The Kraken and the Lion
Chapter 39
by Technomad
Asha Greyjoy Lannister
Asha had expected a cold welcome. She was unsurprised to find that while everybody at Riverrun was by-the-book correct, they were clearly not happy to have her, or any of her party, in their castle. Once they were inside, they were shown to their quarters, which were by no means uncomfortable, but nowhere near the best the castle offered. All the way there, they were guarded by unsmiling, heavily-armed Tully men-at-arms.
"At least they haven't thrown us into the dungeons," Tyrion said, sitting down on the bed in his and Asha's room. "I was rather afraid that they might."
"Remember? The Blackfish said that the Tullys 'honor guest right.' They won't mistreat us." Asha sighed. "I must say, the 'Red Wedding' was something people won't forget in a hurry. We'll be living that little chicane down for quite a long time."
"If we ever do," Tyrion said ruefully. "On the one hand, I can't argue with the results. Much. The Northern faction's all but out of the war, which does simplify things enormously. On the other hand, the methods that were used stick in most people's throats. Even mine."
"And mine," came a familiar voice. Asha and Tyrion looked up to see Jaime. He had come in while they were talking. "I have my faults, the gods know, but at my worst I've always been straightforward about what I did. Otherwise, the Mad King would have been found dead with no evidence to point to me."
"That's nothing but the truth," Asha admitted. She had come to know her good-brother, and she knew he had no guile in him. How he had kept his incestuous liaison with his sister a secret escaped her. She figured that Cersei had been the schemer of the pair.
A servant came in, bowing. "Beg pardon, my lady, my lords, but dinner is being served in the Great Hall." Asha realized that she was hungry. Tyrion bowed to her and gallantly offered her his arm to escort her to dinner. Jaime, she noticed, had offered his arm to Brienne of Tarth, who had followed the servant into the room. She smiled to herself. She was very happy being married, and wanted others to share that happiness.
Dinner was rather sparse. The siege had been eased enough for fresh stores to be brought in, but the Tullys were taking no chances, and were not indulging in lavish meals. At first, the conversation was rather subdued, until one of the ladies turned to Asha and asked about her babies. "I heard you had twins. How are they doing?"
This was one of Asha's favorite things to talk about, and soon she was deep in discussion with some of the ladies of the castle. Political differences were forgotten as they compared notes on baby development, child behavior, and other subjects of interest. A couple of the ladies had babies themselves, and the children were produced for Asha to coo over and smile at.
By the end of the meal, Asha felt that she'd at least broken some of the ice with their hosts. The ladies were quite friendly with her, and agog at her tales of her exploits aboard the Black Wind. None of them had ever been to sea, and they said they couldn't imagine what courage it took to sail off out of sight of land.
"It's all what you're used to," Asha told them, as they listened, wide-eyed. "On the Iron Islands, we live with and on the sea. It's as much a part of our lives as snow is in the North."
Brienne of Tarth had sat in on the conversation, but had taken no part. After a while, the ladies noticed her. "Oh! We've been neglecting you, my lady! I must say, those men's clothes you wear do suit you remarkably well, dear!" At this friendly overture, Brienne visibly brightened, pulling her chair closer and smiling. Asha thought that she really did have a rather nice smile.
The ladies of Riverrun were curious about Brienne's life. Under their gentle prodding, she was soon explaining how she had come to be what she was. Her descriptions of the various snubs and discourtesies she had endured made them furious on her behalf. "Why, I never! The nerve of those men!"
Asha noticed that Jaime was sitting, listening quietly to the female talk. She noted that he nodded silently when they expressed disapproval of the affronts Brienne had undergone. She nodded to herself. If she could figure a way to get King Tommen to sign off on allowing the Kingsguard to marry, she thought that Jaime could be very happy with Brienne, and vice-versa.
After dinner, there was no entertainment, and the contingent from Kings Landing went off to their assigned quarters. Once they were alone, Tyrion sat on the bed and sighed.
"Well, so far, so good," he said softly. "As the man who jumped off the tallest cliff said as he hit the halfway mark on the way down."
"They don't seem to be blaming us personally for the Red Wedding, at least," Asha replied. "The ladies warmed up to me once we started talking about babies."
"A subject dear to women's hearts," Tyrion replied, with a grin. He glanced up at Brienne. "Even you. Right?"
Brienne nodded, blushing. Asha had not forgotten how she had reacted to her introduction to little Balon and Joanna. For all her masculine mannerisms, she shared an instinctive attraction to babies with other women.
"Our best bet, I think," Tyrion said, "is to convince our hosts that we're perfectly nice people, and that we had nothing at all to do with the Red Wedding. Let the Freys take the brunt of the blame for that."
"As they should. I think that almost any other noble house would have expelled any of its members who proposed such a scheme, much less went through with it," said Brienne. "The Freys are going to be very unpopular for a long, long time."
"They made their bed. Let them lie and die in it, and be damned to them," Jaime said. "War is bad enough as it is. Seven Gods know, I know that as well as anybody alive!" He ran his remaining hand through his blond hair. "But throwing down the rules on guest-right, and then openly dancing on them, sets precedents that'll haunt this country for a very long time!"
"I don't think even my Uncle Euron would have violated guest-right. And you remember what he was like!" observed Asha. "I don't doubt that your dear father tempted the Freys, probably with that favorite Lannister weapon, gold, but the Freys could have told him to go to the seven hells with his gold."
"All we can do, for the rest of our lives, is live it down. Seven Gods know, I know all about that!" Jaime shook his head. "And with that, it's getting late. Let's to bed. Tomorrow is another day."
Tyrion Lannister
The next day, Tyrion met with the Tully leaders. They met in the castle's main solar. As he had expected, they were very unfriendly. The chair he was given was uncomfortable, and he noticed that the Tullys had much better chairs under them. Sighing, he chalked that up as yet another effect of the Red Wedding. The most prominent victims of that ambush, after all, had been Tullys, directly or by descent.
"Why should we believe this cock-and-bull story? Particularly from a Lannister?" was the first question. The questioner was a Tully cousin whose name Tyrion hadn't caught.
"Look. Think about it. If we were trying to trick you, wouldn't you think we could come up with a better story?" That brought reluctant nods and grunts of agreement. While a lot of people despised him as "the Imp" or "the halfman," nobody who had dealt with him (other than his prejudice-blinded father and sister) underestimated his brains. While "King" Euron had taken the greater share of the credit for the victory over the Targaryens and their dragons, a lot of people knew what Tyrion had done to help make that victory possible, and had not been slow about spreading their knowledge.
"You do have a point," a Tully uncle grunted. "We were held here, and sooner or later, our supplies would have run out." Tyrion nodded. That was a standard way to end a siege. Rather than storming a castle, which was likely not to work and, win or lose, involved very heavy casualties, the besieging force would just surround the enemy stronghold and wait for the enemy to run low on food. Many sieges ended with peaceful surrenders for that reason. Neither side wanted a storm.
"If this were a trick, would they have let us come here?" Tyrion went on. "You probably know that my dear father hates me. If you killed me, he wouldn't shed a tear. But he would definitely be upset if Jaime were killed. Or my wife. Much to my surprise, he likes my wife, and approves of her strongly. Particularly since she's presented him with beautiful twin grandchildren."
"Killing the Maid of Tarth, particularly when she's our guest, would also embroil us with her family," the oldest Tully pointed out. "May I ask how she came to be with your party?"
"When Catelyn Stark released my brother, Jaime, on his promise to retrieve her daughters for her, the Maid of Tarth was detailed to go with him and keep him to his oath. They went through all sorts of hell together, including the time when he lost his hand."
"I was meaning to ask about that," spoke up a scar-faced Tully uncle. "I may not think well of the Kingslayer, but nobody's ever doubted his skill at arms. How'd he happen to lose his hand?" A murmur of agreement went around the room.
Tyrion looked at the Tullys. "He was captured by the Bloody Mummers. One of my father's less-well-thought-out ideas was to bring them to Westeros. He thought he could control them, but nobody controls the Mummers but the Mummers. Jaime told me: 'They said they would make me scream. I said they wouldn't. I was wrong.'"
The Tullys were clearly dumfounded. They had apparently thought that Jaime had lost his hand in battle. That was common enough, the Seven knew! But to have it callously cut off when he was a prisoner, just for sport...this was depravity that they had never seen. Tyrion noticed with some satisfaction that they seemed less hostile to him and his companions than they had been. All unwillingly, they had been forced into sympathy with Jaime...the evil Kingslayer, whom they all despised for his murder of the king he had sworn to guard. Tyrion blessed the luck that had sent him to Riverrun for the first time since he had arrived.
With that, the ice was broken. Tyrion was soon describing exactly how "King" Euron had won the battle against the Targaryen/Dothraki fleet. He and Asha ended up utilizing tableware to set up a visual aid, showing how the fleets had been deployed, how the battle had proceeded, and what the situation had been at the end. Asha helped out, explaining things like the wind gage and sea statem, and how they had affected events. Nobody else there had ever been in a sea battle, and they were clearly making mental notes about naval warfare, in case the day came when they had to go to sea, too. They were professional warriors, as much as Jaime himself. Tyrion thought this was a very ironic reversal of the usual way of things. Normally, on matters pertaining to war, Jaime was the expert and he was the unknowing outsider, but in this case, he had been there and Jaime hadn't.
Finally, the conference broke up. Tyrion was very pleased at what he had accomplished. He had once said that his mind was his weapon, just as Robert had his warhammer and Jaime had his sword. Since that time, he had learned how to use more conventional weapons, but he still thought of himself as more cerebral than physical and this sort of combat was his preferred sphere. Asha has the sea, Jaime the battlefield, and I...I have the council chamber. Between us, we have all possibilities covered!
Asha Greyjoy Lannister
Over the next few days, Asha noticed that the atmosphere around the castle was friendlier. The servants were more willing to talk to her and her companions, and the Tullys themselves unbent, at least some of them.
The seniormost Tully present in the castle, Lothar Tully, was curious about the Iron Isles. "I've heard a lot about them, my lady," he said, when they were relaxing together over horns of ale in the Great Hall of Riverrun. "You're the first person I've met who's been there." He smiled at her. "I believe that the more I know, the better I am."
"You sound like my husband," Asha said. "He likes to say that as his brother has...or had?...his sword, he has his mind, and a mind needs books and knowledge like a sword needs oiling and sharpening."
"He has the right idea," said Lothar. "He'd have made a good maester."
"When he suggested that idea, his father hit the ceiling. 'No Lannister shall wear a chain!'" Asha smiled ruefully. "I get along with my good-father, but he's always resented Tyrion's existence."
"He's a fool," Lothar said decisively.
Just then, Jaime came along, with Brienne of Tarth leading him by the hand. "Come, Jaime," she said gently. "Many great warriors have lost hands, and gone on to garner glory. All you need is retraining."
This sounded interesting. Asha stood, draining the last of her ale, and with a "By your leave, my lord," she went to watch Jaime and Brienne training. She had both her hands, but she knew that other Iron Islands men and women had lost hands in accidents or battle, and she thought that perhaps learning to fight with her off hand would not be a bad idea.
Soon, they were all in the training room. It wasn't as capacious as the one in the Red Keep, or in Casterly Rock, but Riverrun was rather cramped for space, being on an island. Asha looked around. It would do quite well, she decided. Since the Tullys didn't have groups of men as large as the Kingsguard training at any single time, they didn't need as large a room as the royal keep did.
Brienne selected a shield and practice sword for herself, and then helped Jaime arm himself. He looked uncertain and lost, utterly unlike the arrogant knight Asha had been told so many tales of. With his shield on his right arm and holding a practice sword with his left, he made tentative swings, trying to get the feel of fighting with the "wrong" hand.
Brienne nodded, apparently having expected this. "Think of this like you did learning to fight as a beginner, back when you first started training." She cocked her head. "I have a hard time believing that your trainers didn't spend time teaching you how to fight with your left hand. Mine did."
"Oh, they did," Jaime said, quirking a surprisingly roguish grin. Asha smiled to herself to see Brienne's eyes go wide. "But that was many years ago. I'm not sure I can remember that far back."
"Oh, it'll come back to you," Brienne assured him. Once they were in position, Brienne turned to Asha. "Could you give us the signal to lay on, please?"
"Very well. Make ready...lay on!" With that, Brienne and Jaime started circling each other. At first Jaime seemed uncertain of himself, but his footwork was soon as sure as it had ever been. He was as light as a dancer, and made Brienne look rather clumsy, although she wasn't bad at all by ordinary standards. Even with the advantage of being able to use her dominant hand for her weapon, Asha was not sure how well she'd have done in a bout with her good-brother.
Brienne pressed forward, initiating an attack, and Jaime held his ground, parrying Brienne's thrusts and cuts. He was tentative at first, unsure of himself, but as he got the feel of what he was doing, Asha could see his old skill beginning to return. He moved forward, taking the fight to Brienne, and Brienne moved backward, her eyes narrowing as she began to realize just how talented, and how good at this, Jaime really was.
As the pace of the bout quickened, Asha caught her breath. She was reminded of the fierce fighting she had experienced at the Battle of the Blackwater, and aboard the Aegon the Conqueror when she had led her crew and husband in a boarding action.
Even with his right hand gone, Jaime was a master of swordsmanship, lacking only his old confidence and practice to be as deadly as he'd ever been. And Brienne herself had considerable real talent. Asha thought that had they both been along for those battles, Brienne and Jaime could have wreaked considerable havoc among the enemy, together or separately.
After a while, Asha called: "Hold!" and both combatants paused for breath. Brienne grinned at Jaime. "See? All it will take is practice, and you'll be the fighter you always were!"
Jaime wiped sweat from his brow. He'd been rather out of shape, Asha thought, and made a mental note to see to it that her good-brother got back into the habit of regular exercise. He'd been moping for too long, and exercise and getting his old skill back would be the perfect anodyne for his grieving, both for his lost hand and for his dead sister and lover.
"Shall we continue?" Asha asked. When Brienne and Jaime both nodded, she waited for them to poise their swords and position their shields before giving the command to lay on. They scrimmaged furiously, and Asha noticed that Jaime was already improving as he got the idea of how to fight left-handed. He'd probably never be able to wield a polearm, or joust, but with a sword he could soon be back to where he had been.
Tyrion Lannister
Tyrion and Asha were sitting in the Great Hall when word came that the Blackfish and his escorts were back. They went down to meet the Tully lord.
Brynden Tully was pale, and clearly shaken at what he had seen. Rather to Tyrion's surprise, he bowed to Tyrion and Asha. "I humbly beg your pardons, my lady, my lord," he said. "I did not believe what you told me." He shuddered. "I was wrong. Can you forgive me?"
"I forgive you, my lord," Tyrion said. "To be honest, I didn't believe the first reports the Black Brothers brought to us about the dead walking. I laughed at them and sent the brothers back north with a hundred spades and instructions that if they buried the dead, they would not walk."
"You were right to notify me," Brynden told them. "I see Stannis Baratheon is also a believer. We must join our forces and deal with this menace quickly. The weather is getting colder. Winter is coming!"
Inside, Tyrion rejoiced. While the Tullys had not mistreated him or his companions, he was more than tired of Riverrun and wanted to get back to either Kings Landing or, preferably, Lannisport and Casterly Rock.
Asha whispered: "I wonder how much our babies have changed while we were gone?" Since Tyrion had been amazed repeatedly at how rapidly the twins had grown and developed since their birth, he also wanted to see how they were doing.
"If you can make arrangements, I'll ride for Kings Landing, with my wife, brother and the Maid of Tarth. Once I'm there, we can arrange to have a meeting of all the leaders, at some safe, neutral place." Brynden nodded, and Tyrion began to snap orders to the servants.
(Author's note: Sorry about the long wait. Real life has kept me on the hop.)