Tyrion rubbed his small hands across his broad face, rousing himself."Jaime, here's the thing…"
Tyrion's tongue was as quick as ever; in concise words he laid out the cause and course of events.
When Jaime finished listening, his thoughts drifted back to Gawen's earlier analysis of a plot aimed at Cersei. His heart stirred."Tyrion, you're the cleverer one between us—can you guess why Littlefinger would want to set Cersei and Jon at odds?"
The question came naturally. Jaime had taken Gawen's counsel to heart—or rather, he was a man who kept his word. He had told no one of the plot against Cersei.
When it came to his sister, Jaime would reveal nothing. He would investigate in secret.
Tyrion slapped his thigh, suddenly animated."At first, even I couldn't figure out why Petyr would do such a thing. But Gawen helped me see it through. That young man is sharp indeed. If not for my short stature, I might have kissed him on the spot."
Jaime stared at his brother, whose seriousness lasted never more than three seconds, and smiled with helpless amusement."I advise you to give up on that. From what I know of him, such behavior would only ruin your friendship."
Tyrion grinned broadly.
Jaime patted his brother on the back."What did young Gawen say?"
Tyrion cleared his throat, reining in his smile."Littlefinger's target is likely Lord Jon Arryn himself—the man who trusts him most. Everyone knows the old lord's health is failing."
Jaime's eyes narrowed with doubt.
Tyrion continued:"You know our dear sister's temper. She's long despised Jon Arryn. And with Robert absent from the Red Keep, who could stop her from making a scene?"
Jaime had to concede that point—Cersei was indeed headstrong.
"She won't spare him out of pity for his years. The result? His health will only worsen under her provocations."
By now Jaime had nearly guessed Petyr's aim."He covets Jon's power, doesn't he?"
Tyrion nodded."Jon Arryn trusts Petyr, another man of the Vale, more than anyone. With his strength failing, he cannot manage affairs as before. The less he can do himself, the more he'll rely on that seemingly loyal and capable 'Lord of Sheep Droppings.'"
Jaime's gaze turned cold."A laughable plot. But he dared to wound Cersei."
Tyrion's voice sank."Yes. And Lannisters always pay their debts. That's why I placed Gawen in Petyr's path without hesitation. With his cunning, he'll surely guess it was my doing."
Jaime gave Tyrion's small shoulder a firm pat."Well done, brother."
Leaning closer, Tyrion said:"This morning Gawen is to meet Lord Arryn. We must find a way to keep Cersei away. If she clashes with Jon, Robert will hear of it soon enough."
Jaime thought a moment."Wouldn't it be safer if Gawen simply stayed out of sight for a while?"
Tyrion shrugged."At heart he's a knight, like you. He told me the best defense is a good offense. Words are curious things—he had me convinced in an instant."
With a mischievous grin, Tyrion added:"I imagine Littlefinger and Gawen's midnight conversation must have been… most delightful. You can trust him."
Knights never fear. Jaime could agree with that.
"Tyrion, leave Cersei to me."
Jaime thought a moment longer."There is a way. Princess Myrcella has been eager to learn new braids. Cersei has been in fine spirits of late and patient with her. The timing is perfect."
Tyrion chuckled."My poor niece. Her mother's never had much patience for such things. She'll be giddy the whole day."
Jaime shook his head with a faint smile."Cersei won't have a moment free all morning. Rest assured, I'll be watching."
He was about to leave when he halted."Tyrion, what will you do now?"
"Go back to bed, of course," Tyrion replied with a puzzled look. "They're still warm under the covers, and I mean to return."
Dream on. Jaime's eyes flickered, his tone turning grave."I'm not entirely at ease. The Crabb peninsula has little love for Lord Arryn."
Jaime's expression grew stern. Tyrion blinked, then slowly nodded in agreement.
"I'll assign you a squad of Redcloaks, just in case. Whatever happens, guard Gawen first. I'll come as soon as I can."
The Red Keep, Tower of the Hand
Gawen handed the guards Jon Arryn's invitation.
They examined it carefully before directing him upstairs to the study on the second floor.
Leaving Mondon and Anguy outside, Gawen stepped alone into the Tower of the Hand.
"Good day, Lord Gawen Crabb."
He had just crossed the wide hall and reached the stair when a smooth voice halted him.
A bald, broad figure swathed in loose robes, hands clasped, emerged from one side of the stairwell.
Varys. Gawen's brow arched. He placed a hand to his chest."Good day, my lord."
Varys ambled closer, his tone mild."The wisdom shining in your eyes tells me you know who I am."
Gawen inclined his head."I make no apologies. I inquired about the great men of the Red Keep in advance, Lord Varys."
Varys smiled broadly."In a strange place, it is wise to learn before one arrives. A fine habit indeed."
His eyes glowed with courtesy."Though I'm honored you call me a great man, allow me to protest. I am but a humble servant. They look my way only when they need me. Otherwise, they keep their polite distance."
Gawen smiled faintly."I believe I know why."
"Oh?"
Varys raised a brow, feigning curiosity.
Lowering his voice deliberately, Gawen said:"Because they are uneasy. Do not forget your office, Master of Whisperers."
Varys laughed warmly."A most curious answer."
Gawen returned his smile without a word.
Varys's eyes appraised him politely."Lord Crabb, I've just come from Lord Arryn's study—we spoke of you."
Before Gawen could reply, he continued:"Some matters Lord Petyr, as Master of Coin, does not fully grasp. I fulfilled my duty, filling in what he lacked."
Gawen's heart stirred."My thanks. Then, thanks to your diligence, my meeting with the Hand may go more smoothly?"
Varys nodded."It should be a most pleasant audience, Lord Crabb."
"I grieve for Lady Lyanna Crabb's hardships. If you have the chance, do convey my regards."
He stepped aside, extending one soft hand toward the stairs."Go on, my lord. Do not keep the Hand waiting. We shall meet again."
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