The Princess and the Queen 12: The Lion's Wrath
Tyland looked at the sea ahead and down at the pile of parchments on his desk. It was early afternoon by now, and the meeting with Lancel had taken the whole morning. Luckily, all of the finer details had been done, and Lancel's wedding celebrations were complete.
"More wine?" Tyland asked.
"My thanks, but I must refuse," replied Lancel. "I have more than enough today."
"Then I would think that we are done here," Tyland smiled. "The dowries have been confirmed by you and Lord Vikary, and we have a set a date on the marriage, exactly... two moons from now. I shall also consult with our kin down at Lannisport to renovate the tourney grounds."
"It shall be a grand occasion," he laughed.
"That is the minimum."
For a Lannister.
"However, Ty..." began Lancel. "I still disagree with the notion of inviting the Princess and her children to the wedding..."
Tyland rolled his eyes.
Not this again.
"We spoke of this," said Tyland. "Whether she is like to come or not, refusing to invite her sends a message... that casts further doubt on Joffrey's parentage."
"It's no doubt if we know it to not be true," he brusquely said.
"Seven hells, Lancel... how many more times must I tell you?" Tyland asked, annoyed that the meeting had turned sour.
"It seems that you do not care in the slightest about Jason being cuckolded."
Tyland raised his eyebrows and looked at Lancel reproachfully.
"It seems you care more than me of my mother or Tom do," he frowned, not wanting to escalate tensions. "Or is it that your care that you move even further down the line of succession?"
Lancel had no reply to that, but Tyland knew it to be true. At this moment, Lancel was behind Joffrey, Tyland, Tyland's two girls, Tommen, Tommen's son, Gerion, and Tion. Joffrey being removed from the line would hardly make a difference, but it was still a difference nonetheless.
"That is what I expected," Tyland curtly said. "Lancel... cousin... I do not wish to suffer the Princess' presence either, but you know how a bloody Targaryen would react to such a slight, even if she did not wish to attend in the first place. And my mother wishes to see Baelon again... so if the Princess does arrive, I would be doing my mother a favour."
Lancel sighed and stood up. "Yes... My Lord..."
"Not My Lord," Tyland corrected. "Ser."
Little Joffrey is the Lord, not me.
Before Lancel could exit the solar, Maester Wylis entered, clutching a rolled piece of parchment in his hand.
"Ser Tyland, Ser Lancel..." he nodded, before handing the parchment to Tyland. "From King's Landing."
"Thank you, Wylis," Tyland said as the maester departed.
Tyland looked at it. The seal was still unbroken, and it had two seals compared to the usual one. One was the red lion of Lannister, and the other was a grey chain. That was how Tyrek, the Lannister maester, would sign his letters. Usually, he sent mundane news of the latest taxes and levies, or if there were any border disputes in the Riverlands or Reach that may concern Tyland. So, Tyland broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. On it were the large letters of Maester Tyrek. Upon reading it, Tyland's eyes widened in shock.
"Seven hells..." whispered Tyland.
"What is it?" Lancel curiously asked, having yet to leave the solar.
"The Hand of the King has died, as has his eldest son, at Harrenhal," read Tyland. "The Lordship of Harrenhal now passes to his second son, Lord Larys..."
"Both father and son..." Lancel whispered, a small smile appearing on his face.
"It is said to be a cursed place, Harrenhal," mused Tyland.
"It is..." he nodded. "Does that not mean the Handship is now vacant?"
"Yes, Lancel... yes, it does..."
After Lancel had departed too, Tyland sat for a while in his solar, pondering over the letter and what could come of it. To help him was a cup of honeyed wine. Tyland's mind instantly went to murder, and that someone had killed Lyonel and Harwin Strong for their own benefit.
A fire is the easiest way of clearing evidence.
There were many suspects, after all. Following the birth of Joffrey, the Hand of the King would be inclined to favour his own grandson, something Queen Laena Velaryon and her faction would not enjoy. There was His Grace, too, who wished to cover up the extramarital affairs of his heir.
Seven hells, I would have motive to, as well.
However, the easiest culprit to blame was the castle itself. Regardless if it were a murder or an accident, it meant that the role of Hand of the King was now open. And this was Tyland's opportunity. He knew that in King's Landing, there was a split in court between those who preferred Princess Rhaenyra and those who preferred Prince Daeron. Of course, Tyland and the Lannisters were firmly on the side of the Princess, and Tyland being given the role of Hand would allow him to steer the court in the direction of the Reds and strengthen the side of his nephew and his daughters' future goodmother.
I hope that the Princess is wise enough to suggest that I would be an apt candidate for the role.
Tyland also knew that there was little he could do to improve his chances of becoming Hand all the way from Casterly Rock, but he could still do a little. Later, he would announce his intentions to the remainder of the Lannister household, and he would also send a raven back to King's Landing offering his condolences and subtly hinting that he would be an able Hand.
If I were to become Hand, I do wish Mother shall be here to receive the news.
His mother was visiting Castamere, her maiden house, at this moment. She would be back within weeks, but Tyland still wished that she would be present regardless.
She is getting older by the day... I am surprised that she even managed the travel to Castamere...
He then rolled up the parchment and placed it safely in his satchel before having lunch alone in the solar. It was modest, with a selection of cheeses and meats as well as freshly baked bread. There was some honeyed wine and a platter of exotic fruits to cleanse his tongue after all of it. He didn't eat much since there was a celebratory feast in honour of Lancel's engagement in the Golden Gallery with the immediate Lannister household later. The Golden Gallery was used sparingly, only in times of celebrations and weddings, and the feast would be grand, even for Lannister standards.
However lowly he may be in the line, he is still a Lannister.
Following his lunch, he headed to the Hall of Heroes to pay his respects before the evening feast. It was a long walk down from the solar, which was near the top of the mountain, whilst the grand hall was deep in the bowels. Tyland took a skin of fresh apple wine with him, made from golden apples grown in the glass houses of Lannisport.
Despite the Hall of Heroes being so far away from sunlight, it was still well-lit, with more torches than Tyland could count. A gigantic chandelier made of gold and decorated with thousands of candles hung from the giant ceiling, and torches and candles and hearth lit up the entire hall, making it seem like the sun was at its zenith.
Tyland walked over to his brother's resting place. The last time Tyland visited the hall, his plot had just been completed, but that was nearly a month ago. He looked at the statue in all of its golden glory. It depicted Jason, wearing a kingly attire and a long flowing cloak behind him, standing proudly looking over a golden Westeros, his golden hands decorated with golden rings holding his golden chin, and golden boats surrounding him. The original idea for the statue was to have him riding a dragon, but none of the Lannisters really wanted a reference to Princess Rhaenyra on his burial plot. After that, Tommen suggested depicting him surrounded by a score of women, to convey his womanising character, but Tyland thought it distasteful considering his manner of death.
They then all agreed on the current suggestion, which represented his term on the Small Council as Master of Ships, but also his extravagant nature and how his offspring would rule over Westeros one day. Tyland looked at the statue's features, from his golden eyes to his golden ears and nose. His face was depicted perfectly, but Tyland thought it was an easier task than most others due to him and Jason being twins.
Not many people die leaving another person that looks the same as him.
Tyland scoffed and shook his head. Then, he stood there for a while in silence before he talked to his late brother.
"It's been months, Jason, and we all still miss you... we feasted and celebrated your life, just as you would have wanted, and we have moved on, which is what you wanted us to do. Mother, though... she is at Lord Reyne's halls at the moment, mayhaps that will ease her suffering... she has not taken this well, you were her favourite... We hope to have honoured your memory; your son shall hopefully be a king someday, as shall my grandson... rest well, brother," Tyland smiled, as the statue gave no response. He wiped the single tear that was forming in his eyes before taking a long drink of the apple wine, and leaving the hall, so Jason and all the other Lannisters could lay in peace.
Tyland then returned to his quarters, which were nearer to the top of the castle, to prepare for the wedding feast. His room was also at the top of the Rock, one floor below the solar. Inside, it was wide and spacious, a room fit for a lord. There were three rooms in his quarters, an office, the bedchamber, and the dressing chambers. Since Jason passed, a lot of his cloths were given over to Tyland since they were an exact fit, so his wardrobe had tripled in size. Tyland thought that most of Jason's cloths were much too extravagant, even for a Lannister, but Tyland would wear them occasionally.
For the evening feast, Tyland opted to wear one of his own cloths, however. He wore a black doublet lined with cloth-of-gold lions down the body and a sleeveless cloth-of-gold surcoat over it. On his waist was a black leather belt decorated with golden clips, and from his neck hung a golden chain studded with shimmering rubies. On the third finger of his left hand, he wore a pale gold ring set with a tiny emerald. His breeches and boots were made of expensive black leather, whilst his long golden hair was neatly brushed backwards. He combed his smooth golden beard, which he had grown out, and rubbed an expensive oil that smelled like moss and amber. He sprinkled similar oils on his cloths and went out to meet his wife, who was sitting on the bed, watching their two girls.
"You look wonderful," Tyland smiled.
Johanna was already prepared for the feast wearing Lannister colours. She wore a long red dress stitched with cloth-of-gold on its skirts. Her upper chest was covered by sheer cloth-of-gold, and her sleeves were of Myrish lace. She wore the same ring as Tyland on the same finger and had small golden lions hanging from her ears. On her neck was a simple, thin necklace made of gold with a singular ruby, and long, curly, light brown hair was let down, which shone in the late afternoon sun that peaked in from the tiny window across from her. Her blue eyes smiled at the sight of Tyland, who let out a small breath when he saw her. She was a comely woman, with striking features some may think unconventional, and despite so many years of marriage and the birth of twins, she retained her beauty.
"As do you," she replied, smiling sultrily.
"The feast is not to commence in some half hour or so, so we still have some time. I take it that the girls are ready?" asked Tyland, looking at his two daughters. Both of them were wearing the same red and gold dress, but Cerelle had her wavy dirty blonde hair tied up whilst Tyshara's was let loose. Cerelle sat on the bed, too, gently stroking a grey kitten, whilst Tyshara ran around with a small wooden sword in her hand.
"They were quicker than you were," she laughed.
Tyland chuckled and rolled his eyes before he remembered something.
"A raven came in from Tyrek earlier..." began Tyland. "I would rather you see it before everyone else."
He reached into his satchel and handed her the parchment as she squinted over the words and read through it. She gasped and widened her eyes before rolling it back up and giving it back to Tyland.
"Though he is not truly Jason's, I feel for young Lord Joffrey," she mused. "The boy has lost both his official father and his actual father within months."
"Hm," nodded Tyland. "And he shall never get to meet him."
"Why do you plan on announcing it to everyone, later, anyways?" Johanna asked.
"The Handship is also vacant, now."
"And you intend to fill that vacancy," she nodded. "That is assuming His Grace, the King, chooses you to be the next Hand."
"As per Tyrek, His Grace listens to the Princess' every wish," Tyland said. "If she had even an ounce of sense, she shall suggest me to replace Lord Strong."
"We would all relocate to King's Landing if that were to come about, and then we would be there for Cerelle," she said as they both turned to look at their daughter. Cerelle still was sitting there, babbling at the kitten and stroking its furry back. "She's timider than Tyshara. It would be good if we were to be there, too."
Cerelle was the quieter of their two girls, preferring the company of kittens and pups. Tyshara, on the other hand, was wild and full of energy, and loved playing with toy swords and seeing men training in the yard. They were both Lannisters, though, no doubt. Cerelle had the smarts, whilst Tyshara had the pride.
"Tyshara would also enjoy the bustle of the Red Keep, too," he smiled. "Not to mention the amount of influence we would have there."
My wife, my daughters, and my house.
She chuckled at that and gave him a small peck on his lips. Afterwards, they played with their daughters for a while before heading to the Golden Gallery for the evening feast. The sun was lowering by then, the orange and pink of sunset streaming in through the hole in the wall. They arrived at the Golden Gallery shortly after that, and everyone else who was due to attend was already present. Tommen was there, as well as his wife, Genna and their sickly five-year-old son, Gerion. Tion and Lancel were also sat there, and there were four empty seats at the long table made of oak and gilded wood.
The Golden Gallery was gigantic, even larger than the Hall of Heroes. The walls, floor, and ceiling were perfectly smooth, and it looked nothing like the inside of a mountain. The ceiling was almost a hundred feet high, and three hundred lengthwise and two hundred across. On the ceiling, a gigantic mural depicted the vast histories of House Lannister, from Lann the Clever to Loren the Last, all many in between. Every ten feet, giant gold and glass chandeliers hung from it, each one with seven tallow candles burning. On the walls were rows and rows of massive tapestries, each depicting Lannisters of old, as golden statues of roaring lions and naked women were placed across the room. Two guards in red and gold armour stood guard at the massive doors at the entrance, but aside from them and the other Lannisters, the room was without other persons.
In the very centre was the long oak and gold table, stretching thirty feet across and littered with golden platters and fruits and glass pitchers of wine. Each of the seats was carved of mahogany and lined with gold, all wrought into the shape of a lion. They also were cushioned with pillows of maroon silk and stitched with cloth-of-gold. Tyland was to sit to the right of the head of the table, which was reserved for the Lord of the Rock. On his right would Johanna, then Tyshara and Cerelle. Across Tyland was Tommen, then Tion, Lancel, and Lady Genna. Gerion sat across from Cerelle, and the other end was also left empty, which is where Tyland's mother, the dowager lioness, would normally sit.
Before seating, Tyland congratulated his cousin on his betrothal, giving a firm handshake and a pat on the back. Johanna embraced him slightly whilst Tyshara and Cerelle hugged his knee. Then, they all sat at the table before supping.
"First, a prayer," Tommen said, his voice echoing across the hall. "For Jason, and for the gods to improve Mother's health."
Everyone then clasped their hands together, even wild little Tyshara, as Tommen prayed for good health, good fortune, and for House Lannister to thrive. Once that was done, a score of musicians entered the room and played songs happy and jolly, but none bawdy for the presence of the children. After that came the first of four rounds of meals. It was modest for a betrothal celebration. Tommen had seven, whilst Tyland had ten, and Jason had twenty-one. The first round was a stew of aurochs with ale, cabbage, onions, and carrots. There were also loaves of black bread and a salad of beans, beets, plums, and nuts. To cleanse the tongue, slices of oranges and lemons were on the table, as well as honeyed wine for the adults and sweetened lemon water for the children.
The feast went well; all of the courses were enjoyed, and the musicians were talented. Tion even drunkenly sang along to one of the songs whilst Tyshara danced to a non-explicit rendition of Six Maids in a Pool. During the final course of cherry tarts, lemon cakes, iced milk, and exotic fruits from the Summer Isles, a troupe of mummers from Lannisport entertained Cerelle and made Lancel spit out his wine. Tyland especially loved the portrayal of the King, so he gifted them seven gold dragons each.
Once all the tables were cleared, the mummers went, and only chalices of wine remained, along with the musicians playing a calm tune with no words; the lions sat there and talked for a while. Matters went to the rumours of a dragon-killing device being made in Myr and a slave uprising in the Ghiscari Bay. Eventually, Tyland decided to reveal the news. He looked to Johanna before commencing and briefly at Lancel, whom he had told a brief amount to earlier as well.
"There was news from King's Landing earlier today," Tyland said as a hush fell upon the table. "The Hand, Lord Lyonel Strong, and his son, Ser Harwin, have passed," he continued, preferring to spare the children of the grizzly details.
"Seven rest their souls..." whispered Lady Genna.
"I say good riddance!" laughed Tion, as Johanna scowled at him. "The Gods have cursed them both for what he did to Jason."
"Of course, that leaves the Handship open. If His Grace does choose me, that should further our standing even more," Tyland explained, ignoring Tion.
"That would be optimal," Tommen replied. "But would His Grace even choose you? Tyrek did say that the council is full of Velaryon lickspittles."
"It's in Princess Rhaenyra's interest to suggest Tyland," said Johanna.
"Would be if she did," scoffed Tion. "Having bastards was not in her interest, yet she still-"
"Which is why I am to send a raven back to Tyrek to inform him to try and encourage the Princess to suggest me," Tyland interrupted.
"We just hope that she would, then," Tommen said.
"Who would serve as castellan if you were to relocate to the capital?" Lancel asked.
He wishes it to be him.
"That I have not decided, as that has not happened yet," replied Tyland. "We shall cross that bridge when we get there."
And if we do, it would not be you.
"And we should not get ahead of ourselves in celebration," said Johanna.
"Why not?" Tion asked. "An opportunity has opened for us, and the man who cuckolded Jason has perished. That enough is cause for celebration, along with Lancel's betrothal."
"He may have cuckolded Jason, but the father of my future goodson has passed. I would spare him some mercy too."
"Lady Johanna has the right of it," Tommen said.
"It's that damned castle, I say..." said Lady Genna. "The Curse of Harrenhal."
"That's just a rumour made to scare children," scoffed Tion.
"Is it? How many houses has it been? Hoare, Qoherys, Harroway, Towers, now Strong?"
"House Strong still have other members," corrected Johanna.
"Our sister has the right of it, Tion, I'd say," said Lancel. "Especially with the manner of death-"
"Manner of death?" Tyland asked, his eyebrows raised.
I did not tell anyone of the manner bar Johanna.
"Yes, with the fire..." he replied.
"A fire?!" gasped Lady Genna.
"How did you know that it was a fire that took the Strongs?" inquired Tyland.
"You told me, earlier-" Lancel stuttered as the musicians' slowly stopped playing their drums and flutes and harps.
"No, I didn't," Tyland bluntly said. "I did not mention the manner to you earlier, neither did I do it now."
"Rumours, the talk of castle servants..." he nervously replied, wiping his forehead.
"Was this your doing?" Johanna bluntly asked.
"I'm sorry-"
"You heard what my wife asked, Lancel. Was this your doing?" questioned Tyland as the musicians rushed out of the room, their scurries echoing off the tall walls.
"A-And what... what if it was?" Lancel asked, trying to maintain his composure but failing terribly.
"This could come back to us," sighed Tommen.
"I made sure not to..." Lancel replied, his face turning redder than his doublet. "I cut the tongues of the men... from the dungeon..."
"You took men from my dungeon without my leave?" demanded Tyland, slamming his golden cup on the table, sending Arbor Gold spilling on the table and an echo around the room.
"I made sure that they were illiterate, and I oversaw the cutting of tongues myself... there is no worry of this coming back to us."
Tyland silently glared at Lancel for a moment before standing up. Everyone let out a small breath of air when he did. Slowly, he turned to the guards posted at the door.
"Guards. Take Tyshara, Cerelle, and Gerion away," he calmly said.
The two guards nodded and marched towards the table, their scabbards clanging against their armour. They took the three children, all of their footsteps clattering like drums against Tyland's ear. They exited the room, and the tall door closed with a loud bang.
Tyland took a breath and sat and looked to Lancel again. "That is not my issue. My issue is that you did this without even consulting me first. It was a stupid move that you have just made."
"Stupid?" he laughed. "How else do we show that House Lannister is not one to be walked over? That we pay our debts?"
"We are not showing anything, you fool," said Johanna. "Who outside of this room knows it was you who did this? It was needless cruelty that gains us nothing."
"It was revenge for Jason. Do you not care about the slight upon our house?" asked Lancel as two other guards returned to the gallery.
"Understand this, Lancel," Tyland whispered, tired of his cousin. "Joffrey is to come and live under this roof in some years, and become the Lord of the Rock some years after that, and even become the father of my grandchildren. You have just killed his father."
"I thought Jason was his father," he laughed.
"You have gone behind my back to conspire to burn down another lord's castle, and now you try and play the fool with me. Have you taken leave of your bloody wits?" he demanded, his voice increasing to a shout. "Who else was part of this madness?"
Tyland glared at Tion, then Lady Genna, and then Tommen.
"I had no part in this, Ty. I swear it," Tommen quickly said.
Lady Genna urgently shook her head whilst Tion sat still.
"You, too?" Tyland asked, exasperated. "Fools and madmen, the both of you."
"The Others take you with this!" scoffed Tion, finally offering his thoughts. "You seem more enraged by this than the murder of your own bloody brother! Why do you shed more tears for the man who shamed our family?"
Johanna shook her head before standing up. She calmly walked around the table to Tion and smacked him right across the face before returning to her seat. Tion stood up and reached to his hip before Tyland intervened.
"Stop this, Tion!" Tyland commanded, standing up as the two guards at the door rushed forward. "Now!"
"She hit me..." he whimpered, his pride just as bruised as his cheek.
"More than you bloody deserve," said Tyland, hushing the guards away. "Neither of you do not seem to grasp the magnitude of what you have just done. Not only have you killed the father and grandfather of your Lord, but you have also removed one of our largest allies."
"Our allies?" he asked.
"Yes. Our allies. I do not know whether or not you paid attention to the maesters' lessons, but let me lay this out for your simple mind. Lyonel Strong was the biggest defender of Princess Rhaenyra in court, from what Tyrek tells me. He may have been the very reason Joffrey's parentage hasn't been brought up. Killing him brings the possibility of that. Say some ally of the Blues is made Hand, and the issue of the parentage of Joffrey arises. With no Lyonel Strong, the accusations would not have as much protection, and it will be confirmed that Jason was not Joffrey's father. When that happens, the entire realm shall see us as fools, if you want to speak of our pride and honour. And that is not mentioning whether this comes back to us... then you would have a dragon flying up to the Rock to burn every single one of us!"
Tion was speechless at Tyland, and it seemed for a moment he saw the foolishness of his actions.
"Since you both happen to share a grandfather with me, I shall be merciful and not throw you from the top of the Rock," Tyland said. "Instead, you are to leave Casterly Rock before daybreak on the morrow."
"You're banishing us?" Lancel spluttered.
"You can't! They're my brothers, Tyland..." begged Lady Genna.
"I can, because I am in charge of the Rock, and I am doing it now," Tyland replied calmly.
"Tell him, Tom, please," pleaded Lady Genna.
"No," Tommen bluntly replied. "Go with your brothers if you wish, but he has the right of this."
"Why?" Tion laughed. "Over this of all bloody things? Because you support the Princess' claim? Are your ambitions truly that lofty? Do you truly value putting your blood on the Iron Throne over your damn cousins?"
Tyland paused for a moment and looked him in the eyes. "Yes. Yes, I do," he whispered.
"Cunt," Tion whispered loud enough for all to hear.
"Guards," Tyland said, and the two guards rushed forwards and grabbed Tion by the arms. "Remove him from Casterly Rock, at this instant. Give him a horse, and a cloak, so he reaches Lannisport safely."
The two guards dragged Tion away whilst he screamed curses at Tyland until he was out of sight and his insults were out of reach. Then, Tyland walked up to Lancel and put his mouth to his ear.
"Go to Lannisport, and have your bloody marriage there. I shall no longer fund the thing, nor shall I or my family attend. Take up residence in the city, I shall allow you and Tion that, or run to Lord Vikary with your tail between your legs. Tell Tion that if you or he mean to return, I shall have you working in the mines for the rest of your days," whispered Tyland. "Are we of understanding?"
Lancel quickly nodded and quickly exited the gallery. At the table, Lady Genna was sobbing uncontrollably whilst Tommen was drinking a cup of wine, and Johanna leaned back in her chair, her face angry and tired. The feast was over, and everyone returned to their chambers.
That night, Tyland was in his chambers with Johanna. They were both in their nightclothes, Tyland in a thin white tunic and breeches, whilst Johanna in similar attire, the cloth so sheer he could see her nipples.
"You did the right thing," Johanna whispered as she climbed into the bed.
"I know I did," he sighed, climbing in as well. "Yet I still have doubts over it."
"Over what?" she gently asked.
"All of it," laughed Tyland. "If I were to be offered the Handship, the four of us would go King's Lading, leaving Tion and Lancel far away from my reach."
"They would still be banished from the Rock, wouldn't they?"
"Yes, they would, but they would still be free to spread rumours, and mount a rebellion. Remove Tom, and Gerion's a sickly child, on top of being his sister's son, too. Then they would both be much, much closer to being Lord of the Rock... and if I am to remain here, what of the happenings of King's Landing? Say the rumours somehow become public, and people would see us as a group of cuckolds and fools, and we would have no royal marriage to show for it, either."
"I do not envy your position, Tyland," she laughed.
"You shouldn't," he replied, leaning over to kiss her good night.
This is what I should have expected, wasn't it?
Tyland blew out the candles, and they were shrouded in darkness.
Getting involved with the Targaryens is like playing with fire - you burn in the end.