Just as it was expected, the famous Queen of Thorns had arrived in King's Landing along with the carriages filled with provisions, straight from the Reach. The old woman with that sharp tongue had been greeted by her granddaughter and grandson but no one truly from the royal family.
Cersei had refused to do so, Joffrey had already left for the hunt with Trystan as his escort and some other guards and Tywin was simply too busy holding a small council meeting. Tommen was held back by his mother, occupied with his studies.
Visenya had watched the interaction from afar, using the view from one of the higher towers to observe but never approached. Olenna was not of some great importance to require a formal welcoming and the Dragoness knew eventually those two would meet.
Indeed, a few hours later her predictions came true.
She had spent most of her time in the Study of the Hand with Tywin, discussing and looking over some reports while thinking about how to properly manage all those new provisions. The war was still raging, Robb Stark still had Jaime and the people were starving.
Halfway through a small but heated argument on the fact, something that was common when they shared different views on a subject, a servant had visited them; a formal invite from the Queen of Thorns for the Wife of the Hand.
"She already suspected I would be here," Visenya had pointed out after the servant left.
"As much as I dislike her, I will admit she is a cunning woman. She is from the few that must have an idea of our habit of discussing matters of the realm," Tywin said, eyes scanning from the letter at her.
His wife scoffed faintly. "The Realm has forgotten but not her. It definitely gives a good first impression," she said and soon after Tywin dismissed her and allowed her to go.
Olenna's Solar, Red Keep - King's Landing, Crown Lands - The next evening
Visenya had worn the same dress as the day prior, only that this one was a far darker shade of red like dried old blood and had more golden accessories. The marks left by Tywin were fading rather quickly but she was not going to take any risks and allow gossip to spread.
Upon reaching the Solar, a servant made her presence known.
"Lady Visenya Lannister," the young boy had said, earning the attention of the older woman, who was busy enjoying a few grapes.
Olenna looked at the servant. "It's Lady Visenya Lannister née Targaryen, you fool. Show some respect to her. The Seven know she must have gotten tired of being called a Lion all those years."
The words of the Old Rose amused the Dragoness, who did not say much for the moment. She moved into the room as the servant quickly left, his head bowed and his tail between his legs.
"I would not say I have gotten tired but I will also not say people have forgotten from which family I come from," she said as Olenna stood up to greet her, an equally amused smile on her lips.
The Old Queen of Thorns knew that the Dragoness had a tongue, one she could not wait to truly see in action. It was not every day a woman like her existed, let alone knew how to siege and control power through their husbands.
"With your looks, only a fool would not remember but yet again; the world is filled with men," she said and motioned for the younger woman to sit down.
"I see the Queen of Thorns is a fitting title after all," Visenya pointed out as she sat on the cushion of the chair. "Your fame precedes you, Lady Olenna."
The Tyrell head popped a cherry into her mouth. "Ha," she chewed on it. "I would not so much call it fame, more like gossip. However, one must already know how that works considering your own fame...oh, and of course your latest title."
Visenya arched an eyebrow. And what that title might be? Must be a new one to have spread that quickly all the way to the Reach.
Olenna seemed to enjoy her sarcastic and quick-witted replies, finally finding someone to truly discuss with, who was neither a complete fool nor a naive child. "The Shadow Queen of the Old Lion is what has reached our ears. Tywin Lannister might rule the Realm but you are the one truly ruling from his shadow."
The Dragoness was amused by the title, one she knew Tywin would not fully enjoy but take pride in nonetheless.
"I presume you mean your ears, Lady Olenna. The realm tends to ignore the fact that women are often more powerful than their husbands or choose to forget to avoid accepting the situation of things."
"I knew I would like you, Lady Visenya," the old Queen said and motioned for the bowl filled with grapes and cherries. "Please, do try some. They are far better than what the Crownlands can offer."
Visenya took a grape and bit on it, tasting the rich sweet and juicy flavour. It was indeed far better than theirs since the climate at the Reach was also more favourable and their soils far more fertile.
The Crownlands were quite bare and rocky, unable to hold a lot of farms or support good harvests. The Westerlands had soil contaminated by gold and silver, unable to truly be fertile enough for things to grow; hence why most food was imported through Lannisport.
"I do appreciate the compliment, Lady Olenna," she said and her smile dropped as she became serious. "However, I am quite aware that it was Lady Margaery's idea for this meeting. I am also aware of your nature and you would not have invited me if you did not wish for us to discuss something."
Olenna chuckled from amusement and then drank some wine from her goblet. "Straight to the chase, I do appreciate that." She placed the goblet on the table. "Margaery is soon to be wed to your grandson and I have been informed of his...how a woman could truly say this?" she asked herself. "...abusive and questionable personality traits of his."
The Dragoness did not move from where she sat, barely taking another grape between her lips as her sharp amber eyes never left Olenna's.
"Lady Sansa must have talked, I presume," she pointed out, hiding her true feelings on the subject.
"Do not blame that poor girl your husband holds as his prisoner. After all she had been through, you cannot blame her for wishing to speak to someone."
Visenya held the need to roll her eyes but her face did betray her in the end. "She is too timid and shy to come on her own. I do suspect a fake sense of comfort and some good word bribery did the job," she pointed out, earning a ghost smirk from her conversation partner after she easily called out her plans. She lifted her goblet. "You wish something of me, Lady Olenna."
The Old Thorn called in the servant that stood outside the door, the very same one that had introduced Visenya when she first arrived. "You, boy. Do you sing?" she asked him out of the blue.
"I...I do, my Lady," he replied with some hesitation and confusion.
"Good. Start singing as loud as you can and do not stop until I tell you."
The servant was hesitant, cheeks turning pink from embarrassment and he looked at the two women. A sharp glance from his lady and he immediately obeyed, singing whatever song he could think of at that moment as loud as his voice could allow him.
Visenya smirked, easily seeing what the wise old woman was doing and shifted her focus from the loud singing servant boy to her.
"You are a mother, Visenya. You would never allow your son to be married to someone that would harm him, would you?" Olenna asked her rhetorically, already knowing the answer. "Margaery is my only granddaughter and I am not one to sit aside and let things play."
"You wish to cancel the wedding?" she asked but then connected more of the dots in her mind. "No, you wish to prevent Margaery from marrying Joffrey but still wish for her to become Queen."
"I said nothing of such sorts. Those words came from your mouth," she commented, clearly throwing any type of accusations out of the window and also making sure not to directly agree with her. "My husband was a good man but a fool when it came to handling our house. Stupid wars and useless kings have kept us down long enough. I do wish for stability and the best outcome for my house, ensuring their future would be more than some lords sitting on Highgarden. I know you think the same, having done a lot to aid both your houses."
Visenya said nothing for a moment, suspecting where this conversation would lead and she knew she had to play her cards right. She could not agree right away, showing her eagerness because it would take away the power she had so far against the older woman. She could not deny it, though, because she would risk making an enemy from a formidable rival and also ruin any chance for a 'second alliance' between their houses; one far more hidden and discrete.
"I do understand your motivations, Lady Olenna. In return, you must understand my position in all of this," the Dragoness finally said, drinking some sweet Arbor wine.
Considering Olenna was from there, it would make sense that the wine she would drink would be the sweet one from her homeland. It was, ironically, the one Visenya also favoured above others.
The servant kept singing, getting tired but a sharp look from his lady made him continue. He offered the perfect coverage for their discussion, ensuring anyone wishing to spy on them would have a hard time doing so.
"Oh please, I am not some cruel abusive woman to force your hand," she said, eating another cherry. "You take your time to think about it but I do believe you will see my point rather quickly," she continued.
The Dragoness did not comment on it and instead chose another sweet grape, clearly thinking about it but knowing she could make no haste moves at the moment. She had to think this through and most likely see what she could discuss with Tywin.
Unnamed Tavern - Riverlands
Arya, with Gendry and Hot Pie, had been walking for quite a while, ever since their escape from Harrenhal. With the war going on and Tywin back at King's Landing, Arya knew this was her chance to reunite with her brother and inform him of what she had learned as a cupbearer for the powerful couple.
She missed Needle but she had no time to take it back before they had to escape and so she had to stay with a normal sword for now and Visenya's dagger. In the end, they were found by a man named Thoros and his Brotherhood Without Banners.
She remembered them since they were often a common topic during war councils, yet she never expected them to look like that. She did not underestimate them, though, and in the end chose to follow them into a tavern.
There, they sat at a table with the three children on one side while Thoros and his men sat across from them. The tavern was lively, filled with people who drank and laughed as if a war had not been ravaging their lands for almost two years.
Thoros poured some ale into their bone-made jugs.
"I don't drink ale," Arya told him, refusing to even touch it.
She had tried wine in secret once during a dare and mostly out of curiosity and she did not like it. She found the taste bitter and she knew ale was worse. She could never truly understand why some people enjoyed drinking it in the first place.
Instead, she focused on the food served to them.
Thoros looked at her. "There's no story so good a drink won't make it better."
His companions agreed. "Yeah!"
Their leader barely glanced in their direction, his jug in hand. "You see? They've all suffered through my bouts of sobriety. It's very tedious for all concerned," he said, amusing Arya faintly. "Now, how did three children—"
"We're not children," she corrected him.
"How did three young persons such as yourselves, untrained in the art of war, escape from Harrenhal?"
The trio exchanged a look before they let the only girl take the lead.
"Gendry's a smith. He was apprenticed in the armoury."
"A smith, eh? Where'd you train?"
Gendry looked at Arya, who faintly gave him the approval to talk and be honest.
"King's Landing. Tobho Mott's shop."
"That criminal. He charges twice as much as every other armourer in the city."
"That's because he's twice as good."
"Aha!" Thoros was amused. "A smith and a salesman." He glanced at his companions, who shared his joke.
"Gendry stole us weapons," she said, dipping her bread into the warm soup.
"Ah, fought your way out of Harrenhal, I see."
"He knows how to use a sword and so do I," she explained but only earned laughter from the men across from her, who did not believe her.
"My brothers taught me."
The laughter continued and Arya felt the need to prove herself to them. She drew her sword and pointed it at Thoros' throat. The action made many men look her way but enjoy the sight, some having stood up to watch the show properly.
Thoros did not seem to be intimidated by that. He looked at the blade and feinted a drink. Instead, he rose and drew his sword before disarming her with a sweeping move of his blade. He watched with amusement as a surprised Arya took a step back, being unarmed.
Or so he thought, for when he moved closer and pretended to attack her, she grabbed a knife from her sleeve and pointed it at his heart; his blade inches away from taking her head.
She was shaking, her heart beating faster than ever but she refused to back down as she looked at him, ignoring the fact that his blade could have easily cut her head by the way she moved.
Thoros started to laugh and withdrew his sword, sheathing it as well. He grabbed some ale from a nearby table and lifted it.
"To your brothers!" he said, earning cheers from the men all over the tavern.
Shaken, Arya picked up the sword and walked towards the table, sitting next to her silent friends.
"Let me see that knife," he said, extending one hand.
Arya was hesitant to give it away and instead held it tightly in her arm, allowing him to see it from a distance. This amused the sell-sword and he leaned forward to inspect it. He tried to grab it but she pulled it back, placing it back into her sleeve.
"You saw it enough, I believe," she said, quickly getting overprotective of the blade.
Thoros drank some ale. "That's Valyrian steel you got there. Where did you find it?" he asked, making her friends also look her way since they did not know of the dagger.
"I didn't steal it if that's what you're implying," she defended herself. "It was given to me...as a gift."
"That person must have really liked you to give you such a gift," Thoros pointed out. "You can finish your meals before you go. It may be a while before you see another."
"You'll free us?"
"I gave you my word."
Without wasting another minute, Arya grabbed Hot Pie from the elbow and pulled him to his feet, despite his silent protests. Gendry followed suit and as they were about to leave the table, Thoros also stood up.
"But before you go, allow me to raise a cup to your—"
He was interrupted as a few more of his 'brothers' entered the tavern with a large hooded captive.
"Hey, hey." The man, named Anguy, greeted them and pointed to their latest catch as they approached closer.
"Now that is an uncommonly large person. How does one manage to subdue such an uncommonly large person?" Thoros asked, walking closer to the captive.
"One waits for him to drink until he passes out."
"Poor man. You have my sympathy." The leader joked and then removed the hood, quickly recognising the man in their captivity. "Aha, not a man at all. A Hound!" his men howled in jest. "So good to see you again, Clegane."
It took a moment for Sandor's eyesight to focus on the person in front of him and he frowned his only visible and unburnt eyebrow. "Thoros? What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Drinking and talking too much. Same as ever," he explained as the trio tried to slowly leave without drawing too much attention.
However, their attempt was fruitless because the Hound recognised one of them.
"Girl."
He called her and somehow Arya found herself freezing, facing him—her worst fear coming true.
"What in seven hells are you doing with the Stark bitch?" he asked Thoros, who clearly had no idea so far.