face from her, truly? At least he was smart enough to ask her directly and not deal with Mace; she gave him that at least.
"Indeed, quandaries and dilemmas all round" she replied, wanting to goad the Old Lion in his den, for despite her fear, she was not going to submit one inch to the Lord Hand if she could.
"King Tommen will marry Lady Margaery, but not for a few years yet, the boy is far too young as of yet."
"Nonsense, so long as his stones have dropped he can father children, Margaery has wed two Kings already; I hardly think it fair to make her wait very long for a third?" The Old Lion did not want to let this cub out from under his paw anytime soon, not that she blamed him, moulding and guiding Tommen would be a vital task to ensure Lannister power in Kings Landing.
"Nevertheless, I, and I'm sure his mother would agree on this point, feel the Tommen is too young to marry, however he should be betrothed to Lady Margaery as soon as a suitable period of mourning has passed."
"Two moons, no longer, and marriage two years after the announcement of the betrothal" she announced confidently, her mood brightening considerably at how the conversation was progressing so far.
Lord Tyrion rose from behind his desk and walked to a sideboard, pouring out two glasses of well watered wine.
"Very well, on condition that Willas Tyrell marries Cersei, again after a suitable period of mourning, say two moons?"
"Unacceptable" she responded immediately, the utter gall of the man "my grandson is heir to Highgarden, your daughter is...."
"...rich, the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros and mother of the King."
"Old" she replied as she took the glass from Lord Tywin, a fine green tinged myrish glass.
"Old?" he asked as he sat down behind his desk.
"Old, I'm something of an expert on the subject. Her change will be upon her before long, I'll spare you the details of what will happen then. You men may have a stomach for bloodshed and slaughter but this is another matter entirely."
"The years punish us as well, I promise you that" replied the Old Lion, taking a sip of his wine "should you accede to the wedding of Lord Willas and my daughter I will name Ser Loras to the Kingsguard, I have heard tell that he would welcome the chance to stay in Kingslanding and be a guard for his sister."
"He may decide to stay in Kingslanding anyway without the need to don a white cloak" she replied, slightly more testily than she had intended, the Old Lion was a presumptuous fart, arrogant and overbearing to a fault.
"I would have thought that having Ser Loras elevated to the Kingsguard would greatly assist in removing the rumours that swirl around him and his preference in bed partners?" the Old Lion pausing before continuing "do you deny the rumours about your youngest grandson?"
"Oh not at all, a sword swallower through and through" she replied offhand, no point in denying it, Loras was what he was and there was little to be done about it, despite Mace's obstinate refusal to believe the truth about Loras.
"So he should be grateful to be offered the chance to serve on the Kingsguard and wipe the stain of his affliction from his honour."
"Did you grow up with boy cousins Lord Tywin? Sons of your father's banner men, squires, stable boys?"
"Of course" the Old Lion replied, his voice suddenly low and dangerous.
"And you....never....?"
"No" he replied emphatically.
"Not once?" she asked her tone slightly playful, ah she had gotten under the Old Lion's skin, good.
"Not in any way?"
"Never" the word said through gritted teeth.
"I congratulate you on your restraint Lord Tywin" she said, raising her glass in mock salute to the stuffy Old Lion "but it's a natural thing, two boys having a go at each other under the sheets?"
"Perhaps Highgarden has a higher tolerance for such things?"
"Oh I wouldn't say that, true, we don't tie ourselves into knots over a discrete bit of buggery, but.....brothers and sisters? Where I come from that stain would be very difficult to wash out...."
There, it was out on the table, now we shall see how the Old Lion reacted to this accusation? She still did get the feeling that Lord Tywin was holding something back, that he appeared just that little bit too controlled, too sure of himself, too smug. And once again the terrible fear of what he likely knew about the murder of Joffrey crawled up from her gut, but she kept her concerns from showing on her face, there was a game to be played here, a game for survival first and foremost, and after that for position. Based on what had already been discussed things were not too bad for House Tyrell, Margaery would be Queen, and wed to a much nicer boy than that moronic beast Joffrey, Loras would get into the Kingsguard, one way or another, something he had always wanted she knew. So just why was the Old Lion being so accommodating to House Tyrell?
"I will not breathe further life into a malicious lie by discussing it further" Tywin growled at her.
"Lie or not, you must admit that many people feel it quite convincing, enough to put swords in their hands and send them off to kill Lannister's, and Tyrell's, thanks to our new affiliation."
"The majority of the swords raised against us now are as a direct result of Joffrey's stupidity in cutting off Eddard Stark's head. You supported Renly's claim to the Iron Throne, I'm sure not out of any real belief in those rumours but out of a gimlet eye on gaining the Iron Throne. Only Stannis still clings to the delusion of that filthy slander about my grandchildren, and I'll deal with him soon enough. I don't care what people believe, and neither do you..."
She gave a little laugh at this preposterous outburst from the Old Lion "as an authority on myself I must disagree."
"Now, if the rumours about my children were true, then Joffrey was no King, and neither is Tommen, so why were House Tyrell so keen to wed Joffrey, and now so keen to wed Tommen?"
"And if Cersei is too old to give Willas children? We simply cannot take that chance!" she replied, deftly avoiding the Old Lion's question.
"Hrmmm, I see all this uncertainty makes you uncomfortable, let me remove it for you then in that case" and with that he picked up a parchment from his desk, stood up and walked around his desk to stand over her. Trying to physically intimidate her by towering over her, my, how cheap...
"I have here a signed confession from Lord Baelish, not the one read out in court of course, this one details the collaboration between him and House Tyrell, how many times he met you or your agents, the purchase of the Strangler, the details of how it was handed over to House Tyrell. More than enough for all of you to find your heads swiftly removed...."
Ah ha! Finally the Old Lion shows his claws, and so well played it was; lulling her into a sense of false confidence before snapping shut the jaws of his trap. Now comes the interesting part of the conversation, the real meat of what they were here to discuss, she steeled herself, while at the same time feeling that familiar frisson of tension and anticipation at what was to come. But to show a bit of her hand also hrmmm? Yes, better to seem confident and competent than look like a helpless fish hooked on a line. She let her eyes scan the page before her, it looked believable, the dates and locations mentioned, descriptions of the people involved, even her presence in Baelish's gaudy brothel were listed. The question of it being a forgery or real or not even entered her head, it was enough that the Old Lion had such a document and that he would be prepared to use it was sufficient for her.
"No sense in denying it I suppose, though I had wondered why you never moved to counter what I was planning. We are all better off without that idiot Joffrey on the Throne, you as much as I!" as she looked up into the Old Lion's eyes, gauging his reaction. His eyes remained flat and cold as ever, revealing nothing, which to her was as much of a revelation as if they had widened in surprise. So the Old Lion was not unpleased with her removal of Joffrey, rather that it suited his purposes, as did pinning it on Baelish, who if rumour were to be believed had tried to beggar the Iron Throne.
Though this might look like something of an impasse she knew better, it was not, House Lannister held the whip hand, now it was time to see the full price of the debt that the Hand wanted to extract.
"Very well, should Willas not marry Cersei, Loras will not join the Kingsguard nor remain in Kinglanding beyond the marriage of Tommen and Margaery, but Tommen will betroth and then marry Margaery in the agreed time. There will be no more mention of vicious rumours or slander, and House Tyrell will continue to provide the Iron Throne with its generous support until the realm is at peace and nothing more threatens the Iron Throne. And Lord Baelish, along with unnamed Targaryen sympathises will carry the blame for my grandsons death, with no mention of the complicity and guilt of House Tyrell in his murder."
She considered this for a merest second; the Old Lion had not pushed the matter of the marriage of Cersei and Willas, for which she was grateful. Loras not being elevated to the Kingsguard was a disappointment, but something that could be rectified in a year or two when the Old Lion finally was unseated from his position as Hand.
Overall it was fair enough, suspiciously so, and the commitment to support the Iron Throne, well she would see that any and all support was designed to maximise the status of House Tyrell. All in all she had gotten off lightly, especially given the reputation of the man sitting opposite her; she had fully expected a song to be penned after the destruction of her House, probably mentioning rains weeping over their halls or some such maudlin nonsense....
"It's a rare enough thing, a man who lives up to his reputation" she replied, giving the slightest bow of her head to signal her acquiescence to what had been discussed and agreed, smiling inside at the thoughts of Tywin Lannister being taken in by her insincerity.
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Tyrion X
"You disapprove" his father said with a characteristic lack of emotion.
He had just been returned to the Red Keep a scant few minutes ago, he, Jamie and Brienne of Tarth had been released from their so called 'protective custody' several hours ago. The three of them were escorted to Kings Landing where they had found the place in uproar, learning the news of Joffrey's death at his wedding. Jamie had disappeared off the moment they had reached the Red Keep, no doubt to be reunited with Cersei, Brienne had been escorted off somewhere and he had made straight for the Tower of the Hand. Accounts were as usual conflicting of exactly what had happened, was he poisoned or had he choked to death? Poisoning seemed to be the most likely and apparently Lord Baelish had confessed to the heinous crime, unfortunately perishing shortly afterwards due to the rigours of the questioning he had been subjected to.
He sat at the far end of the table that the Small Council used in the Hand's Solar, warily regarding his father, and cognisant that he had to be very, very careful with what he said. If his father was ruthless enough to kill a King, even a thoroughly shit one like Joffrey, he was sure that the Lord Hand would have no compunction about killing him, father or not.
"It, it was certainly quite the spectacle, or so I'm told, the boy King choking and pleading, his eyes standing out of his skull, red with blood, his lips purple, gurgling and gasping for air. With his mother screaming for my head, how thoughtful, nay how prescient of you to have my good self removed from Kings Landing father.....And with Jamie also not present in the capital...."
"Just so we understand each other" Tywin hissed through gritted teeth "it was not me who poisoned that inbreed bastard.....it was the Tyrell's with the help of Baelish..."
Tyrion very nearly fell off his chair at that, by the gods, not only did his father know of Cersei and Jamie's crimes it seemed that he allowed the Tyrell's to murder Joffrey! He would have to be doubly careful with what he said....
"Do you think that Olenna Tyrell would let that monster hurt Lady Margaery? You think that once that old hag became aware of Joffrey's nature that the boy's days were not numbered? The Queen of Thorns is no fool, Tommen is now King and Margaery will be wed to him, a much more pleasant, and malleable young man for the rose of Highgarden and the Queen of Thorns."
"But, but you let this happen? Joffrey was a disastrous King yes, but, but....."
His father stood up, walked to a sideboard and poured out some well watered wine into two goblets, walked over to him a handed him one, his father took a drink, his green eyes boring into him "Do you know why treason never prospers Tyrion?"
He took a long, long gulp of wine, deciding to finish the entire goblet in one draught, to get his thoughts in order, but realising that there was probably no correct answer to his father's question.
"No?" his father asked when he did not respond "the reason that treason does not prosper is that should it prosper, none dare call it treason. Remember that well Tyrion..." his father said, looming over him.
"And....Tommen and Mrycella?"
"What of them? Do you think I intend to broadcast their status as bastards born of foul incest to the world? To have everyone from Princes to smallfolk laughing at us, at House Lannister?"
'Laughing at you' Tyrion corrected his father in the safety of his own mind.
"No, I will deal with your sister and brother on my own good time for their disgraceful crimes against their blood, and I will have to rededicate myself to ensuring our line continues, free of blemish."
Oh, interesting....but a dangerous thought dominated his mind, and he had to ask "what, what of Jamie and Cersei? What will become of them?"
For a moment or two his father just gazed mercilessly at him, before answering "Your dear sister is distraught by the death of her son, she is sedated currently, once she recovers she will be married off with as much haste as possible and as far away as possible so that I will never have to set eyes on her again. Jamie will no doubt want to take up his duties as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and he can spend the rest of his life guarding his bastard son."
Never let it be said that Tywin Lannister had an ounce of pity or remorse in him, well time to move on then "I believe that I now have to take up my new duties as Master of Coin?"
"You do, Baelish sang like the songbird that was his sigil, he thoroughly implicated the Tyrell's in Joffrey's demise, something that I made Lady Olenna aware of. She still tried to bargain her way out, in fact I even gave her more than she thinks I should have, but for now let her think she has won a little victory."
"Most unlike you father?" he quipped, unable to resist, even given the seriousness of their conversation.
"Olenna Tyrell knows the limits of my patience and forbearance, I trust her to honour our arrangement so long as it benefits House Tyrell, no more, no less."
Tyrion did not respond to this for a second or two before saying "it has been publically announced that Baelish conspired with unnamed Targaryen loyalists to murder Joffrey, and thus all is nice and neatly wrapped up if I say so myself. Joffrey is dead; Tommen will be subject to the Regency of the Small Council for several more years, probably won't be married to Margaery for at least two or three years. Which leaves you in effective control of the realm, and along with the majority of the Crowns debt owned by Casterly rock.....nice. I have to say it's all worked out perfectly for you in the end father, well done!" he could not let a slight note of sourness creep into his voice, his bloody father had gotten exactly what he wanted again, like every fucking time, and it was so dammed annoying.
"Has it now?" his father responded, the slightest of snarls in his voice "you think this is a game, that the outcome is certain? Your brother and sister have almost destroyed this family, and nearly taken the entire realm with them. This war can be laid at the feet of their stupidity; you think I want to spend my days sorting out their mess? House Lannister nearly fell in my father's day due to stupidity; I won't make that mistake again, ever...."
"You, you mentioned ensuring that our line continues? You have yet to inform me of who I am to marry?"
"You have no need to worry, the maid I have in mind for you should meet all your requirements, but I'd see to that whore of yours first, send her away with enough coin to make the parting profitable enough for her."
He gritted his teeth at this, anger flaring on his face despite his best efforts, glaring at his father, whose face looked mildly amused.
"I know you have feelings for the girl Tyrion, but you will need to divest yourself of her sooner or later, you have your duty to your family to consider."
"You mean to you!" he snapped out, unable to help himself.
"Tyrion, you are not a child, I am giving you an opportunity to do this your way, and surely you don't want to do this my way?" he asked; his voice as cold and merciless as always.
"You..." he choked out, rage filling him.
His Lord father merely looked at him as he raged, unable to form words, until the Old Lion remarked "Now to more important matters, the Starks and Tully's have decided to come to the negotiating table."
"Is that so?" he asked, momentarily taken back by the change in subject, his anger cooling slightly "Interesting, what made them decide to finally see sense then?"
"I made them an offer they could not refuse" his father replied, the barest hints of a smile momentarily tugging at the corner of the Old Lions mouth.
Tyrion shuddered at what that meant in reality, probably a lone musician playing the 'Rains of Castamere' outside Riverrun...
"Baelish killing Joffrey removed a major obstacle to peace, and since they no longer have Jamie they have little to trade or offer, they were at the end of their rope, The Karstarek's marched home after he took their Lord's head, the Bolton's appear to have deserted, or rebelled, or been overwhelmed by an unknown force, the information I have is contradictory on that point. And the Frey's have abandoned them sighting Robb Stark's delay in marrying one of their spawn as breaking his oath to them when they let his army cross The Twins."
"The most expensive Toll the Frey's ever levied I'll wager" he quipped, but his father gave no outward response to this "Though Walder Frey does not strike me as a brave man, calculating yes, be brave, no....his abandoning his King's cause, and throwing away the chance, however slim, of a Frey being a Queen? You bought him, didn't you?"
"I did, the Karstark's Robb Stark did all on his own...The boy's mother Catelyn Stark released Jamie, though his maiming is regrettable, another debt the Stark boy owes me. Now they have only one thing left to negotiate with Tyrion, their lives."
Seeing as how the Bolton's maimed Jamie he would not put it past his father to have been involved in the apparent slaughter that took place in Harrenhall, but as to why the Old Lion was being so coy about it he could not fathom.
"Hrmmm, looks like everything will be wrapped up quite nicely, just leaving Stannis and the Iron Born to be dealt with. Again father, masterfully done" he saluted his father with a nod of his head, while inside bile scorched the back of his throat, his dammed father, having everyone dance to his tune and do exactly what he wanted.
"There will be some details to be worked out before they bend the knee to Tommen, I will require your assistance in this matter, you know the Starks from your time in Winterfell."
"Of course father, though I would be careful to not insult Robb Stark, and not call him a boy for starters."
His father glared at him for a second or two before continuing "We, you and I, will be heading north to meet with Robb Stark on the borders between the Crownlands and the Riverlands. There we will discuss the terms for him bending the knee and surrendering his crown, the second Stark to do so if I recall....he will also be agreeing to the marriage of his sister Sansa, for his sake the lad better not act all butt hurt...."
Tyrion was overcome by a fit of coughing and laughing, 'butt hurt', my but where did his father get these sayings from?
"And just which one of the Lannister clan is being so honoured with the hand of Lady Sansa?" he asked once he recovered himself, suddenly terrified his father would have him wed the Stark girl.
"Me" his father announced his face hard set and unsmiling.
Tyrion could have fallen off his chair with the knock of a feather he was so surprised.
Varys II
Sitting in his chambers the Master of whispers had much to consider, to ruminate on, and to plan for. With Lord Baelish's removal he thought he would have felt something of joy at the mockingbird's demise, but instead all he felt was dread, brought about by the swiftness, the ruthlessness of Lord Tywin in dealing with Littlefinger, and to such apparent advantage. He had grossly underestimated the Old Lion, he had thought him just a cantankerous old beast and too interested in using blunt violence to ensure his will was done. And yet the last few days had shown the subtle work of a true master, one he could almost admire he realised with a profound shock.
And yet what did this new and terrifying developments mean for him and his plans? The two threads of his plans were moving on as planned, secure as far as he could make them secure, but the events orchestrated by the Hand were sufficient to make one pause and consider.
And to consider fleeing while one still had a head attached to one's body, for he could expect any mercy should the Old Lion get even the merest hint of what he was up too. His little birds had been expulsed from the secret passageways of the Tower of the Hand permanently, and a distressing number of them were turning up dead, both in the Red Keep and in Kings Landing, a sorry state of affairs as it reduced the amount of songs he could hear sung every day.
But on the other hand, things were just so much more interesting now, a new King to crown, a Queen not yet bedded being positioned to marry yet another King after a suitable span of time, and the War of the Five Kings as yet not resolved. Though with Joffrey and Renly dead could one still call it the War of the Five Kings? The War of the Four Kings did not quite have the same ring to it he was honest with himself.
On that note his little birds sang a song of a treaty that had mystified him at first, until of course King Joffrey had so tragically been murdered by Lord Baelish. It all began to make sense now, the Old Lion had obviously become aware of the Tyrell plot with Baelish to kill Joffrey and rather than oppose it had used it instead to his advantage. This explained the reckless way that Lord Tywin had acted around Joffrey, his seeming delight in thwarting Joffrey and Cersei, for now with Joffrey removed he could deal with a much more agreeable, and pliant King, the young Tommen.
Tommen might even grown to be a decent King under the tutelage of the Old Lion, but he was sure that poor Tommen would never grow into his Kingship, for Aegon and Danaerys would be back in Westeros long before Tommen came to sit well on the Iron Throne.
And even before that, should it become necessary to advance the cause he had dedicated his life too? Well Kings had been dying ever so frequently of late, what was another one to that list? Maybe he did not even need to dispose of the King, the truth of his true parentage had been a potent weapon in Baelish's hands, and could he not make the same use of that dark and terrible secret?
But there were the potential upcoming nuptials of Lord Tywin and Lady Sansa to consider, a turn up for the books if ever there was one. The girl would likely be totally subsumed by the Old Lion once he got his cloak over her shoulders, a mere plaything for him, but yet a valuable plaything. For if anything should happen to Robb Stark her children with Lord Tywin would inherit the North, equally precarious was the life of Edmure Tully, should he fall Sansa's children would also stand to inherit the Riverlands. The arrangement brokered was supposed to be a secret, but his little birds had reported this morsel to him from Riverrun, and he wondered who he might whisper this choice piece of news to in Kings Landing to gain the most effect...
So the Old Lion desired a solid power block for the next generation to counter the Baratheon/Tyrell axis forming in Kings Landing, of that he was sure, the only question was if the Old Lion would leave things to chance or would he see to the demise of his erstwhile relatives himself?
As he said, a formidable player of the Great Game alright, and someone worthy of respect and not a little fear, but he had survived in the court of the Mad King, had survived the years of Robert's dissolute reign. It would be a challenge surely to survive, let alone prosper, but he felt that his plans still needed his own touch here in Westeros; abandoning things just right now might be premature in the extreme. And should he fall? Well his plans were well enough advanced that his demise would be of little overall consequence, and Illyrio knew what had to be done, there was enough coin salted away for the Golden Company to be hired and committed to the restoration, and the union of Aegon and Danaerys would present a solid front to rally Targaryen loyalists around. And that was before Danaerys's dragons were considered, such a fortuitous occurrence he delighted, but still it reeked of magic, and that he was of course wary of. Now all that was needed was a few more years for the beasts to grow and become more ferocious, along with making sure that the reign of poor young Tommen was beset with all sorts of problems and tragedies.
For a start his grandfather would have to be removed from play, despite his grudging admiration for Lord Tywin he simply had to go, he was far too much of an obstacle to his plans. But how to remove the Old Lion, he supposed it was too much to expect that Lord Tywin would retire to Casterly rock with his new Stark child bride and spend the rest of his days making her fat with babies.
No, the Old Lion would likely triumph, having ended the war and continue being Hand of the King, with all what that entailed. And there was the not inconsiderable amount of coin the Iron Throne owed Casterly rock, nigh on nine million gold Dragons if his sources were accurate, with Lord Tywin as Hand and Lord Tyrion as Master of Coin, the Lannister's were going to be paid their debts, one way or another.
So he bent his mind to work, there were still several unresolved items that had the potential to cause trouble for the Iron Throne, the Ironborn, the Vale and the brooding Stannis Baratheon on Dragonstone, and while these were all serious threats, there were other things that could be done in the short term to make the Old Lion's grip on power less secure.
For start there was the new alliance with the Tyrell's, which so easily might have gotten off to a rocky start, and which might yet, with a little help of course. The Tyrell's were obviously being blackmailed by the Hand over the death of Joffrey, so there was potential to sow discord amongst this relationship, twisting things to sour the Tyrell's towards House Lannister. Or, the perennially fractious nature of Reach politics could be exploited to reduce the influence of the Tyrell's at court, many were the Houses of the Reach that envied and despised the Tyrell's, there would be no shortage of candidates that could be manipulated to do his bidding in this regard.
Or maybe even both options together? Ah, what a delicious thought, to pit wits against the Queen of Thorns, it was sure to be a worthwhile exercise.
And of the other problems confronting the Iron Throne, each one had a potential to damage the fragile calm sure to descend after peace was made with the Stark's and the Tully's. It would be such a shame for renewed fighting to break out, with autumn nearly upon the realm and the smallfolk exhausted by war. Each one of these problems were examined, all had potential, indeed all could be steered in subtle ways, both by him and by his birds so as to maximise their potential for disruption.
The Ironborn were slightly more difficult to utilise, their stupid ways made them somewhat resistant to his normal methods, but songs about the upcoming alliance between the Westerlands and the North was sure to concentrate their minds. Add to that the movement of elements of the Westerland and Reach fleet to Blackwater bay, and he was sure the Ironborn would act true to form and continue to cause trouble.
Lysa Arryn could be manipulated by the fact that the Old Lion killed her lover Petyr Baelish, who was also the most likely candidate for the father of her son, so her continuing resistance to the Iron Throne was assured. Some messages containing details, some fabricated but others true, of the tortures Lord Baelish suffered would be sure to inflame Lady Arryn further.
And while Stannis Baratheon was said to consort with a Red Priestess who saw visions in the fire he was sure that a warning of the impending fleet movements from the west coast of Westeros to invest Dragonstone would certainly interest Lord Stannis.
All in all he was confident that he could continue to keep the realms from having much in the way of peace for years to come, and to thus prepare the way for his carefully nurtured plans to bear fruit.