There was a deep, entrenched fear within the Red Keep. An epidemic had broken out in the city. A bloody flux was spreading through the pot shops and winesinks of Flea Bottom, killing people indiscriminately.
Harry was not allowed to leave the Red Keep and no one was allowed to enter the fortress from the city. It was rather boring, being shut up in the Red Keep, but at least Tywin was stuck here with him as well.
There was little else for him to do other than take lesson after lesson, or if Tywin needed to write a letter, or do some paperwork for Casterly Rock, Harry either did some physical training, some archery or swordsmanship, or he went to the library within the Red Keep. He was steadily reading his way through every book and scroll it contained. He was determined to finish the entire library before he reached adulthood, as he knew that when he did reach his coming of age that he would be inundated with responsibilities that he'd have to undertake and he wouldn't have as much time for recreational reading.
Cersei had fallen pregnant again almost as soon as she had given birth to Myrcella. Just a bare month after his little sister had been born Cersei must have fallen pregnant again, as she was due to birth the new baby in the sixth month of the year, a month before Harry's birthday, and just two months before Myrcella's first birthday.
Robert wasn't pleased, as the bloody flux would prevent him from going hunting in the Kingswood, his usual ritual when the labour announcement was made. He was getting increasingly frustrated, and angry, as the epidemic carried on, as Cersei grew heavier with child and no one could fix it despite his yells and threats.
The smallfolk were dying in droves and they had started begging at the gates of the Red Keep for help, but they went ignored. They were just left to die, left to the mercy of the lawlessness that had taken over the city with no assistance or repercussions from the nobles, or the royal family, who were cowering in the Red Keep like cowardly rats.
Harry had been confined to the middle and lower bailey only. He was no longer allowed into the outer yard of the Red Keep because of the bloody flux and because of the smallfolk raging at the gates. He didn't like being limited in where he could go, especially as it was unlikely that Harry would catch the flux due to his magic, but he was doing it to protect Balon, his sworn shield who followed him everywhere, who could, and likely would catch the flux if he came into contact with someone infected, so Harry wasn't taking any chances with his best friend.
The Kingsguard were all worried and stressed and a lot more bad-tempered these days, because they were charged with protecting the royal family, but there was nothing they could do about a flux. It couldn't be beaten with a sword or kept at bay by a shield and they knew it. Things were made much worse when, shortly after the flux began, the gold cloaks announced that they would no longer be patrolling in the city because they didn't want to catch the disease themselves, and the lawlessness increased infinitely with their noticeable absence.
Harry had heard a lot of rumours, a lot of stories of people being murdered in their own homes if they were suspected of having the flux, of children being thrown into Blackwater Bay, of animals being burnt alive on pyres made from doors and roof beams, of people being burnt alive for the fear that they were infected.
"Harian, look over these maps." Tywin encouraged him, spreading out more than a dozen old papers in front of him, breaking him from his horror filled thoughts, likely on purpose. Harry was still trying to prevent his thoughts from showing on his face, but such strong emotions, under such stress, and Tywin could read him like a well-thumbed book.
For all of their lessons together they took over the small council chambers and made use of the large table. A good thing today as he realised the sheer number of papers he was presented with. Harry frowned as he picked up the pieces of old paper, that seemed as if they were older than the Red Keep itself, and looked them over critically. They all seemed to be records of various mines depicted on maps by regions.
"What have you noticed?" Tywin asked him expectantly after Harry had looked at every single page.
"They're mines." Harry said, looking up to see if he was correct.
Tywin nodded. "It is time that you learned of the valuable resources at your disposal."
"The Westerlands is gold, silver and gemstones. I know that much." Harry said, looking over the maps and finding the one that contained the most. He squinted at the age faded heading. The Westerlands.
"Do you know anything else?"
Harry chewed his lip. "Amber comes from the Stormlands, along with lumber. The North also has a lot of lumber. The Crownlands are mostly for grain, along with the Reach and the Vale. Oh! Marble. The Vale is known for marble quarries."
"Very good, you've taken in more than I had thought. Now is the time for you to know where these mines are, and what they provide, for when you are king."
"Are they really mine though?"
"Do you remember the meeting I invited you to join at Casterly Rock, not quite a year ago? Lords Lefford and Sarsfield were feuding over undeclared goods. Do you remember?"
"Oh, is this a similar situation? These mines are on other lands, in different regions, but because I will be the king, I have some sort of control over them?"
"The crown taxes the mines and takes a percentage of everything mined, whether it's gold, gemstones, grain or lumber." Tywin informed him. "When you become king, it'll be your job to set the taxes and to ferry resources where you feel they are needed. Though most regions use their own alliances to fix any dip in their own resources, if the Vale is in desperate need of lumber, for example, and has tried to get the provisions they need and no one is willing to help them, they can then write to the crown for help and it's for the crown to fix this need."
Harry looked at the maps and he saw that the mines were actually more numerous, and more profitable, than he had first believed. He knew a lot of resources from tales and stories, like the famous Arbor wines, the hot peppers and spices from Dorne, which was also known for lemons and oranges and olives.
"What seems to be the most scarce on these maps, Harian?"
Harry frowned as he considered it deeply. "Honey and salt." He said after a pause of a few minutes, while he studied all the old pages and actually considered what he was being asked.
Tywin nodded at him. "There is a reason that honey is so expensive in Westeros. The bees that make it only favour a few places and most of them are in the Reach. As for salt, Westeros has one salt mine. Just the one, in saltpans."
"That could be a problem." Harry said, frowning. "How much gold is in the Westerlands, Grandfather?"
Tywin smirked. "More than we could mine in a thousand lifetimes, Harian. In gold, silver, copper. We mine quartz, azurite and malachite, all of which are very valuable in the Free Cities of Essos. We find turquoise, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, garnets and amethysts in the mines which are famed across Westeros and Essos. The Westerlands are incredibly rich and valuable and it is why I will not have any other than a Lannister of my blood ruling over Casterly Rock as they will also have control over all of these mines and resources."
Harry frowned at that, as Tywin only had two sons, Tyrion whom he hated, and Jaime, who was not only a Kingsguard knight but also hated Harry and wanted him dead. He considered that perhaps Tywin had also included his nephews in that list, as they were technically still of his blood being the sons of his brothers. Joffrey was definitely struck off though, despite being a grandson. There was no way that Tywin would leave Casterly Rock to him.
"Look closer at these mines, look at what they offer their regions and what they'll offer to you when you are king. Memorise where the gold and silver mines are, where the grain comes from, where your food comes from. See where the cattle ranches are, where horses are bred and reared and remember them well, Harian, once you are king."
Harry did as he had been asked. Noticing that there were silver mines in the North that he hadn't known about, along with coal mines and stone quarries. He noticed immediately that most of the fruit and grain was grown in the Reach…he'd known of that, but not to this extent.
"Which region do you deem to be the poorest?"
"In what terms, Grandfather?" Harry asked. "Wealth or resources?"
Tywin smirked at him again. "We are speaking of resources here today, Harian."
Harry's eyes were drawn to the Iron Islands, which only mined tin, iron and lead and sometimes traded in fish. It seemed too obvious to name that region and he looked at the old maps again, closer this time, considering what he'd been told, what he could see for himself, and what the purpose of this lesson might actually be.
Tywin remained silent, watching him closely, but saying nothing, just giving him the time he needed to work everything out for himself without rushing him or merely giving him the answer.
"The Stormlands." He said softly, after several minutes of silent perusal, looking at them on the faded page he was holding. "Wood, a bit of game that isn't in father's private hunting grounds, which won't be much. Fish from the coasts, if anyone could actually fish such violent waters, and amber from the Red Mountains."
"I am surprised that you didn't immediately name the Iron Islands." Tywin told him, but he looked pleased.
Harry looked back to the page depicting the Iron Islands. "They don't trade like the rest of Westeros, Grandfather. They pay the iron price for everything and rarely trade. They're all backwards."
"Now, Harian, what have I taught you about offering offence?"
Harry sighed at the chastisement. "I wouldn't say as such to their faces." Harry said yet again, as they had had this argument before.
"No, I am at least glad to hear that. But you are correct that the Stormlands are the poorest region in terms of resources. The soil is thin, poor and rocky, there are few harbours on their coasts, the waters are wild and the storms they are named for ferocious."
Harry frowned harder. "They would need to trade with the other regions."
"Being your father's ancestral seat, they trade predominantly with the Crownlands." Tywin informed him, before handing Harry another map. "These are the main trade routes of Westeros. Memorise them."
Harry did as he was told, noticing that most of the main trade routes followed the main roads of Westeros. He'd already memorised those, so the additional trade routes wouldn't be too taxing for him to learn.
"What are the current tax rates?" Harry asked curiously.
"Sixty per cent of everything mined goes to the crown."
Harry gasped at how high that was. "Why is it set so high?!"
"Because your father has emptied the treasury, Harian, and the crown needs to generate some form of income because of it. It does so through taxes on the other regions and the other great houses."
Harry realised then that this was also a lesson in responsibility. The crown would bugger the other regions by taking more than half of everything mined just to generate revenue for the treasury. It was a double edged sword…on the one hand, the crown needed those resources, or the equivalent gold they were worth, but on the other, taxing the other regions so highly was not going to be a popular move, nor was it sustainable. As soon as the other regions started struggling, or merely got fed up with paying such a high, potentially crippling tax, they would stop meeting the sixty per cent tariffs, and that could easily cause a civil war.
"Can you see the issue with this move, Harian?"
Harry broke from his thoughts and looked up at Tywin. He nodded. "It's not sustainable. How long have the tariffs been set at sixty per cent, Grandfather? Do you know?"
"The Westerlands have to pay this tax as well." Tywin told him. "I believe we were given a short reprieve of the sixty per cent tax because my daughter is the queen, but it has been three years, Harian."
"So the other regions have been paying this tax for longer." He mused, almost to himself. He shook his head. "It's too long. It'll cause a civil war if a region can't pay that tax, or just doesn't want to keep paying it, and the crown still demands it."
"Thus the reason for this lesson." Tywin told him.
Harry sighed and wondered how much longer the individual regions would carry on paying such a high tax on their resources…resources that they needed for themselves.
"The Stormlands wouldn't turn against their liege lord, for all that it is Renly who is named lord of Storm's End, I believe that it is my father whom they still follow. The North would never turn against the crown, not with father and Lord Stark being foster brothers. The Vale as well, I feel they would never turn against father with Lord Jon still being the hand of the king. I believe that, if anyone were to turn, it would be the Reach that would be the issue."
"Do you not think the Tyrells are loyal?"
"I think, at the last estimate, that the Reach had some twelve million inhabitants, Grandfather." Harry said. "The Tyrells might be loyal, but if they have to suffer a sixty per cent tax on their goods for years at a time, for a region that only has a population of one and a half million people, their own people are going to start suffering and that could add to pressures. I don't believe it would be a light decision made, but I feel that it would be out of necessity for their own people to survive."
"So you understand why this high tax must only be used for emergencies and for short periods of time?"
Harry nodded and sighed, wondering if he was going to see a civil war in his lifetime. He hoped not. Yet the Seven Kingdoms were going to have to endure this sixty per cent tax until he took the throne and that could be decades away. He didn't think it would be, he was expecting his father to perhaps abdicate the throne in his favour, maybe when he was twenty years old, which wasn't for another eleven years. The regions of Westeros had already suffered through several years of this tax, they wouldn't put up with it for another eleven years. They wouldn't be able to.
Harry would need to maybe broach this issue with his father, if he could just coax him to lower it to fifty per cent, or maybe down to forty, it would help. The issue was, however, that Robert Baratheon liked tourneys and he liked offering extravagant purses as a prize. With the treasury always empty, and what little going in always going out again just as quick, lowering that tax would put additional pressures on the Crownlands, and on the capital in particular. Harry knew that that would be an unpopular choice to Robert. He was a man who didn't like thinking about the long term and he would likely immediately brush Harry and his worries aside and tell him not to worry about 'counting coppers' as he put it. Robert didn't care about the finances of the realm, that was all left to his beleaguered small council, but it would mean that Harry faced an uphill struggle when he took the throne himself and inherited the empty treasury.
Perhaps it was time that he looked into financial avenues of his own, in preparation for his coronation. He was definitely going to need his own source of gold, and perhaps some money saving tips and little tricks to help him in those first few years when he knew that the treasury would be very poor and his rule would be a constant struggle.
Harry inhaled, pushed all of those thoughts aside for now and he went back to studying the mines and the resources of the realm, but he kept half a mind on how to broach this with his father in a way that wouldn't immediately be waved off. He had to try and lower that tax before he took the throne himself…before a civil war broke out. As soon as one region rose up first, and it would only need the one, the others would collapse and join in. It would be an all-out war and he couldn't allow that to happen.
He did wonder who had coached his father to set the taxes that high in the first place, though…oily, smarmy Petyr Baelish or the cunning actor that was Varys. He would find out who it had been and he would watch them even more closely. Whoever had set the taxes that high was no true friend to the crown.
- X
The epidemic got worse over the coming weeks and news had arrived, via raven, that the flux had spread further into the Crownlands. The epidemic was turning into a pandemic.
The Great Sept had been broken into, as the smallfolk rushed to the altar of the Mother for healing and protection, but there were those who had taken advantage and several valuable relics had gone missing. Stolen to be melted down no doubt.
The gold cloaks refused to go out into the city to patrol. Even under threat of dismissal they still refused to do their jobs and they huddled in their city barracks, or within the Red Keep, and they did nothing as the city was almost destroyed outside the safety of the Red Keep.
As June was almost at an end, and July approached, as Harry was getting ready for his ninth birthday, the labour announcement came via a servant. Cersei was giving birth to her fourth child, her third by Jaime, Harry suspected.
Robert had blustered and seemed to be at a loss for what to do. He didn't want to be in the Red Keep when that baby, what he thought was his fourth child, was born. So he called a small hunting group together and they snuck out of the Red Keep via a postern door like thieves. Anything to get out of being there when his next child was born into the world. He would even risk getting a flux if it meant that he wasn't here when that babe was born.
Harry was left in the safety of the Red Keep. Balon was with him at all times, and so was Ser Preston, who seemed rather relieved to have been given such a duty in the safety of the Red Keep. Jaime had also opted to remain behind…likely to see his new child being born. Tywin was here still, so Harry didn't feel quite so threatened, even as he managed to spend some time with a tiny Myrcella. She was only ten months old, her first birthday not until the last week of August.
Harry had ignored the nursemaid who had tried to keep Myrcella away from him, likely on his mother's orders as she took to her birthing bed, but Ser Preston had threatened the poor girl with a backhand if she didn't do as Prince Harian asked. So he had carried his little sister off to the godswood. No one would look for him there. No one ever thought to check the godswood, even though it was his favourite place to go for peace and quiet.
"Come on, Myrcella. You can do it!" Harry encouraged as he held those tiny hands in his own and helped her to stay on her feet.
She was dressed beautifully, like a little doll, in white trimmed with gold. It was rather a 'pure' outfit and Harry was ruining it as he encouraged her to walk and crawl over the grass of the godswood. Her soft, fabric slippers were already grass-stained and filthy, as was the hem of the dress, which was longer than her chubby legs.
She was giggling happily, reaching out for his face, as Joy had done back at Casterly Rock, and Harry's heart swelled with love for her. He would protect her, always.
He helped Myrcella to toddle around the open space by the heart tree, listening to her laugh and babble. Her golden hair was coming in curly, just as Joffrey's had, but it currently didn't even reach her shoulders. It was being kept out of the way by ornate, jewelled clips to either side of her head while it grew in.
"My Prince, it is time for the noon meal." Ser Preston told him, after a look at the position of the sun. "Princess Myrcella might have need of her wet nurse."
Harry nodded his understanding. "Have the wet nurse come to the kitchens, Ser. I would eat there today."
Harry picked up Myrcella and carried her from the godswood and to the kitchens. He wasn't supposed to go into the outer yard, and Ser Preston looked nervous, and even Balon was more alert beside him.
"Remember not to go near the gates, Harry." His sworn shield warned him seriously.
Harry inhaled. "Something needs to be done about the flux. It's spreading and lawlessness has descended upon the city. The gold cloaks should do their job."
"They are afraid of catching the flux as well, my Prince." Ser Preston explained as if Harry just didn't understand the situation, but he did.
"They are paid to keep the peace, Ser, regardless of the situation outside the gates, they are supposed to keep order. We need them to end this epidemic, but they refuse to help."
"You would force them out into the city?" Balon asked.
"No." Harry said firmly. "I would give them the option of it, but make it so the option of remaining and doing nothing is unavailable to them."
"What do you mean?" Balon asked curiously.
"I wouldn't pay them." Harry said simply. "They're paid to keep the peace, if they refuse to do their jobs, I wouldn't pay them. It would be their choice then if they chose to stay in safety and do nothing."
"That isn't really a choice though." Ser Preston pointed out.
"Exactly my point, Ser. They still have the choice, and it'll be on their own backs, but I would make it impossible for them to choose anything other than going out into the city to do their jobs. I'd have had this epidemic over and dealt with within the first moon turn." He boasted as they made it to the outer yard, where the screaming and shouting was most terrible, and loud. Enough so that Myrcella started whimpering as her emerald green eyes, a perfect replica to Harry's own, started filling with tears.
"Everything is well, sweet Myrcella. I have you." He promised her. "I will protect you and keep you safe."
The kitchen was bustling, and loud enough that the shouting couldn't be heard, and Myrcella calmed. The kitchen staff gasped to see them and rushed to provide him with something to eat, even as they cooed over Myrcella.
His sister's wet nurse came to the kitchens and fed the baby as Harry watched curiously, even as he ate himself.
"Should I keep her, my Prince?" The wet nurse asked nervously.
Harry shook his head and he held his arms out for his baby sister and reluctantly the woman handed her over under the stern gaze of Ser Preston. Harry finished eating one handed, as his sister was tucked into the other arm, and when he was done he then took Myrcella to a quiet solar, the one in the Red Keep, not the one in the holdfast. He didn't want to be that close to Cersei or Jaime.
He sat Myrcella on the floor and sat behind her, playing with some of her soft dolls.
Harry couldn't wait to see his mother's face when she realised that he had Myrcella while she was stuck in her birthing bed and didn't have the energy to come and 'save' her precious daughter.
- X
Jaime watched the door to Cersei's bedchamber nervously. He was very aware of how dangerous childbirth was. Cersei had had four children now, for as much as they hated including Harian in anything, Cersei had still birthed him.
The screeches and the pained grunts had trailed off to eerie silence and he was worried for his sister. His heart was pounding, even as he tried to pace the corridor to work off some of the nervous tension he felt. Gods, he just wanted some word that his twin had survived the birth and was well. Was that so much to ask for?
What seemed like an eternity later the door finally opened and a bloodied woman emerged from Cersei's bedchamber.
"Her Grace has been delivered of a son." The woman announced.
Jaime just barely restrained himself from throttling the woman. "How are they both?" He asked as calmly as he could manage while so full of worry and tension.
"Mother and babe are perfectly well, Ser." The woman told him, before moving off down the corridor, likely to announce the birth to the small council stewards, who would make sure that everyone knew of the birth.
Jaime went to the door and anxiously pushed it open and entered the room.
"Jaime." Cersei greeted him tiredly, tucked up in her bed with fresh sheets. It could have been any normal day, but she was much too pale, her beautiful golden hair in disarray, sweat still beading on her forehead, her cheeks still flushed a cherry-red, like a fever, and she had a tiny wrapped bundle laying on her bare breast.
Grand Maester Pycelle, and Maester Mellciter, both bowed and left the room, having done their duty by delivering the babe.
"Hold him." Cersei encouraged as they were left alone for a moment.
Jaime carefully picked up his son and cradled the babe. Cersei would only ever allow him to touch his own children when they were alone and in private, for fear that someone would notice how much the babes looked like him.
"What have you named him?" He asked, looking at the squashed, swollen, red face of the tiny babe who was his own son.
"Tommen." Cersei told him, sounding so tired and drained, and completely unlike herself. "He will need a wet nurse soon."
"I will call her."
"Have her bring Myrcella to me as well."
Jaime nodded, and he passed the babe back to Cersei a moment, while he went to find a servant to find the royal wet nurse.
The woman, when she came, came alone.
"Where is Princess Myrcella?" Jaime demanded of her.
"Apologies, Ser, but the Princess is with Prince Harian and he refuses to hand her over to me." The woman explained.
Cersei jerked upright in the bed, smothering a pained noise. "He's going to hurt her! Jaime, he'll kill her!"
Jaime took one look at his sister's panicked face and thought that perhaps this was the revenge the boy had planned all along. They had been distracted, their minds on the birth of the newest babe, and they had thought Myrcella safe with her nursemaid and the wet nurse. It was probably already too late and Harian had likely already had an 'accident' with Myrcella.
"I'll go and find them." He said wearily.
He wondered if Robert would even care. Harian could do nothing wrong in Robert's eyes and he would brush this off as an accident, but they knew better. They knew that this would be revenge for the attempts on his life.
He hunted all over the Red Keep, looking in the usual haunts that Harian kept to, before finding him in the outside solar.
"What do you want?" Harian demanded, holding Myrcella in his lap. Jaime was at least relieved to see that she was unharmed. She was sleeping peacefully in his arms, though she was filthy. Cersei wouldn't be pleased.
"Your mother has had the babe."
"A boy. Tommen." The boy nodded. "A steward told us."
"Your mother wishes for Myrcella to be with her. The wet nurse is waiting."
"She's sleeping." The boy said, speaking as if he thought that Jaime was stupid. "How can she feed if she is sleeping? Go away."
"Hand her to me!" Jaime demanded angrily, taking a step forward, looming threateningly over the accursed boy who was sitting on the floor.
"She's my sister and she's staying here with me. Are you going to wrestle me for her?"
"Ser Jaime." Preston spoke up. "I have been charged with Prince Harian's protection. I won't allow you to take the Princess Myrcella from him and risk harming him."
"And what of Princess Myrcella, Ser?!" Jaime asked. "Who will protect her?"
"Protect her from what?" The boy asked silkily, those green eyes bright with knowledge, that small mouth smirking up at him. Jaime longed to smack it off but he knew if he started hitting Harian now then he would never stop. He would beat the boy to death for all the worry and pain he had caused Cersei over the years.
"I have charge of Prince Harian, our crown prince." Preston said firmly, stressing the last as if Jaime had somehow been able to forget it. "He is the only one who matters."
Jaime's teeth clenched together in anger and disgust before he could prevent the telling action.
"I am not leaving the princess here with him. It would be easier if you handed her over." He growled.
"I've already told you I'm not handing her to you. She is staying with me. There is much more I want to do with her today."
That challenging smirk was back and Jaime stepped forward again, only to be immediately blocked by his sworn brother.
"Do not obstruct me, Preston." He warned seriously. "I will be taking Myrcella."
"I will not allow you to approach Prince Harian." Preston said back, just as warningly.
"What is going on here?"
Jaime took a breath and eased down as his father entered the solar.
"Jaime. I asked a question."
"Cersei wishes for Myrcella so that the wet nurse can feed both her and the new babe, Tommen. The boy refuses to hand her over."
"She's sleeping." Harian said stubbornly. "I'm keeping her."
"Go back to Cersei, Jaime." His father told him. "Harian will keep Myrcella."
"He can't look after, nor feed, an infant!" Jaime argued, unduly angry that his own father had allowed Harian, a mere eight year old boy, to keep Myrcella as if she were a pet and not a babe.
"This isn't up for discussion."
Jaime trembled with rage and he wished that he could kill the boy. One sword thrust is all it would take. The boy was too young to fight back or stop him, he could just end him right here and now so that he couldn't plague them in future. Plague…his mind ticked over and he wondered if he could somehow get the boy out of the Red Keep and into the city. That would surely be his end if he caught the bloody flux. He was not quite nine and the flux was taking indiscriminately. Old crones, young boys, pregnant women, babes at the breast, and healthy working men. It would surely mean his end if he caught it.
"Leave Harian and Myrcella be, Jaime."
Jaime said nothing more and he refused to show how betrayed he felt at being passed over for that boy by his own father.
He instead turned on his heel sharply and he went back to Maegor's Holdfast, to Cersei, and he saw her panic as he came back empty-handed.
"Myrcella is perfectly well, Cersei." He assured her before her worry could ease her into an early grave. "The boy refused to hand her to me."
"Why didn't you just take her from him?!" Cersei demanded of him in a low hiss.
"Preston Greenfield wouldn't allow me to even approach them. Then father showed up and threw me out. I couldn't wrest her from his arms under father's watching eyes, Cersei."
"He'll hurt her, Jaime! You have to get her back, please!"
Jaime took a breath. "I don't believe that our father would allow him to harm her, Cersei. He'd brought a stack of books with him, so he was planning to stay. Harian can't harm her under his nose."
"He will. I know he will!"
"Rest now, Cersei." Jaime soothed. "I will keep a watch out and when Myrcella needs her wet nurse I will be nearby to take her again. The boy won't hurt her under our father's gaze."
Cersei still looked troubled. Jaime didn't blame her for that, as he was worried himself. The look in those eyes all but promised that he was going to try to hurt her in some way.
He breathed deeply and tried to ignore his hammering heart. Surely their father wouldn't allow Harian to kill his own granddaughter in front of him. He was too strict, even with Harian he was strict, and he had given the boy the lash of the whip before now as, curiously, Harian refused to have a whipping boy and instead chose to take the lashes himself.
He calmed. No, there was no way that their father would watch as Harian harmed Myrcella in any way. The danger would be if the boy carried her off, away from that stern gaze. He would be ready. He would intercept them and take Myrcella himself, and then he would find a way to give the boy the bloody flux and see an end to him once and for all.
- X
Robert came back from his hunting trip a week later, in much better spirits, to meet his new son, Tommen. He'd brought two deer and a boar with him and that night they'd eaten well.
Harry's ninth birthday was approaching, just a few weeks away now, not that he could do anything, or have a tourney as he usually would, not with the flux plaguing the city and preventing anyone from leaving or entering the Red Keep.
He was just coming out of the library, where he usually stayed alone as Balon was having his arms lesson in the courtyard with the Kingsguard, when he was picked up and thrown over a shoulder.
He didn't wait this time, as he started shouting and screaming for help, kicking out at the person carrying him at a rather fast run through the Red Keep. From the speed, Harry assumed that his attacker had known that he would immediately shout for help and wanted to get him as far away as possible before anyone came.
The man was hooded and cloaked, unarmoured and seemingly without a weapon. He didn't speak a word, which meant that Harry would likely recognise the voice…so this was someone that he knew. He wished he knew how to perform legilimency, that he was good enough to perform it. His life would be so much easier if he knew what the people around him were thinking before they acted like this so that he could work to prevent it from happening.
He was taken through a postern door and Harry struggled harder as he realised where he was and where they were going. Out into the city.
The door to the city was already unlocked, a planned route then, and in very quick succession the door was opened and then Harry was thrown unceremoniously through it. The door was slammed shut and Harry heard the thick, heavy bolt slide into place as he landed on the stone floor, scraping his one elbow and the forearm of his other arm. Harry rolled his eyes. This was for nought as his magic wouldn't allow him to catch this illness if he didn't want it to…not that anyone knew that but him, of course. The danger would be if he ran into any lawless vagrants or someone with a grievance against his family, or just rich people in general.
He wondered if he could sort this flux out himself, though, as he stood and dusted himself off before he moved out further into the city to see what it was like out here for himself.
It was a hellscape. That was all Harry could describe it as. The mess was unbelievable, there was broken pottery everywhere, doors had been kicked in, unknown stains on the floors and walls, and everywhere…everywhere there were bodies in various stages of decay and decomposition. The smell was horrendous.
Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as he saw babies and children mixed in with the dead. It looked like the flux had calmed, but Harry considered that perhaps there just weren't any people left for it to claim. The city was certainly quieter and they had had less and less screaming at the gates recently.
He put a protective 'bubble' around himself, mostly so that he didn't have to smell anything, and he took a walk down to Flea Bottom, where the bloody flux had started by all accounts.
"Please help. Please. Please help us!" A weak voice begged. "The Seven save us. Water. Just a drop of water, please."
He turned and he saw through a broken door a poor woman, clearly sick, laying in the room beyond.
He went to her and he knelt on the floor by her head, he held her hand, passing some magic into her body. She was fevered and weak from dehydration. The bloody flux, as it was called here, seemed very much like dysentery.
"Wait here a moment, my lady." He told her softly and he went to search her home for some water and a cup.
He helped her to drink the stale cup of water, as his magic routed the bacteria from her body. He was dismayed to find that it had 'eaten' through the intestinal wall and had infected other major organs. He couldn't save this woman, but he could make sure that the disease ended with her and didn't pass to anyone else.
He stayed with her, holding her hand as she died, and he turned to head to the next person who called out to him. He was safe in his bubble and he was trying to break the spread of the disease by putting up blocks, like a breaker wall for fires. He helped two more women, a man, and several children. He was in tears himself as he watched the light go out of a three year old's eyes as they breathed their last breath, the heaving chest stilling under his very touch.
He wiped his face on his sleeve and stood, moving on to the next house, to the next person.
"Prince Harian! You should not be out here!"
It was a man this time, looking to be rather healthy. He was a baker that Harry knew quite well.
"I could not ignore the plight of the city any longer. How are you?"
"I have been well, my Prince. I've kept my family inside and barricaded the doors so no lawless men could get in. I only venture out for food and water, and only when we are desperate. Do you not have a guard with you?" The baker asked, looking around as if he could see anyone else.
Harry shook his head. "Someone picked me up and threw me from the Red Keep. I decided to explore the city a little."
"The flux takes the young the most, my Prince. I urge you to head back to the keep and find whoever threw you out here like this!"
Harry shook his head and accompanied the man to a well. It was being guarded by men armed with kitchen and butcher knives, and cudgels.
"Prince Harian!" One man exclaimed in shock. "Forgive me for saying but you should not be out here!"
"Lom, you shouldn't speak to him like that!" Another man said nervously.
"It's fine." Harry waved away. "Are you preventing people from using this well?" He asked curiously.
"No!" Several men all denied immediately.
"We're trying to keep it clean, my Prince." The baker explained cautiously, patiently. "It is the only well in the city that hasn't been fouled."
Another man nodded. "The others are choked full of bodies. Those that had the flux and others tried to get rid of them."
Harry was horrified, even as he watched as a bucket was lowered down, then pulled back up so that the baker could have clean water for himself and his family.
"Has the flux slowed at all?"
"Aye." The men told him. "It has slowed in the last few days, e'er since the statue of the Mother was put back in the Great Sept."
"It was taken?" Harry asked.
"Aye." Another told him. "The Sept was broken into early on in the flux, most just wanted to pray, others had other ideas and I spit on them! We found the statue in a wagon, under empty sacks. We put the Mother back in her rightful place and the sickness has eased off. Our gracious Mother has seen fit to lift the curse on the city at last."
Harry nodded and looked around. "How many people are left?"
"More than you'd think to look at it." The baker insisted. "They all hide in their homes, those of us that hid from the start haven't been touched."
"We should burn the dead." Harry said seriously. "The bodies need to be removed from the wells and those who were sick need to be burnt."
"The gold cloaks don't help us!" The man, Lom, told him. "They hide in their barracks, behind barricaded doors. They have their own food supplies, their own wells, they don't need ta come out here with us simple folk!"
"This has gone on for too long now." Harry said. "The gold cloaks need to be doing this work, burning the dead, protecting the wells. They are paid to do so."
Harry, who had some coins in the pocket of his breeches, took out several silver coins and handed them to the men.
"You have my gratitude for doing all you could to protect the city. I will head back to the Red Keep now and I promise you that the gold cloaks will take over from now."
"My Prince, do you need an escort?" The baker asked him.
Harry shook his head. "No, thank you, I will be safe."
Harry waved goodbye and he made his way back up Aegon's Hill and to the Red Keep, where the gold cloaks were suspiciously back on duty after being absent when he'd been thrown out here.
"Let me in." He ordered them furiously. They looked horrified at the very suggestion and they refused to open the gates for him.
"His Grace, the king, has said that no one is to come into the Red Keep from the city."
"Are you just going to leave me out here?" Harry demanded, looking at them challengingly.
The gold cloaks didn't know what to do and they argued between themselves about letting him in or leaving him in the city, and in the end, they went and found anyone they could to tell them what to do.
"Harian, I was looking for you. How did you get out into the city?" Tywin Lannister demanded angrily, those green-gold eyes scanned him from head to toe and Harry saw them lingering on his scraped elbow and blooded forearm.
Tywin had four members of the Kingsguard at his back, Ser Barristan, Ser Arys, Ser Mandon, and Ser Meryn. Balon was there too, looking exceptionally worried and panicked.
"Someone picked me up and threw me out of the postern door." Harry said.
"When was this?"
Harry shrugged a bony shoulder. "An hour ago maybe. No one was on the gate, so I went looking through the city."
"You know there is a flux out there, why did you go looking through the city?!" Balon demanded worriedly.
"The flux is over. The city is almost a ruin. It needs to be put back to rights. There is only one well that hasn't been fouled and that is only because there are men guarding it day and night."
"Did they harm you, my Prince?" Ser Arys fretted.
"No." Harry said, offended on behalf of the citizens.
"Why is this gate not open yet?" Tywin demanded of the motionless gold cloaks.
"His Grace ordered us not to open the gate, Lord Tywin."
"The crown prince is out in the city, alone and undefended, which do you think His Grace will care about more?" Tywin said cuttingly.
The gold cloaks grumbled a little, but they rushed to open the gates and Harry was let back into the Red Keep.
Tywin hurried him away and got him into a bath straight away and the clothes he'd been wearing were taken away to be burnt.
"Tell me what happened." Tywin asked him once they were alone in the bathing chamber, just them two and Balon.
"I've said, Grandfather. I was coming out of the library and someone grabbed me and threw me over their shoulder. They threw me out of the postern door and then locked it behind me."
"Did you see his face?"
"No. He was wearing a cloak and a hood, he refused to speak as well, which makes me think it would be someone I recognised by voice." Harry said pointedly.
"You were heard shouting for help and it triggered a search for you."
Harry said nothing as he languorously washed himself.
"Was it Jaime?" Tywin asked after watching him for a minute.
Harry nodded. "I can't prove it, but I'm sure it was him. Why else would he conceal himself and not speak to me? He threw me out in the city hoping I would catch the flux and die. Or maybe that I would meet my end by one of the lawless men roaming the city."
"Is the flux really passed?" Balon asked him.
Harry nodded. "Now is the time to send out the gold cloaks. The dead need to be burnt, the wells and the river need to be unclogged, and the damage fixed. There might be those still sick in the city, but the danger of the flux has passed. A lot of people are dead and they are just strewn through the streets."
"Did you touch any of them?" Tywin asked.
Harry nodded. "You can't get through the city without climbing bodies, Grandfather. They're everywhere, especially in the smaller alleyways. I held a woman's hand as she breathed her last, I…I held a babe as he breathed his last, and I found a group of men guarding the last unfouled well."
"If you are right in this assessment, then I will force the gold cloaks to go and regain the city." Tywin told him. "Now, your father is looking for you after being told of your disappearance. Have you scrubbed yourself properly?"
Harry nodded, even as he had a last dip in the water, and then climbed out, where Balon was waiting with clean linen so that he could dry himself.
He was taken straight to his father, who was in a solar, holding Tommen. His mother bleached pale to see him and she clutched Myrcella tighter. Jaime made a grab for Joffrey to pick him up out of the way, but Harry got there first and he hugged Joffrey, for perhaps the first time in their lives, and he squeezed the spoilt five year old, and then coughed in his face when his brother turned to look at him in confusion.
"Get off!" Joffrey demanded immediately upon seeing who it was who had clutched at him, squirming away from him and Harry let him go with a grin and went straight to his father and kissed him, then the new baby. His mother looked like she might draw a sword and kill him dead.
"Harian, where were you?" His father asked. "The entire keep has been looking for you and I have heard that you were calling for help."
"Someone threw me out into the city." He said, even as he indicated to his father that he wanted to hold the baby.
"He's not clean!" Cersei screeched.
"He's had a bath." Tywin declared as he moved to lay a hand on Harry's damp head.
"What do you mean someone threw you out into the city?" His father demanded even as he thrust the babe, none too gently, at him.
Harry looked up from the newborn in his arms. "Just that, Father. Someone picked me up as I left the library and threw me out of a postern door. I went to look around a little and I think the flux is slowing down."
"Did anyone touch you?"
"No." Harry insisted and he watched with sadistic pleasure as Jaime and Cersei relaxed a little. "I held a dying woman's hand though as she breathed her last breath. I helped a man and several children too, as they suffered or died in my arms."
He watched the tension bleed right back into them both and he all but saw the twitch as Cersei wanted to rip the newborn baby from him.
"Father, you need to get the gold cloaks to do their jobs. You're paying them to do nothing. The city is choked with bodies and there is only one well that isn't fouled by bodies. The wells and river need to be unblocked and the dead need to be burnt and the city set back to rights."
"I'll see what I can do." His father told him.
"If they refuse, tell them they aren't getting paid." Harry told him. "Tell them to do their jobs because they aren't getting paid to sit on their arses and do nothing while the city is turned into a ruin."
"That's a good idea. I'll do just that." Robert told him, and Harry smiled.
He kissed the new baby, Tommen, and then sat down next to his father and held him. He rather enjoyed watching Cersei and Jaime all but have heart attacks as he continually kissed and breathed on the baby.
Tommen woke up with a cry and Jaime immediately stepped forward to snatch him away and hand him to a wet nurse for a feed. Harry was amused because he knew that he didn't have the flux and he couldn't pass it on, but they didn't know that, and it amused him knowing that they had tried to kill him by throwing him out into the city, hoping that he would catch it, and now here he was kissing and coughing all over Joffrey and Tommen. He would get Myrcella too before he went to bed. The worry they would feel for the next few days, as they watched for symptoms of the flux in the three babes, was the punishment they deserved for trying to kill him in this manner.
He got the chance to get Myrcella when Tywin sent him to his room to read for a while before bed and he nodded and kissed his father and grandfather, then went right to his mother and Myrcella. She tried to keep the baby away from him, but Harry caught her arm in a grip that was deceptively strong for his size and he kissed the baby, then coughed straight into Cersei's face.
"Night!" He called out happily and allowed Balon to take him to bed.
"Are you truly unharmed?" Balon asked him.
Harry nodded as they moved to his room. "I am, Balon. No one hurt me, they only ever asked if I wanted help, or an escort back to the keep. They're good people in the city."
"Do you feel sick? You have coughed a few times."
Harry chuckled. "No. I was forcing the coughs because I believe it was Jaime who threw me into the city. Let them worry over my brothers and sister for a few days as punishment for trying to give me the flux. I am perfectly healthy. The flux in the city has passed. It has left devastation in its wake, but it won't kill any more people. Not if the bodies are burnt and the city cleaned up."
As long as his breakers held in the city, that was, and considering he was still alive, his magic would hold. Those breakers would prevent anyone else from getting the flux, even if they did come into contact with infected people, or even infected bodies.
"I was so worried. I was training with the Kingsguard when we heard a faint shout for help…I knew straight away that it was you. We ran as fast as we could to the middle bailey, but you were gone. We searched everywhere, but we couldn't find you. Why didn't you stay by the gate? We could have let you right back in."
Harry smiled then. "You know me and my curiosity, I wanted to see the state of the city and the citizens."
"You and your curiosity is going to get you killed!" Balon said sternly.
Harry giggled and got a fond smile for it.
"Do as your grandfather has suggested and read for a while, Harian." Balon suggested. "I need a rest to calm my heart, and my worry."
Harry nodded and got the book he was currently reading off of his bedside table. He sat in his chair, by the window, and he started reading, even as Balon took out his sword and started practising his form. It was his way of relieving stress, Harry knew.
It was peaceful, normal, and Harry read his current book, absorbing the knowledge. A few more years and people wouldn't be able to pick him up so easily or hold him so easily while he fought back. He would be able to fight his way free of such things. He took a breath and settled himself…a few more years is all he needed. A few more years and he would be better positioned to protect himself. To fight back. If Cersei and Jaime actually did have a modicum of intelligence between them then they wouldn't allow him to reach that stage. Harry would remain on guard, always, they wouldn't get to take him out.
- X
His ninth name day was quiet and rather reserved, as Harry had wanted it. It didn't feel right to celebrate anything, to have feasts and games when the countless dead had been burnt on pyres outside of the city for eight days in a row. Harry could still smell the sickly, irritating scent of burning fat and hair on the air. How could he celebrate when the skies were still thick and black with pungent smoke? When he could see the pyres and the flames from the window in his bedchamber and from the courtyard? This was no time to be celebrating, his birthday or not.
A week ago, after being ordered to regain peace and put the city to rights, the gold cloaks had tried to put up a fight, terrified to go out into the city, at least they had at first. Once they had heard that their pay would be stopped if they didn't go out into the city, they had tried to riot, but that had gotten them nothing but derision and the bellows of their displeased king. A week of no pay, of not having wine, food, or any other comforts besides their barrack beds, the gold cloaks had changed their minds and had begrudgingly gone out into the city to do as they were ordered to do.
It was the gold cloaks who took the bodies from the streets, from the wells, from the river and built pyres for them to be burnt. It was the gold cloaks who were washing the blood from the stone and patrolling the streets to regain order from those who had taken advantage of the sickness to kill and steal what they wanted. It was the gold cloaks who fixed up the Great Sept and them who had taken over guarding the one clean well, but the people praised their king for coming to their aid. They praised their king for getting rid of the foul sickness and sparing those who were left.
It was too late in Harry's opinion. Too many people had died from something that he could have controlled in a week. It had been months. Thousands of people had died. Harry's heart ached for the loss and the destruction.
That was why he didn't want to celebrate his name day, he'd said as much to the adults around him, but his father had ignored his wishes and there was a mini tourney put on for him within the Red Keep. It was the Kingsguard against one another in the joust, a small archery contest which he had won even though his heart hadn't been in it and a feast to end it. Harry hadn't laughed much, he hadn't had much fun and he hadn't eaten much. He was all too aware that the people of the city were suffering horrendous losses and were trying to scrabble together all they could just to survive. Entire families had been wiped out. Children had lost siblings, or both of their parents and had been orphaned and tossed out onto the streets. Adults had lost children, spouses, siblings, parents. Not a single person in King's Landing had escaped the flux without some sort of loss and Harry felt that all too keenly.
"You are thinking of your duty too much." Tywin told him and Harry looked up with desolate eyes. "You are not the king yet, Harian."
"I keep thinking of all of those people who are dead."
"It isn't your duty to think of them. Not yet."
Harry looked down and chewed on his lip. Tywin sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder, sitting next to him on the stone stair that Harry had sunk onto, away from his own birthday festivities. He'd needed a break from it all. He had said that he wasn't in the mood to celebrate, yet it had been forced on him regardless.
"You love too fiercely, Harry. It is not a fault, merely an observation. The smallfolk are not under your care until you are the king."
"Father doesn't care about them. No one cares about them. No one but me. How can I celebrate when I can still see the fires and the smoke of the pyres, Grandfather? When I can still smell the burning bodies on the air? I just can't put it from my mind. The city is suffering, I cannot force myself to enjoy any feasts or celebrations until the city is healing."
Tywin let out a soft sounding laugh and pulled Harry to rest against his body. The hand on his shoulder went up into his hair and ruffled it gently.
"You will be one of the greatest kings that this world has ever known, Harian." Tywin told him confidently.
"I don't think so."
Tywin tipped his head down to look at him intently.
"You will." He said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Harry frowned and shrugged off the uncomfortable feelings that caused him. Instead, he focused on something that would make him feel better. "Can we have a lesson?"
Tywin blinked down at him. "It is your name day. You are allowed to have a day off of learning on your name day."
"I don't much feel like celebrating, Grandfather. I never wanted any of this, it doesn't seem right that I'm celebrating anything while the city is enduring such hardship and devastation. I would rather learn."
Tywin sighed and nodded. "Come on then, let us find somewhere more quiet."
Harry smiled and he stood. Together the two of them went to their usual spot, the small council chambers. Harry patted the Valyrian sphinxes that were inside the doors and he went to sit in his usual seat.
Tywin always sat next to him and today was no exception.
"You have always put duty before yourself."
"I always will." Harry said softly, almost to himself.
"That is why you will make the greatest king. Now, let us recap what you have learnt about the mines and resources of the lands that you will one day have rule over."
Harry nodded and he eased into the lesson, recounting everything that he had learned about the mines and other resources available in Westeros…and how to use and exploit them for his own benefit for the good of the realm.
- X
The city was still scarred from the bloody flux, there were those who were in mourning and businesses were still shut up, but the people were trying to carry on as much as they could.
Market days came back, farmers were once again travelling to the city from their farms beyond and children once again ran the streets, giggling and playing through the twisting alleys.
Harry's heart still hurt from the loss. The city reminded him of Hogwarts. Hogwarts after the final battle, that was. People dead, bodies strewn where they'd fallen, but at least the city was still standing for the most part. Doors had been kicked in, stone had been blood-stained, but the houses all still stood.
Harry did not get sick, much to Cersei and Jaime's disappointment, though that would likely be bittersweet considering Harry had kissed and coughed over both of his brothers and his sister, who likewise did not get sick.
Harry had spoken to Robert about the high rate of the taxes and his father had done exactly as Harry knew he would…he waved him away and laughed off his concern. But Harry had found out from the interaction that it had been Baelish to suggest the sixty per cent tariff. Harry would keep a close eye on Baelish from now on and he would take any other chance he could to convince Robert to lower it, even if it was just slightly. He swore that lowering that tariff would be the first thing he did when he became king.
Visitors were once again coming to the capital after the ravens had flown to inform everyone that the flux in the city was over. The raven that came from Casterly Rock was as large as it possibly could be and Tywin had looked angry and resigned as he read it.
"Harian, come with me a moment."
"Surely I should know of any news from Casterly Rock before he does?" Cersei had demanded angrily.
Tywin stood from the solar table waiting for Harry to do the same and he turned to look at his daughter, who had clenched her jaw at the disrespect she was being shown.
"No, Cersei, I don't think you should." He said firmly.
"They are my family!"
"Even Tyrion?" Tywin challenged and Harry watched as Cersei's face calmed a little, before she rallied.
"He is my brother." She said, but she was no longer interested in the missive, now that she believed that it didn't contain any news that she cared about.
"Come, Harian."
Harry was fretful, and by the looks of him so was Jaime, who did actually love his younger brother.
"Is Tyrion sick?" Harry asked worriedly, the moment they were out of the solar.
"No, he is fine, Harian." Tywin said.
Harry was led to a room not too far away and Tywin shut the door.
"I need you to remain calm and composed."
"Who has died?" Harry asked, his heart hammering in his chest and his fingers locked together, knotting tight with fear and anxiety.
"No one has died, but Gerion has decided to sail to Essos."
Harry blinked and his heart calmed itself. He wondered why this was considered news. A lot of nobles travelled to Essos for many reasons. Adventure, trade, pleasure, he didn't understand why this was supposed to upset him…unless…unless…
"He doesn't plan to come back?" He asked sadly, his face crumpling.
"He does plan to come back. He…he has likely chosen to go now as I am not at Casterly Rock and I cannot stop him. He has already sailed. Kevan writes that he wishes to recover the Lannister Valyrian sword, Brightroar, and that Gerion is going to sail to Valyria."
"But…but no one who sails to Valyria is allowed to dock in Westeros."
Tywin blinked at him. "Says who?" He asked curiously, momentarily sidetracked.
"It's law, Grandfather, set up by King Jaehaerys. It was because of Aerea Targaryen, who flew Balerion to Valyria and she died when she came back. I read the passage written by Septon Barth detailing the change in the laws. No one is allowed to sail to Valyria, and no ship or crew who has been to Valyria is allowed to dock in Westeros."
Tywin almost smiled and he shook his head. "I doubt anyone in this entire land knows of that law, except you. If Gerion does go to Valyria and then comes back to Westeros, he will not be stopped."
Harry inhaled deeply and looked at Tywin worriedly. "If he comes back."
"I am going to write to Casterly Rock. I will send ships, and men, to find Gerion. He is my brother and I would see him unharmed."
Harry breathed again, filling his lungs and holding onto his composure. Nothing too terrible had happened to Gerion and Harry was grateful. That could change at a moment's notice, he knew, but thus far nothing bad had happened, not that they knew about. Gerion was just off adventuring and Harry held onto that knowledge and the belief that his uncle would one day come back.
"Please let me know if anything happens. I don't like being in the dark about such things."
"That is why I made the decision to tell you of Gerion's plans." Tywin told him. "If anything happens to Gerion, I will keep you informed, but Gerion has ever been a restless boy. He hungers for adventure. I am surprised that he took this long."
"He is only six-and-thirty." Harry said. "He is not so old that he's passed his prime."
Tywin chuckled. "I seem to recall you calling Tygett an old man at six-and-thirty before."
"I was younger then." Harry waved away, pretending to be bashful over his earlier claims of a man of thirty-six being 'old', he'd done it on purpose after all.
"A mere five years ago."
"It seems an eternity ago!" Harry complained. "I feel so much older than I did back then. I was only four at the time."
Tywin aimed a smirk at him. "You have done some growing in those five years."
Harry nodded his agreement. "Another five years and I'll be almost a man grown."
"We shall see then what sort of man you'll be."
"A good one, I hope."
A hand went to his shoulder and squeezed. "You are already a better man than most. A few more years to grow and learn. A few more years to spread yourself out and find out who you truly are. I expect great things from you, Harian. But remember that I will always be there to help you when you need it. You will always be able to come to me for any advice that you need."
Harry smiled then. "Thank you, Grandfather."
Tywin patted his shoulder and then they went back to the solar. Harry was only going back in there to collect Balon. He needed a distraction and a rather large one at that.
He hoped that Gerion would be alright on his excursion to Essos, despite that he was planning on going to Valyria. Harry thought it was a shit that he hadn't come to the capital to say goodbye personally, but considering that Tywin was here, then Gerion probably hadn't come because he'd feared that his older brother, and lord, would stop him from going. Which, given that Tywin wasn't best pleased with Gerion for going, would have likely happened.
That could have been a disastrous falling out too if Tywin had sent Gerion back to Casterly Rock in disgrace. Harry sighed, why couldn't anything be simple? He liked nice and simple.
"My Prince?"
Harry blinked and looked up. He smiled at Balon.
"Come, Ser. I would practice some archery today." He announced, leaving the solar that he hadn't realised he'd entered.
He would leave Tywin to tell Cersei, and a worried Jaime, that Tyrion was fine and that it was Gerion who was causing mischief this time. Harry hoped that his uncle came home safe and well, with or without Brightroar.