Enjoy!
The small pebbles crushed beneath Hadrian's boot as he stepped onto dry land the first time in a month. His target, the subjugation of House Blacktyde and the beginning of revenge for Hadrian's mother, Ashara Dayne.
He had allowed the first waves of ravens to leave Blacktyde Castle and then ordered the complete surrounding of the small island castle by the many ships they had. While the vast majority of them were cogs and barges, the fifty Northern dromonds of war were scattered to be able to counteract any form of attack.
The young Stark Lord soon found himself in a war council aboard the flagship of the Northern fleet with the three other lords that accompanied him. "Lord Bolton, how go the men? And speak plainly." Hadrian questioned starting off the meeting.
The soft but harsh spoken man responded after a moment in a quiet voice. "They wonder why we here when we should be with the King. They do not think we are equipped for a siege and they are right. The siege weapons onboard the ships can reach the outer walls quite easily but he have not enough of them to do any significant damage before they are reinforced and by then we will be low on supplies."
Hadrian nodded and turned to Rickard Karstark who was, while being discrete about it, was glaring at the Bolton lord. "Lord Karstark, and yours?"
"My men are eager for a fight. They are ready to spill blood in your name." Karstark said proudly whilst standing to his full height and Hadrian nodded but cared not whose name they spilled blood in. The less of his men that died taking this castle the better.
"Lord Manderly, how many prisoners claimed they are of House Blacktyde?" Hadrian questioned while staring at the small castle walls.
"30, my lord." Lord Wyman responded after scrunching his thoughts of confusion.
After a moment's thought as Harry continued to stare at the Blacktyde Castle, he spoke in a confident voice. "Then by month's end the castle will be ours. Come ashore with the prisoners." Harry stated as he walked away leaving confused lords in his wake.
King Robert Baratheon shook his head in dismay as he listened to the groveling lord that was Mace Tyrell continue to speak.
How he managed to continue to emphasize in new ways that his daughter, merely five name days old, was a beauty with no equal and how under his orders the Redwyne Fleet managed to rally at the same time was beyond him.
And it appeared the other lords were getting sick of it as well, if going by the expressions of his brother in everything but blood, Ned Cailstark and even the oaf's own bannerman Randyll Tarly was sitting there, a man known for his stoic nature, openly glaring at his own liege lord. Even Oberyn Martell was there but the cold mask and frosty attitude toward everyone was steep contrast to the climate that was of Dorne.
The Dornish man and the Dornish men were there for vengeance against Ashara Dayne's murder, Robert sincerely doubted that if Ashara hadn't been killed there wouldn't have been any Dornish support at all.
A maester quickly entered the command tent that was on the shores of Pyke and garnered the King's attention and saving them all from the brown nosing of Mace Tyrell.
Never in his entire life had Robert been so glad to see one of those sniveling old men.
"Your grace." The man in grey robes stated as he handed his King the rolled parchment and spoke up. "A raven from Lord Bolton has arrived."
"Hadrian Stark has captured Harlaw, Orkmont and Blacktyde." Robert announced in his booming voice. "He reports three and ten Blacktyde men killed with no losses on his side when the castle surrendered its lord. House Orkwood was put to the sword and was destroyed to the last man. House Tawney, after losing forty men, surrendered their lord and House Harlaw dipped their banners to Hadrian Stark when he arrived on their shores. Your nephew reports no more than a hundred Northmen were killed in the fighting. He is on his way here."
That surprised everyone in the command tent.
When Ned had told Robert what his nephew's plan was, Robert was expecting severe casualties on the North's part and not the complete surrender of three islands and their houses. "Of course the man is exaggerating!" Mace proclaimed. "I should go myself to see to it that those houses are completely subdued."
After weeks of being in close proximity with the pompous man and Ned knew his nephew to sometimes omit details, never lied to him. The hardened Northman rounded on the Warden of the South. "My nephew is no liar and Lord Bolton is not a man known to tell tall tales. If he says my nephew has captured the three islands than he has."
Robert picked off his friend and barked at the Reach lord. "Besides, you fat oaf! We have been receiving ravens from just about the entirety of the Iron Islands that they are surrendering when our forces land! There must be something that the young Stark is doing right that is making our jobs a hell of a lot more easier! If not for him, then the Redwyne Fleet would be nothing but shambles and Ironborn raiders still frolicking along the coast!"
The Oaf of Highgarden didn't have anything to say as he sputtered. Robert shook his head and waved him off. The man would only dig a deeper hole for himself.
The Jon Arryn spoke up. "To allow the young Stark Lord to wipe a House from existence though? Surely that can't be allowed."
Thoughts drifted over to the infamous Tywin Lannister and the Reins of Castamere. No one said anything about it but Robert knew that Hadrian had garnered some respect from the Old Lion if only if it was a little.
Ned spoke up in defense of his nephew, however. "His mother was a hostage and if any one of your own mothers were murdered as well than you may do the same yourselves. There is one thing for sure that the outcome of this war will be. Maron Greyjoy will not live, no matter the cost." Ned said with finality, garnering a voice of agreement from Oberyn Martell.
"This is war, Ned." Jon disagreed with a shake of his head. "Things happen. To execute Maron Greyjoy we may have to wipe House Greyjoy off the map as well. The decimation of a Great House, even if it is of the Iron Islands, so close to after the rebellion would not look to well. It would be better to bring them in the King's Peace rather than ridding another House root and stem."
"Aye, this is war." Ned agreed. "And things happen, but I do not think keeping my nephew from his target will earn us any favors. The only thing on his mind when he left the Moat was the blood and death of Maron Greyjoy."
"Enough." Robert barked. "We will discuss this more when your nephew arrives, Ned. There is not much good in deciding the fate of the Greyjoys while they still sit in their castle."
There was a moment of silence as Ned and Jon stared at each other in a battle of wills.
"Leave us." Robert commanded and the lords up and left. The Hand of the King not moving at all. "Jon, you too. Ned, stay." The grim man did as he was told but by the tent flap as Jon Arryn, not breaking eye contact with the elder man, brushed by him. It was several moments before Robert spoke.
"It feels good to be back on the battlefield. Gets my blood going you know?" Robert said in a strong tone but it turned downtrodden as Ned just continued to stare at him. The King sighed at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Jon is right. I can't just allow the whole of the Greyjoy's to death. Maron included. To do so would be seen by many lords that they won't be safe and even I know that the last thing anyone wanted was this war. We will see to it that they are bashed in good that if they don't change their ways they will be destroyed, there is no escaping that."
"Hadrian will not be happy." Ned simply stated.
"Your nephew is just a boy, Ned." Robert said. "Just let him blood a few more of these squids and he'll feel satisfied."
The Regent of the North shook his head at that. "He is just as wild as Brandon was and as vicious as my father. I tried to curb his more ambitious plans but its all for naught as he just finds some way to make sense. If he sets his mind to it, he will not be kept from it."
"Seems the young pup is the alpha of your pack now!" Robert bellowed a loud laugh. Ned mentally commented that Robert had no idea how right he was.
Hadrian disembarked the small long ship onto the island of Pyke. With him as hostage was Lords Blacktyde and Tawney as Lord Orkmont had been executed when he attempted to surrender after his walls were breached and Lord Harlaw was still back in his castle as he had surrendered as soon as Hadrian stepped onshore near his castle.
While Harlaw had surrendered that didn't mean that his treasury wasn't confiscated. Seeing as Harlaw had the largest treasury, it was to be a gift to King Robert while the four Northern lords split House Tawney's and House Orkmont's loot.
Hadrian led the small entourage through the massive encampment on the shores of Pyke. Stormmen, Westermen, Reachmen, Dornish men and Northmen all cheered for Hadrian and threw scraps of food and pebbles at the two shamed lords.
Through it all Hadrian kept a stoic façade. He had no reason to be happy. The only joy he found in that moment was that he was that the man that caused him grief
Maron Greyjoy was going to die and not even the King would stop him.
Hadrian had felt no satisfaction in killing Voldemort as he was only a year old when his parents, Lily and James, were killed and could hardly remember them.
Hadrian would feel the greatest amount of triumph in killing Maron Greyjoy. Hadrian lost Ashara and now Balon will lose Maron.
He was greeted by the Kingslayer better known as Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard. His pure white armor making him stand out like a sore thumb among the dark reds of Lannister and browns and greys of Stark.
"Ah so the Wolf decides he is ready to grace us with his presence!" The blonde haired man said aloud.
"And the Lion decides he needs to grace us with his." Hadrian blandly retorted his face showing no emotion and Jaime sarcastically and overtly bowed whilst sweeping his arm in a grand gesture. The last time the young Stark had seen the man was at the closing feast quite a few years back at his last day in King's Landing.
Back then, Harry could remember seeing the Lannister Kingsguard with bags under his eyes and constantly looking over his shoulder at the shadows as if they were hiding Targaryen loyalists out for revenge for their Mad King.
Hadrian honestly thought that Jaime had the same if not more assassination attempts than Robert himself for the role he played in the Rebellion in that he was not only a Kingsguard that literally went against his vows but also the first born son of Tywin Lannister and a prime target for redemption for Elia and her children.
His death could easily be played off as an attempt on the King and no one would be the wiser and unless Tywin had any leads on the perpetrator, they would get off scot-free.
His ever present smirk, had faltered only slightly as the Hadrian did not appear amused in the slightest. "I am to escort you to King Robert, who has called a full war council now that you are here. My father's men will take charge of the prisoners." He waved forward the small grouping of Lannister soldiers.
Hadrian immediately stopped them with an icy-glare as his hand, that his been clasped with the other at his back landed on the pommel of Winter. "The prisoners will remain under my care, if you want any hope of ending this war by week's end."
"My father wants them as hostages." Jaime retorted.
"Then the Old Lion will come get them himself." If Jaime looked closely, sparks of power could be seen in the eyes of Hadrian. "To me, they lost their chances at becoming hostages the moment they decided to not surrender peacefully." The two prisoner lords suddenly gained a fearful look.
There was a silent standoff and the Northmen accompanying the young Lord looked uneasy except for Karstark and Manderly. They had garnered respect for their future liege lord who showed mercy to those that deserved it and death to those who denied it.
Jaime's eyes narrowed ever so slightly and the edge of the Kingsguard brow twitched as he was rebuffed. Hadrian spoke again. This time Hadrian let his foreboding, uncomfortable and authoritative aura spike and held it there cowing the less brave of the men around them, "Take me to the King. The prisoners will come as well and we will see what he decides then."
The standoff continued as many men looked at each other nervously, all dangerously close to drawing their weapons and all ready to start another civil war on the shores of Pyke.
After another moment, Jaime nodded and gestured for them to follow him. Hadrian followed without hesitation and quickly entered the King's command tent. Ser Barristan the Bold and Ser Aerys Oakheart flanking the Demon of the Trident with the other Wardens of Westeros surrounding the table.
Ned stood off to the side outside the tent and was calmly tending to Ice. Harry had seen his uncle do this many times when he had a lot on his mind and needed time to think. The only greeting shared between the two was the nod before the grim man stood and followed the Northern entourage into the presence of the King of Westeros.
Hadrian and all the other lords of the North dropped to one knee and after being told to rise, stood proudly. Except for Lord Bolton, the Leech Lord had a slight hunch in his posture and never broke it to anyone.
"Little Hadrian Stark!" The boisterous King boomed and laughed loudly as he drank from a cup of wine. "My you have grown! You look like a boy five and ten when its only been four years!"
Harry had his magic to thank for that. His growth would be accelerated until he reached eight and ten years of age and then it would stagnate to a fourth of the rate. In his previous life, he didn't notice it as much as his growth was stunted by the abuse he endured at the hands of the Dursleys and when at Hogwarts he didn't take much note of it because when everyone had accelerated growth due to their magic, nothing looked out of the ordinary.
Here though Harry would probably be taller than Robert was in his prime but not the monstrous height of Ser Gregor Clegane or Greatjon Umber.
"You have done the Crown a great service." Robert proclaimed. "The rebellion is being put down quite quickly."
"I believe having the entirety of Westeros bearing down on a single house can have that type of effect." Hadrian carefully said to which Robert quickly barked a laugh.
"Boy, the Ironborn were surrendering as soon as we showed up." Robert said honestly much to the chagrin to Tywin Lannister and Mace Tyrell. "And they had us on our back foot until Stannis beat the Iron Fleet at Fair Isle and you were here long before that."
"The Ironborn are seafarers, I won't insult them in not saying that their strength at sea is where their power lies." The young Stark responded earnestly but then looked away slightly. "But I won't deny that the efforts of my lords, my men and I, have had a significant impact on their morale."
There was a pause in conversation as Jon Arryn whispered something in the King's ear to which he nodded. "For your efforts, I am prepared to grant you a boon. Anything that is within my power to grant it will be yours."
Hadrian thought for a split-second. "I request vengeance for my mother. The only payment will be the head of Maron Greyjoy."
One could hear a pin drop in the silence that engulfed the tent at that.
Jon Arryn spoke for the King. "Regrettably, that is something we cannot grant. We have determined that the House Greyjoy will continue to rule the Iron Islands and thus will not tolerate their deaths. Do not worry they will pay with their gold and oaths."
"Oaths mean nothing to the Ironborn." Hadrian spat out but there was a measure disdain towards the Warden of the East. What meagre respect that Hadrian had for Jon Arryn was dwindling fast. "They will promise to one King and when he passes they will rebel again. They will never cease their raiding and pillaging unless destroyed."
"That does not excuse the extinction of a Great House." Jon Arryn retorted. Hadrian internally scoffed at the hypocrisy of the man. The Lord of the Vale fractured Westeros to rid it of House Targaryen when they burned men alive. Why raise the entirety of Westeros to allow a House, whose entire religion and culture revolved around raping and raiding, to live?
The young Stark Lord highly doubted that the goodness of his heart was the sole reason for allowing the reavers to live. The young Stark shook his head when an idea occurred to him. "How long has the siege been going on?"
"About a month." Stannis dourly responded. "They won't surrender even when all their support is gone. Maybe another few months before we starve them out."
Hadrian turned to the King and suggested. "Give me a week. If they do not surrender by then than wait the month and take it by force."
Robert looked thoughtful when Mace Tyrell spoke up. "A green boy! You believe you can cow the Ironborn into submission! Ha! The Tyrell men have been at for a month! If we cannot do it then surely you cannot."
Stannis openly glared at the oaf as did many of the other lords. "Tourneys and feasting surely is intimidating." Hadrian dryly mocked. "Give me a week and whatever prisoners you have and the castle will be yours."
King Robert barked a laugh and nodded. "You have command of the siege until I deem otherwise. This is the King's command." Hadrian nodded, bowed and stepped out. The other Northern lords following him.
It was time to end this war.
Ned Stark was sick to his stomach after listening to Rodrick Karstark tell him how his nephew produced the outcome of three islands
Impaling hadn't been done in centuries. Sure, the spiking of heads was done but the person was already dead.
Hadrian Stark, his own nephew, executed thirteen Blacktyde prisoners in full view of the inhabitants of the castle. Thirteen men bled to death atop steel pikes. Forty Orkwood prisoners executed in the same fashion and when the castle didn't surrender, the entire castle was put to the sword.
The ruthless Stark Lord left Castle Orkwood adorned with their defenders impaled atop the castle walls. Their bodies drained of blood as they were displayed for all to see. A complete mocking of the Ironborn ways.
While burial in the ground was more of a slap in the face to the Ironborn, the air was about as far as one could get from the sea.
The message clear to all. Surrender or face gruesome death. A Tawney scout had seen the results and had reported them to their Lord before ravens were sent every which way of the outcome. After the defeat at Fair Isle and the gruesome manner in which House Orkwood had been dealt with, it was either face surrender with their lives or meet the Stranger earlier than intended.
Ned approached his nephew and stood at his side as the strode to the edge of the range of the castle archers. "Hadrian."
"Uncle." The young man's voice was distant, almost serene in his calming tone. His stature and stride confident in its task. Winter swaying slightly at his hip and the black and grey wolf pelt cloak billowing slightly in the wind. His battle companions staying slightly behind with Lord Orkwood being dragged along while Lords Bolton Karstark and Manderly had recognized the need for privacy and walked further back. Benjen had been sent to deal with any more threats at Old Wyke and to control the peace until Pyke surrendered.
"Lord Karstark told me of your exploits at Orkwood and their fate."
"Then you know that what I am about to do." Hadrian surmised.
Ned could only nod but the disappointed look never left his eyes.
"Uncle, I am not here for glory nor honor." Hadrian began as they continued to walk towards the edge. "I am not here to be merciful nor am I here to be the bringer of death to all. I am here to end the war not prolong it needlessly. I did not feel satisfaction in killing those men and will only feel it when Maron is dead."
"He also told me that you were executing Drowned priests." Ned commented.
Hadrian nodded sharply. "They are a part of the root that must be cut. They encourage raiding and raping and paying their so called 'Iron Price'. I say let them pay it. Pay it with the judgement of steel and their own wrought destruction."
They arrived at the edge. "They will either surrender or suffer the same fate as Orkwood." The young Stark declared. "As I said, I will do what it take to protect my people and ensure the Greyjoys know that Winter has come for them and that the blizzards will not stop until it has claimed what they have bought."
The Stark entourage garnered quite the crowd as they stepped to the no man's land between the siege line and the castle walls. "Maron Greyjoy!" Hadrian called out, his voice amplified with magic. The sense of foreboding and dominance gradually increasing for the defenders of Pyke.
It was several moments before Lord Balon Greyjoy and his son Maron stood atop the battlements. "The young pup thinks he can cow us!" Maron shouted garnering many laughs from the defenders though many of them were unsettled. Rumors had reached them of what had befallen House Orkwood at the hands of Hadrian Stark.
"I speak to not only the defenders of these walls but the Pretender as well." Hadrian ominously said. Everyone assumed he was speaking of Balon and his rebellious claim of King of the Iron Islands. Only Hadrian knew that the Drowned God himself was addressed and if the storm rolling in was any indication, he was listening and not at all happy. "Know that what I do, is an affront to your Iron Price and customs. Know that should your lord not surrender this castle, the fate of every man that calls themselves 'Ironborn' will suffer the death of rebels and will be treated as such. Know that no one will be safe, not even your King, when the walls of Pyke crumble." Hadrian gestured with his bandaged hand and two men-at-arms roughly shoved the former Lord Blacktyde forward and another handed the Stark Lord a pike.
"Lord Victarion Blacktyde. I charge you with high treason of which you have been found guilty of." Hadrian announced. "In the name of King Robert of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I, Hadrian of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North sentence you to death."
The former lord had an incredibly fearful look in his eyes and he attempted to run but two Stark men held him in place. With a single, powerful thrust, Hadrian pierced the back of the lord and forced the body into the air, with magically reinforced strength the Stark Lord executed the final move to the dance he had perfected in the previous months.
The young Wolf displayed the impaled body of Victarion Blacktyde for all to see. A lord of the Iron Isles executed like a common thief.
It was silent as the grave and only the puking of dozens of Tyrell men and the strangled and sputtering screams of Victarion Greyjoy sang through the air.
Hadrian stepped forward into range of the castle defenders before sharply pointing to the impaled man. "That is the fate of every man here if you don't surrender! We have six other lords of the Iron Islands, that means you have six days to surrender before this castle falls." He shouted and turned his back. The entire encampment silent as they watched the Stark Lord deliver the ultimatum and walk away with a predatory grace.
The sputtering of Victarion Blacktyde ceased and the rumors of the surrendering of the Iron Isles proven true.
Hadrian soon found himself having to deal with an errant Jorah Mormont. "Tell me again why you disobeyed my orders, Lord Mormont." Hadrian spoke. The elder man while not openly glaring at his future liege lord did not respond.
"Exactly." Hadrian nearly snapped. The weight of the past months almost crashing down upon him. "There is no meaningful excuse for you not to be back at Bear Island or Northpoint and defending the shores from any raiders."
"You can not expect me to simply stay back when there is honor and glory to be had!" Jorah snapped back. The other Northern lords were here witnessing this exchange. While Hadrian, and the other Northern lords, could and would forgive his uncle's open argument with Hadrian back at the Moat as he had been worried for him, he could not forgive a blatant disregard for command to do so would jeopardize his position. Jorah was also the youngest of the lords just after Hadrian himself so his ignorant attitude was something that was simply foolish.
"This is war, Lord Mormont." Hadrian did not raise his voice but the coldness that gripped his tone sent chills down the spines of those present. "It isn't about doing what is right or wrong nor achieving glory or honor. It is about survival. You seem to forget the very subject the North is known for teaching, your own home doubly so."
"You seem to not care that you are glorifying your own actions." Jorah stated and at that point Hadrian had half a mind to behead the man. He wouldn't do so though but Jorah would be feeling the effects of the alpha aura that was currently gripping his heart causing him to slightly tremble in fear.
"I have no need nor want to justify my actions to you. What others view them as is none of my concern." Hadrian sharply rebuked. "Jorah Mormont as of now I am determining whether or not that House Mormont is in need of a regency until a male of your sister's line comes of age.
Your blatant disregard for my own commands and the disregard you have for leading your own people and defending them in a time of war is grounds for execution or the Wall. Should the walls of Pyke be breached, you will be in the rear guard. What trust I have for you is minimal but it is enough to allow you to go unguarded. If any should find you in the vanguard, you will go back to the North a disgraced man and given the option of death or the Wall." Hadrian declared. "I have half a mind to execute you right now, you are in luck that the King is here and to present a fracture in the North will not bode well for us."
There was silence at that. Hadrian was getting sick of it. "When we return, I will personally see to it that the regency is placed in the capable hands of your sister. Should you prove yourself capable you will have it back but until then you are no longer the Lord of House Mormont." All the other lords nodded subtly at that, approving of the decision.
The taking away of his lordship was a good thing it would rid him of the power to further damage the reputation of his house and if he messed up he wouldn't drag his house down further. The lingering threat of the Wall or death hung in the air as Hadrian left for supper with the King and his uncle.
It earned him more respect in the eyes of the North, except Bolton who would've executed the man right then and there for defying him.
It was early in the sixth morning of when Hadrian Stark had taken over the siege of Pyke. He had doubled the efforts of the siege engines and increased shows of might with marches. The Reach had been forced to stop the tourneys and feasting in plain sight and the Westerman and Northmen showing the precision of the few siege engines and the few war dromonds that could get close enough to shore that were done with a few false attacks at all times during both the day and night.
The Ironborn would not get any rest and with the numbers that Westeros had brought to bear they could cycle through quite easily. Now it was easy to see that the siege was being taken seriously rather than being at the command of Mace Tyrell.
It was easy for all to see and none plainer to Tywin Lannister that Winter was coming for House Greyjoy.
He arranged for a meeting with Hadrian Stark today in hopes of gaining a possible tie to the rapidly influential and prospering North, gaining the alliance or rather control of the North.
Tywin and his son Jaime watched off from the side as Hadrian Stark executed Lord Tawney with impalement and the Old Lion mentally added respect to the young Stark's reputation. The young Warden offered them a way out, a sense of mercy, something Tywin couldn't add to his due to his advancing age and having already established himself as a ruthless and merciless individual.
The Old Lion and the Kingsguard moved towards the young Northern lord that was gracefully, if a little deadly, walk towards his command tent as if nothing happened. The thirty Stark men-at-arms that accompanied him, a staple sight wherever the young lord went, always vigilant in the protection of their ward.
While Mace Tyrell had made some fuss over the young lord being able to create such a guard, Robert had put a quick stop to it, the young Stark even going so far as stating that they were more battle companions rather than guards and would return to their regular duties once back at Winterfell.
After all, having something akin to the Kingsguard was treason and wouldn't go over well with many lords at the obvious show of favoritism. That still didn't stop a few of the men from the Reach from calling it the Wolfsguard, however.
Tywin followed them towards his tent where the young Lord's messenger had told him to meet him at. The guards just waved him in and the two Lannister men stood beside the Northern men.
Tywin, while appalled at having to take orders from the boy, took a seat when he was gestured to do. The young Wolf was standing over the battle map and was simple fiddling with a quill. Hadrian sat down as well. "Lord Tywin, Jaime Lannister." The young Stark greeted neutrally. "Might I offer you some water? I am afraid to say that right now I am unable to procure wine."
"Lord Hadrian. I thank you for your offer." Responded the Old Lion in kind and nodded slightly but internally a foreboding and grim feeling took feeling in him as Tywin looked into the eyes of the younger boy. The Lion of Casterly Rock felt as though the multicolored gaze was piercing his very soul and mind.
Internally, the Lion shook himself of the feeling before getting on with the meeting. He knew Northerners not to beat around the bush and Tywin was never good at flowering words. "I am here to discuss an alliance between both of our houses."
Hadrian nodded as though the young Wolf knew what he was here for but there was a slight narrowing of the Stark's eyes before leaving so quickly Tywin thought he imagined the contortion of muscle. Hadrian spoke up. "And what do you have in mind?" The young lord knew that right now Jaime was insignificant and wouldn't speak until the official discussion had taken place.
Tywin respect went up a few notches for the young Wolf. Just about any other lord would not get into specifics with House Lannister as due to how powerful they were the minor lords would bend over backwards to simply be on his good side. He also didn't outright refuse him as his regent had and had the decency to hear him out.
Now Tywin didn't typically respect people and as a matter of fact the only two people he had respect for were his brother Kevan and sister Genna and would go to the ends of the Planetos to see to it that they were well cared for. He still hated his father for marrying Genna to the Frey's of all houses. Hadrian, however, was a refreshing difference than all the bumbling fools he normally had to deal with.
To find that in a ten year old, even though he looked five and ten, only meant great things.
That is to say, Tywin showed it. He would not ruin a potentially powerful ally with an overblown ego.
"A marriage alliance." The Lord of Casterly Rock said simply. "Between one of my nieces. Increased trade and a way to mend ties between Westeros."
Tywin had wanted to offer Myrcella's hand, since he wouldn't have been able to deny, but the eldest child of the Royal Family was firmly sheltered by her banshee of a mother even though Cersei displayed blatant favoritism to 'her precious lion' that was the sadistic Joffrey. Tywin did not want to know how that madness took hold of his grandson. He would've beat that out of Joffrey the moment he showed signs but it seemed his mother was cultivating a second Aerys.
He did not in one chance think the wise boy of the North would ever agree to a betrothal with an off-shoot branch of Lannisters. Hadrian Stark was after all, Lord of Winterfell and Warden to the rapidly strengthening North. To marry someone of that stature would be an insult to his own lords, unless the offer was tying the North to the throne, the young Lord would be obligated to marry of the North.
Perhaps he could plant thoughts of marriage in Robert's ear. He needed the North to be controllable and with Hadrian showing a ruthless and cunning side that hadn't been seen since Cregan Stark and the Dance of Dragons, it was becoming all the more imperative to secure the North as an ally.
And if history was to repeat itself, it wouldn't do for the Lannisters to have an enemy in the North.
The young Stark lord spoke after a moment with an aloof tone but the ever-present and underlying aura of authority and uncomfortableness was still felt by the Old Lion. "I cannot give you any promises other than it will be taken under consideration. You know the position I find myself in."
Tywin nodded but his mind instantly turned to a scheme. When Pyke fell, if the detrimental loss of morale of the Ironborn was any indication it would be any day now that the castle surrender making the young Wolf good on his promise, he could host a tourney in Lannisport where Cerrana could perhaps seduce the young lord. It was a stretch but it may work.
A calm but tight smile formed on the Old Lion's lips as his thoughts turned to the several large gold mines controlled by the Stark's themselves. Yes, it could work.
It never occurred to the Lion of Casterly Rock that the Wolf of Winterfell's own calm but deadly smile indicated the he knew exactly what the elder man was thinking.
And was going to rather put a huge wrench in his plans. After all, no one could force him to go, other than the King and even that was iffy. The only ones he thought could get him to go to Lannisport were one of his cousins and one of them was in Winterfell and the others in Moat Cailin hundreds of leagues away.
Tomorrow would either spell death or life for the Greyjoy family.
Until Next Time!