Hey all, I've edited some of the past chapters (1 and 5) adjusting the pacing and some grammar issues. Feel free to do a re-read!

Jaymar

"Something else I can do for you, my Prince?"

"Ehm... no, thank you." The boy answered awkwardly. Jaymar could understand his sentiments, suddenly becoming a prince could be a shocker.

"If you need any assistance, don't bother asking. I'll be keeping guard outside." He informed Gendry.

Jaymar bowed and left the room. He still needs to get used to the fatigue of standing still for hours, not that he couldn't handle it.

King Robert has been odd as of yesterday. His usual boisterous self was already subdued after the incest debacle, but his silence was now... unsettling. He spent most of his time brooding and thinking deeply. Sometimes, he mumbled of something he had to tell the Hand.

Jon Arryn was quite busy as of late, constantly overseeing the establishment of new properties of the crown outside of King's Landing. Ser Willem Butler always accompanied the Old Falcon. Give him some more time, and he'll become his shadow.

Jaymar stood in silence for some time, until he could hear the faint footsteps of a man. Bald, plump, and sly... it was the Spider.

"Good evening, Ser Jaymar."

"Seven be praised. What brings you here, Lord Varys? Do you seek an audience with the Prince?"

The Lyseni shook his head, "Not really, I wanted to discuss with... you."

Jaymar raised an eyebrow, "And why would I rouse your interest?"

The Spider studied his demeanour, "It is quite simple, my good Ser. A boorish knight of no name, rising through the ranks of the kingdom in no time, ending up at the King's side..."

Varys chuckled, "You're one lucky fellow... aren't you?"

Jaymar couldn't understand what the Spider intended to extrapolate from him. From his behaviour, to his riddles... this man was very dangerous.

Alongside Lord Baelish, they were the two men with no clear agenda in the small council. King Robert has been wary of the two: Varys for his ignorance of the incest and Petyr for his strange movements. Jaymar was sure of one thing: these two could topple a kingdom with their minds alone.

The Northman decided to remain stoic to the Spider's offensive, "You're not wrong. A Septon said the Maiden blessed me."

Varys started circling him, "These recent... occurrences, morphed the Game of Thrones. One before could compare it to a game of Cyvasse, but now... it's a chaotic battlefield."

"Even the most logical stratagem becomes uncertain, its reliability distorted by some rogue variables..." He stopped in front of Jaymar, "You, my good Ser, are one of them. A player, who instead of moving their pieces, decides to flip the table."

Then, the spider stared at his soul.

"Who... are you?"

With that phrase, Varys showed his first hint of emotion. The man seemed stressed, as if his plans hadn't gone accordingly these last times.

Jaymar smirked, "Just a normal knight, my Lord. A humble servant of the Seven."

The air between the two thickened, the Spider's strain worsening. They stood in silence for a painful minute. Only when Varys looked away, the spell broke.

"You're an interesting man, Swayne. Do not overextend your ambition, though, or you may meet an abrupt end."

Jaymar shrugged, "Play whatever the fuck you want. I'm not interested in your subterfuges... as long as the King is not in danger."

Jaymar looked into his eyes, "If you think you can scare me off with threats, you're very wrong, my Lord. I believe King Robert wouldn't mind an additional head decorating the outer walls."

The Spider, however, did not falter, keeping his façade, "You're quite bold, I see..."

The eunuch turned his tail, leaving the corridor. "Damn Northerners... stark as their lords..." He muttered.

Scheming bastard, Jaymar thought, a dangerous one, nonetheless.

However, the fact that the Spider is exposing himself means he's exhausting his cards, limiting his scope of action. The masks are starting to fall, it seemed.

Jaymar returned to his post to protect his prince. However, a strained Arys Oakheart ran towards him, his breath ragged.

"Jaymar! Good thing you're here!" The Reachman said, "There's trouble outside of the keep!"

"Arys! Who's causing trouble?"

"Zealots... they're led by the High Septon. The mob is trying to breach the gates!"

Fuck, here we go again.

Tyrion

Tyrion and Kevan waited before his father's room. "Just one moment, my Lords!" Maester Creylen said from inside.

After a minute, Creylen opened the door, "Lord Tyrion, Lord Kevan. Lord Tywin is awake. Come inside."

The two stepped inside the chambers, and Tyrion cringed as he saw Father's missing eye. He had a look of resignation, Tyrion had never seen Father so crestfallen.

Before Tyrion could ask anything, Father spoke up, "Everyone leave, except you two."

Creylen seemed insecure, but still obliged. All retainers and courtiers left the chambers, leaving the three Lannisters alone. Father stared at the two, his eyes slowly drifting afar.

"I have never been so thoroughly... humiliated."

He sighed, "What have I done, to anger the Gods? Everything I did was for the best of our family... and yet..."

The two stood stunned at his father's hopelessness: Tywin Lannister, the great lion of the Rock, beaten and defeated. Tyrion would've never thought ever to see his father in such a state.

Anger seeped in his voice, "Monsters... from the deepest pit of the Seven Hells. We stood no chance against them."

Tyrion paled. Is that what Loreon meant by watching the coast? "Father... of what monsters are you talking about?"

"Fish people." He finally said, "They came from the sea. They bore harpoons and other strange weaponry, it was a host of a hundred."

Kevan paled, "Gods..."

"The Deep Ones...?" Tyrion whispered.

His father rose from his bed, "Do you know something of them?" He asked. Tyrion nodded, "And where did you acquire this information?"

"It's best you see it yourself, Father. Can you stand?"

"Yes."

Kevan spoke up, "I need to take care of some issues in Lannisport. I'll come back later."

The three left the Lord Paramount's chambers, Tyrion accompanying his father to the secret library while uncle Kevan went his way.

Now they stood before the secret entrance, Father studying it with care.

"How did you discover this secret wing?" He asked.

Tyrion smiled, "Nothing truly special. I only communed with the son of Lann Lannister inside a dream."

Father stared at him, dumbfounded. "You'll need to explain it better later, I believe."

The room looked just like when Tyrion had left it before. It was vast, there were so many bookcases that it was impossible to find a foot of barren wall. At least now it was barely lit, giving it an ominous glow.

The Mysteries of the Worm was closed on the large pedestal, surrounded by candles.

"The Mysteries of the Worm...?" His father said, "I presume this is where you found everything."

Tyrion nodded, "Aye, it's a respectable collection of the occult. Give it a read, if you wish."

The Lannister patriarch opened the book, browsing the pages. "What... is all of this?"

"Spells, rituals... there's much to explore of this tome. I've barely scratched the surface, I haven't even tried to replicate them."

Father narrowed his eyes, "Here it is. The Deep Ones."

Tyrion approached the Lord of the Rock, "Alas, most of the information gathered is taken from ancient accounts of low credibility, as these creatures predate even the author. We know nothing of their motives, nor agendas."

Father nodded, "Everything written here is... correct." He sighed, "Then we must consider all the rest truthful."

Tywin's grasp on the book tightened, "To say magic would return during my lifetime... alongside its turbulences."

Father continued reading, finally reaching the dreaded last pages. "What... nonsense is this?"

Tyrion could already feel uneasy, "I know not. These pages are cursed, Father. I advise you not to-"

Father's eye widened as he saw that damn drawing. "Gods..."

There was a sudden noise behind them, startling both. A book fell from a shelf... this was no ordinary timing.

The candles all extinguished. Winds blew from nowhere, making the two fall to the ground.

Tyrion stood up, frantically scanning his surroundings. He panicked as he began seeing figures in the darkness...

Faces.

Tyrion moved closer to his father, who was probably seeing the same things as him. Suddenly, the monsters began... laughing.

It was just a giggle at first, but as time passed, it blew out as a great guffaw.

"TYRION! CLOSE THE DAMN BOOK!" His father shouted.

Tyrion didn't even question his father's order, as he dashed towards the book. He hastily closed it, uncaring of ruining the parchment inside.

The voices stopped at once, the room becoming silent once more.

"The Mother be merciful... what was that?" Tywin asked, while getting up.

"As I've said before, this book is cursed... I know not by who." Tyrion sighed, "Still, we need it anyways. No other tome has proven itself valuable as this one."

Tyrion waddled towards the fallen book from before. He picked it up, and read the title, "The Great Tree of Ygg? What is that?"

Father was pondering at the question, "Hmm... I think I heard it from somewhere..." He then nodded, "Yes... when we disembarked at Orkmont during the Greyjoy Rebellion, there was a strange man before a great tree, deep in the woods. He murdered many villagers of the nearby towns, offering them as sacrifices for his twisted belief. We gutted him down, and he began muttering this name as he bled to death."

Tyrion nodded, "An Ironborn legend, then. At least it will be an entertaining read."

He turned towards his father, "Should we go?"

Father regained his previous composure, "Yes. But before, there's something you should know."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "And what it may be?"

"There's one thing that didn't go wrong that night..."

In one of those rare moments, Tywin Lannister smiled.

"...We caught one of them."

"Gods... this will come to our advantage!" Tyrion answered, "May I see it?"

"Come."

The two descended the steps of Casterly Rock. Father stored the creature in one of the deepest levels of the castle, near the gold mines.

"We figured the beast may need water to survive, so we used a flooded room as his cell. It's isolated from the rest of the complex, there's no threat of escape from there."

Tyrion nodded. Father changed, that's for sure. Most men do when face to face with a life-threatening danger. He was happy to be adequately treated as heir to Casterly Rock.

"So, all this arrangement is to-"

"Bring the dastardly beast to King's Landing, yes. We need it alive to make our warnings heard, we need to shock the court. The capital has always been a nest of vipers, only an eye-opener can momentarily stop all the plotting."

They reached a door guarded by two unnerved guards, wails of anguish coming from the room before them.

"You two have done a good job. Go relieve yourselves, and call for the second watch."

The two men appeared thankful, and left the corridor hastily.

Father looked towards Tyrion, "Prepare yourself, it's an ugly thing."

He opened the door. The room was divided in half by steel bars, one was dry and the other flooded. There was no movement inside the makeshift cell, until a sudden splash erupted, wetting the two Lannisters.

"Seven be merciful... they're even worse than the illustrations," Tyrion said incredulously.

Father's description was quite on par with the real thing. Blue skin, wide jaw with sharp teeth, frog legs, no hair or nose. Tyrion felt unnerved as the creature's pitch-black eyes stared back at him.

"The bastards eat the corpses of their victims. I wouldn't even exclude the possibility of them being cannibals." Father said.

"So, this is who we will be fighting..." Tyrion began pondering his thoughts, "No matter the size of their host, we need the might of the east. We should depart for King's Landing as soon as possible."

Father nodded, "I see you understand how dire our position is. We can assemble a respectable force, but from what I've seen that day... this is but the start."

The monster began screaming in its godsforsaken language, full of venom and hatred. Tyrion picked up a nearby staff, and whacked the dastard's head.

"May the Gods give us strength... we'll definitely need it."