Three weeks had passed since Edmure's arrival in the capital. While the Seven Kingdoms remained at peace, the political waters of King's Landing had begun to churn at an alarming pace. Factions were forming at every level of the city's hierarchy. The Royal Navy, the Kingsguard, and the City Watch were all undergoing sudden reshuffles. Those in the capital began to speculate openly whether they were witnessing the preamble to another Dance of the Dragons.
Tywin Lannister was busy at work in the Small Council, trying to keep himself at the helm of this shifting ship. His brother, Kevan, handled the steady stream of reports pouring in from their various informants.
"What has happened to the Prince?" Tywin asked, rubbing his brow. He had been working for hours without a break. "I watched him grow up, and he always showed a distaste for politics. But right now, it's as if someone is feeding him the kind of poison that only a seasoned politician would enjoy."
"Brother, do you think it's a ploy against us?" Kevan asked. He was a formidable counselor and the most trusted aide to his brother—one of the few individuals who could truly glimpse into the mind of the Lion. "The King is letting him act with impunity, as if the two of them have decided to deal with others before biting into each other."
"The King has been mad for a long time and I think he's planning something bigger in his delusion," Tywin replied coldly. "The Prince is not among his favorite pets. Kevan, if things go south, take Cersei and Jaime out of the capital."
"What about you?"
"King's Landing is my second home; I won't let my mark upon it be removed so easily. Any news from the other members? Bribe everyone. I need to know everything—Pycelle, the Tyrells, Varys, the High Septon."
"Speaking of the High Septon," Kevan interjected, "he tried selling me a secret a week ago. Something about the Tully heir. See for yourself. I followed up on the reports, but I don't know if it's of any use." Kevan handed over a parchment and continued, "Ilyn Payne reported that the boy has some strange relation with the Kingsguard."
Tywin read the report detailing Edmure's actions since his arrival. He tapped the table rhythmically. "Hmm. Let's see. What if the boy is a mere ruse, and the Prince is the one pulling the strings?"
"Shall we monitor him?" Kevan asked, though he remained unconvinced that a mere child could play any real part in what was to come.
"No need to waste time; he's just a child," Tywin dismissed. "I'll meet him in person during one of my inspections. After all, we have a certain... relation." Jaime never hid anything from his father—or at least, that was what the Lion believed.
The next day, Edmure had a visitor. Between the wildfire, the Faceless Men, his trade deals with Myr, and the Valyrian books, he had forgotten about the Lannister matter. When he saw a contingent of fifty guards—red cloaks, gold cloaks—he was momentarily stunned by just how much power Tywin held in the capital.
"An esteemed guest has honored me with his presence," Edmure said, bowing. "Lord Lannister, should I be nervous about receiving the Hand of the King?"
"No need. I am here on an informal visit," Tywin spoke from atop his horse, looking down. To him, neither this boy nor the Tully line was particularly significant. Sending Jaime to Riverrun had been a mere whim, shared by both himself and the King. "It is fitting to visit a family friend."
Edmure smiled and spoke. "Speaking of family matters, there is a debt I need to collect. I'm sure Lannisters never renege on one."
"Mind your tongue, child!" barked the man Edmure had met when he first dropped the chest of gold. It was Ilyn Payne, the man who would eventually become the King's Justice.
"Do you remember Lord Roger Reyne? The Red Lion of Castamere?" Edmure asked, his tone airy. "My uncle once saved his life in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. He promised to repay the debt, but you had him killed before he could. This complicates things, don't you think?"
Edmure was talking nonsense, simply looking for any reason to goad the Westermen. Kevan Lannister let out a short, sharp laugh. To hear a child mention the Reynes in front of Tywin was like watching a man walk into a lion's den with a strip of raw meat tied to his neck.
"You wish to collect the coin?" Tywin's voice was like grinding stone. "Then you should jump into the pools of Castamere; his skeleton is still there, along with his entire family."
Tywin signaled his Red Cloaks. A few stepped forward to kill the boy. Tywin and Kevan began to turn their horses, considering the matter finished.
Edmure drew his sword in a blur of motion. He parried the first strike, pushed the guard back with a shield-bash, and spun to deflect a second. A brawl erupted in the Street of Steel. The crowd gathered, mesmerized by the sight of a lone boy dancing through the ranks of the Lannister elite.
"Useless!" Ser Ilyn Payne hissed, rushing in to finish what the guards couldn't.
"Good ser, we haven't spoken since the day I arrived," Edmure mocked, ducking a lethal swing. "How about a trip to the Sept after this? I promise to be gentle."
For ten minutes, the guards surged, yet Edmure remained untouched. It was a textbook display of a master humoring his students.
"Lord Lannister, how about we sort this out man-to-man?" Edmure jeered. The crowd began to titter; the Hand was being humiliated in his own city. "Or are you still a mouse? I heard your lady wife missed our King all the time because you weren't manly enough to keep her attention."
The air turned frigid. Joanna Lannister was the one wound Tywin could not heal. The rumours of her and Aerys had fractured their friendship years ago.
Tywin dismounted, his face a mask of cold fury. He drew his blade, but Edmure merely parried the strike with a laugh. "Oh? You don't even have a Valyrian sword? Are you even a Lion? How does that song go?"
"And who are you,"
the proud lord said,
"That I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
That's all the truth I know..."
Edmure's voice was unusually loud, eclipsing the scuffle on street. For some reason, Tywin felt the song has a connection with both of them. But he saves this song for occasions where he wants to make a point, a bloody one. But Tully were never in his target in particular. He got lost in the song, with his swings sluggish.
Seeing Tywin unable to land a single blow, Kevan rushed in to assist his brother. Edmure dropped all pretenses of gentlemanly combat. He began hitting both brothers square in the face with his pommel, laughing as he ran circles around them.
The farce continued until a new contingent of Gold Cloaks arrived, led by Ser Barristan Selmy. Looking at the chaos—the Hand of the King and his brother being pummeled by a laughing boy. Barristan simply sighed, thinking that after being quiet for weeks, this boy simply couldn't keep his head down for long.
[The song is a snippet of 'The rains of Castamere'. A version can be found at:
https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/The_Rains_of_Castamere]