The New Hand Who: Lord Tyrith Lannister, ? When: Day 54 Where: The Tower of the Hand Rating: PGish Status: Open.
Tyrith's face had been a blank mask all day. An occasional smile threatened, but it was never a pleasant expression- it was the one that sent crews running over a deck and men's hands moving to their weapons. The Great Lion was in a mood to hunt. He let his lady wife see to the arrrangement of their household in the tower, and busied himself in the study. Ravens came and went, messengers and pages ran. It was not a day to let Tyrith see them walking. Penrose's illness had held the man back and had let things go undone which should have long since been finished.
There was also a lingering matter of dragons.
"Rhaeys Targaryen," Tyrith said to the man who stood in his study. "I want him found, and Aeria as well."
"The fires requre payment for such prizes."
"Here." He handed the man the required price, and gold besides. "Ask your fires."
The red priest bowed and took his leave, donning the dark cloak and cowl to hide himself again before he left the Hand's presence.
Tyrith went to the windows and looked out over the city, and waited.