"The city is surrounded by sandstone and brick walls with round towers and a square gatehouse." Sansa listened with rapt attention as Kevan described Lannisport.
"Lannisport is a great city. We Lannisters take great pride in its upkeep. Our ancestors helped to make the city what it is now," Tywin interjected.
"Your pride in the city is well known, Lord Tywin. If King's Landing could one day become even a shadow of Lannisport, that would be enough for my lifetime."
"I've never liked this city, my lady. It is larger than Lannisport but there has always been a foul stench smelt for miles before even entering the city proper. As well there is the overpopulation and a lack of safety, despite the efforts of the City Watch, that have shown not much planning was put into designing what is supposed to be the seat of the royalty of Westeros."
Sansa hummed in agreement. "My father tried to fix the problems here but things like the Greyjoy Rebellion and other issues all seemed to get in the way. Father eventually put the improvement of the city on hold in order to focus on keeping the realm together."
"We're a proud lot in the West. We love our towns and city, unlike here. Everyone seems to hate it here. Nobody is willing to help one another unless forced to. Greed rules this place." Kevan said.
"I find myself agreeing with you, my lords but let's not bother ourselves with it anymore at dinner."
"I beg your pardon, Your Grace but I feel myself stuck. Since you'll be marrying my father, should I keep calling you by your title? Or should I call you mother? I do not mean anything by it, Your Grace but I am older than you…" Tyrion trailed off jovially.
Sansa giggled softly. Kevan scowled at him, willing him to behave, while Tywin was suddenly in a murderous mood.
Puffing up his chest in indignation, "I told you Tyrion. She will be your new lady mother…"
Sansa interrupted Tywin by placing her hand over his. "It's quite alright, Tywin. He can call me whatever he wants as long as he's respectful. Although, I would like you all to be informal with me when we're not in the throne room and there's just family around."
"He's always assuming people are like him. That they will welcome his japes and clever remarks all the time. Laughing and japing without stopping," Tywin said shaking his head.
"I don't mind having fun. My personal time is limited because of the needs of the realm, so I can appreciate Lord Tyrion's attempts at levity."
Tyrion shot his father a triumphant look. "See father, dear Sansa did not find me boring, unlike you."
"On the contrary, Lord Tyrion. I enjoy talking to your father. He's an intelligent man with many years of ruling behind him, which I'm more than willing to learn. Together we will rule the realm, and hopefully keep it at peace." Sansa gave Tywin a beatific smile as she finished.
Tywin suddenly felt his heart pick up speed at the smile Sansa directed at him, as well the squeezing his hand by hers.
…
The smell of the sea was everywhere. The floors were constantly wet and sunshine hardly reached the castle.
Those were Lord Aegon Targaryen of Dragonstone's feelings about his seat most of the time he gazed upon it. Though he preferred to be called Jon by those close to him. He stood on the walls of Dragonstone. "Come on Ghost. We have a long day ahead of us." Jon gestured to his direwolf to follow him.
He wore a black and silver doublet decorated with a dragon sigil. He was young with a handsome face and black curls, and a lean but muscular physique, making him look like a maiden's fantasy. And he supposed he was, considering his heritage.
Some days Jon felt ashamed to be grandson of the Mad King, and a descendant of centuries of incestuous marriages.
The gods had given the Targaryen's a new opportunity, a new chance at life through Jon. Or at least that's the feeling he got from his Uncle before he'd died. Even though, after all the madness my father's family made the realm endure under their rule, we don't deserve the throne let alone keeping our ancestral seat. I will do what I can to protect the realm from any future Targaryen madness. Sansa will be a good queen, a better ruler. I'm sure of it.
Shortly after his Uncle's death, he'd become Lord of Dragonstone. The late king had finally told his wife about Jon's secret heritage, and after his death she'd told him who his parents really were. It was the only good thing she'd done since her husband died. Although, he was more than aware it was done because she was afraid of the threat he posed to her children's inheritance. No doubt she figured if he had a castle and vassals of his own, his eyes wouldn't turn toward the Iron Throne.
Once inside the castle Jon sought out its steward. He had plans to make.
"Salem, bring me a map of the castle."
"Yes, my lord," answered a short balding servant. Several moments later the man returned with a map and followed Jon as he wanted his assistance as he examined it.
He settled in The Chamber of the Painted Table with the afore mentioned map trying to figure out how he could make the walls of Dragonstone like Winterfell's which could spread warmth and heat through out the castle proper using a system of pipes connected the castle's hot springs. Could something similar possibly be done with steam vents created by the island's volcano?
Jon huffed and murmured to Salem, "How did they even lived during the harsh winters in this castle?"
"The Targaryens had dragons in the past and were more hotblooded than most, they had no need of hot walls to feel warm. Allegedly, Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wife Queen Rhaenys did their duty beside a dragon believing that it would strengthen their line."
Jon was disgusted on hearing that. "Another reason for their near demise. They were mad people indeed."
"Perhaps, but it is you that will make people forget the past. They will judge you, obviously, on every single mistake you make because your House's sins have made them hated by many. The best thing you can do is learn from their mistakes and make Westeros a better place because of it."
Jon shook his head. "I never thought I would be a lord. My whole life I was known as Ned Stark's bastard son. Everyone, aside from my uncle and cousins either avoided me or treated me like I was scum. A stain on the King's honor. Lady Catelyn might have known the truth deep down but she wouldn't treated me better anyway. I was still the grandson of the man who burned her former betrothed and goodfather; not to mention being considered a threat to her children's inheritance."
Jon's eyes flashed in anger as he looked at Salem. "Tell me. How was any of that my fault? I was just a child. I didn't ask to be born. I may be trueborn in the end but my parents married in secret, not daring to tell the world openly about their union. My father was married to two women at the same time, a feat not done since Aegon the Conqueror. Worse, it wasn't done in the same manner. He left his first wife after she'd finally given birth to an heir, then let everyone believe that he abducted my mother, taking her as a mistress rather than a second wife."
"I loved my uncle Ned deeply, my mother as well, but their mistakes led to irreparable catastrophes."
…
Sansa woke up the next morning earlier than usual. Normally she woke up just as the soon was rising, but today it was still the hour of the bat. She sat up in bed a moment before putting her feet on the slightly cold floor. After a while of trying to figure out exactly what was keeping her awake at this hour, she decided to that maybe a walk outside her royal chamber would help her find relaxation.
Opening the door she found her loyal knight, Ser Erwin, in a deep slumber. Sansa debated waking him before deciding against it. The Keep was safe enough to take a small stroll. Aware she was dressed only in her shift, she donned a robe and a shawl to cover her head and neck. Only minutes into her stroll Sansa heard voices conversing in hushed tones. She wondered if it was the servants talking to stay alert at such an early hour. After all, who else would be awake at such an hour?
As she turned a corner suddenly someone grabbed her around the shoulders and pressed a dagger to her throat. They couldn't see each other well because of the darkness. "Who are you? And why you wandering near the Queen's chambers alone at this hour?" the dagger wielder, whispered menacingly.
Sansa flinched at the tone of voice until realization hit her. Tywin Lannister! Sansa almost let out a groan. What an awkward situation to find one's self in. She wondered if she could get away with not speaking, only to swiftly decide against it. He was holding a dagger at her throat after all. Better to get it over with.
"Ahh...," Sansa licked her suddenly dry lips, "Tywin it's me, Sansa..." Tywin immediately withdrew his dagger.
"Sansa, I thought you some thief or cutthroat skulking around the keep undetected. Why are you walking around unaccompanied? It is much too dangerous for a monarch to be wandering around alone, even in their own keep. Where's Ser Erwin Black?"
Sansa face flushed at the reminder of her foolishness. Though her cheeks burned as she remembered she was only wearing a shift under her robe.
"He's resting, my lord. I didn't want to bother him for a brief stroll through the keep."
Tywin let out a frustrated sigh. "Nevertheless, you never know what's out in the darkness."
Sansa thanked him awkwardly for his concern. "You're awake yourself at this hour, Lord Tywin. May I ask why?"
"It's been a habit of mine since my youth. I like to start work early. So, in the evening I can sleep early too." Sansa nodded not knowing what to say.
"Umm... well I think I should go back to my chambers."
"Allow me to escort you, Sansa."
Sansa flushed again tightening her grip on the shawl. Oh, why are the gods so cruel? "Thank you, Tywin."
They walked together to her royal chambers, an uncomfortable silence accompanying them. When Sansa arrived back, Ser Erwin was still asleep as if nothing had happened. I'm really stupid! The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms walking alone! She scolded herself. And why am I talking like some misbehaving youth with Lord Tywin?
"Have a pleasant day, Sansa." She raised her eyes to meet his but wasn't sure how to respond. They stared at each other for a while until Sansa broke eye contact thanking him and bidding him a pleasant day as well as she retreated to her rooms.
…
The brothel appeared to be a place that was of the 'reputable' sort. It was richly adorned with exquisite tapestries, curtains and works of art. Littlefinger was sitting behind a desk in his personal office when the door of the office flew open and a cloaked figure rushed inside.
"They're announcing the betrothal tomorrow."
"Everything I did to get close to her, and she easily accepts a marriage to the Old Lion? Both ridiculous and insulting."
"It seems he found his way into her bed before you could," said the cloaked figure with a smug tone.
Baelish observed the other man with narrowed eyes. "Are you certain? They've not married yet. I never took Cat's daughter for such a lady."
"No, but some servants claimed they saw them together in the halls of the keep before dawn...it's an idea."
"Hmmm. If I got the whores to tell every customer who comes by about this… the betrothal could be annulled. Or at the very least it would cast shame on the Queen. Let's see where this will get us," Baelish smiled.
…
"Please, pretty please mother. Let Ser Davos take me to King's Landing," Shireen Baratheon pleaded. She a maiden of 18 years. She would have been considered a beauty if not for the greyscale scars on the left side of her face, the remanence of an ailment she'd caught and survived as a babe.
"Uncle Renly said I could go if you allowed me."
"Your Lord father would be angry Shireen, if I let you go without telling him, and I don't have the time nor the energy to face his wrath," sniffed Lady Selyse Baratheon.
"My lord father will be happy to see me, especially if I arrive safe and sound. Isn't that right, Ser Davos?" Shireen looked to Ser Davos for back up.
"Yes, yes my lady. I'll be with you all the way on this journey." Despite his words sweat gathered at Davos' brow. He was also afraid of his liege lord's wrath but he couldn't say no to Shireen. He loved her like she was his own daughter. I hope I'm not mistaken and Stannis will be delighted to see his daughter after so long apart.
Selyse eyed Ser Davos with a severe expression of disapproval. "Ser Davos, you heard Lady Shireen. You will be responsible for her wellbeing on this journey."
In reality Lady Selyse didn't much care for her daughter. She never had actually. She had hoped to give Stannis a son to carry on his and her legacy, instead she'd given him a daughter to inherit Storm's End after she'd miscarried more times than she count, and just wished her lord husband would stop looking at her as a failure.
"Oh thank you, lady mother!" Shireen gave a squeal of delight.
"Lady Shireen, the voyage to King's Landing will commence on tomorrow."
"I'll bring some books with me to continue teaching you how to read and write. That way won't be bored on the trip," said an enthusiastic Shireen.
Ser Davos wanted to hug the girl for her thoughtfulness but knew better than to do so in front the lady of the keep. So, he just beamed at Shireen to let her know he appreciated the gesture.