The Kraken and the Lion
by Technomad
Chapter 17 Dark Wings, Dark News
Tyrion Lannister
"It's good to be home!" Tyrion smiled, stretching luxuriously. "In a lot of ways, this place is in my blood and bones."
"The way Pyke and the Islands will always be in mine, I imagine," drawled Asha. Tyrion and Asha were sitting side-by-side in the solar of Casterly Rock, overlooking the town of Lannisport. From their vantage point, the town seemed tiny, as though it had been built by miniature people. They had just finished a huge breakfast, and remains of the meal were still scattered on the table, awaiting Tyrion's signal for a servant to clean up after them.
The trip to Lannisport had included a long layover in Dorne, enjoying the hospitality of the Martells. Tyrion and Asha had both been intrigued by Dorne; its culture was as much different from the rest of Westeros as the Islands themselves were. And the warm weather had also been very nice; they had spent many lazy afternoons lolling in the screened pavilion set aside for their use, alternating between making love and talking, naked and unworried about it. Dornish customs were very different from those in force in Kings Landing or Lannisport. They had even joked about staying on in Dorne, but for one factor that had convinced them that moving on was a good idea.
Oberyn Martell, the younger brother of the reigning prince of Dorne, was inexplicably hostile to them, and would take verbal jabs at them at every opportunity. "What's eating at him?" Asha had asked Tyrion. They had just come from a dinner where Oberyn had made quite a few comments that a touchier person than Tyrion might have taken as pretexts for a duel. "This is the first time that I know of that we've ever even met!"
"He's still angry about his sister, Princess Elia of Dorne. She was killed…nastily…when Father and his allies took Kings Landing from the Targaryens." Tyrion explained.
"But wasn't that quite a long time ago?" Asha had been puzzled, and instantly wary. She knew that Oberyn Martell had a sinister reputation, including whispers that he knew quite a bit about poisons. She had already known enough about him to make very sure that they were never alone together. His mistress had pointedly informed her that they often shared their bed with others…men and women alike…and intimated that Asha would be quite welcome if she felt like a change of pace. Not being that way inclined, Asha had pointedly refused to get the woman's drift, and had avoided her as well after their conversation.
"Fifteen years. But Oberyn Martell is not one to let go of a grudge, any more than my late lamented good-brother King Robert was. And he hasn't forgiven or forgotten that Gregor Clegane was my father's man when he killed the Princess, any more than he's forgotten or forgiven Ser Amory Lorch for killing one of her children." Tyrion looked very grim. "It was an ugly scene, and an ugly time, and I don't much blame him for being angry about it still."
"He would fit right in on the Iron Islands." Asha shook her head. "Even so, though, I think we should move on. Prince Doran's been wonderful, but Oberyn gives me the shuddering creeps."
"Agreed. Lannisport awaits. And I want to get a good long look at the books they've been keeping on our wealth!" The next day, Black Wind put out to sea, the crew happy at the long, interesting shore leave they'd just had. One and all, they vowed to return to Sunspear as soon as they could.
"A girl in every port, eh?" grinned Tyrion. "Not my style. Only one for me…and I've found the one!" Asha chuckled and they linked arms, standing on the quarterdeck as the Black Wind heeled over, the wind filling her sail as the crew shipped oars.
A couple of days later, the Black Wind scudded into the harbor at Lannisport, just ahead of a sea squall. Tyrion beamed as the gangplank was lowered, and after the crew had disembarked, he offered Asha his arm. "My lady, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to my home town?"
Asha bowed, taking his arm. "The pleasure is all mine, my most gracious lord!"
Asha Greyjoy Lannister
Asha was feeling distinctly queasy. She wondered if she'd eaten something she shouldn't have. The chefs the Lannisters kept at their seat were sinfully good, and if she had been less into exercise, she thought she could easily have gained a deal of weight since arriving in Lannisport. No, she thought, it doesn't feel like that, exactly…Then a thought struck her, and she felt cold chills going down her back.
"My love?" she called. Across the room, Tyrion looked up from some ledgers. "Do you think you could summon a maester?"
"Of course, Asha. Why?" Worry crossed his face. "Are you well?"
"I'm not sure, Tyrion. I've been feeling rather like my breakfast wants to come back up, and it's been that way for a few days." Tyrion paled, and rang for a servant, explaining what he wanted. In a few minutes, a tall thin man wearing a maester's chain came striding in.
"I am Maester Duclos. You wish to be examined, my lady?" At Asha's nod, he gave Tyrion and the servant a significant look, and they both decamped rather quickly. Asha gathered that Maester Duclos was nobody to trifle with. Very soon, he had her down to her chemise and drawers, and was examining her in ways that she would have thought would be embarrassing, but for his utterly impersonal air about it. She gave him samples of her blood and piss, and he told her to get dressed, withdrawing from the room with a bow. Tyrion came back in, looking more worried than before.
Very soon thereafter, Maester Duclos came back in. "My lady, you are one of the healthiest young women I have ever seen. You should have no problem carrying your child to term." Asha felt like the deck of the Black Wind was suddenly reeling under her feet, and Tyrion looked as though he'd been poleaxed. Duclos nodded. "Yes, a perfectly normal pregnancy, and unless something goes seriously wrong, there'll be a new Lannister to welcome into the world in seven or so months." He bowed, and left, leaving them to absorb the astounding news.
"A baby…" Tyrion muttered. He sat down and poured out a glass of wine, drinking it off in a gulp. "We're going to have a baby!"
"Well, that is what married people do, isn't it, my love?" asked Asha. She quirked a smile. "Particularly married people who, to quote some of the servants, 'act like every night's their wedding night?' That is one of the known consequences of the way we carry on!"
"I'll have to send Father a raven," Tyrion said. Gradually, a huge smile spread across his face. "I just wish I knew where Jaime was! He's going to be an uncle…again!" Where the servants could hear, Tyrion was always scrupulous about protecting his siblings' secret.
"I wish he were here," Asha mused. "I'd quite like to meet him."
"If he hears, he'll be on the way!" Tyrion predicted confidently. "Let's go tell everybody!"
The news spread rapidly, and soon Asha's crew was getting ready to host a huge party in their honor. There were a good few Iron Islands ships in harbor, loading up, and everybody wanted to come. "Of course, you can come!" Tyrion said. "And there's a good few Lannister cousins who'll be coming, too!"
"We'll teach them how to play the finger game!" called an ironborn. Tyrion grinned and withdrew, to talk with the castellans about how to put the party on.
Tyrion Lannister
The musicians were playing a lively tune, the food was piled in huge stacks on the tables, and the drink flowed freely. On Maester Duclos' recommendation, Asha confined herself to watered wine, and Tyrion followed her lead. The guests danced, drank, ate and enjoyed themselves.
They had received a raven back from Kings Landing, with messages from the King, Queen Mother and Hand. Joffrey's message was very conventional, offering his best wishes for their child and expressing hope that it be strong and healthy. Cersei's message was merely an acknowledgement of the news. She hates us both, Asha had thought. She'd be delighted if I were to die in childbirth, and my child with me! She had a moment's vision of stringing the Queen Mother up, laughing as she kicked and gasped and struggled for breath as the rope cut off her air and her eyes bulged out, and it felt good.
Tywin's letter, in contrast, had been surprisingly full of news. Apparently the war was going quite well. Robb Stark's pretensions had been ended by an ambush against him at the Twins, carried out by the Freys, who had apparently secretly rejoined the Lannister faction. Tyrion's eyebrows went up at this.
"Knowing Father, I'd say that he had something to do with that. And knowing Walder Frey, if I were Father, I'd treat him with kid gloves."
Joffrey's engagement to Sansa Stark had ended, but Sansa had been detained "at the King's pleasure" in the Red Keep. "Apparently, Father and the Small Council decided that an alliance with the Tyrells was a better deal than Sansa's claim on Winterfell and the North," was Tyrion's comment.
"Poor Sansa!" Asha said sadly. "That girl can't ever seem to catch a break!"
"To be sure, she can't. It'd have been better for her to be a hedge knight's daughter, I think. As long as she has the best claim to Winterfell, there'll be people wanting to control her. She'll never have a day free, as long as she lives."
Asha remembered something. "Aren't the Martells and Tyrells blood enemies?"
Tyrion nodded, scanning the letter. "Yes, they have a history of feuding. However, Father seems to have overawed the Martells. They're sending a delegation to the wedding. Poor Prince Doran! His gout is not going to take traveling at all well!"
"Can you imagine Oberyn going instead?" Asha asked. Both of them shuddered. "Knowing him, he'd probably provoke a war in two days flat!"
Over the next few months, they kept up with events in Kings Landing, as Asha's belly swelled and she began to feel new life growing inside her. "They're going to have seventy-seven courses at the wedding feast?" Asha gasped, her eyes going round. "Seventy-seven?" Her face set disapprovingly. "While my people are straining to keep that town resupplied, they're going to have seventy-seven courses at that feast?" She gave Tyrion a glare, and he backed up slightly, holding up his hands.
"Don't blame me, my love. The Tyrells have eased the food situation, and want to make themselves loved. And the servants and castle people get the leftovers…'broken meats,' as the phrase goes." Asha subsided, but she still was highly shocked and disapproving.
"If the smallfolk hear about that feast, they'll be lucky not to have the keep torn down about their ears!" Tyrion knew that on the Iron Islands, hunger was by no means unknown, and even nobles had to tighten their belts at times. Secretly, he agreed with his wife. What, he wondered, were the Tyrells thinking? And what was his father thinking, to approve of such mad extravagance? This was something he'd have expected of King Robert!
They had received an invitation to the wedding, but had chosen to stay in Lannisport. "I approve of your decision," Tywin had written, when he had received their polite demurral. "Sea voyages are not good for women with child, and Joffrey's been acting more and more erratic."
Asha Greyjoy Lannister
Asha was enjoying an erotic dream involving herself, her husband, and a tub full of scented oil, when the door banging on their bedroom startled her out of sleep. She snapped awake, her hand going for the dagger she never let get far from her, as Tyrion waddled into the room, his face white as a sheet. One look at him and Asha knew something was terribly wrong.
"Tyrion! What's happened?"
"It's my nephew…Joffrey. He's dead. He was poisoned. Poisoned, at his own wedding feast!" Asha felt like a gallon of ice water had been dumped down her back. Heedless of her nakedness, she leaped out of the bed, leaning over Tyrion's shoulder to read the letter.
"It says that the poison was apparently in his wine. He started coughing, then his throat closed up and he couldn't breathe. He died of strangulation, apparently," Tyrion said, his voice distant and his eyes staring at something only he could see. "I can imagine how Cersei must have felt…"
For all that she despised Cersei, Asha suddenly flashed on the feelings of a mother watching helplessly as her oldest child died. Her eyes went wide with horror, and she instinctively clutched her belly as though to shield her own little one. "Oh, poor Cersei!" Then reaction set in, and she barely got to the pot before losing whatever was in her stomach.
Tyrion was rapidly scanning the rest of the letter. "Apparently they've arrested Oberyn Martell, who was leading the Dornish delegation to the wedding, and Sansa Stark! They think that one or the other of them is the likeliest suspect." He looked thoughtful. "Oberyn does know an awful lot about poisons, and Sansa Stark could be said to have lots of motive." Then Tyrion's eyes went very wide. "Father wants me to come back to Kings Landing and take charge of the investigation. Apparently he's been favorably impressed with my work, and he wants to make sure that 'Cersei doesn't make the usual hash of everything!'"
"We'll take the Black Wind!" Throwing on a robe, Asha rang for servants. When they came in, she began snapping orders. "See to it that the Black Wind longship's provisioned for a sea voyage, and rout out my crew from whatever hidey-holes they've found! The tide's going to be right, and the winds are good, and I want that ship ready to go in as little time as possible!"
Tyrion paid her no mind. Staring into space, he muttered: "I never thought I'd see the day when my father actually respected me…" Meanwhile, Asha was in a flurry of activity, giving the orders to make the Black Wind ready to set sail.
END Chapter 17