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Chapter 102

Tyrion I

With a sigh, he set his quill down and squinted at the daylight pouring through his window. Breakfast is wrapping up about now. I should probably head over before I forget, Tyrion thought, looking over the trade deal that they were renegotiating with the Reach.

Lady Olenna had naturally pulled for as much coin as possible, but Tyrion felt he had done a good job of bringing down the costs. Perhaps it was not so wise to make Lady Olenna mistress of coin. But then who else? He certainly had no candidates in mind and he had a feeling that no matter who was put forth as the master of coin, they'd work to find a way for the coin flow to benefit them. If anything, a guileless master of coin would be even worse. Lady Olenna was, at the very least, amenable and Tyrion felt he had sussed out a clear line to how far she was willing to push it. It was just a matter of drawing it back.

He put the trade deal on top of a stack of documents, put them under his arm, and headed out. He barely noticed the other nobility wandering around, nor whether they sneered at him or not. Ever since his brother had spilled the secret of his second life, Tyrion felt like the world had permanently tilted. He was unsure what to think anymore. It felt odd to have been so desperate to know the secret that his brother had been keeping from him since King Aemon revealed himself in Winterfell, but he wasn't so sure it was worth knowing.

To think that the King and Jaime have both bought into this insanity, he thought with a ponderous shake of his head.

Tyrion would never say so to Jaime. It pleased him that his brother had finally confided in him. He was shocked when Jaime had told him that Lord Stark and Ser Barristan had been informed clear back in Winterfell. He figured one of those men would have the good sense to talk reason into, well, at least King Aemon. But having spoken enough with the both of them, Aemon was no less zealous about that version of events than Jaime was.

And then they revealed the wight to the world. Tyrion had been just as shocked and terrified as everyone else, though he was still having difficulty accepting such an abomination, let alone a whole army of them, could exist. Yet Jaime and King Aemon had known! This was proof of what they had spoken of, yet it still had not righted Tyrion's world. Instead, he was miffed that this was another secret that they had kept from him, despite being mere weeks away from officially taking his position as Hand of the King.

Did they even trust him? Something told him that even after Jaime left and Tyrion officially assumed the role as Hand, Aemon would not rub elbows with him like he had Jaime. It weighed on his heart more heavily than it should.

After coming to understand what kind of misery Jaime has been in for so long, why can I not be happy for him? Tyrion thought morosely. But Jaime was abandoning him. He had married and now had to go to the North, even if grudgingly. He was likely to be mere months away from seeing his first child come into the world. When Jaime had just been a Kingsguard, it was a fate that they both shared: neither were to marry and neither were to have children. There was some comfort in not being alone, even if the reasons for it weren't the same.

But then at a king's word, Jaime was freed from that fate and Tyrion watched him fall in love with Brienne of Tarth—reclaimed his love for Brienne of Tarth, he reminded himself. His brother now had someone and Tyrion had no one. He was glad that his Uncle Gerion would stay in the city; he proved a good drinking buddy, especially with their shared family history of being the black sheep. Lord Willas at least was always up for a game of Cyvasse, but he wasn't much of a drinker and was a tad too serious for Tyrion's liking. Otherwise, he had no one. The only time he could touch a woman was after he'd given her coin. At no point in his time has a woman ever wholeheartedly smiled at him without first receiving an incentive.

And then Jaime had told him that there had been one girl, in the other life, who suffered a tragic fate at his father's hands. Tyrion had never even known the girl and the thought enraged him by what she suffered. He could see why Jaime would refuse to enact the same events that would lead to such a poor outcome for everyone. But now the old prick could not stand in his way. The odds of finding the particular girl were not even to be contemplated, but perhaps there was one, somewhere out there. Mayhap she was even noble.

He wondered if Jaime would care if he married far below his status. Jaime had, but Lady Brienne was still at least of noble birth, even if she didn't act like it. There were of course tales of old, the brave knight Samwise and his lady love Cerella. Even more recently, Lady Delphine had deigned to marry her husband Cyrus, who had been but a mere musician at the time; he could only imagine the outrage of her family. He doubted their horror would be far off from his father's at the very notion.

Patience, Tyrion cautioned himself. Jaime will be gone before too long and you will not have to concern yourself with him looming over you. He was unsure if Jaime would have much of an opinion of him trying to get married, but it chafed Tyrion's sensibilities at the thought of his brother prying into his affairs. Uncle Gerion would be bad enough.

"Tsk. You would think His Grace would have someone to hold open these doors," Lady Olenna said from behind him.

Tyrion gave her a shrewd look and as he reached for the door to the small council chambers, he pulled it back to hold for her.

"How lovely to see such respect," Lady Olenna said.

Tyrion returned her smile with an obsequious one that immediately fell from his face at the turn of her back. He made his way over to the other side of the small council chambers so that he was facing Lady Olenna. Lord Velaryon and Lord Willas were the next to arrive. Then King Aemon arrived and they stood in acknowledgment before he waved his hand so they could be seated. Master of harvest, Steffon Frey bustled in all blustery, his parchment a haphazard mess, having only just returned from dealing with the Ironborn in the Westerlands. Prince Oberyn swaggered in and was all smiles as he took a spot at the table. Healer David strode in quiet and serious, as usual.

To think I finally met someone with a face uglier than mine, Tyrion thought. He couldn't seem to help himself staring at the deep creases that crossed in jagged patterns on the healer's face. He hadn't been there to see the wound, but Jaime had described it and it was enough to churn Tyrion's stomach. All told, the old man was an affable fellow despite his often bristling countenance, but Tyrion found it irritating that he never had time for a game of Cyvasse.

Grand Maester Brunal walked in with an attitude of grave importance. Tyrion and Olenna shared exasperated looks as he passed them and sat down as stiff as a statue. Finally, his brother Jaime sauntered in, a smirk playing on his face, and he took the seat at the far end of the table.

"Lords and Lady, thank you for being here. We have much on the agenda today," King Aemon began. "As so many lords' armies will be marching north soon, I would like to discuss the strategy. We have been able to supplement the gold cloaks with the forces of Winterfell and Lannister, however, now we have to make do without. Lord Willas, do we have enough to manage King's Landing or should we consider recruiting and training?"

"Your Grace, I think stepping up the number of active Unsullied should be enough to fulfill the city's needs so long as the pirates are a threat. If you so wish it, House Tyrell would be happy to fill in the vacancies left by Winterfell with our own soldiers," Lord Willas said.

Aemon was shaking his head before he even finished. "I think not. The Reach is the most fertile in the land. Are not most of your soldiers from the fields? I would prefer they return to harvest for the autumn with the threat of this winter."

"We could always pay the pirates' ransom sooner," Lady Olenna said.

"We had an agreement, my lady. It won't be more than a month now before the pirates are paid in full."

"You already have the king's purse, my lady. How many more strings do you need?" Jaime asked.

Lady Olenna snorted. "Even for a Lannister, that's rich. Is the kingdom not already in considerable debt to House Lannister?"

"You might have a point, my lady, if I wasn't separating our coffers from the king's as we speak," Jaime said.

"Lord Lannister, Lady Olenna, please! I wish for us to stay on task," Aemon interrupted with no small amount of exasperation. "As it just so happens, I have been considering new avenues for generating coin to relieve the kingdom of its debts. Petyr Baelish's brothel is now in the possession of the kingdom. I have little interest in prostitutes myself, but could these not be reopened for the kingdom's benefit?"

Tyrion blinked. The prostitutes in Baelish's employ had been among the best and it was to Tyrion's great sorrow that the brothel had since fallen into decay. He himself had been considering asking his brother to strike a deal for it, but the brothel business was an uncouth one for a lord. Petyr Baelish had commanded respect, but it came hand-in-hand with disdain for his apparent proclivities. No matter how lofty Tyrion's position was with the king, it would likely stain House Lannister's reputation and the king's to be engaged in such a business.

"You would rather the kingdom balloon the treasury off the backs of whores than from the prominent houses?" Lady Olenna asked, that very same disdain evident on her face.

"Except it wouldn't be off the backs of whores, would it?" David said, cocking his head and frowning at Lady Olenna. "Rather off the backs of the wealthy lechers that populate this city."

"You would see it like that," Olenna said.

"Well … I would not vocalize my support in earnest, but something does need to be done about Baelish's brothels that the prostitutes are still using," Willas said carefully. "Apart from drunken fights in taverns, the brothels are yet another haven of crime. Those women suffer, but they meet the gold cloaks with a wall of silence. We either need to turn them out and repurpose the brothels or … we do what the king suggests."

Lord Velaryon had been quiet during the discussion, but he looked deeply troubled. "These are the kingdom's properties, but my concerns echo Lady Olenna's. It would be most uncouth for the kingdom to profit off of such."

"I think the idea has merit," Jaime said. "Apart from House Lannister's debt and House Tyrell's debt, we owe large debts to the Iron Bank as well. The Long Night may be some years out, but the preparations for it need to begin now and the coffers are stretched thin as it is. We need something of substance and we have little else we can part for it—again, due to the need to prepare for the Long Night. Brothels are quite profitable and I think it can only be a boon."

"As mistress of coin, I refuse to manage these brothels," Lady Olenna said, her mouth set into a firm frown.

Tyrion glanced at his brother and caught his eye. Jaime narrowed them in suspicion and gave him the barest shake of his head. Tyrion balled his fists up in annoyance, but then cast his eyes down. As he expected, his brother refused to entertain the notion of taking the brothels.

"Since I lack the nobility to find offense at such things, I volunteer to take the brothels," David said.

Tyrion noticed his brother turned his suspicion towards David.

Lord Steffon Frey snorted. "Revealing who you've always been underneath. Not fit for nobility."

"Lord Frey, I will not allow you to malign a fellow small council member," King Aemon snapped.

"At least I take care of my family," David shot back.

"Enough of this childish bickering! I am not opposed to Healer David becoming a custodian to the brothels," Aemon said, though there was some heat to his voice.

"I am," Prince Oberyn spoke up, his brow furrowed in anger. "If I find my daughter being made a prostitute for you to profit from, I will strangle you with your own entrails!"

"Calm yourself, Prince Oberyn," David replied, glaring back. "That you would think so little of me ... Sarella is far more valuable in her role as a healer and as my pupil."

"That's rather a large leap for a humble healer," Varys finally spoke up. "I understand Healer David knows much, but does he understand what running a brothel entails? Particularly as he will be acting on behalf of the king. We don't want another small council member merely replacing Baelish."

"David has already done much to bring happiness and prosperity to the people of King's Landing. He treats the ailments of the poor, with or without coin," Aemon replied.

"Should an extra tax be levied on the brothels, I should still manage to conduct my healing services," David said. "This is not a matter of trading one livelihood for another. I will be allowed to operate independent of any benefactors, apart from the king, at least, since the brothels will still be under His Grace's purview."

Tyrion noticed that his brother continued to remain quiet despite the happenings. Usually, this meant that his brother had questions that he'd rather vocalize in private rather than public. He wondered if his brother would be gracious enough to include him in the discussion that he no doubt wanted with the king.

"It's easy enough to see why being a custodian of the brothels would be attractive to one who otherwise must struggle for coin," Tyrion began. "However, I don't think Varys' concerns are without merit. Those who have long gone without and then found themselves with the means often develop a hunger that cannot be sated by any amount of coin. Should we really trust that David is a diamond amongst the shale?"

Aemon opened his mouth to speak, but Jaime spoke first. "So the paragons of virtue have spoken?" The bite in his voice made Tyrion flinch. "You have the temerity to question David's character because he lacks that which we have enjoyed since birth? David had no ties to this country when he came to King's Landing with me, yet his loyalty has never wavered. It is because of his sacrifice that we were able to pinpoint the machinations of Baelish, even if we weren't able to act on it. It is because of David that we can now sleep in our beds at night, safe in the knowledge that the wildfire has been made inert and will no longer threaten us or our families. He suffered grave injury and still persisted in this pursuit because it was important to me and the king! Can you really think of any other candidate better suited to be a custodian of these brothels?"

There was silence as Jaime's words sank in. Even David looked stunned.

"Of all of the people here who might speak for me, you were the last I ever imagined," David said with an incredulous shake of his head.

"I may not like you, but I do respect you. I have been your benefactor for some time now and there is nothing in the accounts you send me that suggests that coin is being spent frivolously. There is little difference between me being your benefactor and the mistress of coin overseeing your accounts," Jaime said. He turned to Lady Olenna. "I have little doubt you will raise your concerns to the king if you see discrepancies in his accounts."

"That I will," Lady Olenna replied, pinning David with a knowing look. He returned it with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Is that settled then?" King Aemon asked.

Lady Olenna pursed her lips. "Very well. I can think of no other candidates who would sully their reputation with such an acquisition and be someone the king can trust. We still must discuss this 'morality tax' to be levied though."

That discussion went on for some time. Tyrion attempted to carefully walk a line where he supported the tax, but insisted that it not be too high. Naturally, David balked at the twenty percent tax that Lord Velaryon demanded, and insisted that there needed to be some leftover coin to fully fund both the brothels and his healing arts. Lord Steffon Frey, yet again, accused David of being greedy before he was swiftly reminded by both Jaime and the king that David's clinic was freely accessible to the citizens of King's Landing. Ultimately, a tax of ten percent was passed that would apply to all of the brothels in the city. Tyrion fully expected those brothel owners to bring petitions before the king in disagreement over the new taxes.

"Now that we know the Long Night is coming, I would like us to jump on preparing for the winter and the war," King Aemon began, "Lord Lannister is heading North to free Winterfell and to go beyond the Wall and negotiate with the free folk."

"Is he now?" Lady Olenna said with a twitch of her eyebrow.

"Free folk?" Lord Steffon asked, crinkling his nose.

"That's what they call themselves," Aemon said. "We must extend a hand to them in friendship and allow them to cross the Wall to our lands."

"I know little about what lies beyond the Wall, Your Grace, but I was certain that the Night's Watch and the wildings are mortal enemies," Lord Varys spoke up for the first time, with a look of pleasant confusion.

"They are, indeed, hostile to each other. But we must overcome that. It is imperative that they not be left any longer beyond the Wall."

"The tales of the wildlings don't often trickle this far south, but even we've heard of their misdeeds: thieves, pillagers, rapists …. I guess it's a good thing they will be left for the North to deal with," Lady Olenna said. "They will be kept in the North, won't they, Your Grace?"

"I rather doubt they'd be interested in migrating any further south than the Gift anyway. They feel most at home in the cold," Aemon replied.

"Do you really think it wise to allow them below the Wall? The pirates are bad enough," Lord Velaryon said.

"I cannot see His Grace simply letting them in with open arms, free to go where they please," Tyrion said. "A savage dog needs to be trained or it'll lash out in all directions."

"That is correct, Tyrion. That's why I will be sending Stannis and placing him in charge of the Gift that they will be settled on," Aemon said.

Lady Olenna huffed. "That uptight prick still thinks he's owed the kingship. Can you be so certain he would not mobilize the wildlings in an uprising against you?"

"If he can organize the wilding army into that formidable a force within our lifetimes, he might damn well deserve to be king," Jaime said with an unpleasant smile. "I've heard the stories too. They're about as easy to herd as shadow cats. They chafe against the yolk of the law."

"Stannis is beholden to the law," Aemon said, "He is a slave to it. His unbending desire to uphold the law no matter the circumstances is precisely what is needed to keep the free folk in line. They respect strength. They will respect him when he follows through on his threats."

"Very curious, Your Grace," Prince Oberyn said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How do you know so much about the wildings and what to expect from them?"

Tyrion felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand and he looked toward Aemon. It had escaped him that Aemon was spilling so much knowledge about a people that little was known about. He struggled to keep from fidgeting with nerves.

Aemon was quiet as he frowned over at Oberyn. "I have been in contact with Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. I visited the Wall before coming south and that is how I learned about the coming war and know about the free folk."

"You knew about this for some time?" Prince Oberyn asked quietly.

"Would you have believed me without seeing the wight?"

We'd have considered him as crazy as his grandfather, more like, Tyrion thought. The way Prince Oberyn and a few of the others either shifted uncomfortably or cast their eyes down to the table spoke volumes. Tyrion was feeling guilty himself for not believing Jaime when he spoke of his previous life. How could I have known?! Tyrion thought bitterly, but it didn't assuage his conscience.

"Your Grace, if I may, you've been speaking about bringing the wildlings across the Wall as if it's done. Is it not worth debating whether they should be allowed?" Lord Velaryon asked with his face pinched in discomfort.

"There are an estimated half a million wildlings beyond the Wall," Jaime said. "The Night King will make undead of them all if we leave them up there."

Nearly everyone seemed to stop breathing at the revelation.

Tyrion broke the silence, "Since you showed us the wight, I've been in the library researching about the Long Night. Our records are scant, but I have read passages by maesters several hundred years after the Wall was built that mention the Wall has magical properties. I also have a distant memory of reading a book in Casterly Rock about how the Wall was built because of the previous Long Night. How do we know for a certainty that the Night King and his army of undead will even make it past the Wall?"

"There are methods of breaching the Wall," Aemon said. "I've grown up with the stories all of my life. There is said to be an artifact beyond the wall called the Horn of Winter. Joramun was said to have blown it and woken the giants. It's also believed to be able to bring down the wall with a single blow."

"Do we know for a certainty that this horn exists?" Tyrion asked.

"Do we have the luxury to doubt?" Jaime shot back.

Do you think it likely, brother, that the Night King will kill one of the dragons and rip a hole in the Wall again? Tyrion wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue. The last thing he needed is for the other council members to think him touched in the head.

"This creature has already been shown to exist," Prince Oberyn said. "The leap to this Horn of Winter existing is not so great."

"Prince Oberyn has a point. It would be careless for us to dismiss this threat when presented to us. I think it best to prepare for the Night King to bring his undead army across the Wall," Willas added, his face fretful.

"So are we agreed then that Lord Lannister will negotiate for the free folk to pass into the North?" Aemon asked.

Most everyone was grim as they slowly nodded around the table.

"Very good. Lord Lannister, Lord Tyrion, we will discuss at length tomorrow what the terms will be," Aemon commanded.

Tyrion hastily scribbled a note on his parchment. Jaime just snorted with laughter. "I should think those terms will be rather simple."

"Perhaps, but I want you to be prepared. It is time now that we bring Lord Stannis Baratheon in on this so that he knows our plans for the free folk."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Finally, I want to address fixing Moat Cailin up to its former glory and granting it to a lord," Aemon said.

"Yes, we should probably start reinforcing it. It's the one clear path through the Neck. We should put it in the hands of someone we trust not to abuse it. Do you have someone in mind?" Jaime said.

"I promised my squire, Olyvar Frey, that he would be a knight with a holding. I don't think it's unreasonable to grant him Moat Cailin," Aemon replied.

Jaime scowled. "You would put a Frey at Moat Cailin?"

"That's uncalled for, Lord Lannister," Lord Steffon snapped from down the way.

"Hardly. Everyone knows your father indulges in his control of the Twins and charges a pretty dragon for crossing. Forgive me, Your Grace, but is he really the best choice?"

"He's not like his grandfather, Jaime. Did you have someone else in mind?" Aemon asked.

"There are plenty I could think of whom I would assign to Moat Cailin to manage as a captain but not to hold: Ser Addam Marbrand, the Blackfish, hell, you could even gift it to Lord Yohn Royce's second son. What's his name? Ser Robar Royce? He seems an all right lad. But not a Frey."

"Ser Robar has already voiced his intentions to join the Night's Watch."

"He's not a criminal. He can always go back on that, especially for something as strategically important as Moat Cailin."

"We may have to agree to disagree on that one, but I'll give it some thought."

"You still need your final Kingsguard as well."

"I have not forgotten, but there has been precious little time for consideration."

Jaime glared at him in annoyance, then tipped his head back and said, "Ser Barristan, you'll make sure the king chooses wisely, won't you?"

"I am at the king's side should he call for me."

"I promise I will consult Ser Barristan about the final Kingsguard," Aemon snapped.

Jaime remained quiet, but Tyrion got a sense of grudging approval. At no point in Tyrion's life did he ever think he could accuse his brother of henpecking and yet now he was fussing over the king's protection. It was a sight to behold.

"I will take those names into consideration. Right now, though, Moat Cailin is a wreck and work needs to be started as swiftly as possible for it to be prepared in time for the Long Night. As master of war, I want you to evaluate and make the determinations of what needs to be done."

"Yes, Your Grace. I'll send a raven for a stonemason. Surely there's one up there," Jaime said dully.

"Hard at work untying those strings I see," Olenna interrupted.

Jaime barely deigned to look at her. "This cannot wait, my lady. Not for the king's purse to fatten. I'm sure the Night King would be most pleased to have a clear road to Highgarden."

Aemon sighed. "Must you always bicker?"

"Merely healthy discourse, Your Grace," Lady Olenna replied.

"If you are finished, then I consider this meeting adjourned," Aemon said. He closed his eyes as if he was desperately trying to ward off a headache. They all stood as he did and stayed and watched him leave with Ser Barristan in tow. There was a general hubbub as many of them pulled their parchments together to walk out.

Jaime left with him. They walked in silence for a time before Jaime finally asked, "You will look after him, won't you? Make sure he doesn't do anything … rash?"

"I am the Hand now," Tyrion said, his own eyes drifting to the pin on his shirt. "Is that not a part of my duties?"

"Then be vigilant. He's still vulnerable."

"Will he ever not be?"

"When his dragon is grown," Jaime replied and a shadow fell across his face.

"You can depend on me! Is that not why you and he agreed to make me Hand in the first place?"

"It is."

"Then trust in your own judgment," Tyrion said.

Jaime nodded with some hesitancy and said, "I think I'll go train with Brienne."

"In the bed or in the yard?" Tyrion chuckled as Jaime gave him a light shove and walked off.