Chapter 17: How it's got to be
Tommen POV: 30th Day of the Twelfth Moon, 298 AC
The morning was hot as it always was. The hot southern sun shone down upon him with the faintest cool breeze. He turned his head briefly and admired the towering castle behind him, he would rather be inside of it than out here in the courtyard that surrounded Maegors Holdfast but decency required him to be. He would likely regret it for the rest of his life if he wasn't out here in the courtyard too, even if he didn't dare admit it.
Myrcella certainly didn't seem to mind the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
"Goodbye Mother," Myrcella managed through her tears, "I'll miss you dearly."
But she did not respond, she simply hugged her daughter closely. They stayed like that for what must have been minutes neither wanting to separate from the other. When they did separate Cersei turned her head towards him, he could make out her eyes through the gray veil that covered her face.
"I'll miss you too Mother," he said honestly, he would miss her, but her lust for power and control had to be punished to the farthest extent lest he be seen as weak as Aenys. No one was above punishment not even the Queen Mother.
Tommen thought he could see some sort of anger flare through the veil but it was quickly subdued. He felt something blossoming in his chest. Is that pride? Yes, it was pride he decided. He had removed Cersei's claws completely and utterly, not even the High Sparrow had managed to do that but he had.
I'm a terrible son, aren't I?
He took a step towards her and embraced her kissing the veil right above her brow. After hugging his mother for the last time Tommen separated from her and gave her a stiff nod. Cersei turned to Myrcella and embraced her one last time.
She then reluctantly turned to her fellow sisters all four of them wearing veils of gray and walked to the carriage that would carry them to Oldtown.
He heard the cawing of a crow in one of the courtyard's trees. It was staring directly at him, it was a queer sight even odder was the shiver that traveled down his spine when he looked into its eyes. Its eyes though barely perceptible to his own seemed to bore into him.
He shook his head and when he turned back his sight back the carriage carrying his mother its horses were already spurred and pulling the carriage out of the courtyard.
He turned to Myrcella and tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder, but she ignored him and turned away heading back into the keep. He didn't blame her for her resentment towards him, she would only dislike him more before the month was over, and any attempt to comfort her would end up being fruitless.
He turned towards Ser Barristan, "I would like a ride through the city, Fishmongers Square to be clear, assemble the men."
"As you command, your Grace,"
Tommen with Ser Arys and Ser Balon made their way to the stables and saddled their horses. Soon thirty men of the Watch along with the rest of the Kingsguard joined him. They made their way out of the thick and fortified walls of the Red Keep and into the bustling and disorganized city that was Kings Landing.
He noticed the many who sought refuge from the war in the Riverlands, the streets more full and the smell more repugnant. Some looked as if they weighed half as much as he did, it only served to further discomfort him. He had known in the past what a starving and disgruntled populace was capable of. He noticed some looked at him with smiles and looks of wonder, some with scornful looks who spit on the ground as his convoy passed them, most however went about their business not sparing them much more than a glance.
They made their way down the hook until they arrived at the tallest building in the area, a large sun-colored structure that housed tens of whores. It was the only brothel in Fishmongers Square as most were on the street of Silk, many despised it, especially the merchants who worked around it, as it stole the attention of many of their customers.
He dismounted from Fastmane and began his entry into the establishment, all eyes turned to him as he entered but he ignored them and he climbed the steps to Corlan's office. The door was opened without question by the young guard guarding Corlan.
Thankfully, upon entering the Solar, Corlan was not fondling some girl (or himself) but was instead scribbling some notes down with his quill, his eyes turned to meet him, "Tommen," he dropped the quill and rose from the chair making his way over to greet him.
Tommen shook hands with the man and brought him in for a hug. "It's good to see you, friend."
"You as well your Grace, it's been some time. I was sorry to hear of the events in the Red Keep, I hope you lost no one you cared for."
Tommen's smile faded somewhat at the reminder, "No one particularly close to me died no. But I hate to see those I love suffering the loss of their loved ones. Many good men died that day, madness it was. Madness and stupidity."
"I agree Tommen, I had worried-"
He laughed, "What that I was dead too? Then you'd get all the profits, you greedy bastard." Corlan smiled at the tease, "I assure you Corlan I am not easily killed. Doubtless many have already tried."
"I-uh Tommen would you like a drink? Profits have been nearly double since the refugees have started to flood in." Corlan laughed cheekily, "So have the workers, truth be told. I believe we finally have enough to pay for Chatayas."
Tommen placed his hand upon the man's shoulder, "I'm sorry to refuse your offer friend, but today is the day."
Corlan's frown deepened and his face grew darker, he didn't want to be regent, that is why he was perfect for the position! Besides he'd only be 'Protector of the Realm' in name. In reality he would be his lickspittle, and Tommen would make the decisions.
He scratched behind his ear, "I suppose it is your Grace."
"Lighten up Corlan, forget about Chatayas, soon enough you will have enough gold to bathe in… Saddle your horse, the council awaits."
"Boy," Tyrion said to the cupbearer.
"Yes, milord?"
Tyrion nearly rolled his eyes before raising his goblet, "My goblet is empty. Filling it would do us both good."
The boy approached with the canister and started pouring water. Water? He put his hand over the goblet and inevitably had water poured upon him though he did not mind. The boy though was petrified and turned as red as a maiden. "Water? Why are you pouring water? Give me wine."
The boy stuttered out a response, "I uh… Milord I-"
He was interrupted by Lady Olenna, "There is no wine. The King has seen fit to dispose of it, we are only to drink water in these dreadful chambers. It's better to get your fill beforehand."
He's seen fit to make us suffer, he mused.
He reluctantly removed his hand, "Fine pour the water, my mouth is dry."
Council meetings were tedious proceedings Tyrion came to realize. A blend of bickering and boredom. Made only worse by the fact that the King was late and he had bothered to attend council meetings before, so the council sat, waiting. He eyed Baelish who was sitting beside him already looking at him curiously, a smirk pulling at his lips.
"I must ask how your stay in the Eerie was?"
"Wonderful!" he lied, "I stayed in the Sky Cells, fantastic view, and I developed a friend in my gaoler, Mord. But alas my time to return to politicking had arrived and I had to part. A shame really."
"Hmm, Lysa wasn't too cruel to you was she?"
He took a sip of water, "No more than I would expect."
Petyr smiled, "She has always been somewhat… erratic. Though I wonder why she imprisoned you?"
He has balls, I'll give him that, "Hate's Lannisters, but that's a common thing among people. No, she accused me of killing her husband Jon Arryn, and of conspiring to kill the Stark boy, Brandon Stark."
"Interesting," Little Finger mumbled, "Did you?"
Tyrion's face was deadpan, "of course not, though it is interesting. They said I bet in a tourney and won a dagger… from you. They said I bet against my brother Jaime. They should know better, I never bet against my family."
Petyr smiled then said, "Curious thing, isn't it? Lying about such a thing though I am not too shocked. Lysa and Catelyn have always been deceitful, I claimed her maidenhead you know?"
"Lysa's?"
Little Finger shrugged, "Both girls, but I meant Catelyn, she has always been positively predisposed towards me but alas I am from a minor House, and she could not marry me, even if she desired to."
"Very curious indeed," Tyrion said. The Mockingbird doesn't have much time till his head is on a spike, he mused. But Littlefinger has made himself useful thus far, he has a talent for rubbing two Silver Stags together and producing a golden dragon. Do I dare dispose of him now when the Kingdoms are at war and where gold is sparse? It was then that footsteps were heard from across the room as two men trailed behind the King but in front of the Kingsguard.
There was the red-haired Ser Addam Marbrand dressed in his armor, and on the other side of the King was a man he did not recognize. His head was mostly bald except for the black hair with wisps of white on the sides of his head along with the black beard he carried. He wasn't particularly tall, but he did have a gut that spilled over his belt. He was dressed richly in a dark blue doublet and silken trousers. Judging by the looks of the other council members they didn't know the man either. But Little Finger seemed to know exactly who the man was if his amused look were anything to go by.
All three men took their seats, Tommen at the head of the table sitting beside Tyrion and across from his bride-to-be. The man with the gut sat across from Tommen and Ser Addam sat beside him. The king tapped his fingers a few times before starting, "My Lords, my Ladies, the positions of Regent and Commander of the Gold Cloaks have been left void for too long. I would like to offer up my suggestions for the positions." He gestured towards the red-haired Knight, "Ser Addam Marbrand for the seat as Commander of the City Watch, I can think of no better man."
Tyrion voted first, "I agree nephew, I would expect no less."
Pycelle spoke next, "A sage choice your Grace, this appointment has my backing as well."
"Has my vote," Renly said drinking into his goblet.
Little Finger smiled and nodded completing the majority vote. Tyrion was surprised when neither Olenna nor Margaery voted. Perhaps their influence is more limited than I originally thought…
"And Corlan Wode for the position of Regent."
Corlan Wode, the name sounded familiar.
"Wonderous how high us brothel Keep rise." Little Finger said.
A short silence consumed the table before being broken by the elderly and stuttering Grandmaester, "A-uh Brothel Keep your Grace?" Pycelle asked to which the King nodded. "Surely you cannot-"
Pycelle was interrupted by Tyrion, "This is folly. Is this a joke Tommen? You know better than this."
Tommen sighed, "It's nothing of the sort, and the man is as loyal as he is shrewd."
He scoffed, "What of your Uncle? What of your grandfather? What of anyone? Why him?"
"Because he is loyal."
"And we are not?" Tyrion began to squeeze his fist, his jaw shut tight.
Tommen paused for a moment, "All of you out, I'd like to speak to my uncle alone for a moment." Everyone rose from their chairs and made a hurried exit besides the Kingsguard and the cupbearer who seemed unsure of what to do. Once the room was cleared he continued, "No, I do not trust anyone on this council Uncle. Mother failed me as my Regent for the week that she was. I took precautions to assure her loyalty by placing one of my Kingsguard in her chambers while she slept, not even that worked. And because of my negligence, hundreds died and my position is increasingly unstable."
"You shouldn't blame yourself."
Tommen nodded, "I blame her more than I blame myself but it's still the same."
"This- this appointment will only further destabilize your position it's an insult to all parties. It's an insult to the Tyrells to appoint the brothel Keep as Regent as Lady Margaery will soon be your wife. It's an insult to the Baratheons as Renly was the most likely candidate. It's an insult to the Lannisters as well."
"I'm well aware, and I'm well aware of how it will affect my image but it's a risk worth taking."
"How is that?"
Tommen gestured to the cupbearer and he approached and began to pour red wine into the King's goblet.
Bastard
He sipped on the wine, "After I am wed and the strength of Highgarden and Storms End is behind me, I intend to ride out to Harrenhal so that we might finally settle the Northern dissent, that should dissuade anymore of my vassals from rebelling. You shall work with Corlan and Margaery while I'm away."
"You trust the Tyrell girl?"
"Not particularly no, but she is a smart girl and as the Queen, she will want peace as much as I do. The only will that shall be followed on this council is mine own, not yours, not Renly's, not Tywin Lannister's. Mine. And Corlan shall ensure that."
"And you don't trust me. Why? We are family Tommen, we should trust one another."
"Family," The King let out a single laugh, "I often find family to be the people I don't trust. Robert was a drunken whoremonger. Joffrey a vicious fool. And mother an arbitrary imbecile." Tyrion believed he saw Ser Barristan wince at the insults to the Kings he had served merely weeks before. "I trust few on this earth but rest assured Corlan is one of the few."
Tyrion relaxed his grip and his jaw unclenched, "And what has he done to earn such love?"
"He's been loyal and has never betrayed me despite being tested time and time again. Trust is earned Uncle, and no one on this council has yet earned my trust." Interesting how the brothel keep has curried such favor with the King, Tyrion almost dug further but decided not to.
"Your Lords will not love you for this."
"I do not need their love, the best weapon for a King is fear, as it commands respect. Men may not love me, but I do not ask for their love only for their obedience." Tyrion believed he heard his father say something similar once.
"Careful Tommen, if they fear you too much they may run into the arms of your enemies. It's better to be loved than feared."
"I disagree, but you are right. I have no intention of being a hated King, but the people will respect me as well will they fear me. I shall need to first crush Robb Stark in the field however to realize that." Tyrion did not fear Robb Stark, though the boy had proven his mettle in the field. The real threat was Stannis Baratheon he knew.
"You've changed." An obvious observation, the Tommen he had last been with during their travels on the Kings Road had been a gleeful and caring child. Now he was colder, his eyes more scrutinizing, his demeanor more unforgiving.
He nodded, "Kingship commands me to." Tommen turned to one of the Kingsguards behind him, "Ser Mandon, summon back the rest of the council we have many things to discuss."And by the end of the meeting, the King got what he wished.
AN: If any are wondering why both this chapter and the last chapter have the label of 'chapter 17' it's because I combined two of the chapters from Ao3 before uploading it here. Sorry for the short chapter!