Seduced By Safety
The temporary peace Lyarra had enjoyed after Lefford's small-scale rebellion was abruptly shattered by a mere letter. As soon as Creylen handed her the letter, Lyarra saw the royal seal. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she opened the letter with shaking hands. I have done nothing wrong, she assured herself, yet Lyarra knew that wouldn't be enough for Cersei.
"Mother, look!" Jon called. They had been playing in the gardens when Creylen found her.
"One moment, Jon," she shouted back without even looking at him. She read the letter quickly and quite fearfully. Once she reached the end of the letter, she realised that it could have been much worse. "The queen wants me to return to King's Landing. Lord Tywin is back and she wants me to bring Jon as a surprise for him," Lyarra told Creylen bitterly. "Oh, and it seems we are to have a new queen."
"House Lannister prevailed against Stannis, I take it?"
Unfortunately yes, she wanted to reply, but bit her tongue before the words could come pouring out. "House Lannister is victorious," she told the old man who sighed with relief. Lyarra had to commend Creylen for how devoted he was towards House Lannister, even if it churned her stomach to think that anyone of House Lannister deserved such loyalty. "House Tyrell is now aligned with the crown. Margaery Tyrell is to be queen."
"A fine match. The Reach is a prosperous region that has had a bountiful harvest, and the people of Westeros are starving! It is wise of the king to wed Lady Margaery, if only for the Tyrell's grain," Creylen droned on.
Sansa is free of Joffrey, Lyarra thought gleefully. That was all she cared about. Sansa wouldn't have to marry the monster that had their father killed. Lyarra went over to Jon and hoisted him to her hip. "We have to pack."
"Why? Where are we going?"
"To King's Landing," Lyarra told him. "The queen wants to see you."
"Me? Why?"
Because she is a vindictive little bitch who wants me to fear for your life. "You know the queen is your aunt," Lyarra said. Jon nodded. "Well, she wants to meet her nephew. And she wants you to meet your cousins." Who are also your brothers. Lyarra almost laughed at how complicated her life had become.
"Have you been there before?" Jon asked as Lyarra brought him inside. His clothes were destroyed with grass and mud. Lyarra undressed him and put on new clothes.
"I have," she told him. "You were born there."
"I was?" Lyarra nodded and continued washing him. "Why?"
Lyarra chuckled. "Because I was there at the time and..." She trailed off, realising that she was opening herself up to a lot of questions that she didn't want to answer. "That's all there is to it. We have to leave tomorrow."
"Why soon?" Jon asked.
"Why so soon," Lyarra corrected. Jon gave her a look that Lyarra had never thought a boy of less than two namedays was capable of giving. Lyarra sighed. "Because the king is getting married in a few months and they want us there. I have to get to know the new queen."
"Why?"
"Because she is the queen," Lyarra said and gave a little laugh.
"I thought my aunt was queen."
"She is," Lyarra replied. She paused, unsure of how to answer Jon. Lyarra found titles confusing, how was she supposed to explain them to her infant son? "It's complicated. Your aunt is the king's mother, so she is the queen. This lady is marrying your cousin, the king, so she will be queen as well."
"Two queens?"
Lyarra nodded. "Two queens." She finished buttoning his doublet and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "There, all done."
Jon hugged her quickly before running off. Lyarra laughed and followed him down the stairs and into the courtyard, where he started to play with the children of Casterly Rock's household as well as some of Lord Tywin's bannermen's children. Jon got along with other children easily. He had a smile that drew children to him. In that way, Jon reminded her of Robb. Robb never had to make an effort when it came to making friends. It was a good quality for an heir to have. Jon was going to be Lord of Casterly Rock someday. Being well-liked would make things easier for him.
Leaving Jon in the hands of his nursemaid, Lyarra looked around the keep for Fang. She found her in the stables, barking at the horses and making them uneasy. Lyarra crouched down in front of her direwolf and scolded her.
"No more of that. If Pekkins sees you, he'll have you kept in the kennels day and night, regardless of whether I'm here or not." As though she understood Lyarra, Fang tilted her head to the side, her eyes wide and pleading. Lyarra scratched behind her wolf's ear and sighed. "I have to go away for a few months. That means you'll have to stay in the stables again. But the kennelmaster has agreed to let you out for an hour every day, so long as you behave." The whine that came from her wolf's lips startled Lyarra. Perhaps she understands me after all. She rose to her feet and bid Fang to follow her. "Come on. I won't have time to settle you tomorrow."
Fang whined again, but nonetheless she obeyed her mistress. Lyarra led her to the kennels and tied the rope loosely around Fang's left-behind leg, tears in her eyes as she restrained her wolf. When she restrained Fang, she felt as though she was restraining a part of herself as well. Fang was the North. Fang was her family. Fang was home.
Lyarra wiped the tears from her eyes and embraced Fang one last time before leaving her wolf alone in the kennels, with only the dogs for company.
"I don't like it."
Lyarra looked at Jon in confusion as they approached King's Landing. Jon had wanted to ride a horse for the first time so Lyarra let him share hers. He curled up against Lyarra as she struggled to keep control of the horse and ensure that Jon didn't fall off.
"What don't you like?" Lyarra asked, unsure if he meant the horse or the stench coming from the city.
"The horse," Jon whined. "My bum hurts."
She threw back her head and laughed. "Mine does too. You'll get used to it," she promised him, resting her chin lightly on top of his head.
"Stinks," he commented tiredly, pulling a face at the stench coming from King's Landing.
"You'll get used to that too," she replied, smiling, although it looked like more of a grimace. Lyarra had struggled to get used to the smell the first time she stayed in King's Landing. It smelled like shit and death. After a few days, Lyarra had found that the smell faded to the point where she barely noticed it anymore.
As they approached the gates of King's Landing, Lyarra spotted Lord Tywin and Tyrion waiting to greet her. Lyarra was surprised to see Tywin. He wasn't one for pleasantries, certainly not when it came to someone as insignificant as his son's wife. My only purpose is to be the Lannister broodmare, she thought bitterly. She realised that it was Jon he had come to see. Her only accomplishment.
She handed Jon to his nursemaid before dismounting her horse. She took a look around. Nothing had changed. Feeling uncomfortably aware of someone watching her, Lyarra looked up at the top window on the west side of the Red Keep, finding a beautiful young woman staring down at her. The woman gave her a smirk and disappeared.
Realising that people were watching her, she looked away and took her son back from Dorothe before going to greet her good-father and good-brother. Tywin wore a displeased look on his face as he looked between Lyarra and Jon, while Tyrion presented them with smiles. Lyarra noticed that a part of his nose had been hacked off and he had a long scar marring his face. Nobody had told her that Tyrion had fought in the Battle of Blackwater. Lyarra thought his small stature would render him incapable of fighting. Lyarra admired him for not letting that stop him. I wonder if Joffrey was as brave.
"King's Landing is no place for a child," Tywin said icily.
"The queen... requested I bring him," she replied bitterly. Lord Tywin was brilliant at hiding his emotions, so brilliant that Lyarra often wondered if he had any at all, but Lyarra could see equal measures of understanding and anger flood across his face. Lyarra placed a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Jon, this is your grandfather, Lord Tywin." She gave her son a pointed look that she hoped Tywin didn't notice.
"Grandfather," Jon greeted and gave Lord Tywin a clumsy bow.
Lord Tywin's cold eyes softened as he looked upon his grandson. Lyarra even thought she saw the ghost of a smile come upon his lips. She wasn't sure if she could even call it that, but it was the closest thing to a smile she had ever seen on Lord Tywin's face.
"He looks strong," Tywin commented, as though they were speaking of some great, diplomatic matter. "Does he take ill often?"
Lyarra blinked in surprise. "No. Not at all, really. He had a sniffle once," she replied uncertainly. She caught Tyrion snorting before he looked away, sporting a small smile.
"Good." Tywin turned around and bid her to follow him. Lyarra frowned at being treated like a dog, but obeyed nonethless. She gave Tyrion a small smile as she hoisted Jon to her hip and followed Lord Tywin to his solar.
He was staying in the Tower of the Hand. Lyarra got the same, horrible feeling she had the first time she sat in the Hand's solar. This was the last place her father stayed, back when King Robert ruled and there was no war. Lyarra pushed back her tears. She thought she had gotten over her father's death. It was unfair and cruel, but what could she do really? Every now and then, her heart broke for her father and the very thought of him made her tear up.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Tywin gestured towards the seat in front of his desk. She sat down and placed Jon on the floor, letting him run around. To her surprise, he sat at her feet and stayed quiet.
"You gave him a northern name," Tywin commented, glancing briefly at her son.
"I did," Lyarra replied simply. She needed no explanation.
Lord Tywin narrowed his eyes at her. Lyarra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "He is the heir to Casterly Rock."
"That he is," Lyarra responded. "But he is also my son. I am of the North. I gave my son a northern name."
He glared at her for some time, as though trying to get the measure of her. Lyarra refused to cower. She sat up straight and looked at him evenly. Not angrily or aggressively, but blankly. She had done nothing wrong.
After what felt like forever, Tywin's glare became less intense, though he wore his usual frown. "Jaime has been released."
She knitted her brows together in confusion. "Robb..."
"Not your brother," Tywin clarified. "Your mother let him go, for whatever reason. Perhaps she realised letting Jaime go was her best chance at getting her daughters back. Your mother is a clever woman." Tywin paused, gauging her reaction. "He's still leagues away from King's Landing. But he will be home soon."
Lyarra was silent. She hadn't expected Jaime to come home so soon. She thought she had another year at least before she had to face him. How am I to act when he comes home? Things were different now. They had a child together. She wanted her son to have a father and a happy life. But the thought of Jaime and Cersei... it both hurt and disgusted her.
She put aside her thoughts when Tywin started speaking to her again. Lyarra wondered if he knew about his children. Then she realised that if he did, it wouldn't matter. Lord Tywin would defend his family, his legacy, no matter what.
"Genna told me about the mess with Lefford," Tywin said. Lyarra wanted to bow her head in shame. "You made a mistake. You wounded his pride. Some men are volatile. Lord Lefford is one of them. You insulted his honour, his sister's honour and his niece's legitimacy." Lord Tywin narrowed his eyes at her. "Why?"
"Because the girl is a bastard," Lyarra replied evenly. "You only need look at her to know. It wasn't right."
"And the issue with Gregor Clegane?"
"Clegane raped two girls and pillaged their father's lands. He deserved justice."
Lord Tywin scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching Lyarra closely. "Ser Gregor is a loyal bannerman of House Lannister. He has served us well and you would do well to remember that." He paused, watching her reaction. Lyarra clenched her fists beneath the table and stayed quiet. "You're like your father. I had thought there was more of your mother in you. Your mother has the intelligence to do what is necessary. Your father was a man blinded by honour and his northern ideals."
"I made a mistake when I named Damon Hill the heir to Silverhill. It should have been Lefford's niece. I realise that now and I apologise for my stupidity." Lyarra watched as Tywin's lips curled upwards. When he did not speak, she continued. "However, I won't apologise for holding Gregor Clegane accountable for raping and pillaging. He's a monster."
"Yes, he is," Tywin replied. "But he's our monster. He does our bidding." Realising that she wasn't going to win this one, Lyarra pressed her lips together and didn't respond. "You mended the situation with Lefford well."
Knowing that was the extent of praise she was going to get from Lord Tywin, she took it with a nod. "He needs us more than we need him and he knows it."
"That he does. You have a mind for figures. Some people are better at dealing with numbers than they are with people," Tywin said. Lyarra wondered if that was his attempt at a joke. "Jaime struggled with numbers as a child. He still does. He said the numbers float around the page, an odd affliction."
She remembered Jaime telling her that. Numbers and letters never stayed in the right order for him. Jaime used to ask her to read to him because he struggled with reading. Lyarra never minded. She enjoyed reading. The books she read to Jaime were especially interesting because they were unsuitable books for young girls to read. They were about warfare, battle plans and leadership strategies, subjects girls weren't supposed to be interested in.
"You may go," Tywin gave her leave with the wave of his hand, dismissing her abruptly. Lyarra hoisted Jon onto her hip and awkwardly curtsied to her good-father, who didn't spare her so much as another glance, and walked out of his solar.
Rhea greeted her outside and led her to their chambers, the same ones Lyarra had stayed in when Jon was born. They spent the afternoon getting settled in and unpacking. She was folding her dresses when a messenger came into her room holding a piece of paper in his hand.
"From Lady Margaery," the messenger explained. Lyarra took the letter from him – it was more of a note, truly – and sent him on his way. She unfolded the note and read Lady Margaery's neat scroll.
Lady Lyarra,
It seems that we are to be relatives soon. I would like to get to know you. I am having lunch with my cousins at the Maidenvault. I would be delighted if you could join us.
Yours sincerely,
Margaery Tyrell
Lyarra folded the note and placed it inside a book, afraid that someone might find it and get the wrong idea. She found Jon running around what would be Jaime's solar and smiled. She sneaked up at him from behind and hoisted him into the air, making him squeal in surprise.
"You're enjoying yourself, I see," Lyarra commented, pressing a kiss to Jon's cheek.
"I like it here," he replied simply, beaming up at Lyarra. "Everyone's nice."
She grimaced at that. A child wouldn't understand the horrible games the lords played and how their smiles were never true. Lyarra brushed Jon's hair out of his face and placed him on the floor again, kneeling before him. "I have to go and have lunch with the future queen, but I'll be back before dinner."
"My aunt? Can I go?"
You wouldn't want to if it was. Lyarra shook her head. "It's not your aunt. The other one. The future queen. Aunt Cersei is queen now."
"The one that will marry my cousin?"
"Yes, that queen," she answered. She pressed another kiss to his forehead. "Rhea will take good care of you while I'm gone." She stood up and said to her handmaiden quietly, "Watch him on those balconies in case he has any bright ideas."
Rhea muffled a laugh with her hand. "Of course, my lady."
With that, Lyarra threw a light shawl over her shoulders and went to the Maidenvault, her heart beating violently in her chest. She had learned not to trust people who seemed to have good intentions, because often their intentions weren't good at all. What would Margaery Tyrell want with a married woman who was the daughter and sister of a traitor? What could she possibly have to gain?
She took in a deep breath as two guards opened the doors for her and stepped inside the area known as the Maidenvault. A group of ladies were giggling at something one of them had said. They stopped when they saw Lyarra. Lyarra spotted the woman she had seen earlier, watching her from the window. That was the woman who stood up to greet her, a large smile still on her face.
"Lady Lyarra, I am delighted you came! I didn't know if you were going to accept my invitation," the woman gushed. Lyarra took a guess at who she was. "I am Margaery Tyrell and these are my cousins. I won't burden you with their names. There are far too many." She chuckled to herself and gestured towards the chair on her right. "Come, sit with us. Will you have wine?"
"Wine? So early?" Lyarra repeated, sounding like silly little fool.
Margaery giggled. "Why, of course! Wine has too fine a taste to only drink it when it's dark." She gave Lyarra an insidious smile. "Come now, Lady Lannister. I suppose drinking is more restrained in the North?"
"My father only let us have a cup of wine at feasts," Lyarra told her.
"But now you are a married woman. With a child as well, I hear!" Margaery gushed, causing her ladies to giggle as though on cue. She poured Lyarra a glass wine and gave her another one of those smiles. "It's not strong. We're not that bad, are we, ladies?"
More giggling. They're like sheep. Is this what Margaery wishes for me to become? Another sheep in her flock? Lyarra forced a smile on her lips and took a sip. Margaery was telling the truth. The wine was weak yet sweet. Lyarra drank it eagerly.
"Butterbumps," Margaery called. Lyarra presumed that Butterbumps was the singing jester because he stopped singing as soon as Margaery called his name. "I do so love your voice! Will you do us all a favour and sing louder?"
The jester nodded and increased the volume of his voice as he belted out 'the Bear and the Maiden Fair.' Margaery's ladies had gotten louder as well, their giggles reaching a level of ridiculous loudness.
Margaery leaned closer to Lyarra, her hot breath ticking the skin of Lyarra's ear. "I was sorry to hear about your father. I heard he was an honourable man. He didn't deserve to die like that." Lyarra pulled away from Margaery slightly and looked at her with shock. Margaery merely gave her a small, sad smile. "My family and I may play the game like all the rest, but we don't have a stomach for cruelty. My brother strives to be honourable in battle and so do I, even if my battlefield is very different to his."
"Thank you," was all Lyarra said in response, though she choked on the two words.
"Your sister told me that Joffrey was cruel. I am to marry him and be his queen," Margaery said. Though she frowned, her eyes were alight with the prospect of being queen. "I can control him better than Sansa could. Perhaps better than his mother can. I will make sure he does not hurt her or you. Or your son."
Lyarra blinked in surprise. "I, I don't-"
"You don't have to thank me," Margaery replied with a pleasant smile on her lips, though there was a sinister twinge to her smile. "I wish for us to be good friends, Lyarra. May I call you Lyarra?" Lyarra nodded. "And so you may call me Margaery. I am a very loyal friend, Lyarra. I often do great favours for those I consider to be loyal to me as well."
True, genuine tears formed in Lyarra's eyes. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so overwhelmed by emotion, but she knew one thing. Her tears weren't for Margaery Tyrell. "I haven't had a friend in King's Landing since... ever, really. Lord Tyrion has been kind to me, but he is loyal to his family." Lyarra realised that she was opening up too much to this woman she had just met, yet she felt at ease with Margaery. Margaery made her feel safer than she had in a long time – protected, almost. "I should like to be your friend, my l- Margaery," she corrected with a smile of her own.
Margaery smiled back, an even larger, brighter smile this time. "Then it is settled! Oh, and I would so love for you to bring your son to meet us for lunch tomorrow. I saw him earlier today and, good gods, he is the image of you! Poor Ser Jaime – there's not a trace of him in your son."
Laughing, Lyarra replied, "You're not the first to say that. He reminds me of my brother actually."
"Robb Stark?" Margaery whispered in a low tone, so low that Lyarra barely heard her.
"A little," Lyarra said. "In how he acts and sometimes when he laughs. But mainly, he reminds me of my other brother Jon Snow. He looks so much like him."
"That is your father's... illegitimate son," Margaery stated.
"Yes, but he was raised with us so we were very close."
"It was quite daring of you to name your son after your baseborn brother, considering the circumstances. I admire you for that," Margaery said. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to dissect Lyarra's reaction. Lyarra tried to keep her face even.
"I never understood why such a big deal was made out of it. I love my brother. I only named my son after him to honour him."
"Still, it was rather brave of you," Margaery insisted. Another smirk came upon her lips as she leaned closer to Lyarra. "How do you think Ser Jaime will react?"
Lyarra smiled at that. "He was the one who proposed I give our son a northern name. He wanted to name the baby Joanna if it was girl, after his mother. He said it was only fair." She paused, thinking of the memory fondly.
Margaery noticed the fond smile on her lips and immediately jumped on it. "You had a good relationship with him."
"Does that surprise you?" Lyarra replied.
Though the question caught her off guard, Margaery kept the easy smile on her lips and replied calmly. "I only saw Ser Jaime a handful of times. He seemed as though he was only capable of loving his sword and armour, and his right-hand, perhaps." Margaery threw her head back and laughed. "Although it would surprise me if anyone in the world could resist you, I would not be shocked if Ser Jaime prioritised swordfighting."
She had to commend Margaery's brilliant use of words. She can weasel her way out of anything, Lyarra noticed, somewhat amazed. She smiled in response. "You flatter me, Margaery. Jaime and I... I won't pretend that it is love. But we were fond of each other, yes."
"You want to see him again," Margaery stated.
"Of course I do," Lyarra replied. "I want him to meet his son."
"But do you want to see him again?" Margaery asked, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she waited for Lyarra's response. She seemed to be accounting for every twitch Lyarra's face made, any sign that gave away Lyarra's true feelings.
Lyarra realised then that Margaery Tyrell's friendship and protection came with a heavy price.
"Yes. Of course I do. He is my husband."
"Of course," Margaery replied, a somewhat satisfied smirk on her lips as she sat back in her chair.
Realising that it was almost time for dinner, Lyarra brushed the wrinkles from her skirt and stood up. The jester stopped playing and the other ladies stopped laughing. "I have to go now. I promised Jon I would eat dinner with him."
Margaery stood to bid her farewell. "Come again, won't you?" Margaery said, standing right in front of Lyarra, so close that Lyarra could feel Margaery's breath on her cheek.
"I would be delighted to," Lyarra replied.
Smiling, Margaery pressed a kiss to the corner of Lyarra's lips and bid her farewell once more.
Lyarra left the Maidenvault confused and with a pit in her stomach, wondering what on earth the future queen's intentions were.
Author's Note: Ohhh we're back in King's Landing! The next few chapters will be very eventful. I love writing chapters set in King's Landing, there's so many dynamics to explore! I find writing Tywin really difficult, even though I really enjoy his character. Let me know if you thought he was a OOC!
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!