Chapter Twenty-Five: Cyvasse
A/N: I had hoped to update this story during the last season, despite a lack of reviews lately - I've waited such a long time to write this part, so I hope you do enjoy it! Feedback is, of course, always appreciated.
In terms of the title, in case anyone had forgotten, cyvasse is a chess-like Westerosi game.
The gates of Storm's End loomed high, but the proud red and black banner of House Targaryen rose higher still. It whipped about in the chilly breeze, and Tamara raked her red hair back from her face to better examine the castle. She had never been so far south before, certainly never into the Stormlands. Tamara had once wanted to see all of the seven kingdoms, but she had not wanted to come to Storm's End under such conditions.
The Targaryen banner might fly, yet that did not make this Aegon of dragon blood. Tamara dismounted her horse as the gates opened, Alek mimicking her movement in an instant. She held her head as she approached, hands clenched by her sides. Gone were the days when her foes would see a girl easily swayed, yet all the bravado and pride in the world would not make this Aegon see her as a woman. Only her words could do that.
The young man who strode out to meet them was perhaps of an age with Tamara. A brief examination confirmed he had the Targaryen look of silver hair and violet eyes. He was certainly attractive. His companion was a middle-aged man with greying red hair, whose expression was as guarded as Aegon's was open.
The silver-haired young man stopped before Tamara. He was as tall as Jaime, or close enough to. Aegon smiled and inclined his head, taking Tamara's hand and pressing his lips to the back of it. She did not return his smile, but allowed the formality.
"Lady Arryn." He released her hand and gestured broadly. "Welcome to Storm's End."
"It isn't much of a welcome." Tamara arched an eyebrow. She knew that her first words would set the foundation for Aegon's impression of her. They had to count. "Your men look as though they're about to attend a funeral. Am I truly that imposing, Lord Targaryen? If that is really your name, of course."
"You would do well to show respect, girl." The older man's brow furrowed. "You have the privilege of addressing Aegon Targaryen, King of Westeros, Lord of…"
"Jon," Aegon chastised, shaking his head slowly. "You cannot expect the lady to fall to her knees and swear fealty upon meeting me. She has come because her husband is our prisoner."
"I have made a point of not swearing fealty to any would-be monarch," Tamara said pointedly, staring hard at the older man. Jon Connington, if the rumours and Aegon's address of him were correct. "I am hardly about to bend the knee within moments of meeting your King."
"I would expect nothing less." Aegon nodded approvingly, and then offered his arm. "Come. You must be weary from your travels. You and your company are our guests, and would be welcome to rest and recover within the walls of Storm's End."
Tamara did not take the proffered arm. "My family were invited in as guests at The Twins and then brutally murdered by the Freys and the Boltons. You will excuse me for not having confidence in your words."
Aegon raked a hand through his hair. Her words had certainly thrown him off, for she doubted there were any in Westeros who had not at least heard what had occurred during the now infamous Red Wedding.
"How can I prove that I am a man of my word, Lady Arryn?"
"That is all you can do – prove it." Tamara cast around as if expecting to see Jaime standing in the Targaryen boy's assembly, although she knew well he would be kept in a more secure location. "Where is my husband?"
"He and his friend are quite safe," Aegon assured her, "You may visit them if you wish. I only ask that after you have rested and bathed, you join me for dinner, and there we can discuss an alliance."
Tamara's smile was sweet as sugar. "I would be delighted."
Jaime's eyes were adjusted to the darkness of the dungeons, and so the brightness of the torch when it was carried through his stone prison made him grimace and shield his eyes. However, once he adjusted and lowered his hand, he stilled at the sight of his latest visitor.
Tamara stood at the other side of the bars, a burning torch in her hand and a wry smile playing about her lips. There was something different about her, although he could not have said what it was.
"Hello, Jaime."
Jaime heaved a sigh. Had he really thought Tamara would ignore Aegon's summons? He had rather hoped she would, if only to avoid putting herself in the precarious situation they were now in due to her arrival. Aegon had them both in the palm of his hand, and at least Jaime had the sense to realise that.
"You just couldn't have stayed away."
"Did you expect anything else?" Tamara's tone was amused as she reached up to place the torch in a metal bracket on the wall. The movement of her dress made Jaime realise what he had not been able to put a finger on – the swell of Tamara's stomach beneath the folds of fabric.
"Are you…?"
"Yes." Tamara smiled, pressing a hand to the slight bump. "I'm with child. I would have brought Dianella here to see you, but the dungeons at night aren't really the place for a little girl."
Despite being pleased that his wife was again expecting, Jaime was stunned at the danger she'd put herself and their child in.
"You came here, knowing you were pregnant, bringing our daughter with you…"
"Would you have had me condemn you?" Tamara responded impatiently, blue eyes flashing in the firelight. "I know what I'm doing Jaime. Do you? Apparently not, since I am the one needing to come to your rescue."
Her words sliced at him like blades, but he could not deny the truth of them. Jaime was the one imprisoned in the dungeon, while Tamara had been cordially invited to Storm's End like a guest at one of Renly Baratheon's ridiculous balls. Jaime had been to one of the balls Renly had hosted in these very halls. One had been more than enough.
"Aegon will use me to force you to swear fealty to him," Jaime said irritably, "Did you truly not think of that?"
"Of course I thought of that," Tamara retorted, curling her fingers around the bars of his cell, "In fact, I counted on it. Aegon needs me as an ally, but fealty doesn't come for free."
Jaime's stomach twisted. "Tamara, what are you asking in return? What is the going price of the Vale?"
"Aegon will win back the North for us."
"What makes you think he will keep his word?" Jaime thought it was oddly naïve of Tamara to rely solely on a promise. "Once you swear fealty, he could turn around and abandon your dear cousins entirely."
"He needs my army," Tamara insisted, "If his word is void, then so is mine. He needs allies if he wants to sit on the Iron throne."
Jaime remained silent, deeply troubled by Tamara's stubbornness. She was taking a big gamble, and didn't even seem to realise it. She was placing the Vale in the hands of a dragon, and even the gods wouldn't be able to help her if Aegon decided to turn on her. He could only hope that Tamara was as clever as she believed she was, and that she could indeed bend Aegon to her will – while making him think that she was doing him a favour in doing so.
"When do you discuss terms?"
"Over dinner."
"Dinner?" Jaime raised his eyebrows. "Very kind of him. I can't say I ever got that offer, as Lord of Casterly Rock, before I was thrown into a cell."
"That's because Cersei has control of the Lannister forces." Tamara shook her head slowly, as if Jaime wasn't already well aware of the situation. It was somewhat amusing that his wife held more power than he did. He hoped it wouldn't get to her head. "You are of no use to Aegon other than leverage."
"Then I should be glad you are here to rescue me." Jaime smirked. "My heroine."
Tamara rolled her eyes. "Please try not to piss anyone off in the meantime. I have work to do here, Jaime."
Aegon watched from the balcony as the waves crash over the rocks far below, his ringed fingers pressed in a fist to his mouth as he remained deep in thought. Behind him, Jon paced back and forth. Whilst Aegon was rather pleased with how his introduction to Tamara had gone, it appeared that his mentor was less so.
"You are aware that this girl is our enemy?" Jon demanded, causing Aegon to turn his attention away from the roiling ocean. What more would Jon have him do? He was hardly about to drag Tamara inside the castle walls and force her to swear fealty at sword point.
"Of course I am aware, Jon. Yet she also has the potential to become a valuable ally. I would prefer to rely on that potential."
"You admire her," Jon's tone was accusatory.
Aegon threw his arms up. There was no point in denying the truth. Tamara Arryn was a beautiful quandary. He found himself impressed by her demure smile and the steel behind it. Were she not married and evidently expecting her second child despite her attempts to conceal it with a flowing dress, Aegon may have considered asking for her hand to cement the alliance. Indeed, the woman was Warden of the East and Lady of the Eyrie. She was kin to two other great houses. She was a powerful woman, and therefore a desirable one.
"It would be a lie to deny it."
"She is far too pleased with this arrangement." Jon joined Aegon on the balcony. There were dark clouds on the horizon. Storm's End was notorious for its capricious weather, yet Aegon hoped that the rain would hold off.
"I would rather her being pleased than pissed off."
Jon's lip curled. "Her husband is a prisoner in our dungeon, she shouldn't be pleased at all."
"This alliance could benefit both of us, Jon." Aegon turned to glance at his Hand with some sternness. Jon had been the one to suggest an alliance with the Vale in the first place, yet now he was baulking at Tamara's lack of humility. He knew his mentor well enough to realise why – he had expected a meek woman who would bend the knee with little resistance. Perhaps Tamara would bend the knee, but she was by no means meek, and that troubled Jon.
"Watch out for her," Jon cautioned, "She might be a wife and mother, yet that doesn't make her any less a threat. Don't slip up simply because you think she's pretty."
"I've not let a pretty face distract me in the past." Aegon folded his arms over his chest, displeased by the insinuation that he was going to be thinking with his cock. "She is charming, yes, but I know what my goal is."
"Good." Jon appeared mollified. "Then I trust, after tonight, we will have a new ally in the Eyrie."
"I want you to promise me you will be careful tonight," Alek pleaded as Tamara examined herself in the mirror, turning this way and that so she could take in the dress she had been gifted. It was a deep blue lined with silver and white, fitting for the Lady of the Vale. She had instructed the servant who had brought it to thank Aegon for the generous present, yet Alek's expression had grown increasingly troubled.
"It's just a dinner, Alek," Tamara insisted, looking away from her reflection to take in his concern.
"I see how the dragon prince looks at you." Alek folded his arms over his chest, unimpressed. "Were you not carrying Jaime's child, I fear he would try and lure you to his bed."
Tamara scoffed. "A lustful look is hardly evidence that he would try anything of the sort."
She knew well how Aegon looked at her. It was clear that he found her attractive. Men had looked at her that way since she'd grown tits, and would continue to look at her that way until her beauty withered like a dying flower. It didn't bother Tamara, particularly in situations when she could utilise it. She had no intention of anything happening with Aegon, yet that wasn't to say she couldn't play coy.
"Just remember, his father was Rhaegar Targaryen, a man who abducted and raped…"
"Enough." Tamara whirled to face him, eyes blazing. "I will hear no more of that. Aegon is not his father any more than I am my mother. Your duty is to ensure Dianella's safety."
"Of course, my lady." Alek bowed his head, acknowledging he had overstepped his place. It took him only a few moments to speak again. "There is news from the North."
"What news?" Tamara's fingers froze on the silver necklace she had been attempting to clasp around her neck. Any news, especially if it was from Sansa, was more important than her current endeavours.
"Stannis Baratheon means to take Winterfell back from the Boltons."
Tamara ruminated on this, wondering what it would mean if Stannis was successful. If he did manage to take Winterfell, would he give it back to the Starks? He was known as man who followed the law to the letter, so Tamara assumed he would. Nonetheless, that didn't mean it would come for free. Stannis was less of a threat than the Boltons, and it seemed that if he could accomplish the task, Tamara's idea of gaining Aegon's support to retake the North would be unnecessary.
As long as Sansa was safe from that monster Ramsay's clutches, Tamara could deal with whatever followed. If Sansa swore fealty to Stannis, it would mean they served different Kings, and Tamara was not certain she liked that idea. Her approach tonight would have to be different, considering the North may well be liberated by the time they ventured there.
"Do you think he could do it?"
"I believe he overreaches, my lady," Alek admitted, and a moment of silence passed between them before he continued. "But – yes, it is possible."
I go to Storm's End in the hope I can find peace. That was what she had told Lord Baelish she intended. Perhaps her accomplishments would be different from her initial intention, yet the Starks were not the only family of Tamara's who had been betrayed and displaced by the events of the Red Wedding. With a smile on her lips, Tamara raised the necklace once again, firmly clasping it.
She would listen to Aegon's terms, hear what he could offer her if she accepted him as the rightful King of Westeros. Only once she was satisfied would she make her play. Jaime had told her she was playing a dangerous game – and he was right. She could only hope that she would win it.
"You look stunning, Lady Tamara."
"Thank you." She offered him a gracious smile. "The dress you sent for me fits me nicely."
"As I had hoped." Aegon was ever the gentleman, pulling out the chair so that Tamara could sit. When she had settled herself, he circled around the table to seat himself across from her. For a few minutes, there was only the tinkling and clatter of cutlery as they focused on the meal before them. Aegon set about pouring some mulled wine, but Tamara politely refused to partake. She saw his eyes flick to her stomach.
"I am glad to see that my husband is being kept in reasonable conditions." Tamara set her knife and fork down. "The dungeons are perhaps the cleanest I've seen."
"I am housing prisoners, not animals." Aegon took a sip of his wine. "Now that you have seen that I am a man of my word, perhaps we can discuss our alliance."
"But of course." Tamara leaned on the table, resting her head in her hand and observing Aegon intently. "I should hope that it will be agreeable to all parties, and in return for lending the Vale's support, I have a proposition."
"You do?" Aegon's violet eyes shone with curiosity. "Then let's hear it, Lady Tamara."
"There is no doubt in my mind that my family would welcome such a benevolent monarch with open arms, and swear fealty, especially if they see I have already done so."
Aegon looked stunned for a moment, glass raised halfway to his lips. Then he threw back his head and laughed.
"My dear Lady Tamara, I must say, you are as clever as a man."
Her smile was indulgent, but her eyes gleamed.
"I beg to differ, my lord. I am more clever than a man."
"You wish me to retake the North?" Aegon was on the right track, realising that she wanted him to assist in her family's troubles, but he had picked the wrong house in his guess.
"No." Tamara shook her head. "Word has it that Stannis Baratheon is already doing that, and he will doubtless return the Starks to power. What I want, Aegon, is for the Riverlands to be ruled by House Tully once more. House Frey seized power during the bloodiest of circumstances, and I want them to pay for that."
If anything, Aegon appeared only more impressed by her bloodlust. Yet it made sense – 'fire and blood' had always been the Targaryen words. Tamara tried to disguise her satisfaction that with each word, she endeared herself more to him.
"And you say I will find accommodating allies in your family there also?"
Tamara gave a delicate shrug. "I cannot make promises on their behalf, yet my family have been trampled under the feet of the monarchs of Westeros. I believe that elevating them would earn you the support of another great house."
"What of the Starks?" Aegon leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "If Stannis Baratheon restores them to power, then they will certainly declare for him."
He had a point, and Tamara found herself caught in a conundrum. With such close ties between the Tullys and Starks, could they truly be on opposing sides? The Tullys had declared for Robb when he had been proclaimed King in the North. Would they swear to Aegon if the Starks did not?
Tamara offered her potential ally her prettiest smile. "We can certainly deal with that problem when we come to it. After all, there is no guarantee that Stannis will succeed, nor that the Starks would feel obligated to swear any oaths to him if he did. Are the Riverlands not already worth your while for my allegiance alone?"
Her voice was light, bordering on flirtatious. She was glad that Jaime wasn't present at tonight's dinner, because he would disapprove entirely of what she was doing. Yet her playful tone disguised meaningful words, and Aegon was nodding slowly – in agreement, she hoped.
"I will help you take back the besieged Riverlands."
Tamara's smile of joy was genuine. She could save Sansa, save her family in the Riverlands from the battles and hardships they were suffering. Perhaps Aegon would prove to be a fair and just King, unlike his grandfather Aerys.
"Then I will pledge fealty to you, a man of his word as well as the one true King of Westeros."
Aegon rose to his feet and she did also, knowing what was expected of her. Her empty promise would not be good enough – she needed to swear to him here and now. Gathering her skirts in her hands, Tamara sank to her knees, with some awkwardness due to her growing bump. Bowing her head, she recited the words she had heard uttered in the Red Keep so often in the past.
"I, Tamara of the House Arryn, Lady of the Vale and Warden of East, hereby pledge my fealty to Aegon of the House Targaryen, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Realm."
"I accept your oath of fealty." Aegon reached a hand down to her, and Tamara took it. He helped her to her feet with a triumphant smile on his lips. He had gained his first powerful Westerosi ally, the first great house to swear to his cause.
Although she did believe that Aegon could be a decent man and ruler, Tamara could only hope that she had done the right thing. For if she hadn't, she had just delivered the Vale a death sentence.