This chapter was written with help from KidWinTinker. After spending a few enjoyable hours in Littlefinger's brothel Iywel and Bronn agree to duel. At least that's what he said. Who doesn't enjoy a duel against Bronn? Please read and review.
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"Stannis fucking Baratheon? The king from Dragonstone? You fuckin' serious?" Iywel couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.
"The very same" replied Tyrion. The tone of his voice indicated that he was in fact extremely serious.
No wonder Littlefinger gets to bathe in gold, thought Iywel to himself. With King's Landing in this much strife, irrespective of whether you were high born or low born, people tended to require an outlet. For the commoners, there were plenty of tavern's and whorehouses. It took a master businessman, with a keen understanding of his target audience, to cater to the tastes of King's Landing's elite. Everything that Iywel had seen when they had entered the establishment had indicated that its owner possessed the gift of finding out what people wanted, coupled with enough persistence to ensure that they received it. The outside wall bore his self-styled sigil – a sure enough indication of his vast ambition, even if it was the only one he displayed. The insides were a maze of rooms, many of them containing multiple doors for entry as well as exit. Each room usually had a luxurious bed, positioned in the center, but Iywel had glanced through as many rooms as he could manage, when they were making their way through the building to its center, the section reserved for the most important people (and therefore also the most expensive), and he had seen a number of different arrangements as well. Many of the rooms were designed to allow for specialized tastes – voyeurism, cuckolding, torture weapons – Iywel had seen enough to know that all of it happened here though he could not guess as to its frequency. At any rate, each room must have cost enough to maintain that at least one family of four from fleabottom could run their household on that much gold. Iywel took a guess that Littlefinger must be making a profit of at least as much as it took to run each room, or it was not likely to be worth the time of a nobleman to associate himself with an activity that was, at least according to the conventional wisdom of the masses, immoral and in direct opposition to the principles propagated by the seven.
Their current room was not altogether an exception- large but dimly lit with a luxurious bed in the centre. Scattered across the room in several distinct spots were a few small tables, on top of each was a jug of wine and a few cups into which they could be poured. The dwarf had been the first to pour himself a cup. He had finished one cup before any of the others even made a move towards the jug.
But around fifteen minutes had passed now, Tyrion had told an incredible tale and the rest of them also had enough wine inside of them to relax. Iywel pulled his pipe out, but before he could light up, a young lady wearing no clothes sidled up to him and replaced the pipe in his mouth with her finger. Iywel gently sucked on them, and put his arm around her. When he was free to speak again, he requested her "that's lovely darling, but I really would like a few drags on my pipe."
"Of course you would" Tyrion interjected. "I had a word with the attendant outside and he's on his way with something rather exciting."
"All righty then" said Iywel. To the girl on his lap he said "Well, I suppose we ought to get to know each other a little."
"Which parts would you like to start with?" she said giggling a little.
"How about this one?" he asked, kissing and then slightly biting the part that he liked. It's counterpart right next to it hardened slightly. The girl let out a soft, gentle sigh to let Iywel know she was enjoying herself.
There was a brief knock on one of the four doors through which the room could be entered and a young boy with blond hair entered carrying with him a pipe, longer and more expensive looking than the one in Iywel's possession and what looked like a pouch of tobacco. He looked around the room and Tyrion pointed at Iywel and his new companion.
Iywel, now had his left hand in the region between her legs, and from the look on her face, it seemed as if he were moving his fingers and moving them well. As soon as he noticed the young lad, he gave her a couple of light knocks on her bottom, indicating that it was time for her to rise.
"What's your name love?" Iywel asker her.
"Armeca" she replied in a coy voice, but with her skin no longer touching his, Iywel was able to detect the hours of practice that had gone into producing that effect.
"Why don't you go over there and get to know my good friend Bronn a little?" he continued.
"I already know her, mate. Very well, I'm afraid" said Bronn. Armeca smiled, betraying that she was in fact well acquainted with Bronn and his inimitable behavior.
"What about your colleague?" asked Tyrion, his head motioning slightly in Hartene's direction.
"Hart doesn't do well with women" Iywel said simply. There was a note of finality in his voice. For the first time, since they had entered the establishment was there a hint of the tension that had characterized the sum total of their interaction prior to that.
"My lord, if you're worried about paying for the additional guest, I'm sure master Baelish would be willing to work out an arrangement of some form" said the blond boy.
"No need for that Olyvar. Just put it on my tab and Master Baelish should be satisfied. A Lannister always pays his debts, after all."
"Very good sir" said Olyvar. "The pipe was hard to get hold of. There will be an additional service charge on that. It should be around-"
"Shut the fuck up, Olyvar. Just put it on the tab and fuck off" said Bronn, smiling as always.
Olyvar was about to say something in reply, but when Tyrion nodded at him, it was a signal that it was okay to do exactly as Bronn had instructed.
When he left the room, Iywel felt it was okay to talk business with the Lannister lordling. "So about this fellow you think is running around King's Landing sticking knives in people?"
"My goodness me Iywel. Such matters are not for the delicate ears of-"
"Armeca" supplied Bronn.
"-dearest Armeca. Perhaps we can wait a little while as Bronn and her conduct their usual business. I certainly am in no hurry." He held up what might have been his sixth or seventh glass and gave it a small shake. Iywel had stopped counting after the Lannister's third. He had often found that if a man was capable of drinking more than three glasses in a span of 15 minutes and still talking soberly, then it tended not to matter how many more he would consume. Wine clearly coursed through the veins of Tyrion Lannister, who even after many a glass was alert enough not to discuss sensitive matters in front of prostitutes. That was more than could be said for Iywel who had forgotten after just his second. Hartene on the other hand had downed an entire jug without even resorting to the glasses, but his problem lay not in how much the wine reduced his tactfulness, it was the amount of tactfulness he carried around to begin with. Bronn had paced himself well, paying more attention to the ladies than the beverage. He seemed mildly disappointed after a while longer, when Tyrion instructed the three semi-clothed ones around him to leave the room. The establishment had worked its magic, absorbing the tension between the four of them like a sponge in water. It allowed for a platform where Tyrion could now lay out his agenda, without (unduly) worrying about Hartene charging at him.
Tyrion Lannister opens the dialogue "As I was saying before we received female company, there is an assassin on the loose here in King's Landing. Under normal circumstance, it wouldn't take more than a few days of detective work by myself and Bronn here to ferret him out. But my time is precious and limited -"
'which is why you spend time in a high class brothel drinking expensive wine and ogling beautiful women with two strangers whom you've never laid eyes on before' thought Iywel to himself, while being grateful that the wine had not completely loosened his tongue.
"-with the arrival of Stannis imminent. It is precisely for this reason that I seek your help."
"What makes you think that we are going to be of any help?" asked Iywel, genuinely curious as to why the Lannister was picking them. Sure they were tough, but they did fail against a real soldier of the Lannister army after all – a soldier Tyrion was willing to sacrifice to enlist their help or perhaps keep his entire involvement a secret. It was unlikely to be the second of the options, if the Imp wanted this to be a secret this badly, he wouldn't have risked bringing them here. So it had to be that they had somehow inadvertently impressed the youngest of Lord Tywin's children enough that he was willing to kill. Iywel had heard stories of how Tyrion was the most merciful of the three offspring. It made him shudder slightly to think of what Jaime and Cersei, not to mention Lord Tywin himself were like.
Tyrion was regarding him coolly now. When he spoke it wasn't clear whether it was directed at Iywel or Hartene or both, but he commanded attention anyways. "Ser Davos is the most trusted of Stannis' knights. Do you know what he was before Stannis knighted him?"
"He was a smuggler" said Iywel.
"A lowly smuggler. An unlearned man, a simpleton who puts too much faith in the Seven. Today he is running from pillar to post amassing an army for Stannis even as the fool has turned to worship another" came the reply, now directed clearly at Iywel.
"I hear it's the red priestess that he worships. In his own way of course."
"Of course. But you can see why Stannis is dangerous. You understand of course why he makes a talented leader. Stannis isn't loved. Yet, when he declared himself lord of Dragonstone, there was no opposition. Robert Baratheon may have been a fool, or may have even seen something in his younger brother. Of that we shall never know. But the fact remains that Stannis is in fact an extremely able man, a force that must be reckoned with. It is for the very same reason that I consider you an extremely able man, Iywel."
The flattery seemed to work. Iywel loosened a little. He lit up his new pipe, with the more expensive tobacco. The boy Olyvar had in fact made an excellent point about the rarity of the pipe and the tobacco. This was some of the best that Iywel had ever smoked. It was mixing itself with the wine that he had taken as well. Fool, that he was. His guard was now down, he would soon nod to just about everything the Imp would say or if things went more out of his control, he would tell the Lannister exactly what he thought about high society. Not just here in King's Landing, but high society everywhere.
"You have an inquisitive and skeptical mind" said Tyrion.
'I have an inquisitive and skeptical mind' Iywel found himself thinking without questioning the Imp.
"You also have a knack for spotting talent, where others merely see a dangerous man."
'Yup, that too' Iywel found himself nodding and looking at Hartene who nodded back vigorously.
"Hartene may not be much of a tactician at close quarters when it comes to choosing his words carefully. Even the best of us aren't at times. Clearly however, he is a man of action. He has also made it clear that he is not afraid of the sight of blood. Abundantly clear, if I may be so bold."
"You may" said Hartene out loud.
"Thank you" said Bronn. Hartene turned to face him. The flash of worry on his face quickly turned into amusement as the big man stumbled over to him, patted him on the back and then collapsed, briefly falling on the edge of the bed before crumpling to the floor below.
"However" continued Tyrion, ignoring most of what had happened "I have only seen you on this one occasion-"
"That I know of" Iywel corrected him.
"-that you know of" agreed Tyrion "But you can see why I should be eager to see exactly how skilled you are and where your strengths lie. Armeca's services don't come cheap you know. I do want to make sure I'm spending my father's gold wisely."
"What would you want me to do? Fight the fucking mountain?" asked Iywel, little more aggressively than he intended. Habits tended to stick. They also tended to manifest themselves in ways unknown to their possessors.
"You could start with me" volunteered Bronn.
"Sounds like a worthy challenge" said Iywel. "I will see you on the 'morrow."
Tyrion smiled to himself. The best way to flatter a person, much like the best way to offend a person was by telling the truth.