Chapter 53
On the morning of the battle, Margary Tyrell walked into the tent of her King and Lord Husband and screamed at the sight she saw, for there lay her King and her brother, naked as the day they were born, with nothing but sheets to cover them as they lay there with wine strewn across the floor, and the smell of death thick in the air.
And so, the war of succession ended not in battle, but with poison and suicide. With their King dead, the armies of the Reach and the Stormlands were quick to lay down their arms, and hence the rebellion came to an end.
But the wars—they were just beginning.
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The victorious armies made their way to Riverrun, to their Queen. The battle would be entered into history as the Battle of the Three Kingdoms, and as the armies entered the castle of Riverrun, they were led by none other than Cregan Stark. The young wolf had distinguished himself greatly during the war, as he fought to secure the claim of his betrothed.
And as the castle gates opened, the young Queen was the first to rush out and of the three people leading the armies, including her own grandsire and uncle, she leaped towards the young Lord in the middle, and hugged him tight as the armies of the Five Kingdoms bent their knee behind her.
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TYWIN LANNISTER
The Rebellion had ended without much bloodshed, apart from the two major claimants. Renly's army was impressive in its numbers only, for it lacked seasoned warriors and was made up of overconfident and zealous Summer Knights who wet their trousers at the first sight of blood.
Even Renly Baratheon himself, for all his resemblance to a young Robert, lacked his brother's might and mind for war, and was but a shallow image of the Demon of the Trident. And given that he had been found dead, naked, alongside Loras Tyrell, it gave credence to the rumors about his preferences.
But the war was won and now it was time for him to win the peace. The Targaryens had ruled over the Seven Kingdoms because of legacy and fear, but the era of the Targaryens was over.
They were in a new era now, one unlike any they had seen before. Never had a Queen sat on the Iron Throne; the realm and its lords had an aversion to female monarchs ever since the times of Rhaena and Rhaenyra Targaryen.
But none of Robert's children, apart from Myrcella, had survived, and already he was hearing murmurs about lords and ladies plotting in support of the Exiled Prince, or Robert's various bastards.
And this was why, he had called to meet several people as soon as he had arrived at Riverrun. He did not plan to stay for long, but while he was here he wanted to get a measure of his eldest son, and their future King and Queen.
"My lord is here," the servant whispered, and Tywin nodded.
"Send him in," he had been offered a solar to use as his own, though Tywin preferred to stay in his tent just at the outskirts of the castle, so that he may do as he may please.
Jamie walked in through the opening, clad in that ridiculous white armor of his. And the sight of it still made his blood boil as he was reminded of Aerys and all his overtures, yet Aerys was dead, and he would follow him soon.
"You called for me, father," his son lacked his usual smugness, and there were hints of bruises on his cheeks and eyes. He had a heart that he had acted quite foolishly when he had heard of his sister's demise, trying to fling himself off the walls.
"Yes, I did," he answered as he cut away the skin of the deer he had hunted in the morning, stopping just to give his eldest a small glance.
"It was foolish of you to try to jump from that wall," he admonished him, and he was old enough to know better as he looked down in shame.
"Yes, I have been told that already," but that was gone, as he cut through the bones and separated the rib cage to reveal the internal guts and other organs.
"Do you have any idea what would have happened had you succeeded in your dumb attempt at jumping over the wall?" he asked.
"Yes," he answered, lying to him as Tywin scoffed and finally turned to face him, his hands wet with blood and melted fat from the animals he was cutting.
"No. You did not," and he saw something flash in those eyes, anger, rage.
"I had just heard about Cersei's death," he defended himself, that fool.
"And your plan was to what? Follow her into the grave," and Tywin had been much saddened about her daughter's though he was also angry at the fact that she had died a meaningless death.
Had she listened for once in her life to the guards and her councillors and stayed back in that cellar, she would still have been alive. Yet, she had always been foolish and prideful.
And that very pride had cost her life.
"You could have unravelled everything that I have built. Everything," he wanted to scream at him so that he might understand, but Jamie had always enjoyed mocking him, and even now, as he mocked him with that white cloak of his.
But this was it.
"How?" he questioned in a mocking tone as Tywin thrust the knife into the wooden table, as he leaned forward.
"Because you are my heir, you fool," he said, looking into those eyes that remained defiant to this day.
"Tyrion is your heir. I am a Kingsguard, and as a Kingsguar..." and he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"It is time to end this farce," he finished, for he was not getting any younger, and it was time for Jamie to return and take his place as heir.
"A Kingsguard's vows are for life," he replied, testing his patience, but Tywin had dealt with Aerys the Mad, so Jamie's attempts to anger him were quite mundane and futile in comparison to the Mad King.
"And the Kingsguards are supposed to protect their Kings," he made a taunt of his own, as he pulled out the chair and sat down. Jamie's expression dulled in an instant, and he saw him grip his blade tightly as he tried to control himself.
"Your actions, or in this case inaction, has led to the death of two Kings," Tywin continued, looking him in the eye.
"You would be lucky to keep your head once you reach the capital," and the masses there blamed him for the fire that had burnt down the Sept, and would not hesitate to take his head.
"What do you mean?" his son asked, oblivious as always to the politics and consequences of his actions.
"The Wisdom, Stark interrogated him about the stashes of wildfire, and he says that you knew about them, and he saw the realization settle down as his son's face paled.
"I.." and he was lost for words, for the first time in his life, having no smart retort to that.
"The masses and the lords blame you for the burning of the Sept. You would be lucky to keep your head, let alone that damned white cloak of yours," and that was perhaps an exaggeration, but it was obvious that the massed held no love for him now.
And all it takes to kill a man is one stray arrow, one violent mob. Tywin himself could have some of his people bring forth a plea to the council, forcing Eddard Stark's hand, but that was his last resort.
"Eddard Stark would never let that happen," and Tywin shook his head in disbelief.
"Eddard Stark holds no love for you. In his mind, you are responsible for the death of his King and oldest friend," he was a man of duty and honor.
"He would not hesitate for a second to cut off your head," Tywin finished, and the realization seemed to have settled now.
"You are lucky that you are no simple baseborn knight, but a Lannister. And that name still means something," despite the various attempts of his children to destroy it all.
"I will not leave Myrcella," Jamie argued, his chest heaving, as he walked forward.
"I will not abandon her," and Tywin cared for his granddaughter as much as Jamie, but she was the Queen now.
"Myrcella will have hundreds of other men to guard her. Even that betrothed of hers seems capable enough," and the boy had slain Stannis in battle, which was no small feat for someone his age, and with his disability.
"You plan to wed her to that barbarian," Jamie questioned, and Tywin raised a brow.
"Cersei was against the match, she wanted to dissolve it," and he remembered his daughter's little rant.
"And she was stupid for that," Tywin lashed out, and he cared little for the Starks, but even he was not blind to their necessity at this moment. The realm was divided, and for all his faults, Eddard Stark was a man held in high esteem, and the man brought with him not only the North but Riverrun, Vale, and could bring even more Kingdoms given that he had six unwed children to forge alliances.
The Lannisters, on the other hand, had been thinned out, and it was why this match between Myrcella and that Stark boy was a necessity. It was good fortune that the boy seemed to have a sensible head on his shoulders, unlike his own children.
Despite his disability, which his daughter and the masses had obviously exaggerated, he was brave and seemed to have an astute mind for politics and war. And though it mattered little, the two of them seemed to care for each other, which would help bring stability to the realm.
"Robert won the throne, but it was his marriage with your sister, along with his relationship with Jon Arryn and the Starks, that held the realm together," Tywin educated his eldest.
"If Myrcella is to rule, she would need an alliance of her own, and the Starks bring with themselves three Kingdoms," he finished.
"This match is perhaps the only good thing done by Robert, who let a traitor into his council and nearly beggared the realm," and he should have realised that someone was stealing from the Crown, or at least Cersei should have realised that.
But she had occupied herself with her own little games, and that copper counter had nearly bankrupted the entire realm.
"He is a cripple," Jamie challenged, trying to sway his mind.
"And Aerys was mad, Maegor Cruel, Baelor a celibate, Aegon the fourth was stupid," Tywin counted just from the top of his head.
"The boy seems more capable than these lot, so he will do just fine," though he would need a guiding Hand, and if the reports from the capital were to be believed, Eddard Stark would soon be departing for his own lands, having grown rather tired of the cut-throat politics of Kingslanding.
"I will not let you wed Myrcella to that boy. I will not let you discredit Cersei's last wish..."
"Let me," Tywin's patience had now run out.
"Who are you to let me do anything?" he was furious now as he lashed out, his voice thundering in the tent.
"You will give up being a glorified guard and return to your rightful position as heir! And you shall do so without any protest at all!" Tywin finished, leaving no room for argument, and Jamie's lips thinned as he refused to back down.
"I am a Kingsguard, you cannot make me do anything," and that was his mistake.
"Can't I...."
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And as he showed Jamie that he could in fact make him do anything, he waited in his tent for his other visitors, yet despite several hours passing over, neither of them came, much to his surprise.
In the end, he was forced to send out another servant asking them to come and see him, yet he found himself both irritated and surprised as the servant came back with a missive.
Tywin seemed taken aback at first, but as he unfurled it, he found himself raising a brow as he read its contents, and found Tyrion's description of the Stark boy rather apt.
He had asked him about the boy when Robert had first proposed the match, just to ascertain the truth from the lies and the rumors being fed to him by his daughter. The answer, though, had come after the war had begun, and had been rather detailed, mentioning all of the boy's habits and peculiarities.
Myrcella was his granddaughter and the future Queen, and no matter how advantageous the match may be, a mad King consort would invite only chaos and instability.
But Tyrion held nothing but praise for the boy, and he could see why. They were not wed yet, though Eddard Stark had agreed that an urgent wedding was the need of the hour, and the preparations were already underway at the capital for them to be wed. And yet the boy was already coming forward to protect the Queen and himself, refusing to play his little games.
The war may be over, but stability would only come when the succession had been stabilised and the two of them were wed, and had a child to carry their lineage. Thankfully, Myrcella had bled a few moons ago and was a woman grown, so they could wed them as soon as the preparations were complete.
He had not outright insulted him, but had politely mentioned how the tent was unsafe and unsuitable for a meeting, having wrestled away a solar from the Tully's so that he could meet them in private with no fear.
"Tyrion was right, this one has fangs," he mentioned as he folded the missive, thinking just what he should do next.
"Trossard," he called out for his servant, and the servant rushed inside the room.
"Bring me a few maids," he said, standing from his chair, as he busied himself in the butchering once more.
"I need them to prepare one of my finer suits...."
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And just as the North and the Westerlands were celebrating their victory, Ironborn reavers struck at night and attacked their shores, killing dozens of men as they began to loot and rape, plunging the realm into another war.
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It's all fun and games until Tywin Lannister steps in!