I just want to mention: Chapter 4 has less views than chapter 5. How does that happen?
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Two months before Sansa lost her son, Lady Olenna Tyrell interrupted Tywin's lunch.
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In all three of Cersei's children, Tywin could see Lannister blood.
Of the three, Joffrey looked most like his mother. His hair fell in Cersei's soft waves, shaded to match Joanna's gold. He had Cersei's pale green eyes and the fine bridge of her nose. One couldn't look at the future Baratheon king and not see his Lannister origins, yet he had none of Cersei's ambition or intelligence. He blustered until confronted with actual danger, screamed when subtlety was required, and when he should show pity he spat hatred. He showed no traits of the Lannister house, no matter what Stannis or Robert might claim. Robert had wanted to call him Steffon, but he was on the hunt when his heir was born and so his mother had given him a Westerlands name.
Myrcella resembled her mother as well. She might have been her in miniature, with the same shade of gold in her hair and full lips and high cheekbones. Yet her hair was curlier than her mother's, more like Joanna's, and her eyes were aquamarine, Baratheon blue mixing with Lannister green. She had Robert's courage and Cassana's kindness, Cersei's will and Joanna's intelligence. When she spoke with Tywin, she was curious under her courtesies, and her sweet smile and bright eyes reminded him of Joanna herself. She was easily Tywin's favorite of the three, if only because she knew her place in the world.
Tommen had more of Robert in him. Although very young, the straightness of his hair and the thinness of his lips didn't belong to the Lannisters, even Tywin's hair carried a faint wave. His emerald eyes and golden hair did, and although his hair was far paler than his siblings his eyes came straight from Joanna. He was thicker than his siblings, and he must get that from Baratheons as well, if one considered how Robert looked as he aged. He was as good-hearted as Joanna, far more than even a young Cersei, but his dedication and sweetness came from Steffon and his love of creatures from Cassana. He was not as bold as a Lannister should be, but he was still young.
The younger two were sweet enough. Myrcella hid her sharpness behind smiles and Tommen had no cruelty in him. Joffrey was different. Tywin remembered Robert's face when he lay Rhaenys and Aegon before Robert; Ned Stark remembered too, or he would not be so concerned about the girl sold to a horselord. Joffrey looked as he had far too often, and the older he became the worse he acted. Of late, he had taken to open cruelty in court, reminding Tywin far too much of Aerys. Thus Tywin did not have to demand further explanation as Olenna Tyrell fell into her tirade. He knew what the woman meant.
Tywin had settled down to lunch with Jaime and Tyrion, a Lannister family dinner to discuss Jaime's new wife and Tyrion's new position, when three sharp knocks sounded at the door. One of the door guards opened it, the Queen of Thorns visible behind him, and announced their guest's presence.
"Lord Tywin, Lady Olenna Tyrell is here to see you. He says it's urgent." At Tywin's nod, he stepped aside to allow the elder woman's entrance.
"Lady Olenna. What's brought you to my solar so early?" Tywin rarely took time to speak privately with his sons, and for his lunch to be interrupted meant that it was likely important.
The Tyrell woman didn't pause for courtesies, nor did she seem bothered by the numerous Lannisters in the room. She simply sat in the chair nearest the door and affixed her sharp gaze on Tywin, beginning without preamble, "I won't have it. My Margaery broke her fast this morning with Lady Alerie and I. Her mother found bruises on her, and I sent for a maester."
"Perhaps the king was a bit overeager, but I don't see how that is my concern. The king must have an heir," Tywin had insured Cersei knew what was required of her before she married Robert, and Margaery should have been given the same information. Baratheon men weren't known for their kindness in bed. Robert's whores were known to come from his rooms with bruised hips and legs, and Cersei had carried any complaints quietly to Pycelle rather than bother her father.
Olenna drew herself up to meet Tywin's gaze, "my granddaughter has been choked. She has fingerprints on her neck, red, purple, and yellow, just the size of the king's hands. If it had been anyone else, I'm certain she'd have gone straight to the guards and the maester. How does attempting to murder the queen bring forth heirs?"
Tywin didn't have an answer for that. He looked to Jaime, who had spent far more time in King's Landing than he, but, for once, Jaime was drinking deeply from his wine and did not meet his gaze. He looked to Tyrion then, who frowned back, and Tywin didn't need to voice his question to know the answer. Cersei had come to him only once in protest of Robert's actions. He had wanted to foster Joffrey at Winterfell, where he hoped the boy might learn manners and find a bride in Sansa Stark. Perhaps it would be better for all of them if Joffrey had gone. Ned Stark was an honorable fool, but he would have impressed upon Joffrey the importance of family and honor, and taught him to rule. All else could have been shown to him later. Now it was far too late. The Seven Kingdoms would suffer another cruel king.
"I will speak to the king," Tywin assured the furious woman, "I will impress upon him the need for heirs and explain the frailty of highborn ladies."
"If he needs an outlet, we can have Baelish bring him a whore," Tyrion mused. Tywin didn't like the idea for it's own sake. After Joanna's death, he hadn't touched a woman. Men too often listened to their lusts out of weakness.
"The king-"
Olenna cut him off, nodding briefly at Tyrion, "bring him ten whores a night for all I care, but he will not harm my granddaughter."
"Lady Olenna, the king needs a heir. I wish Lady Margaery no ill, but it is necessary for her to bear the king a son, if she can" Tywin noticed Jaime refill his glass out of the corner of his eye. He had never asked how badly Robert treated Cersei, but he knew that Jaime had heard Rhaella's torment. Perhaps three battered queens were too many.
"That is something else we must discuss," Olenna agreed, smiling, although her tone didn't change, "when Maester Pycelle examined Margaery, he found she's been pregnant around a fortnight."
"And the bruises?"
"Less than a day old. They're very vivid, I doubt they could have gone unnoticed yesterday," Tywin nodded slowly. He paid little attention to the dress of women, but even he had noticed that Margaery preferred the loose, low-cut dresses common in Dorne and the Reach.
"I will insure the king is properly occupied and explain to him the delicate nature of babies in the womb," Olenna seemed placated, settling back in his chair. Tywin had never thought the Lady of Thorns a true threat, but King's Landing needed the food they brought, and the loyalty that food inspired made them dangerous.
"Lady Alerie has suggested that we summon the maester from Highgarden. He was the only one who could help her through Willas and Margaery's births, and if the new prince's birth is as terrible as theirs was, he will be great help," Olenna helped herself to a glass of wine, giving Tywin a moment to find his answer. To refuse the aid of a maester would be seen as odd. Refusing the battered queen anything that might keep an unborn prince safe would be foolish.
"I assure you, Maester Pycelle has tended to many births, including that of the king himself. Margaery is in no danger," Olenna nodded amiably, taking a sip from her glass.
"I'm sure they'll get along well. Maester Lomys will be here in just under three moons," Olenna finished her wine and stood, smiling grimly at them, "I hope your talk with the king goes well. Otherwise, we may have to take more extreme measures to see to the prince's safety."
As she left, Tywin was left to consider that perhaps King Aerys had competition for the title of Mad King. Surely Cersei had explained to the boy the need for living wives and strong heirs. The queen retreating to Highgarden because of the brutality of the king was unacceptable, and House Tyrell seemed more than happy to leverage that. As Jaime drained his glass yet again, Tywin reached over the table and took the decanter of wine, placing it out of Jaime's reach. This did have the unwanted effect of giving Tyrion two of them, but his younger son seemed determined to drink himself into an early grave either way. Better one of them stay sober enough to discuss the queen's injury.
"Tyrion, you spend enough time in whorehouses," the word left a foul taste in his mouth. He remembered well the whore his father had kept after his lady mother's death, but better whores carry bruises than queens. "Have one sent to Joffrey tonight, in Queen Margaery's place."
"The last time I sent Joffrey whores he had them beat each other," Tyrion noted. "I believe he hated Robert's whoring, thought it disrespectful to Cersei."
"Better dead whores than dead princes," Tywin replied flatly. "I'll assign a guard to the queen."
"It won't help," Jaime hadn't touched his meal since Lady Olenna entered. His smile was gone and his eyes were dull, when he looked at Tywin, he seemed to look through him, "what guard would dare refuse the king anything?"
"Perhaps you could assign Ser Lucion to her?" Tyrion mused. His idea wasn't a bad one. The knight came from Lannisport and had served as a squire under Tywin himself. Right now, he was assigned as a guard at the Tower of the Hand, and had shown no reluctance to refuse admission to even the Kingsguard. King or no, he wouldn't allow anyone to disobey Tywin's direct orders.
"If Joffrey orders him to stand aside and he refuses, the Kingsguard will cut him down," Jaime warned. "Ser Barristan once killed a Dornishman who stood between Princess Elia and King Aerys."
"Ser Barristan is no longer a member of the Kingsguard, and those who remain will obey my orders or be dismissed from their positions as well. You forget, Joffrey is only three and ten. Until he comes of age, the Kingsguard must listen to Cersei, not Joffrey," Tywin answered flatly. "If they cause the death of the future king, I will have their heads."
"If only you can convince them of that." Tywin waved his younger son off.
"Few men would risk death for the sake of a child of three and ten getting a woman," Tywin summoned one of the guards from the door, "Ser Rollin, send for the Kingsguard. I'll see them in my solar after lunch. Send for Ser Lucion Lannett as well."
As the guard made his exit, Tyrion set his glass on the table and stood, "I'll take that as our dismissal, father. I'll go back to trying to make sense of Baelish's books."
"There was one more thing I wished to speak with you about. You remember Myrielle, Stafford's daughter?" Tyrion paused, frowning.
"Yes, she's our cousin." Jaime had stopped as well, curious about the topic.
"I've sent for her. It's time you found a wife." Tyrion's expression was almost comical, but Tywin waved past his stammered protest. "She'll be here in half a moon's turn; you'd best be ready to receive her. If she agrees to the match, I'll see you married by year's end."
"If she agrees?" Jaime eyed Tywin uncertainly, "you never asked Cersei or I if we agreed, and you don't seem to be giving Tyrion the choice. Why must Myrielle agree?"
"Her father wishes her to be happy," her father worried about how the whoring dwarf would treat his prized daughter. "She will spend time at court, and if she finds Tyrion pleasing, the wedding will be held at Casterly Rock."
"And if she doesn't find me 'pleasing'?" Tywin fixed his younger son with a hard look.
"You will court the girl as benefits a highborn lady. You will see no whores and keep your drinking to a minimum. Your children will be raised at Casterly Rock, I mean Myrielle to be one of Sansa's ladies. If the Stark girl can't run the Rock, Myrielle will be given her role." Better for a Lannister to be in wait if Jaime's Northern wife proved incapable of running a Southern seat.
It took Jaime to encourage Tyrion out of the room, his younger son seemingly torn between arguing and shock. Once the door had closed behind them, Tywin moved to his desk and began a letter, ignoring the maids who quickly cleaned away all evidence of the meal. By the time a guard knocked and announced Ser Lucion's arrival, the room was clean and the maids gone. The knight stood in front of the desk as Tywin finished the document and marked it.
"Ser Lucion, I presume you've met Queen Margaery."
"Yes, my lord. She's very kind." Tywin didn't need to look up to see that the knight seemed interested.
"You're being assigned to be her personal guard, along with her brother, Ser Loras. Will there be any problem with fulfilling this assignment?"
"No, my lord. I would be honored to be entrusted with protecting the queen." Tywin appreciated men who could follow directions without asking questions, and Lucion had long been one of his favorite men.
"You are to keep her safe from harm, and follow her directions. You are not to leave her alone unless you are assured of her safety. No men are to be allowed to be in the same room as her without you, and that includes King Joffrey." Ser Lucion paused, considering him.
"Are you ordering me to disobey the king, Lord Tywin?"
"I am ordering you to insure the king is not alone with Queen Margaery at any time. If the king protests this, bring the queen directly to me. If you don't think you're capable of this, I can find someone else to protect the queen." Guarding the queen was a coveted position, particularly for a knight not of the Kingsguard.
"I will keep the queen safe." Tywin rose to hand him the paper, giving the knight time to examine it.
"Good. This will insure that no one stops you. You are dismissed. Seek out the queen at once." The knight bowed and made his exit. As he left, one of the door guards escorted in the Kingsguard. Tywin waited until they had lined up before his desk, but before he could speak, Meryn Trant opened his mouth.
"Lord Tywin. The king commands we return to him as soon as possible." Tywin stared at him until the knight looked away.
"Might I remind you, Ser Meryn, that the king does not yet rule the Seven Kingdoms? Until the day he comes of age, you owe your loyalty to the Queen Regent, who serves in his stead. It is in her authority that I have summoned you here."
Tywin settled back at his desk, considering the men in front of him. Lord Commander Hightower, Oswell Whent, and Arthur Dayne had died out of loyalty to a dead prince, at a tower where there was nothing to defend but his ill mistress. Lewyn Martell had been bleeding from a mortal wound to his chest when he prevented Ser Lyn from rushing Rhaegar, saving his prince's life with his last breath at the Battle of the Trident. Jonothor Darry had died at the Trident as well, killed by Robert on his way to Rhaegar, by all accounts. Jaime had argued fiercely against his removal from the position, relenting only when Cersei pleaded with him, and Ser Barristan had fled across the Narrow Sea to the last of the Targaryens rather than accept a hall and servants. Those had been men that Tywin would have trusted to guard a boy king. Men of bravery and intelligence, who would not have faltered in his defense nor bent to his every whim.
These men were not.
"Ser Loras, I will be assigning you to guard the queen. You are only to allow her out of your sight if you are completely sure of her safety. No men are to be allowed alone with her without you present, not Lord Tyrell and not King Joffrey. Is that clear?" To Tywin's disgust, the rest of the Kingsguard turned slightly to look at Ser Loras. The Tyrell boy didn't look away from Tywin.
"Yes, my lord. I will protect her with my life," the boy's eyes gleamed, and Tywin knew that he would follow this command with all his heart, not only out of duty. It was safer for the unborn prince if he did.
"The rest of you are to aid Ser Loras and Ser Lucion in the queen's protection. If King Joffrey attempts to speak with the queen alone, you are not to support him. If he protests, come to me."
"Are you ordering us to ignore the king's orders?" The Lord Commander gripped the hilt of his sword and glowered.
"As I've said, Ser Meryn, the king is three and ten. You are to follow the Queen Regent's orders above his until he comes of age, and these orders come from the Queen Regent. If you have difficulty understanding this, perhaps the Kingsguard is not a place for you. Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime's dismissals show precedent for removing Kingsguard who can no longer fulfill their duties to the king." The knight was not so foolish as to miss the implication. "If the queen comes to harm because of a member of the Kingsguard, I will have their head.
"Is this understood?"
