Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Planting Seeds

…

Third POV 

The marketplace in Lannisport was alive with energy, the smell of freshly baked bread mingling with the tang of salted fish and the sweet aroma of fruit. Merchants called out their wares from stalls that lined the cobbled streets, their voices competing with the hum of the crowd. 

Richard and Alicent walked side by side, the sun casting a warm glow over them as they moved through the bustling sea of people.

Alicent's smile was bright as Richard bought her a few books and a delicate piece of jewelry, a simple silver chain that sparkled against her neck. She thanked him with a soft touch to his arm, her happiness evident. 

As they moved from stall to stall, Richard's hands moved with practiced ease, slipping into the pockets and pouches of passersby without a single person noticing.

Coins exchanged into Richard hands faster than anyone could react, and yet his face remained calm, unbothered by the small thefts he committed as they walked. 

Alicent was unaware of his light-fingered deeds, lost in her joy as she admired the simple luxuries he was able to give her now. But as they continued through the crowded marketplace, her mood shifted. Her smile faded, and Richard noticed the change immediately.

Following her gaze, Richard saw what had captured her attention—a young boy, who looked 9 namedays, sitting by the side of the street, ragged and thin. On his lap was a little girl, barely five namedays, her clothes dirty and her cheeks pale. The boy held out a trembling hand, silently asking for help as people walked by, not sparing them so much as a glance.

Richard glanced at Alicent, her face soft with sympathy. She had always had a heart for the downtrodden, for those who reminded her of their own time on the streets. He knew what she was thinking before she even spoke.

"Do you want to help them?" Richard asked, his voice quiet as he watched her.

Alicent nodded without hesitation, but there was something more in her eyes—a deeper thought behind the immediate compassion she felt.

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Nothing is free, you know. If we were to help them, they'll have to repay us somehow."

Alicent didn't respond right away. Instead, she gave it a long, thoughtful silence, her eyes still fixed on the boy and the girl. She had learned much over the years, watching how the world worked in the streets, how nothing came without a cost. But when she spoke, it wasn't what Richard expected.

"With your powers… can't you become a leader? Like Rodric was?" Her voice was quiet but steady, the suggestion catching Richard off guard.

He blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in her thinking. The idea hadn't even crossed his mind, but now that she said it, something stirred within him. 

He remembered the memories of John Falcon—the scenes of a movie where a child, born into nothing, rose to control a vast criminal empire. The respect, the fear, the power—it had all come from being relentless, from taking what others wouldn't dare to.

Richard's mind raced as he considered it. Leading a group? He was fast enough, strong enough, and people feared what they didn't understand. What if he could take what Rodric had left behind and do it better—on his own terms? The thought was intoxicating in its possibilities.

He glanced back at the boy on the street, then at Alicent, her face still soft with kindness. But there was also a sharpness in her now, an understanding that survival sometimes meant making hard choices.

Richard gently patted her on the shoulder, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "You've just given me an idea," he said, his voice low, carrying a hint of something darker.

Alicent looked up at him, curiosity flickering in her blue eyes, but she didn't ask what he meant. She trusted him, and for now, that trust was enough.

Richard and Alicent moved slowly toward the boy and girl huddled by the street corner. The boy noticed them approaching, his eyes widening as he took in their noble attire—clean clothes, fine fabric. He reached out a trembling hand, his voice small and desperate. 

"Please, sir," the boy begged. "Give me some coin. Me and my sister are hungry."

Richard crouched down, his gaze softening as he looked the boy in the eye. "What's your name?"

The boy hesitated, eyes darting between Richard and Alicent. "Humphrey," he said finally, his voice quiet. "And this is my sister, Myrielle. Please, milord, we haven't had any food in days."

Richard shifted his gaze to the little girl hiding behind her brother. Myrielle was tiny, barely three namedays old, her dark hair matted and her face streaked with dirt. She clung to Humphrey's back, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. Both children were gaunt, their sunken cheeks and thin limbs a testament to days—perhaps weeks—of hunger.

"I will help you, Humphrey," Richard said after a moment, his voice calm but firm. "I can get you and your sister off the streets, give you food and shelter. But in return, you must serve me."

Humphrey blinked, clearly surprised by the offer. His eyes flicked down as Richard tossed a gleaming silver coin into his hand. The boy stared at it in disbelief for a heartbeat, then quickly bowed his head.

"Thank you, milord! Thank you! I'll be your servant."

Richard patted both Humphrey and Myrielle gently on the head, his demeanor softening for a moment. He knew all too well what it was like to be in their position, struggling to survive on the streets, and there was a strange comfort in helping them now.

Alicent, who had been watching silently, smiled as she saw the exchange. Her heart warmed, seeing Richard extend a hand to those in need, especially those in the same situation as them. She had always known that beneath his sometimes hard exterior, there was a kindness in him—a desire to protect others.

"Let's get you two cleaned up," Richard said as he stood up and offered his hand to Humphrey.

The boy, still clutching his sister in one arm, hesitated only for a moment before accepting the hand and pulling himself to his feet. He held his sister tightly, her small form leaning against him for support.

"Follow along," Richard said, turning to continue his walk through the marketplace, Alicent by his side. Now, the two children trailed behind them, the weight of their hunger and desperation slowly easing with every step. 

Richard led Humphrey and Myrielle to a nearby food stall, where the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air. He bought them enough to sate their hunger, handing over pieces of bread and meat with a casual air, as if it were nothing. But to the two siblings, it was everything.

Humphrey devoured the food, tearing into the bread with fervor, while Myrielle, still shy and wary, nibbled slowly at her piece, her wide eyes never leaving Richard's face. As their hunger faded, the exhaustion in their faces seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet awe.

They looked at Richard with something more than gratitude now—there was respect in their eyes, a kind of reverence. To them, Richard wasn't just a noble who had tossed them a few coins. He was something greater.

Humphrey swallowed the last bite of bread and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced at his sister, who was still watching Richard as if waiting for some divine word from him. 

"Thank you, milord," Humphrey said, his voice stronger now, filled with sincerity. "We'll do whatever you ask. We owe you our lives."

Richard, sensing their growing loyalty, nodded but said nothing. He didn't need to speak; the exchange had already bound them to him in ways words could not.

Alicent, standing beside him, noticed the change in the children's demeanor. She saw the way they looked at Richard now, as if he were a beacon of hope, a leader they could follow. She smiled softly to herself, recognizing the power Richard held—not just in his abilities, but in the way he could inspire loyalty and devotion.

They continued through the market, the two children followed closely behind, no longer just beggars, but willing followers. And Richard knew, with every step they took, that this was only the beginning of something far greater.

As they moved through the busy streets of Lannisport, Richard's mind was already churning. This was the beginning. Humphrey and Myrielle were just the first. There were countless others like them, children without homes, without food, without purpose. With his power, he could gather them, give them a place, and in return, they would serve him. It was the start of something much larger, something he had never imagined before.

Alicent glanced at him, catching the glint of determination in his eyes. She didn't say anything, but she knew Richard was already thinking ahead, his mind racing with plans and possibilities. The city bustled with life around them, but in Richard's mind, a new path was forming—one that could change everything.

…

Joanna Lannister POV

I sat in the opulent solar of Casterly Rock, bathed in the golden light streaming through the high, narrow windows. 

The room was richly appointed, with tapestries of Lannister crimson and gold hanging from the walls, their lion sigils casting shadows across the floor. Despite the wealth and grandeur surrounding me, my mood was far from regal.

As I stared at the stack of papers before me, willing my mind to focus on the matters at hand, my thoughts kept drifting back to what I had witnessed earlier that day. 

My twins, Jaime and Cersei, barely in their sixth nameday, had been caught in an embrace—kissing each other like lovers, not siblings. The sight shook me to the core. I had scolded them, of course, but the unease lingered.

It was more than just the impropriety; there was something dark in the way they clung to each other, something possessive. It made my skin crawl, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was only the beginning of greater troubles to come. 

A pang of guilt pierced my heart, sharp and bitter, as I thought of my children. Jaime and Cersei, so close since birth, had always been inseparable. I had done my best to allow them their bond, but lately, their closeness, once innocent, now felt almost unnatural.

It was for that reason I had made the difficult decision to separate them within the walls of Casterly Rock. I had arranged their chambers as far apart from each other as I could. 

Cersei's room was placed in the eastern wing, where the sun poured in through the windows, lighting the space in gold from dawn till dusk. Jaime's was on the western side, overlooking the cliffs, where the sea crashed relentlessly against the stone.

They hadn't understood, of course. They had protested, confusion and hurt evident in their eyes. It wasn't easy, but I told myself it had to be done. They needed time apart to grow as individuals. 

Yet, as the mother in me struggled with the logic of that decision, the lioness in me bristled with a deeper fear. There was something darker beneath their bond, a possessiveness I didn't want to admit, even to myself. 

I had caught them more than once before, whispering in corners or holding hands in ways that set me on edge. No one else seemed to notice, or perhaps they did and said nothing. Maybe it was only a mother's paranoia, heightened by Tywin's absence and the mounting pressures of our house. Guilt gnawed at me.

Here I was, in the heart of my family's stronghold, yet I felt the threads of our future unraveling around me. I had separated my children, and for what? I wished to protect them, yet my actions felt like a betrayal. The weight of my responsibilities pressed down on me, leaving me feeling trapped between duty and maternal instinct, between the love for my children and the fear of what they might become. 

In that moment, I resolved to keep a closer watch on them, to intervene if necessary. I couldn't allow their bond to darken further, and as their mother, it was my duty to guide them away from paths I feared they might tread. But as I pondered the challenges ahead, I knew that the battle to preserve my family had only just begun.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to bury the unsettling thoughts beneath the heavy weight of my duties. Also as if the trouble with my children weren't enough, a missive had arrived from King's Landing that morning. It was not just an invitation to court; it was a summons. My lips curled into a tight frown as I considered it. 

I knew Tywin expected me to come, to be by his side as the wife of the Hand of the King, but the thought of returning to the capital soured my mood. Tywin had been gone for moons, ever the dutiful Hand, and I missed him terribly. More than the distance, however, it was the presence of Aerys Targaryen that plagued my mind.

*That dragon.*

Aerys had tried to court me years ago, before my marriage to Tywin. He had been younger then, less vile perhaps, but no less arrogant. He had assumed that his Targaryen blood and princely title would be enough to win me over. 

He was wrong. I had been a lioness even then, proud and unbending. I had rebuffed him without hesitation, and it had stung his pride. I doubted he had ever forgiven me for it, though Tywin's presence at court had kept him in check—for now.

Still, the idea of facing Aerys again, especially with the rumors of his growing taste for other women other than his wife, did little to ease my mind. I had no desire to parade myself in front of him, no matter how much I longed to see Tywin again. The thought of him alone in that court, surrounded by danger, filled me with dread. 

As I sat in the dim light of my solar, a wave of anxiety washed over me, intertwining with the nagging guilt that clung to my thoughts about my children. Their bond, once a source of joy and pride, now felt like a portent of trouble looming on the horizon. The very thought of returning to King's Landing filled me with dread; I had no desire to be ridiculed or, worse, to become a target for King Aerys's unwanted attention. 

As these fears consumed me, I felt the shadows of the past creeping into the present, twisting everything I once held dear and leaving me feeling vulnerable and unsteady.

Suddenly, A sharp knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. One of my household guards entered, his face grim as he handed me a report. My brows furrowed as I unsealed it and began to read.

My mood, already dark, plummeted further.

The report detailed a disturbing rise in violent deaths in Lannisport. Over the past week, there had been a string of murders, each more gruesome than the last. 

But it was the most recent one that made my stomach churn. *Dozens dead in a single night.* The details were graphic—mangled corpses, bodies unrecognizable from the brutality of the attacks.

I felt a wave of nausea as I scanned the descriptions. The words "mutilation" and "slaughter" leapt off the page. It was as though a beast had been unleashed in Lannisport, something or someone preying on the city without mercy. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to gather myself.

"What in the Seven Hells is going on?" I muttered under my breath, tossing the parchment onto the desk.

It was unlike anything I had ever seen in Lannisport. Bandits and thieves, yes, but this? This was something darker. Something feral. My first instinct was to send word to Tywin, but he was in King's Landing, and Lannisport, for now, was My responsibility. I would have to handle this myself. 

Still, a feeling of dread gnawed at me, a sense that whatever was behind these murders was far more dangerous than anything I had faced before.

I sighed heavily, resting my elbows on the desk and burying my face in my hands. The weight of my duties pressed down on me like the stone above, the burdens of a Lannister in Casterly Rock. My children, my husband's absence, the shadow of Aerys, and now this bloodshed in Lannisport. It was enough to make anyone feel trapped.

I stood, pacing the length of my solar. I glanced out of the window, my gaze falling on the glittering city below, unaware of the horrors lurking in its streets. The city bustled with life, but beneath it, something monstrous lurked. 

And in that moment, for all my pride and power, I felt a ripple of fear.

…