Lysa
My whore of a fucking sister killed my poor Petyr.
Lysa had wept for her perfect lover when news reached her from Kings Landing. Cat was jealous of them. Yes, so jealous of our love. It's why she fled to win him over. She couldn't stand the thought of her being happy, so she ruined it. My poor Petyr must have stayed true to her after all. It's why he died. She wanted him, too. The Seven must curse her for not staying true to her Florian. When she had learned the news, she tore her hair with a knife. I'm just as beautiful as Cat. None of her family could see it. Save her hair looked radiant, cut masterfully. Even if Edmure looked at her like she was some ugly duckling.
But Edmure was such a simpleton. What did he know?
She vowed to rip out Cats dark heart and squish it until the black ooze fell through her fingers to the dirty ground. Once she considered killing father, but his time was short and it seemed rather painful, so she spared him to choose a better target.
Though she allowed her emotions to cloud her. Her love was too strong and too easily seen, and soon they shoved that dreadful liquid down her throat. She slept and drank. I have to be clever, so brilliant. She cried out for her soft-hearted brother. "Edmure." She said. "Edmure, please stop. I'm better! I'm better!" Time passed and eventually he came and her tears won her freedom again. He was upset about the letter and claimed she had used him. Lysa wept and claimed she didn't understand what was happening. "I don't remember writing the letter. I don't remember. Please Edmure, you must believe me." He was very hesitant to believe her, so she played the submissive daughter and sister. Time was her ally, along with her spineless fop of a brother. She wore him down and secured information and her freedom. The shackles were removed, and she drank the sweet liquid no more. She discovered important things. Her other son had married the Lannister Whore's daughter, and they suited each other.
"Isn't that wonderful?" Edmure had asked her.
"I can't wait to meet my goodaughter." She chimed.
Cats boy was marching towards Riverrun with a host of Northman. It was divine intervention delivering her the perfect gift to secure her revenge. Cat loves her children. I'll take away her eldest.
A son for a lover. May you choke on your tears, dear sister.
She prepared diligently and did everything Edmure told her to do. She let the servants dress her and cut her hair. Lysa dined with her brother and stood watch over their father. It took every ounce of self-control not to strangle his flimsy throat between her fingers. A son for a lover. Not a father. She kissed him on the brow and prayed at the sept twice a day. And she even stitched him a trout for his campaign in the West.
How clever am I!
She swiped a steak knife from the dinner table and hid it in her quarters. It was easy to hide it underneath her long, flowing sleeves. When Cats boy arrived the first day, she feigned illness because she knew if she saw him she would lose control and attack him and she needed to kill him. It couldn't be a failure. How brilliant am I! Sweet, sweet Petyr saw her brilliant mind. Lysa was no fool. They would kill her for it, but it would be sweet to kiss Petyr with the bloody lips of their enemies. Lysa's heart pounded in her chest and her hands were sweaty.
Maybe she should try to live for Sweet Robins sake?
But Jon Arryns son had severed that tie as long as he lived. She would never see her boy again.
Lysa had only one choice.
Robb Stark dies today.
She waited until he went to the godswood. Lysa almost dropped her knife when she saw him for the first time. He looked just like Jon Arryn's son: broad shoulders with a sturdy chest, auburn hair and light blue eyes. Though his nose was all Cats and his hair was curlier. He also seemed more at ease, surrounded by his companions. A few of his fellow northern savages joined him in the godswood. Even a tall woman with a bear for a sigil. Another had a white sun on their surcoat. A hundred could be with him and it would not save him. A man with a lazy smile plastered to his face annoyed the gathered assembly. Robb Stark turned around with a weary expression, like some suspicious wolf. "Aunt Lysa?" He said. "Why are you here? These are not your gods." They were close enough to touch. One swift motion, and she would have it buried in his throat. Jasper Arryn would still live if I kill him… And until she gazed at him, she didn't realize how much she still wanted to kill him. Though knowing Cats heart would shatter as hers shattered appealed to her as well. Wait, this was Jasper, wasn't it? She closed her eyes and saw it. Yes, yes, it's Jasper. Why would she ever have confused the two? He thought himself so clever. "You kept my son from me, Jasper! The one Petyr gave me. Did you think I would forgive you? I wished Petyr handled you as I wished. I loved him, you know! Not your father!"
"Uhhh," Jasper said. "I'm not Cousin Jasper Aunt Lysa."
He mocked her with his lies.
"This is hilarious! Do tell us more, my lady?" The one with a lazy smile said, as if she couldn't hear the mockery behind his voice.
A portly man with whiskers claimed she looked unwell and offered to take her back to the castle. More liquid down my throat.
The only liquid they would see would be Jasper's blood on the ground.
Before she could end him, something tackled her to the grassy floor. Its breath was foul as yellow eyes and sharp teeth. It was a furry monster. "Get this beast off me! Get it off me!"
"Grey Wind!" Jasper commanded, but it ignored him.
Its eyes bore into her own.
She shuddered.
"Knife!" the man with a lazy smile shouted. Lysa realized it must have flown onto the ground. No, no, no, this was unfair. "She was going to kill you, Robb!" He declared. Suddenly, a mosh pit of hands wrestled her upright as she struggled. Others had drawn swords, maces, and axes.
"Your command Lord Robb?" The woman asked, pressing the mace to her chin.
"Is this true, Aunt Lysa?" Jasper asked, bewildered.
Lysa screamed and clawed, but the hands were too strong. "Why can't you die! I should have killed you in my womb!"
"Take her into custody." He commanded. "She is still my aunt, restrain her gently. We shall speak with the Lord of Riverrun over her fate."
It was fathers solar they brought her too. Though it was not father sitting behind the desk, but her brother. Edmure's cheeks were red with embarrassment and he rubbed his temples. "I'm so sorry, nephew!" He said. "She has these bouts of madness. I thought she was better." Jasper had vanished and Cats boy stood in his place. Where were they hiding him? Could he not face her? Once again, he ruined everything!
"My mother received a letter from her detailing her crimes." Robb said. "She's clearly guilty."
"Where are you hiding him!? Where is Jasper?"
Edmure pointed. "See what I mean? My sister is deeply unwell. She thinks you're her son."
"Where did my son go?" She wailed.
"I doubt she could actually harm you."
Robb Stark didn't look swayed. "I want justice, uncle, and if we had time for a trial, I would seek one. But we have a war to win."
"I understand, nephew." Her brother caved instantly. "Place my sister under guard and summon Maester Vymann. My sister requires the milk of the poppy." She kicked and clawed as the dreaded liquid went down her throat and she saw nothing.
Jasper
Everything felt right as he swung his sword, trying to win. A small smile tugged at his lips at the contest. I'm going to beat you, old man. Steel kissed steel, and he felt as strong as the warrior himself. Young eyes watched the bout, including golden eyes of Dawn. Some Arryn guardsman as well, with the flying falcon banners flapping in the wind. One day he may finally beat his Blackfish, but it wouldn't be this day as the dull blade pierced his guard, and the point rested against his throat. "I think I may be sweating." His grand uncle said dryly.
"You must be getting older."
"Still young enough to beat you."
Jasper smiled and yielded. "Now," He said with great cheer. "What did I do wrong?" He pointed towards Bran as he poised his question. It was good that they learned from seeing his mistakes. It'll make them better knights.
"You over swung and created a small opening." Bran replied.
It was a fair answer. He nodded along. "And how many knights would have seized on a small opening?"
"A skilled one." Prince Tommen piped up.
"Or a lucky one." Adrian japed.
The boys laughed, but Jasper didn't smile and maintained a serious look. "Either by skill or luck. Any man can beat you if you give him the chance." His voice turned hard. "Give no one the chance. When you fight a man for real, it's you or them. There is no honor in death. You fight to win. Understood?"
Prince Tommen bobbed his head sadly while the rest of his wards nodded with more enthusiasm
"How do we win?"
"Practice." It was more a mumble than a declaration.
Jasper encouraged them with a wave of hand and the raising of his brow. "Practice!" They yelled.
He nodded with approval and sent them on their laps for the day. They grumbled, but did as bid as Jasper chuckled. "You would have me run laps as well?" Dawn chased after them with the vigor of a Master of Arms nipping at their heels, encouraging them to run faster.
"Stop it Dawn!"
"Quit it!"
Grand Uncle Brynden snorted. "Would if I could Jasper, but you are no longer my charge." And those were happy days, being a simple squire. Shining his armor caring for his horse, Storm. A beautiful black stallion. It was a sad day when they put her down. He wept into his pillow for it. It was such a noble beast and didn't deserve to die. Sword fights in the courtyard until he collapsed from exhaustion. He pushed himself to the breaking point. I wanted to make everyone proud. I didn't want to fail.
"I miss it." He admitted. "It was very simple." Being a lord was more complicated and required sound judgement, and he always doubted his choices. Though he still had to make them. By the Seven I have to get it right.
"When you were a squire, all you wanted was to be knighted." I wanted to be like you. Jasper admitted to himself though he would never say such emotional words. Grand Uncle Brynden knew, and he didn't need to say them.
"All squires want is to be knighted." Jasper said. "Then when you become a knight, you realize how good you had it." The day Ser Brynden knighted him was the happiest moment of his entire life, except for his wedding with Myrcella. He swore an oath to defend the weak like the Falcon Knight and Ser Brynden, and if he was only a knight it would have been perfect. But as a lord he swore another oath to safeguard the interests of the Vale and duty demanded he defeat his rivals in court and see House Arryn soared high. He was the sole defender of House Arryns legacy. The legacy of Jon Arryn. And Lord Stark could never dissuade him. That's what his father wished, and he had to secure their place in the sun. A son's duty lay with honoring his father's memory, no matter how he felt about the man.
"Lord Arryn." Lord Starks man had joined them. It was his captain of his guard, he thought. Tory was his name. Ser Jory Cassel. "Lord Stark requests your presence." The boys were still doing their laps and his grand uncle pledged to set them on their next task. Adrian still needed help with his horsemanship, though they had made progress.
"Well, lead on then Ser Jory."
Ser Jory escorted him to Lord Starks pavilion and opened the flap for him. Jasper feared another lecture disguised as a chat. They exchanged pleasantries as he took his seat. A map of the seven kingdoms lay before them. They were a week's march from the Deep Den. The Lannisters had completely withdrawn from the Reach and were being pressed on the south by the Reachmen. It pleased him the news of Lord Renly's capture. It seemed ending the union between Highgarden and Storms End could be accomplished. And then nothing could truly threaten our bloc of power. His objectives behind this conflict were being met, and it pleased him greatly. Why Lord Stark was so horrified by the conflict when it clearly benefited them was beyond him and they didn't even have to do anything, just let it play out.
Lord Stark was a queer man, with strange habits that left him scratching his head, trying to understand him.
He dined with even the lowest of his household, permitting them to join his table as if they were as important as his lords. Lords he could understand, they had to be placated and soothed to secure honor, but of servants? What honor could be secured from them? And his book on the behavior of lords and knights said that their must be firm distinctions between the social orders, but Lord Stark seemed to bend such rules. When he asked Bran about this, he confirmed he did it in Winterfell as well. Jasper saw in their eyes love, they loved their lord. None of his household gazed at him that way. What would that feel like? Did it matter?
Lordship demanded he be distant as father had written to him. It's not true. Jasper had realized he couldn't do it all alone. It was folly, not wisdom, though it was challenging for himself to change his habits, but shouldn't Lord Stark be as distant? Or did father wish to cripple me? Father must have hated me more than I thought.. Jasper wondered as it inspired a bitterness in his chest. He swallowed it and kept his polite expression plastered to his face. I have a duty to House Arryn and Prince Tommen to keep my emotions in check.
"My son Robb sent this from Riverrun." Lord Stark said solemnly.
"Have they set off for the Golden Tooth?" Jasper asked, before reading the parchment. By the end, his cheeks were hot with embarrassment and shame. Hundreds of miles away and his mother was still causing him problems. Uncle Edmure was supposed to keep her locked in her room. Why couldn't he fulfill such a simple task? How many letters did he write telling him not to trust her? His tongue grew heavy. Oh, cousin I'm so sorry. Gods I'm sorry. If she had attempted to kill the Heir of Winterfell, there was little he could do for her. "I'm sorry, my lord, for my mother's depraved actions, and she shall face justice for it. If it's proven true. I won't tolerate harm to my cousins." He promised with his lordly voice and he meant it. "But this proves little, my lord, over your other claims." He dismissed.
"Your mother confessed with her own voice in the presence of a dozen heirs of northern houses."
Yes, she claimed Baelish loved her and was Robert's father while praying for my death. Part of that was certainly true. The rest were mad ramblings of a sick woman.
"Any word of my mother you can't believe she is unwell. Even by your own sons words. She thought I was in Riverrun."
Lord Stark didn't seem convinced. "It's a confession of her part and it makes sense, does it not?" Jasper didn't reply as Lord Stark continued. "To subvert the line of succession in the Vale. See her bastard on the Weirwood throne with the man she loved? It's a motive to kill Jon."
"Yet, she attempted to throw her precious son through the moondoor."
It gave Lord Stark pause as he recalled that fact.
"My brother is not a bastard." Jasper said. "He is the son of Jon Arryn."
"Is he?"
Jasper laughed. "You slander my family with these baseless allegations." He shook his head in disbelief at the conversation. Robert was his brother. His trueborn brother and he would not fall prey to these foul lies. He would protect him as he did in the High Hall of the Eyrie. Are you my enemy, my lord? Why are you so hellbent on forcing this fight? Robert was no bastard and he would accept nothing else.
Lord Stark paused. "I only seek the truth."
"The truth?" Jasper scoffed. "Is that what you call this witchhunt?"
"The truth won't change, nephew, and we must have justice for your father."
"Even when it is proven, false men will whisper it true! It'll destroy his legacy!" The Arryn name would be driven through the muck.
Lord Stark swore. "Jon did not care off legacy. How many times must I say it to get it through your thick skull?"
It often came back to this point and he couldn't reconcile the letters he received from his father and the man Lord Stark claimed his father to be. He sighed. "I know you mean well, my lord, but every letter I received says otherwise. I'm honor bound to follow his wishes." Sons must obey their fathers and he had only disobeyed him once for the good of the Vale. If he did as Lord Stark said, it would be a fundamental betrayal and he would sooner die that commit such a crime.
Lord Stark rubbed his chin in deep thought. "Maybe Jon changed from the man I knew. He taught me to be a man of principles. These principles guide a lord's actions." He scoffed. "Not concern over ones legacy."
"Your not worried about your legacy, Lord Stark?" His question seemed to confuse him as he leaned back, shaking his head.
"Nobility is defined by ones self and our actions. Not the perceptions of others." Lord Stark said. "If you do well, others will notice." And Jasper knew it was no lie on his part. Lord Stark truly lived what he preached a man without a vice. The nobility in his voice made him wish to weep. It's why his household loves him. If father had sent him to ward in Winterfell, he would have loved the man, but now he couldn't help but see him as a potential threat in the dark. Political necessity kept them tied together as well as blood that wasn't so easily thrown away, but it was a flimsy shield for himself. He would destroy my family by pursuing justice. If Robert were a bastard, it would make Harry his heir, but he wasn't. Robert is no bastard.
Jasper darkened at the thought. "I reaffirm my vow. I shall speak with my mother at wars end, but I don't think her guilty, my lord. At least not of that." He admitted. "Do you wish to speak of the campaign, my lord? Or are we done here?"
"We are done lad." He sounded tired.
Jasper wished him a good day. He nodded towards Jory when he passed the tent flaps as a knight should.Later that night he dreamed that same dream in the Eyrie again. He woke up covered in sweat. This time, he killed his mother. Choked her flappy neck until it broke. Would that have been better? Nothing was more accursed than a kinslayer and the mere thought made him as pale as a ghost. It was very wrong. Yet, if mother had killed Cousin Robb, he would have regretted that his entire life. He didn't wish his kin any harm. The Legacy of House Arryn was not worth the death of his kin. Even if they didn't really see him as such. It's not worth it. Father may hate him for it from the heavens, but he had his line and mother had crossed it.
Oleena
"Shoo! You rat with wings!" Olenna swatted at the flying beast. Her grandson had recently imported a few into the darkened hole said it was more fitting to the legends. It was no legend she was familiar with. Some small folk legend that Willas had read in some book.
"Now, grandmother, I do think he likes you." Willas chimed, joining her with a wry smile on his face. He leaned on his cane. Some lines on his face from the strain of recent news. Renly's capture. Lord Starks charges of murder of a lord and breaking the kings peace. The increasing pace of Iron Born raids.
"Why are you here, Willas?"
"Same as you, I'd wager." He smiled. "hiding from my wroth mother."
She pressed the cool cloth to her bruised cheek. It had turned a nasty purple from where Alerie had made her displeasure known.
"You ordered the killing of Ser Kevan Lannister while my daughter was in the city!" Alerie seethed.
"Of course I did." She didn't deny it. "He killed Loras, so I killed him. Don't look so shocked, dear. We all know it was the Lannisters. It had their grubby paws all over it. It reeked of Tywin Lannister. So I was going to kill his brother and see his daughter destroyed for it."
Alerie was honestly a simple creature, and she thought little of her. Yet, her eyes turned hard, as if she was staring at old Lord Leyton and his stout jaw. "Listen, dear. This isn't your world. Frankly, it was a good plan, and it almost worked flawlessly." Ser Kevan died, and they have removed Queen Cersei from her office. If a few things had gone their way, House Tyrell could have been closer to the Iron Throne and the Lannisters destroyed with the backing of the Starks.
She slapped her.
Hard.
"I buried what remained of Loras. Slain by a brutal monster too evil to speak his name. I could barely bear that." Alerie said, on the verge of tears, her hands coiled into fists. Though she was too angry to cry."Then Margaery, my beautiful girl, was maimed by cold steel from some Lannister butcher. Her cousins put to the sword in front of her. My boy Garlan is fighting in this dreadful war. Seven protect him. Mace, my dear husband, is broken by everything. All of this is the consequences of your ill thought out plot."
"Now dear-"
"Quiet!" she snapped. "You shall listen to me! Now Lord Stark knows the Regent of the Iron Throne appointed by King Robert-"
"He knows nothing." Olenna reminded. "Only it was of House Tyrell, or at least someone with access to our seal. It's salvageable. We just need a scapegoat. Maester Orlen should suit fine. Do you think I wouldn't have a backup plan?" Maester Orlen, poor man, had sired a boy in the whorehouses and he loved the whore and his child. They would see to their welfare in return for his confession of acting alone. Or something unpleasant would happen to them. He would make the right choice, of course.
Her daughter-in-law was only inches from her. "You better mother." Eyes narrowed. "Or I shall name you to protect my children. My children shall live even if I have to stab you in the back to do it."
Olenna rubbed her cheek. "I'm not hiding, my boy. Merely thinking."
"Yes, you have your thinking expression on." Willas replied. Though she doubted he believed it as he launched into a cheerful conversation about the progress of Lord Tarly and Garlan on both fronts, Crakehall and Silverhill respectively, were under siege. It had been a sole bright spot, forcing the Lannister out. Though she misliked the praise Tarly would receive for it. Lord Redwyne was engaged in a cat-and-mouse game with the Iron Fleet around the Shield Islands. Raiders still slipped through and plundered her shores. "We have spotted the Royal Fleet around the Arbor." Willas said.
"Lord Stannis, the future Lord Paramount of the Stormlands." Olenna said. "Maybe we should send him a flower basket?" Renly had lost all claim to Storms End by being captured so pathetically by Lord Tywin. They wasted her golden rose on such a frivolous man. No lord would wish to follow him and Lord Stark would seek to replace him with his more loyal older brother. The prancing stag, what a waste. Even if simple, Lord Stark hadn't realized it before, he soon would. Storms End should have gone to Stannis by all rights. The Florents would have gained in power with it and would have to be further isolated in the Reach.
"Naturally, all of our banners have been informed to offer no resistance to the Crown."
Olenna nodded. "To fight Lord Stark and lose would mean our damnation." House Tyrells historic position had always been weak with their claim over Highgarden and the Reach lesser than their banners. It already displeased them with their lackluster defense of the Reach and the Iron Throne ability to unmake them hung over their heads. If he named Tarly Lord of Highgarden, how many of their banners would follow the man? Or even a Hightower? She had carefully tied the Reach to House Tyrell in strategic marriages, but one defeat and that could all unravel. And fighting the rest of the Seven Kingdoms with a house divided was not a winning strategy.
"I'm calling Garlan back to Highgarden." Willas said. "We'll be needing him soon enough and he shall prove more useful with us than a castle that doesn't matter."
"Your mother-"
Willas waved away her worry. "I'll handle my mother. She'll know telling the truth would only cripple dear Garlan with indecision. He'll believe the story of Maester Orlen to be true when it comes from mother's lips." He sighed. "I love him, but I know the less he knows of what we do, the better. It would kill him to keep such a secret or to send an innocent man to the headsman." Of all her grandchildren, Garlan was the most noble following the codes of chivalry to the letter. Even for family, he couldn't send an innocent man to pay for their crimes. It was foolishly honorable, but it had its place in letting House Tyrell grow strong.
We'll grow strong yet.
The bat flew and perched on Willas shoulder and he stroked underneath its chin.
Jasper
He let out a loud whoop, and his granduncle raised his bushy brows at his strange behavior. Jasper wasn't done, not by half, as he practically was jumping with excitement. He didn't give a shit about being a lord for a moment. She's with child! Myrcella is with child! It made him giddy, imagining all the possibilities. It drove away the bitterness in chest for a moment. He still clutched the letter in his hand and slammed it into his grand uncles chest. "Read it!" Jasper grinned, thinking of horseback rides with his son. Teaching him how to hold a sword and reading him stories of the Falcon Knight. He even imagined a daughter as beautiful as her mother, whom he would protect from her suitors. She could be queen one day! The greatest queen in the history of the seven kingdoms beautiful and kind!
No matter what boy or girl his children would be loved. None of them would grow up lonely falcons…
It hit him suddenly worse than any blow ever received in the training yard. Jasper suddenly felt terrified of battle and fearful of being as distant as his own father. What do I know of being a father? His hands shook as he lowered himself into a chair. Grand Uncle Brynden poured them both drinks. "I think you need this grand nephew."
"I need the entire bottle." Jasper mumbled. "How did this happen?"
"Do I need to explain the process to you?"
Jasper's cheeks reddened. "Not that! It's just we only did it once. I did not think it would happen so quickly."
"Sometimes once is all you need, lad."
The bitter contents of the beer washed down his throat. "Any advice?" He laughed nervously.
Grand Uncle Brynden stroked his beard. "I'm the last person to ask."
Jasper nodded his head and drank some more. "But I think this is a happy time." His calloused fingers squeezed his shoulder in support. It steadied his nerves as he felt his limbs relax.
"I am happy. I'm just worried." He admitted. "They say birth is a woman's battlefield and I wish she didn't face such alone." He wanted to hold her hand as she brought their babe into the world and try to protect her. Instead of being with her, he was in this accursed tent half a realm away. Mothers pregnancies were always hard on her or so the maesters told him.
"I wish I never birthed you into this world! You stole the places of your brothers and sisters!" Her voice cut him down worse than valyrian steel.
It was true, Jasper knew. He was to blame. Myrcella would disagree, but she was too sweet for him.
If I could give my siblings life at the expense of my own, I would.
"The finest maesters surround her, with an entire household to care for her. She'll be fine." Jasper nodded in agreement. He was being very silly about it. "Just promise me you won't name a boy Brynden. It's a terrible name."
Jasper snorted. "I promise, but I can make no promises for Myrcella, and she does like the name." He winked. After a small passage of time, his Blackfish left for his tent, but he promised he would not speak of Myrcella's pregnancy with anyone. Jasper wished to keep it private for a little while enough he would have to suffer the hordes of bannerman offering their would say a few prayers that night as he drifted off to sleep, asking for wisdom and strength. He even prayed to the Mother and the Maiden asking them to help Myrcella during her trials.
Authors note: Well, this took longer than normal. If I'm being honest I'm still not happy with Jasper/Ned interaction. It still bothers me, and if I ever did a rewrite maybe I would change it. I would certainly change Davens POV. I think his was a bit of a mistake on my part. If there was one thing I would change it would be that. Supposedly, according to my rough sketchwork I follow we only have six chapters left in Act II A. Though one of those chapters is going to be massive and more like 2 chapters in length. Anyway, next up Brienee rescues Renly, Tywin has a massive going away party, Ned meets with the Head of House Lannister, and Tommen meets his Lannister kin. As always I enjoy the reviews/comments! Oh, and if someone wanted to write A Lannister song for capturing Renly message me about it cause I do want to write it, but my ability to write song prose is very poor I appreciate it greatly! If not then you'll just have to suffer my awful redention then!
Freedmoon: Well, I hoped you slept well when you read this! Once we are done Act II A we shall tansition and do Act II B and cover Robert, Jaime, Dany, Jon and Melisandre.
Guest: Well, Genna is a Lannister first in Tywins eyes, but yep she is getting a lot of power!
ATP: Yep, Tywin did a smart move here thats for sure. Don't see Tyrion as Master of Coin in the future.
Morningstar786:Well thank you! Here's the update don't know if you consider it soon though!