Loren was thankful that Sebaston did not try to do what Cersei did and demonstrate his power by making him wait. He beckoned Loren in politely and gestured to the chair opposite his desk, which Loren promptly took. "Congratulations once again on your appointment, lord Hand," Loren said softly.

"My thanks my lord. I confess I was surprised to be asked, but when duty calls, a man answers."

Like when the ironmen attacked Fair Isle and I had to cross in a fishing skiff to drive them off your land? Loren thought. "And you have called me here," he said, not mentioning the war. "How can I help you?"

"There are several matters that I hoped we could discuss, matters of deep concern to the crown." Loren nodded. The office of the Hand was still largely empty, filled with trunks yet to be unpacked. The rest of the tower was much the same. Lord Farman's wife and son remained at Fair Isle, and his household was small, but the servants were handling that while Lord Farman got to work. It was impressive. He wouldn't have been the first to spend days decorating the tower before moving in.

"I would be happy to discuss them with you," Loren said.

"First and foremost, the crown's debts," Sebaston said, pulling out a sheet of paper. "They are considerable."

"I know, I hold most of them," Loren replied. "You may rest assured I will not be bankrupting the realm when it is unable to pay."

"That is good to hear, my lord. But I knew that of you. What concerns me is the Iron Bank of Braavos."

"How much do we owe them?"

"A million gold dragons, not including the interest payments." Loren didn't even want to know. "Thanks to the Baratheon blockade of the harbour, we have been unable to pay these debts, and the Iron Bank have sent us this," he held up the paper. "They want their gold back."

"Are we in a position to make such payments?"

"Not according to the Master of Coin. With the loss of tax incomes from the North and Riverlands, our finances are more stretched than ever. Unfortunately, this matters nothing to the Iron Bank. They want their gold," he said again.

"What do you propose?"

Sebaston sat back, sighing in frustration. "Matters like this can be poorly interpreted by letter. I believe that a messenger should be sent. They can take ship from Maidenpool or White Harbour to avoid the Baratheon fleet."

"This is a matter of finance, surely lord Baelish is the man to send?"

"I dare not. Only that man can keep us afloat here. We need to send another."

"Who?"

"I was thinking that you would be most appropriate, my lord."

Loren frowned. "Me?"

"Yes. As you hold the largest portion of the crown's debts, you would be ideally placed to placate the iron bank, smooth things out until we can start pulling in more tax incomes. If you are confident in the crown's ability to repay you, then the iron bank will be as well."

It made a certain kind of sense, but there was of course one other matter. "And the war? I am the King's Marshall, such negotiations would take months, there are still Baratheon holdouts in the south that need to be crushed, and as King's Marshall, I would lead the army against them."

"The queen has a number of potential men to hold the post while you negotiate."

And there it was. Not content with removing Tyrion and Margaery from the council, Cersei wanted him gone as well. What was wrong with her? Perhaps she thought back to the time his army had besieged the Red Keep, was she fearful that they might do that again? He thought of Gerold, the knight who had rallied the army to free him.

"Are you well, my lord?"

Loren forced his face to relax. "Yes, thank you," he said. "But I am afraid I must decline, my lord Hand."

"You… decline?" Sebaston asked.

Loren nodded. "Yes, I am needed here until the war is concluded. I understand the importance of your mission to Braavos, but right now I must be here. There are others who might be of service for you in this regard."

"Who?"

"My brother. Tyrion finds himself without a council position or responsibilities. But he remains the king's uncle, and the brother of the man who holds the largest share of the King's debts. But until the army has won the war in the south, I cannot leave."

Lord Farman considered Loren's words, then nodded. "As you say," he conceded. "I will consult with the Queen on commissioning your brother for this embassy to Braavos. It will have to take place after the wedding of course."

"Of course," Loren said. He wondered whether this ruse to get him to Braavos had been Cersei's idea, or if she had just demanded that Sebaston find a way to get Loren out of the capital and he had decided upon this mission to Braavos. Either way, he hoped their next attempt would be as obvious and easy to counter. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes, I understand lady Alysanne and lady Lelia will be joining us for the wedding."

"They will," Loren confirmed.

"Will they be joining you in the keep?"

Loren shook his head. "Don't worry, they won't be taking up any extra space here. I have taken possession of a manse in the city, I'lll be keeping them there for the duration of the wedding."

Lord Farman nodded. "I'm glad you've found a place for them. But if you would prefer the safety of the keep, there are several chambers in the Tower of the Hand that remain unoccupied. I would be happy to have them here."

Do you mean that as a way of gaining favour with your lord, or to try and get leverage over me? Loren thought that the latter was unlikely. His family would only be here for a little while before they returned to the Rock. More likely he was currying favour. "I thank you for the offer, but the keep is going to be crowded. I'd rather keep them away from the centre of things."

"Of course, my lord, the offer stands if you wish to move them up here."

"I will remember your kindness, lord Hand. Will you be joining us this afternoon?"

"Joining you?"

"I'm taking the lords of the west out hawking. It's been a busy time since my father died, and I thought they could use one last day of entertainment before we get bogged down in final wedding planning. I'm sure I sent you an invitation."

"Yes, you did, I remember now. I wish I could, but I need to get things settled here. There is a lot of work that has built up in the absence of a Hand of the King."

Loren nodded, unsurprised. "Of course. If you require any aid, I would be happy to provide it."

"I'm sure I will avail you of that offer," Lord Farman's smile turned wry. "Enjoy your hawking, my lord."

()()()

"Excellent catch, ser Addam!" Loren applauded with many other lords of the west as Addam Marbrand's goshawk returned with a grouse clutched in it's feet. Addam's bird returned to him and he presented the prize to the crowd.

"I think that's the biggest catch of the day!" Lord Hawthorne bellowed.

The company was under a marquee marked with the lion banner, on a small rise just to the west of King's Landing. The Red Keep and Great Sept were visible from here, cresting over the horizon. No fewer than a hundred lordlings and knights had come to enjoy the afternoon of hawking and eating. Ser Addam had indeed scored the biggest catch of the day. But Lord Brax's falcon had snatched three other birds out of the air, including one from the claws of Lord Serret's own bird. But not all present had come to participate, some had come to watch, like Lord Gawen Westerling, Lord Roland Crakehall and his second son Lyle, all three recently released from Stark captivity. Of the three, only Lyle retained the muscle they had before the war, the other two had softened in chains.

"My lord," Lord Melwyn Bettley approached, with Lord Tybolt Foote in tow. They stood over where he was sat on the hill.

"My lords," Loren raised his cup to them.

"May we speak, my lord?" Lord Foote asked, the scar across his nose seeming deeper than it had been.

Loren gestured for them to join him and they did so. Melwyn spoke first, in a hushed voice. "My lord, we must speak."

Loren felt his chest tighten. From their tone he knew what they wanted to discuss. He had done what needed to be done that night, nothing more. He had successfully avoided any potential discussion of it by keeping busy, rarely meeting with his lords except in extended company, where it couldn't be discussed. The conspiriators and witnesses had not said anything, and he hoped it would stay that way.

"What is it?"

They looked at each other. "We have heard worrying talk in the capital," Tybolt said.

Loren did not reply, leaving Melwyn to add "with the imminent arrival of the northern delegation there is talk of vengeance, of a new war."

He frowned. "Do they plan to attack the northmen?"

"It doesn't sound it, the talk was of war, territory and conquest. Revenge most of all."

"Who speaks of this?"

"Knights, my lord. Lordlings, those returned from the front lines for the wedding."

"Great lords?" Loren asked. That was what mattered. If the lords wanted war, they could push for it, but if they didn't push, then the crown had nothing to answer.

"Not that we heard, my lord."

Loren nodded. "Then we shouldn't be too concerned. Many people lost loves in the war against Robb Stark. It is understandable that they are angry, but without the lords, there is no war."

"And the council?" Tybolt asked.

"Has not talked of war. On that front, everything is as we would wish it."

"Not everything, Lord Farman's appointment was unexpected," Melwyn replied.

"Unexpected, but far from a disaster," Loren said. "My sister expected a loyalist toad. Lord Farman is not bold, but he is no fool either. I do not fear a resumption of war with him in the Tower of the Hand."

"But he wasn't meant to be named Hand," Tybolt added, looking at Loren pointedly.

"I know. The hope was that I would be named Hand in my father's stead. By haste or simple foolishness, we misjudged, I misjudged. But there is nothing I can do to force the issue. Cersei is the regent and she has the power to appoint the Hand. It is not a hereditary position."

"Regents are not kings, they can be moved to make changes."

"They can," Loren conceded. "But to do so I would need influence and allies, and I lack either here."

"You are the lord of Casterly Rock, you have the Lannister family and the lords of the west at your back," Melwyn pointed out. "We would stand with you."

"And I do not take that for granted, my lords. But it is around the council table I would need allies my only firm ally on the council is my uncle, now that my brother has been removed, and he would not help me move against Cersei, not yet. She would have to do much more to prove herself unfit before he would support me. The Grand Maester must remain neutral," in truth Pycelle was Cersei's creature and unlikely to support him against her. "Ser Garlan and I can work together where needed, but he holds a temporary seat for his father, and I have my doubts that Lord Mace would support my ascent to the Handship. He would far more prefer that position himself."

"Out of chains into the Tower of the Hand?" Tybolt asked incredulously.

"He has big dreams, certainly," Melwyn scoffed.

"This is a man who married his daughter to Renly Baratheon to make her a queen," Loren pointed out. At least Stannis' false claims made him the legitimate king. But Renly hadproclaimed himself king leaving the question of Stannis unanswered, let alone Joffrey and Tommen. Even Myrcella might have pressed a claim above Renly.

Tybolt shook his head. "What about the spider, the Master of Coin?"

"I locked them both in the Black Cells the last time I was Hand. I doubt they would rush to reinstate me." How many times had he paid for that decision?

"But you are the saviour of King's Landing at least twice over. You defeated Stannis Baratheon-"

"With an army that is far from here," Loren pointed out. "And perhaps for now this is for the best. If I were Hand I would have to stay here. As King's Marshall I can return to the front as soon as the wedding is over."

"And when you do, who will speak against war then?"

Loren had no answer to that.

"My lord!" They turned to Ser Addam who was waving at them. "Will you join us, we're about to send out the birds again. Marvin almost has enough to feed us all."

The cook was stoking the large fire over which they would roast the kills of the day.

Loren got to his feet. "Gladly."

"Will you hawk with us?" Ser Manfryd Yew asked.

"I fear my birds remain at Casterly Rock. I will breathe in the successes of my bannerment today." His lords cheered. Loren pulled off one of his gloves and held it up. "And for the most successful, I will give as many dragons as can fit into this glove."

"It will be mine!" Ser Manfryd declared boldly.

Ser Addam laughed. "Come Ser Manfryd, my bird has outflown yours all day."

"Not this time, Marbrand!"

Loren smiled and stood back, allowing those driven by a desire for some gold to step forward, collecting their birds from cages and donning their hawking gloves. He pulled his own glove back on against the breeze.

With a single unified fling, the birds were released into the air to hunt down their pray. They cheered and taunted as the birds winged after finches and kestrels and other birds.

Ser Addam looked fit to win the day, his bird soaring after a blue feathered kestrel that had taken flight from the woods. "Whose bird is that?" Gawen Westerling asked, pointing with his gloved hand to where a white bird was streaking across the sky.

Loren raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sky glare as he tracked the shape. "That's a gyrfalcon, who brought a gyrfalcon?" He glanced around and looked back at the bird when no one committed. Then he did a double take. "That's my gyrfalcon!" He hadn't used the beast in a long time. They had time for one session of hawking when he returned from the east and then he was off to war again. But he was sure it was his. As he finished the bird tucked it's wings in close and dived, fast and sharp.

"I thought you weren't competing, lord?"

"He just doesn't want to part with his own gold," Tybolt jested.

"That bird should be in Casterly Rock," Loren insisted. The bird shot into the trees and moments later shot out again, clutching a hare in it's talons, twisting and jerking against the flight of the falcon until it stopped.

"And he wins," Tybolt laughed. "Well played my lord, well played."

"That wasn't me," Loren said. The bird flew high over them, shooting out in the direction of King's Landing, to where a party of riders was approaching them.

"Whose late to join us?" Manfryd asked as they all regarded the riders, the wagon coming up behind them and the escort guarding them.

"And why do they have lord Loren's bird?"

Loren's hand drifted to the dagger at his waist. "Danger, lord?" Ser Addam asked.

"I'm not sure," Loren replied. But as they came closer Loren saw it was a party of women, riding leisurely on geldings. His gyrfalcon soared gently down to the outstretcher arm of one of the two women leading the group and his breath hitched. "Lelia," he breathed.

His daughter rubbed the top of the falcon's head affectionately while her mother, Alysanne, led the women onwards. "Jeyne?" Lord Westerling said, confused but joyed. Others recognised wives and daughters as well.

"How fare you, my lords?" Lady Alysanne said, dismounting in a single elegant motion. "The day is not done, I hope?"

"Not at all," Loren said, smiling widely. "Do come and join us. We were about to start eating."

She bowed and the ladies swarmed, falling upon their husbands and brothers and fathers.

Loren took Alysanne's hands in his and leant in to kiss her cheek. "You were supposed to send word when you crossed the border of the crownlands," he whispered.

"I know, but Lelia and I decided to surprise you. Of course when we arrived at the capital, we found that you had left for the day, so here we are."

"If you like, father, we can return to the border and you can come and meet us?" Lelia joked. She held the bird on her arm, dismounting easily with it still on her wrist.

Alysanne snapped her head around to look at her daughter. "Were you eavesdropping on your father's words to me?"

"No, I didn't hear what he said, but I could guess from your reply."

"And you found these women on the way?" Loren asked, not wanting his wife and daughter's word duel to get out of hand.

Alysanne scoffed. "Not at all, they were at the Rock and wanted to attend with us, so I brought them along."

"You can't blame them for wanting to attend the event of decades, particularly after the war," Lelia reasoned. She held out her hand, palm down.

Loren raised an eyebrow. "Really, daughter?"

"Yes."

Loren sighed, took the hand and brushed his lips over the back of her knuckles. "Thank you, my lord," she curtsied, still holding the bird on her arm. Her hair was braided and coiled, and her gown was all the finery of Lannister red and gold. To the unfamiliar she might have been mistaken for a young, Cersei. But Cersei was an image of contrasts. At times cold, chipped into shape by a master sculptor, ot else raging wildfire, something to be escaped and never controlled. Lelia was the warmth of spring, softer and more welcoming than his sister had ever been. He would have to make sure she spent some time with Myrcella.

"And you brought my bird."

She rubbed under the bird's beak affectionately. "We thought there might be time for some hawking while we were gone, since mother has expressly forbidden me from swimming while we're here."

"Quite right too, the only place to swim around here is the Blackwater, and that's out of the question."

Lelia sighed, clearly hoping that he would overrule her mother. "I'll just have to hawk with Goldwing instead," she said, smiling at the bird who sat obediently on her arm.

"Goldwing?"

"You never named him, so I did," she said proudly.

"Well then, let's see you put goldwing to use, shall we. I owe gold to the best hawker of the day."

They returned to the city as the sun began to dip, and while lordlings and their ladies returned to the Red Keep, Loren diverted and led Lelia and Alysanne to the manse Tyrion had bought from Lord Baelish. It was now guarded by trusted Lannister guardsmen, who had swept the place top to bottom looking for secret passages, and found nothing. He had the servants bring in the luggage from the wagon before tying the horses up in the small stable inside. "I trust you've both eaten enough?" He asked as he led them up the stairs.

"Indeed," Alysanne said.

"Yes, any more and I'll need a new dress for the wedding," Lelia added, only half jesting. She had certainly proven her appetite when Marvin had served them up their catches.

Loren smiled at her. "Well, take whichever of those rooms you like."

"And ours?" Alysanne asked, as Lelia hurried to find the best room. They were all much of a muchness to Loren.

"This way," he said, leading Aly to the top floor of the main building and the largest bedroom.

"Very nice," Alysanne said approvingly, looking around the well furnished room with crimson curtains, carpets and bedcovers, silver candlesticks and goblets. "What possessed you to purchase a manse in the city?"

"It was Tyrion's idea actually," Loren said, hanging his cloak on the back of the door and holding out his hand to take Alysanne's as well. "It seemed wise to have a place in the city that was ours, not the King's. Especially with the wedding about to happen, the city is going to get very busy."

"Well, I approve," she said, sitting down on the bed. Loren sat down next to her, groaning as he did so. "Are you alright?" She asked, taking his hand. "I know it can't have been easy, loosing your father at such a time, leaving Cersei in charge."

"No, it wasn't," he said. But it had to be done. "But he would always leave big boots to fill."

"That's certainly true," Alysanne said. "I'm sorry about Gerold too. I know he meant a great deal to you."

"I owe him my liberty and my life," Loren whispered.

"That was his duty. Mourn his death of course, but do not feel guilt over it."

He turned to her. "I can't help but feel guilt, for that and so much more," he whispered, so low he wasn't sure she heard him. Before she could press further, he changed the subject. "Have you heard anything more from Joanna?"

She looked away, biting her lip. "No. Not yet."

"Was she angry?" Loren asked.

"She was sad. She was in denial. But angry, no. I was angry. I am angry and I did not act appropriately."

"What do you mean?"

"We passed the caravan carrying your father's body to Casterly Rock," she said. "I refused to pay my respects, and I was vocal about my thoughts. The entire escort would have seen and heard me. Even Lelia was ashamed to be seen with me."

"I don't blame you," Loren said, squeezing her hand. "I was angry too."

They just sat together for long moments. From outside they heard luggage being brought in by the servants. "Not that room that room!" They heard Lelia say from the floor below.

"How have the children taken it?"

Alysanne shook her head. "They were upset. Tion and Joanna were the closest. Myrielle was sad, but also relieved that she wasn't going, which made her feel guilty in turn. Lelia has taken it the most in stride, but I think she's hiding something under that exterior."

Loren nodded. "I'll speak with her tomorrow."

"After the wedding, you'll be returning to the frontlines."

"Yes, why?" Loren asked, confused at the sudden change in topics.

"Once you're done there, perhaps you could return to the Rock, at least for a little. Maybe we could take the children to visit Joanna, if the King in the North would permit it."

"I'd like that. I also plan to ask Prince Tristan to intervene with his brother on our behalf, and ask that Joanna be the first to be returned."

"Do you think that will work?"

"I don't know. But I have to ask."

She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank y-" He kissed her back. They slowly drew their arms around each other. "Thank you," she finished when they parted, resting their foreheads against each other for a quiet moment before she pulled back. "What about Cersei, how has she been as regent?"

Loren groaned. "Please, let's not talk about Cersei tonight. I get enough of that with the council."

Alysanne rubbed his back softly. "Alright then. Let's get to bed, it's been a long day for both of us."

The next morning Alysanne woke him up with a bowl of porridge and berries topped with a fried egg and some dark rye bread on the side. When he was done they lay back under the covers. Alysanne rested her head on his chest and he held gently. "Do you have to go to the keep today?" She asked.

"I do," he said. "Do you want to bring Lelia to see everyone today."

"It is the proper thing."

"But you don't want to."

"I don't want to leave this bed. But I fear we must."

"You're right of course," Loren said, swinging his legs out from under the covers and standing up, stretching the aches and pops out of his muscles and bones. He chose a red linen tunic with black boots, breeches and half cloak for the day. "Why don't you stay here for the morning, come join us in the keep after midday. I'll tell the guards to let you in."

Alysanne smiled and pulled the covers up to her neck. "That sounds excellent."

"Don't go to sleep now."

"I'm not, I'm just resting my eyes."

Loren shook his head. "Alright, I'll tell the staff to wake you in plenty of time."

He closed the door softly behind him and headed down to the second floor. But when he poked his head into Lelia's room, he found it organised but empty. Martyn, the housekeeper, informed him that Lelia was outside.

He entered the garden, where the flowers were able to mask much of the smell of the city. "Lelia?" He asked.

"Here father," he heard.

"There you - gods!" He said, throwing his arm up over his eyes when he turned the corner on the flagstoned path and saw that Lelia was in the bathing pool. Her nightgown was draped over a chair to the side. He heard a splashing, as Lelia rushed to cover herself under the water as well. "Next time warn me when you aren't wearing anything," he said.

"Next time don't come upon me when I'm naked," she replied hotly.

"Where is your towel?"

"Under the gown," Lelie replied.

Loren lifted the down and pulled out the towel, handing it out blindly. A short splash and slaps of wet feet on flagstones and the towel was snatched from his hand.

"You can look now," he said. She had wrapped the towel around her body, covering her from chest to thigh. Her face was as red as Loren's shirt.

"Did you have a good bath?"

"Better before my own father saw me in it."

"I didn't see anything," Loren said, thanking the gods for it.

"Well. Good."

"So we tell you not to swim and you bath instead?" He asked, cutting the tension.

Lelia gestured to the pool "Please, father, you can't swim in that."

It was true, the small circular pool would be too small for him to lie flat across it. He sat down on the side of the pool and gestured for Lelia to sit down on the chair.

"What's wrong father?" She asked, frowning as she sat.

"I just wanted to ask how you were. It's been a long time and a lot has changed."

"I'm well, despite the changes," Lelia said.

"About Joanna," he said.

"Jo knew what was asked of her. I would have gone if I were commanded," she said firmly.

"But how do you feel about her being gone?"

Lelia sniffed, tightening her towel, even though it was perfectly secure. "I understand it. I didn't like it."

Loren nodded. "Are you angry?"

"I was. I am. Joanna is a girl. Tion didn't understand it either, and Myrielle just shut herself in her rooms again. Mother was running the Rock, but until I saw her scream at grandfather's coffin, I wouldn't have known how she felt."

"You felt alone."

"I didn't feel alone!"

"Lelia. I know what it feels like to be alone in Casterly Rock." She looked away from him. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm sorry that Joanna got taken away."

"Do you know when we'll see her again?"

"I don't," he said honestly, the words hurting. "But once I have dealt with the Baratheons, perhaps we can go and see her." If she wasn't back by then. It wouldn't be wise to tell Lelia of his plan to ask for her return.

"That would be nice," Lelia said.

He squatted down before her so they were on an eye level. "I will do what I can for Joanna, I promise. But now, you need to get ready, I think you've bathed quite long enough. After lunch you and your mother will be coming to the court."

Lelia's face lit up. "I can't wait, it's been years since I've seen the throne room, I don't really remember it."

"I'll be sure to show you all of it, you can see Tommen and Myrcella again, and Tyrion as well, they are looking forward to seeing you again. But I will also have to present you to the King and Queen-Regent."

She frowned. "Are they not looking forward to seeing me?"

"They are worse than how you remember them, I promise you that. Before them there will be no levity. You must be the embodiment of grace, dignity and courtesy, am I clear?"

She nodded. "Yes father."

"Good. I only tell you that for your own safety," he kissed her brow before getting to his feet. "Now I must got to court early, I have work to do. But don't let me forget that I owe you a glovefull of gold."

"I would never let you forget your debts, father!" She grinned back at him.