He sipped at his wine, enjoying its taste and the atmosphere of the
Great Hall, the wash of conversation and the odd burst of laughter.
Despite his somewhat dour reputation he liked these affairs, not for
their own sake, but for the ability to spot alliances and alignments in
the patterns of who talked to whom.
And he had an ulterior motive also, he wanted to peruse of the high
born female flesh available and see if any of them fit the bill for his
purposes. The problem was that with the recent events and with this
marriage and the upcoming nuptials of Lord Addam Velaryon, the
formerly abundant supply of nubile daughters eager to be wed
appeared to have dried up rather suddenly. A shame that, but not
unexpected he supposed, but there were still a few likely candidates
available for him to pick from.
The elder Lannister girl was out for a start, even if her nocturnal
escapades remained secret for now he could not risk them being
used against him in the future. There were a handful of other
candidates still in the Red Keep, among them the Bolton lass, but
she looked and acted as sharp as the legendary flaying knives of her
House, so she was out. Of the remainder none really caught his
fancy one way or the other, and he was forced to admit that only the
Baratheon girls held his interest.
And the problem he had was that the one that held his interest the
most was currently sitting a few seats away from him, beside her
husband, the new Lord Regent, Prince Hugh Targaryen. For young
Floris was the sweetest peach he had ever seen, and he had lusted
after her from the moment he had set eyes on her.
But alas, she was not available to him, and despite his desires he
was not about to jeopardise everything for some cunny, no matter
how delectable it might be. Knightly fools might, and they would
destroy everything including themselves in the process, but he would
not. Oh, if he really wanted to he could no doubt destroy Prince
Hugh and remove him from the equation, leaving him to swoop in
and collect dear Floris. But that would be the height of stupidity and
folly, and he was not about to go down that path.
So instead, he put his dreams of sweet Floris, no matter how
appealing, away, and instead concentrated on which of her sisters
he would choose. The elder one Cassandra or the younger one
Ellyn, both had much to recommend, both being tall and winsome
young lasses, with Baratheon dark hair and blue eyes. From what he
had observed of them the elder one was more… wilful and perhaps
less willing to listen to sense, if her actions and amateurish plotting
was anything to go by.
Ellyn Baratheon, she of the substantial teats and an equal desire to
display them, though a rather frivolous and silly girl to his mind, was
at least possessed of sufficient brains, or lack of brains, to engage in
any of the idiocy that Cassandra indulged in.
The girl herself was good looking enough, and her teats were a
delight to behold it had to be said, yes he had made his decision, he
would approach Lady Ellyn tomorrow with his intentions.
"You look pleased with yourself Strong" came the slightly garbled
whisper from the Hand of the King, Ser Tyland Lannister.
"And why would I not be pleased Ser Tyland? Am I not enjoying a
fine old time at a royal wedding?"
"You don't fool me for a second," came the reply, with neither malice
nor joviality evident in Ser Tyland's voice, just the level inflection of
someone who was stating the obvious.
"We have retained our favoured positions on the Small Council, the
realm is finally, truly at peace, and our enemies are no more. What
more could a man want my dear Tyland?"
"Well, you want a bride for a start, and you are not best pleased that
the one you want has just been taken…."
"Her sisters are attractive enough, either one will do for my
purposes."
"You must think me a fool Strong, the elder sister would be a disaster
as a wife, the younger one would stray the moment a handsome
knight beckoned."
"We are all not as hideous as you Tyland, some women might
actually find me attractive enough…." He could say such things,
even in jest, as he and the Lannister Lord were friends of long
standing. Though even he had been horrified by what Daemon's
torturers had done to his friend, whose life had been not the happiest
of ones by any stretch of the imagination. He had lost two wives to
childbirth, along with the bairns themselves, and he had no heirs of
his body, and he was now unable to have children thanks to what
had been done to him.
"A low blow Strong, and I would not be so sure as to your
attractiveness as a potential husband either."
"I have extensive lands, and great castle, a seat on the Small
Council, even the dumbest of chits can see that?"
"I fear that your, affliction has, despite being nowhere near your
eyes, blinded you to the realities of life my dear Master of Whispers.
You would have been better off marrying that pale whore who
captured and housed you."
"Alas, the dear Lady Misery, she was scarcely of any station to marry
a Lord."
"She kept you alive and hidden in the bloody Red Keep! There is that
to recommend her!" the Hand of the King chuckled in that rather off
putting way of his.
He did not like to be reminded of this matter, and he wondered if Ser
Tyland was bringing this up for a particular reason. Probably
because the whore had slipped away before he had a chance to kill
her, and he had no idea where she was. Hopefully fled across the
narrow sea and away from Kings Landing, but his agents had been
absolutely unable to find a trace of the Lyseni bitch anywhere.
"You do not consider my niece, the lovely Lady Tyshara as a
candidate for your hand?"
And there it was, as he had suspected all along, and it took Tyland
this long to bring that subject up. That they were something of
friends and that they respected each other in a professional way, did
not mean that the game would ever cease to be played, even
between them.
"We are both aware why your niece might be less than suitable….."
"We are both aware that few, if any are aware of that unfortunate
incident, and that fewer still know the truth of the matter."
"I would rather not have this hanging over me, if you do not mind…."
"There are three other Lannister daughters, a tad on the young side I
will admit, but the eldest Lylian should flower soon enough. Given
the state of the roads and the likely fact that winter will be upon us
for several more years, it would be a long betrothal Strong."
"Which I might not survive…." He replied with no irony.
"Well, not from the hands of House Lannister anyway, so long as you
agree to this."
"What do you want Tyland, really?"
"I could give you a flippant reply like the one you gave me earlier on,
but I'll spare you. House Lannister is wounded by this war, our
securing of a dragon via Lord Addam is only a temporary measure.
We need the beast and its rider to be committed to destroying the
Ironborn threat, I will assume that you will give us your support in the
Small Council in this matter."
He did not reply, not needing to, Tyland knew him well enough by
now to gauge his moods and something of his mind.
"Once the Ironborn are dealt with Lord Addam will no doubt return to
Driftmark to rule, along with his pretty Lannister wife."
At this he cast his gaze to where the lad and his intended were
seated, the Lannister chit would eat him alive, of that he was certain,
and he would not give a copper star for the chances of that blonde
bitch straying from her husband's bed at the first opportunity she got.
"Get to the point Tyland, you are starting to bore me."
"Lady Tyshara is still a highly eligible young Lady, and we feel that
she still has considerable worth to House Lannister, and that any
mention of her youthful indiscretions should be dealt with swiftly and,
well, thoroughly…."
"I see," he replied, "and if I were wed into House Lannister you feel I
would be more, proactive in dealing with any of these potential
threats?"
"Your legendary insights have not deserted you yet Larys," quipped
Ser Tyland, the smirk on his face obvious, even if it was invisible
behind his veil.
"Young Lylian would of course come with a substantial dowry, a very
substantial dowry, more than enough to fulfil your fathers dream of
knocking Harenhal to the ground and using its stone to build a new
seat a few leagues to the south, what your father Lord Lyonel
wanted to call Stronghall."
"It is an attractive offer, it has to be said, but why do you think I would
accept it in the first place?"
"Ah, well now, that is the rub, is it not my dear Master of Whispers,
for you are not the only one who can hear the whispers in this place,
and there are many whispers spoken of you and your actions. Some
of which might not be looked upon with any great favour by our new
Lord Regent, for example."
"You have nothing Tyland, otherwise I would be dead by now…"
"Do we, have nothing I mean? The beauty is you cannot be sure my
dear Larys, who knows what secrets that pale whore of yours might
have ferreted away for safe keeping eh?"
He shrugged his shoulders internally, it was what it was, just another
travail along the road of one's life, he would continue to do business
with the Lord Hand as normal, he was a capable and competent
holder of the office. But he would not be averse to using anything
that came his way to see Ser Tyland removed from office.
"Oh, and you can stop plotting Larys, I don't want to be Hand for
ever, a few years at most, certainly not beyond the span of the
Regency of Prince Hugh. I intend to return to the Westerlands, for I
have a debt to be paid to that cunt who calls herself my brothers'
wife. And you know what they say about Lannisters and their debts?"
"Indeed, and yet you champion the cause of her daughters?"
"They are not guilty for their mother's sins, and are blood kin, no
matter what," came the hissed response from Tyland Lannister. "And
once that whore is dealt with I intend to live out my days peacefully,
I've had enough of the Red Keep and the Targaryen's to last for a
dozen lifetimes. In the meantime, I am sure we can continue working
together, I will not oppose you and you will not oppose me, we will be
family after all…."
"I may seek the Handship once the Regency is over, could I count on
House Lannister's support in that endeavour?"
"Of course, but would not our young,vigorous and Valyrian steel
wielding Lord Regent not be a shoe in for that role?"
"Not if I can help it," he replied softly, again noticing a smile twist the
hideously scarred face of Ser Tyland Lannister under his veil.