Chapter 28: Kingslanding Interlude

Kingslanding

Tyrion and the rest of the delegation entered the capital. The journey had been relatively smooth, but the difference was palpable once they left the North.

While in the North, the caravan had moved peacefully along the King's Road, with no attacks or incidents of note. The only unusual occurrence had been the illness contracted by one of the servants accompanying them. It started as a common cold; the servant felt weak and tired, but as days went by, they were unable to control it.

During their stay of a few days at the Dustyn ancestral home in Barrowton, the maester in charge of the fortress couldn't do anything to save him, predicting that the illness would worsen over time. As they continued their journey to the capital, the servant began to lose muscular control, and his health deteriorated until he passed away at Walder Frey's ancestral home.

Tyrion shook his head, trying to push the image out of his mind. The death had been agonizing and seemed painful. The only consolation was that no one else had been infected by whatever that was.

Tyrion emerged from the caravan, assisting Lady Elyse, and together they began walking toward the fortress, where the steward of the Red Keep approached them.

"I hope you had a pleasant journey, Lord Tyrion, Lady Elyse," said Reginald Hawke as he approached.

"Thank you, Reginald. I trust everything has been well since the delegation left?" Lady Elyse asked with a small smile, greeting her old friend.

"Not much has changed, Elyse," Reginald replied, giving her a brief hug. "The Small Council is gathered and awaits your report. In the short time since you left Winterfell, troubling news arrived."

Lady Elyse nodded. "Let's head straight there, then," she said, as she, Tyrion, and Reginald entered the fortress.

"Who is present, Reginald?" Tyrion asked, trying to keep their pace.

"Everyone is present, Lord Tyrion— even the King, Lord Renly, and Lord Stannis," Reginald responded calmly.

"And my sister?" Tyrion inquired.

"She is also present, my lord," Reginald said, opening the door to where the others were gathered.

Tyrion and Elyse entered the chamber where the most important figures in Kingslanding were assembled. The King sat on his throne with a goblet of wine, while his wife, the Queen, looked visibly irritated by the situation. Varys and Littlefinger spoke in hushed tones, and the rest of the attendees exuded an air of discomfort.

Lord Arryn looked worried as he read a message beside Maester Pycelle, sipping wine as he waited for the rest of the delegation to arrive.

When the leaders of the delegation—Tyrion, Ser Oakheart, and Lady Elyse—had entered with a few servants carrying various scrolls, the members of the Small Council gave them their full attention.

"Lord Tyrion, Lady Elyse, thank the Seven you arrived safely," said Jon Arryn with a smile that barely concealed his unease.

"Thank you, Lord Hand. The journey from the North was quite straightforward and peaceful. The Stark's bandit purge has yielded impressive results. The Riverlands, however, was a different story; the caravan encountered six different groups of bandits," Tyrion said with a carefree smile.

"Indeed… and what can you tell us about your investigation in the North, Lord Tyrion? My birds only sing in the Riverlands, so I haven't heard anything about your stay," Varys asked with his enigmatic smile.

"The situation is more complex than it appears, Lord Varys. The North is on track to becoming one of the most powerful realms in Westeros," Tyrion said, shrugging.

"Ha! That's my Ned," Robert Baratheon exclaimed with a hearty laugh.

"Why do you believe the North is on that path, Lord Tyrion?" Baelish asked.

"Everything they're doing, Lord Baelish. The North is training recruits en masse and has practically doubled its number of soldiers in peacetime. They may even have surpassed the gold cloaks here in Kingslanding," Tyrion replied, shaking his head in admiration.

"Really? That many? Why would they need so many soldiers?" Renly asked.

"They're preparing for an armed conflict with the Ironborn if the Crown doesn't compel them to stop their attacks on the North. Lord Stark told me with complete seriousness that the North will go to war if the Crown does not intervene," Tyrion said, his tone serious as he met the eyes of each of the kingdom's representatives.

"We can't allow that! The realm couldn't bear a war between two houses like the Starks and the Greyjoys!" Lord Arryn exclaimed, worried.

"Then I suggest we send a messenger to Pyke immediately… The North is ready, and I didn't notice any attempt to pressure me," Tyrion explained.

"I have a message from one of my little birds in the Iron Islands," Varys interjected. "It appears that young Robb Stark and the bastard of Winterfell defeated and beheaded Dagon Cod of House Cod and sent his head to Balon Greyjoy with a note demanding he cease his attacks on the North."

"Damn, we arrived too late," Tyrion murmured, shaking his head.

"This will complicate things," Jon Arryn said, worried.

"Complicate? The Iron Islands will cease attacking the North's ships by order of the King!" Robert exclaimed, banging the table with his fist.

"But, Your Grace… this offense…" the Maester began.

"Enough!" the King raised his voice, "I am the King, and I order those damn ironborn to stop acting like fools. They started these conflicts with their raids, and what they got is what they've sown!"

"They won't like that, dear. You should punish the scion of the Starks," the Queen intervened with a condescending smile.

"Silence, woman!" Robert roared, "My word is final. Maester, send a raven to Pyke demanding that they stop immediately, or the rest of the Seven Kingdoms will attack them until their bloodline is erased from history."

The Maester nodded quickly, eager to avoid the wrath of the drunken King. Rising, he began to walk towards his quarters as swiftly as possible.

"What other results did you obtain, Lord Tyrion?" Jon Arryn asked after a defeated sigh, knowing he couldn't change Robert's decision once he was in this mood.

"The North's products are starting to shake up many businesses of various houses, but I have no doubt that the North will continue to rise to the top," Tyrion replied.

"What wonderful products does the North bring us?" Renly asked, tilting his head.

"Honey, silk, and a way to dye their garments a very beautiful red," Lady Elyse said for the first time since the conversation began.

"And they also have another product they tried to keep secret. Despite my efforts, I couldn't find out what it was," Tyrion said with a frustrated look.

"And you have no idea what it could be, Lord Tyrion?" Varys asked softly.

"No… The Starks guarded it with all their might. Despite being permitted to visit any part of their magnificent castle, I saw nothing that gave me a clue as to what this secret product might be," Tyrion explained slowly.

"Curious…" Renly said.

"Did anything good come out of this investigation?" Stannis finally asked.

"I managed to persuade Lord Stark to continue buying supplies from the Tyrells and the Martells. This should placate those families by providing them with this concession," Tyrion said.

Tyrion then began explaining the details of his conversation with Lord Stark, and gradually the members of the Small Council began to understand how they could use the situation to the Crown's advantage and their own.

"And you, Ser Oakheart, have anything to add about your stay in the North?" Jon Arryn asked.

The knight exchanged a glance with Tyrion and Elyse before standing up and addressing Ser Barristan directly.

"There is a gem in the North, and I'm not ashamed to admit that he will be a better warrior than I in very little time," Ser Oakheart said.

Ser Barristan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who are you speaking of, Ser?" he finally asked.

"Lord Robb Stark has the potential to be one of the greatest swordsmen Westeros has seen since the Age of Heroes," Ser Oakheart said.

"Really? He must have impressed you," Littlefinger commented condescendingly.

"He defeated me in our first duel. I wasn't giving it my all, but for a twelve-year-old to beat me is no simple feat," the knight continued.

"He beat you? I expected more from a Kingsguard," Jaime Lannister said with a mocking laugh, accompanying his sister as her guard.

"Don't mock him, Kingslayer. You wouldn't have beaten a Kingsguard at twelve," Ser Barristan defended his friend.

"Ha!" The King laughed loudly. "The young wolf lives up to his name."

"Indeed, Your Majesty. He has truly impressed me. And as Varys mentioned earlier, he defeated Dagon Cod. Consider this… he is only twelve. His potential is truly impressive," Ser Oakheart agreed.

As the meeting and report concluded, the representatives began to leave one by one, until only Tyrion, Varys, and Littlefinger remained in the chamber.

"Lord Tyrion, do you know what happened to the servant Darion? He was with you to the North," Littlefinger asked.

"Yes… it's truly a shame what happened to him," Tyrion said with difficulty, the memories of his worsening condition resurfacing in his mind.

"Did something happen?" Baelish asked, feigning concern.

"He fell ill when we were passing through Torrhen's Square. Gradually his health deteriorated, and even the Dustyn maester couldn't save him. I'm sorry for his loss; Darion helped us greatly in the investigation, and it seemed he tried to assist at every opportunity," Tyrion said, meeting Baelish's gaze.

Baelish's eyebrow twitched nervously. Rubbing his throat, he said, "Yes, Darion was like that. Always wanting to help and be involved in everything. He was truly a good man. If you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave," he said, exiting the room.

"It seems he had sent a spy with the delegation," Varys murmured. "It's a pity he fell ill. He might have learned various things in the North. But I guess we'll never know."

Tyrion remained alone in the room, reflecting on what he had heard, before paling as he remembered that upon returning to Casterly Rock, he would have to face his father with bad news.