He pulled on the oars, gently propelling the small boat around the edge of the underground lake. It was eerily quiet, with a faint golden light coming down from the entrance to the chamber leading to the small lake and a blue light filtering in from the other side, where the caverns led out to the sky. As he approached the final bracket, he let his oars rest before taking his fiery torch, resting in a cradle at the back of the boat, and lit the torch in the bracket. Along with the other eight, it was enough to shimmer the lake in a faint amber, glinting off the black water. He put his torch back and looked into the water. With the light right above he could see through the water like it was glass, right down to the bottom of the lake, where stones and weeds nestled together, peaceful and undisturbed. Next he turned the boat with a few deft flicks of the oar and pulled it through the water towards the small isle in the middle. To call it an isle was generous, he knew, it was no more than a small jutting spar of rock, a few feet across, but it was enough. When the boat touched upon the isle, Loren got out and reached out for the chest he had brought with him and depositing it on the isle. Nodding to himself, he stepped back into the boat and started heading back to the entrance to the cavern, where a heavy oak door stood between him and the stairs leading back up to Casterly Rock. When he got there he tied the boat up again and stretched his now aching arms, waiting for his guest.
He didn't have to wait long, as he heard the iron handle turn and the door opened. Lelia entered, her hair golden, flowing and free, a scarlet dress covering her from her neck to her ankles. "Father?" She asked, confused. "You summoned me?"
He nodded, smiling. "I did," he said, looking his daughter over. "It's been a long time, far too long since we had some time alone, so I thought that, since you didn't have any lessons today, we could go for a swim."
Lelia's eyes widened in excitement. "You mean..." she looked at the isle and saw the chest waiting on it. She gasped and through herself at him, wrapping herself around him tightly. "Yes!" She whispered triumphantly. "You mean it?"
"Of course I do," he said, prizing her off him. "You don't think I'd go to all the trouble of preparing the cave if I didn't mean it."
"But, Lord Tywin."
"Isn't here," he reminded her. "I am Lord of Casterly Rock in his absence, and I say, we are going to swim."
Excitement danced in her eyes as she looked hungrily at the lake. Lelia had always been drawn to the water, some liked to call her a mermaid or nymph and it was a more apt nickname than calling most Lannisters lions. Lord Tywin disapproved, so he permitted it, encouraged it even, more than he should have. She reach up and started unlacing her dress. "Did mother tell you that I tried to swim out after you when you left?"
"She did," he said, turning away as Lelia shimmied out of her heavy scarlet dress, leaving herself in only a full length blood red chemise. He wasn't blind to the fact that his eldest daughter had developed in his absence, and even more so since his return. Given that he'd missed all of it, it seemed like she was filling out in leaps and bounds. "I'm glad you were restrained."
"I would have caught that ship," she insisted.
Loren chuckled, "of course you would." Lelia's self confidence was impossible to dissuade.
"I'm ready, father."
He turned back to the water; sure enough she was treading water nicely, her head bobbing above the dark surface of the underground lake. He stripped down to a hair shirt and breeches and followed Lelia into the water.
"Race you to the isle?" He asked.
Lelia didn't reply, she only grinned and spun in the water, diving beneath the water and powering through towards the rocky outcrop. "Little devil!" He dived beneath the water and kicked after her.
Despite his longer reach and more powerful kick, by the time he got to the isle, Lelia was already pulling herself out, looking back and laughing as he followed her onto the rocky outcrop.
"Was I too much for you father?" She teased.
"You won't beat me next time," he challenged.
"Oh really?" She looked around the cavern. "Race you to that wall and back?" She pointed to one of the torches hanging in a bracket.
"Please, you'll never-" before he could continue she ran past him and dived, slipping neatly into the water. Chuckling, he followed her onwards.
Lelia won that race as well, but it was the last one she won through sheer skill. After that the endurance of his soldier's body began to tell, but he let himself lag behind so that she could still claim victory. It was bad parenting, he knew, but he'd start by simply being there for her for now. Imparting life lessons could come later. And then there was her smile. Lannisters were often linked, by hair and wealth, to gold, but Lelia's smile as she was in her element was the most golden thing he'd ever seen.
Eventually the two of them pulled themselves up onto the centre isle, panting and heaving. Lelia lay flat on her back, her chest rising and falling, her cheeks flushed and a triumphant glint in her eyes. He opened the small chest and pulled out two thick fur covers, tossing one over Lelia's head before wrapping one around his shoulders.
"Hey," Lelia exclaimed, pulling the blanket of her head and scowling. "Just because I beat you." She sat up and wrapped the blanket around her form as he had.
"Well, I'll get you next time."
"Then I'll keep practicing, I won't let you beat me now."
"Trust me little one, I will beat you."
"Won't."
"I will."
"No. You won't, I'm just better than you at this."
Gods, she's a wonderful little girl to have, but I pity the man who marries her. "How were you able to keep practicing?" He asked her. "Your grandfather always hated it when you swam."
"Lord Tywin doesn't know everything." She said it so simply. "I would just wait for him to be busy."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
"That's it," she grinned. "And he's always busy."
"That he is."
"Maybe I should have swum with you?" Then I might not have left.
"I'm a child, I'm meant to go and play, you're an adult, you can't just run away and play."
Except I did, I ran and played war to escape father. He shuffled closer to her. "I'm sorry, for leaving you with him. I should have stayed."
She looked up at him, the light gone from her eyes. "Yes," she said.
"Lelia," he reached over and stroked her hair softly with the back of his hand, "how... how did you feel, when I left?"
She pulled her knees up to her chest, but didn't move away. "Hurt," she said. "Angry. I know that parents must sometimes leave their children, but I still hated it."
"Sometimes I wish my father would have left when I was a child, but he always took me with him, until mother took all of us home."
"Mother looked after us when you weren't there as well."
"Mothers are clever."
"That's not true," Lelia said, turning to him. "Aunt Cersei is a mother, and she's not clever."
"Who told you that?"
"No one," she replied. By the way she looked away, he didn't quite believe her. "But look at Joffrey, how could a clever mother let him be... him?"
He nodded. "That's... a very good question."
"Now he's king, will he come here whenever he likes?"
Loren nodded slowly. "That is what kings do, but I promise you, I won't be inviting him, that little terror can stay in King's Landing and rot for all I care." He glanced down at her. "Tell anyone I said that and I'll have you flogged."
Her mouth twitched as she ran her fingers across her lips. "Never."
"Good girl," he said.
After a few moments silence, his daughter spoke. "Father, I have a question."
"Go ahead."
"It's about why you left."
Ah, okay. "Ask, I will answer."
"Why did you feel like you had to leave?"
"Did I not tell you?"
She nodded. "You did, and mother did as well. You couldn't stand it here, among house Lannister, you hated it. You hate grandfather for his dominance, and my aunt and uncles for failing to be good Lannisters. And all the other Lannisters who just fell into grandfather's shadow, and you were determined to be outside it"
"That's roughly the truth of it," he said.
"But I don't understand, I mean, you're the heir to House Lannister. One day it will be yours."
"I will," he nodded, not sure where she was going with this.
"So... why don't you change it?"
"What?"
"Why don't you change House Lannister?"
He looked at her, bewildered. "Change it?" She nodded. "How?"
She shrugged. "Well I don't know, but if House Lannister is to be yours, is yours while grandfather is away, then why don't you try and make the house what you think it should be, rather than try to escape. I mean, do you think you could make a better House Lannister?"
"I do."
"Then I don't understand why you left instead of doing that?"
"Because Lord Tywin would have just changed it back," he said.
"So, you'll live longer than Lord Tywin, you'll win in the end."
"Lelia, life isn't a contest over who lives the longest, you don't win by becoming the oldest person in the world."
"Yes you do, Lily Lace said so, she said she was the true winner because she outlived everyone."
"I'm going to have words with that woman," he muttered.
"No point," Lelia replied, lying back down, "she falls asleep when anyone else starts talking."
He laughed, remembering that particular habit of hers well.
As they fell into silence, he thought on what Lelia said. Change House Lannister, was that possible?
"Come on," he said, after a while. "We should go, before everyone wonders where we are."
"Will we come again?!"
"Would you like to?" She nodded. He leant in and kissed her brow. "Then we will."
Despite a new change of clothes, he was still damp as he made his way down the white walls of Casterly Rock, golden relief embedded in the walls. It was starting to get late and he wanted one look at the sunset from the balcony overlooking the courtyard. It was a wondrous sight, the rays of the sun laying like spears along the sunset sea from the top of a castle embedded into a mountain. But on the way to his favourite balcony, he was distracted by a sound from the courtyard.
He glanced down and smiled. Tion was alone at the training stands, raining blows down on the target from right and left. Tion had been training that morning, that he knew, but he wasn't meant to be there now, at this time he should be going to bed. He changed course and made his way down to the courtyard.
"Is it dead yet?" He asked, startling Tion who turned so fast that he stumbled.
He chuckled and held out a hand. Tion ignored it and got to his feet on his own, standing tall. "You're doing very well," he said.
Tion smiled nervously. He used to grin. "I want to be better than Uncle Jaime, Ser Benedict says to do that I must train."
"Did you not train this morning?"
Tion paused, biting his lower lip. "Ser Benedict says I must train a lot."
"He's not wrong," Loren replied. "But you won't become the best if you spend all your time hitting a stump."
"What?"
"You've proven you can hit a stump," Loren interrupted, heading over to the nearest weapon rack and selecting a training sword. He spun to his son and fell into a guarded stance. "Can you hit me?"
Tion raised his sword, holding it in a firm grip. Ser Benedict had taught him well, as expected. "I'll try."
Loren nodded. "Then attack."
Tion stepped forward and began with a simple strike, aimed to cut from shoulder to waist. Or rather it would be, if Loren was the same height, as it was the blow threatened to bruise his thigh. It was no task to put his sword in the way. He expected Tion to pull back but he stepped forward and attacked again to Loren's other side. He checked that strike that then the next and the one after. "Good!" He said, stepping back out of reach. "Very good, Tion," Loren praised, "now, again."
Loren let Tion lead the sparring session, dancing across the stone courtyard, blocking dodging and deflecting his son's attacks, seeing them get more and more erratic as the exhaustion dug deeper into his bones. He was surprised at how long Tion kept up his attacks without becoming sluggish and sloppy, but he was still a boy, and wouldn't last much longer. Eventually Tion charged with his sword raised high. Loren held up his own sword and Tion, forgetting his training, hit it with all his strength, but his grip had so little left in it that his own sword slipped from between his fingers and he stumbled.
He reached out with his free hand and caught Tion by the arm before he slammed into the ground. Loren spoke with a chuckle, "I think that's enough for one day." He helped Tion to his feet. His son could barely keep his jade eyes open. "Come on, let's get you ready for bed."
Tion didn't object as Loren took his hand and walked him back into the castle and towards his bedroom.
Servants helped Tion change and then Loren settled his son under the covers, sitting on the bed beside him. "You did well today," Loren said, stroking Tion's hair, "I'm proud of you."
"Will I be as good as uncle Jaime?" Tion asked, settling back into the bed.
"Better," Loren chuckled. "But even Jaime needs to sleep, so, time to lie back down." Tion nodded, settling into the pillows.
"Now," Loren said, getting to his feet, "do you like having the candle lit, or shall I blow it out?"
"Can you leave it on please?"
Loren nodded. "Of course," he said, leaning in and kissing Tion's brow. "No, sleep my boy, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Night," Tion breathed, tiredness already taking him over.
Loren smiled at his son before making for the door. As it clicked shut behind him, a voice made him jump.
"We need to talk."
"My lady," he turned to Alysanne who was standing against the wall, arms folded. "Have I done something wrong?"
"Among other things," he couldn't quite work out her tone, but her lips were twitching at the edge.
"Walk with me then," he said, gesturing for her to start down the corridor. As she fell in step beside him, he asked, "so what's the problem?"
"Our eldest," she replied.
"What about her?" He asked.
"I found her walking the corridors earlier, with her hair damp."
"I see," Loren replied, inwardly cursing.
"She was also happier than I have seen her in weeks," Alysanne continued, cocking an eyebrow up. "I don't suppose you happen to know why?"
He looked down at his wife and couldn't help the smile cross his features, both in guilt and joy at the memory of his afternoon. "I was trying to bond with her again."
"So you took her swimming."
"Naturally, it's what I knew she liked."
Alysanne sighed. "You know you can bond with someone by talking to them, you don't have to swim with them, or fight them."
"I was training with Tion," he corrected his wife, "and Lelia is a girl, a girl approaching womanhood, what am I supposed to talk with her about? Shoes, dresses, hair?"
"Those things are important to girls her age," Alysanne said, "just because they don't matter to you, they matter to your daughter, and so you should be willing to speak to her about them."
"Swimming is important to her as well," he said, "shouldn't you be willing to indulge her pleasure a little?"
"She is a noble lady of Lannister, how she looks is important to her standing in this world. We're in this whole mess of a war because a child doesn't look like some people think he should."
"Let's not compare Lelia to Joffrey, she doesn't deserve that."
"Don't change the subject!" Alysanne hissed, grabbing his arm and making him turn. "Lelia is not a fish, nor is she destined to be one, she needs to act like a Lannister, and Lannisters don't frolic in underground lakes."
He gently pulled his arm from his wife's fierce grip. "Alysanne."
She cut across him. "I have been trying to teach that girl to be a noblewoman befitting her stature, this won't help, now she'll just want to swim again and again. Do you know how hard it's been?"
"No," he replied coldly. "As we've made clear, I wasn't here for that, and I'm sorry, but I'm saying this is not the right way to go about it."
"How so?"
"What good does stopping her from swimming do if she can never do it? Nothing, it breeds resentment, and eventually hatred. I don't know about you, but I don't want my daughter to hate me the way I hate my father."
She was taken aback by his tone. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, now she can swim, we can threaten to take that away from her for a while if she misbehaves or falls behind in her classes. That will motivate her to work hard so she doesn't lose the privilege, and if she does work hard and gets to swim, then she'll be happier, which is better for everyone."
"I... see," she said.
He placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I should have consulted you first, I was wrong there. From now on, we work together to raise Lelia and the others, agreed?"
She looked him in the eyes and smiled. "Agreed, my lord," then after a pause, "we'll need to if we want to deal with all three of them."
He laughed. "That's true enough," he said. Being with Tion and Lelia separately was enough for one day, add in Joanna and Myrielle as well... he shuddered at the thought.
As they carried on down the corridor, he asked, "was there anything else, my lady?"
She nodded. "Yes, and it concerns the war."
"Ah, I see," he said as they approached his chambers. "Let's talk then." He opened the door and let Alysanne inside.
The war had been frustrating since his initial arrival. The ironman ability to hang tauntingly out of reach had prevented him from scoring a major victory. The Lannister fleet floated twenty three warships that were battle ready and another five that needed some servicing, not enough to strike against the hundreds of ironmen longships, of the larger vessels of the iron fleet.
The raids had dwindled at least. With lances of knights and columns of footmen patrolling the coast and garrisoning coastal villages, there was little the ironmen could do than try to slip on past. But he had other wars that had to be fought, the ironmen didn't.
"What news is there?"
"Reports from Lord Farmen," she said, holding up a raven scroll. "The ironmen attacks on fair isle are increasing, his men are struggling to repel the near daily raids now, and soon parts of the island may be held by the reavers, his smallfolk are suffering, and his castle won't hold if put to assault by the ironmen."
"Fair Isle," he murmured. The island hovered off the coast of the Westerlands, with the Lannister fleet so weak it must seem like a ripe peach, easy picking for the raiders.
"Indeed, scouts from Kayce report that longships regularly circle the isle, and some seem to be beaching on the isle at night before sailing off again in the morning."
He nodded, sitting down and thinking. There was an opportunity here, an opportunity hiding under ruin and risk, but possibly, his chance to pay the ironmen back.
"You have a plan, don't you?" She said, looking at him.
"Not yet," he said. Thoughts were there, forming like figures in the fog, but no plan, not yet.
"An inkling of one?" She pressed.
He nodded. "Yes, an inkling, nothing more."
She sat down opposite him, resting her elbows on the desk and lacing her fingers together. "So, tell me, perhaps I can make these inklings into words."
He glanced at her. These inklings would require a sacrifice, there was no denying that, but if they could stop the ironmen, perhaps it would be worth it.
But it would cost him nothing to share these faint hints of plans with Aly, so he told her what he was planning for the ironmen, and together, they spoke long into the night, trying to work these inklings into a plan to defeat the ironmen.
