Chapter 13: Interlude: Malora of House Hightower

Interlude: Malora of House Hightower

~o~

Men and their chivalry. I had been long disabused of the notion of knights and princesses. I was a maiden in the midst of my prime, yes, but the prime of one's life—for a woman—was at most a decade or two. Few grew gracefully with age and not for lack of trying. In these moments, women married and had a litter of children as they command their household. I could do more than just keeping the house in order. What was the point of getting married?

Men? I had my share or two of affairs, some lasting longer than others, but I had no wish to settle down, to have to gain the approval of my husband on every matter. At least here, in the comfort of my family, I had some modicum of control. Here, my father was the head of House Hightower, and he allowed my whims to go through. Here, I was surrounded by siblings whom loved me and supported me through my endeavors.

Even the most heretical ones.

I would never have such freedom to pursue my desires if I were married. In fact, if I were to leave the house, I would be constantly worried that Garth would make a mess of Oldtown. My silly brother was the heir, but all that boy had in his head was of swords and…well, just swords. If he were to manage the city by himself, it would probably take him half a moon to run Oldtown into the ground. Father, of course, agreed with me, even though he still kept trying to find matches for me.

For that reason, time and again, I shamed one marriage candidate after another. They called me mad, and perhaps, I was for desiring my interests over my future. Few would willingly choose the same path as me. It was made easier by the fact that I was hardly the prettiest of my father's daughters; the honor of that belonged to one of my younger sisters. She had plenty of suitors that would offer up the world for her, but she never showed any interest. If my father wasn't so lenient with her and her tomboyish act, she would have been married off even before her flowering. Alas, that same behavior allowed me to keep the lifestyle that I had right now so I couldn't complain.

Today was just another repetition of that.

House Lannister had come for a visit, and none could turn them away. Not without repercussions. Still, this was merely a short stop before they head further south, most likely to House Tyrell or House to garner up a match for their most prestigious of heirs. I couldn't imagine they would forgive House Martell so quickly, and you simply could not approach House Baratheon by sea easily. For any of the other Great Houses, traveling by land would be far simpler.

While my family may not be of the Great Houses, we were still prominent enough that, should House Tyrell fall, none would contest our ascension. Well, none save House Tarly, but they are a wooden lot; I had no doubt they would eventually be tided over or burned to a crisp.

Still, it was obvious that these Lannisters' aim weren't for here. That was why there wasn't much emphasis on the feast that we threw for them. Obviously, some girls with more air in her head than sense would try to seduce the heir. And try, they did, though not to much avail.

When I saw him for the first time, I thought he was a pale imitation of his family. It was true that he looked like a Lannister with his blond hair and handsome features. However, his eyes…his pupils were small and flat, like that of a fish. The Seven forbid, I had enough of looking at fishes to last a lifetime; it was hard not to when one lived in a port city. Moreover, he slouched as he walked, and I feared that if he went any lower, he would become a hunchback. His demeanor was apathetic, disinterested in his surroundings and the people around him.

I didn't like him. He was a slovenly boy. When he sat at the table and ate in that slow, disinterested manner, paying not an iota of his attention to anyone around him as his eyes constantly wandered back down to his plate, almost as if he had to make a conscious effort to look up and around, I had to admit that I felt insulted. My first thought was that the rumors were vastly overstated.

Was this really the child I had heard about? The one praised for his genius and wisdom?

Then I heard him speak.

Someone, I didn't know who, had asked him a question: "I have heard that you have designed a thinner, clearer parchment. Pray tell, will you not share with us the method to produce this miracle parchment?" It was a reasonable one, considering that this was the land of Maesters. As we had a few of them in attendance, I imagined that one of them asked in regards to that. However, I never imagined that this would be his reply.

"I don't mind."

For a moment, those in attendance were stricken with silence. Even I felt my tongue get caught in my throat. Who would imagine that someone would simply give such a priceless method away? If it were her, she would have kept it a secret for as long as possible and have the Seven Kingdoms buy it exclusively from her. The amount of gold dragons that it alone would produce for House Hightower would be enough to raise them to be on par with the Great Houses. Well, maybe that was overly optimistic, but such a recipe would undoubtedly bring riches.

"…and what would you like in return, young Lord?"

"Nothing."

By this time, more people in the dining hall took notice of the conversation, even though the hall was still mostly filled with greater chatter. While the whispers of those nearby were of abundance, there was naught a face that did not display some form of skepticism, for this was simply madness. If you were to ask me at this moment, I would say that he was born with the blood of the Targaryens running through his veins.

"Now, young Lord, I may not be the wisest when it comes to mercantile matters, but even I'd balk at giving nothing for such a boon." Even with his righteous sounding words, I could hear greed on the edge of his voice. Cautious greed. I knew what he was thinking. If he could turn it into a private deal, the information would go to him alone.

"I don't need it."

For a moment, the man frowned, but just as quickly, a smile lighted on his face once more. "I'll certainly not reject such charity, but pray tell us the reason for your benevolence."

The young heir of the Lannister frowned, as if finding the matter tedious. I was curious too so I leaned in more. Perhaps, that was why, even through the loud boosting and laughter that filled the rest of the hall, I was able to hear faintly what he said under his breath.

"Zaimokuza better be right."

The words evaded my understanding, but I had no more time to dwell on it as he began speaking louder, enough for us to hear over the hubbub.

"Knowledge is power. I think most of you know that by now. However, what you may not have considered is that knowledge is a contagious infection that mutates as it goes along. The more you spread knowledge, the more you gain knowledge," he said. I reeled from his words. Infection? Isn't that calling it malicious? "I don't mean that in a bad way. It's like a beneficial plague with several stages of infection. Quiet down a little so I can explain. Take for example, Asshai. Not much knowledge is known about the nation, but if I were to teach what I knew to a hundred people, then those hundred teach a hundred each, then more and more people would know about Asshai. However, this is a limited amount of information. Eventually, some people from those that have been taught will want to go to Asshai.

"Those who do may eventually come back and bring the new knowledge they carry back to me. So now, I have more information about Asshai than I did before, and I would teach this new information to the original hundred and let this new piece of information drip down the chain. Thus, more would be interested in Asshai and make more trips, bringing back more knowledge. In the end, those closest to the epicenter of this information wave like myself would receive the most knowledge about Asshai. And that is without having to visit Asshai myself.

"But let me give a simpler example. Let's take a math problem. Twelve divided by three. Let's say I don't know the answer, but if I ask a dozen people and share what I know, maybe one of them know the answer. If they don't, I can ask a dozen more people until I find someone who knows. But what if no one knows in the entire world? I asked a hundred people so those hundred people would work on the problem and maybe one of them would eventually figure it out. A thousand minds working on one problem is better than a single one, but they must all have the same base level of knowledge and work together to combine their intelligence and wisdom in figuring out the problem. If they work separately, it would be just as bad as a single mind working on the problem. Do you understand what I mean now? Hm? Well, let me simplify it further then.

"The more you spread knowledge, the more you gain knowledge."

I had to admit, he was intelligent. Most who heard his words would think that he was praising the Maester's institution, but I felt he was saying the opposite. His message was probably that knowledge should be free for anyone to learn, and the more minds that did, the more easier it would be for problems of the world to be solved. That caught my attention more than anything. Still, a silly urge came to me. I wanted to bring him down a peg or two, perhaps three if I could manage it. So I waltzed up the little child and asked, "How'd you spread knowledge?"

If he had said something like "by teaching," then I would have mocked him relentlessly. How was it different from a Maester? It would be the same, ineffectual as it was at bringing in more knowledge. And that would have been the end of the story.

Of course, that wasn't what happened.

"Paper."

His words… If there weren't enough teachers, why not replace them with books? The reason was obvious to everyone listening; it would simply be too expensive. However, when he told us of the ease that his paper—made of wood that could be found almost everywhere instead of animal skin—could be afforded by even the most common of peasants, I was astounded. That was when I understood his implication. If paper were cheap, then wouldn't copies of books be far more widespread than it was now? However, this was the only beginning of his monologue.

If paper and books were easier to get and maintain, why not build another learning institute that would be a repository of such books, similar to the Citadel?

The ideas he told—of mandatory education and an organized institution of learning for children, not just for the nobles and the wealthy—were shocking. I daresay that not even a Grand Maester could have come up with such a fantastical idea. What I found especially novel was the idea of a homeroom teacher, someone that not only teaches a subject but manages the overall welfare of the students. However, these were just that, a dreamer's ideas. Something left up to the fantasy of idle men and fiction.

Until he told me of the plans surrounding the ideas. The finances, the logistics, how it would be managed, how it would pay itself off—in both money and loyalty. The loyalty of the Maesters to the Citadel was evident, but to put that on a scale of a city as large as Lannisport? It was a massive project, and I even told him so, but he shook his head in response.

"This is just a prototype. I want these schools to be built and maintained all across Westeros," Hachi said. "It doesn't matter if they were born as a noble or a commoner; everyone deserves a chance, to make their mark on the world."

I felt weak, as if my knees would give out if I hadn't been sitting down. It made my mouth feel dry from the implication, a solution that would turn the world on its head.

I understood now. I finally understood why they called him a genius. My hands tingled with excitement.

He would change the world. There was no proof of it, but it felt undeniable.

This…he was my destiny.

It felt like we had the same type of mindset, that if I talked to him about everything about me, the good and bad, he would accept me regardless. Maybe I was rushing, but I felt that I needed to act on it.

I turned to father, Lord Leyton Hightower, who stood next to me and touched his arm.

"What is it, Malora?"

"He's amazing, isn't he?" I began slowly, to ease into what I wanted to say.

"A very bright child, yes," father said. "He'll be a good match for Lynesse."

No!

"Lynesse is a young and beautiful child," I said slowly, deliberately slow. "A match for her will not be hard. I, on the other hand…"

"Ah, suggesting a better match then? I see your point, fair child. Which of your sisters do you nominate?"

"I wouldn't be opposed…"

"Go on," he prompted. "Wouldn't be opposed to which sister?"

"Well, that…it wouldn't be a sister, necessarily…"

"A cousin then? I do not believe that the Lannisters will be amendable to a wife from a branch family."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Then who?"

"That's… It's… Agh! You're impossible, father!"

"What did I do?"

"Can't you understand?!"

"Not if you do not tell me," he said in exasperation. "Well, spit it out, girl."

"Me!" I shouted. "I want to him to marry me!"

It was only when he didn't respond that I noticed the room was eerily quiet. Glancing around, I saw the eyes of everyone in the room on me. It was only then that I realized that, in my agitation, I had shouted that out to everyone in the room. My face turned as red as a tomato, even as I felt like fainting out of embarrassment.

Then the Lannister heir, Hachi, walked up to me. He was a boy a decade younger than me so his head barely reached my bosom. His face looked up at me, and I held my breath. It took him a far bit of time, his face seemingly conflicted as if he was struggling with himself.

"Um, maybe we should get to know each other firs—whoa!"

He caught my hand as I fainted. I had held my breath for too long.

~o~

A/N: Will release next chapter in a couple of days. Just need to touch it up.

I came back because Moviepass is pretty much dead. The dream is dead.

Nah, I was stuck on A-kun for awhile. Even wrote a story on there. Then just kind of floundered around. It didn't help that the Game of Thrones episodes after it went beyond the books were flawed that I couldn't even finish watching that season.

I have tons of excuses why I was gone for so long, but I guess it mainly came down to not being inspired until I re-read the first volume of Yahari. My schedule for releases isn't going to be steady, especially since I need to regain my lost touch. Honestly, I wanted to release a full chapter for my return, but the interlude was necessarily for the next part and what I was working on before I went on hiatus.

Also, special thanks to Vahn and Vad. Thanks, guys. Still bugging me to write even after a year.