Chapter 124 - Heir and Heir.
Artos' mouth curved into a smile that was so obviously wrong, so deliberately insincere, that it could only be mockery.
"I wished to speak about your inheritance," Artos said. "And your will."
Tywin stared at him.
"My what."
"You heard me," Artos replied, tone almost cheerful. "You are an old man, Tywin. But not Old enough that you would have a hearing problem." He said in Sarcasm and deliberately poking him.
Tywin's jaw tightened.
"My age is not your concern."
"Aye, you are right but Your heir is," Artos said lightly. "Especially when your heir is not the man you want. Afterall I am the Hand of The King. I am sure you would agree after all you have been in similar position under the Mad King. I heard he used to work you to the bone like a ...."
Tywin's eyes narrowed in a way that would have made most men reconsider their words. Artos did not.
"Careful," Tywin said.
Artos tilted his head ignoring him and just goes on with his agenda. "We both know you do not want Tyrion inheriting Casterly Rock."
Silence.
The kind of silence that meant a blade had just been pushed against a very particular nerve.
Tywin did not answer, but his grip on the goblet tightened enough to make the metal creak.
Artos' false smile softened into something more genuine—sharp, interested, predatory.
"So," he said, "Have you thought about it"
Lord Tywin keeping a cold face " Why do you have an interest in it. But from what I know of you, you won't keep pursuing this if you didn't have something on your Mind. So tell me what the Lord Hand has for me " Lord Tywin asked in a serious tone.
Artos smirks " So the Mighty Tywin didn't want to give his tittle to his son because he is a Dwarf. You fear that he will bring shame to name Lannister, a weakness like you father " Artos said touching wounds that shouldn't be touched
Lord Tywin angry at that " Hold your Tongue boy, you can excuse yourself if you want to keep running that tongue"
Artos made no move to excuse himself" Oh I can move out but I was here to help you regarding that. You know help you removing Tyrion and help you having a new heir."
Tywin gets serious now , interested " What do you mean." He asked
"Oh interested now, Well I offer you an alternative. How about Tommen."
Tywin's eyes went flat. "Tommen is my grandson."
"Precisely," Artos said. "A pliable boy. A lion you can shape. A future Lord of Casterly Rock who does not drink himself into brothels and trouble. Tommen as your heir, you can shape him. You can make him into some who you think is perfect to inherit your legacy after we set Tyrion aside."
Tywin's anger did not vanish, but it shifted, sharpening into thought.
"And what," he said slowly, "do you intend to gain from such meddling?"
Artos stepped further into the room, hands folded behind his back.
"Gold, Of course. I am sure you wouldn't have a problem with that. Afterall you have too much of it to care" he said. "The Crown's debt is too large. Your House has granted a loan of 4 million Dragons. You wish for a smoother succession. I wish for a lesser debt for the crown. We can both have what we want."
Tywin watched him, calculation now burning clearly in his gaze.
"And why would I pay you to put my own Grandson as my own Heir. It's a waste . " Tywin said
Artos smiled coldly"Well, You would need to pay me so I won't go to Tyrion with the same offer. Afterall even You won't be able to decline his rights as your son and Heir especially with a Hand backing." He said smirking coldly.
"How much." Tywin asked straight
Artos did not hesitate.
"Two and a half million gold dragons, erased from the Crown's debt."
Tywin almost laughed; it would have been shocking if he had. Instead, he allowed himself a derisive breath.
"You are mad."
"Come on don't be so rude Lord Tywin. I would prefer Ambitious," Artos corrected gently. "Madness lacks the grace that I have in me " Artos speaking some bullshit mostly to piss off and irritate Tywin.
To be honest Artos is mostly here to ragebait Tywin while taking funds for Crown. It's really a good endeavour, entertaining enough for Artos.
"Two and a half million is fantasy," Tywin said. "One million is… generous."
Artos shook his head. "One million is a generous you say. I am not here for gestures, Is One Million a value worthy of your Legacy The Mighty Tywin. Comparing to that I am asking for basically nothing" he said making Tywin angry and frustrated.
Silence stretched. Tywin took a sip of wine, though it did nothing to soften his expression.
"You expect me," he said, "to cut my own heir away so that you may breathe easier?"
"I expect you," Artos said, "to do what you are already want to do, and gain something from it. We both know you will never permit Tyrion to rule Casterly Rock if you can prevent it. I am offering you a way to dress that choice as a legal choice."
Tywin considered him, anger and intellect narrowing together like the slit of a predator's eye.
"And what of Tyrion himself?"
Artos' tone went almost casual. "You will cut off his gold after this month. Reduce his indulgences. After that I will handle for you that part. But you need to convince the Queen about Tommen."
Tywin's lips thinned. "He will make trouble, after all he is a vengeful little creature"
"I will keep him busy," Artos said. "You want him out of your way. I will see that he is pointed somewhere useful—and far from Casterly Rock."
Tywin's expression shifted, just a fraction. "You would handle him."
"I will occupy him," Artos replied. "With tasks, with positions, with work. You want him to stop clawing at your walls. I can give him better ones to climb."
There was something almost like dark amusement behind his words. Tyrion was too clever to waste; Artos knew that. He had no intention of simply throwing him into a pit.
But promising Tywin that the imp would be busy and broke was useful leverage.
"And you will speak with the king," Tywin said.
"Yes," Artos said. "I will speak with Robert. I will present it as a deal in the realm's interest—a more stable West, a lighter Crown, fewer headaches for your beloved king. He will see the sense, even if he curses me while he does."
Tywin looked back toward the window, thinking of Casterly Rock's proud towers, of lions carved in stone. Then he looked at Artos again.
"Two and a half is impossible," he said. "One million is reality."
"Two and a half is what I want," Artos replied.
Tywin's mouth tightened.
Tywin was silent for a long time. The room felt smaller for it.
At last, he said, "Two million."
Artos did not immediately accept. He waited, letting the weight of the number settle in the room. Gold was not just coin here; it was power, leverage, breath.
Two million meant the Crown could stand a little straighter.
"Two million," Tywin repeated. "No more. Including your… efforts with Tyrion."
Artos gave a slow nod. "Two million it is then. Tommen would be named heir to Casterly Rock. You will be responsible for Tyrion's purse cut. I will be responsible for His time occupied elsewhere. You gain a future you can shape. I gain a Crown that does not choke in debt. See A valuable deal for you."
Tywin raised his goblet, though the gesture felt more like a dismissal than a toast.
Tywin studied him one last time.
"You truly enjoy this, making a fool and mockery of me" he said.
Artos smiled, not bothering to hide it.
Artos turned toward the door.
He left the solar with the same quiet steps he had entered, already fitting the new pieces into his larger design.
For a man who had once preferred the clean certainty of a blade, the new shape of his work was different.
He found, to his own surprise, that he enjoyed it.
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