Chapter 34
It felt base and foolish to envy a boy who could no longer use his legs, but Jon struggled to overcome the feeling. Bran had been skinchanging for a shorter time than anyone else, yet his ability to defeat Jon in their ‘warg spars’ was uncanny. It was as if Jon were trying to stop a boulder rolling down a hill. It simply flattened him. Everything hurt. He felt a bone weariness that he had to fight to avoid falling into slumber instantly.
“You did better that time, Jon,” Bran said, looking utterly relaxed and at ease.
“Did I? It didn’t feel that way. At least Ghost, Shadow, and Summer are used to it, and stopped howling this time as we fought over the pup.”
He loved Bran. And he loved the truth that he was exceptional when it came to skinchanging. It was just… he had been the better at it between him and Robb. It had felt as if he was finally coming into his own as something he could take the lead with and prove his worth. But now it seemed that Bran had eclipsed them all.
Maybe even Sansa, ‘tis hard to say, it sometimes feels she’s forgotten us.
That wasn’t fair to think, either. Sansa had her hands full with so much. Her mother was exasperated by what her eldest daughter was reporting. The king was relying on her for counsel? It seemed half-mad that the fat drunk should look to her for wisdom. Margaery and other ladies of the court were endlessly trying to invite her to attend gatherings, riding excursions, and dinners. She was writing a book and all the while regularly using her skinchanging to try to eavesdrop on various notables to avoid any further assassination attempts and regicide.
It was much to bear and quite contrary to what Lord Stark had asked her to do. Especially when she had confessed to scheming a vast fortune out and away from the Lannisters. The sum would be sent to the North over years, but the first shipment already beggared belief.
She assures us she hasn’t put a target on her back. In fact, she swears that she’s in their good graces… but how? Men would kill for a hundredth of that amount. A thousandth!
Jon paid attention to things. He caught how Sansa cut short Lady Catelyn’s concerned interrogation over the coin with news that Jaime had confessed to trying to murder Bran. Everyone was pleased with that news and the Kingslayer was going to go on trial for that as well as the murder of the king’s squire and of course the regicide. He could recall the conversation clearly.
“Surely he’ll lose his head now?” Robb asked.
“What if he asks for trial by combat?” Bran questioned.
That was a cause of concern. Lady Catelyn looked worried about that too.
Jon actually wasn’t quite sure how that sort of thing worked exactly. If a man was accused of multiple crimes did he have to fight a trial by combat for each one?
“That will be up to the king,” Lady Catelyn said. “There are traditions, yes, but oft times they are ignored or altered.”
Robb nodded. “Like the Trial of Seven. Normally it has to be all knights, but Dick Bean fought in the famous one with King Maegor. And of course our kin died to the Mad King’s twisted version.”
Everyone in the North knew how Rickard and Brandon Stark died. He shuddered, imagining which fate was worse. The slow strangulation as you watched your father burn alive or being burnt while your son hung himself to save you, knowing that it was hopeless.
Jon snapped back to the present as he realized Bran was asking him a question.
“What was that?”
“I was asking if you think we should get Robb to practice with us too.”
Jon chewed on that for a while.
“Robb’s more dutiful than me; he might tell Sansa or your mother.”
Bran smiled. “I know, I just want to keep practicing and you are too worn out. It wouldn’t be safe.”
Jon knew that. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open. It was hard to focus. He vaguely nodded.
“Right… well, next time Sansa has time for a longer discussion, we should bring up you trying for another beast for you to slip into. I have Shadow, but with how fast you are advancing, maybe you should try a raven. Or a crow, you said you had a dream about a crow, maybe you are called to that type of creature.”
“Alright, we can wait then.”
Bran had always been good-natured. He had become dour and miserable after his fall. Not that Jon could blame him. But the change back to his sunnier disposition had been a welcome one. It was like he was back to his old self.
We’ll improve together and then we both can use this magic to help Father.
***
Margaery sat next to her grandmother and cousins during the trial of Ser Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer looked bored as his former brothers spoke out against him. On the other side of the chamber was the disgraced queen. Margaery could not help but enjoy some pleased satisfaction at her former rival’s distress. The Lannisters had thought to put her family on trial for a poisoning they did not do.
“Even gagged she can be heard. Why even allow her here?” Elinor asked Margaery.
“It is for the realm to see how mad she is,” Margaery explained. “The king does not wish to pursue conflict with the Westerlands. By presenting a traitorous brother, loyal to his mad twin sister, it absolves the Lannisters at large.”
Ser Meryn Trant finished his oath-sworn testimony. Though Margaery wondered why the chicanery was even necessary. The man broke his oaths he swore before the Seven when he did his treachery, so what did it matter if he broke his oath to be truthful during the proceedings? She did not think he lied at all, but she found the notion a bit absurd.
“So it is an act by the queen?”
Margaery giggled. “No, she probably truly is a touch mad. Everything is being taken from her and almost certainly her head as well. They won’t even let her speak in defense of her brother, not that he even has a defense.”
She looked around the rest of the room. Her betrothed sat next to other figures from the Riverlands who had arrived. Pale William Mooton and Lord Ryger as well as some lesser landed knights had made it in time. The king was impatient to be on with it, so while word had gone out to those who wished to see the justice of Robert Baratheon, most who would have attempted the journey would not have made it.
A few rows down Margaery spied Sansa and Arya Stark. They were at the end so their wolves could be beside them. Jeyne Poole was softly asking Sansa a question, most like in much the same way Elinor had asked her.
We are alike. Two women with wit and cunning who take the time to educate our lessors and prepare them for the world.
It troubled Margaery how wroth Renly had become with Sansa. She had not done anything to move against Renly. In truth, Sansa had told Margaery that she admired the Lord of Storm’s End and had said she was fond of him for listening to her appeal to send men from the Stormlands to the Wall to investigate the stories of the dead being used as weapons.
Margaery understood that the issue was the question of incest. Sansa had been very persuasive. At first it seemed clear to her after the accusation was open, that it all rather made sense. Edric Storm and apparently other bastards were all dark of hair. Cersei had plotted to murder the king after all. She was privy to more information than most, such as the raven from the Lord of Dragonstone that had caused the twins to enact their treachery. It fit just as Renly said it did.
Until she spoke with Sansa. The girl patiently, and yet with clear passion, spoke of why such a thing was not only unlikely but improbable. If someone were mad enough to give horns to the king, then how could such a foolish person keep that secret for a decade and a half? Jaime and Cersei would have to have had more than their fair share of good fortune to accomplish something like that. Furthermore, Sansa had been bold enough to ask the king directly if he had lain with his wife. Robert had said that he did, so what were the odds that he never had been able to put a child in her belly? Especially since he had sired so many bastards. His virility was not in question, so how?
Margaery had made the counter-argument that maybe Cersei had taken moon tea to prevent bearing his own child, and she had again countered with what a stupid ploy that would have been. Someone so irrational as to do that would have become sloppy and her adultery would have been unearthed long ago.
Sansa then provided historical examples of when scions of the Baratheon line gave birth to lighter hues of hair, most famously Rhaenys Targaryen’s children. Rhaenys was descended from Jocelyn Baratheon and that black hair had given way. She then pointed to her own family and how most of her father’s children favored the auburn hair of his Tully bride.
She made those same arguments to the king. That is what has Renly so wroth. I was certain before I spoke with her at length regarding the children. And now, I could not say for certain what is correct. Of course, it is not just one brother who is furious.
Lord Stannis had arrived in the morn and by the set of his jaw his brief meeting with the king had not gone well. He sat next to his wife, Selyse of House Florent. Around him were a pair of knights and a woman, a most striking woman. Margaery knew her worth. She was the Flower of Highgarden, the most beautiful maid in the realm. But this woman… and her fiery mane clad all in red was now the subject of many second, third, and countless more looks.
Who is she?
She refocused on the proceedings as Jaime was called to speak.
“So you tried to murder me, eh? Thought being a Kingslayer once over wasn’t enough for the great Jaime fucking Lannister?”
Jaime’s face was marred with ugly stitching. “Do you wish for the truth? I swear it by the old gods and the new, the real truth.”
Margaery saw Robert’s momentary confusion before he leaned forward. “Go on then.”
“It was for the Iron Throne.” Jaime paused, and his disfigured features morphed into a savage smirk. “It’s a relic that has been around for centuries. I feared that it would crumble under your fat arse. In truth, I was doing the realm a favor, could you imagine a king having to have another Iron Throne construction after you shattered this one?”
The king stood up in a fury, but Jaime just continued.
“What would your Targaryen grandmother think? You crushing the family heirloom…”
Robert stepped forward, fury on his face as the court tittered. Margaery feared that Robert would strike Jaime dead there and then, but Ser Barristan interposed himself.
“Your Grace, the trial.”
Robert mastered himself and returned to his seat.
“You like to laugh, do you? Perhaps you think there is nothing more that I can do other than take your head. Is that it? Get your last japes in while you can and make a mockery of my court?”
Jaime laughed. “You do that all yourself, Your Grace. Is that Lord Stannis I see, how was your wedding? The one where the king fathered a bastard in your own wedding bed? The night you stated your marriage vows? I wonder how many lords, knights, and smallfolk laugh at you both.”
Margaery’s eyes widened. This day would feed singers for a hundred years.
“Or perhaps…”
“Shut your mouth, Kingslayer. I can still hurt you. As the Protector of the Realm I have no desire to do more than mete out justice with a clean death. But if you continue your insolence, I will not be so merciful to your sister. Remind me, Grand Maester, how did Lady Misery meet her end?”
Margaery recalled that story. It was a favorite of her grandmothers. Not because she liked what had occurred, but as a warning as the cost of failure. Mysaria had served as the mistress of whispers for Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. When the Greens had eventually taken the Red Keep, she had been whipped to death in the streets of King’s Landing.
The Grand Maester was shocked himself and shakily recounted how Ser Perkin had condemned the woman. How her naked body had been lashed hundreds of times before falling naked on the city’s cobblestones.
Margaery saw Jaime stiffen. “I will compose myself, Your Grace.”
The trial proceeded. Robert questioned Jaime on who participated. He named the names of the red cloaked guardsmen, Littlefinger, Janos Slynt, and the other members of the Kingsguard who had spoken out against him.
“Did any other Lannisters take part in your treachery?”
“No, Your Grace. There wasn’t time. Your brother’s lies forced me to act. I wouldn’t have you…” Jaime wanted to say something else, “I wouldn’t have you disgrace my sister. She came to me not knowing what to do, but I swear that she did not order your death. I told her I would protect her and then left. I ordered the other members of the Kingsguard to stay and protect Cersei, they knew what I was about, but Cersei did not. They lied.”
“My brother claims you lay with your sister. Did you?”
Jaime laughed. “I love my sister, but I have no Targaryen blood in me.”
Margaery suppressed an inappropriate laugh. Jaime neared the edge of blatant disrespect with such a comment, for he had already reminded everyone that Robert had Targaryen ancestors.
Robert glared at him, but continued. “There are other crimes you have committed.”
“Aye, I tried to kill the crippled Stark boy. If I were him, I would have welcomed death. It would have been a mercy. From what I hear he is unable to use the privy without aid. What kind of life is that?”
“So you admit it freely. Without coercion or threat of torment?”
“I do, Your Grace. I have no regrets.”
Robert rose. “Then I am done with you. For attempted regicide, the murder of Edric of the House Dayne, the violation of guest right, the attempted murder of Bran of the House Stark, I, Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of my Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to die. Ser Alyn of the North, bring me his head.”
Margaery thought the Kingslayer looked rather shocked at the suddenness. His eyes were on Cersei before he was wrenched down and held in place for the northern knight. The stroke was smooth and Jaime’s head parted cleanly. Some of the women cried out and fainted. One young squire lost his breakfast. Cersei was screaming, tears running down her face, still gagged with cloth.
Both Alla and Elinor clutched at her arms. Elinor did not flinch away from the death, but Alla buried her face in Margaery’s dress. Margaery noted that Arya did nothing of the sort, unlike her Tyrell cousins who were older than her.
The North was savage, yet here that savagery served them well. A lady of the court must remain composed. Still, allowances can be made for youth, my cousins are not yet of age to be considered more than maids. But I will see they do better in the future, or it will reflect poorly on me.
“That’s one traitor dead, let’s hear what the next has to say!” Robert said with forced joviality.
Cersei was forced into a chair facing those in the hall and Robert. The gag was removed.
“You coward! You wretch. This is a farce. I demand Trial by Combat!”
Murmurs erupted among the gathered nobility.
“So you have nothing to say in your defense? Very well then, you may name a champion.”
Margaery saw a look of triumph in Cersei’s eyes. “I name Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides as my champion!”
Robert was grinning ear to ear. “My Lord Hand, please read the letter you received from Tywin Lannister, my Warden of the West.”
Margaery exchanged a look with her grandmother. This was… unexpected. Renly also looked a bit surprised.
The Hand read the letter that proclaimed Cersei a woman driven mad by grief. No longer of sound mind. As her father, he could not bear the idea of her tormented state persisting, and urged the king to gently put her out of her misery. He forbids any knight of the Westerlands from representing her as the proofs of her guilt were absolute.
That was brilliantly orchestrated.
Cersei was screaming that it was lies. Her father would never abandon her. That everyone else was traitors. Everyone. Tyrion, Kevan, Lancel, even Pycelle, even names Margaery didn’t recognize. Horror and outrage warred in her voice as the certainty of death approached.
“Enough. You are mad and I would be inclined to offer mercy and send you to your lord father to see to that the rest of your days were as peaceful as they could be, but the Old Lion know you best. Losing Joffrey has caused you to descend in abject misery.”
“No. No. No! I demand another champion. Gold to the victor! Who will Robert choose to represent him? An old worn out knight? His useless brothers? Should you prove my innocence you will have all the gold in Casterly Rock.”
Her grandmother, a couple of seats away, wryly commented that how pray tell would she even be able to get to said gold? Remembering her role whenever the Queen of Thorns made out of turn comments, Margery gave a soft exclamation and begged her to behave.
“You named your champion already, Cersei. The management of the realm cannot wait and this will be decided here and now. But… I suppose we can provide another chance. Is any knight moved by the words of the addled wits of my former wife?”
“Former wife?” Alla asked.
“The High Septon can declare a marriage sundered,” Margaery answered.
Other than a few whispers the hall was silent. No one stood for Cersei.
The king’s face held savage delight.
He is enjoying her humiliation. It is untoward, if he wishes to present Cersei’s execution to the realm as an act of mercy.
“No one wishes to stand for you. No one is willing to die for you. No one thinks you are worth it,” Robert said with glee.
Cersei’s face twisted, her mouth working as if she were physically choking back the words… until the dam broke.
Cersei’s face twisted in fury. “Others take you! You were never worthy of me. The better man died on the Trident. I could never bear the thought of letting you sire any trueborn children. Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella were Jaime’s. He was thrice the man you were. You hear me Robert! You monstrous savage! You were never–”
“Gag her!” Lord Royce demanded and guards quickly saw to it.
Margaery was stunned. Cersei confessed that her children were not the king's? What would happen to Tommen and Myrcella? Her eyes looked over toward Sansa. She looked calm and perfectly poised. Arya was angrily whispering something to her, but Sansa just whispered something that calmed her down. Stannis’s expression had turned to pure satisfaction while others looked on in horror.
She would have expected the king to be radiating fury, but his features were solemn as he pronounced her sentence.
“I, Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of my Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to die. Ser Arys.”
Arys Oakheart moved forward after a brief moment of hesitation. He barked to get the guards to hold her tighter so he did not miss his stroke. He lined up his blade and then swung down on the terrified Cersei. Her head parted as cleanly as Jaime’s. Once more her cousins reacted and she soothed them.
The bodies were removed and the king rose.
“I have much and more to say now that the court has gathered. Ser Kevan of the House Lannister, approach.”
Ser Kevan wore resplendent armor trimmed in gold. He knelt before the king.
“Ser Kevan Lannister learned of the treachery of his kin and acted with haste to prevent further harm. The realm owes you a debt of gratitude. Speak now, what would you have as your reward?”
“I merely did my duty, Your Grace. However, my brother believes your small council is in need of wise counsel. Tyrion Lannister is innocent, but he does not have the experience to help correct the errors of judgement the small council has made in advising you. I asked to be named master of coin in his stead.”
Robert nodded. “Rise, Ser Kevan, master of coin. I look forward to your continued presence within the city.”
Lord Renly’s handsome face could not hide his irritation.
“Good service requires award and poor service must also have consequences. Grand Maester Pycelle. You have served the realm faithfully for many, many years. Too many years. Your wits have fled in your dotage. Some say otherwise, some say that it was deliberate treason that caused your poor counsel and other acts. But I am the king and I remember fondly your many years of service, so go with my thanks back to the Citadel.”
Pycelle looked stunned. He tried to murmur something about precedent and still being capable.
“No, none of that now. For if you weren’t incapable, you would be guilty of something worse. And I’m running out of space on the wall for all the heads,” Robert said with a great big laugh. That silenced the Grand Maester.
Robert turned to his brother Stannis. “Lord Stannis, my brother. You failed to inform me of your belief of the highest treason for more than a year. You ignored my summons. You ignored your post as master of ships. You have already been stripped of your place on the small council, but more is needed. I am disappointed in you. And yet, I cannot find it in me to send my own flesh and blood to the Wall. Instead, you and your line are disinherited from the royal House Baratheon and of Storm’s End, even if Renly should not produce an heir. Neither you nor your descendants will inherit anything more than Dragonstone.”
Stannis was on his feet, outraged. “You cannot do this! Robert, we must speak. There were reasons…”
“Sit down. You will have your chance to meet with the small council immediately after this, but mark my words, the crown has spoken. I honored you by naming you as my heir until Joffrey was born. I honored you by naming you Lord of Dragonstone. I honored you by appointing you to my small council as master of my ships. You spat on my goodwill, called it an insult and then shirked your duties.”
Margaery was annoyed by not having any hint of this from Renly. Lord Renly’s face was a mixture of surprise that had changed to deep amusement, but still. It boded ill that the Tyrells main source of information on what the king would do next was so caught unawares. It was becoming clear that Robert no longer confided much to Renly.
Stannis looked as if he was about to shatter his teeth so tightly did the sinews in his jaw bulge and flex. But sit he did, for Robert was not done. He switched over to matters of less import, other honors given to those that had done leal service. Her own house was praised alongside that of House Royce. Chests full of silver in equal parts from the crown and from House Lannister were to be sent south to Allyria Dayne for the loss of her valiant nephew who died while defending the king. Ser Jacelyn Bywater was named Commander of the City Watch in place of the traitor Janos.
“You all heard the words of Cersei Lannister. Her accusations against the noble Ser Kevan. The accusations against Tyrion Lannister who is innocent of his siblings crimes. Her witless raving as she cast aspersions toward any and all, including her children’s parentage. I would dismiss them out of hand utterly, but my feckless brother, Stannis, makes the same claim. As such, this claim must be examined. The matter will be taken up by the small council. The High Septon and Stannis will join me and the council immediately after court has ended.”
That caused a stir. Margaery thought about it and then blinked.
Wait… surely he couldn’t have…
Even her grandmother was frowning thoughtfully. Gods to be a fly on the wall of that meeting!
***
Weiss was in position as I escorted Arya back to our now heavily guarded rooms so that I could spy on the small council. I intended to take a hand in ensuring we had additional proper help and do a better job of maintaining better security. Many of the maids, servants, cooks, and runners would be tested in the coming weeks. They would be offered bribes by third parties that Jory had arranged ahead of time to test how loyal they might be. Those who failed the test would be dismissed, and others would be retained. The ones most trustworthy would eventually in turn be the same individuals who would be conducting the same test for the new servants hired.
Another task I need to oversee. I really wish Arya had made more progress with Ser Pounce. She can warg into the cat, but she hates it and no ‘bond’ has formed. Age, temperament, or something else, I just don’t know.
I had been neglecting Winterfell, but there was just so much to do. Their knowledge of events in the south were simply not important for the moment with the attention of the North on my father’s expedition. The ravens we had received back had been frustrated by the lack of wight sightings. That could perhaps be considered a good thing, maybe it was far more difficult to raise the dead. Maybe it required some sort of act near the moment of death itself. I really had no way of knowing.
Before I fully slipped into Weiss, Arya looked at me. “You better be right about Tommen and Myrcella.”
Since Arya was spending more time around Tommen and Myrcella she had started to grow more protective of them. She still found Myrcella boring and Tommen a bit annoying, but she cared for them. The truth was that Cersei had done exactly as I had predicted she would. I had told the king that mothers would do almost anything to protect their children. But some could be driven by hate to sacrifice their own kids for vengeance. If love won over hate, then Cersei would never admit to it being true.
I had drawn a simple box chart for him where at the top I wrote R for Robert and NR for Not Robert. On the left side I wrote H for Hate and L for Love on the rows. If Cersei loved more than hated than for both boxes, Robert and Not Robert, she would not speak out and claim they were someone else’s children. I had been careful to also always focus on the possibility of them being someone else’s children as opposed to Jaime. That way, even if Robert concluded there had been infidelity, it may not make him automatically believe they were spawned of incest. Which would help me potentially save their lives.
The magic happened in the H row. If Cersei’s children were Robert’s, she would seek to get revenge beyond the grave by trying to make Robert a kinslayer. So where R and H intersected, Cersei claiming they were not Robert’s in a fit of hateful rage would lead us to conclude they absolutely had to be Robert’s children. If they were in truth not Robert’s her revenge would mean staying silent. I had then gone on to explain how if Cersei claims her children are Robert’s then we have no notion if it is because love for children won out over hate or if it meant they were not his trueborn heirs. But if she at any point lashed out and claimed they were not Robert’s then we would have proof positive that they were Robert’s.
Naturally, the entire argument was little more than sophistry. But Robert wasn’t cerebral enough to try to piece back my logic train to their failure points and drawing a diagram neatly had helped. I had set the stage so that whatever Cersei said at her trial would not cause harm, and may in fact be the convincing factor for the king to believe his children were actually his own.
From there it was just encouraging Robert to be a bit sadistic and to further humiliate Cersei where he could, and of course to make sure Jaime lost his head first. The Kingslayer had wanted to trial by combat but we told him if he even brought it up the king would refuse it saying he already had his trial by combat when he fought in the Royal Apartments. It still would be a little bit of a stinker from a reputation standpoint so we had bartered Tyrion’s continued life.
It turned out quite well using Tyrion that way. Jaime thought he was saving his brother’s life, but Tyrion wasn’t going to die anyway. My fondness for him was known to Robert so he was always going to look at him as less suspect, despite what Cersei said.
Stannis showing up had caught me a bit off guard, but I had briefly spoken with Robert about his brother. I hadn’t truly planted anything new that hadn’t been said before by Renly, but that just made it more persuasive when I echoed his own words, just said in my own manner. The king was already predisposed to not liking Stannis, when I made mention that I hoped he wouldn’t send him to the Wall because then my Father would have to deal with him, it had shocked him. But that was just me shoving the Overton window in the direction I liked and planting the seed that Stannis deserves it, but then asking him not do it.
Did Stannis deserve the Wall? Maybe, maybe not. I didn’t know him, but quite literally, by all accounts in King’s Landing, he was awful. No one liked the man. Father had more than a little praise for strength of character in withstanding the siege and then for his exploits in the war in Balon’s Rebellion at sea, but that was it. Either way, sending your own brother to the Wall was extreme and I didn’t want it to happen, but he was opposite my position so I had to further widen the preexisting animosities.
I was shocked he even mentioned the Wall in his speech, but that was just a positive sign that Robert really was taking the words I said to heart. Hopefully it would stay that way, but I still had to be careful not to overplay my hand. Renly had already spotted how good I was, and Varys probably did too.
The legwork with Kevan and Tywin to strip away Cersei’s ability to call a champion and then add an extra dose of humiliation I could only claim partial responsibility. Robert was the one who ran with it and added to it. He really didn’t like his ex-wife. I knew from listening in on conversations with Robert and Kevan that Tywin had tried to get Jaime to the Wall, but Robert had put his foot down and wouldn’t even consider it. Tywin was more than happy to write off Cersei however, who he apparently blamed for everything.
The council itself was Robert, Ser Barristan, Yohn, Varys, Renly, and Kevan. In the chamber was also Stannis. He had tried to bring his tall red-haired guest and one of his knights, but Robert had said no he didn’t want too many people. The High Septon had also been primed for this meeting, but I was still a little nervous. What else did Stannis have and why wouldn’t he put it in his letter if he did have more evidence? That was the part that I was actually concerned, because it didn’t make sense for him to gravitate toward the incest claim. The infidelity? Sure, but the incest? It implied a smoking gun, but one that he didn’t write down.
Let’s see your cards, Stannis.
“Robert,” Renly said softly, “she confessed in open court. Tommen and Myrcella are not yours. They are Jaime’s.”
“Not necessarily,” Ser Kevan said. “Unless you would also name me a traitor. Cersei made that claim as well, at the end.”
“Quiet, the both of you,” Robert said. “Cersei allowed her hate for me to get the best of her love of her children. That makes things easier because that means they have to be mine.”
“Are you in your cups, again?” Stannis asked tightly.
“No, not today. I wanted to have full memory of Jaime and Cersei’s heads being cut off. I will be celebrating after we get through this damned meeting. But speak, explain your own treasons and why you were so damned sure Cersei was fucking Jaime.”
The sound of Stannis grinding his teeth filled the chamber, which was eerily impressive. Stannis practically barked out his words.
“You would never have believed me. You would have thought it was self-serving.”
Varys tittered. “The man who hid word of high treason from his own brother for a year, thought self-serving? Perish the thought, my lord.”
Renly laughed openly and Kevan had a satisfied smile on his lips.
“You surround yourself with fools and flatterers. I see not much as changed since I left. No, Robert, the truth is that Jon Arryn also thought the queen had given you horns. But you barely listened to either of us, so we wished to gather evidence. We found multiple of your leavings, your bastards, and they all had dark of hair. Before Jon could do more, he was murdered. I could see that they intended to do the same for me and that you would never believe it. You were in your grief and drunker than usual, it was hopeless.”
Robert looked at his brother. “And if I didn’t believe it, what of it? You had a duty. My words in court were true. You failed me. You could have reached out to Ned, or Bronze Yohn. Someone to explain your suspicions and have the claim reviewed by the small council and myself. I’m not sending you to the Wall or executing you, you are still my flesh and blood, despite your behavior. I never thought you a craven.”
More teeth grinding. “You don’t understand! There was more proof, but it was of a less tested sort.”
Robert waited then said, “Well? What proof?”
Stannis looked around the table. “Melisandre of Asshai. She sees things in her flames. Knows things she cannot possibly know. She said if I remained in King’s Landing I would die.”
Renly let out a contemptuous laugh. “Truly? Mayhaps she could have foreseen Jaime’s attack so young Dayne might not have perished. Gods, be silent Stannis, let me argue why the children aren’t Roberts. You’ll actually convince him of the opposite if you keep speaking.”
“This is no jest!” Stannis roared. “You and your japes. You must relish my diminishment. Once again I am set aside for you.”
“I never abandoned my brother to his enemies. I sent Ser Loras to gather Tyrell swords while I went unarmored with Lord Royce to see to my king’s safety. Where were you? I will jest at your expense, but I am also serious. You do our cause more harm than good when you depend on wood witches as your reasoning.”
Stannis glared at his brother. “She is no wood’s witch, I assure you of that. She predicted the fiery stranger in the sky before it came. Melisandre told me the dead would rise and that the dead would walk.”
“You knew of the coming attack on the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and chose not to warn him?” Yohn asked, pure doubt echoing in his voice.
“No, not specifically his death, but more generally. There will be more than just two wights. All the realms of men will need to unify to stop them.”
Ok… I was not expecting this.
“What story book did you read that in?” Renly asked. “Again, I beg of you, stay silent.”
Robert snorted, but kept himself composed. “Stannis, you’ve told me nothing that gives me pause of my earlier command. You and yours will remain removed from the line of succession.”
Varys added in, “Take heart, my lord, you are still Lord of Dragonstone and the King’s brother. Errors have been made, but His Grace is magnanimous.”
“Are all of you against me? Will none of you see reason and convince your king of his folly?”
Royce shook his head. “You had many moons to present your case. When you finally acted, it nearly cost your brother his life. I am sorry, my lord.”
Barristan nodded. “Honor demanded that you warn His Grace.”
Stannis looked disgusted and more than a little frustration. “Robert. Meet with her, listen to her. I have not the words to make you see, but she is real. She has power.”
Robert shrugged. “Asshai, eh? Sansa might like to meet her as well. She’s always going on about her books from Essos. I will have some time free on the morrow, but nothing she will say changes the truth of this. You let fear for your own safety keep secret something you have told me. I am your king. I have already dismissed other advisors who hide things from me, and all my remaining ones know what I expect! And even beyond that, you were the master of ships! Gods, Stannis, you see slights everywhere, but this was all your doing.”
Stannis lowered his head. “As the king commands. Tomorrow then. You will see.”
A few moments passed. “You may leave,” Robert said.
“Are we not going to discuss the product of Cersei’s adultery?”
“My small council will. You are not a part of it,” the king replied.
Ouch. He’s feeling vindictive today.
Stannis marched stiffly from the chamber.
“Thank the gods,” Renly said cheerfully. “Now, what more do you need? She confessed! Look at Edric. Look at your other bastards. They all have black hair and your features. The very day Cersei reads a letter revealing the truth of their parentage, she tried to have you murdered.”
“Not all of His Grace’s natural-born children have dark hair,” Varys said. “I had my little birds look into it and there’s a babe born here in King’s Landing from a whore who claims it is the king’s. There’s an older one with auburn hair in the Riverlands. While it is true that a great many of His Grace’s children have come out with dark hair, it is far from all of them.”
Oh, that’s interesting and very convenient! Varys has been very helpful of late.
Renly faltered, then pushed on. “How do we know those are Robert’s and not some other man the whore slept with?”
“How do we know any of them, save for Edric Storm, are his? We go by what whores and their keepers tell us,” Varys countered.
Renly was getting peeved. “You are just saying what you think Robert wants to hear so you don’t lose your position. Everyone speaks of you and how you know so much. The great Spider, and yet you failed quite completely. Now you defend the indefensible just because that is what you think my brother wishes to hear!”
“My lord,” Barristan said. He rarely spoke, though he sat on the small council. “That is unfair. Lord Varys has brought displeasing news to this council before. The man is no wizard, and he has made it clear his whisperers found no purchase on Dragonstone.”
Renly sighed. “What of the rest of you? Can you look at those blond children and see Robert in them?”
Lord Royce answered. “No, I cannot. But sons and daughters do not always take after their fathers. The example that has oft been used is Robb and Sansa Stark. They have much of Lady Catelyn and little of Lord Stark. It is chance, perhaps unlikely chance, but chance, nonetheless. Cersei confessing does hold weight. Jon Arryn seriously considering the matter holds weight.”
Kevan glared at the Hand. “So which is it? Do you call my kin, bastards or no, my Lord Hand?”
“I say that it is more likely than not, that they are not His Grace’s get. However, as Hand, I would urge for the Wall for Tommen and the Faith of the Seven for Myrcella. There is no man more accursed than a kinslayer. Without certainty that they are abominations of incest – we cannot put them to death.”
That’s a fair analysis. He’s not a bad Hand.
“You know my opinion, Your Grace,” Kevan said stiffly.
“Absent the ravings of an addled mind and no more true evidence than hair color, I would say that is insufficient. My little birds never once heard of any talk of infidelity,” Varys said simply. “I believe they are your trueborn children, Your Grace.”
Robert finally looked at Ser Barristan.
“Your Grace, until the accusation was made, I never suspected it. I think back to the times where it might have occurred, and I can only say that Ser Jaime often preferred to remain behind and not join in any of your hunts. Other than those times, I do not see how it could have been done. And my memory fails me in recalling the exact days you hunted compared to the likely day of the quickening of seed in her womb. Lord Royce is correct in that no man is more accursed than a kinslayer.”
The High Septon was the last to speak.
“Your Grace, it is taught by the Seven that save for the House of the Dragon, the sin of incest is grave and the spawn that it produces are malformed and twisted. I have seen Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen in services and they are well made. Taking one look at them confirms to me that they walk in the light of the Seven.”
Robert nodded. “Thank you all for your counsel. A wise king who hears only praise is already half betrayed. I will repeat what I have said before. Cersei proclaiming them to be products of infidelity is proof that they are not. Were they abominations, she would enjoy the thought that I unknowingly was raising to the throne someone not of my blood.”
Ah, smooth sailing.
“And yet…”
Or not.
“The biggest advocate for Tommen and Myrcella is not any of you. It is my ward, Sansa Stark. When she speaks to me about them, my doubts melt away, but she is also close companions to them. Tommen delights in her and Myrcella is eager to spend yet more time with her. The old gods ill favor children born of incest as much as the Seven, if not more. So I intend to test Sansa’s resolve. I intend to offer her the chance to be queen again. Either as Tommen Baratheon’s bride, or as Edric Storm’s. If there is any doubt in her heart, Tommen’s most persuasive champion, then she will hesitate to write to her parents and ask them to approve the match. If she instead chooses Tommen, then I know her passionate words are as earnest as they can be.”
WHAT? WHY?
Renly objected strongly.
Yes, go Renly! Talk sense into your idiot brother!
“Seven hells, what kind of foolishness is this? Sansa has already said she believes Tommen is your son. Repeatedly. To many people. Her blue eyes well, feigning tears at the thought of the cruel accusation, and tugging at the hearts of the weak-willed. Putting the fate of the Seven Kingdoms in the hands of a soft-hearted woman who would shed tears if her companions suffered is… is… I cannot find the words!”
The High Septon reddened a bit. “Your Grace… Sansa Stark is a sweet child, but she does not follow the Seven. Would you have the future queen of Westeros be someone who follows a faith only held by one sparsely populated kingdom? Especially one who has her virtue tarnished at the Trident.”
Robert grunted. “Lyanna followed the old gods too. Was that a defect? No, a better question. If Lyanna had survive the repeated rapes Rhaegar had inflicted on her, would you have had me dismiss her after I killed him? Well?”
The High Septon wilted and bumbled out apologies.
“Lord Varys,” Robert said after he let him squirm for a bit, “remind me again how many jars of wildfire were found in a storeroom beneath the Great Sept of Baelor?”
“Two hundred jars, Your Grace. Another three hundred were found in the Dragonpit, and a hundred found in an unused portion of the Black Cells. The Alchemists Guild are currently searching the major intersections and gates of King’s Landing as well as dwellings with basements. A small cache of a score of jars were found in Flea Bottom.”
“That was that ‘sweet girl’s doing, High Septon. Her having the wherewithal to take the lessons her parents taught her and combine them with the wisdom of a dozen lands spanning hundreds of years to direct the questioning of the traitors. No one knows when those jars would have ignited, but as wildfire ages, it grows more potent and volatile. I trust Sansa.” He looked around the room. “As for the rest of you, yes I’m aware she will most like say yes. My mind is nearly fully already made up. This is simply a way to allow me to sleep peacefully that the person with the most convincing voice is completely true to what she says.”
I don’t want to get married! I could say no… I could say neither, right? My old song and dance of Joffrey would fall flat as more time passed. Maybe I could stall? No… now’s not the time. Argh! Why?
I took a breath in my rat body and forced myself to calm down. The rodent instincts of flight when stressed wasn’t helpful. Any betrothal would be one that took years. Tommen was about seven years from maturity. Plenty of time to have the betrothal be broken for some reason or another before the wedding. Maybe I could fake some sort of medical condition that interrupted my menstrual cycle and pass off some bullshit to whatever maester the Citadel sent that I was barren. Or perhaps a more simple option would just be for me to instruct my parents to refuse the match, but if Robert was truly not one hundred percent sure of my commitment, an early refusal would be damaging.
More talk was occurring, I had missed something when my thoughts were racing, but Kevan was now speaking.
“Your Grace, I’m not opposed, I think Sansa will leap at the chance. But… do you not find something suspect in her being so learned in so many things? And able to strike at the heart of these matters. What child loosens tongues better than the confessors of old?” His wrinkled brow furrowed further. “I just wonder who among the Stark retinue is advising her of all this. Or perhaps it is someone else she spends her days with. A noble family of the crownlands?”
“What retinue?” Robert laughed. “Save for a few servants, there are only six guards. Five, now that Ser Alyn is of the Kingsguard. I suppose it is possible, but kings have trusted advisors, would there be anything wrong with her having one? From where the wisdom comes is of little matter compared to what the wisdom contains.”
I had taught Robert that as well, partially because it really was true, and also because it helped make my own view more likely to be listened to since I was supposedly simply regurgitating wisdom accumulated from my reading.
“I’d be curious, Lord Varys,” Kevan asked, “who it might be. While the king obviously trusts her, for many reasons, not least of which that her pet wolf helped save his life, that doesn’t mean she herself cannot be led astray by someone else and then pass along the thought to you and have it come to ill.”
Varys bowed his head. “With the king’s permission, I could make an effort to discover who may be advising her.”
“I competed in my first joust as a mystery knight when I was ten,” Ser Barristan said solemnly. “Some children age faster. Sandor Clegane boasted about killing men when he was twelve. If men can master elements of war at ten and two-and-ten, why cannot the rare woman be so accomplished in matters of scholarship? I have spoken with Lady Sansa, seen how she composes herself in even the grimmest circumstances. I would trust her to provide wise counsel.”
Robert nodded emphatically at that, but Renly was still feeling quarrelsome.
“She’s an intelligent child, yes, but there are limits. She may have acted brave on that day of treachery, but I saw her trembling form when she exited the sitting room after Ser Jaime’s attack. I would expect nearly all the ladies of the realm to act in the same manner, but in the end, she has a softness that makes her wisdom suspect. And our king is just doing whatever she says!”
The attempt to warg into Jaime had been horrible. It had felt wrong on a mental, physical, and… deeper level. I was attempting to use mind control on a human. It nauseated me how much that was akin to what Being X did with the Type-95 Orb. Despite Jaime’s questionable intelligence in hindsight, he had a formidable will. This was not something I wanted to test again, but through a combination of his own will, my disgust, and not truly knowing what I was doing, I had been badly drained by the effort.
I would have tried to fake it anyway, but it probably wouldn’t have been as believable or noticeable to the likes of Renly. I am glad Robert listen when I begged him not to brag about my deeds. Telling him I was only now getting along better with the ladies of court and feared that they would look at me differently if they knew I slew a guard with the help of Visha instead of it just being Visha’s acts had convinced him. My plea landed well when I spoke of how the southern ladies were not raised like Starks and I didn’t want to appear even more alien to them.
Varys tittered. “And yet she and her sister remain a hostage against her father’s good behavior. Tongues are wagging over that. Lord Stark’s suspicions of Ser Kevan’s kin seemed to have found cause, even if he was not quite on the mark. If a betrothal can be arranged, I’m sure Lady Sansa will stay. But what of Arya?”
Robert looked guilty. “I… I was going to wait on that. Sansa is close to her sister, it would feel wrong to split them apart. I’ve wronged Ned. Though I’ll remind you lot that he did refuse my orders as Hand and he was the one who threw that honor back at me. Bah, enough talk. I am eager to see what Sansa will decide on who to wed.”
Ugh.
Author's Note: The meeting that would not end. Can't believe this chapter ended up being so long!