Casterly Rock, Westerlands
Tywin Lannister sat in his solar. Across from him, Kevan Lannister waited patiently. Tywin had summoned him without explanation, which usually meant something of importance had occurred.
Without a word, Tywin picked up a rolled parchment and tossed it onto the table.
"Read this," he commanded.
Kevan caught the roll "What is this?"
"My spy's reports on recent events in King's Landing. Read it and tell me what you think." Tywin commanded.
Kevan began reading. His brows kept rising up as he read. He was shocked. "By the Seven," Kevan muttered. "He killed them all."
"It was more of a massacre," Tywin said "Like a battle between sheep and wolves. You can guess the result."
"But making an enemy of the Faith…" Kevan hesitated. "That will create problems down the line. The Starks have truly crossed the line this time."
"You are thinking in the wrong direction, Kevan," Tywin said "While what you said is true, it does not matter. The primary issue here is not what the Starks did, but how the Faith became bold enough to challenge and capture a prominent lord like Eddard Cailstark in the first place. Giving too much power to religion is suicidal—even if they seize it for themselves. The Faith should never be allowed enough power to challenge the Crown."
Kevan realized his mistake. "I apologize, brother. I did not think of it that way." He glanced back at the parchment. "But the sudden uprising of the Faith, first time after the reign of Maegor Targaryen, and then their quick and brutal annihilation—it is surprising. Do you think someone is using the Faith as a puppet?"
Tywin said "Now you are thinking properly. The Faith wouldn't have done something this reckless on their own. Especially under the current High Septon. Somebody pushed them into doing this. And whoever it was, did not think clearly."
Kevan blinked. "What do you mean? Clearly, this has created a rift between the Faith and the North."
Tywin said "You are still not thinking hard enough, Kevan. If it had been any other house attacking the Faith, it would have been a problem. Hate to say it, but outside the North—and to an extent, Dorne—the Faith holds considerable power. If the Lannisters, the Tyrells, the Arryns, the Tullys, or the Baratheons had done this, the Faith could have condemned them, turning the smallfolk and other lords against them. It would have been a disaster."
Kevan realized. "But the Northern houses do not follow the Faith. They will suffer no consequences from this."
"Precisely," Tywin said. "Whoever thought to use the Faith as a tool clearly did not consider that they were provoking the one faction in Westeros that does not care about the Faith's authority. They set a trap for the Starks—and the Starks tore through it without hesitation."
Kevan let out a low whistle. "And what of Robert? How did he react when his friend was taken?"
Tywin said "According to Pycelle, he was furious. So furious that he lifted his hammer again."
"Understandable," Kevan mused. "And then?"
"Cersei along with Jon Arryn, surprisingly—convinced him to go to negotiations rather than wage war against the Faith immediately."
Kevan nodded approvingly. "Smart of her. No need to create unnecessary risks for Joffrey. After all, the King is the Defender of the Faith. But Jon Arryn's involvement is unexpected."
"He is a peace-loving fool," Tywin said "But he is doing a commendable job in keeping Robert in check, given what kind of man Robert is. But the negotiations failed. That was when the new Warden of the North arrived in King's Landing to swear fealty to Robert, having come of age."
Kevan stated "Aryan Stark."
Tywin said "Yes. And knowing what he did on the Iron Islands and Skagos, he would not have taken kindly to those who harmed his family. And Robert—being Robert—likely gave him free rein."
Kevan exhaled. "And the result was a bloodbath."
"Indeed."
After sometime Kevan asked, "What do you want me to do?"
Tywin said "Pycelle's reports are useful, but not enough. And Cersei's information is… unreliable. I need a better source inside the Red Keep."
Kevan immediately understood. "You want me to send someone."
"Send your son, Lancel," Tywin ordered. "I will arrange for him to become Robert's squire."
Kevan said. "As you command."
After a moment, he added, "I heard you are rebuilding our fleet."
Tywin leaned back. "The dwarf is proving unexpectedly competent in Lannisport. I have decided it is time to put our wealth to proper use."
What he did not say was that he had done what no Lannister before him had done—he had become a customer of the Iron Bank.
Highgarden, The Reach
"This is a disaster! How dare those savages attack the High Septon and his followers? The poor High Septon has been mutilated! And now the Faith is asking for our help to take revenge, as they should!" Mace Tyrell ranted. His face was flushed.
Wilas sat on a nearby chair, listening to his father's endless complaints. Things had not been pleasant in the Reach as of late. Ever since the violent confrontation between the High Septon and the Starks in King's Landing, the Faith had been in an uproar. As the Reach was the heart of the Faith of the Seven, its effects were felt more keenly here than anywhere else. There was pressure on the lords to act, to answer the outrage.
"We cannot blame the Starks for what they did, Father. The Faith should not have taken Lord Eddard hostage," Wilas tried to say, though he knew it was futile. Mace continued his tirade.
The door to the solar opened suddenly, followed by the tapping of a cane. Wilas glanced up and immediately felt relieved. His grandmother had arrived. If anyone could put an end to Mace's ranting, it was Olenna Tyrell.
Olenna entered the room, supported by Margaery, with Alerie Tyrell following close behind. Alerie held the youngest member of the Tyrell family in her arms—baby Daena, only two months old. Of all the Tyrell children, only Daena had inherited the purple eyes of her Hightower lineage. Alerie, who had been somewhat withdrawn in the past years, seemed to have found renewed joy in caring for the child.
Wilas immediately stood to greet them.
"You look angry, Mace. Is something wrong?" Olenna asked, though she already knew the answer.
Predictably, Mace erupted again, spewing his grievances in a fresh tirade. Olenna listened with an expression of mild amusement, her eyes betraying her distaste. Wilas could see it clearly—his grandmother took pleasure in watching Mace make a fool of himself. Sometimes, he wondered if she truly loved her son.
"Please calm down, Mace. Look, now you've upset little Daena," Alerie scolded gently as she fussed over the baby.
"Give her to me, Mother. I will take care of my little sister," Margaery offered, taking Daena from Alerie's arms and beginning to sing to her softly.
Olenna said to Mace. "Why don't you go to your brother? He wanted to speak to you about the new tourney."
Mace's blustering halted at once. "Yes, you are right, Mother. He must need my advice!" He puffed up with importance and marched out of the room.
The moment the door shut behind him, Olenna let out a dramatic sigh. "Finally! I thought he would never leave. The oaf never shuts up."
"Mother, what are you saying? He is your son," Alerie said.
"Sometimes, I wonder if he hit his head somewhere when he slipped down my legs," Olenna muttered dryly.
Wilas choked on his drink, while Alerie and Margaery winced.
Olenna continued, "I love my son dearly. But his stupidity may very well bring the Reach to ruin." She turned to Wilas. "Is the Faith still troubling us?"
"Very much so," Wilas replied, pushing forward a stack of parchments. "These are… not-so-subtle requests and reminders to take action against the North. There are also many missives from various lords on the same matter."
"I am still not clear on what exactly happened," Alerie said, frowning. "Why is the Faith suddenly so ardent about taking action against the North?"
Wilas sighed and recounted the events that had unfolded in King's Landing.
"So the High Septon attempted to take Lord Eddard Cailstark captive to force the North to convert to the Faith," Alerie concluded.
"And it spectacularly backfired on them," Olenna said.
"Surely, they could have negotiated a peaceful solution…" Alerie mused.
Margaery interrupted, "I thought King Robert was Lord Eddard's best friend. Surely, he could have done something?"
"My dear girl, let me explain something to you," Olenna said "No lord, not even the king, is bold enough to engage in direct conflict with the Faith. After all, the king is the Defender of the Faith. But from what I have heard, Robert Baratheon was willing to fight. He even took up his hammer again. The Hand and the Queen managed to dissuade him. Smart of Cersei, I must say. If Robert had acted on impulse, it could have led to an uprising—a problem neither he nor the monarchy needed."
"Still, the negotiations failed," Alerie pointed out.
"And thank the gods for that, what happened was for the best" Olenna said.
Wilas frowned. "What do you mean, Grandmother?"
"Consider this," Olenna began, "first, unlike the other kingdoms, the North will suffer no real consequences for their actions. Almost all Northerners follow the Old Gods. The Faith holds no sway there. Second, despite all the bloodshed, Aryan Stark does not seem to have earned a bad name in King's Landing. Quite the opposite, in fact. He exposed the High Septon's corruption and distributed the wealth he found to the poor. The septas who remained have also turned against the High Septon. Thirdly, and most importantly, Robert Baratheon is not going to punish the Starks. If anything, he is likely amused by the whole affair."
"That is all well and good," Wilas admitted. "But what are we to do about the Faith pressuring us here?"
"Hmm… There is little we can actually do," Olenna said thoughtfully. "We may have the largest army in the Seven Kingdoms, but marching against the North is out of the question. However… I have an idea. Weren't you invited to Winterfell to see about your leg?"
Wilas blinked, startled by the sudden shift in conversation. "Ah… Yes. I nearly forgot about that."
"Perfect," Olenna said. "You will go to Winterfell. We will spread word that you are traveling as an emissary of the Faith. By the time you return, this issue will have cooled down."
"If you think so…" Wilas said hesitantly.
"Can I go too, Grandmother?" Margaery asked excitedly "I have never been north of King's Landing."
"Hmm. Very well," Olenna agreed. "Take your mother with you as well. Since Loras has gone to King's Landing with Renly, I suppose Garlan and his wife, Lady Leonette, will accompany you."
"Are you sure? So many of us traveling into unknown territory…" Wilas hesitated.
"We must show that the Tyrells are taking this matter seriously," Olenna replied. "As for safety, you need not worry. The Starks are not the Lannisters. You will be safe."
"Thank you, Mother," Alerie said. "It will be good to see new places. Perhaps I can visit my sister Lynesse as well." Her expression faltered. "But Mace will never allow it."
"That is true," Olenna admitted. "Mace Tyrell is a controlling fool who keeps his wife confined like a prize cow." She smirked. "But leave that oaf to me."
Kingslanding, The Crownlands
The Hand had finally called for a Small Council after the events of past days.
Robert Baratheon was very angry that day but cooled down very quickly. He had even visited the Great Sept of Baelor and had taken a grim satisfaction in seeing the corpses. Petyr had made sure to accompany the King. On seeing the now mutilated High Septon, Robert suddenly flew into a rage. Petyr had secretly offered the King to have the High Septon disposed of, to which the King readily agreed. Not only was he able to gain the King's favor, but he was also able to tie his loose ends.
But this was not how it was supposed to happen, Petyr thought as he walked to attend the meeting. Eddard Stark was to die. Relations between the North and King's Landing were to be worsened. A rift should have been formed, and Petyr would step in, mending relations and thus elevating himself. And he would get back his Cat.
But everything had gone down the drain from there he thought bitterly. While he knew Robert Baratheon would not go against the Faith even if he wanted to, since he was supposed to be the Defender of the Faith, the others were able to discourage the King from killing the Faith Militants himself. Every other lord in Westeros would think twice before dealing with the Faith. But he did not expect Aryan Stark to arrive at that exact moment. Nor did he expect the Bloody Wolf to live up to his name again. Not only did he deal with the Faith quite efficiently, but he was also able to redirect all the fault towards the High Septon. Since the Northerners did not follow the Seven, he was not going to face any problems.
So yes, most of Petyr's plans had failed. But he had salvaged whatever remained, through which he was able to regain the King's favor. By then, he reached the doors of the room. He brought the usual smile to his face as he stepped in. All the Small Council members had returned. Even Renly had been called back.
As soon as he took his seat, Robert Baratheon came and sat down.
"Brother. It is good to see you," Renly said, greeting him.
But contrary to everyone's expectation, Robert thundered at his favorite brother "You little shit. I am not glad to meet you. I made you the Master of Laws here to teach you some responsibility, but you spend your time with the Tyrells. If you were here and had taken your charge seriously, my friend would not have to suffer at the hands of those religious cunts."
Renly cowered in fear but still managed to say, "I am sorry, brother. But it is resolved now, isn't it?"
"No thanks to you, Renly. The northerners had to rescue themselves as we stood helpless," Stannis said, grinding his teeth.
"I suggest a more competent Master of Laws, unlike the current one who runs away at trouble. I know Ser Adam Marbrand. A true knight in every word," Cersei chimed.
Robert ignored her and instead continued at Renly, "From now on, until I say so, you will not leave King's Landing. You will do your duties here dutifully. Understand?"
"But I have an important tourney to attend in the Reach in a few weeks," Renly tried feebly.
Robert threw the glass he had in his hand at Renly, shouting, "Fuck the tourney. You will find that there is more to your favorite brother than you know, Renly. Now get out of my sight."
Renly quickly scampered away, his face red in embarrassment. The Queen, who had been scowling since Robert ignored her suggestion, now wore a smirk on her face. Petyr could not fault her. After all, what happened to Renly was entertaining.
Jon Arryn immediately took charge and asked Varys, "Lord Varys, what do you know about the reaction of the Faith regarding the recent events?"
"Well, Lord Hand, while the recent events were quite surprising, I must say it has gained quite interesting consequences," Varys began.
"Cut the shit, Eunuch. Get to the point," Robert shouted impatiently.
Varys did not show any displeasure and instead continued. "I was able to learn from my sources that the High Septon was right. While the Faith of the Seven is rapidly decreasing in the North, it is also gradually decreasing through the Riverlands and the Vale. The concern of the Faith is valid to a certain extent."
"But that does not give them any right to do what they did," Stannis said.
"Yes, Lord Stannis. From what I heard from my birds, most people in King's Landing hated the High Septon. He was quite corrupt," Varys said.
"And why are we hearing about this only now?" Jon Arryn asked.
Lazily, Cersei answered, "Because of an incompetent Master of Laws."
"Along with the Septas speaking in favor of Lord Aryan Stark and public distribution of the High Septon's hidden money, I must say the people's opinion of the Starks has just gone up," Varys said.
"We should have taken the money for the Royal Treasury. Aryan Stark did not have any right to give away that much to the smallfolks," Cersei said.
"I agree, My Queen. With that amount of money, which I was able to roughly calculate to be more than a million, it surely could have been helpful in removing our debt," Petyr decided to add his suggestion. The Royal Treasury was now only a million dragons in debt. But Petyr knew that it would change. Both the King and Queen could easily spend the money, and the Kingdom would be back to a high amount of debt. He knew how to do that.
"Your Grace, that money was fleeced from the poor, devoted people by the corrupt High Septon. So in my opinion, that money rightfully belongs to them," Ser Barristan Selmy spoke.
"I am not asking your opinion, Ser," Cersei started.
"Ser Barristan is a member of the Small Council. His advice is valuable and considered, unlike some," Robert said, eyeing Jaime. Cersei flushed an angry shade of red.
"Regardless, that money is gone. We cannot get it back without making ourselves tyrants," Jon Arryn said.
"My little birds tell me that the Faith is putting a lot of pressure on the Lords of the Reach. As you know, the Faith holds more power in the Reach than anywhere else. There have been demands to take action against those 'tree-worshipping savages' in their words. The Tyrells have sent a party consisting of their own family to the North to discuss matters with the Starks," Varys spoke.
"I doubt it will make any difference," Jaime scoffed.
"But why the whole Tyrell family?" Cersei asked.
"I have heard that Wilas Tyrell is going for treating his damaged leg," Varys said.
They continued to discuss more on that when Robert got bored and asked, "Anything else, Varys?"
"Another piece of news is that Prince Doran's estranged wife has returned a few weeks ago," Varys finished.
The meeting was finished soon as everyone started to disperse. But Petyr was thinking. Why do I get the feeling that Dorne is going to get interesting soon?
Riverlands
The Riverlands had always been an unstable region. Unlike the North, the Vale, or Dorne, it lacked natural defenses. With no mountains or seas to shield it, the Riverlands had always been a battleground. Before Aegon's Conquest, it was ruled by a hundred warring River Kings, each fighting for dominance, only to be subdued by House Hoare of the Iron Islands. For nearly a century, the region suffered under the tyranny of Harren the Black, until Aegon Targaryen came with fire and blood.
It was House Tully that welcomed Aegon, leading the Riverlords in rebellion against the Ironborn. When Harrenhal burned, Aegon rewarded the Tullys, naming them Lords Paramount of the Trident.
For three centuries, under the Targaryens, the Tullys ruled comfortably. But after the rebellion, the Riverlands were once again becoming unstable. Bandits and brigands grew bolder. House Frey and House Mallister struggled for dominance, each vying to be the second-most powerful house in the region. The age-old feud between the Blackwoods and the Brackens threatened to spiral into open war. House Darry, once loyal Targaryen supporters, still scorned their liege lords. And in the west, Tywin Lannister loomed like a storm cloud, ever a threat.
Lord Hoster Tully was well aware of these troubles, but he was helpless. He had tried to restore order but failed. He had once hoped his heir, Edmure, would rise to the challenge, but the boy was more interested in drinking and chasing wenches than ruling. The only solace Hoster had was his daughters' marriages—one to the North, the other to the Vale. Those alliances, he was certain, had secured House Tully's power.
Yet bandits remained a plague on the land.
And that was how Ser Brynden Tully found himself at a bandit camp along the banks of the Blue Fork, not far from the Kingsroad. Steel clashed in the morning light. Brynden blocked a wild swing, twisted his blade, and drove it through the bandit's throat. Blood spilled, and the man crumpled. Around him, his men finished off the remaining outlaws.
Brynden searched the battlefield. "Where is my squire?"
Samwell Tarly was standing nearby, sword in hand, his face pale. He was not built for killing—too soft, too timid. Even the village boys had more fire in them. But he was learning. Slowly.
Brynden had taken the boy to the Vale for training, hoping that real combat would harden him. So far, it hadn't.
"That was the last of them, Ser Brynden," one of his men reported.
Brynden grunted. Another soldier ran up. "We found some prisoners, Ser. Looks like a merchant family."
Brynden turned to Sam. "Go free them. Bring them here."
The boy hesitated, then nodded and hurried off.
A short while later, Sam returned, followed by a family of five—a middle-aged man, his wife, two daughters, and a young son, no older than five. The man rushed forward, his voice thick with gratitude.
"Ser, you have our thanks! If you hadn't come, they would have killed me. And my wife... my daughters... " His voice broke. "It would have been worse for them."
Brynden agreed. Bandits rarely killed without first amusing themselves. Some were depraved enough to go after boys, too.
"I was doing my duty as a knight," Brynden said simply.
The merchant gave a bitter laugh. "If every knight did his duty, perhaps the roads would be safer."
Brynden ignored the jab. "You don't look like Riverlanders. Nor smallfolk. Where are you from?"
"I am a cloth merchant from King's Landing, Ser. Heading north for better opportunities."
Samwell blinked in surprise. "You're leaving King's Landing for the North?"
The merchant's wife spoke up. "Yes. We are tired of the Faith. They demand alms we cannot afford. The Gold Cloaks harass us at every turn. And the taxes inside the city are unbearable. But most of all, after what Lord Stark did to the Faith, we knew it was time to leave."
Brynden frowned. "We've been in the field for weeks. What happened?"
"You haven't heard?" The merchant looked astonished. "The whole realm is talking about it!"
And so, he told them.
By the end of it, Brynden was impressed. Aryan Stark, you crafty bastard.
"The Faith had the nerve to do that in the king's presence?" one of his men muttered.
"He was probably too drunk or balls-deep in a whore to notice," another quipped.
Brynden shot them a hard look. "That's enough. Speak ill of the king, and you'll find yourself in the black cells."
His men fell silent, but he could see they were just as disturbed as he was. The Faith had power in the Riverlands. If they felt emboldened enough to act against Lord Eddard Cailstark, they could cause trouble here as well. Most of the local septons were good men, but it was best to be prepared.
Brynden turned back to the merchant. "Come with us to Riverrun. Then head for the Twins and cross quickly. The roads are not safe here." He hated to admit it, but the North was far safer than his own lands. Considering the punishment given to the bandits there...
Then he said to his men, "Get ready. We're heading back to Riverrun. We may be needed."
His soldiers obeyed, moving swiftly. Brynden took one last look before mounting his horse.