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The lioness
The second match of the afternoon saw the victory of a stormland knight. Cersei clapped as expected when truly, only one lance had been broken. Jaime would ride tomorrow, he had already won his two first bouts. He had been magnificent with his hair, golden like a crown, just like hers. He was a better knight than anyone riding today. Was he bored as she was? His competition was pitiful except maybe for Barristan Selmy.
But the man was old and soon he would bow to her brother and after his death, Jaime would be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard with a seat in the Small Council. With Pyrcell on her side, she would finally be able to influence the Small Council she thought dreamily. Varys was a coward, he would follow power and Littlefinger would obey her, he was barely more than a hedge knight. If he served her well, she would maybe grant him some lands.
She glanced at Robert. He was deep in his cup, his face flushed red. How could anyone call him a King with his fat belly? He was a drunk and a whoremonger. Thank the Gods, Joffrey was nothing like him, she made sure of that.
A little lower, she saw the Dornish party. She curled her lips, she didn’t like them, always looking at her with contempt. The smiles of the Princess were particularly false. Cersei could have given her lessons on how to conceal her true emotions. She organized a delightful surprise for Arianne Martell. The next round would pit her husband against the Mountain. She was sure Doran Martell would thank her: everybody knew she had married the Tyrell boy against his will.
When the herault announced the next opponents, Cersei kept an eye on the Princess. Her eyes widened in surprise and she paled despite her dark skin. Cersei hadn’t know it was possible for the Dornish. Satisfied, she asked a glass of wine to Lancel.
Robert, always intent on frustrating her, said, “What in the Seven Hells is that? Who thought it was a good idea?”
“It’s a just coincidence. Sometimes, Blackwoods and Brackens face each other in the grounds when they shouldn’t,” she shrugged.
Robert didn’t seem convinced, “If Clegane kills Garlan Tyrell, there will be hell to pay,” he muttered darkly.
Cersei didn’t care, Mace Tyrell was an oaf and Dorne had no allies. They would not dare to anger the Lannisters. If Garlan got maimed, it would be bad luck like, his brother.
The contestants took their place at each hand of the field. At the sound of the trumpet, the horses began to gallop. The Mountain's lance hit Garlan Tyrell’s shield with such force he almost fall but he regained his balance quickly.
In the second round, Garlan Tyrell avoided the lance and aimed at Clegane’s saddle to throw him off his horse without success. They broke two more lances, the Mountain using brute force to defeat the Tyrell. Unfortunately, he was strong and a talented horseman.
Arianne Martell sat on the edge of her chair, her hands gripping guard rail. Each time the lance hit her husband, she blanched more.
“He is good, really good. People rarely last long against the Mountain.”
"He should concede before Clegane gets angry.” What an humiliation for the fine flower of the Reach she thought.
“That’s what a sensible man would do but I think he has a plan.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gregor Clegane wins because of his strength whereas Garlan Tyrell relies on strength and skills. Their reaches are almost equals but there are others elements to take in consideration during a joust. You see Clegane’s horse? It’s tired, soon it will start foaming,” said Robert, eyes fixed on the field.
“But he just have to change horses,” she protested.
“He already have several times. There are not a lot of horses able to carry the Mountain and he is getting angry, he is pushing them harder and harder. If he has no more horses to ride, Garlan Tyrell just had to outlast him.”
Robert might an idiot but he knew how to fight. Garlan Tyrell and the Mountain went back to their position for the fifth round. Cersei hoped Clegane would finally win, it was getting boring. Why was the Tyrell so stubborn? He just had to swallow his pride and loose.
The two knights kicked their mounts to a gallop. This time, Garlan Tyrell’s lance struck Clegane’s helmet, splitterring brutally. Under the schock, Gregor Clegane and his horse toppled to the side. The screams of the crown was deafening. Robert stood up, shouting along and clapping his meaty hands.
The Mountain tried to get on his feets despite his horse trapping one of his legs. He roared but Cersei could make out his words. The field swarmed with squires, most trying to help Gregor Clegane and dealing with his panicked mount, others leading Garlan Tyrell away.
She saw Arianne Martell halfway to the ground, her ladies-in-waiting behind her. Cersei rose with a gracious smile to applaud. She hadn’t expected the Tyrell to be victorious. She knew Robert would not pass this opportunity to drink more, he would celebrate Arianne Martell’s husband with a river of wine. She would have to deal with the Dornish at every turn.
The clamors of the crowd didn’t seem to end. It began to give her an headache. She decided to excuse herself. Robert didn’t even notice.
When she left the box, she passed Garlan Tyrell and his wife. His helmet had been removed and he was held up by two Dornish knights. She wished she could ignore them and continue on her way.
“My lord, you were magnificent. Your victory is going to be celebrated by everyone.”
Arianne Martell’s head jerked, “It’s not the time for courtesies. He needs a maester right now! Get him out of his armor and put him to bed,” she said to her followers.
Cersei didn’t let her irritation show. ”I will send Archmaester Pycell to look after him immediately. I hope your husband is not in danger.”
One of the knights snorted,”Fighting the Mountain is danger .”
“Daemon, stop. Go to the tent and take care of Garlan.” Her voice was tense.
“We will, Your Grace,” said the other knight. He was older, his face wrinkled like an old prune.
Worry didn’t leave the Princess’ face, “And be careful.”
The older knight nodded and they started to slowly move their charge towards the pavillion of the Martells.
Arianne Martell turned to face Cersei, “Thank you Your Grace. We appreciate you help. Please send the Archmaester as soon as you can.”
Cersei kept her false expression of concern, “Of course. I’m sure Lord Garlan will be fine.” He didn’t seem fine: his face was white, he could not stand straight and he had hissed in pain when Daemon Sand had touche his shoulder. It served him well for not bowing to the Mountain.
“I prefer to have the opinion of a maester. Gregor Clegane is a monster and if my husband is hurt, I will have his head,” she spat.
Cersei didn’t let her solicitude slip despite her anger at the chit. “Alas, wounds are a risk when you compete in a tourney, every knight know that,” she said like if she was talking to a child. The girl needed a reminder of the realities of the world and a Queen was always gracious even with an impudent child.
The Dornish woman didn’t reply, she fixed Cersei with hard eyes and turned on her heels.
The sun
Arianne was watching over Garlan when Tyene arrived. She closed the the tent behind her and sat in front of her.
“I asked around and you were right: Garlan was not supposed to meet with the Mountain. It was a last minute change.”
“What happened?”
“Garlan’s spot was switched by mistake with another knight or so the herault said.”
Arianne looked at Garlan, sleeping peacefully. Pyrcell had given him some milk of the poppy to help with the pain. She found his slack face disturbing, he was sleeping but not dreaming. His mind was not there.
“I don’t believe that. It was not a accident and I’m sure Cersei has something to do with it.”
Her cousin’s eyes were pensive, “It’s a bold move, even for her. Why would she do that? It’s a dangerous game, if Garlan had died she would have made Highgarden her enemy, and for what gain exactly?”
Arianne stroked Garlan’s hand in her lap. It was bigger than her, with hard callus from years of training on the yard.
“To punish us. Garlan bested her brother several times and she took it for an insult.” She remembered the emerald eyes shining with anger when they met hers across the courtyard.
“She tried to murder Garlan for a petty revenge? I expected better from Tywin Lannister’s daughter,” Tyene said incredulous.
“Send a message to Highgarden to tell them that Garlan survived his joust against the Mountain.”
“So they will rush to King’s Landing to see by themselves,” Tyene smilled. “The Queen of Thorns will do our jobs for us.”
“Exactly.” Let Robert and Jon Arryn deal the mess Cersei Lannister created. Let some seeds of discord grow. Garlan said Loras was talking about bringing their sister Margaery to court, maybe to find a husband. The Crown Prince was not betrothed for the moment. If Jon Arryn wished to apologize, the Tyrell could use it to their advantage. It might get her in Olenna Tyrell’s good graces.
“What about Clegane?” asked Arianne.
“Very sick, you can hear his screams a mile away. The maesters say an infection set in his eyes because of the shards from Garlan’s lance.”
“Good.” Tyene’s proficiency in the art of poison was always useful. She added,” Can you keep your ears open for any kind of rumours concerning Cersei?”
“I will.” Before she left, she said, “Do you know people are calling Garlan the Mountainslayer?”
“The Kingslayer will be jealous.”
Tyene chuckled as she stepped outside.
Garlan moaned and she turned her attention back to him. The Archmaester had declared that the next days would determinate if his broken ribs had affected his lungs. If not, he would heal with time. She prayed it would be the case. He couldn’t leave her alone with their son. She had invested too much in their marriage.
She kissed his hand and settled in her chair to listen to him breathing. He would not die.
The rose
Garlan observed Arianne combing her hair like they had personally offended her. When she saw him, she glowered.
“Cersei Lannister is a bitch.”
“I take the tea with the Queen did not go well.”
“She all but said you are a simpleton with big muscles who think with his dick.”
“My grandmother would agree. In her opinion, I’m bigger fool than my father for falling for a pretty face and a sweet bosom.”
Arianne laughed, “Did she really call me pretty?”
“She believed her age frees her from the rules of politeness,” he said, sidestepping.
“Well, last time, Lord Yronwood implied I was a silly girl, blind to your nefarious plan to take over Dorne.”
“I didn’t know he held me in such high esteem.”
She giggled,”We must look very stupid.”
“They underestimate us and don’t see the scorpion in their shoes. Did you defend my honor?” he teased.
Arianne smiled with great satisfaction. “I did. I extolled your provenness at the sword and your love for rosebuds.”
Garlan sputtered, “You did what?” His wife could be shameless but never in public.
“Don’t worry, she didn’t understand.”
Thanks the Gods he thought.
“Her brother Tyrion definitely understood,” she added, “He almost choked on his wine.”
“He joined you? I thought they did not get along.”
“I invited him. He was not at the tourney and he wanted to know all about you.” Her smile was sweet and gentle. Garlan would have been charmed if he hadn’t seen her practising in front of her mirror.
He slowly sat on their bed and began to take off his boots. He winced, he still could not bend his torso without pain and his left hand was not up for the task even if he had trained to fight with both hands. Arianne moved her seat closer to help.
“Pulling the tail of the lion can be dangerous,” he said.
She grunted as she pulled on his right boot. “She started first! She said dornish women have notoriously loose morals.”
He wriggled his eyebrows, “Is she afraid you will seduce Robert?”
“Alas my beloved husband, you are a paragon of manhood. You have ruined me for other men.” The quivers of her voice, paired with her tragic expression, were a nice touch. “Besides, there is no need to seduce Robert. Trot a woman in front of him, and he will grab her. How was Lord Dayne?”
“Excited to hear the story from the Moutainslayer himself. I suspect his popularity among the squires has risen considerably,” Garlan said, wriggling his foot free from the boot.
“He likes you, specially since you put Darkstar in his place. He is still limping, you know.” She patted his knee with satisfaction.
“You asked nicely, I could not refuse.” Whatever the man thought of himself, he was no Arthur Dayne and no Oberyn Martell, and he certainly did not deserve Dawn.
“That’s why Robert Baratheon cannot seduce me. You always know what please me.”
“Bringing you the corpses of your enemies?” he suggested.
“It is the key to my heart.”
The warrior
Garlan grimaced, even a slight movement of his torso was painful. The pain had not abated. A knight could not avoid it, it was inevitable when men fought. But it didn’t mean it was pleasant to endure. He heard a commotion in the solar and Arianne appeared at the door.
“Garlan, the King is here, do you want to see him?”
A visit from the King was not an honor you could refuse in good conscience.
“Yes please. Send him in. Could you help me to get on my feets?”
She turned to address someone behind the door. “Nymeria, tell the King Garlan will receive him.”
She then walked up to him to help him. Very slowly, he stood up from the bed. She took his good arm and guided him to the solar. He sat prudently on a chair.
“Do you want pillows? It might be more comfortable,” Arianne asked
“I would appreciate it.”
The King came in the room followed by Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime. The presence of the Kingslayer was a bad idea. Could it be intentional?
He tried to raise but the King waved his hand, “No need for formalities. You are hurt, we can make an allowance.” He sat without ceremony.“How do you feel?”
“Like a mountain fell on me.”
Robert Baratheon bursted out laughing, “No doubt! If I hadn’t seen it, I would not believe it. I’m glad I was there. It is the stuff of legends. The Spider tells me bards are fighting to write songs about you.”
In truth, he had not thought he would defeat the Mountain. He just intended to last two bouts, just enough for his pride, and then lose gracefully. Many didn’t even try to fight Gregor Clegane and conceded before the match started.
But he had noticed that Clegane was an average jouster: few horses could support him and his skills at the lance were mediocre. Had he not been built like a monster, he would have lost sooner. Garlan had took a risk and put all his strength and dexterity in his lance to move the Mountain that Rides. And he had been lucky, very lucky.
“I will have to organize a singing competition to determine which one is the best.” Margaery would love that. Arthur Dayne had been a great warrior and he had some songs about his efforts against the Kingswood Brotherhood. It was rarely heard since the Rebellion.
“People sing many songs about you, Your Grace. Do you have a favourite?” Garlan asked.
The King’s eyes had a far away look. “I’m partial to The Demon of the Trident. When I hear it, I kill him all over again.”
Garlan didn’t have to ask who he was. “I appreciate the Fall of Pike myself.” His Lord Father was particularly fond of the song, even if he had participated to the campaign safely behind the Highgarden troops. You could be sure to hear it at any big feast. “It is a fitting tribute to you, Your Grace. You are a warrior king and you made clear that there is only one king in the Seven Kingdoms.”
Robert Baratheon poured himself a glass of wine from his wineskin. He didn’t seem to go anywhere without wine flowing. He also filled Garlan’s cup.
“It’s Abor Gold. Do you want some, My Lady?” he said to Arianne
“Of course, Your Grace. I tried to convert my husband to Dornish wine but he stays adamant that the Arbor produces the best wine of the realm,” she smiled thinly at him.
In response, Garlan flashed her a large grin. “I have learnt to appreciate Dornish cuisine but Arbor Gold is my first love.”
The King took a gulp of wine. “I remember the first time I drank to much. Jon was very displeased and made Ned and I run laps in the yard to sweat out the wine. He pretended it was an hangover cure and we believed him!”
“My brother Willas convinced me to drink a horrible mixture to soothe the pain. I ended up puking. My grandmother was not happy I ruined her gown.” The only satisfaction he got was that the both of them had been punished.
Robert Baratheon looked impressed, “ It’s not something I would have thought of. I have never seen Ned truly drunk.”
After Willas’accident, Garlan had snuck up in his rooms regularly. He had been so afraid that Willas was dying, he had to see for himself. At first, they had not realized how the world had shifted for his brother.
They had been convinced the maesters would fix his knee and all would be back to normal. Instead, Willas had discovered that stairs had become his biggest enemy when he used to rush up and down without a thought.
Garlan had brought Willas the only cure he could think of when they finally understood and they had drank together until they couldn’t cry anymore. Now, Garlan could not get drunk on Arbor Gold and Willas preferred Dornish wine. But it still tasted home with all the bittersweet memories that came with it.
“Have Lord Stannis ever been drunk?” he asked. He knew enough of the man that he was not one for distraction but he was curious.
“Never,” the answer was swift. “I had to order him to drink at his own marriage!” Robert Baratheon changed of subject, “Jon tells me your family is coming to court. Will you still be here when they arrive?”
“We are extending our stay. The maesters have advised Garlan to rest while he heals. They prefer he avoids riding,” Arianne said.
His ribs delighted in reminding him of their existence. He could not think of riding without a shudder.
“I have not seen my family for a long time and we had not had to present our son to my parents.”
Since his marriage to Arianne, more exactly. His grandmother was wroth with him to have gone with his Lord Father’s idea instead of stalling. If Garlan was honest with himself, someone should have kept an eye on his father during the trade negotiations with Dorne. Arianne had charmed him and whispered in his ear of a better way to gain lower taxes from Dorne.
Without his mother to dissuade him of his foolish ploy, Mace Tyrell had accepted Arianne’s suit. Garlan knew he could have found a way to disentangle himself but Randyll Tarly had planted a far more dangerous idea in his father’s mind: to make Garlan heir to Highgarden instead of Willas. It was why he had been obligated to accompany his father to the talks when Willas should have been at his side.
Becoming the consort of the future Princess of Dorne had provided an excellent reason to kill the idea.
“Your brother Loras is great knight too. He knocked Ser Jaime on his arse the last time. Your father must be proud.”
“He is a gifted jouster but Ser Jaime’s reputation precedes him. I’m sure my brother was a worthy opponent,” Garlan said. “I prefer the melee myself.”
“Really?” The King looked shocked. “You sell yourself short. No one believed the Mountain could be defeated until you did.”
“My husband is an humble man,” Arianne replied. “Sometimes too humble, Ser Jaime can vouch for his skills. They have trained together several time.”
“Did you beat him?” Robert’s tone was little too eager when the man stood right there.
“We both lose. It was a honor to cross swords with the best swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms.” Garlan peered at the Kingslayer. He had a easy smile but his eyes were jaded.
“It was a pleasure to fight with Lord Tyrell. It’s not often I have a satisfying adversary,” he said, with a smirk.
Garlan agreed. Their duels had been challenging: they were evenly matched in strength. It was difficult to say who was the best. To win, they had to rely on skills and cleverness. He felt his victories over Jaime Lannister sweeter for it.
“Your Grace, will you make us the honor to dine with us when Garlan’s family arrive?” Arianne asked. ”We will of course invite Lord Renly and Lord Jon.”
“But not Stannis?” The King laughed. “I can’t blame you. He still have not forgiven you father,” he said to Garlan.
“It was my understanding that your brother wasn’t available. He is welcome to join us if it change.”
Garlan hoped it wouldn’t. Stannis Baratheon was a dour man, glowering at Garlan each time they met in the corridors of the Red Keep.
“Why not? Renly is always lauding the hospitality of Highgarden,” he said. He rose. “I plan to hunt a boar this afternoon. It had evaded me too many times. Join me when you are better, Ser Garlan.”
Garlan prefered training to hunting but royal favour was not something to be refused. “I look forwards to it, Your Grace.”
“Good. Let’s go, Jon is waiting for me.”
A servant opened the doors for the King and his Kingsguards.
After they left, Arianne said, “Your father will be pleased. We should send him a raven.”
His last message to Garlan had been frantic, asking how grave his wounds were, if he was in need of a septon. His mother had added they were coming as fast as they could. If he knew his mother, it meant only half of Highgarden instead of all of it.
Arianne handed him a piece of bread with cheese. He answered before taking a bite, “I think Grandmother would be best. She will know how to handle it. My father is likely to panic.”
She hesitated, “Do you think they will want to meet Mors?”
He heard the worry in her voice. He took her hand to reassure her. “He is the first grandchild of my mother. She won’t be able to resist. Father and Grandmother will follow.”
She looked relieved. “I will start the preparations for the dinner. I will show him what hospitality mean in Dorne.”
In face of her determination, Garlan had not the heart to tell he she would have to fight over the organization of the dinner with his grandmother as soon as she arrived.
The princess
Arianne took her decision. “Tyene, could you play the ballad of Garth Greenhand? Margaery would you like to accompany her? .”
The Queen of Thorns raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. “Yes, Margaery, music would be lovely,” she said.
They started to play the melody. Garlan had not lied, his sister had a beautiful voice.
“It’s not common knowledge yet but the Stranger has answered our family’s prayers. Tywin Lannister is sick, at death’s gate.”
“The Stranger,” repeated Olenna Tyrell slowly.
“It’s an illness from the bowels. They say he will drown in his own shit.”
“You are lucky, in my experience the Gods rarely respond,” said Willas.
“We pledged mountains of gold to the Stranger if my aunt and her children were avenged.”
Comprehension dawned on his face. “It an heavy sacrifice for Dorne.”
“A simple token of our gratitude. There are fates worse than death for men like Tywin Lannister. They hate nothing more than weakness.”
“It is an interesting news,” intervened Olenna Tyrell. “But why tell us?”
“Because we are family.” And because sharing a secret of your enemy with an uneasy ally build trust. Maybe enough to get them to divulge the secrets they knew.
Olenna Tyrell tapped her cup, deep in her thoughts. “There is a rumour that the Queen has a lover.”
Curious, Tyene had not heard this rumour. Arianne played along, “What a vile lie! The King must be wroth.”
“It has not reached Robert’s ears,” said Willas. For the moment was left unsaid.
Arianne considered his words, gossip was an useful weapon. There were no love left between the royal couple. She didn’t see Robert dismissing the rumour. No, he would be eager to believe, even more if it gave him an excuse to get rid of Cersei. And with Tywin too sick to defend his daughter, well the Lannisters were feared, not loved. To see them brought low would please many, specially in Dorne.
“It’s for the better. Ser Jaime would cut through half the court to protect his sister’s honor from these baseless accusations.” She made a point of shuddering.
Tywin neutralized, it left his oldest son as a obstacle. Cersei and Jaime Lannister were as close as Queen Naerys was with her brother, Aemon the Dragonknight. He would win every trial by combat to defend her honor.
Willas leaned towards her, “I have an interest in breeding animals, horses, hounds, you name it. The rules that govern breeding can apply to people.”
She frowned, what did it have to do with Cersei’s supposed infidelity?
“For example, the Florents are known for their big ears.” Olenna snorted indelicately while her grandson continued, imperturbable. “The Targaryen for their white hair and purple eyes and the Baratheon for their black hair and blue eyes.”
“Except for Robert’s children,” she remarked.
“Precisely,” said Olenna Tyrell, with a vicious smile.
Getting rid of Cersei and her children based on a rumour was quite ambitious, just like the Tyrells. Uncle Oberyn had warned her, said they charmed you until you lost your favourite sand steed to them in a bet you somehow agreed to. She had seen the results of the addition to the Tyrells' stables when Willas had sent a mare to Ellaria for her nameday.
“Surely not every Baratheon looks like the King,” she protested. She could stomach a sham trial if it destroyed House Lannister but she was less sure she could let innocent children be hurt for her own gain.
“That’s not what Maester Malleon says.”
“Who?”
“He wrote about the lineages of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. He went in great details to describe the looks of each member. All the Baratheons have black hair and blue eyes, even the children ot the last Lannister-Baratheon marriage. And if you add the fact that all of Robert’s bastards share the same look, it became clear she put horns on Robert since the beginning. We can’t allow this woman to pass her bastards as trueborn.”
Arianne considered Willas’words. “It certainly raises suspicion but we need more proof. Who is his lover? Or does she have several? Does his brother knows? A confession from him would seal her fate.” She had used we deliberately. If she could help the Tyrells cripple the Lannisters while Tywin laid, impotent, in his bed, it would be glorious.
Willas and his grandmother exchanged glances. Finally, the Queen of Thorns lifted a finger,” She has one lover: her brother.”
Arianne observed her wizened face, despite her age, you could still the beauty she had been. It might have faded but not her wits. She was old enough to have outlived three Targaryen kings and one crown prince. Robert hated the Targaryen even when the last one was just a girl somewhere on the other side of the world. Cersei committing incest with his brother was a perfect accusation. He would be on trial right along with her.
“Incest is an abomination. The Lannisters will claim it slander by jealous enemies.” She knew the old saying said, who want to drown their dog claims it is rabid.
Willas shot a grin at his grandmother. In response, she sent him a severe look. “The thing is, they are not discreet. Others have suspicions and there might be witnesses.”
In a case like this, testimonies could be encouraged . “Others?” she asked.
“Stannis for sure. He is investigating right now, he tipped off Renly.”
"Lord Arryn doesn’t know. And the Spider? It can’t have escaped his notice,” Arianne thought out loud.
Olenna Tyrell grimaced, “Who knows what he knows? He doesn’t share.”
“It’s a good question,” said Willas. “He cannot be unaware. He may keep silence for fear of the consequences if he talks.”
The Tyrells had enough to plant doubt in Robert’s mind but Lord Arryn was a cautious man. He would have to be convinced before doing anything else. Only he could neutralize the lions cleanly.
“Does Renly intend to inform the King?”
Willas and his grandmother shared a look. “We are waiting for the right time,” he answered.
“Maybe he should bring his...concerns to Jon Arryn first. He can order Varys to investigate. It would lend credence to his words, and if Stannis does the same, Lord Arryn would have to pay attention.”
She could see Olenna Tyrell disagreed although Willas had a thoughtful expression. Arianne pressed on, ”He is Robert’s foster father, he trust him. If you go directly to Robert, he will react with anger and alert the Lannisters. What if they flee to Casterly Rock? We would have no hope to capture them. With the Hand’s help, they can be placed under arrest without trouble.”
Willas nodded,” And it would take the Lannisters by surprise. No need to spill blood.”
Blood would be spilled later, at the end of Cersei and Jaime Lannister’s trial.
“We will advise Renly to bring the matter to Jon Arryn and Robert.” Visibly, Olenna Tyrell would have prefered to bypass the Hand all together. “Renly is the Master of Laws, he will request an meeting with Lord Arryn and Robert to discuss an urgent issue,” she continued.
“And if Stannis made the same accusation later, he will be doubly alerted,” Willas added.
“Indeed,” Arianne said.
Margaery’s voice slowed down as Tyene played the last note of the ballad. Arianne served tea for Margaery.
“You must be parched. I wish I had your talent, sadly people had made it clear I should stick to the luth.”
Her goodsister turned pink, “You are too kind. I just had the best teachers.”
Pretty and sweet, with something of her grandmother. Arianne could tell she was a futur darling of the court. She was ready to shine and to catch the eyes of powerful men. After all, the Tyrells’ claim to Highgarden came from a female line.
Growing strong was an appropriate motto for them. Slow and steady, the roses grew around the Lannisters, ready to strangle them. The Roses were cannier than the Lions: they may look pretty and harmless but under the flowers, you found the thorns. The Lannisters had, what? A pile of cold hard gold and claws? The Tyrells had deep roots and a fertile soil.
All Dorne had to do was to take a step back and watch the Tyrells destroy the Lannisters. With Gregor Clegane, Amory Lorch, Tywin Lannister dead or soon dead, his golden twins on trial, House Lannister would be declawed. There had been no justice for her aunt and cousins, at last there would be vengeance.
The mother
Arianne tried to concentrate on her letter but the face of the bastards kept floating in her mind. Finally, she put down her quill and leaned back in her chair.
She closed her eyes, the death of Tywin Lannister and his two children felt right, a just vengeance for Elia. No, it was the execution of the children she struggled with. They were abominations because of the sins of their parents. She had judged Cersei and Jaime Lannister guilty, along with Stannis Baratheon and Mace Tyrell.
They were dead, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were next. They were children, just like Rhaenys and Aegon. What did they understand of their situation? Their world had turned upside down and now, they languished in the cells of the Red Keep.
Her father had told her the duty of a Prince of Dorne was to their subjects, high born or low born alike, and that it was always the humbles who suffered the most when nobles played the game of thrones.
She knew why people said he was an old man, afraid, when he was only cautious. Her choices had costs and this time, it was the life of three children. What was it compared the injustice that had been done to her family? She had assisted the execution of the Lannisters because she had pronounced the sentence.
In her heart, she knew she did not want to see three young children die because of her. Her eyes fixed her letter to her father. He would be satisfied with the news from King’s Landing. She had fought him for the Faceless Men. He had only accepted her idea when she had accused him of hypocrisy: “ you don’t just want vengeance, you want blood and fire. You want the glory of destroying the Lannisters at the price of our people. Tell me, Father, what do you value more? The gold of Dorne or their lives? ”
In the end, he had acquiesced to her plan. Uncle Oberyn had wanted to go after the murderers themselves but they had decided to wait for Tywin’s death. By a twist of fate, Amory Lorch had found himself at the wrong end of Garlan’s sword during a melee. He had finished skewered and screaming like a pig. Her cousins had conceded that her husband knew how to be useful.
She could appeal to Jon Arryn for clemency, ask him to send the boys to the Wall and the girl to the Faith. It was a illusion of course, Robert Baratheon could not let them live, their existence was too dangerous for his throne. Arianne shivered, her cousins and her aunt had died for the same reason. No one had protested except Eddard Stark.
The death of the children was inevitable. She could not save their lives but she could try to spare them pain. They didn’t need to be executed in front of all King’s Landing, on the order of man they had called Father. Their death could be merciful.
Arianne made her decision: she would ask Jon Arryn for a painless death. She could convince him, he was an honorable man.
She went back to her letter." The murderers of our family have been punished. Their shades can be laid at rest at last and we can now look peacefully to the future ."