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A Grim Council
Heavy shadows from the candles and flickering firelight danced across the hall, making the sharp swords of the Iron Throne seem to sway and gleam. As night fell, the court officials stood between columns, their shadows lengthening with the candlelight.
Lord Tywin Lannister sat upon the throne. The King was still young, so he had entrusted the governance of the Seven Kingdoms to his grandfather until he came of age.
The Duke wore a crimson velvet robe, a golden lion brooch pinned to his chest. His hands rested between the armrests of the throne, an expression not of anger but of proud authority.
Beneath him, the ministers seemed subtly divided, but there was a new face: the newly appointed Master of Laws, Lord Mace Tyrell. It was undoubtedly good news that the Duke of Mace had returned to King's Landing.
"Everyone, take your seats," Duke Tywin's melodious voice resonated from the throne. Grand Maester Pycelle, Master of Whisperers Varys, and Master of Coin Ser Kevan Lannister sat on either side of the long conference table. Of course, the widows of two kings were also present.
Cersei observed the ministers. The Grand Maester looked as if he were about to die, listless and on the verge of falling asleep. Lord Mace Tyrell, however, was full of energy; at least compared to his state when he first returned to King's Landing, he finally looked like a duke again. The young Queen, seated opposite Cersei, had neatly combed curly hair, wore a green gown, and her breasts were tightly laced.
"Tell us about the war, Varys," Lord Tywin commanded.
The Master of Whisperers stood and began to report on the affairs of the northern and southern battlefields. Lord Randyll Tarly led an army at Harrenhal, and Lord Paxter Redwyne commanded the Arbor and Lannister Harbor fleets at Crab Bay.
"Is there any news about Stark?" asked Lord Mace Rowan.
The eunuch paused, then produced a rolled letter from his sleeve. "I was just about to speak of that. I think this is good news. Our former Hand, Lord Eddard Stark, unfortunately died in the war with the Free Folk," Varys announced.
"This is indeed good news," Ser Kevan agreed.
"Which number is this?" asked Lord Mace, "I mean, how many Starks have died at the hands of the Free Folk now?"
"Then you'll have to go look in the crypts of Winterfell. I hear they keep their dead there," Lord Rowan retorted.
"The savages have undoubtedly accomplished a great feat," Maester Pycelle rasped. "Why don't we let Ser Janos Slynt put them on the Wall and let the Free Folk deal with the Starks?"
"Ser Janos seems to have been defeated in the Night's Watch vote," Varys said, as if remembering something. "The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch is now Cole, Stark's bastard son. Oh, please forgive me. Eddard Stark revealed the child's identity before his death, and it appears our Lord Commander is the child of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark."
"Another Targaryen!" cried Lord Rowan.
"I have doubts about his lineage," the Grand Maester stated.
When Cersei heard of Rhaegar's child, she fell into a reverie. If Robert had had a child, she would have killed the boy. She knew how much Robert hated Rhaegar. The thought of Lyanna Stark filled Cersei with fury.
She hated the woman, whether it was Rhaegar giving her the Queen of Love and Beauty's crown or Robert calling her name on their wedding night.
"Perhaps there's more than that, my lords," Varys announced loudly. The eunuch smiled obsequiously. "My spies have found traces of an old friend in Pentos."
Everyone looked at Varys as he continued, "You remember Ser Jon Connington."
"Jon Connington?" Young Queen Margaery was unfamiliar with the name.
"The loser in the Battle of the Bells, once the Hand of the King," Ser Rowan explained for her benefit.
"Why speak of a defeated man?" asked Lord Mace.
Varys glanced at the Duke of Highgarden. "What if he brings another Targaryen?"
"What?!" Lord Rowan wondered if he'd heard incorrectly.
"Where would a Targaryen come from? Another bastard son of Rhaegar?" Queen Mother Cersei mocked.
"Not a bastard, but Rhaegar's eldest son, Aegon Targaryen."
This news struck like a bolt from the blue.
"Are you jesting, Master Varys?" Young Margaery asked him.
Everyone present knew that the bodies of Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon had been displayed right here, wrapped in a red cloak by Lord Tywin himself.
"I was in prison back then, but I also heard some news," Varys continued. "The body of young Prince Aegon seemed to be beyond recognition, and his head was smashed against the wall by Ser Gregor Clegane."
Kevan had been present. Only bones and blood remained of the child's head. It was impossible to tell who it was. Only a few strands of white hair remained. Lord Tywin had declared it Aegon Targaryen. No one had objected, supporting his claim of a dead prince. But now Varys suddenly claimed there was a living Aegon in Pentos. To them, this news was akin to Aegon the Conqueror resurrecting and Balerion being reborn.
"Jon Connington and Aegon, a combination of losers and impostors. What do we have to worry about?" Lord Mace Tyrell scoffed.
"The Free Cities seem interested in helping the Targaryens recover," Ser Kevan informed everyone.
"Only those mercenaries?" the Duke of Mace said disdainfully. No one knew where his confidence came from. At least the Duke of Highgarden's twenty-year military career had been a string of defeats.
"Tyrosh has raised an army for Daenerys Targaryen, Myr has agreed to provide their ships, and Pentos has declared its intention to help Aegon Targaryen restore his kingdom," Varys announced.
"This is already a war involving both the Eastern and Western Continents, everyone," Duke Tywin, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "In addition to solving the problems across the sea, we also have to deal with Storm's End and the Eyrie. Although Stannis is dead, Cole Julius has not agreed to submit to the Iron Throne. He started a war and still has troops stationed in the Kingswood. As for Lysa Arryn, I think at least Petyr Baelish has provided no useful information." Lord Tywin continued.
Surrounded by powerful enemies, with internal troubles persisting, the crown was on the verge of falling. Many realized how dangerous their situation was now.
"Cole Julius is not at Storm's End, my lords," Varys said suddenly. "According to reports from spies, he led troops north to support the Night's Watch."
"This is a good opportunity!" Lord Mace shouted. "This man is seeking power and ruining the country. He is completely unqualified to rule the Stormlands. I think this is the best time for us to capture Storm's End." The Duke of Highgarden seemed unwilling to let go of his past disgraces. "Let Randyll Tarly lead the army south," he suggested.
"It is not a good idea to start a war with the Stormlands now," Ser Kevan warned. "You must know that Cape Wrath was recently defeated by Cole, and the Borderlands nobles are happy to make him king. If he brings back Shireen Baratheon from the North, then it's even more justified, as we all know he is Stannis's personally chosen son-in-law."
"We shouldn't have let him leave King's Landing," Cersei said grimly.
"The matter of the Stormlands will be discussed separately. I will write to urge Baelish to complete the task assigned to him by the Iron Throne as soon as possible. At the same time, I will send people to Braavos, Norvos, Qohor, and other city-states to persuade them to ally with us. And a new army has been formed in Lannisterport, but the Ironborn have betrayed the Iron Throne, so they should be punished. I will send Kevan back to the West to personally lead the army to conquer the Iron Islands," Lord Tywin said in a calm tone. "Next, let's discuss the king's wedding."
"Your Majesty Hand," the young Queen suddenly spoke. "I think I want to go back to Highgarden. I truly miss my grandmother and mother so much. Please allow me to postpone the wedding."
Lord Mace wanted to speak, but his daughter had preempted him. He was very eager for his daughter to become queen. Lord Tywin stared at Margaery Tyrell with cold eyes. She shrank back, looking sad.
Cersei cursed "little fox" in her mind, but she wished this girl would stay far away from her son. She remembered the prophecy of the "Toad" witch. Cersei's childhood friend Melara Hetherspoon had asked if she would marry Jaime in the future, but the witch had told her that tonight was the day of her death, and death was already around her. Melara died that night, falling into a well and drowning. "In the future, you will be the mother of the world... until another woman comes, younger and more beautiful than you, she will overthrow you and take away all the things you cherish." This was the prophecy the witch had made to her.
Cersei looked at the girl opposite her and said, "You shouldn't reject a child who misses his family, father."
Tywin looked at his daughter and said, "This matter will be discussed elsewhere. That's it for today's meeting. Cersei and Kevan will stay."
The important officials of the royal court stood up and left one after another. When everyone had dispersed, Duke Tywin rose from the throne and sat in front of the conference table.
"You shouldn't have spoken up for her, Cersei," Uncle Kevan told her.
Cersei glanced at her father and said, "She just wanted to go back to Highgarden."
"Then let's talk about your marriage to Willas first. I've let you think about it long enough," Lord Tywin told her.
"No, never," she said firmly. "You can't force me; I am the Queen Mother."
"You are my daughter."
"I will never marry again! Especially not a cripple," she replied loudly.
"If she doesn't want to, we shouldn't force her, Tywin." The sudden change in her uncle's attitude caught Cersei unprepared, and she cast a grateful look at Uncle Kevan.
Her uncle's words seemed to sway her father. He pondered for a moment, then said, "Since you don't want to marry a cripple, you can only consider Oberyn Martell, but this will offend the Tyrells. So, after much thought, I've decided to let you marry Cole Julius."
Cersei's mouth opened slightly, and the face that resembled Rhaegar crept into her mind.
"His abilities are what we need, and he is handsome in appearance, superb in martial arts, and full of wisdom on the battlefield."
"The child seems to be engaged," Uncle Kevan interjected.
"I think Cersei is as good as that greyscale girl."
"Please allow me to resign, and I will consider it carefully, father," Cersei stood up with a complex expression.
"Remember your responsibilities," her father warned her.
"I will."
Cersei walked slowly, thinking about what her father had said about him. He was not Rhaegar, and he had helped Tyrion fight against her. He was an accomplice in killing Joffrey. But Tommen needed him, she tried to convince herself, to preserve the kingdom.
Tywin's End
After Cersei left, only Kevan and Tywin remained in the hall. "Will he agree?" Kevan asked. "What do you think the people in the Stormlands will think?"
Kevan knew that many Stormlands nobles were in King's Landing, most of them captives who had surrendered in the Battle of the Blackwater. The two then discussed the Ironborn again.
As the night deepened, they ended their conversation, and Kevan stood up and left. Tywin Lannister closed his eyes slightly, then stood up. He stared at the Iron Throne on the high platform and remained there for a long time. He had been the Hand of the King since he was twenty years old, experiencing many ups and downs. The trust of his best friend at the beginning and the suspicion later, these things seemed like just yesterday. Although Aerys had a bad temper when young, Tywin did not think he was a fool, but rather quite wise.
"Don't you want to go up and sit down, Hand?"
A voice suddenly sounded behind him, and a sharp pain shot through Tywin's chest. He looked down and saw an arrow piercing his spine. As if pushed hard, he fell to the ground. When the Duke turned his head, what came into view was a figure wearing a hooded cloak. The voice felt familiar, and when the man slowly pulled down the hood, revealing a pale and plump face:
"Varys." The Duke's voice was weak, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. "Why you?"
"You don't trust me, do you, Lord Tywin?" The eunuch's voice was as sharp as a whip, without its usual sweet tone.
"Kill me, and you think you can leave? Cough, cough." Duke Tywin coughed up a few mouthfuls of bloody foam. There were at least hundreds of Lannister guards in the castle.
The eunuch smiled. "My lord, guess how Eddard Stark disappeared from the dungeon."
"I didn't want to do this. You are a respectable person. The Seven Kingdoms are in good order under your care, but what the kingdom needs is not a good Hand, but a good king," the eunuch continued. "You know that child has been learning to be a king since he was a child. He is an excellent knight, proficient in various languages, and has studied history, law, and poetry. He knows the sufferings of the people. He once lived with fishermen and made a living by working with his hands. He swam in the river, mended nets, and washed his own clothes. He not only knows how to fish, cook, and treat wounds, but more importantly, he knows how terrifying it is to be hungry and hunted."
"Who?" Lord Tywin tried to make his voice louder, but blood had already filled his tongue.
"Aegon," Varys told him.
Several children walked out from behind the eunuch, and his figure slowly disappeared into the night.
When the sunlight shone through the glass window onto the Iron Throne, the walking servants soon discovered the person sitting on the throne. His hands fell on both sides of the throne, and his head tilted to the side, as if he had fallen asleep. Until they saw the blood at the corners of Lord Tywin's mouth.