Chapter 8: The Road to Hell
The letters patent were in his hand. Darry. A handsome gift. Harry had learned a lot about this world and his place in it in the last few hours. Darry was to go to his cousin Lancel Lannister, but Lord Tywin had thought Harry was the more suited. Lancel had been given Oldstones, instead. Harry did not know what to think of that. A newly minted lord, he was sitting in an intimate chamber adjoining Lord Tywin's solar with only Lord Tywin, his brother Ser Kevan, and son, Lord Tyrion for company. Everyone was solemn. Lord Tywin was pacing.
"It is a precarious peace," Lord Tyrion agreed, "but peace never the less."
Lord Tywin paused to look at his son. "A peace for now." He then added in disgust, "a peace that joins Dorne, the North and the Reach. It was Tyrell support that broke Stannis's back, and the Tyrells have declared that they'd rather wed Margaery to Oberyn Martell than to you or to Jaime or to Hareld."
"I am a monster," said Lord Tyrion, as if this was a minor matter that did not affect him at all. "Jaime is a Kingsguard, and has been maimed besides. I am sure that if we look, we will find that there is some defect that makes Hareld unsuitable. They have accepted Cersei's hand, though. Lord Sirius is to wed Cersei within the week. Surely that means something."
"They have turned down Casterly Rock for a second son of a house they mislike," said Lord Tywin coldly. "They feel the insult strongly."
It appeared to Harry that Lord Tywin was feeling the insult quite strongly as well. Lord Tywin had hoped that the Tyrells would be tempted to wed Margaery to Ser Jaime, Lord Tywin's elder son. It was to be expected that Tyrion's hand would be rejected. Jaime though was thought to be handsome, gallant and an excellent match. Well, except for the fact that he had murdered a king, and had vowed to own no property or take a wife. Even so, Lord Tywin had managed to bully his grandson into agreeing to dismiss his son from service, to uphold the honour of the King's former betrothed. Even now, the draft decree was lying on the table, written in excellent calligraphy by a particularly gifted scribe:
Ser Jaime Lannister has served as my Kingsguard, and has upheld his vows with honour in the battle against the rebel Stark. In his service, he has lost his swordhand, which prevents him from performing all his duties as Kingsguard.
In his keeping with his Knightly vows to be brave, to be just, to defend the innocent and protect all women, and in honour of his service, I, King Joffrey Baratheon, command him to wed Lady Margaery Tyrell, should this be her wish, and restore her honour. I hereby decree that Ser Jaime Lannister be freed from his vows as a Kingsguard, and be reinstated as heir to Casterly Rock, and serve as a loyal knight to the throne till he obtains his inheritance.
Joffrey Baratheon, First of His Name
King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord Protector of the Seven Kingdoms
Lord Tyrion looked a bit uncomfortable. Harry had learned why.
With Ser Jaime serving as Kingsguard, Tyrion Lannister was the presumed heir to Casterly Rock. This was something Lord Tywin could not countenance. He had declared, rather vehemently in Harry's opinion, that Tyrion would never be his heir. Harry had learned that Lord Tywin resented Tyrion for the death of the Late Lady Lannister, as well as for being a dwarf. Harry, brought up by relatives who hated him could sympathise. But that said, Harry couldn't help but note that inspite of this dislike, Lord Tyrion was treated much better by his father than Harry had ever been treated by the Dursleys.
Even as the decree lay unsigned, with the suit rejected by the Tyrells, Ser Jaime was on his way to Casterly Rock. The queen had thrown quite a fit when her father had told her that Jaime was to be sent to there. Her father pointed out that the forces of Casterly Rock would be better mobilised for the defence of the crown if there were an active leadership there. Kingsguard served the King, she had said. One knight or ten thousand swords, her father had asked. The queen had left the room in a rage.
Two more letters patent lay on the desk. These were signed, rolled neatly and tied. One declared Tyrion the Lord of Castamere, while the other awarded Tarbeck Hall to Ser Rolph Spicer - Hermione's father in this world. Lord Tywin had gifted Castamere as compensation for Casterly Rock. With the suit rejected, Tyrion was now both Lord of Castamere and heir apparent to the Rock.
"We still have an alliance with the Tyrells: Cersei is to wed Lord Sirius," repeated Tyrion.
Lord Tywin scoffed. "A second son. It is better than nothing, of course, but will it be enough to keep the peace? And a peace bought dearly, too. I had to promise the Tyrells quarter of a million dragons, and Nunn's Deep for Cersei and Sirius. The Tyrells would have been mad to reject the offer."
Harry did not know what to think of this. High politics was not something that Harry had any experience with or something that he particularly cared for. It seemed very unfair that Lord Tywin and Lord Mace Tyrell could order their children's lives the way they wished to. The queen had been reluctant, very reluctant to remarry, and she had a glint of determination that did not bode well for Sirius. She had agreed in the end, though. Harry would have to alert Sirius to the danger posed by his intended. Sirius, Harry knew, was unhappy with the match as well.
Harry had met Sirius shortly after returning alongside Lord Tywin to the Red Keep. They had been making arrangements for Joffrey's wedding, and they had left the city to ensure that there would be no external disturbances when they had got the news. Only Harry had been able to keep up with Lord Tywin. It seemed as if Harry's talent with the broom had translated well to riding a horse. Lord Tywin had ridden back hard when he heard of Lady Margaery's rape, and Joffrey's subsequent conduct, and most everyone else in their party had been left behind. Harry had been horrified as well, and had offered himself as a possible match if it meant saving a lady's honour. That had pleased Lord Tywin.
Sirius said that the Lannisters were evil. Harry wasn't sure whether this was true. That Joffrey's stupidity had upset Lord Tywin was not in doubt, and in general Harry found that he and Lord Tywin agreed on most things. Did that make Harry evil, too? He couldn't help but remember the conversation that he'd had with Lord Tywin, on whether ends justified the means. Shortly after that Robb Stark, Sansa's rebel brother, had been murdered as a wedding guest. Was that evil? Lord Tyrion had certainly thought so, though Harry couldn't help but agree with Lord Tywin when he had asked whether it was better for thousands to die rather than a single man. Did Robb Stark's position make him more human than the thousands of soldiers who served him? Was that not akin to the thoughts of certain purebloods like Malfoy?
Harry did not want to deal with questions like this, of what was good and what was evil. He wished he could return to Hogwarts where questions like these rarely arose. And now he was Lord of Darry. Made a lord because Lord Tywin thought that Harry was good at dealing with such questions. Perhaps the hat had been correct in suggesting Slytherin, Harry thought despondently.
Our choices decide what we are, Harry remembered. Whatever may come, he swore to himself, Harry would not become a man he could hate.
There was no doubt about it. Sansa Stark was afraid of Granger. Severus couldn't blame her. He was scared of her too. It took a lot to kill. Severus hadn't killed anybody ever (at least not directly). Severus was capable of ruthlessness, he knew. He would even accept a degree of amorality. He had been a Death Eater, after all, but even he would not have had the conviction to end a life with the ease that Hermione Granger showed. This wasn't immaturity or a half-thought out plan, akin to Potter's escapades. This was calculated. Against an unarmed opponent. Severus suppressed a shiver. For a few moments Severus had been reminded of Bellatrix Lestrange. Bella had the same conviction, the same sense of righteousness that Granger did.
It did not matter though, whether Sansa hated Granger or was scared of her. Or whether he was for that matter. The queen had ordered Granger to enter Sansa's household, and neither of them really had a choice.
Severus's half-brother was expected today. Prince Oberyn Martell. He knew nothing of the man.
Sansa was in the adjoining room, one that she had taken up as her own bedchamber, when Granger had finally reported for duty. Severus was in his room alone. The first thing that he had done on seeing Granger was to demand her wand. Granger had been reluctant to part with it, but her contrition overwhelmed her sense of self-preservation. She had been quite afraid for the few seconds that Severus had pointed the wand at her. He had relished her uncertainty, but he couldn't attack her. They needed to unite to get out of this mess. Any retribution would have to wait till they got back to Hogwarts. He swished the wand, Granger flinched, but all that had resulted were some sparks that had spread across the room and disappeared. He smirked.
A wide-ranging charm he told her. To prevent persons outside the room to overhear conversations. Granger had the actual gall to ask Severus for the incantation and the wand movements. He had glared at her, then. "Do you really expect me to teach you any spells? You who weaponised a floating charm?" Granger at least had the sense to say nothing.
"It's a bit beyond your abilities anyway," he had added nastily, the bloody know-it-all so proud of her abilities. Her eyes lowered. Good. She needed to know how horribly she had fucked up. Yet, if one thing he had learned, it was that one did not cut one's nose to spite one's face. He hated to admit it, but a charm to stop eavesdroppers was invaluable in this world, and one that the Hogwarts party needed to know. Granger could help him. She was in with the Lannisters. The queen's creature, as he had learned from Sansa.
Quid pro quo.
"But perhaps I may have something more your level...I am obliged by the Hogwarts oath to care for your safety, after all." There was no oath, but there was no harm in letting his students think that he was bound by a particularly burdensome oath of Dumbledorean manufacture. He needed them to know that they could trust him with their safety. "Muffliato. Spoken or non verbal, straight jab." He had returned her wand to her. Granger had been surprised, but grateful...
She had done her best to get Severus the information he needed, after that. Much of it was common knowledge, she said, and points of the outline all agreed. There had once been a mad king, whose son had disappeared with Sansa Stark's aunt. When her brother and father had come to demand justice, they were murdered by the mad king plunging the realm into war. The mad king's son Rheagar Targaryen (the queen had a thing for him, Hermione couldn't help but notice), was married to Elia Martell, who died in the aftermath of the war. Her children were murdered as well.
Then came the points of disagreement: whether Lyanna Stark had been abducted or whether she ran away willingly, whether Elia Martell had been raped and murdered or merely killed in a whirlwind of blood lust...Severus, though wasn't at the scene, and had therefore escaped with his life. He had been found, by some accounts, in the dungeons, in some others, he had been visiting a whorehouse, and in others yet, he had fled like a coward and hidden away when word came that King's Landing had been taken.
If Prince Severus was anything like Severus Snape, (and were they not the same person in this world?), Severus was sure that he hadn't been to a whorehouse. He was equally certain that he had not hidden away. It was possible that he had been shut in a dungeon, but the whispers that Severus heard wherever he went, of being a coward, belied that. There was a mystery here. One that, a prickling at the back of his mind told Severus, had considerable significance...
There would be time for mysteries later, however. Granger had more information to share.
If Lannister gossip were to be believed, Prince Oberyn and he did not get along. Prince Oberyn blamed Severus for surviving when their sister Elia had died. Severus didn't know the story, and he had tasked Granger to find all that she could about it. It was the least she could do after trying to kill him. Severus felt no guilt in driving her hard. He hadn't forgotten about Granger's attempted murder, and he was not sure whether he was capable of forgiving it either.
There was little that Granger could gather about his half-brother, but the little that was there painted quite a colourful picture.
Prince Oberyn Martell, younger brother of Doran Martell, the Prince of Dorne.
Quite a reputation indeed. He was known to poison his weapons, had crippled the heir of Highgarden, was a renowned fighter who fought dirty, had been a mercenary in his youth, had slept with half the Kingdom, and wanted revenge against the Lannisters. It was rumoured that he was half-mad. Severus could believe it. He had brought his bastard paramour to a place where Granger was disdained for not being high born enough, and where his birth had been made him an acceptable match for a teenager!
The information exchange had stopped then. Sansa Stark had entered, and seeing Granger had very nearly turned back. It didn't matter, though. Stark had courage, Severus had to admit. It was of the Longbottomish variety, but it was courage, nevertheless. Granger had followed Sansa into the next room and helped her dress for her goodbrother, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts.
The dark walls were a comfort to Jon's eyes when he woke up. Castle Black at last. It mattered not whether Jon survived or not, as long as he gave the message. The undead were going to attack. They had to be prepared. A war out of legends was coming...
