IX.

Last moon of 297AC. Kings Landing, Blackwater Rush, Westeros.

"It all goes back and back. To our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance on in our steads." ASoS, Tyrion IX

Tyrion Lannister looked up from his books and shuddered. Although the room where he had stacked his books and scrolls was comfortable and welcoming, the sudden appearance of his squire startled him. Tyrion's legs were stiff and sore when he got up from the chair.

"Your outfit, my Lord" the boy murmured as he entered, looking at his boots. ' Even when he works up the courage to speak, Pod can never look people in the eye, let alone mine unevenly gaze'

Throwing him a questioning look, followed by silence, Podrick Payne understood that Tyrion expected to know the reason why he had been disturbed at dawn. "Lord Arryn has called the small council to a meeting urgently and your presence is requested, my lord."

"Very good. Help me to get dressed."

Tyrion dressed in the semi-darkness thrown by the first rays of sunlight of the day penetrating

through the window of his rooms. He was being helped by his squire, while listening to the soft and deep breathing of his wife still asleep in the bed they both shared.

'She's dreaming' thought Tyrion, when Tysha muttered softly a name, perhaps, though it was too faint to hear it, and then she turned on her side.

'Fortunately we haven't waked her up. Poor Pod if it turns out like that' Tyrion thought when he remembered how shy she had seemed when she lifted her dress above her head the first time they did so long ago. Her long dark hair, with eyes blue like the sea at Lannisport where one could drown in, and Tyrion did. Long time ago he drown in her. It cost him dear, but by the gods, he would do it again. 'Also, it has put me in the songs on a par with Duncan Targaryen. Even if it's to make fun of me, I love the title of Imp of Dragonflies and the Jenny of the Rock. For her I would have given up a crown if I would have had to do so in order to be with her.'

The doublet he was to wear for the occasion was black velvet covered with gold studs in the shape of lions' heads. It was accompanied by a cape of crimson silk with gold fringes, carved to his height. In a normal man, it would be no more than a half layer.

Before leaving, he took one last look at his wife who was asleep in the small rooms of both, which were above the Queen's Ballroom.

'I hope that when I come back from the meeting with those vultures I will have time to spend with her.' Tyrion mused inwardly, as he pondered what awaited him.

Despite the fact that Tyrion had been disinherited by his marriage to his commoner wife, after all, as his Lord father kept reminding him, he was a Lannister and had a duty to the legacy of his house. In Tyrion's case, this legacy consisted of being a kind of link between his father and the Crown, as well as being the person to whom the Crown turned to borrow from house Lannister.

'Really my only mission in life is to be a walking reminder so that Robert knows who he owes the coin and the Throne'.

That is why Tyrion was now on his way to the Small Council Chamber, to deal the information that had come to him from the Iron Bank.

Unfortunately for Tyrion, it was the death of the only person in his family who cared about him, which allowed him to have a position at court, and even keep the Lannister name after marrying Tysha.

'Although I sometimes would have loved to have Jaime in my life, the fact that he was the heir would have made my life more difficult even than it has been without him. Only Jaime's absence kept my father from completely disowning me from the family when I married Tysha. Who knows what would have happened to me with him still alive.'

Tyrion sighed as he began to walk the labyrinthine corridors from Maegor's Holdfast.

As he walked down the winding stairs that led down to his destination, sometimes he could almost

imagine hearing his bones grinding inside.

'Maybe I should see a maester, get some potion for pain.' But since Pycelle had revealed himself for what he was, a creature of Cersei and his father, Tyrion mistrusted the Maesters. 'The gods only know who they are conspiring with, or what they mix in those potions they give you.'

The greatest consolation of his life in Kings Landing with his wife, were Tyrion's niece and nephew. They had both grown apart from their mother for opposite reasons, and both had more

appreciation for Tyrion himself than for Robert, their own father.

Myrcella, whose healthy birth and survival at six months was considered a miracle by masters and septons alike became virtually ignored by Cersei since Tyrion's sister had Orys. When the crown prince born, he became the center of Tyrion's stupid sister's entire life. However, so much attention and overprotection, caused the opposite effect that Cersei intended on her son.

Instead of having a puppet as future King of Westeros, what Tyrion's sister had, was a son whom was more interested in fighting tourney's melees and associating with the commoners from Flea Bottom than getting involved in any ruling business.

'Seeing the null general interest that both have in Westerosi politics, no one can deny that they are father and son.' thought Tyrion when comparing father and son.

With the exception of his father's vices, Orys was a small version of Robert, but without the point of fury that sometimes invaded the King. Orys was tall and very muscular, with deep blue eyes and thick black hair, albeit with Cersei's cheekbones. He inherited stubbornness from his mother and father, being immovable in his decisions when he makes one.

'And if there is something clear my nephew has, is that he hates politics and the very idea of being the heir.'

Orys's personality often caused him to clash with his parents, especially when he turned to Robert to insist that Cella would be a better Queen than he King. Tyrion's nephew said that he was destined to collect the hammer's family heritage as a weapon to protect his older sister from whom he is extremely overprotective. Despite being brusque, stubborn and sometimes arrogant, he could be charming and courteous, but if offended he can also be fierce and proud.

Myrcella for her part is the Realm's Delight. Tyrion's niece had a shiny gold almost silver hair with curls, traditionally set in long back braids. Tyrion's niece has bright emerald eyes with purple traces like those in Tyrion's right eye. 'She is proof that I am not the only Lannister with purple in the eyes, apart from green.'

Myrcella is an angelic creature, with her lean and toned body, that towers over him by almost three heads.

'Cella is one of the few people that I don't mind being looked at from above. It has always felt right.' thought Tyrion proud of his niece.

His niece had all the beauty of her mother Cersei, but nothing of Cersei's nature. Cella is delicate, beautiful and courteous. Also she displayed courage, iron will, great intelligence, and a keen political mind. Sometimes you might think that there was nothing of Baratheon in her.

'And from what my Aunt Genna always tells me, physically Cella is an improved version of my mother, Joanna Lannister.'

As if this were not enough, Tyrion's niece has in her hand half of the lords present at the court. She has the ear of Robert and the support of the small folk from the city, whom adored Myrcella for her charities and her concern for the orphans.

For these reasons same, Tyrion hateful sister, Cersei, claimed to be looking with Robert for a second son to secure the line, but what she really wanted was a new toy that would allow her to gain power, because through Orys and Mycella she won't have any.

'Well, the first will give the power to his sister and the second would send Cersei to the Silent

Sisters.' thought Tyrion with a certain glee, knowing that his sister was not very misguided when it came to thinking about the fate that awaited her if the situation did not change radically.

As he reached the Council Chamber, Tyrion began to ponder with whom he was going to meet now. The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn seemed to be thrilled with life being the second most powerful man in Westeros. He was a good man, but he had a tendency to look away at what he didn't want to see. In addition, he always looked over his shoulder at his wife Tysha, as if she were an insignificant insect that did not paint anything walking around the Red Keep. The Hand's wife, Lysa Arryn, was even worse. No matter how many turns in his head Tyrion gave her, he could never understand what he had done to that woman. Not only was she openly hostile towards him and Tysha, but sometimes she was even hostile toward her husband, the Lord Hand.

'The only plausible explanation I can find for her, is that she is mad. What other reason is there for her to continue breastfeeding a seven-days of the name boy? '

The one who Tyrion knew for sure that would not be present was Stannis. The king's middle brother had not returned to Kings Landing for almost half a year, preferring to conduct his duty as Master of Ships from his seat in Dragonstone. Surely inside the Small Council Chamber would be Renly, the King's younger brother. Renly's position as Master of Laws forced him to be present in the city, in addition to enjoying Glamour and courtly games. Along with Jon Arryn and Renly, Ser Barristan would also be present as usual, as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

'To this ones, you must add the ineffable Baelish and the eunuch spider Varys.' Tyrion thought while he let out a long sigh, approaching what could await him.

In the cool white dress of the Kingsguard, Ser Mandon Moore looked like a corpse in a shroud.

Without moving a muscle in his expressionless face, he opened the door for Tyrion, giving way to the Council Chamber.

Tyrion walked through the door with all the resolve he could muster at that moment, as he stood to his full extent, trying to feel tall instead of shrinking in himself, at seeing those who were waiting for him.

Six members of the king's small council and the King himself, Tyrion's brother-in-law Robert Baratheon, were present.

It was the King, to Tyrion's present surprise, who broke up the argument in which they were immersed. At the sudden attention to his person, trying to appear casual and confident, Tyrion paused to admire the pair of Valyrian Sphinxes guarding the gateway to the Council Chamber.

'Baelish and Varys can smell weakness the same way a dog smells fear.'

"What does The small Lannister do at a small council meeting?" Renly Baratheon suddenly broke

the silence, asking mockingly.

"I have called him, to deliver something that was given to him yesterday, it is not Lord Tyrion?" Lord Arryn intervened in a slow and calm voice.

"Indeed Lord Hand. I have a scroll from the Iron Bank, delivered to me yesterday by their newly arrived representative in Westeros, expressly to hand-deliver to you." He said, as went to the table and placed the tight parchment before them.

The Eunuch Varys took the scroll and held it in his delicate powder-coated hands.

"What kind of affair does the Iron Bank has with House Lannister's financial advisor? His scale wax is such a lovely shade of gold and black." Varys said singly as he inspected the sealed seal. "It gives every appearance of being genuine."

"Of course it is genuine." Lord Jon Arryn quickly took it from the hands of the spider, and broke the sealing wax, unrolling the parchment.

Tyrion watched the Hand of the King read and his face wrinkling.

'If it says the same thing the envoy from the Iron Bank said to me, of course old Arryn is not going to like it. However, I think my father will be fascinated that Crown is to become even more indebted to him.'

Old Arryn began to read the letter in a monotonous and ominous voice to inform everyone present of its contents.

"The new management of the Iron Bank has taken a new direction in its economic guidelines. These will be oriented not only in pursuit of a greater benefit for our institution and its clients, but will have the purpose of creating a commercial area in the Free Cities and Essos. This new commercial area must operate businesses and industries based on the interest of the new bank management , in order to achieve greater benefits from the exchange of merchandise and products.

Asthe new management only sees debt and default in Westeros, and since the time of Aerys Targaryen the second of his name, the payment of the credits of the Crown is not frequent, the new direction sees no recourse other than demanding the immediate payment of the loans that the Crown has assumed with the Iron Bank. In turn, any credit relationship with the Crown or any house in Westeros will cease immediately .

The latter could only be avoided in two ways:

- The Crown will undertake to pay the three million in gold dragons that it has as a debt within a maximum period of twelve moons and will not be able to request more credits until the new direction considers it appropriate for the business, even if the debt becomes satisfied.

- The house Lannister, as the main investor of the Crown, will fully assume the debt of this with the Iron Bank, owing three million and the impossibility of carrying out any credit operation with our institution or others related to ours, until payment of the same.

Noho Dimittis, special representative of the Iron Bank." concluded the Hand of the King with a downcast voice.

"What does this mean Jon?!!" Asked a confused Robert.

"That we have to pay immediately the three million in debt we have with them or the Kingdoms will be in bankrupt. Is this so, lord Baelish?" Jon Arryn claimed more than asked as he cast a censorious look on the man he had promoted.

"Indeed my Lord Hand. I see that you are aware of the dramatic situation of the royal treasury "said the little man in a bombastic way "The Crown has a total debt of six million of gold dragons, therefore one way or another, it takes nine million dragons to suddenly appear." Baelish finished the financial situation report ironically and with a shrug.

"Do your magic, Baelish" Robert exclaimed, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the direction the Small Council meeting was taking.

'It seems that Jon Arryn wanted Robert to find out directly about the dramatic impact that this action of the Iron Bank can have on his reign.'

At last, Tyrion understood the presence of his brother-in-law at a meeting to which he had been summoned.

"Oh! Your grace, you don't know how flattering is that you think I do magic, but I'm only good at reading ledgers." said Baelish with false modesty and a casual gesture. "And they tell me that except in the event that his grace esteemed father-in-law Tywin Lannister assumes our debt, we have no other option but to be grateful that the only retaliation for not paying the Iron Bank of Braavos is not being able to ask for a loan again... Generally one way or another, they always win, so it is strange that there is no greater threat behind the demand for payment of the debt." said Baelish.

'Greater retaliation than it already threatens to take. Either Baelish underestimates the effect that it could have on the Crown and the great houses to stop receiving credits from the Iron Bank ... Or on the contrary, he is interested in plunging Westeros into ruin.'

Tyrion though meanwhile watched as the essosi eunuch like a maester, pulled out of one of his wide sleeves a small scroll rolled up before anyone could intervene.

The Spider seemed to have information to explain the reason for the absence of retaliation from the Iron Bank in the event that its debt was not paid.

"The whispers of my little birds in Essos tell me that the Iron Bank is surely claiming the debts from their clients to dispose of cash treasure in the event that Volantis, despite being currently ruled by the Elephants, tries something on the Three Whores. That is why the Golden Company is stationed in Volontherys." intoned Varys with a shudder.

"Surely the Iron Bank is accumulating gold to finance new wars in Essos that'll allow they to have greater control in the shadows over the Free Cities and trade with the Slaver's Bay. That is why it is rumored that they plan to finance the enemies of Volantis. A Volantis owning Tyrosh, Myr and Lys would not be in the best interests of the Iron Bank at all." Varys said with a crafty smile.

However, it seemed that The Spider had not finished telling everything he knew about the Iron Bank, as he was still staring at the Lord Hand, with the face of guarding something else.

"Lord Varys, what else do you want to say?" Said Lord Jon Arryn impatiently.

The master of whispers looked at Robert and then at Lord Arryn, half laughing, to tell them "On the other hand, the most incredible rumors have reached me, to which I have not given any credibility ..." Varys now laughed like a little girl.

"What are those rumors Varys?! Talk about a goddamn time without riddles by all the gods!" Robert abruptly cut in impatiently and imperatively

"One of my little birds some moons ago told me one of the most unlikely rumors that I had heard in my life. And until the arrival of this letter from the Iron Bank I had given it no credibility or importance ... that's why I did not share it with the council before." Varys said in a tone with a false apology and with an exaggerated bow towards Lord Arryn and Tyrion's brother-in-law Robert.

The King was beginning to despair by the ways of relating what Varys intended. Without stopping drumming his fingers on the huge ebony table and with a tone that seemed close to the end of his patience, Robert urged again the master of whispers to finish what he wanted to say aggressively.

"Come on, eunuch, stop all the false courtesy and tell me what you want to tell me once and for all, no matter how crazy the damn rumor that has reached you." demanded a now exasperated Robert Baratheon.

It seemed that this was what Varys wanted, an enraged Robert to receive the news he was going to transmit. Varys smiled and the warmth of his smile for once seemed to reach his eyes

"My little bird told me the story that about four moons ago, three gigantic dragons landed in Braavos, first razing the House of Black & White, and then perching on the square in front of the Iron Bank building. From the dragons they say that descended two men, a woman, a boy and a girl. Both men had silver hair ... and the boy carried a double banner. One of his sigils was the red rampant dragon with three heads on a black background of house Targaryen, while the other was a white rampant dragon, with a single head, giving off a red flame, all on a black background." Varys finished informing them in a melodious and singsong way, while showing a half smile.

Robert's reaction was to get up from his seat and hit the table so hard with his two hands that he could have split it had it been less thick. "House Targaryen???!!!!! It is impossible!! All the damn dragonspawns are dead!! Only the crazy stupid Viserys Targaryen and her sister remain! I myself took the life of the seven-time damn Rhaegar Targaryen!!" the violence in Tyrion's brother-in- law's tone and body attitude made Tyron flinch.

'If he now imposes that fear being a fat whoremonger and a drunken man, what he must have been on the Trident ... Without a doubt a Demon'

Tyrion wasn't the only one who flinched at Robert's sudden outburst of fury. Pycelle seemed to wake up from his slumber with a start, while at the mention of the late crown prince, Barristan made an almost imperceptible grimace of disgust, before showing his stoic traditional facade again. For his part, Renly had put on a half smile that could mean anything, now that he seemed to be

interested in the directions the council was taking, only by the reaction Robert had just had. Jon Arryn had a disgusted and tired face at the reaction of his king, so the Lord Hand decided to intervene to put sanity.

"Robert calm down. That must be gossip. We both know that there is only one male Targaryen left to be, and that is Viserys." said the old Lord of Vale in a way that seemed to be teaching his former ward once more in his life.

"Your grace if you will allow me one thing ..." The Spider interrupted, smiling smugly. When Robert nodded, Varys continued "We all know that the only people capable of taming a dragon are those with Targaryen blood. To the delight of everyone present, one of my little birds has told me that the two surviving Targaryens are still in Pentos, where Viserys plans to marry his sister to a Khal of the Dothraki, in exchange for helping him invade Westeros..." said Varys velvety, in what seemed like an attempt to fan the flames of hatred towards house Targaryen in Robert.

'Then my inept sister calls me a kinslayer, when I couldn't do anything to avoid mother's fate. Robert, on the other hand, is king, and seems to want to exterminate his own grandmother's family, although said family currently does not even pose a real danger.' thought Tyrion bitterly, seeing how Robert turned practically purple and all the veins of his neck and his forehead swelled.

"Jon, something has to be done !! I've always told you!! Damn the gods !! Now they are under the power of that cheesemonger of Pentos, protected by walls and those damned eunuchs with pointed helmets." the king's mouth twisted into a bitter grin, his voice between furious and defeated.

"The matter seems quite simple to me. We should have killed Viserys and his sister years ago, but His Grace seems to prefer to listen to Lord Hand's advice, than those given by his own brother." Lord Renly shrugged, glaring at Jon Arryn, while detaching disgust in his tone.

"Daenerys Targaryen is a girl. She can marry a Dothraki lord or the stranger himself if she wants to. What about that? We don't even know if it's sure that she's going to marry anyone ... just a rumor come from across the Narrow Sea. Lastly, even if the rumor is true, if these savages are known for anything, it's for not getting on ships ... not to mention that I doubt a Khal of a Dothraki horde would pay any attention to Viserys. Should we send her a wedding present if they get married?" asked Lord Arryn with a frown.

"This child will soon spread her legs and start spawning more dragon spawn to plague my reign and that of my son." Robert's mouth hardened as did his jaw and neck, where his veins marked it. The king frowned, then scowled and continued his tirade. "A knife, perhaps. A sharp one, and a bold man to wield it." Robert finished bitterly.

Before Jon Arryn could reply anything to Robert, Baelish nodded his head to speak, which Robert consented with a wave of his hand, calmer now and back in his seat.

"One of the most incredible rumors I have ever heard has also reached me" interrupted Lord Petyr, stifling a yawn.

"Almost five moons ago, some rumors concerning the North that I thought were impossible came to me, but maybe are related to what does our dear friend The Spider has said." said Baelish with a half smile, but stopping in his explanation.

"Yes, Baelish, continue." said Robert imperatively and without patience.

"Remember what happened at Winterfell six moons ago? Apparently according to one of my sources, it was the product from the fury of three gigantic dragons that appeared out of nowhere,

reducing the First Keep and the Crypts of the Winter Kings to rubble. After that, the dragons vanished just as quickly as they arrived...but my source also mentioned that certain ghosts had risen from the Crypts after that..." said Littlefinger with a sharp turn of his mouth, speaking in a way between melodious and mocking.

There was something about Baelish's ways that bothered Tryrion deeply. The man was too smart for his own good, with a mocking smile never far from his lips and the smug facade that he always knew something that others did not. If ever a man had truly shielded himself in gold, it was Petyr Baelish. Tyrion had learned a few things about sweet Petyr, to his growing unease. Ten years earlier, Jon Arryn had given him a minor sinecure at Gulltown Customs, where Lord Petyr soon distinguished himself in financial affairs, contributing three times more than any other King's tax collector. Because Robert is a prodigious spender, a man like Petyr Baelish, who has the gift of rubbing two golden dragons to breed a third, was incalculable to his Hand.

Littlefinger's rise had been quick as an arrow. Three years after his arrival at court, he was a Master of the Coin and a member of the Small Council. 'And today the crown's income is ten times that of its beleaguered predecessor...' however the debts of the crown had also become enormous. A master juggler is what Petyr Baelish sometimes seemed to be. He didn't just collect the gold and lock it in a treasure vault, no. He paid the king's debts with more debts and put the gold that was in the treasury to work. He bought shops, boats and houses. He bought grain when it was abundant and sold bread when it was scarce. He bought wool from the north and linen from the south and lace from Lys, stored them, moved them, dyed them and sold them. The golden dragons bred and multiplied, and Littlefinger was lending them again.

Trying to judge the reactions to the rumors just mentioned by Baelish, Tyrion could see that Varys' face was the most expressive he had seen since met him, showing bewilderment, but not surprise at the news. 'Something the Spider must know or sense about what happened in Winterfell but he is not able to know exactly what happened there.'

"Gossips!!" Pycelle suddenly exclaimed. "The Citadel and Winterfell's Maester himself agree that the incident was the product at the momentary awakening of one of the Flames of the World below where Winterfell was built. In fact, it has even served to explain the origin of the castle's hot springs..." the Grand Maester practically stammered.

"And good funds that the good Lord Stark requested from the Crown for the repairs of his castle." replied the Master of the Coin with some reproach to the Maester.

"Less than the cost of one of the tournaments that my brother-in-law, His Grace, likes so much, isn't that right Baelish?" Tyrion interrupted for the first time since handing over the Iron Bank scroll to the Lord Hand, giving Littlefinger a cold, contemptuous look.

The amount that Lord Eddard Stark had requested from the Crown was insignificant, barely 20,000 gold dragons. 'The prize of a winner of any tourney melee. And yet Baelish has more problems with that disbursement than when Robert badly spends in tournaments ... He's certainly marked by his duel against Brandon Stark.' Tyrion thought as he saw the uncomfortable reaction of the pimp promoted to Master of the Coin, who was about to reply.

Robert nonetheless settled the discussion with a deep voice that echoed throughout the Small Council Chamber. "My brother-in-law Tyrion may have disrespected me with his comment, but he's right. Ned would never lie to me, nor would steal coin to the Crown!"

It seemed that Littlefinger's distrust of Eddard Stark had suddenly made him the object of his brother-in-law's fury. Therefore, Tyrion took the opportunity to also put Varys in his place and earn Robert's esteem. 'Maybe I leave this council in a better position than I was.'

"Besides" Tyrion interrupted when he saw the occasion of his life to show that his knowledge about dragons was still of some use "Dragons capable of destroying buildings would have taken years to grow to such a size. Sooner or later we would have heard some rumors Surely this rumor that has reached our beloved Master of Whispers, is one created by the Iron Bank itself..." He said looking at Varys with a raised eyebrow and some arrogance for being able to read what was happening better than the Spider.

"Knowing the esteem that his grace has towards the Targaryen family, they would think that their sudden appearance would be reason enough for the westerosi intervention in Essos sooner or later. This would end up redounding in aid for a future war against Volantis for which the Iron Throne would need to ask for a credit from the Iron Bank..." Tyrion suggested boldly as he shrugged his shoulders in the direction of his brother-in-law, spreading his arms and palms, with his hands forward.

"Because at the end of the day, if Volantis wants the Disputed Lands as well as the Three Whores, and ends up succeeding, their next logical step would be the Stepstones, leading to the inevitable clash with us... in the long run the Iron Bank would have managed to get coin out of everyone involved in a war that they may be making behind the scenes in Essos, hardly staining their hands. Through the debts contracted with them, they simply have to guide the different factions that are formed in the Free and slaver's cities, so that they end up doing what the Iron Bank really wants them to do." Smiling, Tyrion fixed Jon Arryn with his odd gaze.

"Wars cost coin Lord Hand, therefore, if the Crown were to intervene in Essos, it would force us to go into debt more than we are now, at the precise moment that we would have paid our current debt with them and we would get in credit troubles again. In this way the Iron Bank would end up making us completely dependent economically on them, granting the braavosis with the virtual government of Westeros in the proces..." Tyrion said, seeing how behind all the tensions in Essos without a doubt was the supposed new management of the Iron Bank, which now intended to plunge Westeros into the same situation, making everyone dependent on them. Grand Maester Pycelle stroked his flowing white beard and nodded heavily.

'By all the gods, it's the best plan to dominate all of Essos and Westeros without even using an army. Create the need for everyone to need coin from the Iron Bank at the precise time when they deny coin to everyone, causing that in the long run the need to resort to them is even greater and there, they will get whatever they ask for.'

"Your Grace, your brother-in-law is right on this." Petyr Baelish raised his hands as he linked his index fingers. "If we try to deny the rumors of this conversation, we would only favor the Iron Bank ploy. Better to treat them with contempt, for the pathetic lie that they are." Baelish said, who had quickly forgotten about his personal concern with Lord Stark, and was now staring at Varys.

"Economically, if we raise some taxes and make some cuts, along with some help from house Lannister, I'm sure that within a year we will have enough creditworthiness to pay the debt." For the first time in his life, Tyrion saw a smile of Baelish that reached his eyes. 'By all the gods, what is he scheming to do, to get that amount of coin?'

"The logic in Lord Tyrion's explanations is far more compelling than rumors from the sudden appearance of Dragons and Targaryen. Still, we are in dire financial straits that can threaten to financially cripple us. We would not have funds to pay armies, food, supplies, The Gold Cloaks... The Crown would lose its direct power over the its domains, allowing high and medium lords who have great capacity to obtain resources on their lands, impose their own laws on them. For example, what would prevent Dorne from breaking with the Seven Kingdoms if the Crown is unable to have more financial power than the Martell family?" Lord Arryn asked to the King

directly.

"But Jon, what about the Targaryens? The girl must die sooner or later..." Robert tried to interfere with a voice of disgust, but some resignation.

"Your grace, right now we have more urgent needs than to spend funds that we do not have in murder someone who does not suppose, nor will ever suppose, a threat" sentenced Lord Arryn implying, that at least for that day, the fate of the Targaryen girl was still far from crossing Robert's.

The King got up so abruptly that the chair fell over, after which he bolted for the door like a child throwing a tantrum. Before leaving the Small Council Chamber, the King addressed his Hand with a tone that did not admit arguments.

"Jon from now on I want Tyrion to attend each council meeting and personally oversee the Kingdoms treasury. Baelish, you will give him all the ledgers you have, and between the two, you have to find a damn way for the Crown to survive without the seven times damn Iron Bank. Pycelle, send your faster raven to Casterly Rock and summon Lord Tywin. He and I have a debt to renegotiate." Without further ado Robert turned and walked out the door of the Small Council Chamber with Ser Barristan following in his footsteps.

"Your grace." intoned everyone present. Renly, Pycelle, and Varys were already retiring when Jon Arryn addressed Tyrion and Littlefinger directly. "Lord Baelish, you've already heard the King. I hope you provide Lord Tyrion with the Crown's account books. Lord Tyrion, for your part, I hope you understand that even if you are going to attend the meetings of the small council, you will not be part of it. Is this acceptable to you, my lord?"

"Not only is it acceptable, it is an honor, my lord Hand. I will do my best to facilitate the decision- making of those who can make them."

Tyrion replied fiercely and smiling. 'Arryn will certainly understand who I am referring to by what I just said.'

The Hand of the King stared into space for a moment from his chair at the table, until he came out of his sudden stupor and with a tired gesture, definitively dismissed the session of the Small Council.

After the grueling meeting, Tyrion left with more doubts in his head than that dawn when he was summoned. But if anything was clear to him, it was that something was happening in Essos and that he would have a lot of work ahead if Tyrion wanted to raise three million of gold dragons.