( Ser Ilyn Payne POV )
Very few men had any reason to call Lord Tywin Lannister kind. Rather the opposite, his humorlessness and cruelty were somewhat games throughout the realm, in no small part due to his own funding of mummers to play "The Rains of Castamere" in every tavern in the seven kingdoms. Promoting a song about how you drowned a noble household alive tends to build a reputation.
Still, Ilyn was one of those very few men who had a reason to feel otherwise. He had offended the king and lost his tongue for it. A mute, Lord Lannister had taken him into his household and paid his debt to him in full as far as he was concerned. He'd be a Lannister man til death from that alone. He didn't consider himself an honorable man by any means, but you'd have to be a worthless dog to repay that kindness with less than loyalty.
Still, since he'd arrived at Casterly Rock, he'd found himself somewhat limited in duties. The Rock already had plenty of guardsmen, a Captain, and a Master At Arms. Ilyn certainly wasn't satisfied with a position below his status. He had been the captain of the guard for the Hand of the King, after all.
So instead he found himself with little to do, taking a pension from the Lannisters and rotting away in a pleasant but unremarkable room. Oh, he went out and trained in the yard to keep his skull sharp, but it was his mind that was rotting. There was nothing to do, nothing to challenge him, and men dismissed him as if he wasn't there. They forgot that he was mute, not deaf.
Perhaps it was that rot, or the overwhelming boredom that accompanied it, that made him more amenable when his Lord's second son came to visit him in his chambers.
Ilyn was stewing at the time, brooding as he watched the torches of Lannisport blazing away under a blanket of snow below. It had been a long winter thus far, though the Westerlands had seen only periodic snow. Like the reach, and to a lesser extent the Iron Islands, the Westerlands were shielded from the worst of winter by a warm wind that blew in off the sunset sea in all seasons, carrying with it warm rains and strong gales.
The man was gazing out over the Lannisport, some thousand feet below at the base of the Rock, when a polite tapping echoed at his chamber door.
Ilyn tried to say "Come in" almost reflexively, but his tongueless mouth only produced a rasping hiss, and he cringed in anger. Some days he felt it would have been better if Aerys killed him.
So instead, he stood from his desk, and moved from the window to the door, opening it to find the lordling staring up at him. His long blond hair was carefully braided into a neat ponytail on the back of his head, and he looked for all the world a cute child, so Ilyn didn't rebuke him, only stared down at him placidly, trying to convey the question "what do you want" with pure facial expression.
"Good evening, Ser Ilyn." The boy greeted, looking about as serious as a young child could be. "Do you mind if I come in?"
Ilyn paused for a moment, looking down at the boy. On the one hand, he hated children. On the other, the boy was Lord Tywin's son.
Sighing, he stepped back from the door and gestured inside with a hand. He wasn't particularly happy about it though, something that surely showed on his face.
"Thank you." The boy nodded, shutting the door behind him. "I've got a few questions to ask you, and an offer to make, so it'd be awkward to speak in the doorway."
Ilyn raised an eyebrow, returned to his chair by the window, and sat down, letting the boy have his say. The lordling might be annoying, but at least he'd gone out of his way to talk to Ilyn. Very few people bothered talking to him these days. He motioned for the boy to continue.
The boy nodded. "Ah, well, first off, I understand that you were my Father's captain of the Guard back in King's Landing. I'm making some assumptions here, so if you could ehm… nod your head if it's something that was part of your job as captain of the guard, and shake it side to side if it was not?"
Ilyn stared at the boy.
"Thumbs up and thumbs down then?"
Ilyn raised his thumb.
"Very good." the boy pulled out a sheet of paper and began to read. "I understand that you were responsible for managing a large group of guards, as aside from the King'sguard proper, the Red Keep's guards are assigned to the Hand, is that correct?"
A thumbs up. Ilyn had commanded nearly a hundred subordinates. More if you counted washerwomen, servants, and such.
"Good, alright" The boy made a small mark on his paper. "I assume you commanded more than just guards as well, that many men need additional help if they're to be suitable guards."
Ilyn gave another thumbs up. He was enjoying this now that the boy was asking about his work. It reminded him that he had actually been quite an important man, before the King's tantrum.
The boy made another mark and continued. "Alright, and you worked directly for my father?"
He gave the boy a thumbs up.
"Did my father ever ask you to collect intelligence for him? That is, did he have you report on what your subordinates were saying, or had heard?"
Ilyn blinked. He had of course, but spying in the red keep… well everyone did it, but that didn't mean you admitted to it. Still, this was his lord's son, so he supposed there was no harm in acknowledging it. He gave the boy a thumbs up.
"Excellent." The small boy's voice dripped with eagerness as his smile grew wider. "And did you use that process to dig up specific bits of intelli- gossip or information, for my father I mean?"
Ilyn paused, a bit uncomfortable at the inquiry, but slowly raised his thumb. He was curious about where the boy was going. It was certainly the first time he'd met a child who was interested in these things.
"Damn, and Father was letting you waste away down here?" The boy shook his head, blinking. "Well, I suppose you deserve the pension but still, I can't believe he left a perfectly good spymaster sitting at Casterly Rock doing nothing."
Ilyn blinked, he raised his hands in front of himself and waved them back and forth. He wasn't a spymaster. He was a guard captain! Those were completely different things.
The lordling rolled his green eyes.
"Whatever you want to call yourself, I've got a position to offer you. I need ears, and eyes as well, but mostly ears, outside of the Rock. I'm a child still, but an impatient one, I want to know more about the Westerlands, I've got plans but I won't know how feasible they are until I have some actionable intelligence to work with." The boy scratched his cheek. "You're a reliable sort, highly qualified, and not currently doing anything. Why not work for me instead? My father's already paying you."
Ilyn paused for a moment. He… actually liked the sound of that offer. It wasn't exactly as honorable a position as captain of the guard, but working as a spymaster for this… frightening child wasn't a terrible idea. It at least recognized his abilities and put him in a position of power and authority. It was something he'd been missing during his time in the Rock.
Still, there was one issue.
Ilyn pointed at his mouth.
The boy blinked.
"Er, that's… can you read and write?"
Ilyn gave him a thumbs down.
The boy frowned, and Ilyn was sure he saw fires dancing behind his green eyes.
"Well if that's all, then that's something I can fix. Work for me and I'll teach you your letters."
Ilyn glanced down at the paper the boy had been writing on. Neat flowing script he couldn't understand at all stared back in the dim torchlight.
The knight shrugged. Even if this was all a childish fancy, it still beat doing nothing.
The boy smiled again when he gave him a thumbs up. "Perfect, we'll start tomorrow at dawn, top of the high watchtower."
Ser Ilyn Payne nodded. He'd be there.
...
Chronicle of the Targaryen Dynasty in the Seven Kingdoms
Maester Willem
274 AC- Fifth moon
King Aerys II Targaryen's youngest son, Jaeharys Targaryen, dies of poisoning at only three moons old. King Aerys has the wet nurse responsible for protecting the boy beheaded. King Aerys then confirmed by means of torture that the family of his mistress, one Holenna Loenn, had conspired to kill the boy.
The Loenn household was thus tortured to death and is now extinct. King Aerys now refuses to eat any food, nor consume any drink, having entered a fast to mourn his son's passing after the funeral rights were finished. Additionally, Lord Ronald Connington of Griffin's Roost fathered a son and heir, Ronnet Connington, by his wife Molla Connington.
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