Chapter 10:
The sun was beating down on the dirt and sands of King's Landing, as it reached its highest position in the sky. At high noon, the streets of the city were bustling with all kinds of people. Isabel had just left the ports of Blackwater Bay, with a cart of brightly coloured silks and jeweled trinkets she had purchased from William. But instead of heading towards her trades posts as per her usual routine, she decided to take a detour, and personally pay a visit to Petyr Baelish's whorehouse.
It wasn't the most respectable place to be in, as the women gave her strange looks and the men would stare up and down her body as if she was a piece of fresh meat. But Isabel held her head up high, and refused to cast a single glance at her onlookers – and she was also comforted by the fact that Ser Tommas as well as some members of her household were there for added protection.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" ask Ser Tommas, "This isn't the most reputable establishment to be seen at, especially for a highborn lady like yourself."
She gave him an amused look, as her knight could not look straight into her eyes, but instead diverted his stare towards the ground. "I'm sure I'll be okay, Ser Tommas. Besides, I'm more worried about you."
"Me?"
"So much temptation around you," she jested. "I'll be a few moments…try to keep yourself out of trouble."
She proceeded to walk through the beaded curtains, and the drapes of silk and cloth that hung from the walls and ceilings, while the smoke from the burning incense made Isabel cough from the strong musky scents. The shadows of women appeared behind the curtains, as they looked lustfully at Isabel. Wearing barely anything except a thin chemise, Isabel found herself slightly blushing at their indiscretion.
An older woman suddenly appeared which Isabel assumed ran the brothel. Her hair was bright orange, an unnatural colour which made her think it was a wig, while her eyes were lined with dark kohl make-up. "Can I help you, dear?"
"Where is your master?" she asked, "Lord Baelish."
"I didn't know he was…expecting company," she lewdly suggested.
"He's not…and this is visit strictly business," she replied.
"Sweet darling, it's all business here," the older woman mocked.
The woman led Isabel further down the hall, until they reached a rather large room that was draped in curtains, pillows and fabrics. In the middle of the room was Petyr, sitting at his desk while he was writing a letter.
Without looking up, he said, "What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your enchanting company?"
Isabel turned to the older woman, who was waiting by the door. Isabel gave her a stern look – a silent demand to leave them in privacy. The women hesitantly left, after stealing a glance from Petyr to ask for his leave.
"A new shipment arrived," she began, "It's all waiting outside for you…I think you'll find this month's goods to your satisfactory."
He put down his quill, folded the parchment and sealed it, before rising up from his chair and looked at her. "You didn't have to go all this way…you know I could have sent someone."
"Oh but I wanted to," she stated, "I've not seen you for so long…I simply had to make sure you were still alive."
He gave her a sly smile. "You tease me, Isabel….how much do I owe you this time?"
"A hundred gold dragons."
"I do sometimes wonder if you are trying to cheat me out of my money," he joked.
"And rob myself from one of my best paying customers? I would never think of offering you an unprofitable deal. I would have asked for double if I didn't like you."
He walked to his wardrobe, where he spent a few moments counting and weighing the coins before he dropped it in a red velvet pouch and handed her the money. "And how was your trip home?" he asked, changing the subject, "I heard about the king's decision…such a shame."
"A tiny bump in the road…I don't give up that easily."
"I'm sure the Lady Arryn didn't take your plans very well," he mused.
"She took it as well as I expected it…she didn't throw me out the Moon Door and I consider that a blessing," she thought out loud, "And Lord Ned Stark, I presume he is adjusting well to the council?"
"A good man...an honourable man, but he has so much to learn."
"Well, he has only the best to learn from."
She turned around to leave and headed towards the door, before stopping herself and turning around. "Oh! Before I forget, I simply must ask you…where did you find that dagger?"
He looked perplexed as his brows furrowed in slight confusion, and Isabel was careful to keep a straight face. "Dagger?"
"The Valyrian blade…the one you lost to Tyrion Lannister in a poor bet. Lord Stark showed it to me, and I must know how you managed to find such a rare beauty. I'm on the hunt for my own Valyrian blade, for the right price of course."
He held her gaze, suddenly catching on what she was referring to, and for a moment was at a loss of words. "It was a long time ago…I don't remember."
"Hm," she replied, "Shame…I would have love to have chatted to the merchant you bought it from. Oh well, good day to you Lord Baelish."
As she walked out, it was difficult for Isabel to wipe the triumphant smirk off her face. As she stepped out into the sunlight, she saw Ser Tommas patiently waiting for her.
"Did you find anything new out, my Lady?"
"He's a liar," she simply stated, "But that's nothing new…it only confirms what I already know. Follow him, I want to know what the seven hells he's up to. If he had anything to do with my father's death, I swear I will cut his head off myself."
She had fallen back into her old routine since returning to the capital. Her mornings always brought here to the docks, where she found herself most at ease spending time with the merchants and traders from the Free Cities. By the afternoon, she'd make her way over to the castle to attend to Arya and Sansa Stark when their father was in council meetings. Since her own father's passing, she made a point to attend less of them, even though Varys and Petyr Baelish would always extend the invitation to her. When evening came, she'd either return to her household, or spend the evening at the Tower of the Hand before retiring for the night.
And before she'd go to sleep, she read one of the many letters he had sent, to ensure she was blessed with peaceful dreams.
Everything looked like it was back to normal, but deep down, Isabel worried everyday about her future – she was just careful not to show it.
Walking through the courtyard of the castle, she was stopped by Jamie Lannister, whose golden armour shone brightly in the sun, and almost blinded her.
"Ser Jamie," she greeted, "Are you not suppose to be with the King right now?"
He smirked at her, and Isabel took the chance to really study his face. Despite his Lannister blood, Isabel had to admit that Jamie Lannister was extremely handsome. She'd often hear of the court ladies and servants often daydreaming of the kingslayer, and despite his tarnished reputation, he was able to charm every single female at court.
He was handsome to look at, but Isabel knew what kind of person he truly was.
"Contrary to popular belief, I do not babysit the king every single day," he clarified, "I've actually come to seek your delightful company."
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked curiously.
"We need to talk," he simply said. He opened his arms, inviting the young woman to walk beside him. Though thoroughly suspicious, she decided to humour him and took a place by his side as he led them out of the courtyard and towards the direction into Maegor's Holdfast, where the Queen's royal apartments were.
Without looking in her direction, Jamie Lannsiter kept his gaze straight ahead. "I hope you haven't forgotten about what my dear sister, our Queen has offered you."
Her shoulders tensed, not expecting him to bring up such a subject. In truth, she had thought it'd be forgotten since she last spoke to the Queen in private before they arrived in Winterfell.
"How could I forget, Ser Jamie," she said, "Your family is most gracious to offer this alliance."
"We look out for the underdogs," he commented.
She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her from saying something that she probably would have regretted. Instead she put a smile on her face and chose to remain silent.
They arrived at the door of the Queen's chambers, where Jamie turned and faced her. "You know, if I were you, I'd take up the offer...something as generous as this doesn't come every day."
He then proceeded to lean in and pushed his face near her ear, where his breathe went down her neck and tickled the small hairs on the nape of her neck. Tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, he whispered, "Afterall, it's better to be with us, than against us."
Jamie took a step back before he gestured towards the door, "Your Queen awaits you."
The smile never left his face, as he turned and walked away leaving Isabel alone in the corridor, with Cersei Lannister waiting in the next room. She knocked on the wooden door and hesitated for a moment, before turning the handle and walking in.
The Queen's private chambers were lavished with golden curtains and red pillows, with a balcony near the end of the room that looked out to a private courtyard. The sun shone through the translucent fabrics, creating a wave of shadows that moved with the wind on the walls.
She walked slowly around the seemingly empty room. There were no servants or ladies-in-waiting, instead, the Queen's chambers were completely quiet.
It suddenly dawned on Isabel that this was a private meeting, set up by the Lannister siblings – a meeting that no one would have known that had taken a place, and no one would know Isabel was here if they decided to kill her.
A shadow caught the corner of her eye, and she caught the sight of the Queen's golden hair and her red dress, as her back faced towards her. She was sitting outside the balcony, near a small table that had a jug of wine and two cups. Isabel could only assume that the Queen was waiting for her.
Isabel walked towards the balcony, and pushed aside the drapery and took a seat on the opposite side of the table.
"Wine?" she offered.
Isabel stole a glance at the contents to see her glass had already been filled. She hesitated to bring the wine to her lips, afraid it would be tainted. Cersei was staring intently at her, with an amused look on her face sensing what Isabel was already thinking. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned. I simply only wanted to talk privately."
"I can't imagine what my Queen would want a private audience with me," she replied, trying to play dumb.
"I hope you've considered my offer, since we've last spoke," she said, deliberately ignoring Isabel.
"It's passed my mind once or twice," she commented.
"And?" she pressed.
"May I speak frankly, your Grace?" she hesitantly asked.
Cersei gave her a knowing smile. "No one is here…you can speak freely."
"You and your family has shown no interest in me whatsoever in the past…so why now? Why do you offer me help?"
"You think my motives suspicious?"
"Yes..quite frankly, I do."
"It's understandable I suppose," she said, while taking a sip of wine from her own glass. "You know, we're very similar, you and I."
"Forgive me, but I don't see the likeness."
"We struggle to make our mark in the world of men," she observed, "You fight for your birthright, and you fight with more ferocity than any knight I've ever seen."
"And I see a queen who wishes to rule over her husband," Isabel commented.
"We both fight for what we believe in…why should men have all the fun?"
Isabel, suddenly enjoying this conversation chuckled out loud. It was a rare incident, speaking with the Queen in such frankness, yet it also comforted Isabel knowing that there was someone that understood her – even if that someone was a Lannister.
"Can you imagine…a world ruled by women?" Isabel wondered. "Where men ran the household and raised the children, while we rode into battle and earned the glory?"
For a few moments, the two women laughed at the thought, and enjoyed the silence that followed. "I offer you a sign of friendship, Isabel…because I know what it's like to fight. They will push you down, say you're weak…that you're only good for breeding; that your only duty is to be a good and obedient wife. I know what it's like to fight amongst a world of men."
"So you offer me help, because you take pity on me?"
"Because I want to see you rise above men."
"And what must I offer to such a generous friendship? Whom must I marry?"
"My cousin, Lancel. Of course, he will be knighted, and given lands and a stronghold to keep before your wedding date."
"You presume too much, your Grace. I have not yet accepted this gracious proposal," Isabel tried to clarify.
"I know you'll make the right decision," Cersei replied knowingly.
Isabel frowned, still unsatisfied at Cersei Lannister's explanation. As much sympathy and understanding the older woman offered Isabel, she knew she could not take it as such. There was an intended meaning behind her words, and the intention was not a sign a friendship.
Varys words echoed through her mind. They will undermine you and take the Vale for themselves…you know this.
"I thank you for your concern and kind words, my Queen. But I assure you that I am much stronger than I appear…I do not need your pity, nor do I seek a friendship if it means to undermine my ability to rule in my own right."
"You cannot do this alone, Isabel Arryn. You will lose this game if you do not seek help."
"Your Grace, I did not say I was alone," she replied.
Isabel lifted her cup to her lips and finished the wine, until the last drop fell on her tongue. She got up and gave the Queen a quick curtsey before quickly leaving the room. As she closed the door behind her, she leaned against the wall as her legs almost gave way. In an effort to control her nerves she took a few deep breathes, and began laughing to herself, before walking away with her held up high.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! There's plenty more to come...I've actually written well into chapter 20, and I assure you..the political webs, war, lies and deception only get more interesting. So please stick around and find out what our characters are up to! :) :)