Now, the action of Season 1 starts.


TYRION VIII

The wheelhouse bumped against something on the ground, but it kept moving forward. Tyrion resumed his reading where he left it.

Although Aegon's motives cannot be put into doubt, it seems he had a favorable prejudice towards the smallfolk that prevented him from being wise like his ancestor, Jaehaerys. He sent too much help to the North during the long winter his reign began with. He had an exceedingly pity for the smallfolk, having spent his years squiring for a wandering knight. His lack of time at court, and the too great part of his life that he spent with the people, stopped him from seeing the wisdom of lords and ladies. He saw highborn people as oppressors instead of benefactors and rulers, and he saw the smallfolk invariably as victims of harsh treatments the lords and knights gave them, while these treatments were necessary to prevent rebellions and uprisings and to maintain peace. He didn't realize that most of the people's misery came from their own misdoings, or from the hazards of nature, and that without their lords who stocked food for winter and watched out for them, the smallfolk would be far worse than they actually were. He deprived the lords from the rights and liberties the gods granted them, and gave them to an illiterate mob unable to rule itself. Fortunately, these unwise politics didn't last long. Under the rule of his grandson, the great and wise Aerys the Second, and of his Hand, the wise Lord Tywin Lannister, Aegon's laws favoring the smallfolk were undone, and the era of chaos, troubles and rebellions ended for one of peace and prosperity, all that thanks to our beloved king and his Hand.

This Maester Plutarch was quite a lickspitter. He had written his Life of Aegon the Unlikely under Aerys's reign, when Tyrion's father ruled the Seven Kingdoms, and he spent most of his time at the Citadel. Tyrion doubted he ever left it. He may never have met Aegon the Unlikely, Aerys the Mad or Tywin Lannister the Old Lion. He spent his time at the top of a great tower, unaware of the sufferings and the real life of the people.

Tyrion knew what the people had to go through. Ever since he met Tysha, like his father used to say, he spent his time drinking with thieves and bedding harlots. Mostly, the thieves stole because if they didn't, they died, and the harlots sold their bodies for the same reason. He remembered the men raping Tysha, or the bruises and cuts on Alla's back. He saw highborn people as oppressors instead benefactors, and he saw the smallfolk invariably as victims of harsh treatments the lords and knights gave them, while these treatments were necessary to prevent rebellions and uprisings and to maintain peace. When reading this, Tyrion had the temptation to agree with Aegon. This maester knew nothing. The lords had duties and responsibilities towards their smallfolk, that was true, but very often they did more to enforce their own rights over the smallfolk than to give them what was owed to them. Tyrion's father had allowed tax collectors to rob the people as long as they gave the expected taxes they were supposed to collect for House Lannister. People lost their hand for stealing an apple. Women were raped on the roads by robbers and knights all alike. In times of war, wars that were declared by highborn people, sons were taken away from their families to join the army, and the odds were great that they would get killed. Lands were ravaged, and all the life's work of a farmer could be destroyed within a single day if an army passed nearby, no matter if this army was here to protect him or to conquer him. In both cases, he almost lost everything he had because the army requisitioned everything he had. That was when the soldiers didn't steal it and raped his wife and his daughters in the process. Camp followers had a better fate in war when you looked at it.

Tyrion had tried to make the punishment for robbery less severe. He kept the harsh sentences for murder and reinforced those for rape. Tyrion had decided that all knights who were reported to have raped a woman, whoever she was, would have to be judged by him, and only him, or by men he chose himself. Any knight who was found guilty was sentenced to fifty whiplashes. Most of them fainted while the sentence was carried out. When they woke up, in the dungeons, they were cast away without anything but the clothes on them. They were stripped from their lands and all their other belongings, and were forgiven to ever carry a weapon again while in the Westerlands. Tyrion wished he could deprive them of their knighthood, but it wasn't in his power. Only the king could do it. Still, to deprive a knight from the right to hold a sword was already very humiliating for them. As for the others who raped women, Tyrion had sent directives to his bannermen to carry out the sentence of gelding in every occasion. He had even thought of gelding the men who raped Tysha years ago, since some of them were still in service at Casterly Rock, but he decided not to at the end. They weren't the only ones who did it. He only relegated them in lower positions and duties.

For robbery, however, Tyrion encouraged alternatives to cutting a hand. If the robbery was only about food, then he offered the robber the chance to start a new life somewhere else. There were many lands in the Westerlands that weren't farmed, ships that lacked a crew, mines that lacked miners, and workshops without workers. He offered opportunities to these people to work honestly. These were hard works and often involved to move far away from where they lived, but it was better than losing a hand. However, if they failed and robbed again, then the sentence was for the hand. The alternatives were the Wall or the mines of Casterly Rock. Tyrion encouraged his bannermen to offer the Wall and the work in mines to all men guilty of robbery, though for rape, it was the gelding, with or without the Wall.

"Are you well, my love?" Tyrion looked up. Margaery had interrupted her embroidery and was looking at him, worried.

"Yes, I am. I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You looked quite thoughtful, and from the face you made, your thoughts were not pleasant."

"That was nothing. I was just… reminiscing about the past."

She said nothing for a while. "I wonder how long it will be before the wedding."

"Not long. Maybe a few days after we arrive. Genna is taking care of everything."

"I hope she will respect the uses in the Reach."

"She respected them for your own wedding. Do you think she won't, this time? My aunt is clever enough to know our alliance is vital."

Margaery nodded. "I know. And I suppose that organizing the wedding will be far less exhausting without my grandmother wanting to change everything."

Tyrion chuckled. Many people hadn't recovered yet from the passage of the Queen of Thorns in Casterly Rock two years ago. His aunt had, but others hadn't. "She won't complain about her absence."

"It's too bad that your uncle won't assist it."

Tyrion knew it. They had met Kevan not far from Deep Den last week. He was riding for King's Landing to take his position as Master of Laws. His uncle hadn't been very happy about being ordered to leave his family for a nest of vipers.

"I would have liked to be warned before you left that you would have Robert name me on the small council," Tyrion's uncle had told him while they discussed.

"I didn't know at the time. It was Margaery who came up the idea while we were on the road. When we left, we thought we would only ask for a reduction of taxes. Finally, we thought it would be better to ask for someone on the small council, in order to make sure that Robert held his word."

"So, I have to thank Lady Margaery for that?"

"She wanted someone from her family to sit on the small council, but at the end, we thought it would be better if he was a Lannister. Cersei wouldn't suffer a Tyrell on the small council."

"How was she? I suppose she didn't like her sister-in-law."

"No, she didn't. She threatened to have her killed." Kevan's eyes grew concerned. "I think she used the words strangle in your sleep. Yes, that's what she told to my wife. As you can see, she was in her usual mood."

Kevan sighed. "We cannot allow that kind of things. She already crossed too many lines."

"You'll have to keep an eye on her," Tyrion said.

"Of course, I will." His uncle looked discouraged. "Attempting to rise your bannermen in rebellion, trying to have you poisoned… What's going on with her?"

"According to Varys, she also sent ravens to the Iron Islands, the Florents, and Gregor Clegane, among all."

"You've got to be kidding."

"I'm not. Of course, that's the word of the Spider, so we cannot be entirely sure, but Margaery wrote to her family to tell them to watch the Florents closely."

"We'll have to ask our allies to watch the Iron Islands as well," said Kevan. "This is unacceptable. Does Jaime know about it?"

"Do you think it would be useful to tell him?" Tyrion loved his brother, but the problem was that Jaime loved Cersei above everything else. His brother would never do anything against her, and he would never forgive Tyrion if he ever did something to Cersei.

"Probably not," Kevan admitted. "Jaime never had a head for politics. Let's leave him out of it."

"Do you have any idea about what we could do? Maybe send Cersei somewhere, away from everyone. Somewhere comfortable, but where she could do no harm."

"I'm afraid not. She is your sister, and the queen. Her place is either at Casterly Rock or in King's Landing, and to bring her back to Casterly Rock wouldn't solve our problems. Anyway, we cannot let the other lords know about all of this. The consequences on House Lannister would be terrible. Better to leave her in the capital under heavy guard and to watch her. That's what I'll do."

"Be careful, Kevan."

"I will be."

"We don't know what Cersei is capable of."

His uncle had left not long after this discussion. They both had to move separate ways. But now, who knew what Cersei could do. At Deep Den, they learnt that Jon Arryn died of a fever. Tyrion had hoped that Kevan might get along well with Jon Arryn. Both men were men of duty, without ambition, who did as they were told. They weren't much different. Now, the old man was dead and Robert had no Hand.

Tyrion resumed his conversation with his wife. "That won't be so bad for my uncle in the capital. My cousin Lancel is there, acting as squire for the king. It's been awhile since Kevan saw him. He'll be quite happy to see his eldest son again."

"Probably," Margaery conceded. "Lancel will surely love to have his father close to him again. He looked so lost when I saw him there."

"The truth is, Lancel found himself squiring for the king only because Cersei and my father insisted. But if you want my opinion, there are many other lads who could pour Robert's wine without problem."

Margaery smiled. "Indeed. Don't be too harsh on him. I found Robert quite insulting towards him. I pity him."

"I suppose his squiring is much less entertaining than the one your brother did for Renly Baratheon."

"Indeed," she simply answered. They both knew how entertaining Loras Tyrell's squiring had been for him. "Though now I wonder, if Jon Arryn is dead, who will be Hand of the King? I can already see my father suggesting himself for the position."

"I can, me too, but I doubt Robert will accept. Your father barely has better odds to be chosen than Randyll Tarly, and Doran Martell is more likely to get the position than him."

"Then he will turn to his bannermen in the Stormlands."

"I doubt it. Robert is more of the sort to choose someone he loves and trust, and he probably loves none of his bannermen. I can't see him naming Renly, so one of Renly's bannermen?"

"Then he could choose Stannis, in this case. He doesn't speak much, but from what I know, he's not careless like Renly."

"Stannis would make a better choice than Renly, it's true, though the man would be more useful in times of war than in times of peace. But Robert has no love for either of his brothers. I think it is more likely that he will think about Eddard Stark."

"The Lord of Winterfell?" asked Margaery.

"Yes. Robert and Ned Stark grew up together at the Eyrie. They were both fostered there. Robert speaks of him like a brother, much more than for his real brothers. They are very close friends."

"I wonder what Ned Stark would think if he learnt that his friend considered marrying his daughter to the Imp."

Tyrion smiled. "I think the friendship would be in danger."

Any sane father would refuse to marry his daughter to him. Tyrion was glad that Margaery's father was insane.

"What about Kevan?" asked Margaery. "He advised you well. If Robert wants a good Hand, he wouldn't be a bad choice."

"No. Kevan would do a fine job. He always did his duty, just like Jon Arryn. He would be a second Jon Arryn, but younger. But I'm quite sure my sister is already pushing someone else to Robert."

"Who?" Margaery seemed skeptical.

"My brother."

Her face showed utter surprise. "Your brother? Ser Jaime Lannister?"

"Yes."

"I don't imagine him as Hand of the King."

"Me neither. Jaime would certainly refuse. There are still limits to what he could do for my sister. She wanted him to become Lord of the Rock when our father died, and he refused. As he says, the Hands' days are too long, and their lives are too short."

Margaery nodded. "Well, I suppose we must wait and see. There isn't much we can do, except reacting if the new Hand ever has the idea to raise the taxes again."

"Indeed."

Tyrion returned to the reading of his book as Margaery gave back some attention to her embroidery. However, she interrupted her work and her husband's reading not much later.

"Tyrion, as you know, Mira will leave for Highgarden after Daven's wedding."

"Of course. I suppose Willa is eager to marry her."

"Yes, he is. But I thought I should accompany her. After all, Willas is my cousin. I want to be there when he is wed."

Tyrion wasn't sure. "We have been away from the Rock for four months now, not to mention the time we spent touring the Westerlands and at Old Oak. We ought to spend some time there."

"You said yourself a lord shouldn't spend his whole life into a castle."

"No, it' true, but he must spend some time in here. We are not called the Lord and the Lady of Casterly Rock for nothing."

"That won't take long. I'll go to Highgarden with Mira, then come back immediately when the wedding is over. Are you going to forbid me?"

Her face showed quite clearly she didn't think Tyrion could or would. And she was right, he couldn't. "Fuck it. I'll come with you. I told you we would visit your home one day. That is as good a time as any. I'll leave Damion as castellan and Daven to act as Warden of the West in our absence. That will be some sort of a wedding gift."

She smiled sweetly at him. She left her seat, came to sit by his side, and planted a long kiss on his lips. "I love you." Then they resumed their kiss, until the carriage bumped again. "I'm afraid this is not a very good time for it. Let's wait for the night."

They went back to their occupations. Tyrion found his reading quite dull with the comments the author made all the time. He kept the book open, but his eyes often left it to look at his wife sitting right in front of him. He thought she was embroidering a rose, or something similar. She was beautiful, as always, and Tyrion found it more interesting to look at her working than to read a maester full of prejudices. He remembered a passage of his Life of Tywin Lannister, where he digressed about Tyrion's birth, saying that Tywin Lannister would have been within his rights to kill the child, considering he was useless and unworthy to be Tywin's son. Tyrion wondered if the maester had been bribed by his father or his sister.

After a few hours, they stopped. When Tyrion left the wheelhouse with Margaery, he noticed the embroidery she was making. It was a mountain that looked similar to the Rock, made with red and green lines. Tyrion and Margaery dined with Devan and his betrothed that evening, and Tyrion also shared a few words with Lord Paxter who followed them for his daughter's wedding.

Later, in the night, Tyrion was lying on his back in their bed, his wife's head nestled into the crack of his neck. He tried to sleep, but didn't really succeed. Even though it was much better than before, his sleep was still light, and it wasn't rare that he didn't sleep at all in one night. It didn't really bother him. He was used to not sleeping much, and it gave him more time with Margaery, even if she was sleeping and he wasn't. He could hear her breath in the silent night, feel the warmth of her body against his own, smell the remnants of the perfume she had on her today. He cherished every minute he spent with her. Everything was perfect between them. He only wished he could give her children. They needed some to ensure their legacy, and he knew Margaery wanted to be a mother, even if she never really said it. He would need to ask Creylen about it when they went back home.

The flap of the tent opened. Someone approached with a light. With the faint light, Tyrion recognized Mira Forrester.

"My lord, my lady," she whispered.

"What is it, Lady Mira?" Tyrion asked.

"There's a man who just arrived. He says he wants to see you, and that it's urgent."

"Can't it wait on the morning?"

"He says it can't. He said he had to speak to you immediately."

Tyrion sighed. "Very well. Tell him to come in."

The northern girl left. Tyrion stretched himself and got out of bed. He put on a dressing gown to cover his naked body and moved the furs on the bed to cover his wife's body. Margaery stirred as Tyrion was walking away to the center of the tent.

"What's going on?" Margaery asked.

"Someone to see me for an urgent matter."

"At this hour?" She rubbed her eyes. The man would be better to really have a good reason for a nocturnal visit.

"It seems so." Tyrion lit a few candles, though not too many. Margaery had just woken up. She lied in their bed, keeping the covers closely to her body. The Reach may be more liberal than the Westerlands, but Margaery wasn't a Dornishwoman either. She wasn't about to show her body to the first visitor.

The man who came in with Lady Mira was short for someone who wasn't a dwarf, with a flat face, small eyes and a beard. "My lord, please excuse me to bother you at this time, but I wanted to be sure the fewer people would notice me. I was given the instruction to give you this." He produced a scroll with black wax sealing it. "I was ordered to give it to you, and only to you."

Tyrion took the paper. "What's in this?"

"I don't know, my lord. I wasn't told. It would be better if I leave."

He left, as quick as a snake, before anyone could stop him. Lady Mira looked at Tyrion with questioning eyes.

"Leave us alone, please."

The northern handmaiden curtsied and left the tent. Tyrion looked at the seal. It wasn't one he knew. At the dim light of the candles, and despite the color of the seal, he managed to read the three letters inscribed on it. KLW.

That didn't ring any bell in Tyrion's mind. He broke the seal and read the content of the scroll.

Jon Arryn died of a severe fever that took him within two days. One day he was fine and healthy, and two days later he died in his bed. He had nauseas all time before he died, and a great stench came out from the bowels of his dead body. The disease was as sudden as it was deadly. These aren't only a fever's symptoms. Gladly, no one says it is something else that took him. The Realm would be in danger if someone did.

Our king will find a new Hand. We all wonder where he'll find him. Who could replace Jon Arryn?

There was no signature, but seeing the way this message was written, and how it was brought, Tyrion had a good idea who might have sent it. And if what he said about the way Jon Arryn died was true…

"So, what is it?" Margaery's voice testified she was still half asleep. Tyrion's mind was working hard, trying to consider all the implications of this message. "Tyrion?"

"This is a message from Varys, I believe. He didn't put his name, but that would be his style."

"What does it tell?"

"It suggests that Jon Arryn was murdered."

Margaery had talked as if they had a discussion around a glass of wine on a normal evening, but now she was more awaken. She straightened in the bed, the covers falling slightly off her beautiful body. "What?"

"That's what it suggests. Of course, Varys doesn't claim that he was assassinated, not directly. He only says he could have died from something else than a fever."

"Do you think it's possible?"

Tyrion read again the part of the message that explained how Jon Arryn died. "The symptoms are similar to a very rare poison, the tears of Lys. The poison that my sister tried to use against me years ago."

A huge silence fell into the tent. "Do you believe that Cersei killed Jon Arryn?"

Tyrion began to pace along the room. "She would be capable of that, especially if she was in a desperate situation, that she or her children were in danger. But why would she kill Jon Arryn? She spent the seventeen last years close to him. Why now? Unless he threatened her, or Joffrey, or Myrcella, or Tommen, or all of them."

"Could he have done this?"

"I doubt it. We're talking about Jon Arryn, not my father." Margaery's face showed she agreed. She never liked it to hear about his father. People had taken the habit to mention Tywin Lannister the less possible in her presence. "It's not his style to attack children. And why would he do that?" Unless…

"Maybe he was resentful because we forced him to lower the taxes."

"No, the man is too honorable to do that for such a reason. He would need a huge reason for threatening Cersei or her children. She's still the queen, and her children are Robert's children as well."

Margaery looked thoughtful for a moment. The covers had completely fallen now, and her whole body from her waist to her head was exposed. Tyrion tried to not think too much about it. The Hand of the King had possibly been assassinated by his sister. Jon Arryn would never do something against Cersei or Robert's children… unless he discovered the truth.

"Tyrion, you told me Cersei wrote not only to the Leffords and the Westerlings, but also to the Florents and to Balon Greyjoy to spark a rebellion. What if Jon Arryn discovered the truth and Cersei knew it?"

Tyrion reflected about it. "That's not unlikely. Varys had the information, after all. And Jon Arryn would be foolish enough to tell Cersei before he revealed it to Robert. Pycelle is on my sister's side. He could help poisoning the Hand without problem."

Margaery seized a dressing gown and wrapped herself in it. She still sat on the bed. Tyrion was glad of it. Her nakedness distracted him. "Tyrion, if Cersei is beginning to assassinate people for real, not only to try, that's grave. We have to stop her, and now."

"What do you want us to do? We don't know for sure if she's behind this. We have no proof against her. Only a message that Varys sent us, and he won't confess to sending it. I cannot tell the whole Realm that my own sister murdered the Hand of the King without proof and without certainty. Imagine the consequences for the Lannisters, and for the Tyrells too. We are allies now. And if Cersei wasn't behind this? If it was someone else?"

Margaery thought for some time. "You're right. But we cannot do nothing either. If Jon Arryn was assassinated…"

"We have to discover if he was murdered, and if he was, who killed him. But we cannot investigate that from the Westerlands. We need someone in King's Landing. Someone we can trust."

"Kevan is riding for King's Landing. We should send him a raven immediately."

"No, we can't. Pycelle has been working for my sister and my father before her for years. We cannot be sure of his loyalty."

"He could tell Cersei." Margaery realized what this meant. "If Cersei committed the murder, then he will read the message and tell her."

"And if she didn't, he will tell her all the same. Who knows what Cersei could do in either cases? Anyway, Kevan is only Master of Laws. He cannot go all around the capital, asking if the Hand of the King was murdered. It will attract the attention of the new Hand, if it doesn't attract Robert's. No. The only person who could investigate this is the Hand of the King himself… Which means, we need someone we can trust as the new Hand."

"You said Robert would never choose a Tyrell or a Lannister for Hand."

"No, he won't. Unless he has no choice."

"We cannot threaten him like we did before," Margaery pointed out.

"No, of course. We cannot threaten the king to starve the capital at every turn. But Robert may be willing to name a Lannister on the position if no one else is willing to take the job. Kevan would be a good choice, or me."

"You?" Margaery almost looked as if she mocked him. "I didn't know you had such ambitions."

"If there are troubles in King's Landing, I would rather be there. I don't want a war to start, or to see my nephews and my niece in danger. My father was Hand of the King for twenty years, perhaps it's time for me to be Hand as well. And it will give you the opportunity to push forward the betrothal you hope between your brother and Myrcella."

She smiled. "I suppose we'll have to spend more time in King's Landing in the future."

"Maybe. First, we must make sure whoever Robert asks to be Hand will refuse."

"But we don't know who he's going to ask."

"No, we don't," Tyrion recognized. He looked at the scroll. "Varys doesn't tell us what are Robert's intentions. We cannot even be sure this is from Varys, though I think it's very likely to be him. But the seal…"

Tyrion looked at the black seal with three letters. He never saw it before. He didn't think the Master of Whisperers even used seals. They couldn't even know if the man who brought it came from King's Landing. Tyrion noticed the three letters again. KLW. He blinked. That wasn't the name of a person. It was an itinerary. Varys told them where Robert was heading.

"I think I know who Robert wants as his Hand." He brought the scroll to Margaery. "Look at the letters on the seal. It's the place he's leaving, and the place where he's going."

Margaery's face dawned with the realization. "He's going far away to find a Hand."

"He is. And that's where we must go, if we want the next Hand to be on our side. I'm afraid we'll have to leave as soon as Daven's wedding is done. Sorry, we won't be able to assist your cousin's wedding."

She shook her head and shrugged. "That's alright. It's not your fault. I'll write to Willas and tell him. He will understand."

"You mustn't reveal…"

"Of course, I won't tell him. This must remain between us for the time being, until we know more." Margaery sighed and put the message on a table. "I suppose I'll have to ask my dressmakers to prepare me a few warmer clothes."

Indeed, she would have to, and Tyrion as well.


It's not the best chapter for the beginning of the show part, I would rather have started it with the following chapter, but this one is necessary to understand a few things in the upcoming chapters. I can't wait for your to read them.

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Next chapter: a new POV