Tyrion strode angrily after his father. The small council meeting had just finished and Tywin was making his way to his study, if he was aware his youngest offspring was in his wake he gave no indication of it. Reaching the threshold of his private domain the Lannister patriarch entered, shutting the door firmly behind him. Too agitated to even hesitate, Tyrion flung it open.
"Why, father? Why are you doing this?"
"Make yourself clear, Tyrion."
Tywin's voice was cold and he did not deign to look up. His son made no effort to hold back his derisive snort.
"You are crippling the Reach, as you know perfectly well."
"Do not be absurd. A small increase on the tariffs paid to move certain luxury items through Crown ports will hardly cripple them. As I understand you did much diligent work to increase trade with Bravossi merchants during your time on the isle, it seems you yielded more success for the likes of Paxter Redwyne than your own king."
His father's eyes now bored into him, and Tyrion felt his resentment peak. It appeared his sire had placed him in a position where he could do no right; if the Reach did not prosper, he would be blamed for ruining an opportunity, if it did too well, it was a threat to Tywin and would be put in its place. He scowled.
"As Master of Coin I would have expected at the very least to be consulted before such a measure was brought to the council-"
"I have no interest in what you expect, were you carrying out your duties to an acceptable standard I would have no need to override you."
The sharp tone irked Tyrion and for the first time in a long time he found himself deliberately antagonistic.
"I notice there is no proposal to place a similar tax on gold or precious metals, it seems one does not have to be in the Reach to place their own interests above the crown."
His father's face remained impassive although his upper lip curled slightly.
"The king is my grandson and I am regent. Our interests are one and the same. Loyalty and legacy are all that matters, I had hoped this was a lesson you may begin to learn, it seems I was wrong. You will leave now, I have suffered enough of your insolence."
His sire bent to his correspondence. Tyrion nodded bitterly and walked away.
For the first time since his marriage, Tyrion entered his chambers with a heavy heart. He could hardly expect Margaery to be pleased at the news of the proposal to the Small Council and his wife was astute enough to be aware of the message which was being sent to herself and House Tyrell. The little Lannister's mode was further blackened when he opened he chambers to the sound of an affectedly feminine titter, accompanying his wife's own amused giggles. The scent of lavender cloyed at Tyrion's nose as the pair in his sitting room turned towards him, the warm smile of greeting on Margery's face dropping as she took in his downcast expression.
"What troubles you, my love? Some matter from the council meeting?"
Tyrion had no wish to discuss his feelings on the matter in front of the Spider, who's own countenance was a mask of sympathy. He forced a tight smile.
"Nothing that will not keep, darling."
Varys shot him a sugary smile.
"It is as well you are here, Lord Tyrion, for I fear I have been boring your charming lady wife, although she is far too gracious to admit it."
Margaery returned his simper.
"Lord Varys! I think I can safely say you are one of least boring people in King's Landing! Are you sure you won't have some more olives? Normally I have a great fondness for them so Tyrion orders scores, however in the last few days I seem to have lost my taste for them altogether."
"Is that so, my Lady? Perhaps you should try blood oranges in their place. They are not the sweetest of fruits but then you are already perfectly sweet enough."
The pair giggled and Tyrion fought the urge to roll his eyes; it was all a charade of course, and Margery and the Spider were skilled mummers but he was in no mood for a display of courtly arts. After several more desultory remarks, Varys rose from his seat, beaming at the pair.
"I think perhaps I should take my leave, Lord Tyrion clearly wishes to discuss this afternoon's council meeting in private. Lady Margaery your company has been charming, if you could ever find it in your heart to pay me a short visit, you would find me eternally grateful."
"I am sure the pleasure would be mine, Lord Varys, but did you not say you had urgent business with my husband?"
"Ah, that was something of an exaggeration on my part, it will keep, good day to you both."
With that the Spider swept from the room. Margaery turned to her husband with raised brows.
"Are you any wiser than I as to what that was about? He arrived here a short time ago, looking for you as a matter or urgency."
"Did he mention today's council meeting?"
"Only to say that he had been sure you would be coming to tell me of the events directly which was why he made haste to our chambers. What happened, husband?"
"I am afraid my father seems to have decided that it is not enough for me to be an object of his derision, he must ensure your father's bannermen share the sentiment."
Tyrion recounted the events of the council and his subsequent conversation with his sire.
Margaery met her husbands gaze and pressed her lips together.
"His mind is quite made up?"
"I would say so."
"What did the other council members have to say?"
Tyrion stroked his scar.
"Well, Pycelle is so far up my father's arse it is hard to make out what he says, Varys remained quiet but gave me a sorry look, the Kingsgaurd was represented by that dolt Kettleback who I doubt could spell tax. Of course Lord Redwyne opposed, and made it clear he is looking to me to stop this, so I can see things deteriorating between us. Strangely Oberyn voiced no objection, Dornish goods will be subject to these taxes, the red viper is a law unto himself."
Margaery squeezed his tense shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.
"If your father cannot be persuaded to renege, then you must think of a way to lessen the effects, you are a good Master of Coin, Tyrion, I am sure you can think of something."
Her look and her words warmed him inside. At the same time, Tyrion felt a small pull of guilt. As much as he resented the position his father's decree had put him in, the crown needed Coin and he wondered if he would not be betraying Tommen by seeing that the monies did not get there. He sat down heavily and pulled her to his lap.
"Shall we see if you can provide me with some divine inspiration, you heavenly creature?"
His wife's hazel eye sparkled and she chewed her lip playfully.
"Let me see… there is much talk of young Lord Swann being heavily in debt due to his fondness for dice, mayhap you should challenge him for his keep? Or all know the High Septon is a dissolute, next time I am at my devotions I am sure if I were to mention the new tax may prevent Arbour Gold being supplied to the city he would invoke the powers of the Seven in our favour. Oh! One of the merchants wives I met in Braavos mentioned in her last letter that the Sea Lord is looking to purchase several large clippers, could the king spare some of his royal fleet?"
At her last sentence Margaery was surprised to see her husband's expression shift from languid amusement to one of serious consideration. After several moments he patted her leg and looked upon her with gleaming eyes.
"Do you know I think we just might! When Lord Redwyne inspected the fleet he advised me that we could do to vary the type of ships more; have less of the large sea voyaging ships and more smaller, faster crafts which could better defend the ports. They build such ships in the Reach, so your merchants can trade inland and send goods to Lannisport and Planky Town. At the time I had to tell him there was insufficient funds to commission new ships but… If we sold some large clippers to the Braavossi it would cover the cost of building the smaller ships and still provide income to the treasury. Whilst at the same time appeasing the Lord of the Reach by providing business to their ship yards."
"I knew you would think of something! My clever husband."
Tyrion could not miss the genuine warmth and admiration in her tone, as he looked into her eyes he saw something that reminded him of the way countless young maidens had looked at his brother as he won tourney after tourney; a way he had never imagined a woman would look at him. He beamed at his spouse.
"Do not forget this idea has come about because of the alliances you made in Braavos, wife, there is one slight complication though. Varys mentioned at the small council some weeks ago the Iron Born had been amassing ships, we cannot afford to loose large ships if an attack is eminent. I will have to speak to the Spider tomorrow."
"Or I could,he has extended an invitation to me after all."
Margaery grinned as Tyrion's brows shot up towards his curly hair.
"Why not, husband? You hardly need fear for my virtue in his presence. Besides, I doubt his request I pay him a call was idle. "
"No, more likely the true reason behind his coming here today. Very well, we shall see if your famous Tyrell charm can even bewitch the inscrutable Spider. Now I suppose we should dress ourselves for another joyous and loving Lannister family dinner."
xxxxxxxxx
"Which gown, m'lady?"
Margaery glanced at her open wardrobe and considered. Often she made a point of donning green hues for these family dinners but tonight she felt her husband's house colours would be appropriate.
"The crimson shot with gold, Ana, and my rubies if you please."
Margaery sat at her dressing table, Jeyne forming intricate braids in her chestnut curls while Ana laid out her gown and jewels. The older of the two was skilled at recreating the hairstyles popular in the Reach but it often took her longer to emulate those favoured by ladies of the Westerlands. Margery and her husband were dining with Tommen, Tywin and Cersei tonight and given the day's events Margaery had decided she would appear every inch the Lannister. She thought about Tywin's proposal, and wondered viciously if the old lion had derived more pleasure from the idea of putting her family in their place or from causing trouble for Tyrion. Knowing there was little prophet in dwelling on such things, she turned her attention to her two handmaidens. The previous week an amused Tyrion had informed her that Jeyne had taken it upon herself to mend one of Bronn's shirts, which appeared to have pleased the sellsword more than he was prepared to let on. Adopting an innocent tone, Margaery turned to the black haired girl.
"So, Jeyne, was Ser Bronn satisfied with his shirt?"
Jeyne blushed and smiled.
"Remember that he is a very worldly man, Jeyne."
"yes, m'lady."
Maragery studied the girl's expression, Jeyne did not strike her as particularly flighty and she hoped the girl would not lose her head. She turned her attention to her younger maid.
"And what of you, Ana, have any handsome suitors?"
The girl turned her blue eyes to the floor.
"No, m'lady."
Jeyne smirked.
"Then why did I see you with Ser Hardyng, last night and a week passed?"
Ana's face flamed. Margaery touched the younger girl's hand.
"Ana, is this true?"
"No, m'lady."
The tone contained a petulance Margaery had never detected in the docile blonde, the eyes her young handmaiden turned to her were darker than their usual cornflower blue, appearing stormy. The older women sighed.
"Ana, you must be aware of your situation. Ser Hardyng is in line for the lordship of the Vale, if he has shown an interest in you then his intentions are not honourable."
"He has not shown an interest in me."
Margaery was aware the girl neglected to address her correctly but let it pass.
"He already has two bastard daughters. Please have a care, if you get into that sort of trouble, I won't be able to help you."
"Very good, m'lady."
Margaery held the young girl's gaze a moment longer then nodded.
"I am glad you understand, now you may leave. Jeyne can help me finish my preparations tonight."
Several hours later Margaery sat beside her husband in the Tower of the Hand, a plate of venison and a goblet of arbour gold before her. Cersei had been quick to jape merrily about the future expense of such a drink, no doubt informed of the small council business by her stooge Kettleback. Now the queen dowager fixed her good sister with a smile.
"One can only imagine what your famously tart grandmother will have to say when she hears the news, what is the point in being married to the Master of coin if one cannot influence fiscal policy?"
"My grandmother, like all in the Reach, will welcome the opportunity to serve the crown. What is the point of all our bounty if we cannot further our beloved king's interests?"
Tommen beamed at his aunt and Cersei rolled her eyes. The boy king leant towards Margaery eagerly.
"Aunt, I believe you have a name day before two moon turns?"
"That is correct, your Grace."
"I have decided to hold a banquet in your honour."
Margaery arranged her features into delighted surprise. She had in fact primed her brother to suggest the idea to Tommen and was pleased with this success. Both she and Tyrion agreed it would be the perfect excuse to invite Jaime and Sansa to the capital.
"I thank you for the generous offer, nephew! Your uncle and I will of course contribute to the cost of the event."
Cersei's lips were now twisted in malice, she was all but glaring at her sire, but Tywin showed no sign of reacting. Failing to gain paternal support she turned her attentions back to the younger woman.
"I did not realise you had a name day so soon, Margaery. You must be a similar age to myself when I had Mrycella, can we expect an announcement at the happy event?"
Margaery was not surprised to receive a taunt from Cersei on this particular subject, however something in the older woman's eyes, pricked a suspicion in her. Cersei seemed very certain that Margery would not simply announce she was indeed with child. When she did not respond Cersei took another deep draft of wine and tilted her head to one side, a picture of sugary sympathy.
"No? Oh I am sorry, after almost a year of marriage it must be a worry for you both. And of course, the lords of the Reach will not be happy regarding the increase in taxes on their goods. Such a shame you cannot secure your position."
"Our position is very secure I can assure you, good sister."
Margaery's smile was a false as Cersei's. Tyrion leant towards his father a tentative look on his face.
"Speaking of the Reach, father, you remember Lord Redwyne's suggestions for modernisation of the royal fleet? It seems the Bravosi may be in the market for some large clippers, we could use the profit from such a sale to finance the building of smaller ships and still have money for the royal coffers."
Cersei audibly scoffed.
"Rid ourselves of our best fighting ships? Are you really so vain that you must make everything smaller, little brother?"
"Cersei, you would do well to hold your tongue on subjects you have no understanding of."
There was no missing the contempt which dripped from Tywin Lannister's voice. He gazed at his son for a moment.
"There is merit in such a scheme, for all the sum of money which comes to the crown will be negligible."
Margaery watched her husband's well concealed elation at his father's words and inwardly sighed. She knew that Tyrion craved Tywin's approval however much he may profess otherwise. To the young brunette it was clear that Tywin had chosen his response as a barb for Cersei, Margery confessed to herself that she was baffled by how a man so disinterested in his children could exert such a hold over them. She only hoped that hold would never crush her little lion.
Eventualy the meal drew to a close, to Margaery's immense relief. She a tight band of pain across her forehead and despite being extremely hungry at the start the evening, she found herself quickly feeling full of the rich food on offer. Cersei came to her side for a formal embrace. The blonde whispered in a honeyed tone:
"Would you like me to send you another posset, good sister? Clearly the first batch was ineffective."
Hazel eyes met green and now Margaery's suspicions were fully aroused. She had not seen Cersei look like this since the older woman had been plotting to kill Loras. She smiled but was silent. As they made their way down the long flight of stairs, Tyrion looked up at her.
"What poison was sweet Cersei dripping into your ear as we left?"
Margaery gave him a small smile. She did not wish to reveal the truth of the encounter, given Tyrion's mixed feelings about potential parenthood and knowing he would likely blame himself if there was an issue with the couple's fertility.
"Oh just her usual bile, I have seldom met someone so lacking in originality."
Tyrion smirked at her and said no more. His innocent choice of the word 'poison' had crystallised his wife's concerns. Margery resolved to have Mytus examine her food and wine as soon as she could arrange it.
Early the next morning, Tyrion made his way to the harbour accompanied by Podrick. He wished to proceed with the shipping plan as swiftly as possible and the first step was ascertaining a reasonable price for the clippers. They were nearing the port district when they encountered Oberyn Martell. The flamboyant Dornishman was exiting an establishment Tyrion knew to offer a variety of nocturnal entertainments. He waved cheerily at the pair.
"Good morning, good fellows! Or is it goodnight?"
Tyrion breathed a short laugh.
"It is good morning indeed, my prince. Clearly married life leaves me quite dull in comparison to yourself. I trust you have had a pleasant evening."
Oberyn tilted his head and smiled crookedly.
"Pleasant would be one word, perhaps, instructive would be better."
"I would have imagined there was little the whores of King's Landing could teach you, my prince."
"Who said I was whoring? Anyone would think you had whores on the brain, Lord Tyrion! There are other skills I seek to keep sharp in this place, skills I may have need of very soon."
The Dornish prince raised his eyebrows significantly at the pair and Tyrion wondered what the dark eyed man was implying. Before he had a chance to pursue the subject Oberyn spoke once more:
"I will tell you this, Lord Tyrion, I am growing sick of hearing The Ballad of the Blackwater everywhere I go."
"My apologies, Prince Oberyn, a ditty my wife's bard composed to please her; it seems to have caught on."
"Yes, I'm sure you are deeply sorrowful. Well, its about time someone from house Lannister gave you credit for what you did that night. Shame you had to fuck her first."
Tyrion looked sharply at the Dornishman but spoke in an even tone.
"I would hardly have thought my familial relations were of concern to you, my prince."
"Jumping to conclusions again! You will injure yourself , little friend. I am simply making a friendly observation. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, it has been an exhausting night."
The prince threw them a mocking bow; as he did so his saffron coloured coat fell open and Tyrion was able to observe three long slashes in the shirt underneath. He gazed at Oberyn's retreating figure for several minutes wondering exactly what the hot headed prince had spent his evening doing.
It was after luncheon when Margaery made her way to Lord Varys' chambers. She had intended to pay the spymaster a call in the morning but following her visit to Mytus with instructions to test her food and wine for poison, she had found her head was pounding and had returned to bed for several hours. She knew the eunuch tended to situate his official business in the bowels of the Keep, near to the Targaryen dragon skeletons and was not surprised upon arrival to see a waif like boy standing in front of the door. She was about to ask if Lord Varys was in attendance when the child simply opened the door and Margaery found herself face to face with the man himself.
"Lady Margaery! How delightful it is to see you."
"Delightful, but not surprising?"
The brunette smiled and raised a brow, indicating the small table set with tea for two and the blood oranges he had suggested she try the day before. The spider smiled innocently.
"Laid out more in hope than expectation, I can assure you, my lady. Now to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"My husband wishes to be aware of the developing situation in the Iron Islands."
Varys frowned at her for a moment, almost appearing nonplussed. For a brief moment Margaery thought she saw his eyes widen.
"Ah the massing of ships, I reported to the Small Council. It would seem my little birds were mistaken about the scale of that venture, a matter internal to the region, only of concern to the Greyjoys."
The explanation seemed a little hurried and Margaery was pondering how she might press the eunuch further, when he spoke again.
"As pleased as I am to see you, I cannot imagine this is why you have come, Lord Tyrion could easily have asked me for an update at the next Small Council meeting."
Margaery nodded, offering him a small smile.
"I will admit you are someone who has intrigued me for some time, Lord Varys. I am aware you have aided my husband on occasion I wondered if such assistance would be extended to myself, should I have need of it."
"Do you have need of it, my lady?"
The Spider eyed her intently over the top of his cup. Margaery hoped her discomposure was not evident. She had no wish to share her suspicions regarding Cersei with this man; he may be a useful potential ally but his true motivations were ambiguous in the extreme. She reached for one of the oranges and began to peel it.
"It is always of benefit to be prepared, my lord. I was taught from a very early age to seek out alliances and work with others for mutual goals."
"An admirable strategy, my lady, far preferable, in my eyes, to conflict for conflict's sake. I have no doubt you and Lady Sansa have been working towards the mutual good of the Reach and the Westerlands, and I believe some fruits of that labour are already in evidence."
Feeling herself on firmer ground Margaery beamed at him.
"Indeed we are both pleased about the recent betrothals between houses from the two regions."
Varys returned the grin but his eyes were solemn.
"Are you aware that your late goodmother, Joanna Lannister, was a close friend of the princess of Dorne? At one time the pair hoped for a marriage between their children. It did nothing to protect Elia nor poor Rhaenys and Aegon."
Margaery felt as if his stare were boring into her. Determinedly, her hazel eyes met his gaze, when she spoke her voice was steady and light.
"Come, Lord Varys, I had not thought you one of those who hold all of House Lannister accountable for the fate of Elia and her children."
"I am not, my lady, in fact it is because I hold you and your husband in such high regard that I even speak of such things. I would not like to see either of you brought down by… misguided loyalty."
Margaery stared at the bald man's inscrutable countenance. She was aware she was being warned, but not what against.
"I am unsure what you mean by loyalty, my Lord, my husband is firstly loyal to me as I am to him, this surpasses any other considerations either of us might have."
"Well I am glad to hear it, Lady Margaery. I must thank you for visiting me today, you have helped to ease my mind considerably."
Margaery wished the feeling was mutual. Other than some vague portents of doom she had learnt very little. Still at least Tyrion could modernise the royal fleet without fear of an Iron Born invasion, and although she did not fully trust the Spider she did feel that he would not work against her, something which, given her growing suspicion of Cersei, was valuable indeed.
Just to be clear, Tyrion and Marge haven't had word from Jaime and Sansa at this point. The invite to KL is just a happy coincidence