Chapter 40-INTERLUDE
It was not much long ago when Tyrion had been run out of this very city like a common criminal, but now he rode through the streets of Kingslanding once more, and not a soul could force him to run again.
Well, his father could still do it, but he doubted that he would, given that their new King was his favorite nephew. No announcement had been made yet, and the city was celebrating the Lannister victory, but Tyrion knew that it would not be long until a change in the succession would be announced, and Joffrey would be replaced by Steffon.
Few would argue against it, given that they would be replacing the second coming of the Mad King himself with an accomplished war hero who had slain not one but two of the pretender Kings and turned the tides of the war singlehandedly.
"I never thought that I would be back here so soon," Bronn added from the side, and the sellsword and him had become fast friends over their shared fate and troubles.
"I can say the same....."
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TYWIN LANNISTER
There was a time not long ago when House Lannister was close to ruin. His father had failed him and their House, and turned them into a joke not just within the realm but in their own lands.
Their own vassals thought them weak and chose to take advantage of that, and Tywin had promised himself that he would save their House. That he would restore their House to its rightful position, within the realm.
That was to be his legacy, and he had thought it complete when he had married Cersei to Robert Baratheon, for the marriage meant that one day his own blood would sit on the Iron Throne.
There could be no greater honor or no greater revenge than that. Revenge against his father. Revenge against his old friend who had mocked him as a servant.
But all his plans and ambitions had nearly been brought to ruin in the blink of an eye. Robert's death was meant to be the cementation of his legacy, yet it had only shown his fallacies.
He had thought it all lost when word of Catelyn Stark's treachery had reached his ears, and the blame for it lay once more with his idiot grandson. Joffrey was meant to be the guarantor of his legacy, yet the boy had been the main cause of its ruin.
Renly's armies were circling the city, and an army stood in his way, and even though he could break through the blockade, Tywin was not certain if he had the numbers to beat Renly's armies.
But then Steffon had written to him from Duskendale, and the boy had somehow done the impossible and slain Stannis Baratheon himself, and won over the man's armies.
He had tried to warn him about Joffrey and his madness, but Tywin had thought it all as nothing more than folly of youth, but he was wrong. Cersei's eldest child was not just a cruel boy. No. He was a fool as well.
And the Iron Throne did not suffer fools—nor would it. Tywin would make certain of that.
In the end, the city walls had held out for long enough for their armies to enter the war, and while Renly and his men were prepared to face him, Steffon and his armies struck them from behind, as the boy slew the pretender himself in single combat and won them the war.
With Renly dead, the Reach was quick to bend the knee, and the Tyrells were now at his mercy, much like the Starks and the Tullys, who still remained holed up in the ruins of Harrenhall.
Still, the victory had come at a cost, and Renly's Rainbow Guard had struck back in vengeance. Steffon may have inherited Jaime's talent with the sword, but even he was unmatched against the combined prowess of Loras Tyrell and the woman from Tarth.
Still, he had managed to hold on, and the realm was better for it.
"It is a small wound," Pycelle whimpered in his pretend voice, and the old Maester may have his vices, but few could compare to him in his work.
"I shall give you a balm for it, but there is nothing to be concerned about," and the old man stepped back as he finished the examination of the small wound on Steffon's arm.
"Leave us," he ordered, and the aged man was quick to walk out, as Steffon met his gaze.
"It was stupid of you to leave for Essos," and it had been two days since the war had ended, but Tywin had little time for him as he worked to secure them their victory.
Steffon may have won them the war, but he was not entirely blameless in the near ruin of their House and family.
"It seemed like the most obvious choice," the boy countered, and he had tried to warn him about Joffrey and his indulgences, but Tywin had ignored them much to his fault.
Otherwise, he could have done something to prevent this whole unsavory affair.
"You should have come to me," Tywin admonished.
"And you would have forced me to kneel to the very brother who had tried to murder me," and the boy sighed.
"No," Tywin countered, taking the boy surprise.
"I would have listened to you," and now he frowned.
"Well, I am afraid there is little to gain from discussing the past now," and with that, he stood up and walked towards the window.
"What now?" he asked him, and Tywin raised a brow.
"Preparations are being made for your coronation," and Cersei's eldest had proven himself incapable of kingship, and Tywin would never let a boy destroy all of his life's work.
Steffon may have been wrong to flee towards Essos, but he had trained the boy himself and knew well that he would make a far better King than his twin brother.
"What of Joffrey?" he asked, and Tywin shrugged.
"What of him?" he asked, and Steffon raised a brow.
"He will not like this," and Tywin scoffed.
"Him and what allies," and the boy had no friends and no allies. He may rage and rave about being a King, but he was nothing more than a fool. He would have gotten rid of the boy had he not been his own kin, but Tywin would not let the idiot ruin his legacy.
"There will be whispers," Steffon countered, and Tywin walked until he stood beside him.
"A Lion does not concern itself with the opinion of the sheep," and they had won the war, so they had no need to concern themselves with the other Lords and their opinion.
"I doubt you are against the idea," Tywin added.
"After all, this was what you and Tyrion wanted," and he would have admonished him for his ambition, but his reasons were valid enough.
He did not deny it as he stood near the window.
"What has become of the war?" he asked.
"The Vale remains defiant, along with Catelyn Stark and her brother. Half of their armies have already broken ranks with them, but they will dare not attack us as long as we hold Eddard Stark and his daughters," and the war would have been won far more easily had Joffrey not ruined their alliance with the North because of his actions.
Cersei shared some of the blame herself, but most of the blame lay with the boy himself.
"Still, we may have won the war, but the realm is more divided than ever," and while the Baratheons were dead, there was another pretender gathering his armies on the other side of the Narrow Sea.
"Viserys Targaryen gathers his armies in Pentosh as we speak, and so we must act quickly to secure the realm," and that meant alliances and marriages.
"What of Dorne?" he asked, and Tywin was surprised by the question.
"Doran sends his brother and daughter to swear their allegiance but the Dornish have little love for our House. They will make fickle allies," and Steffon nodded.
"Only a fool would trust the Dornish," and Tywin could see his mind racing, as the boy made his own plots.
"In the end, there are only two realistic choices for you?" Tywin offered, and if they were to keep the realm together, then they would have need of allies.
"Sansa Stark and Margary Tyrell," and unlike his brother Steffon, was no fool.
"You must do as Robert did and secure your succession," and that meant a quick marriage.
"Tommen is my successor," he countered.
"Brothers make for fickle heirs. You must act quickly," and Steffon's face scrunched up, before he gave a sigh.
"I will think about it, but first we need to end this war," and Tywin was of the same mind.
"Many of the lords in the Vale have turned on Lysa Arryn and have named her a traitor. They have named her son, Robin a bastard and gathering armies as we speak," and they were supporting another boy named Harry Hardyn, a distant cousin of Jon Arryn.
"The Eyrie will not fall quickly. Let the Vale lords sort this themselves," and Tywin was of the same mind.
"But we must bring the Starks and the Tully's to heel," that would be easy to do.
"They will surrender soon enough," and suddenly Steffon's head snapped towards him.
"What of the Spider?" he asked, and the bald man had been the orchestrator of much of this misery.
Robert had been a fool to trust him, and the Spider had hollowed out his kingship just as he had done for Aerys's reign. The man was a mystery to him, but now the Spider had been caught in his own web.
"He was captured by one of your men," the Onion Knight if he could recall, and Steffon's joy was obvious.
"He is a dangerous man to keep alive," Tywin advised, and Steffon nodded.
"I know, but I wish to speak to him before we put his head on a pike," and he could do as he desired, but he had inquiries of his own to make.
"How did you defeat Stannis?" and he had heard a dozen different tales about it already, but he wished to know the truth of it.
"I demanded a trial by combat," and that was rather smart of him.
"Stannis has always prided himself in being a man of justice. I prayed upon that and forced him to face me in battle," and that was perhaps the only way he could have survived.
"That was smart of you," but he was not truly surprised.
"The allegations. You knew, didn't you?" and Tywin was no fool, and while the whispers may have died with Stannis himself, the truth of them was evident enough.
"It was why Cersei sent you to me," and he could barely contain his rage over this, and just the thought of it nauseated him, yet he held himself back through sheer force.
"I saw them," and his lips thinned, and yet despite that, the boy had held his tongue even in front of him.
"I suspected as much," and he stepped forward.
"It seems like Cersei and Jaime are greater fools than I had thought," and he stood beside Steffon, knowing.
"Still, you must never speak of them again. Ever," and Steffon nodded.
"I know, but we must do more than that," and he was listening.
"I intend to give Storm's End to Shireen as a display of our familial ties," and she was a traitor's daughter, but the reasoning of it seemed sound enough.
Such a display of generosity would help quell many of the rumors, and Tywin would make certain that such a thing never happened.
"You will do more than that," he began.
"You will remove Jaime from the Kingsgaurd, and restore him to his rightful place," and Steffon's eyes narrowed.
"What of Tyrion?"
"What of him?" Tywin retorted, but Steffon refused to budge.
"Even though he has proven himself to be a lesser fool than Cersei and Jaime, he is wholly unsuited to being my heir," and the Lords would never accept a half man as their lord.
They would never respect him.
"Then he will be on my Council," and Tywin gave a reluctant nod at that.
"If that is your choice," and Steffon nodded.
"It is," and there was much else to discuss, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door, as Tywin frowned.
"Who is it?" he roared back angrily, as a servant walked in.
"Your grace, I bring grave news. There has been an attack," and he was surprised at those words.
"Where?" Steffon asked quickly.
"The North, your grace....."
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