Tyrion is back... after an absence of 17 chapters.
TYRION XV
The men are showing the first signs of restlessness. We keep them busy with training and sending them foraging the lands but that won't last. Armies are not made to remain stationary for a long time. I understand your orders, cuz, but I still wish I could bring my men to battle. Take care of you.
Daven
The message came from the Golden Tooth. Tyrion wasn't surprised. Soldiers grew restless when they remained idle. However, he couldn't give Daven what he asked. If the army he and his father Stafford commanded was to attack the Riverlands, then there was a chance the Tullys and the Starks would fall back into Stannis' arms. Right now, they only held a few castles in the western part of the Riverlands and used the opportunity to have their army live on Tully lands. They also took a lot of the food and livestock of this kingdom back with them when they abandoned the siege of Riverrun. Tyrion didn't have to send too much to sustain the army stationed at the Golden Tooth as a result. For now, at least. Things might change if this situation dragged on. But first, he had to wait, let Robb Stark and Stannis fight and weaken each other.
The other raven was from Deep Den, where Ser Addam Marbrand led the second Lannister army.
No sign of Stannis attacking us or intending to do so. He seems to focus on the Starks and the Tullys, like you informed us. We remain on our position for now, renewing our troops and preparing to invade the Crownlands as soon as you give us the signal.
He did nothing. Sometimes, nothing was the hardest thing to do. As to whether it was the right or wrong thing to do though, it depended on the circumstances. His father waited for the right moment to strike during Robert's Rebellion. It paid off. Tyrion would do the same thing, launching his troops when the time was right. Sadly, doing nothing didn't serve him as well in his private life as it could serve him in the world of politics.
On the wall on his right hung the golden rose of Highgarden with the green field behind. Right now, he and the Rose of Highgarden had nothing to tell each other. He had gone to see her this evening. She was alone, all wearing black, still beautiful despite everything that happened. He had brought her the message about the death of her handmaiden's brother.
Tyrion regretted the death of Rodrik Forrester. He met his father at the Tourney of Lannisport long ago. As for his daughter, he saw her so often over the last few years that he came to respect her and her family deeply. He knew how close Margaery was to her. Did he believe that by telling her about the death of Rodrik Forrester, not hiding her this information, he would somehow be forgiven for what the many months of his lies left behind them? He doubted it, but he didn't want to lie to her anymore.
He read the reports on the recruitment of new soldiers to compensate for their losses, the reports about the state of provisions for winter, and requests from all the lords and landed knights and merchants and all other people who could read and write. Work, he had to work to forget but he could not.
Finally, he blew up a few papers away from him and fell back into his chair. His solar was dark, only lit by a single candle. A wine decanter was placed on the corner. For the hundredth time today, he considered taking some. But he didn't. Whores, drinking, gambling, he stopped all this the day he got married. Well, not entirely, he still occasionally drank and gambled, but Margaery made sure he would never overindulge himself again in these domains. Strangely, Tyrion made a game of sneaking wine past her eyes so he could drink when she was absent. It was some sort of half serious half joking game before. Now that they were estranged, he didn't dare to go back to his old habits. He didn't want them anymore. A few times, the idea to visit a brothel made its way through his mind, only to be blown apart right away. A whore could not replace the woman he loved, and he didn't want to replace her anyway.
Jaime dead. Cersei dead. Joffrey dead. Loras dead. Margaery lost to me. Where would it end? He had lost the only family member who never treated him as a monster. Without him, Tyrion would never have survived his childhood. Jaime was all he had for a very long time. Cersei would have killed him long ago without him. Now both were gone, and their eldest son as well. Myrcella was still in Dorne, safe or so he hoped, while Tommen was here, at Casterly Rock, for now the seat of their new king.
He should have been happy that Joffrey was dead. In fact, he was quite glad that he no longer had to deal with this spoiled and cruel boy. Tommen was sweet, king, good-natured, and with time he could become a good king for his people. While they were at it, they could also hope that he would build castles made of gingerbread and moats would be filled with blackberry wine under his rule. However, he didn't feel happy about Joffrey's death. Perhaps it was only the fact that the boy was Jaime's son after all. Or maybe it was only because like everyone else, Tyrion somehow took pity for Joffrey because he was dead and now his heart was trying to trick his mind by only showing Joffrey's good sides, whatever small they were. Why do we always think more fondly of people after they're deceased?
Tired. He was so tired, and since he couldn't drink, and that he couldn't whore either, then the best option was probably to sleep. He let himself slip from his chair and walked out of his solar, the great banners of House Lannister and the small one of House Tyrell defiling as he progressed to the exit. In the corridors, there were guards at every door and every corner. After what happened to Renly and Joffrey, he wasn't about to take any chance. Was his nephew murdered by a shadow as well? Ser Barristan said they couldn't find the assassin. Even if it wasn't a shadow that killed him like Renly, then this meant Stannis must have hired a specialized assassin to do the job. Maybe Varys, though his spies in the capital swore the eunuch had not been seen since the city fell.
No matter who did that, Tyrion now knew that Stannis had the necessary means to kill someone in his own castle or while he was surrounded by his own men. Tyrion didn't know if that would make much difference, but more guards was a supplementary protection he didn't mind paying for.
He arrived at his old chambers. He lived there before his father died. It was an eternity since he set foot in this room, since his father told him on his deathbed that it was time for him to behave like the Lord of Casterly Rock. The guard didn't move when Tyrion approached, nor when he pushed the door. Slowly, the long hours of the day weighing on his shoulders, he walked in direction of his bed.
"We need to talk."
At first, he didn't know what to do. Did he just imagine the voice?
"Tyrion, look at me."
This time, he couldn't have imagined that. He looked where the voice came from and saw his wife. Despite the limited light provided by the few candles still lit, Tyrion could see her very well. Her hair was unbraided, and she wore a nightgown in the Reach style, the kind he loved the most since they revealed the largest parts of her body. It seems like some rumors about me are true, after all. No matter the circumstances, I'll always be attracted to women.
"I wasn't expecting you," he whispered.
"I know, but I needed to see you."
"I won't complain about your presence." He moved the chair in front of her and sat down. "What do you want, my lady?"
Like always between them, a long and heavy silence settled. Tyrion waited for her to speak. He didn't know himself what to say, so he didn't hold it against her to not say anything. Finally, she seemed to take a decision.
"How did you know they were their children?"
"Pardon me."
"Joffrey, Tommen, Myrcella. How do you know they are Jaime and Cersei's children? How do you know your brother is the father? Did they tell you?"
He found it an odd question. He thought he made it quite clear that he hid her the truth about their nephews and niece ever since the day they were married.
"Well, they never said that they were his children, but it wasn't hard for me to find out. I'm their brother and I spent more than enough time with them to recognize the signs."
She sighed and shook her head. "What I mean is… how can you be sure that they are Jaime's children? Cersei was sleeping with Robert. Is it impossible that maybe one or two of them are from him?"
Tyrion blinked several times. Where was she going? Again, she sighed and dropped her head. She seemed… desperate. When she looked back to him, her eyes made it even more obvious.
"I crossed Tommen today, on the way back to our chambers. He was looking for his cat and… I tried all this time, ever since we left the capital, I tried to look at him and to see the son of your brother and sister, a bastard born of incest, a monster. But all I could see today was a boy playing with his favorite cat. So tell me…" Her voice was shaking now. "Is there a chance that he might be Robert's son? Or even that Myrcella could be his daughter?"
Tyrion remained silent for a long time. He had his chance. He could tell her that yes, it was possible. After all, how could they be certain that all Cersei's children were from Jaime, since he wasn't the only man she slept with. He could try to mend his relationship with his wife, just make her believe that Tommen might be Robert's son… but he didn't.
He sighed just as Margaery did before he answered. "I wish I could tell you that, but I don't ever want to lie to you again. I wasn't in the bedchamber when my siblings made love, and I wasn't in Robert's personal chamber either to see him fuck my sister. But I know they were lovers, and as far as I'm concerned, I'm persuaded that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are all Jaime's children."
She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, then reopened them. "I asked if there was a chance. So don't lie to me again."
"There is a possibility, yes, but I don't believe in it."
She nodded. "If Stannis wins this war, if he catches them, they will die."
"Stannis will never let them live," he confirmed. "Even if he believed they were Robert's children, they would remain a threat to his rule. We lose, Tommen and Myrcella die, and I most certainly die as well."
She nodded again, and another long silence took place between them before she talked again. "Stannis killed my brother." She stood up and began to pace around the room, Tyrion following her with his eyes. She came to a stop and looked straight at him. "I know what I saw, Tyrion. Maybe you don't believe me, but I know the truth. A shadow with the face of Stannis Baratheon murdered Renly right in front of me."
"I believe you. Even if I find it hard to believe in such a tale, I believe you all the same."
"My brother would still be alive without Stannis. He didn't kill him, but it's as if he did. Loras is dead because of what happened in this tent on that night."
"Just like Jaime," Tyrion whispered.
"Stannis is a threat to us all. I will not let him harm any other person I love."
Tyrion nodded. "It's good to hear." At least, they shared a common enemy and this was clear now. Their alliance with House Tyrell was essential if they hoped to win this war and place Tommen on the Iron Throne. That was the best he could hope for.
"There's something else I wanted to tell you." He looked back at her. Her expression of determination was gone. She looked at him like… like the day he told her about Tysha.
"I had time to think about it, Tyrion, and I still wish you told me the truth when Stannis started to tell the story."
"I should have, but I was afraid."
"I still believe you shouldn't have protected Cersei and Jaime like this. They were your siblings, part of your family, I get it, but Cersei tried to kill you, and your brother…" She looked about to say something. "He didn't deserve your love. He wasn't worthy of it."
Tyrion looked to the floor. "You have no idea what it was like to grow in this family. My mother died the day I was born, my father despised me because I killed her and because I was a dwarf. Cersei hated me because she lost her mother the day I came into the world. But Jaime… he was the only one who never saw me like a monster. The only one to treat me like a member of his family. You have no idea what he's done for me. Without him, I would have died long ago. Cersei would have killed me long before. I don't know what I would have become without him. I would never have met you."
He didn't dare to look at her. None of them said anything for a long time. Only a few feet from him, the woman he loved stood, and here he was, sitting in a chair, telling her about the good things Jaime did for him, defending his brother who played no small part in the starting of the war that killed her own brother. He defended the brother who pushed a boy of ten from the top of a tower, who made love and gave three children to his twin sister, who murdered his own king, who… He defended the Kingslayer. But he couldn't do anything else. Jaime was his brother.
"I understand why you lied to me. I don't have a brother and a sister who make love together but… you know where Loras' preferences lied." Of course, everyone knew. "If he had ever been in danger because of that, I would have lied about it to everyone, even my own family. Even to you, if needed."
For a moment, Tyrion tried to imagine the events had their roles been reversed. What if Margaery hid to him some huge secret about her family? A secret so dark that it caused him to go to war for her. Somehow, it was hard for him to imagine how he would have reacted. There were so few people he trusted in this world that he was never disappointed or even sad when someone betrayed him. It was as if he expected it. What if… what if it was Jaime who betrayed him? How would he feel? The problem was that he simply couldn't imagine Jaime betraying him, not even for Cersei.
And Margaery? Could she ever betray him? Well, he did betray her, so why wouldn't she? And for her family, overall, why would she choose him over her parents, her grandmother, even her cousins? When he thought about that, Tyrion only wondered whether Margaery could betray him during the first year of their union. At the beginning of their marriage, he assumed it as being normal, so he never questioned the possibility that it might happen. Six months after their marriage, after she said she loved him for the first time, he doubted on many occasions. And then it was like his mind, all of a sudden, didn't consider it as a possibility anymore.
With Tysha, he had doubts from the very beginning, but he ignored them. And then the truth came out, but Tyrion could never resent the poor girl, not after what his father's men did to her. Not after what he did.
Did he regret not taking his doubts about Tysha more seriously? Strangely, not at all. These two weeks were the best of his life… until he met Margaery.
His eyes moved up to meet hers. "I still love you, Tyrion. I tried to hate you, but I can't. And I don't believe my brother would have wanted that I hate my husband for the rest of my life."
"Somehow, I doubt it."
"I know your brother wouldn't have wanted that."
He gulped. He couldn't say anything for some time. When the words came out, they were strangled by his tears. "I love you too."
This night was the first in a long time he spent in the company of his wife. They didn't make love, they didn't become one, but they laid in each other's arms. When Tyrion fell asleep, it was to get the best night he had since she left King's Landing for the Stormlands.
On the morning, when he woke up, they were still in the same position. The barely visible way in which her lips curved was a sight he almost never hoped to see again. Her arm laid along her body, her palm pointing to the ceiling. Her hair was pushed back behind her neck. Tyrion noticed it was a little tangled, like when he used to pass his hand through her locks. He didn't move, just stayed there to look at her, sleeping peacefully. She was beautiful, like she had always been.
He began to caress the soft skin along her arm. Up and down, from her elbow to her wrist, again and again. She still wore her nightgown. They hadn't cared to undress before they went to bed. His eyes moved from her arm to the curves her clothes were revealing. After a moment, he thought he heard a giggle. His eyes shot back to her face. Her eyes were still shut, but he had the distinct impression the curve of her lips was more pronounced.
"Are you awake?"
Slowly, the eyelids opened to reveal her beautiful green eyes.
"Hi."
"Hi."
It took a long, but they got closer and their lips met. It was sweet, tender, slow, deep. He caressed her left cheek. Her hand wandered on the pillow, over his dead.
"I missed this," she told him as they lips separated.
"You're reading my thoughts, my queen," he replied, initiating laughs from both of them.
They resumed their kiss, but it was then that the door opened. Tyrion's squire, Ty, froze up the moment he entered the room and realized after a moment what was going on in his master's bed.
"Ty, have you never understood the concept of knocking when a door is closed?"
"Sorry, my… my lord. Sorry, my lady. I didn't know you were… If I had known… Please forgive me."
"Go out, Ty. I'll call when I need you."
The moment he was gone, he looked to his wife and they chuckled.
"Don't be too hard on him for the next few days, Tyrion. He'll be afraid you'll want to have him skin alive."
"I can't promise that, my lady. Sometimes, having people fearing the worst from can be quite funny."
She shot another irresistible smile and rose from the bed. For a short time as she moved, he saw one of her legs, perfectly shaped, uncovered by the tissue of her nightgown. Four years were gone since their wedding and she was more beautiful than ever.
"Try not to gawk too much at me today," she warned playfully. "We are still at war."
And that was it. They were back to reality. Tyrion dressed himself, realizing the meeting of the war council would start soon. That must have been why Ty came to see him.
Margaery and Tyrion found themselves sitting at an oval table with his aunt Genna, castellan of Casterly Rock in all but name during his absence, his cousin Ser Damion Lannister, the official castellan, Maester Creylen, Vylarr who was in charge of the defense of Casterly Rock, and Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and Ser Rodger Bridges, the commander of Margaery's personal guard, the closest to a representative of the Reach apart from Margaery at this table. This wasn't the small council. Tyrion didn't name one yet. Tommen was too young to rule, and with the war ongoing, there were more important things than to name a new small council. Furthermore, if he was to name members on the small council right away, it would be difficult to unname them afterwards. Better to keep all seats available for later, when the time would come to reward allies or to encourage enemies to take their side. For now, Tommen had officially acknowledged Tyrion as his regent and Protector of the Realm. The council assembled in this room was some sort of officious or shadow council, in place as long they had not taken King's Landing back.
On the table, a large map of Westeros was displayed, with pieces showing the position of all forces in Westeros.
"Very well, we're all here. Creylen, were there any changes to the situation since yesterday?"
"No, my lord. As you can see, the armies on the map haven't moved. Robb Stark is still riding away from King's Landing, and Stannis is chasing him. Whether the Stark boy will stop at Harrenhal, head for the North or assemble his troops at Riverrun, I cannot say."
In some way, Creylen was the non-official Grand Maester and Master of Whisperers. Tyrion regretted Varys. He had become fond of the eunuch, though he would never have entrusted his life into his hands. Still, he wished the Spider was with them. Tyrion had his network of informers he started to develop after he became Lord of Casterly Rock. All this time he spent in the brothels wasn't only useful with Margaery in bed. The owners of whorehouses in Lannisport had contacts with their competitors or collaborators in the capital, even inside the Red Keep itself, despite Stannis' attempt to ban them, though the latter decision was softened since Stannis departed from the capital. One of the girls in King's Landing managed to hear a conversation between two of Stannis' advisor when they were wondering about the place where Varys was hiding. This was good and bad news at the same time. Varys didn't work for the enemy, but he didn't work for them either. Who did he work for? The Realm, my lord. Someone must.
Tyrion's network combined with Creylen's work didn't make for a perfect substitute, but that was good enough for now.
"If Robb Stark is heading north, then he is a fool," Genna said, not willing to let the men do all the talking like always. "The Ironborn hold Moat Cailin. It is impossible to take it from the south. So unless he has some army besieging it from the north, he will die if he tries to get through."
No one would dare to contradict her.
"According to the latest information we have, Robb Stark should be very close to the frontier between the Crownlands and the Riverlands," Tyrion pointed. "I agree with my aunt, Robb Stark is not foolish enough to run into certain death. Ser Barristan, if you were in his place, what would you do?" He was the closest thing to a general Tyrion had right now.
"Going back in the North is indeed too dangerous, my lord. I wouldn't try to hold Harrenhal either. The fortress is in ruins. I think if I was Robb Stark, I would be heading for Riverrun. His uncle Edmure Tully has enough men to switch the balance. If Robb Stark was to join his forces with those of the Riverlands, he would have an army larger than Stannis. Furthermore, the Starks could take everything they need from the land as they progress to Riverrun and prevent Stannis from living on their lands."
"If the Starks take everything they want from the Riverlands, the Tully bannermen might choose to support Stannis," Creylen pointed out.
"I doubt it, Creylen. The Blackfish is riding with the Starks and the lords of the Riverlands only have their castle's garrisons at their disposal," Tyrion countered. "The rest is at Riverrun or covering the western part of Edmure Tully's lands." Tyrion took the lion positioned on the frontier between the Riverlands and the Westerlands. "Before I left the capital, I commanded Stafford to abandon the siege of Riverrun and bring his men to the Golden Tooth."
"A decision few of us here understand," sharply commented his aunt. Tyrion decided to ignore the jab.
"However, Daven and Stafford did well. They kept a few castles on the way, creating a corridor of occupied fortresses. Considering Stannis is now chasing Robb Stark from the Crownlands, I'm afraid Hoster Tully only left half a kingdom to his son, and soon he will not have any control over the other half."
Lord Hoster had died a few days ago. Not that it mattered a lot. His son, the brother of Catelyn Stark, was already Lord of Riverrun in all but name. When Tyrion met him as they travelled to Winterfell, he didn't find much to say about Edmure Tully. He was a common lord paramount, nothing more. He had much more respect for Hoster Tully, an old man who struggled to keep ruling as long as he could despite his declining health. Somehow, when Tyrion met him, it made him think of his own father on his deathbed, but much more civil.
"Edmure Tully is stuck between us on one side, and Robb Stark and Stannis on the other one. Some of his lords were there when Robb Stark was acclaimed King in the North and they joined their northern allies to cheer him. Considering how the Tullys consider family important, they will remain by the Stark side."
"Don't you think they could choose to betray them for Stannis?" Ser Rodger asked.
"This is not in the Reach," she said. "Edmure Tully will never turn on his own blood."
"So, what do we do?" Genna asked. "We all agree Robb Stark is most likely heading to Riverrun, so what do we do with that information? We let our enemies kill each other then deal with those who are left? That's what my brother would have done, just so that you know."
Hearing his aunt mention his father brought bad memories to Tyrion's mind. "I think this would be the safest course," he agreed. Tywin Lannister might have been a horrible father, but even Tyrion could not deny he did a lot to increase the power and prestige of House Lannister. Using the strategy his father would have used if he was still alive seemed like a very good idea right now.
"I believe my aunt is right. But I would rather not have us just stay under the Rock while we let events unfold outside. We have two armies, one at the Golden Tooth and another at Deep Den. We can't have them staying where they are for too long. Stannis will keep chasing Robb Stark until he's defeated. He cannot and he won't let another contender escape him. Besides, he needs the Riverlands if he is ever to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. He cannot be king only with the forces of the Stormlands and the Crownlands, not after the losses he suffered at King's Landing." He extended his hand and seized the lion that rested on a fortress along the Goldroad. "Ser Addam Marbrand will march on the capital and retake it. We have a king, but I think he should rather have the Iron Throne. Stafford and Daven will keep the west of the Riverlands and march again on Riverrun the moment Robb Stark or Stannis is defeated to deal with the survivor. As for the Tyrells, they will neutralize the troops Stannis sent in the Reach, then deal with Storm's End. I think they should also send us reinforcements for the attack on King's Landing."
He looked to his wife while saying the latter. "I'll write to my father. It won't be a problem," she said. Her eyes told him he had all her support.
"Good. As of Dorne, they remain uninvolved in this war and I doubt it will change."
"Any danger for your niece?" Genna asked, on a very well hidden accusing tone.
"Prince Doran has no reason to break our alliance. We still have the most powerful army and navy, and now that Robb Stark and Stannis are at each other's throat, it is even less likely he will side with them.
"What about the Vale, my lord?" Ser Barristan asked. "The knights of the Vale are strong warriors. For now, they haven't taken part to this war, but now that Robb Stark is in danger, they might decide to join him."
Tyrion had thought about this as well. "This is a good point, Ser Barristan, but I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about the Vale of Arryn. Lysa Arryn seems determined to stay in her tower with her son. Let's hope it remains that way until the war comes to an end."
"I met Lysa Arryn before her husband's death," Margaery intervened. "She is overprotective of her son, but she was also… I'd say she wasn't sane when we last met. Ser Barristan, you saw her on a daily basis for years. What's your opinion of Lady Arryn?"
"She is… I must agree that she was very protective of her son, with a tendency to see enemies and danger where there were none. As to what she will do, I don't know. If Jon Arryn was still alive, then no doubt the Vale would already have joined the fray."
"But Jon Arryn is dead. There's no point in wondering what would have happened if he was there. I guess the best we can do is pray that the Vale stays out of the war, for all the good it can do. Now, another problem. The Iron Islands."
"I would advise you to neutralize the Greyjoys as quickly as you can, my lord," the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard told him right away. "They are a danger for all the Seven Kingdoms. They might only be attacking the North for the time being, but sooner or later they will invade the rest of the Realm."
"For now, they are only raiding the shores of the North. They've made no move on the Westerlands or the Riverlands," Rodger Bridges said. "I think we should just let our enemies kill each other."
"It is obvious you were not here the last time the Ironborn stroke. Their attacks on the North are temporary. They will tire of taking wooden castles and burning fishing villages," Genna intervened. "Lannisport was burned the last time they rebelled. We have much more to offer for plunder than the North ever will. They will sail for the shores of the Westerlands and the Reach when the time comes."
"Is there any chance for negotiations? Balon Greyjoy might not be open for discussion, but other lords in the Iron Islands might be ready to parley. Rodrik Harlaw is one of the most powerful among them…" Creylen began.
"He is just one man among thousands who will cut your tongue the moment you say a word."
"I already tried the diplomatic path with Balon Greyjoy," Tyrion said. " It didn't work. We had no reply from him, and I doubt we will get any. The man only thinks about plundering, reviving the old way of his people. However, for now, the North appears to be his sole target. We have to thank Theon Greyjoy for the destruction of Winterfell."
And the murder of two children, Tyrion thought darkly. It was probably for the best that the former Stark ward died, for the Northerners would have made him suffer like he couldn't imagine.
He resumed. "And since the Northerners killed his last living son, Balon Greyjoy might just fix on them further. For now, it would be better to remain out of the Iron Islands. But let's keep a close eye on our coasts all the same. If the Iron Fleet ever attacks us, we must be ready."
The rest of the meeting concerned details such as food stocks for winter and the financial situation of the Rock. Despite the fact their vaults were overflowing with gold and silver, there was still the fact that as long as Stannis held King's Landing, the Crown wouldn't pay back the huge debts it contracted towards House Lannister.
When the meeting came to an end, Genna asked him to stay. Being one of the few people in Casterly Rock who could still give orders to Tyrion, her nephew complied. Margaery sent him an encouraging and compassionate gaze as she left.
"When I heard you abandoned King's Landing, I expected you would bring Jaime and Cersei with you, and her other son," she told him when they were alone.
Tyrion avoided to look at her. "You're talking about the woman who tried to kill my wife, Genna. And she tried to kill me too."
"She was your sister all the same. And there was Jaime too."
He felt a pang in the heart but refused to succumb to it. "What would Tywin Lannister have done, if someone tried to kill him and his wife both?"
Genna didn't reply immediately. "Worse than you did."
"I had no other choice. Besides, even if I had offered Cersei to follow us, I doubt she would have accepted, and wherever Cersei would be, Jaime would stand by her side. We're still lucky I managed to smuggle Tommen out of the Red Keep."
He stared at the wall where hung the tapestries of House Lannister. Their family might be large, he felt as if he was the last of the Lannisters. All his siblings were dead, and he had no children. His mind drifted away to Jaime, as it happened so often since he received news of his death. Jaime, the big brother who always protected him, the only one to not see a monster in Tyrion, who offered him presents for his name day when everyone ignored it.
"You remember I once told Tywin that you were his son and Jaime wasn't?" He looked back at her. She had a sorry expression on her face. "I'm afraid that today, I'm more certain than ever that I was right back then."
"I'm not sure if I must take it as a compliment, Genna."
She smiled ruefully. "I saw you grow up, each one of you. I quickly realized you were the only one who could keep the Lannisters where Tywin brought them and higher. I just wish we didn't have to sacrifice Cersei and Jaime on the way."
She stood up on that remark. "Don't forget about Kevan and his sons. We shouldn't abandon them," she reminded him before she was out of the room.
Tyrion remained in the room for a long time. Maybe. He didn't know. He left it in the end and spent the rest of the day dealing with political matters, small or huge. He and Margaery held court in the afternoon. He tried to be as fair as he could, and to keep his attention on the requests that were laid in front of them, but his mind drifted away, his thoughts repetitively wandering to Jaime.
Merchants complained about the additional taxes and levies they had to support. Shipbuilders complained about the lack of workforce to build the new ships they commanded. Lords complained about the men who left their farms in this time of harvest. Tyrion could perceive their dissatisfaction, their eagerness to see this war end as quickly as it began. Margaery helped him a lot. She did it the previous days, but she seemed more eager to do it now. At one point, after she saved him from a Lady Westerling who seemed to have taken upon herself to make his day a nightmare with her endless complaints, she placed a comforting hand on his own. Their eyes met. He had the impression to be married for the first time in weeks.
Before they cleared a court, a man in rags came to them. The smallfolk were always heard last, after all the people with titles, lands or gold, when it wasn't the three. Tyrion wasn't sure about his age. The misery of people sometimes disfigured them so much it could make them look ten, twenty or thirty years older than they were. There were some who didn't know how old they were themselves.
"My good lord, my good lady, I used to run a small shop where I sold fruits and vegetables from the neighboring farms. I had a son who joined your army when you marched to war against Stannis the usurper. He died in the Riverlands, at the Battle of the Kingsroad."
"We are sorry for your loss," Margaery said right away. She was always better with that kind of things. "What is your name?"
"Jorge, my good lady."
"Jorge, you have all our condolences. It is a tragedy that a father has to bury his son. I lost someone I loved not long ago. I know how you're feeling."
"Pardon me, my good lady, but you don't know. My wife…" The man struggled to speak. Sobs escaped from his lips that were loud enough for all to hear. "She was sick. Terribly sick. When we received the news of our son's death, her state got worse. She died a few days ago. And my son… he had debts. He borrowed money to pay for herbs to heal his mother. He joined your army in the hope he could pay them back when he'd come home. But when the merchant to who he owed the money heard of what had befallen him… He considered the debt was on me now. He threw me out of my shop, took everything inside for him. I have nothing left. My good lord, my good lady, please… I have nothing left. I beg you. Help me."
He was on his knees, sobbing so much that Tyrion could see the tears falling on the floor. He leaned towards Margaery.
"We both know he's not the only one in this situation. There are already cases like his in times of peace. No wonder there are more during wars."
"I know," Margaery agreed, with no more pleasure than Tyrion. "I can send him to one of my poorhouses. In the very least, he would be fed and maybe receive some clothes. Or maybe you could give him a small land he could farm. Some are probably vacant with the victims of the war."
"Not enough are left unattended. Anyway, he's no farmer and he has no family to take over the land after his death."
"Then we don't have much choice."
He looked at the man who lost everything, all because of a war he never wanted, a war Tyrion's nephew started. A war Tyrion helped him to wage, and that continued. Margaery had taken back her place in her seat. Before she could say anything, Tyrion raised the voice.
"Your son died in the service of House Lannister. I cannot bring him back, but since he sacrificed himself for my house, then we owe him, and a Lannister always pays his debts. Who is the merchant he owed money to?"
"His name is Tywin, my lord," the man in rags replied after a long hesitation. The people around in the court remained silent.
Tyrion called forward Vylarr. "Find this merchant and bring him here. I'll take care of this man's debt myself."
Tyrion already looked forward to this meeting. This might not be his father and only someone whose father named him after the Lord of Casterly Rock, but he felt it would give him great pleasure to squeeze some Tywin.
The rest of the time they held court went relatively smoothly. In the evening, Tyrion indeed took great pleasure in forcing the merchant named Tywin to give back his shop to Jorge. Since Jorge's son was illiterate, he didn't care to write a contract for the debt. Tyrion used this to declare that Jorge owed him no interest and only the amount he borrowed. Since Tywin also seized the shop and deprived Jorge from the only way he could eventually repay him back, Tyrion declared the merchant owed a compensation to the shop owner, reducing his debt further. Tyrion paid the balance, which in the end was almost nothing for a Lannister. The merchant named Tywin left furious, which made Tyrion even more content of what he did.
When the night arrived, Tyrion went to the chambers he shared with his wife for the first time since he came back to the Rock. She was already there, dressed for the night. Her back was turned on him. She was looking away in the darkness of the night.
All of a sudden, he felt that he somehow didn't belong here.
"Margaery?" he asked, afraid of her reaction.
"I must confess that I don't feel comfortable with all this."
The words hit hard. Trying to cope with them, he decided to take the best course of action he could, as much as it could pain him. "If you need more time, I can go back to my old rooms."
She turned to face him right away. "What are you talking about?" Before his uncertain gaze, her expression of misunderstanding changed. "Oh, sorry. No, you can stay. I was thinking about the Iron Islands."
Relief flooded his mind and heart. He went to the table to pour himself a glass of wine. "What's troubling you?"
"We will not have any problem dealing with Robb Stark or Stannis." She seized his glass of wine and put it away before he could take a single sip. Maybe he should have used their time of estrangement to drink more finally. "Even if the Vale was to join the war, we could face their knights. But the Ironborn are something entirely different. They always strike when we expect them the least. I wasn't there when they burned the fleet of Lannisport, but I heard more than enough stories to imagine what it was, and the cruelty of the Ironborn is well known in the Reach. I don't want to take the risk to have Lannisport or Oldtown sacked by these men. We know what they've done to Winterfell. I don't want to see what they could do to entire cities, and especially not the one at our feet."
Their gazes met. Tyrion knew what she meant. He saw the harbor of Lannisport in fire, and he smelt it too, entire buildings burned to the ground, hundreds of sailors devoured by fire, the stench of death that reached even those safe behind the walls of Casterly Rock. He didn't want to live this again.
"We have more than enough ships to take the Iron Islands. With the united fleets of Lannisport, the Arbor, Oldtown and the Shield Islands, we have the necessary power to destroy the Iron Fleet," Margaery added.
"We have the ships required, I agree, but the moment we launch an invasion on the Iron Islands, all their men in the North will come back and Robb Stark will no longer be bothered by them. He might even call a new army if the Northerners are no longer busy fighting the Greyjoys," Tyrion said.
"What if Robb Stark was no longer our enemy?"
Tyrion frowned at this. "What do you mean?"
"Joffrey, Cersei and Jaime are dead. What reasons left does he have to fight us?"
"We are of the same family, whether we like it or not. Remember we promised them to save Ned Stark and we didn't. Even if he doesn't consider us guilty, he will keep fighting because two kingdoms put a crown on his head."
"But he has no kingdom. He's cut from the North while the Ironborn ravage it, Winterfell was burned to the ground and now Stannis is doing the same with the Riverlands. You said it yourself, Robb Stark is heading for Riverrun. Soon his kingdom will be limited to a castle and a few acres around. Stannis defeated him on the battlefield, he's lost half his men."
"My lady, I think you'll find the Northerners are honorable and stubborn by nature, and their honor make them even more stubborn."
She displayed half a smile. "You really think I don't know that. Remember I've got one of them as a handmaiden."
Tyrion chuckled slightly, but his wife resumed quickly. "What if we could convince Robb Stark to rally our side? The only thing he may have against Tommen is that he's Joffrey's brother. Aside from that, he would have all good reasons to side with us. We can help him defeat Stannis, take back the North, invade the Iron Islands to make them stop raiding his lands. We have his sister. Mira brought them back Arya. And unlike Stannis, he is not after the Iron Throne."
The idea was tempting, but Tyrion shook his head and looked to the ground. "We already tried to make peace with the Starks. You remember how it ended?"
He looked back to her just in time to see her close her eyes. She knew what he said was true. "Yes, but Joffrey and Cersei were still alive back then."
"And Robb Stark believed Joffrey was the bastard son of Cersei and Jaime. He won't change his mind about Tommen. And even if he was ready to give up his crown, which is very unlikely, his bannermen might not want him to. Worse, if he was ready to give up his title of king, they might just turn on him. There are many lords in the North who would like to see the fall of House Stark. We both know it very well."
She said nothing. From the very beginning of the war, even before Ned Stark died, they had talked about ways to dispose of Robb Stark and weaken his army if it came to war. They had taken steps to turn some of his bannermen against him if need be.
"I would rather avoid unnecessary bloodshed if I could, Margaery, but I'm afraid it's unavoidable. Robb Stark and Stannis Baratheon will fight, one of them will be defeated and most certainly die, and we'll destroy the one who's left. That's the path with the least risk."
"And then?" She asked this defiantly.
"And then?" He repeated the question, unsure of what she meant.
"Once both Stannis Baratheon and Robb Stark are dead, what will we do? Tommen will sit on the Iron Throne, all the other contenders will be dead, but how is he going to rule the Seven Kingdoms? We can take control of the Stormlands very easily, but what about the North? Do you see someone else than a Stark as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North? Do you really think another house, be it from the North or the south, will be able to keep the North united?"
"No," Tyrion replied after a moment.
"We have all the good reasons in the world to have the Starks on our side. It could even reduce the probability for the Vale to resist. You know I am right."
He sighed. "I agree, but I do not see how we can convince Robb Stark to bend the knee to Tommen."
"We lose nothing by trying."
"Even if we tried, there is no one I know who could convince him. Even a Northerner could not."
"True, a Northerner would not succeed. But I'm not a Northerner."
For a moment, he didn't understand. And then in an instant, he understood what she meant, and that from her expression of her face she was really serious.
"No, you can't do this."
"If I leave tomorrow, I should reach Riverrun around the time Robb Stark will be there."
"I cannot let you go there. The last time you went on a diplomatic mission, you almost died."
"The Starks have too much honor to harm someone riding under a peace banner. And this time I will not be riding with one of Cersei's lackey ready to stab me in the back on the first opportunity."
"The Starks, maybe, but not their bannermen, and not Stannis. What if he sends another one of these shadows?"
He couldn't let her go again. He couldn't let her put her life in danger another time. He couldn't be separated from her. The last time almost caused their relationship to crumble. He almost lost her in all ways.
"Then send a strong escort with me if you're so afraid. Or are you going to stop me from going?"
Again, she defied him. And like always, she succeeded. Tyrion couldn't bring himself to refuse her. He could refuse to her family, to House Tyrell, but not to his wife, not on a personal demand.
"What makes you think you can reason Robb Stark?"
"I spent a lot of time at Winterfell while you were visiting the Wall. I know Robb Stark better than you do. I took care of his brother Bran and his mother when they were injured. He is more likely to trust me than you. And even if he doesn't trust me, there's Catelyn. I have good ties with her. It was my handmaiden who brought Arya back to them. Even Edmure Tully appreciated me when we spent time at Riverrun. And Jon Snow appreciated you as well. I think I can convince his family to influence me."
It was true. Margaery was very good at pleasing everyone, men and women. Everyone loved her, Tyrion the first.
"This is our best chance," she concluded.
She gazed at him. She wouldn't change her mind.
"Do you really want to do this?"
"Yes." She crossed her arms. "Will you lock me up somewhere? Tell our guards to keep your wife in her rooms? Make her a prisoner in her own castle?"
Her lips showed a playing smile, but Tyrion couldn't help but feel as if he was a horrible husband, even that hadn't been her intent.
"I could never do that to you, especially not after what happened to your brother."
Her expression turned immediately sourer. Slowly, she approached him and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault what happened. I cannot blame for loving your brother."
She seemed to be holding something back, but whatever it was, Tyrion didn't care. "I'll send five hundred men with you, and that you cannot refuse."
She chuckled shortly. Kneeling, she took his face between her two hands. "I wouldn't dream of it." She kissed him. "Why don't we just enjoy the rest of the night?"
Smiling wickedly, she led him in direction of the bed, until Tyrion jumped on her when they were close enough. They both laughed and kissed once more, their tongues battling. Tentatively, her hand crept up his chest to his collar where she proceeded to slowly untie his doublet. In the meantime, his hands caressed he surface of her pale skin right under her neck, barely brushing her breast and the zones her nightgown didn't cover entirely. She removed his doublet and his shirt while he took out her nightgown, discovering her body from waist to head, his mouth traveling down in the process, gasps and sighs emanating from them both. What was left of their clothes was removed not long after. The room resonated with the sounds of their lovemaking for the best part of night, moments of passion alternating with periods of light sleep that were interrupted as soon as one decided to wake the other to start all over again, or when one began to please the other in his state of half sleep. When dawn came, Tyrion wanted to curse the gods, if they existed, for not making the night longer, even though he was exhausted and spent like he didn't experience it in a very long time.
I hope you liked the reconciliation.
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Next chapter : Sansa
