Back with Tyrion. Remember that nearly a year went on since the last time we were in Tyrion's head. Don't worry, Tavi, no more big time jump like that, I promise.
This chapter and the one that will follow will show us the influence Tyrion and Margaery are getting all over Westeros, and not only in the Westerland and the Reach.
TYRION VII
Tyrion slowly opened his eyes, to see only brown right before him. His wife's perfume filled his lungs. He didn't remember which one that was. Margaery put a different essence every day. He buried his face in the curly and thick hair of his wife. The smell was comforting. He stayed there for a very long time, breathing his wife heavily, soothing his mind and his nerves.
One of his hands was on her waist. He remembered falling asleep in this position last night. He had wanted to be close to her at this moment, to be sure that nothing would happen to her. He also needed her presence in order to forget what he had done. Cersei had threatened to strangle Margaery in her sleep, but he shouldn't have beaten her the way he did. The way he had twisted her arm was already enough to warn her, but Tyrion hadn't thought at the time. He had been furious when Margaery had come back from dinner, a concerned look on her face, and told him about her conversation with Cersei. Tyrion had immediately left for Cersei's chambers. What he told to Cersei was true. He would execute his threats if she ever dared to harm Margaery, but did he need to beat his sister? The woman his brother loved?
Tyrion closed what little distance there was between him and his wife. Her back was turned on him, but he was holding her with his right arm. He had been afraid that Cersei might really try to kill her last night, so he had wanted to be as close to her as he could. Now he only wanted to stay there and know she was safe. Cersei could do anything to him, but he would never allow her to even make a single scratch on Margaery's soft skin, or to pull a single strand from her beautiful hair. He would start a war before he allowed Cersei to do that, if that was necessary.
He filled his lungs with her scent. She was so perfect. She had made him happy, and happy for real, not only for a few minutes like all the whores he visited before. He couldn't imagine his life without her anymore. She was his most precious ally, his closest confident, the most wonderful woman he ever met, a very wise advisor, a great lover, and the woman who shared his life, night and day. One day, she might be the mother of his children, if they had any. Most of all, she was the woman he loved. And above everything else, even the fact he loved her, she loved him. He couldn't doubt about it anymore. Everything that was false or feigned in her, at the beginning of their marriage, was gone. There was nothing left of it. She showed him who she really was in all circumstances, and kept her mask for the other people. That only made him love her even more. He felt his love for her growing every day.
He breathed one last time the smell her hair liberated, then sat in their bed. He looked at her closely. If he had any fear that Cersei would actually strangle her while she was asleep, it was quickly dissipated when he saw her tummy slowly rising. She had reached her eighteenth name day not long before they left for Joffrey's tourney. She was already beautiful when they married, and her beauty had only increased during her time in the Westerlands. Growing strong. In Margaery's case, her influence had grown along with her beauty. The lords of the Westerlands, those of the Reach, the smallfolk… they all loved her. Her skills in politics and ruling were more than impressive. Tyrion had everything he could wish from this marriage. He had love and power at the same time. He couldn't have asked for better. Well, not really, since there was still something missing to their union. He tried to not think about it and began to caress the flesh of her back.
He only brushed it, trailing the tips of his fingers along her white skin. His hand wandered to her hair as well, though they were so thick he could hardly let them slip between his fingers. He went to her shoulder, then her arm, and her back again. The threats he made towards a member of his family yesterday, the way he twisted Cersei's arm, the way he made her feel pain as she laid on the floor… He did all that for her. Cersei may be of his blood, but she wasn't sharing his life. She shared it with Jaime. Tyrion wondered if Cersei would tell their brother about his anger last evening.
He heard a light giggle coming from the other side of the bed. He was moving the palm of his hand on the side of her ribs now. Hours before, he had kicked another woman at the same place. Now the woman he loved was awaken. He kept caressing her soft skin until she stretched and turned to face him, lying on her back instead of her side.
"Had a good night?" she asked him.
"Yes. Thanks to you, my queen." He leaned and kissed her on the lips. He remained close to her face afterwards, contemplating her. She looked at him, contentment and love on her face. He remembered being in the same position long ago with another woman, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it appeared. In the first years of their marriage, these memories came back very often in such circumstances, and they stayed for a long time. Now they left as soon as they came. She hadn't been real, but Margaery was.
She smirked. "I think we should get up. Don't we have a meeting with Jon Arryn?"
Indeed, they had. Tyrion got away and let her free to rise. He realized breakfast had already been brought. One of the handmaidens surely brought it while they were asleep. He climbed down the bed and put on a shirt and breeches. Margaery put on a dressing gown and went to the table.
"Are you still sure about what you intend to do?" she asked him while chewing an apple. She was very seductive this way.
"I am," he confirmed.
"I'm not sure it's the best way to have a first conversation with the Hand of the King."
"Jon Arryn already knows me. We don't need a pleasant conversation. I don't believe he likes me very much anyway." He joined her and poured himself some water. Margaery made sure he never had wine on the morning.
"Why?"
"Maybe because I'm a dwarf. Maybe because I'm a whoremonger, a drunken little lust-filled beast. Maybe because I'm the son of Tywin Lannister."
He saw anger flare in the eyes of his wife. "If that's so, I believe I should have a few good words with him."
"Don't worry. We cannot be loved by everyone, me less than everyone."
"It's still unfair. People judge you for the actions your father did, when you were among the victims of his actions. I can still understand that your brother is despised. He killed his king. He is hated for his own actions, but you did nothing."
"You don't know why Jaime really killed the Mad King. If you knew… That would be useless to reveal the truth. That would only bring more shame on House Lannister, and wouldn't help much in giving me a good reputation." How could someone think more highly of him if he learned that he raped a woman he married? And would the people see Jaime as a hero if he said to everyone what the Mad King wanted to do, after all this time?
"No more than revealing your sister's attempts against your life." Her eyes had grown hard. She didn't forgive him that yet. "You should have told me. I would never have tried to approach Cersei if I had known she tried to poison you."
"I didn't want to trouble you with that."
"Well, you failed. Instead, when I tried to see if I could get her to reconcile with you, she threatened to kill me. That's something to try to overthrow someone of your family, but to kill him? To murder him? That's entirely different."
She was angry at him. Tyrion knew she was right. He had wanted to protect his family by hiding Cersei's actions against him to his wife. He shouldn't have. He put Margaery in danger by trying to protect his own blood. "I'm sorry. I should have told you," he recognized.
"I hope the next time it happens, you'll tell me. I know what it is to rule. I grew up in the Reach, where half the houses believe they have a stronger claim on Highgarden than my family. I'm no stranger to assassinations and plots. I can take it."
"I know." He didn't doubt it. Margaery looked like a rose, but she had thorns, and she was stronger than anyone would say at first sight.
"I hope there's not something else you're hiding that I should know."
"No. There isn't." Nothing she should know.
"Good." She seemed to calm and drank some water from her own goblet. "Where did you go last night after I came back?"
"I went to see Cersei." That was the truth.
"For what?" She looked concerned.
"I told her that if she ever threatened you again, I would destroy her. Take her children away, and let her to rot in King's Landing all alone with Robert, without guards and without money."
She looked at him for a moment, her expression neutral. "Do you think it's wise?"
"My sister loves her children. That's the only good thing I can say about her. To do nothing would have been worse. I won't lay a hand on her, she's still my sister, but I am her lord and I can make sure she obeys. She won't take the risk to see Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella taken away from her. She will stay quiet."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then I will have to carry out my threats. My father used to say that we must never make threats we're not ready to execute. He was ruthless, but he wasn't a fool. He knew how to use fear."
Margaery nodded. She didn't like to talk about Tywin Lannister. Tyrion decided to change of topic.
"What are you going to do of your day?"
"Well, I'll have to see to the shipments. Some have arrived at the harbor. We must prepare everything for when the tourney will begin. And I wanted to know my nephews and my niece better."
"I have no objection for Tommen and his sister, but you'll soon find out that there's nothing much to know about Joffrey, and nothing good."
She made a face. "He could have welcomed me better at dinner."
Tyrion agreed. His eldest nephew was a spoiled brat, stupid, vain, arrogant, and without a single notion of what his duties would be when he would be king. He had more of Robert than Jaime in him. Myrcella was kind and good, the most clever of the three children Cersei had, and she was well on her way to become a beautiful and dutiful princess. As for sweet Tommen, nothing bad could be said of him. There wasn't a gentler soul in Westeros, completely foreign to all thoughts of violence or cruelty. The eldest son was too much like his mother, the youngest were everything she and their supposed father weren't.
An hour later, Tyrion and Margaery were heading for the Tower of the Hand. Tyrion knew that the Hand of the King was often the real one to rule the Seven Kingdoms. The Hand was the main advisor of the king, sat on the Iron Throne when the king was absent or indisposed, assumed the powers of the Crown whenever the sovereign couldn't or didn't want to assume them. The maesters considered Orys Baratheon, a great friend of Aegon the Conqueror, and also rumored to be his bastard half-brother, the first Lord Paramount of the Stormlands after he killed the last of the Storm Kings, to have been the first Hand of the King. Through history, the Hands had often ruled more than kings, to a few exceptions. Hands of the King had been from all origins and from all regions of Westeros. There had been bastards among them, and even lowborn people. Some kings even acted as Hand before they gained access to the Iron Throne, such as Maegor I, commonly known as Maegor the Cruel.
The Hand of the King Tyrion loved and admired the most had been Septon Barth. Maybe it had to do with his work on dragons that Tyrion read greedily when he was a lad, but that wasn't the only reason. Barth had been a friend of Jaehaerys I, a king whose reign had been a synonym of peace and prosperity. This king had loved books, and he became friend with Barth as he worked in the king's library. The septon was later named Hand of the King, and the peace and prosperity the Seven Kingdoms knew under the Conciliator were in no small part due to the work of his Hand. They created a unified code of justice, making justice the same through all the Seven Kingdoms, and abolished the lord's right to the first night under Queen Alysanne's influence. Sewers, drains and wells were built all over King's Landing to improve the people's health. They also restored peace with the Faith after a conflict that lasted a century.
Of the other Hands of the King he had in high esteem, there was Viserys II Targaryen, who served as Hand for three kings, his brother and his two nephews, before he ascended on the Iron Throne himself, only to die a year later. He kept the Realm together while the kings he served brooded, warred and prayed. Baelor the Blessed might have been loved, but without his uncle, the Realm would have fallen apart under his rule. Viserys was in fact king for a much longer time, though he didn't wear a crown. The reforms he made in the short year of his reign were more than his nephew Baelor did in ten years, during which he ruined the royal treasury by distributing bread freely to the people, imprisoned his sisters in the Maidenvault, expelled thousands of women working as whores with their children from the capital, and burnt very valuable books like Barth's Unnatural History, causing a vast lost of knowledge which would never be recovered. His uncle, by his reforms of the royal household and its functions, the reconstitution of the royal treasury, and his revisions on Jaehaerys's code of laws, left a better legacy than the huge sept Baelor couldn't see finished before he died.
There had been many more Hands of the King. There had been Targaryens, Baratheons, Tullys, Hightowers, Redwynes, even a Stark and a Manderly at the office, though no Tyrell and no Martell ever ascended to the position. As for the Lannisters, Tyland Lannister had only lasted two years in his functions before he died of a chill, and had done much more as Master of Ships and Master of Coin during the Dance of Dragons. He was expected to be a weak Hand under Aegon III, being gelded and blind, but no one could ever find out.
Tywin Lannister had left a much greater impression from his passage at the office. For twenty years, he ruled the Seven Kingdoms, and they prospered under his rule, but his increasingly difficult relation with the Mad King darkened his last years at the office. When Aerys II named Jaime on the Kingsguard, depriving Tyrion's father from the heir he had always wanted, Lord Tywin resigned. Tyrion's lord father had been Hand of the King for twenty years. Four Hands succeeded to him in the two years that followed. Two were exiled, one was burned alive, and the other ended with a sword through his heart, a few minutes before the same sword killed the Mad King. Aerys didn't survive two years without Tywin Lannister to rule his kingdoms, and the city was sacked by the man who ruled it for so long.
They arrived before the door giving access to the Hand's solar. A knight from the Vale blocked their path.
"Who are you?" he asked them.
"Who do you think I am? How many dwarves are there in the Red Keep?" countered Tyrion.
"I am Lady Margaery Lannister, ser. My husband, Lord Tyrion, and I have an audience with the Lord Hand," replied Margaery with more tact.
"Of course, my lady." He walked in, trying hardly to hide his bewilderment. Most of the people had difficulty to believe it when they saw Tyrion and Margaery for the first time together. "Lord Lannister and Lady Lannister", announced the knight.
Jon Arryn was the first of his house to ever occupy the office of Hand of the King. Considering the king he served, he did a rather good job over the last fifteen years. The long summer they had helped him a lot too, but the man had his merits, Tyrion had to concede it. He seemed to have grown older since the last time Tyrion saw him, about three years ago. His shoulders, that some said were broad in his youth, had collapsed even further. His blond hair had turned whiter than ever, he had circles all around his eyes, and both age and duties were obviously wearing him off. Still, he remained at his post, like a captain who would sink with his ship, though Tyrion wondered if he would live long enough to see the ship sink. He rose slowly to welcome them. Tyrion felt some pity for the old man, who had to suffer a drunken king and a horrible wife, and whose heir was a sickly child who Tyrion could hardly imagine to ever wield a sword, even less to learn how to use his mind. He didn't know who was worse between Robin Arryn or Joffrey. He glanced at his wife, and considered himself lucky to spend his days with Margaery, and not with Lysa Arryn or Cersei.
"My lord. My lady. Welcome to King's Landing. Please excuse me if I wasn't there when you arrived yesterday, but we were in the middle of a small council meeting, and we weren't warned about your arrival." Tyrion was quite disposed to accept the apologies. The man was sincere, and Tyrion doubted he could even lie.
"Thank you, Lord Arryn. We appreciate the thought very much," offered Margaery.
"Please sit." They accepted his invitation, and he slowly sat down in his chair as well, maintaining an appropriate posture. "The king is very pleased to see you in the capital for Prince Joffrey's name day."
"I couldn't miss my nephew's coming of age," Tyrion replied with a hint of sarcasm. "This is a good opportunity for Lady Margaery to meet my brother, my sister and her children for the first time."
"Indeed. Lady Arryn would be happy to meet you as well, Lady Lannister."
"Of course," said Margaery, all smiling as usual. "I will be very glad to meet her." Tyrion doubted it. He wondered if Lysa Arryn was still feeding her son from her breast.
"I may announce you to her right now, while I stay with Lord Tyrion to discuss a few matters of state."
"In fact, Lord Arryn, my lord husband and I both have to discuss with you about certain matters."
The Hand of the King blinked. "As you wish, my lady."
"You can consider that I'm talking in the name of my father's house, Lord Arryn," she added.
This time, he frowned. "Very well."
Margaery looked at Tyrion, and they exchanged a knowing look. It was time. Tyrion straightened himself and looked straight into Jon Arryn's eyes.
"Lord Arryn, Lady Margaery and I are quite concerned about the actual difficulties of the Crown."
"I can assure you that our king is dealing with every problem with the utmost concern and care…"
"Lord Arryn, let us be honest with each other. We both know Robert doesn't care about ruling and spends his days drinking wine and bedding every woman he chances to look upon. When he's not, he is hunting in the Kingswood. The Seven Kingdoms may be at peace and prosper for the time being, thanks to the long summer we have, and thanks to your own work as Hand of the King, but this won't last."
"I can assure you we are well prepared for winter, Lord Tyrion."
"Maybe, but I wonder how you'll manage to pay for the extravagances of our king when winter comes and there are no more harvests and less trade to tax."
"Lord Baelish managed to increase the revenues of the Crown to a great extent since he arrived, my lord. We are not in danger."
"You are. Littlefinger may have multiplied by ten the revenues of the Crown, but your friend Robert increased its expenses a hundredfold in the meantime."
Margaery joined the exchange at this moment, taking a concerned tone. "Lord Arryn, you borrowed money from us to organize my nephew's tourney, and my father told me you borrowed from him as well. Lady Lefford is a dear friend of mine, and she told me she lent you a huge amount of gold six months ago."
Tyrion spoke again. "We all know that the Crown is going bankrupt. There is nothing left from the chests full of gold and silver that my lord father and the Mad King left behind them. Robert has spent all the Crown's money, and now he's spending money he doesn't have. You began to borrow from my father long before he died. You are six million golden dragons in debt. Half of this debt is owed to Casterly Rock."
"Another million is owed to my father, Lord Mace."
"And you owe many smaller amounts to smaller houses. Two hundred thousands to the Golden Tooth, a hundred thousands to Silverhill, two hundred and fifty thousands to the Hightower, a hundred more thousands to the Arbor, fifty thousands to Brightwater, and so on. Of the six millions, five millions are owed to the Westerlands and the Reach. The million that's left is owed to the Faith, the Iron Bank of Braavos, a few minor houses in the Riverlands and the Crownlands, and some trading cartels from across the Narrow Sea."
A silence followed. Jon Arryn finally spoke. "I see you are well informed on the situation of the Crown, Lord Tyrion."
"I like to know the people to who I lend my money. And I don't like it when they increase the taxes and duties on trade, when we just lowered them."
Jon Arryn needed some time to reply. "You have to understand the Crown needs money, my lord, as you just showed it, to repay its debts."
"Lord Arryn," began Margaery on an understanding tone, "the Trade Agreement of Old Oak was signed a year ago to encourage and increase trade in the Westerlands and the Reach. We lowered the duties on trade to increase the wealth of the people, and better their lives. With your recent decision, two months ago, to increase these same duties, you destroyed everything we worked on for months."
"I'm sorry, but you have to understand…"
"We cannot allow this," she cut him in the gentler way possible. "We convinced our bannermen, both in the Reach and in the Westerlands, to lower the duties they levied themselves. We didn't do it to see the Crown steal their revenues. Furthermore, this creates a situation where our lands are more heavily taxed by the king than the others."
"Remember what I just said," added Tyrion. "You owe five millions to us and our bannermen. If we were all to ask for our money back, do you think you could manage it?"
A huge silence followed. The Hand of the King had been cornered. There was nothing he could do. He couldn't take the risk of making of two kingdoms and all their lords the enemies of the Crown for a financial matter, especially when these two kingdoms were the richest of Westeros. He surrendered.
"I beg your forgiveness. Lord Baelish believed it was in our interest to increase duties on trade with our current situation."
"So, Littlefinger is the one responsible for all of this?" asked Tyrion.
Jon Arryn didn't seem pleased to see the Master of Coin called this way. "Lord Baelish's work is to find money for the king. He only did his duty."
"And it seems the king's duty is to spend all the money his Master of Coin can find," completed Tyrion with mockery.
Lord Arryn replied on a calming tone. "We will bring the duties to their previous level immediately. We will also give you back all the excessive amounts we collected these last months."
Tyrion put on a sufficient smile. "I'm afraid we cannot accept it."
The Hand frowned. "My lord?"
"We didn't come here to ask you to bring the duties back to their former level, Lord Arryn. We want your king to abrogate the duties on trade on our territories, both by sea, and by road."
Jon Arryn's eyes showed utter surprise. He had thought he could escape with simply lowering taxes to their former levels, but he wouldn't. Tyrion knew that the Hand was too honorable to see this coming, and Jon Arryn underestimated him. In his eyes, Tyrion was still a drunk dwarf bedding harlots. He couldn't be more wrong.
"My lord…" The Hand hesitated for a time, but managed to gain back his composure. "My lord, my lady, I'm afraid this is not something we can consent to. The Crown needs these revenues…"
"For what?" asked Tyrion. "For tourneys it doesn't have the means to pay? For the many whores his Grace is visiting, or even bringing into his own bed day and night, disgracing my sister, the queen, publicly? For feasts that are meant to swell his belly more than it already is? For casks of wine from Dorne and the Arbor?"
The Lord Hand looked quite offended now. "My lord…"
Margaery intervened. "Lord Arryn, you must understand that we gave you generous loans, and the actual situation of the Crown's finances are telling us that Highgarden and Casterly Rock don't have much chance to ever see this gold again someday. We believe that you owe the people of the Westerlands and the Reach some compensation."
"I understand your point of view, my lady, but we would be setting a dangerous situation by dispensing two kingdoms from a certain form of taxes while the others keep paying it."
"How much have the North, the Stormlands and Dorne lent to the Crown?"
There was no answer at first, but it came. "I'm afraid the king must decline your request. This is something we cannot allow. House Lannister, House Tyrell and their bannermen will be refunded in time. The debts will be paid. You have my word."
"I believe your word, Lord Arryn," said Tyrion, "but I'm unsure concerning the king's word. He didn't prove he was capable of paying his debts recently. And I hope that you understand the consequences of your king's refusal."
Lord Arryn looked at Tyrion straight in the eyes. "Are you threatening us, Lord Tyrion?"
"No." Tyrion settled more comfortably into his chair, giving himself a nonchalant air. "This is no threat. I'm not telling you I will go to war, Lord Arryn. I like peace, and the people like it too. Taxes that burden all the population of our kingdoms, struggling to survive and to prepare for winter, are no good reasons enough to start a war. Unlike the kidnapping of a betrothed and a lord's execution." Tyrion saw with satisfaction anger on Lord Arryn's face. "No, I am definitely not threatening you. I'm only warning you. We will never rebel against the Crown, but the Crown may find us less obedient and eager to serve in the future."
Tyrion took a more serious expression and leaned to look straight into the eyes of the Hand. "If you refuse, you will not be able to borrow money anywhere in the Westerlands or the Reach. All houses will stop to grant you loans. I will also write personally to the cartels of Tyr and Lys, to the Iron Bank and the Sealord of Braavos, to the High Septon, and to the other lords through the Seven Kingdoms, to warn them of your actual financial difficulties. I will also tell them that thanks to our king's administration, the frontiers of the Reach and the Westerlands will be closed. The Goldroad, the River Road and the Rose Road will no longer allow trade with the other kingdoms. The officers of the Crown sent to collect the Crown's taxes on our territories will not be allowed to leave them anymore. They will be kept in our castles with all the rights and advantages that their rank gives them. I doubt that anyone will want to lend you money after this. And even if Littlefinger is capable of making a golden dragon appear by rubbing two together, I don't believe he will be able to rub them quickly enough. Anyway, with the Rose Road closed, the Crown's debts will be the least of your concerns when King's Landing starves and the people start to rebel against the king."
Jon Arryn supported Tyrion's look, but Tyrion knew the Hand was afraid. Jon Arryn knew they couldn't risk to put the Lannisters and the Tyrells against the Crown. He wasn't stupid enough like Cersei to believe people would do as he asked because he was Hand of the King. He knew the Realm well enough to know that without the Westerlands and the Reach, Robert was lost.
"I will need to talk about it with the king," Jon Arryn finally answered.
"Very well. I will be expecting a good answer before the tourney is over. By the way, to ensure that you respect the terms of our agreement, I believe it's high time that a Lannister or a Tyrell sits on the small council. And with an office, not only as a simple advisor."
"All the places on the small council are filled, my lord."
"Then I expect you to find a vacancy soon." Tyrion stood up and looked at his wife. "That's all I had to say. I recall there are other matters you need to discuss privately with Lord Arryn, my dear."
"Yes, indeed. And I still need to meet Lady Arryn afterwards," Margaery replied.
"Very well. I'll leave. Have a good day, Lord Arryn."
Tyrion walked to the door and left the room. Margaery had other things to discuss with Jon Arryn, though these things were quite related with the topic they just talked about. Tyrion had just pushed the Hand of the King into a corner. Jon Arryn knew he had no choice but to do what Tyrion told him. The Crown depended too much on House Lannister and House Tyrell. Margaery's task was now to make understand to Lord Arryn, in a softer way, that it was in his interest to accept the conditions that were presented. Margaery was very good at placing people on her side, and Tyrion had no doubt she would succeed with Jon Arryn. Tyrion would inspire fear to the man, while Margaery would inspire respect. This way they were assured to get what they wanted.
Tyrion went down the stairs and travelled through the castle to reach the apartments he shared with Margaery. Tyrion crossed the path of Lady Sera and asked her to bring him some wine. No doubt she would report it to Margaery later. On his way, he paid a visit to the Grand Maester and remembered him that he was Lord of Casterly Rock now, and not Cersei. The Red Keep was quite crowded with all the lords coming for Joffrey's Tourney. Many would have to stay in tents erected all around the outside of the battlements, and every inn in the city was already filled. The whores were certainly very busy. The tourney was bad for the Crown's finances, but very good for the Master of Coin's finances. Only the greatest lords were housed into the Red Keep.
When Tyrion entered his rooms and closed the door behind, he found a hooded figure sitting on the bed he slept in with his wife only a few hours ago.
"Please forgive me, my lord. I hope that I'm not taking you by surprise," the man said.
The man removed the hood and uncovered his head. It was bald, round like the face of a baby, and Tyrion could now smell the perfume from where he stood, many feet away.
"So it is true? I heard the Spider was everywhere at the same time, but I didn't expect that he would be into my bed as well," he said.
"Oh, please forgive me." Varys, the Master of Whisperers, stood up. "I didn't mean to offend you, my lord, or Lady Lannister. Some may believe that an eunuch sitting on a bed is bad for the fertility."
It seemed Tyrion couldn't escape it. Even eunuchs mocked him over his inability to get Margaery pregnant after two years of marriage. "What's the reason of your presence, Lord Varys? I could have you executed for getting into mine and my wife's rooms without our permission."
"Oh, everyone wants to kill the Spider," he said sadly.
"I don't believe many will weep for you."
"No, indeed. Except my little birds, they may miss me, but they will carry on, and I doubt they will weep."
"Then state your business before I ask my men to throw you out."
"I wouldn't throw me out so soon, my lord. Not before I have told you about a few things I discovered. About your sister."
Tyrion frowned. He was interested now. "Say what you want. If it's not worthy, I may just have you killed."
"Oh, I doubt the king will like it."
"He won't like it, but he may need some time to realize you disappeared if I hide your body. You disappear very often after all, Lord Varys."
"I wouldn't kill me if I were you. I am much more valuable alive than dead."
Tyrion walked to a chair and sat. "Then prove it."
The Spider took a scroll from his sleeve and handed it to Tyrion. "This is a full transcription of everything that was said during a meeting of the small council two years ago. I believe you will find the content very interesting."
Tyrion read it. It was quite long, but overall, it was a discussion during a small council meeting, like the Spider pretended, where the king, Cersei, Jon Arryn and all the small council had tried to stop the marriage between Tyrion and Margaery to marry her to Renly Baratheon. Tyrion was boiling of rage as he read this, and when he was done, he looked at Varys, who seemed to be expecting a reaction.
"Why should I believe you? What tells me this isn't pure invention?" Tyrion asked. The eunuch was sitting again, but in a chair now.
"Why would I lie about it?"
"To create a feud between me and my wife, and between our two families as well."
Varys seemed unimpressed. "If the Tyrells ever received the offer to marry their daughter to Lord Renly, then they didn't accept it. Maybe the offer came after they left Highgarden for your wedding. It was sent not long before they left. At best, they refused the proposal. At worst, they never knew about it before you were wed."
"To create strife between my sister and me," Tyrion supposed again.
"Where before there was nothing but love." He made Tyrion feel stupid with this, and he looked at him as to someone stupid. "The queen tried to prevent your marriage with Lady Margaery to make sure you would have no children and that she could give Casterly Rock to her own children, or even get it for herself. Perhaps she also wanted to stop you from gaining a significant and powerful ally against her."
Tyrion had to admit it was plausible. Cersei didn't want him to have the Rock, and he was sure she would rather have it for her children than for his. Her threats towards Margaery… Tyrion made a fist with his hand for a moment. "What did she do when she learnt about our marriage?"
"She was quite furious." Tyrion had no doubt about it. "A few things were broken in her room. Your sister began to drink much more after your father died. His loss was very difficult for her."
"I can imagine." The loss of Casterly Rock was difficult for her.
"You should be careful with your sister, my lord. She is dangerous."
As if I didn't know. "You care a lot for me, Lord Varys. I wonder why?"
"Why? I would have no pleasure to see you die, my lord. In fact, I'm quite happy you succeeded your father. You ruled quite well for the last two years, along with Lady Lannister. You handle the Westerlands as well as your father did, and the people are much better and much happier with you as their lord. I cannot say I would have hoped for the same if the queen had had her way."
"So, you care about the people?" asked Tyrion, skeptically.
"Of course, I do. The people had sixteen years of peace and plenty so far under the rule of Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn. I don't wish for this to end. If your sister was to try to overthrow you, I'm afraid all that would be lost very quickly." The eunuch stood up. "By the way, my lord, I would be careful with the Florents if I were Lord Tyrell. The Westerlands are not the only place where your sister sent ravens. I would watch closely the Iron Islands as well if I were you."
Tyrion's mind was turning. Varys bowed and proceeded to walk away, but Tyrion stopped him. "Why are you telling me this? You are sworn to serve the Crown, Lord Varys, and Cersei is the queen. Why tell me this?"
The eunuch turned to face Tyrion again. "I wish you to understand that I am far more valuable alive than dead. And maybe more reliable than the man who sent the ravens your sister ordered him to."
Tyrion already knew Pycelle had sent the ravens his sister wrote to a few houses in the Westerlands, including to Gregor Clegane. He discovered it when he interrogated the old man a few minutes ago. However, Tyrion ignored that Cersei had written to Brightwater and Pyke. Though it wasn't surprising when he thought about it. She could tempt Balon Greyjoy with plunder and kingship for joining her, and the Florents by offering them Highgarden. He had to be more careful, and to search Cersei's enemies better.
"However, Lord Tyrion, you are wrong. I do not serve the Crown."
Tyrion wasn't sure what to make of it. "Who do you serve then?"
"The Realm, my lord. Someone must. And I believe it is in the best interest of the Realm that you and Lady Margaery remain Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock as long as you can."
"Who else has my sister written to?"
"Many people."
He bowed, and this time walked away for good. Tyrion was confused by this man. He never gave much attention to Varys while he was in King's Landing, but it seemed he could be useful after all. Tyrion would have to deal with a few people when he would be back in the Westerlands. He doubted that Gregor Clegane would side with Cersei, however. Last time he heard, his keep had no maester. Those who went there didn't live long and disappeared just like all the servants. A raven would arrive, but Tyrion doubted that someone would take the message. Tyrion didn't think the Mountain could even read. He would have to keep an eye on Riverspring and the Sarwycks as well and on the other bannermen too. Of course, he should warn Margaery's father.
As he thought about it, his wife came in. "I believe he will accept. He was in much better dispositions when I left than when you did," she declared, taking a place next to him. "I think you were quite hard on him."
"I had to make him understand that I wasn't joking this time. Jon Arryn is used to my jokes, but not to my threats."
"I think you were convincing enough. Maybe too much. It won't do to make of him an enemy."
"We cannot be friends with everyone," Tyrion stated.
"I hope we won't have to execute our threats."
"You say he should accept all the terms."
"I think so. But there's a chance that he will not, and if he doesn't…"
"Then let's hope he realizes his mistake quickly."
"But Tyrion, you're not really thinking about closing the Rose Road. The people in the capital will starve. You said it yourself. We could have limited our threats to stop the loans."
"That wouldn't have been enough. The fear of famine and uprising will be much more efficient. Anyway, the threats have been made, and we'll have to carry them out if we have to."
She sighed. "Well, let's hope we won't have to stop the trade. I think I will go buy a few things at Fishmonger's Square this afternoon."
"Alright, but take a few guards with you. The streets are not safe here."
"They will follow us from afar."
"No, they must protect you, Margaery." Tyrion was firm. "This isn't Lannisport. This is King's Landing. There are people trying to rob you at every corner of the streets, and people ready to kill you under every passage way. I don't want to take any risk. I don't want something to happen to you."
Margaery looked at him, then smiled and kissed him. "Thank you for your concern, but I will be fine, you'll see. I'll take more men with me, but they'll stay away from us."
She had no idea how dangerous this place was. Tyrion was worried for her. He admired Margaery's ability to walk among the people and gain their hearts, but he was afraid that someday, someone would have the idea to plunge a knife into her heart while she was walking with children near an orphanage or purchasing a necklace in a market.
"By the way," she said, "you should know that I talked about something else with Jon Arryn before I went to see his wife."
"Really? And? How was the Lady Lysa?"
"That was… odd. Robin Arryn was with her." She didn't need to say more. "But that's not important. I talked about Myrcella with Lord Arryn."
"Myrcella?" What could she be talking with the Hand of the King that would concern his niece?
"Yes. I told him I had an unwed brother."
It took some time for Tyrion to understand, but when he did, he didn't know whether he should laugh or cry. "Your brother? Loras? Married to Myrcella?"
"Why not?" she did as if nothing was amiss.
"Please forgive me, but I think she's missing some of your brother's favorite bits."
Margaery didn't seem to find it funny. "My brother will have to marry, one day or another, and his wife will be the future Lady of Highgarden. It doesn't seem so bad to me. You don't want him to marry Lady Alysanne, so why not Myrcella?"
Tyrion needed wine. He poured himself a cup. It seemed Lady Durwell had brought the wine he asked for. It was rich Arbor gold. "I would rather see my niece married to a man who is at least interested in her, if not in love."
Margaery put her hand on his. "Tyrion, most marriages never end in love. We are an exception. My own parents respect each other and they get along quite well, but they've never been in love. My grandmother even less. Your sister is another good example. Loras will never love a woman, it's true. We can't help with that. My brother is who he is. But his wife will be one of the most powerful women in Westeros, and Loras will treat her well. He will do his duty by her and give her children…"
"And then he will go to fuck boys from behind," completed Tyrion.
Margaery's face wasn't without scorn. "Myrcella would be happy in Highgarden. I'm sure of that. And Loras wouldn't mind if she took a lover."
Tyrion half nodded. He wasn't sure. "I suppose my old self wishes for my nephews and my niece to be married to someone they love." It was the same old self who brought him to Tysha.
"If that's your same old self who made you wish to marry someone you love, then I'm glad he's still alive. Or else, you may not have fallen in love with me."
They exchanged a long look. Each day, Tyrion could see that Margaery loved him. He brought the palm of his hand to her cheek and cupped it. "A man who marries you and doesn't love you afterwards is either a fool, either like your brother."
She laughed, and Tyrion smiled to see her laugh. He loved to see her like this. How lucky he was to be married to her. It was a chance that… If the Tyrells ever received the offer to marry their daughter to Lord Renly, then they didn't accept it. He looked at her, laughing, his hand still on her cheek. She looked back and her laugh slowly faded.
"Is there something wrong, Tyrion?" she asked.
Tyrion waited a moment, then removed his hand from her face. "Margaery, tell me. Did your family receive another proposal of marriage for you, not long before we married?"
Margaery looked at him with queer eyes. "Why are you asking this?"
Tyrion seized the scroll Varys gave him before. "I had a visit from Lord Varys while you were discussing with Jon Arryn. He gave me this. It's a discussion during a small council meeting that took place two years ago." Margaery took the report and read it. He thought her eyes widened from time to time. When she averted her eyes from the parchment, he asked her again. "Did you know anything about this?"
She looked at him. "We received the proposal by raven, two days before we left. We chose to ignore it, and we rode for Casterly Rock just like we had planned."
Tyrion was stunned. The Tyrells had received an offer to marry Margaery to Renly, and yet they had chosen him instead of king's brother. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't see it any useful. Once the wedding was celebrated, there was nothing the king could do about it. And it was better to say nothing. We did as if the raven arrived after our departure."
Tyrion understood. It wasn't good to reveal to anyone that they ignored a demand from the king. Still, he felt quite touched that Margaery and her family had declined Renly Baratheon for him. He looked on the floor, the back to her. He looked at her beautiful eyes.
"So, you really wanted to marry me?" he asked.
"Of course, you silly old fool. Maybe not because I loved you at the time, but I wanted to marry you. And I wouldn't change my decision for anything in the world if it was to do again."
She leaned over him and began to kiss him. Her breath was hot. His hands came around her waist. Their tongues met, and began their dance. As Tyrion began to grip her gown more tightly, the door opened and they broke their kiss. Sera Durwell was in the entrance. She looked a little uncomfortable. It wasn't the first time it happened.
"Excuse me, my lord, my lady, I just brought you something to eat," she said.
"Thank you, Sera," Margaery replied. Lady Sera put on the table what she had brought, then left quickly. Tyrion noticed she was trying to stop herself from laughing.
Tyrion and Margaery looked at each other and burst into laughs once more. "I should have Mira to always bring our meals. She's less shocked than Sera when she finds us about to fuck," said Margaery.
"Strong words… for a queen," commented Tyrion. New laughs. They began to serve themselves.
"So," she said after some time, "the king, his council, and your sister tried to match you with a dead princess, a girl with greyscale, your own niece, and a northern lady of ten."
"It seems they did, and they failed."
"It's just too bad for them that Sansa Stark wasn't old enough. My mother met Catelyn Stark once or twice. She said she seemed to be a very devoted mother and wife."
"Well, according to Littlefinger, Catelyn Stark is more beautiful than her sister Lysa. Everyone in King's Landing knows the tale about how he deflowered the Lady of Winterfell."
"What?"
"That's what he says, but King's Landing is a place where everyone is lying."
"It isn't much different from Highgarden then," said Margaery. "I wonder what sort of Lady of Casterly Rock her daughter would have made."
"She would have needed to be older first." Tyrion would never have married a girl of ten. Margaery had accepted to marry him, but he highly doubted Lord Stark's daughter would have. Her father would probably have refused immediately when the king would have proposed him to marry his eldest daughter to the Imp.
"Of course. But if she had… Her mother is from the south, her father is a Northerner. Maybe she's not that different from Mira. Thanks to her, everyone in Highgarden and Casterly Rock knows that northern women don't all have a beard." Margaery seemed thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder how she is. My mother seemed to have a good opinion of her mother."
They kept eating in silence for some time afterwards, and Tyrion broke it. "Be careful with Myrcella. If Cersei ever learns that you tried to marry off her daughter… I don't want to be at your place."
"I only told Jon Arryn that it could be something possible. I didn't propose. I don't believe he will tell your sister."
"Only too well. My sister has many flaws, but at least there's one good thing we can say about her. She loves her children. No one can take that away from her."
Margaery nodded. "Tommen and Myrcella look like very good children. I'll try to spend more time with them while we're here." Sadness filled her face as she said it. Tyrion felt something heavy in his chest. He knew why she acted this way. "Tyrion, do you think there's a problem with us?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we've been married for two years now, and I'm still without child." Tyrion looked down. "Maybe there's a problem with me."
Tyrion looked up immediately. "There's no problem with you."
"There could be. I'm not pregnant, even if we make love almost daily." She talked as if it was an evidence.
"If there's a problem, it comes from me," Tyrion said.
Margaery looked at him with that same queer look she had previously. "Why are you so certain?"
Tyrion shook his head. "I've visited many brothels in my life, and as far as I know, no woman I was with ever got pregnant. Of course, one could have been, but there would be no way to tell if I'm the father. They see so many men, and most of them take moon tea. As for…"
He never knew if Tysha got pregnant. Even then, if she did, the father could be… "Did you have a child with Alla?" Margaery asked.
Tyrion needed some time to regain his senses. "I don't know. I never saw her since I sent her away. I avoided to stop at Kayce during our tour to not take the risk of meeting her." He kept sending her money every month, but that was all. Margaery was the only woman who mattered to him now, or at least he wanted her to be the only one.
Margaery shook her head. "That's probably nothing. Willas told me once that dwarves can have children like anyone else, and that they are likely to be very normal. My mother needed three years before she had me. I'll probably have someone kicking inside my belly before I can realize it."
They continued their meal on a lighter note, Tyrion giving more details about Myrcella and Tommen to his wife. Still, there was a certain bitterness to the atmosphere now. When it was over, Margaery got prepared to visit Fishmonger's Square with her Lady's retinue. That's how they called the young women following her everywhere, including her handmaidens, her cousins from Highgarden and Tyrion's own cousins. She kissed Tyrion on the lips and left with the Lady's retinue.
Tyrion went to the library on his side. Again, he didn't know how he could have found himself married to Margaery. So many things could have separated them. If his father hadn't died, if her family had chosen Renly Baratheon over him, if Cersei had succeeded in sabotaging their marriage, if Sansa Stark had been older… However, who warned Cersei and Robert about all this? Who told them about the two families' plans to marry them? Varys? A spy Cersei had at Casterly Rock? Someone told them. Someone warned them. It could have ruined the marriage he always dreamed of. He would find who sold him and Margaery out. And he would make him, or her, pay.
Please review
Next chapter: Margaery