300 AC

Ser Barristan Selmy

Ser Rolland had informed him that he had slipped the scroll into the tunic of Armen Flowers when he had been in talks with Lord Peake. No doubt he would have seen it if he went to take off his armor.

And so quietly, without any fanfare, they had roused their host in the middle of the night. If the bastard of Starpike was tempted enough, the gates would be open for them.

And it did not take long for them to see that greed could inspire any man to do anything that another would wish.

It had been the middle of the evening. The moon had reached its apex in the sky. When, all of a sudden, the gates of Starpike opened. And not by just a creak, but totally opened.

Ser Barristan was wary of such a sign, however. He would have expected the gate to be opened only a tad. Hopefully the bastard did not turn their offer into trap against them, to be lured in only to be slaughtered in the castle.

But they could deal with such a thing if it came. Now, now was the time for action. And so, with the wave of his hand, he ordered that a small party of his troops onward. In order to close the distance quickly, fifty men-at-arms, riding mounts, led by Ser Rolland Storm, galloped forth with great speed.

Watching from the darkness, he, along with Lord Caron and Selmy, noticed how the group of men arrived at the open gate. But instead of the trap he suspected, Ser Rolland got off his horse and…shook hands with a man?

No sooner had he thought that, did Ser Rolland wave for two of the riders to ride back towards them. Only some moments, both arrived in front of him.

"Ser Barristan!" "Lord Commander!" The two yelled out differently.

"Yes, what is it? Does Ser Rolland need us?"

One of the two laughed out. "No need Lord Commander! All the guards within Starpike have surrendered! He ordered us to requestion your presence."

So aye, Ser Rolland does need us. "Very well. Join us in our advance."

Riding through the gates of Starpike, he observed as Ser Rolland was organizing troops when he turned to see their party. Strutting towards the group, he grabbed the bastard that Ser Barristan now recognized.

"Ser Rolland, it seems that we had no need to fight."

"Aye ser, here is Armen Flowers."

"Master Flowers, it seems that we have you to thank for putting an end to this madness."

The man gave a greedy sneer. "Of course Lord Commander. Though, to be truthful, many of the household have long ago grown tired of my father…and his bitch of a wife."

As if on cue, said terrible father and said 'bitch' were dragged out of the keep. When Titus Peake saw his bastard speaking with the royal forces, he knew what had happened.

"Bastard! Fucking traitor! I'll have your head on a fucking pike!" Spit flew out of his mouth. "I should have crushed your skull as a babe when your cunt of a mother brought you before me!"

Not allowing Armen to respond, Ser Barristan stepped forward. "Titus Peake; not once, but twice, did you refuse a royal command. I have already given you more time than ordered to by His Grace."

"Go to hell Barristan the 'Bold' ha! More like Barristan the Brittle! I should've known that such a traitor to the Targaryens would've had underhanded plans!"

Ignoring the enraged man, Ser Barristan continued. "Titus Peake, on the authority personally granted to me by the King, you are hereby attainted. From this point forth, you are no longer the Lord of Starpike. Until the King has decided your sentence, you are to be remanded back to the capital of King's Landing, to be placed under the custody of the Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark. Further, until the King deems fit to give Starpike to another, I shall appoint a castellan in its interim."

"Fuck off! The Peakes have held Starpike for thousands of years, we'll hold them for thousands more!"

"Titus Peake, tell me of your host. If you give me useful information, I will be sure to tell the King of your cooperation." He had kneeled down to meet the bounded man at eye level.

Titus Peake spit in his face. "Fuck you Ser Barristan, and a pox on you!"

Calmly, Ser Barristan wiped the fluid from his face before silently gesturing for the…former Lord of Starpike to be removed from his presence. Lady Peake, now Margot Peake, was glaring at him as well as the bastard.

But when Ser Barristan turned, Armen Flowers had a look of anger on his face. "Ser Barristan, I was promised that I would be made the Peake in Starpike! This is an outrage!"

"Calm yourself." He responded sternly. "There was no such promise, just a slip of parchment. Now on my words to His Grace, I can make your legitimization all but guaranteed. But if you do not cease your words of anger, I will forget what you have done for us."

The bastard glared at him, but wisely held his tongue.

Ser Barristan turned to the other lords and knights.

"Gentlemen, come, we have a great amount of work to do."

Tyrion Lannister

It had been a number of moons since he had returned from the North. And in that time, it seemed his entire life was turned upside down on him.

Jaime and Cersei arrested for treason, his father engaged in his own rebellion to free them, and chaos and civil war in the Reach.

Curiously, he continued to hold his position of Master of Coin under Lord Stark, even after his siblings and father's treason. He would not ask why though; he would not risk losing what little influence he already had. He believed that it was at least partially his role that spared his brother's life so far.

Besides, perhaps it was cruel, but he truly did not care about his sister and his father.

His sellsword Bronn, though he hadn't told him the specifics, let him know regardless that at some point, Jaime had confessed to being the father of Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.

Truly, it had broken his heart. Joffrey was much like his sister, quite cruel and mad. But Myrcella and Tommen did not deserve to be punished for their parents crime.

But at the moment, he pushed those thoughts away. With Bronn at his back, he marched up the Tower of the Hand for a meeting of the Small Council.

Entering the chambers, he took note of present company.

At the head of the table sat the cold and dower Eddard Stark. To the right of Lord Stark, sat the unofficial second to the Lord Hand, the Master of Laws, Lord Stannis Baratheon. Across from Lord Stannis and to the left of Lord Stark sat the Master of Ships, Lord Jason Mallister. Moving to take his seat, Tyrion sat just to the left of Lord Mallister, Lord Stark giving him a respectful nod. He couldn't remember the last time he received one of those.

Just across from him sat Varys; the mysterious bald man who seemed to know all…or at least pretend to.

And yet, they were still down one seat.

"It seems we are in need of a new grand maester. Perhaps the new one would remember their particular vows." Lord Mallister let out an amused chuckle, while Stannis simply gritted his teeth, as he always does. Truly, 'tis a miracle he had not yet broken one.

"Yes, Pycelle's head looked positively confused. As if he didn't know why his head was on a spike." Varys muttered.

After Pycelle was discovered to have reported news of the capital to his Lord father, Lord Stark personally sentenced him and took his head.

"No matter." Lord Stark spoke. In a tone so icy, it reminded him of his father. "A raven has been sent by an acolyte…under the supervision of Allard Seaworth, to the Citadel. They'll no doubt have a new grand maester chosen for us in some time."

Lord Stark shuffled some parchments in front of him. "But, on to more pressing issues. Lord Varys, your report?"

The eunuch bowed deeply. "My Lord Hand, my little birds have whispered in my ears from all across the Reach. It seems that forces under Ser Stafford Lannister were sent south along the Ocean Road." At every mention of a Lannister, people would turn to look at him. "They defeated the underprepared host of House Oakheart just outside their castle."

Lord Stark grimaced. "I know of Ser Stafford. Though his son has skill, he leaves much to be desired. How did he defeat a house known for their martial abilities?"

"According to my little birds, another force of the Reach, under House Stackhouse, joined the battle at some point. The men of Old Oak believed them to be a relief force, only for them to join the Westermen and slaughter them."

"And House Oakheart?"

"They've been put under siege, though they have not the host anymore to offer any true resistance. Lady Arwyn is still ruling the castle, but her second son, Ser Aemon perished and her eldest and heir, Ser Alyn was put in a deepsleep."

Stannis turned to the Hand of the King. "Word must be sent to my brother, as well as Ser Arys about his family."

"Aye, that it must. Any more news?"

"Yes unfortunately. It seems a number of houses of the Reach have plotted to join in Lord Tywin's treason."

"Which ones?"

"House Stackhouse of course, House Dunn of Whitegrove, House Bridges of Dunstonbury, and House Peake of Starpike, though not officially as much as the other ones. However…"

"Yes?"

Varys turned to Stannis. "It seems that the Master of Laws' former wife's family is the ringleader of the rebellion in the Reach."

Stannis ground his jaw even harder then it seemed.

"In lighter news however, it seems that your sons are leading an exemplary campaign against Lord Tywin, my Lord Hand. Only some days ago, your heir, Robb, won Harrenhal from a force of Westermen led by Lord Andros Brax." He turned to Lord Mallister. "Your own son, Ser Patrek, seems to have conducted himself valiantly my lord. He is currently under command of Lord Karstark, though his host has been recalled from their positions."

"Good. Keep me updated on any news."

Varys bowed deeply again. "Of course, my Lord Hand."

"Lord Mallister, report."

"Lord Stark, the royal fleet has finished their repairs and filled their stores. At your word, they can be sent anywhere you wish."

"We should send it so the Reach, at least a squadron to relieve Old Oak from its siege, I believe the castle faces the sea." Stannis argued.

"Certainly we need a presence in the Sunset Sea, but I am wary of sending the entire royal fleet across the other side of Westeros without a reserve." Stark turned to Mallister. "Find a capable captain and send for him. I'll grant him the title of 'Admiral of the West' and place a sizable portion of the fleet under his command. You'll remain here with the rest; in case we require ships."

"My Lord Hand." Lord Mallister bowed.

Stark then turned his powerful gaze on him. For a moment, it felt he was on trial. Stannis glared at him, no doubt believing he too should be arrested. Mallister simply gazed at him expectantly. Varys gave him a kind smirk.

"Fear not Lord Hand. The realm's finances are in capable hands. My office have finalized our investigations into Littlefinger's businesses. The realm is still in heavy debt, but without any major expenditures besides the current war-"

"Rebellion." Stannis sternly cut in.

"…of course. Apologies. Besides the current rebellion, we are seeing a small growth in coin."

"Good. I want every last coin that is not being put into use, to be put into repaying the debts of the Iron Throne."

"I shall see it done, Lord Stark."

"Lord Baratheon, have you looked into what I asked?" Stark questioned.

"My lord, I must once more argue against this. My brother ordered you to execute them for their treason!"

"I will not have children executed. And if they can fulfill a purpose, I shall not yet execute the former queen or the Kingslayer."

Tyrion cringed at the moniker. He always loved his brother and did not enjoy other names for him.

"Such as?" Stannis challenged.

"For one, the Watch is always looking for skilled fighters.

Tyrion had to chuckle at that.

"Is something amusing, Lord Tyrion?" Stark grumbled.

"You'll have an easier time trying to make me grow, than making my brother go to the Wall."

"Better the Wall, then no head." Stark countered. Tyrion stayed silent at that.

"As for the children, Tommen, according to all witnesses and household, sees him as very inquisitive. He would make a good maester, which would conveniently resolve any potential attempts at seeing him upon the throne."

"I am also greatly fond of my niece." Tyrion interjected.

"Myrcella could be sent to the Silent Sisters or could simply be granted the Lannister name as well."

"I would prefer both Myrcella and Tommen to be granted the name, they have suffered enough."

Stannis grunted at that. Not an understanding grunt, but a disagreeing one. Tyrion had become something of an expert at reading the different grunt of Stannis Baratheon.

"As for Joffrey, he could also join the Watch, perhaps he would elect self-exile in Essos…though he has his own great madness to him."

"And the whore?" Stannis grumbled.

Stark looked off put by the label but continued, nonetheless. "Cersei could be allowed to join the Silent Sisters, or even become a septa."

Tyrion disagreed. "My Lord Hand, forgive me, but I must disagree with you on your assessment."

"Any why is that?"

"My sister is a woman who knows how to get what she wants. I fear until she is in the seven hells, neither I, nor you, nor the King, will ever be truly safe."

"You argue for your own sister's execution."

"Aye, I do. This is the South, not the comfort of the North, Lord Stark. My sister has personally attempted to end my life at least twice. I do not doubt she will try again if given the chance. Neither is she godly. The septas or sister will do nothing to stop her from reaching up again."

Stark was silent before he nodded. "Very well. But, until we can use them to convince your father to surrender, they shall remain alive, and under guard. You father will not accept less."

Fuck, that was true.

"Stannis, I am aware of Robert's orders, but I am still the Hand of the King, and in command in his absence. I shall inquire only once more. Find me options for the children and Jaime Lannister. I shan't ask again."

He turned to the rest of the council after staring at Stannis. "Anything else to report?" Tyrion was impressed how Eddard Stark had verbally thrashed Stannis Baratheon, infamous for is lack of emotion.

With silence or head shaking, Stark let out a sigh. "Very well. You all dismissed and have your orders."

Tyrion stood and left the chambers, running into Varys at the same time. "Ah! Varys, you seem well."

"Lord Tyrion, I must say the same. Admittedly, it is good to have a capable master of coin once more."

"From what I understand, you quite enjoyed your verbal spars with the former Lord of the Fingers."

"Oh they were amusing, no mistake, but he was always dangerous. Truly, had it not been for Lord Stark's ruthless justice, I may just have had to poison him at some point."

Tyrion gave a face of mock shock. "But Lord Varys! To murder a member of the small council is treason!"

Varys kept his face neutral, but his eyes gave away his amusement. "Have no fear my lord, I would guarantee that no one would find it was me."

"I never thought you had it in you to kill my lord."

Varys loosened his expressions. "Oh I find it so…boring. After all, why kill when you can eternally humiliate? Regardless, all I do is in service to the realm. Baelish would have been a disaster for the people."

"And how are those people?"

"Oh the city grumbled for some moons, but now that the Lord Hand's sons have relieved Harrenhal, the city should once more see a great influx of foodstuffs."

"I assume your little birds informed you of that?"

"But of course my lord."

The pair, with Bronn behind them, ended up in one of the side halls apart of the Great Hall. Tyrion elected to change the subject.

"You seem like a practical man."

"Oh I would like to think myself as a practical man my lord."

"It's a shame that practical men cannot have honest conversation."

"Truly a shame."

"Tell me Varys, what do you think of the new Hand of the King?"

Varys looked away, through one of the viewports in the walls, out to the sea. "He is able. I would have thought that he would have been eaten alive by lions here in the city."

"And yet?"

"It appears the wolf is not so foolish as previously thought. I admit that living in Westeros for so long, some prejudices have rubbed off on me. Eddard Stark has pleasantly surprised me."

"And why is that?"

"Because he is the only person I have seen, including Jon Arryn, to talk down His Grace from one of his murderous moods."

"And you find that admirable?" Tyrion did not have solid proof, but perhaps he was the only one to suspect that Varys harbored allegiances to the former dynasty.

"Oh aye. Robert Baratheon was the Warrior come again. But a warrior and a ruler are two very different things. You see, Robert Baratheon will only ever see reality if it was in front of him. If I told him two ravens were sitting at one of the gates into the city, he still would not believe. Yet, if there were two ravens sitting before him, he'd ask why I had not warned him of them. You see, the people of Westeros are obsessed with power. The smallfolk wish for the power of nobles, the nobles wish for the power of the king. Yet, Lord Stark has not shown such behavior."

"You have lived here for some time now Varys, surely he is not the only one you've met that seeks his duty, above anything else in the world."

"You are correct my lord."

"And who may this person be?"

"I would rather not say." Varys grinned.

Tyrion elected to ignore it, and grin back at him. "Very well, keep your secrets."

Varys bowed. "As always, a riveting discussion my lord. But, if you'll excuse me; the birds sing, and no one is there to listen." Without waiting for a response, the bald spymaster turned and continued down the hall.

Tyrion felt himself shutter. He had a feeling that Varys was perhaps the most dangerous person he had ever met. As if one would be more scared from a giant beast, while ignoring the venomous spider crawling on their hand.

Despite his best wish, Tyrion's responsibilities numbered more than just reporting to the small council. He had already met with the four Keepers of the Keys under his own office. When he was invested in his position, he learned that many of the offices under the master of coin were all Baelish's men.

He used his authority to rectify such issues.

But now, he was to meet with the King's Counter, the officer charged with all matter relating to specifically taxation and the collection of such.

Now, normally he'd only receive reports from such officers, but he had specifically been requested by the officer today.

Qarl Bywater was the nephew of Ser Jacelyn Bywater. He was also the heir to his house as well. He had been appointed by Tyrion as the king's counter after removing the previous man. Qarl was a lanky man, more comfortable behind parchment than a shield. But he had a head for numbers. And Tyrion hoped that if he was anything like his uncle, he'd have the honor to not robber the realm blind.

Entering the offices of the Counter, he made his way to the man's desk. "Lord Qarl! You sent for me?" Bronn was already reaching for a goblet of wine.

"Lord Tyrion, many thanks for your presence."

"Of course, what is it you require?"

"Yes, about that. You are aware that the King's Counter is also the Lord Judge of the Court of Gold?"

Though it was not as fancy or alluring as the courts of justice dispensed by the King or the Lord Hand, the realm was also in need of a court for financial matters. Under Daeron II Targaryen, such courts, dubbed the 'Courts of Coin,' were implemented. Three courts made up the courts of coin; Court of Gold, which handled all matters regarding financial matters with regards to nobles, the Court of Silver, which handled matters relating to merchants and craftsmen, and the Court of Copper, handling matters of the smallfolk.

The King's Counter was duel-hatted as the Lord Judge of the Court of Gold…apparently.

"Admittedly, I was unaware of this my lord. Regardless, please, continue, what is you need advice with?"

"My lord, recently a petition was sent to be heard by the court. Lord Belydon Chyttering accused Lord Monford Velaryon of misusing gold that had been given with stipulations."

Tyrion's face must have given off his confusion, as Qarl smirked kindly. "Aye, a confusing thing. Apparently Lord Chyttering had lent a loan to Lord Velaryon of two thousand gold dragons, with the stipulation that at least a fourth of it needed to be put to repairing some of the yards of Driftmark. It appears that Lord Chyttering was tired of merchants complaining of broken piers and unsafe yards."

Tyrion let out a sigh and hung his head in his hand. He offered another sigh, deeper this time before looking up. "Was a contract signed?"

"Lord Chyttering insists one was drawn up; Lord Velaryon denies such a contract exists."

He heard Bronn behind him chuckle.

Tyrion gave Qarl Bywater a look of utter contempt. "Fuck me."

And Bronn threw his head back and clutched his stomach from full blown laughter.

The realm is more than Small Council meetings…and much of it was bloody exhausting.

"Bronn…"

The sellsword, still chuckling, turned.

"Fetch the wine. We'll be here awhile."

*Apologies for the long update. I had already completed this chapter as well as the next one some weeks ago. I guess I just completely lost track of time. My bad. In addition, I felt good when I wrote this particular chapter, but after going back to it, I realized how I've steadily veered from the original goal of this story. Regardless, I see this story finishing up within ten or so chapters from now. Fear not! If you have seen my AO3 profile, you'll notice that I have added this to a series. I already have ideas for at least one sequel story to this one. I digress.