A baker of empty promises never likes another of his kind.
Gawen had no wish to take the bait.
Duke Jon's will to drive him out of King's Landing was firm.
It was now mid-September of the year 297 AC. By the story's course, Duke Jon's "departure" was still half a year away.
If Gawen delayed wisely, could he stretch matters until then?One could say his careful plans had already been ruined—by none other than Littlefinger, Petyr Baelish.
There were two reasons Gawen had allowed Petyr to remain alive.
First, he intended to use Petyr in league with Lady Lysa Arryn to bring down Jon Arryn himself.
Second, Baelish's scheming had forced Gawen to face Jon prematurely. Sparing his life meant leaving Petyr to clean up the mess he had made; the cost was lowest that way. That was why, on that very night, Gawen had gone to "visit" him.
With his shrewdness, Petyr knew full well what must be done to safeguard his own interests.
Would Baelish later scheme for revenge in secret? Gawen would not be a passive man, waiting to be struck, parrying, and countering in endless circles.
That was not his way. Whether Petyr had acted in malice or folly, striking iron had placed him firmly on Gawen's "must be removed" list.
Once Jon Arryn made his exit, barring upheaval, Gawen would hardly be so foolish as to keep Petyr alive through the new year.
And yet—one foot already planted in the game of thrones—he knew there were no eternal enemies. A true player must ever remain flexible.
To be named Protector of the Peninsula was, of course, no small honor. Yet Gawen and Jon Arryn were far from equals, and unequal bargains never bore fairness.
He did not even wish to hear what the Duke's "terms" might be.
Shaking his head, he answered with sincere tone,"I am grateful for your regard, my lord. But to claim such a title, one must first bear its weight. My abilities do not yet merit the name of Protector."
Jon's clouded eyes seemed to stir with memory—of young Robert Baratheon, once telling him of a slippery, elusive fish found in the Stormlands. What was it called again…?
He drew himself back from reverie, saying,"Perhaps if you complete a task for me, then you will be worthy of the title."
The pressure in his words left Gawen with a sense of powerlessness he loathed.
He crushed down the sudden spark of murderous intent.
Compared with Jon Arryn's surface gentleness, Queen Cersei's open sharpness felt almost endearing.
At that moment, Gawen found himself missing his "Lady Cersei."
Feigning hesitation, he replied weakly,"My lord Duke, so long as it does not violate Crabb honor, I will listen."
Jon Arryn disliked him, so any task he offered would hardly be to Gawen's pleasure. Still, he left himself a measure of escape in his answer.
You dare to speak of noble honor? To Jon's mind, Gawen's refusal to confess his crimes was itself dishonorable.
At length, the Duke spoke:"You know that two Targaryen hatchlings survived, do you not?"
His eyes fixed unblinking upon the young baron.
Gawen shook his head at first, then his pupils contracted.
After a pause, he sighed:"My lord, the war ended long ago. Victory and defeat were already decided."
Jon answered with the stubbornness of age:"So long as dragon's blood endures—"
But Gawen, ever perceptive, suddenly felt the presence of a third watcher.
He rose sharply from his chair."Forgive me, my lord—yet is there another in this chamber?"
The Duke, vexed at being interrupted, then caught Gawen's unease himself. Eyes narrowing, he shook his head.
Gawen moved to the rear wall, rapping his knuckles against the plaster.
Though no hollow sound came, he said with certainty,"Here. Just here—I felt another presence."
Jon Arryn knew Gawen would not trifle with such a jest. Shaking, he rose and cried,"Guards!"
The door burst open with a crash. Four gold cloaks strode in, blades drawn, moving to surround the baron.
Jon waved his hand."Not him. Check the wall. Thoroughly."
Gawen stepped aside, letting them strike and prod the surface.
At last, one sharp-eyed guardsman pointed out a faint seam."My lord, this join seems amiss."
Jon's gaze cut to Gawen, who stood calm as stone. Then he gave the order without hesitation:"Fetch hammers. Break it open."
Two heavy hammers were brought, and the wall was smashed apart, dust rising in clouds.
With a final crash, a section of wall toppled away, revealing a narrow hidden space.
Jon Arryn's face went cold as the dust settled."No wonder the Red Keep has no secrets…"
Gawen judged it time to withdraw. He bowed."My lord Duke, I shall take my leave."
Jon did not turn from the exposed passage, but nodded.
As Gawen neared the door, the Duke's voice followed:"Baron, for today's deed, you shall have your reward."
Gawen halted, forced to turn and bow.
"And more—by your wit, you know what I mean. I grant you one month. Then I will have your answer."
Outside the Tower of the Hand.
The moment he stepped out, Gawen beheld Tyrion Lannister, weary-eyed, flanked by some twenty Lannister redcloaks in full armor.
Mondon and Anguy hurried to his side.
"My lord," Anguy murmured, "they arrived the instant you went inside."
Gawen gave a small nod, then approached Tyrion."Good day, Lord Tyrion."
The dwarf blinked blearily, waved the redcloaks away, and said,"You're out too soon. A pity—had you delayed, you'd have witnessed the ferocity of Ser Imp and the lion's roar."
Gawen chuckled softly, patting Tyrion's arm in thanks.
Tyrion grinned."Better thank Jaime, not me. I cannot command the redcloaks—this was his arrangement."
"Then I thank you both," Gawen replied. "Had I known the lion stood ready outside, I'd have struck the old duke twice for sport."
Tyrion burst into laughter."I like your metaphors. So today's meeting went well enough, then?"
Gawen spread his hands."Time yet remains."
Tyrion clapped his thigh."Good news, then. We'll find a way. The two sharpest minds in King's Landing are both here—relax."
With a sly smile, he added,"And to crown it, my dear sister has invited us to dine. I am honored. You, it seems, have served her very well indeed—with such skill, in fact, that she is… most satisfied. Heh."
Gawen was left at a loss for words."…"
.
.
.
🔥 The Throne's Last Flame — A Song Forged in Ice and Wrath 🔥
📯 Lords and Ladies of the Realm, heed the call! 📯
The saga burns ever brighter—30 chapters ahead now await, available only to those who swear their loyalty on Patreon. 🐉❄️🔥
Walk among dragons, defy the cold, and stake your claim in a world where crowns are won with fire and fury.
🔗 Claim your place: www.patreon.com/DrManhattanEN
👤 Known on Patreon as: DrManhattanEN
Your loyalty feeds the flame. And fire remembers.