Chapter 11
STEFFON BARATHEON
The incident with Joffrey did not quite end with them going to their rooms. For Joffrey, in his infinite wisdom, had thought himself to be in the right and decided to take up the matter with their father, and as soon as Robert Baratheon heard what he had done, he hit him so hard that he nearly broke his jaw.
Their mother, since then, had been spending all her time with their eldest brother, hoping to soothe his bruised face and ego. Steffon himself had gotten quite a talking to, but in the end, his crime was simply too minor in comparison to Joffrey's cruelty.
And he had hoped things had been different. He had prayed that the years had changed his brother a little, yet he was wrong. Joffrey was still the same cruel little monster he always had been, and imagining him sitting on the throne one day made his head hurt.
Joffrey was not an idiot, well not unless he was blinded by his rage. He was smart, and he knew how to hide his true nature from the world. Even when they had been young, he would often bully Myrcella and Tommen, and if a servant were to ever testify against him, he would find ways to punish them or simply be rid of them.
Over the years, the servants all noticed the pattern, and the maids and the guards all shut their mouths on his actions. Steffon would try his best to put a stop to it, yet Joffrey was the heir apparent, and that name carried far more weight than the name of the spare.
In the end, they had come to blows when he had killed Tommen's cat, and Steffon had lost his patience. It was one reason he hated his mother as much as he did, for despite being in the know about his actions, she would never do anything to curtail him.
In her eyes, he would forever remain her prince charming, and now the result was there for all of them to see. He had now disfigured Tommen for life and had even tried to kill him with live steel.
And he could only despair after wondering what he might do when he was on the throne.
"You are sighing quite a bit more than usual," his uncle's voice tore through the silence and over the two weeks they had cut the pile in half, as Steffon now had his own desk and chair in his chambers to perform his duties.
"Well, I am thinking about the future, so one could say that I am not sighing enough," Steffon countered, still not looking away from the ledgers, and by now they had a good accounting of Petyr Baelish's schemes.
The man had left the crown with a debt of some five and a half million, of which he had taken some million or so for himself. The search was still ongoing, but it was a general consensus that the man had left Westeros altogether, and his destination remained a secret still. However, he knew of only one man capable of arranging an escape like this.
And if his guess was right, then their future was even bleaker than he had imagined. He had thought that with the Lannisters firmly rooted in the Capitol, he could avoid a confrontation with the Starks and save Tyrion the hassle of a stint in the Skycells of the Eyrie.
His existence was simply too vital for everything to go as believed it might, but he had not expected Baelish to leave the picture so soon. And if he was indeed going to Pentosh to swear allegiance to Daenerys and her brother, then the entire board would have been flipped for all intents and purposes.
"You speak of your brother," Tyrion guessed right, and Steffon finally looked from the ledgers, as he put away the quill.
"You saw what he did," he pointed out, and Tyrion nodded.
"It was cruel and idiotic. Yet he has no remorse over it at all. He still thinks that he was in the right, and that he has done nothing wrong," and that was perhaps his most fatal flaw, for he believed himself to be perfect.
"I would argue against you if I could, but he is a piece of shit," Tyrion countered, and his own encounters with Joffrey had been less than cordial, and his twin was rather fond of calling him by his unceremonious name, the Imp.
Tyrion had the patience to not rise to his level, at least not infront of him.
"He is smart enough to hide his cruelties most of the time, but that does not change the fact that he is a cruel and fickle monster," and he is to be their King.
Well, unless Steffon decided to do something about that.
"Well, Robert believes a woman's touch might just be soothing balm your brothers need," and now their eyes met, as Tyrion put down his own quill.
"He is going to betroth her to the Stark girl," and he was surprised that this had already gotten out.
"Who told you?" and Tyrion smiled with his crooked face.
"I have my ways," and he knew that this was coming, and there was little that he could do to stop this. Sansa Stark was a naive girl, completely untrained in the ways of courtly games and politics.
The girl was a plump white swan, and Joffrey would swallow her whole and leave no bones.
"I have heard she is quite a beauty," Tyrion added, as he poured himself some wine.
"That won't save her," he answered without thinking, and Tyrion's smile slipped.
"Well, how can you say that, when you haven't enjoyed a woman's warm embrace yourself?" and this had become a running joke between them, as he tried to steer him down an unlikely path.
"What do you say?" he asked with a devilish grin.
"Robert's away, and your mother is busy with Tommen and Joffrey. I doubt you will have a better opportunity than this," and he was right in that, and as he opened his mouth to deny him once more.
"I will accept no excuses," he declared.
"This will also give me the time to introduce to the new Mistress of my brothel," and that intrigued him, for Steffon had sold him back the place at quite a hefty profit and now Tyrion Lannister was a proud owner of Baelish's fine establishments.
"So, you have found someone," and he was already the Master of Coin, and could hardly manage such a place by himself. So, he had been looking for a Mistress to do it for him, and it seemed like he had found someone at last.
"I have, though I will warn you. She is off limits," and Steffon raised his hands in surrender.
"Your brothel, your rules," he finally capitulated to his insistence, for his frustrations had been tearing at him for some time now. It would serve him well to relax a bit.
"Still, if mother ever finds out about this. I will blame it all on you," and Tyrion's face lit up in triumph.
"Finally, I have managed to corrupt you," and he had indeed, though his mind still lingered on the subject of one Sansa Stark.
"Perhaps I should do the same for your brothe..."
"NO!" he cut in before the idea could fester, as Tyrion frowned.
"Don't," he warned, and now Tyrion was looking at him with a frown once more.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you don't know how he is," and Tyrion did not believe him, and he could not believe it either, but a few of his servants had told him quite a few whispers about his own twin.
"Rumor has it that a maid tried to scurry her way into his bed last year," and that was not so out of the ordinary. Most of them were young, naive girls who thought that they could change their lives by having a Prince fall in love with them.
"And?" and now Tyrion was interested.
"I was not told the details, but the woman has not been seen ever since," and that only meant one thing.
"He killed her," and he wouldn't put it past him. He treated people and servants like a sport, and his lies and stories had gotten many a servant whipped in their youth.
"I don't know. The servants were all too afraid to say anything, but that is the most likely scenario," and Tyrion had no answer as he looked away from him.
"Now I too worry for the Stark girl," and he was right to.
"And I worry for the realm," the words filled the room with tension, and it was obvious to him.
"He will ruin us all," and Tyrion did not deny him.
"If he doesn't change, you might be right in your fears," and Tyrion was rubbing his chin.
"Still, you two are twins. A change in succession would not be so out of the ordinary," and Tyrion's words could be considered treason, as Steffon's head snapped towards his uncle.
"Please, do not pretend as if the thought has not crossed your mind," and he would be lying if he were to say that it had not, but the consequences and implications of such words were too complicated.
"He is the elder son," Steffon countered.
"By what, a few minutes. It doesn't matter. Anyone with half an eye could tell that you are far more suited to the Crown than your twin," and he might indeed be more suited, but Joffrey would never accept that.
"It doesn't matter who is more suited to the Crown and who is not. He is the eldest son, and he will be the King, and we will all suffer for it," and Tyrion was out of his chair.
"Not unless someone puts the idea in Robert's mind," Tyrion suggested, as he came and pulled up a chair right beside him.
"Unlike your mother, Robert is not blind to Joffrey's faults. If presented with the facts that Joffrey would ruin his legacy and cause great harm to the realm, he could be forced to reconsider the succession," and he was not going to discuss this anymore.
"No. It's impossib..."
"You said so yourself that you worry for the future of the realm if he were to become the King. Then take charge, and make sure that the future is not as bleak as fear it to be," and that was all well and good, but there was one major flaw in all this.
"Joffrey will never accept this, and unlike him, I do not have the heart for kinslaying," and Tyrion shook his head.
"It will never come to that," and still he was in denial.
"We shouldn't talk about this," Steffon declared with some finality as he met his uncle's mismatched eyes.
"As you wish, but think about it," and his mind would even if he were to try and not to.
"I have a question of my own," he began, and Tyrion nodded.
"We are both your nephews. Why would you choose one over the other?" and Tyrion shrugged.
"Because now I am also Tyrion Lannister and the Master of Coin," and there was a devious grin on his face as he uttered that answer, and he knew that there was some selfishness involved in the suggestion on his part.
Tyrion definitely knew of his father's intentions regarding him, and if he were to replace Joffrey as then it would ruin Tywin Lannister's plans at once.
"I must think of the realm now as well," and that was not the whole answer, but some words were better left unsaid.
"And then there is the fact that you helped me even when you did not have to," and this was a genuine answer.
"You helped me get a seat on the council. And that makes the choice rather easy to make," and he was out of his chair.
"Plus, I am not asking you to kill him," even though Steffon knew that it just might come to that.
"I am simply asking you to spare the realm another Mad King," and with that final whisper they found themselves interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in," Tyrion answered, and the door to the office opened, and the smell of Myrish perfume hit his nose first as a bald man with amethyst eyes stepped into the room.
He wore a simple long robe, and the sleeves hid away his hands as he gave them both a smile.
"It is quite a lovely evening, isn't it, Lord Tyrion, Prince Steffon," and now stood infront of him perhaps the most dangerous man in the realm, and though he wielded no blade or armies, Steffon knew very well that the Spider could bring down the capital with nothing but words.
"Indeed it is, Lord Varys," and the bald man smiled as he turned towards Tyrion.
"You have my heartfelt congratulations on your elevation. I am certain that you will be a valuable addition to the King's Council," and Steffon wondered in his heart just how much of their whispers had he heard.
Still, his face gave no hint as he turned towards him.
"You are very kind, Lord Varys. However, I will be in need of your services quite a bit. I am afraid our last Master of Coin has left us in quite a mess," and he nodded.
"Anything, my lord. Though I believe the Crown was out of waters," and he gave a frown as he rubbed his chin.
"After all, hasn't Lord Tywin pledged another million gold coins to the Crown now?" and even he did not know that, as his head snapped towards Tyrion, whose eyes narrowed.
"Ahh, you are well informed," and so his grandfather had accepted the request.
"It is my job to be well informed," and now Tyrion struck back.
"If only you had been just as well informed about the crimes of our former Master of Coin," and if the taunt affected him, Varys did not flinch.
"Yes indeed. Though I came here to discuss the very person," and now their interests were piqued.
"But first, I am afraid I owe you an apology, my Prince," and he bowed his head to him.
"My negligence nearly cost you your life, and I shall forever be regretful of that," and Steffon simply gave a nod.
"It doesn't matter now. Though I am interested in what you have learned about the traitor," and he rose once more.
"Yes, I believe I have finally found a trace of him. The traitor Baelish has been spotted in the streets of Pentosh," and Steffon stiffened at that.
"And I don't believe you know, but the city is also host to the exiled..."
"...Targaryens," Steffon finished, and now he was certain that Baelish's escape was his doing. That the man had enticed the bastard to his side either through blackmail or greed.
"I have already sent a rider for the King, but we now know his motive behind the attack," and so now he was going to let the Targaryens bear the blame for it.
"But why would a man such as him hold such loyalty for the Targaryens. He was a lord of nothing, and yet Robert had him elevated to the Master of Coin. What would the Targaryens offer him?" and he was right in his conjecture.
"I am afraid I cannot speak to that, my lord," and now Steffon had his eyes.
"Perhaps he did not do it for the Targaryens at all," he pointed out, as he met the Spider's ominous gaze.
"Perhaps he attacked me because he knew that his secrets would be uncovered, and yet once the attack failed, someone offered him a chance to save his life," and despite being guilty of the very crime he spoke of, Varys did not even flinch, nor did his eyes shift at all.
"An interesting theory. One that I will definitely pursue," he answered.
"You should," Tyrion cut in.
"Still, I wanted to come here to inform you about this before anyone else. Now with this, you need not feel nervous about accompanying your uncle on that secret trip," and that was a warning, and his heart skipped a beat at those words.
"I do hope you have a good time," and with that, he left them alone once more, as Tyrion clicked his tongue.
"Fucking bastard," and he had definitely heard them. He definitely had.
"The Spider is a dangerous man, and you shouldn't have insinuated what you did," Tyrion lectured him a bit sternly.
"I think he is the one who helped Baelish escape," and now Tyrion's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the door.
"You think he is a Targaryen loyalist," and he did not know that.
"Do you really believe that he did not know of Baelish's crimes?" he questioned, and Tyrion had no answer for him.
"He was brought to the court by the Mad King. Who knows where his loyalties lie?" and Tyrion nodded.
"I will look into it, but you have to understand we have to be cautious," and he knew that well.
"The Spider has spun himself quite a web over the years. If we are to move against him, we must disentangle it slowly and surely," and in that web lay another secret, one that could ruin his own life.
"I know," and Tyrion sighed.
"Well, you should go now and have dinner. I do hope that you know your way around these Halls to meet me at the gates at Sundown," and he did indeed know these Halls well enough.
It was getting pretty late indeed.
"I will be there...."
.
.
.
And so he had his dinner, and afterwards, with a cloak covering his face, he slid through the Halls until he reached the gates to meet up with his uncle, as they both headed out into the City. The street of Silk was a few minutes' ride from the castle, and soon enough, he was in Baelish's fine establishment once more.
Quite a few things had changed, and the floors had all been repaired, yet the place still reeked of sweat and human flesh, before Tyrion called out in a booming voice.
"Ah, my dear Mistress, I have brought you a guest," and a young girl turned her head to face him, and he saw her face light up in an instant as she spotted Tyrion.
"You are here again, my lord. It seems like you can't get enough of someone," and he laughed, as he kissed her hand, and one could make out her body through her sheer gown, which did little to hide her pale skin. The gown covered only the front of her body, and even in that one could see through it quite easily, and her thin and unblemished back was there for all to see.
"Well, I am afraid I am not the star here today. I have brought you quite a prize," and at his insistence, he lowered his hood, as the girl's eyes widened.
"A Prince," and she seemed surprised.
"And not just that a very rich and virgin Prince," and he chose to intervene.
"I am afraid he is wrong on one of these things, my lady," and she raised a brow as he asked for her hand and gave it a light kiss.
"I am only rich," and now she raised a brow.
"He is quite the charmer. Perhaps, I will take him for myself," and Tyrion slapped her behind.
"AHHH!" she winced as he frowned in pretend rage.
"Have you forgotten who here owns this place?" and her face shifted in an instant.
"I am yours, my lord. Tonight and for all the nights to come," and by now he had a pretty good idea what her name was.
"Steffon. This here is the Mistress of this place, Shae," and she smiled at that.
"I am honored to meet you, my Prince. Tell me about your preference, and I shall make arrangements accordingly...."
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me through my Patre 0n. Your support and patr 0nage are what make all this possible. So, drop a sub if you can. It would help me out quite a bit.
www.Patre 0n.com/Drkest
Have a fantastic day!
PS: Do check out my new A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms fic as well, if you can. It's called The Dreambreaker, and it is a Matarys Targaryen SI.