Tyrion Lannister (299 A.C. Fifth Moon)
Loren's Solar
Tyrion's legs ached as he sat down beside his brother. He had heard quite a lot; apparently his brother had usurped the position of regent from their sister, taken the lady Sansa into his care, and public taking the power of Joffery away.
"Quite the eventful day, I have heard?" Tyrion asked as the servants brought in the meal.
Loren snorted. "Eventful? I call it wiping the floor clean of filth. How Cersei let her control slip the day Joffrey became King, I do not know. Then again, she always thought she was smarter than she is."
"Still, I heard you put Joffrey in his place?" he asked.
"Had to be done. Authority without standing by it does not hold weight. If I had walked off after the Kingsguard refused, I would have been seen as weak. I read as well, Tyrion. Control the Kingsguard and control the King. We are lucky, or unlucky I suppose, that Joffrey isn't like King Jaehaerys. I doubt the Kingsguard would have backed down if Joffrey had been like him." Loren commented.
"Indeed, and you took Sansa under your protection as well. So are you marrying the girl?" he asked.
"I am. I have spoken with her enough to know she can still learn, and will be an asset to me and the West. She even agreed as well," Loren replied. Hmm the girl was quite smart enough to know she likely can never go home again. Perhaps if Loren ever would dare to visted the North then maybe.
"Hmm, good. As much as I know you wish for Joanna to inherit, I doubt it would last. I can't really remember the last Lady of the Rock, or Queen. I suppose the last woman who truly held power was after the Dance, and she was not even a Lannister by brith but regent for her son." He took a sip of wine.
"A son to inherit would bring better stability. Also, if all the Stark men died, a second son of yours might inherit the North, or at least Winterfell." Loren sighed at those words.
"I know, and I want to start looking for a good match for Joanna. Perhaps I could make her the Lady of Castamere, and then perhaps marry her to one of Uncle Kevan's sons, or perhaps Tyrek?" Loren noted as he glanced at the lad who walked in with their wine.
Tyrion smiled at their cousin, a boy of ten, who was a perfect squire along with their other cousin.
"Mm, perhaps it could be done," Tyrion noted.
"As for Lysanne, she will need to marry within the West. As I'm part Hightower, and our mother was father's cousin, the West will be slighted if that were to happen again. Or perhaps Joanna could find a fine second son of one of the western houses. I have sent word to Aunt Genna to start looking for both girls.
Although Alicent's match will be the biggest challenge. Somehow we must shape that boy you met in the Eyrie into a worthy husband, or at least one who would let Alicent run the show behind his back. There have been plenty of examples of lords of the council doing so through the years. Even now it well know to the realm Ollenna Tyrell is a driving force in Highgraden." Loren noted.
Tyrion snorted at that as he thought back on that weakling of a boy. "You are still planning to marry them?"
"Of course. It's a good match and would allow Alicent to be leader of the Vale in all but name. She already is quite cunning, that one. More so than her older sister, who is more traditionally ladylike. Alicent not so much; she reads more than she sews," Loren said with a proud smile.
Tyrion smiled. His little nieces were also a light in his life. "Good girls, all of them."
"I know, and I wish Lysenne could see them now," Loren noted wistfully.
"She knows. She is proud of them all," Tyrion added.
Loren smiled and began to cut the pig in front of them. He cut off a leg for Tyrion and put it on his plate. The pig was well roasted and had fine spices upon it. The rest of the meal was roasted potatoes and onion soup.
After the meal was done, Loren said, "Tyrek, choose some food for yourself, and afterward distribute the rest among the servants and guards." Tyrek nodded.
"Where is Tion this evening?" Tyrion asked.
"Oh, the lads switch duties every evening. One is off while the other is on," Loren noted, and Tyrion nodded.
Then Loren looked at him. "Tell me, did you order the chain to be made?"
"I did, although some armorers found the work beneath them. One of them even suggested making a piece of armor shaped like a demon." Loren frowned. "Good, but demon?"
Tyrion shrugged, though somewhere it bothered him. "Yes, I walked through the streets with Bronn, and we heard a man speaking of a bloody lion and a demon monkey corrupting the King. Perhaps that inspired him, or he thought half man running across the battlefield in Demon armour would look firgting."
"Hmm, smallfolk. You can't really reason with them. They care for three things, I've found," Loren began, holding up a closed fist.
He pulled out his first finger. "Food. If food is plentiful, they are mostly content."
Then his second finger. "No harsh and foolish taxes."
Then his third. "Leave their gods alone. They cling quite hard to them. Perhaps it keeps them hopeful."
"Hmm, a shame that currently two of those things we are not doing," Tyrion replied. Indeed, the spending Robert and Cersei had indulged in was excessive. Likely Littlefinger's embezzlement as well, both he and Loren had begun to suspect, especially after the confession of bribery they had been able to extract from Janos Slynt and his other corrupt guards. How could the crown be in this much debt after sixteen years under Robert? Sure, Robert and Cersei seemed to have spent gold recklessly. Yet six million? Especially after the treasury had been full following the rule of the Mad King, according to their father.
Sadly, the debt also caused an inability to buy food, and of course there was the blockade the Tyrells and Stannis had set up.
"True, but I will send a trusted steward, Declan Westwind, with Myrcella in two days. He will stay in Braavos and discuss loans with the Iron Bank in exchange for the royal jewels, while Myrcella will sail from there to Dorne. It will hopefully cause an influx of gold and be separate from the loans we already have with them. If we can repay the loans within two years, the royal jewels will be returned; otherwise, they will be payment. I wish we could send them sooner, but alas the King and Queen Mother did not want to part with them," Loren explained with a half-grumble.
It was one thing his brother had learned, and their sister and brother had not. Unlike them, Loren had rebuilt Castamere and managed his expenses, because the restoration of the lands and keep had not been cheap.
"Well, let's hope they agree," Tyrion muttered.
"Indeed, and hopefully in a moon or two, maybe three, we can expect Stannis's blockade to be run by sellsails, and food to be brought into the city. However, having the Redwyne fleet help would not be bad either," Loren noted.
"Indeed, food would relieve the city. Did you already receive word of Bennard?" he asked.
"Yes, Rosby has fallen in line and is sending men and food as we speak, about a thousand men. He marches through the Crownlands to rally the rest. When he returns, I do not know. Hopefully, in time for the battle to come," Loren muttered.
"Good, we need all the men we can get. Is there word yet about Lysa Arryn?"
"No, but I doubt it would be that quick," Loren answered before looking at him. "Speaking of men, are you ready to ride out to Bitterbridge?"
"I am, with a flag of truce and all. I ride out tomorrow after the council meeting," Tyrion noted with a smile.
"Good," Loren said as he poured them both another glass of wine.
Then, Loren's captain of his personal guard entered. "Ser Albert," Loren acknowledged.
"My lord, Ser Lancel Lannister is waiting outside," Ser Albert stated.
"Hmm, at this hour?" Loren looked at Tyrion and sighed. "Allow him entry. Lancel is, after all, our eldest cousin."
Ser Albert nodded and stepped back outside. Soon enough, Lancel stepped inside in fine gold and red clothing. He was tall, not heavily built, more spindly, though training with sword and lance had broadened him.
"Lord Hand," Lancel acknowledged, then looked toward Tyrion. "Master of Laws," he added reluctantly.
Tyrion shook his head. "Cousin, what can I do for you at this hour?" Loren questioned.
"The Queen Regent asks you to release Pycelle and return Sansa Stark to her custody." Tyrion chuckled. Three mistakes in one sentence. Damn Lancel. Then a thought settled inside him. Looking at the boy, he could almost see Jaime. Damn Cersei, you fool. Tyrion sighed and gave Loren a look.
"The Queen Regent?" Loren asked, looking at Lancel with his practiced Tywin Lannister stare.
"I only meant Queen Cersei wishes for Pycelle to be released, and Sansa Stark to return to her proper caretaker," Lancel quaked.
"Oh, is that all?" Loren asked. "Tell me, Lancel, I saw you standing there today in the throne room. Did you inform the hall of the news in the West?"
"I did. The Queen asked me to attend His Grace in that matter," the boy noted. And that was what Lancel still was: a boy of sixteen namedays and a knight made far too early, but helping Cersei kill Robert had fast-tracked that for him. He and Loren had pieced it together after they found out how Robert died.
"Hmm. You didn't step forward after the Kingsguard beat a helpless girl? Didn't argue for mercy? Joffrey is your great-cousin, after all."
"I'm vowed to obey the King," Lancel replied weakly.
"True, a knight's vows. Protecting the innocent. But as long as the King can do as he likes. Of course, Sansa might succumb to the abuses the King puts her through. Then our brother would pay the price, likely with his head on the block or a body part, as it seems they still think we have the younger one," Loren stated as he rose from his seat and walked toward his cousin. "But I'm sure the King would not be happy if he knew you were bedding his mother, as I swear I smell her favorite oil on you. It is her honor you have besmirched. I could easily send you to the Wall." Loren grabbed Lancel by the collar.
Tyrion chuckled as Lancel went pale. For a second, Tyrion believed the boy might faint. "My lord Hand, I…" Lancel stuttered.
"I what, cousin?"
"I only did what she commanded me to. I didn't have a choice," Lancel squeaked.
"Truly must be a horror for you," Loren stated as he let go of the lad, who went to the ground and begged.
"Your father, Lord Hand, commanded me to obey her in all things," Lancel stuttered.
Tyrion chuckled. "Cousin, did he also tell you to fuck her?"
"I only did what I was bid," Lancel stuttered, looking from Tyrion to Loren, who still held that expressionless face. How Loren managed that, he did not know.
"Oh, I'm sure you did," Tyrion added. "It was all quite the nightmare, my sister's legs opening themselves for you."
"Indeed, brother, I'm sure it was a nightmare," Loren noted. "Let's go to Joffrey. I took his plaything away today; I'm sure he would enjoy cutting off your balls before sending you to the Wall." Loren walked to the door.
"Mercy, my lords, cousins, please have mercy," Lancel pleaded as he threw himself at Loren's feet.
Loren smiled then, and Tyrion chuckled. "Lord Hand, they were the Queen's orders."
"I will leave the city and return to the Rock, or to the east. But do not make me a eunuch or send me to the Wall," Lancel begged.
"No," Loren noted coldly.
"My lord Hand?" Lancel asked, surprise on his face.
"My father told you to obey my sister. Obey her," Loren began, and Tyrion smiled. There they were: a spy close to Cersei. "Stay close to her side. Keep her trust. Pleasure her whenever she requires. No one need ever know."
"Now remember this very well, cousin. I am the Lord Regent right now, the Hand of the King, and heir to the Rock and House Lannister. So you had better keep faith with me, or the King might still find out about your indiscretions," Loren stated. Lancel gulped.
Then Loren helped him up. "Do you understand, cousin?"
Lancel nodded.
"Good. From now on, you will keep me informed of everything she does. My sister's recklessness is the reason we are in this mess."
"Good. Now go, cousin, and have a good night," Loren muttered, nodding toward the door.
"Pycelle and Sansa Stark?" Lancel dared to ask as he reached the door.
Loren sighed as he sat down. "She can have Pycelle if he is that important to her, but I will not have him on the council."
"You will release him?" Lancel asked, and Loren nodded.
"As for Lady Sansa, I think Cersei has a habit of losing important hostages. I shall take care of her stay in King's Landing for however long that might be. Inform her of that, will you, cousin."
"As you command," Lancel noted with a gulp as he quickly left the room.
Then they both laughed. "Oh, poor cousin. I thought the lad was about to have a stroke," Tyrion laughed, and Loren smiled at him.
"Well, that was entertaining. Yet also productive, as we now have a nice spy close by."
"Would you truly have sent him to the Wall?" Tyrion asked.
Loren snorted. "Of course not. Lancel might be a fool, but he is kin, and I doubt Kevan or Aunt Dorna would forgive me. Then there is Cersei's reputation, already as low as it is. I might not take as much pride in the Lannister legacy as Father does, but I do have my pride. This scandal would only harm us further."
"Indeed. I might be a Lannister, but I also have pride," Tyrion added, raising his cup.
"To House Lannister," Loren added.
"To the Lannisters," Tyrion laughed as he took a big drink from his wine.
LorenLannister (299 A.C. Fifth Moon)
Kingslanding - Council Room
To be honest, it was quite the surprise hearing that Renly was dead. "Are you sure, Lord Varys?"
"My Lord Hand, quite a number of my little birds have confirmed it," Varys replied, his bald head shining in the morning light. "There are many rumors about his death. Either Lady Catelyn Stark killed, his own Kingsguard Lady Brienne Tarth, or even a shadow of Stannis."
Loren sighed. He wondered which force he would rather have faced: Renly's forces, likely leading to a bloody battle against Stannis, but under Renly's command. Renly was a decent knight, quite strong like Robert, but no battle commander. Also, his force marched slowly, which would have allowed them time to prepare, and the Mountain Clans now waited in the King's Wood to strike at them.
Or the force that was now likely moving toward them: a host of Stormlanders and Lords of the Narrow Sea under the command of Stannis Baratheon. A seasoned commander with quite the iron will.
"What of the Reach?" he asked, giving Tyrion a look.
"The forces of the Reach that joined Renly on his ride to Storm's End have left him and withdrawn back to Bitterbridge. With the remaining Reach forces, they were able to rally about forty thousand men strong, and five thousand horse," the eunuch replied.
"So how many men does Stannis now command?" he asked.
"Well, around seven thousand foot by all accounts left Bitterbridge about six days past, maybe more. Renly had about fifteen thousand men rallied around Storm's End to face Stannis, who had about five thousand men, maybe more, and a navy of about two hundred ships, with most of them now around Storm's End. It is one reason some ships have slipped through of late."
Loren rose and walked over to the map. "So as far as we know, Stannis's main force is currently at Storm's End. Has the castle yet yielded, or is it still held?"
"The current castellan still holds against Stannis. However, those reports were from days ago; the situation might have changed," Varys replied.
"Very well. That means Stannis will likely march with his force now toward King's Landing. It will likely take about a moon for him to march here, perhaps more if his march is delayed."
Loren looked toward his brother. "Your clansmen are in place?"
"They are. They will harry Stannis's forces, as they have done in the past with the Knights of the Vale," Tyrion stated.
"Speaking of the Vale, I received word from Lysa Arryn. She has accepted the proposal. Well done, Lord Baelish. Is it true she is underway here? She said so in her letter, that she would move right away."
To be honest, he had not expected Lysa to travel to King's Landing. Yet she was doing so. What kind of control did Lord Baelish have over Lysa Tully? He wondered, as by Tyrion's words the woman was quite mad and fiercely protective.
"Indeed she is. She wrote me as well. She should now be at Gulltown, and a fleet of fifteen ships should move toward Maidenpool. Considering the blockade that surrounds King's Landing, she thought it best not to risk her son. She will be coming with about two thousand five hundred men, mostly knights or highly trained men-at-arms," Lord Baelish noted smugly.
"Well, let us hope they arrive before the battle. Those men could make a difference in the defense of the city and would show their loyalty to the crown," Loren noted.
Looking at the map, if they could rally those Vale forces together with the arriving Rosby men, the defense might hold for a time against an assault. If he had learned one thing, it was that fewer defenders could hold a castle against greater numbers. Starvation worried him more. Still, King's Landing was two halves: the city and the castle itself, which held provisions he had ordered to be prepared. Those could keep them fed for at least a moon, perhaps four, maybe six if they rationed it.
"Let us hope so, my Lord Hand," Lord Baelish replied. This time Loren noted there was no mocking tone in Littlefinger's voice, because he knew Littlefinger was no fan of Stannis, and he doubted the two could work together. Still, Loren cared only that Littlefinger could bring in the Vale. After Lysa and Baelish arrived, he would deal with them, but only after the battle.
"Well, that is enough for now. Let us hope we also receive food imports from the east. Still, hopefully the Rosby supplies can bring some relief," he added.
"My lords, if there is nothing more to discuss, you are all dismissed," he stated. "Tyrion, stay for a moment."
After the rest of the councilors had left, he turned to his brother. "Everything ready for the ride out to Bitterbridge?"
"Yes, the proposal is ready for them. Anything else you wish?" Tyrion asked.
"Indeed. That they rally their horse and, at the right opportunity when Stannis attacks, fall upon his rear. I will hold the city, but I need something to break Stannis. Your chain will block them for a while and buy us time. Yet if Stannis storms the towers, they can only hold for so long."
"Indeed. Without the ships, they will either have to make rafts or make for the nearby crossing," Tyrion noted.
"True."
"Heard any word from Lancel yet?" Tyrion asked.
"No, but he requested to meet with me. I will see him after I see you off."
"Tyrion, after the negotiations, it does not matter if the Tyrells do not agree. Ride to Father and tell him of the plan," he added with a frown. "We could perhaps hold against Stannis, but for how long I do not know. Or if by luck we kill the man, we might see victory."
"I shall. Father listens to me on occasion, but you he seems to trust when it comes to military matters. I do not like to speak ill of Jaime, but if you had been our other hostage, we might not be in this mess currently. Our eldest brother has always been reckless, and perhaps too arrogant. Prowess with a sword brings you only so far," Tyrion replied, patting his hand.
"Thank you, brother. Now make your final preparations, and I will see you at the Gate of the Mother," he said as he gave his brother a hug.
Gate of the Mother
Loren stood beside Valarr, the captain of the guard of the Lannister forces sent by his father. He knew Valarr from the long line of knights that had served his family. Loren had his own captain of the guard, Ser Albert. He had come up through the ranks and fought beside Loren during the Greyjoy Rebellion, as had Bennard. Bennard was his right hand, his most trusted companion, and Ser Albert was the one who led and trained his men.
"Tell me something, Ser Valarr. Why did you choose to come here instead of staying at the Rock and waiting until you could inherit the captaincy from your father?" he asked.
"I wished to make my own name. The knights of Steel Claw have been captains of the Lannisters for centuries. I could have inherited the post, yet I could become the first captain of the guard of the Lannisters in King's Landing. Captain of the guard to the Queen and the royal family. Quite the honor," Ser Valarr noted.
Loren smiled; he understood. Up until the point that Jaime joined the Kingsguard, Loren had only been Lord of Castamere and had learned to rebuild those lands. After he was made the heir, he shifted his focus from Castamere to the Rock.
"I can see the draw of making a name for yourself. I was for a long time in the shadow of the Golden Lion," he noted. It was the more flattering name Jaime bore before he was given the name Kingslayer.
"Indeed, the Golden Lion, one of the youngest knights of the Kingsguard. I was there during the tourney. I was still a squire then," Ser Valarr noted.
"I was not there. Together with Tyrion, I was still at the Rock. Nine namedays, I think I was. I heard the stories, but I would not have minded seeing that famous tourney that changed all our lives," he noted as he saw Tyrion ride toward him, together with Ser Preston Greenfield of the Kingsguard, the sellsword Bronn, and ten mounted riders.
"Brother, do not look so worried," Tyrion noted. "All that roses can do is prick."
Loren laughed. "Ride hard, brother, and may we meet again."
Tyrion nodded. "We will."
Loren walked over to his brother's horse and shook his hand. "Love you, brother," he said quietly.
Tyrion's mismatched eyes wavered for a bit. "I… you," Tyrion squeezed his arm a little tighter.
After he released him and his brother rode through the gate, Loren waited until the column disappeared upon the horizon before returning to his solar.
Loren's Solar
Once more Lancel entered his room. The pride the boy had felt earlier was gone, good. Being prideful without the skill leads only to one's death. A knight is a title, yet without heart, will, and skill it is only a word.
"Lancel, please sit," he gestured as he picked up two cups and poured them both watered-down beewine. "Ever drunk this vintage?"
"Perhaps, my lord," Lancel noted as he looked at the bottle.
"No. Beewine is something Cersei or Robert would drink. Both of them like the burn."
He watched as his cousin drank the cup. "It is sweet," Lancel said as he licked his lips.
"Now, Lancel, tell me. Did you find something out? You wished to meet me after today."
"She has commissioned wildfire. After I left her last night, she spoke with a pyromancer," Lancel replied. Burn them all, burn them all echoed in his head, Jaime's words of what the Mad King had planned to do.
"You would not lie to me, would you, cousin?" Loren asked with a smirk.
"I swear upon my life," Lancel replied quickly.
Loren smiled. "Mmm, good. You are my cousin, so I value it." Loren saw it then, that little sliver of pride in Lancel's eyes. These small words, he had noticed over the years, inspired loyalty.
His father, for all his understanding of power, did not understand loyalty. Loyalty was not demanded; it was earned by hard work, rewarding good behavior, and occasionally a kind word. Loren also knew what Lancel was: a boy of seventeen in a world he was not ready for, corrupted by what his mind reluctantly admitted was a beautiful woman. Even thinking of his sister like that made him sick. He loved Jaime, but he could never understand that decision. Yet for Lancel, it was also time to become a man. Now was the time for war.
"Thank you," Lancel added quietly. "As for the wildfire, Cersei plans to throw it at the incoming men and ships of Stannis."
Great, Loren thought. Untrained men throwing pots of wildfire, a substance notorious for being unstable. He shuddered at the thought.
"Well, thank you, cousin. I shall take care of it," he added, before looking at him again. "Tell me something, Lancel. Did you have much training under King Robert?"
Lancel's cheeks blushed. "No, but I was trained on occasion by the master of arms, though not much, as I attended the King. So I have not trained as much as I would have liked."
"Well, we would not wish for a knight of House Lannister to be subpar, now would we? I spar most mornings before I attend my council duties. Join me, and we will see if we can improve your skill," Loren noted.
Lancel looked at him in surprise. "I would like that, my lord. It would be an honor to learn from a sword like you."
"Good," Loren noted, and poured them both another cup.
Notes : So Tyrion and Loren bond. Yet there is a difference between them, Tyrion, for all his wits will never be a charismatic commander. Loren is someone who, from a young age, became a lord of Castemere and also married young. Had to learn to lead, and he didn't start learn it from Tywin, although his father did later on. He mixes really; he knows how to instill fear, yet also how to earn loyalty.
Next up, Loren arrives back home and meets his girls again.