secrets and spies Who: Jaehaerys, Tyrith Where: Summerhall, the king's chambers When: The day after Lya and Baelor bring in the body Rating: PG-13 Status: CLOSED. completed log.
Jaehaerys had sent for Lord Lannister at his first opportunity, knowing that this would be a long audience. He had much to discuss with his Warden of the West and none of it was easy or fit for public hearing. The days since the tourney had passed in a blur of hidden grief and endless, pointless activity. Search parties had organized to comb the land for clues to the whereabouts of a corpse- Elia's name had been called throughout the forest but there was no answer and never would be. Jaehaerys had drunk more Arbor gold in the last few days than even he would have thought possible.
He had been told Tyrith had returned but at first the search for his father's killers had seemed irrelevent. He knew it wasn't- it could never be- but the fresh wound hurt worse than the old. Still, it had to be dealt with. The king took another drink of the strong wine that had been his constant companion in the last week, and refilled his goblet. A knock at the door and a wave of his hand to the page was all his acknowlegement of the movement in the world around him.
"Leave us," he told the boy without looking up from the full glass. The light shone through the gold wine in its crystal goblet and the movement as he turned the glass held his attention.
Tyrith watched the page scurry from the room like one reprieved and looked at the king, who was absorbed in his cup. He could see why the page was so eager to be away- one look at the king told him an entire book's worth of tales. So he had loved her after all. Poor young fool. The Warden of the West bowed to his king. "Your grace, I am sorry for your loss."
"Again. You said something like that once before.... and your daughter said the same thing." There was a twist of amusement in Jaehaerys' tone. "Toria, not the other one. The gossips say that one is your mistress- does your wife know the truth?"
"She does now. I plan to acknowledge Harper's paternity soon."
"Poor Harper." Jaehaerys took a drink. "Your doing so won't alienate House Stark?"
"It may not please my wife, but the Starks have had bastards among them before. They do now in fact."
Jaehaerys snorted. He'd all but forgotten about Lyanora Stark's whelp. "You have news for me?"
Tyrith nodded. "It took some time, my king, but I found the chink in the wall." As he spoke, he took a book from his doublet and offered it to the king. It was a small volume, but the leather binding was well done and costly. "This is an interesting treatise on the weaknesses of dragons and their ultimate failure as a part of the world and an argument against their continued use. The author believes they are only useful as weapons and even then should be managed so as to avoid them achieving the power of Balerion the Black Dread or the other great dragons."
Jaehaerys' brows raised as he accepted the book. He flipped through the pages. "Strange believes. Is this remarkable mind still with us?"
"Alas no. Archmaester Cedric died some time ago, repenting of ever having written it."
The king looked at Tyrith, letting a beat of silence pass between them. "I imagine he did." He studied the lord's green eyes, but there was no hint of emotion on the subject. There never was. "Poor man to have spent so much of life so lost... You don't by chance know how many of these are in existence now?"
"Two, your grace. One you hold- the other is in the Citadel, owned by the new archmaester, Korbyn Bracken."
Jaehaerys nodded. "Make sure it stays there. But this---"
"Is not all." Tyrith smiled. "I heard from Maester Cedric of a powerful weapon, devised by the Citadel and much based upon his work."
That caught the king's attention. "A weapon? The Citadel?"
"Indeed. I discovered where it was developed, and where several copies of it reside- in possession of the Citadel itself."
The silence was thunderous. "This weapon... it wouldn't happen to use steel arrows?"
"A most astute guess, my liege." Tyrith's eyes were cold as his thoughts moved back in time, to two years before. "It would seem that it does- much like the description given by Prince Rhaeys once."
The king's thoughts were moving swiftly. The Tyrells must have known- Selester was fond of his pets in the Citadel. His father's dragon had died that same day.... For a few frozen weeks the world had been without dragons...
"I will see Lord Selester soon. I think it is past time a king enjoyed the beauty of Highgarden." He paused, a frown creased his brow. "But why kill Elia?" he asked softly, half to himself. "Why even rob us of her body..."
Tyrith rocked back on his heels, startled by the leap in subject. He was surprised the king wanted to discuss this, and even more surprised at the direction of Jaehaerys' thoughts. Though he realized it was not so unrelated perhaps in the king's view. He hesitated before replying. "There... may be no relation between the crimes, majesty."
"Damn it, Tyrith, you know better than anyone their tricks. How could it be anything but related?" Jaehaerys scowled, the glass paused halfway to his lips. "They wish to see our line perish and she might have been carrying a child..." Unlikely because Elia knew how to avoid that, but still possible. He took a drink.
"Elia's death--"
"Was brutal beyond imagining! Why hurt her so wretchedly unless she discovered some blasted secret of their disgusting order? The Tyrells are here, perhaps she did find some link between them and their white-robed vultures..."
Tyrith searched for a safe passage through the dangers of the king's temper. "From what your uncle told me... it seems more personal than that. For her sake, perhaps you should question those closer to her. Attackers with a certain turn of viciousness tend to be those close to their victim... An asassin would perform such a killing but only if their mission is to send a message. Whoever make this message then covered it up twice over- that would be the action of someone paniced, remorseful... an amateur."
Jaheaerys downed his glass and filled it again. "Fucking bastards..." he paused, an unwelcome moment of logic pushing through the fog of alcohol and loss. Remorse, close to... Elia screaming in his dreams. "My mother was much at odds with her sister in these last months... and her pet priestess is gone..."
Tyrith's eyes widened. The possibility had occurred to him but he had not expected Jaehaerys to consider it- at least not so soon. Aeria's temper had not been softened by the trials of teh last years, and Elia had outright defied the queen and brought her brother into it. That rift between Prince Myrwin and his elder sister was deep and sudden, in Tyrith's estimation. Why else would Aeria have left her brother's side with the prince so ill, and for something as fleeting as a tourney? Why else but to stop the marriage she had so opposed without fear of his interference? Of all the world, Myrwin was perhaps the single soul yet alive who could exercise any influence on the queen... Tyrith was silent as those thoughts chased one another through his head. "Your Grace must follow every possible path, of course," he said at last.
Tyrith's silence was answer enough. Jaehaerys swore and took another drink. If his mother had ordered her dead, would she not at least-- no, there was no point in finishing this inquiry. Not now. "It could have easily been you, angling to keep a spot on the throne open for your daughter."
"It could then have been any lord with an eligible daughter." Tyrith did not bat an eye. "It could have been me, among that crowd of many."
The king glared at him. "They say your daughter staged the attempt on my uncle's life to endear herself to House Martell."
"Your grace has met my daughter. Does Toria strike you as a fool? She has been close friends with Princess Elia for years- why stage such a farce when she has already won friendships from that quarter?"
Jaehaerys filled his glass again and filled a second which he held out to Tyrith. "Then you would support a match between her and the prince?"
Tyrith accepted the glass but held Jaehaerys' eyes. The king was well in his cups, but he guessed not drunk- at least not yet. "The Prince of Dorne is a match suitable to a daughter of house Lannister."
"He's like to be an invalid for the rest of his life."
"There seems to be some debate on that- certainly headaches and less strength than before but there are lords with worse afflictions." Tyrith took a careful sip of his wine.
"So you are making an offer to him?"
"I have thought of it, I have not done it." Tyrith regarded the king warily. "Why the sudden interest in my child's marriage, your grace?"
Jaehaerys sighed heavily, taking a drink. "I have asked my mother to remain in Sunspear for a time after she accompanies Elia's bones back to Dorne. It's going to be a hornets' nest now- first Myrwin and now Elia? They'll be screaming for blood, and I need eyes and ears in the halls of the Sun. Unfortunately my mother..." He took another drink. "I would be an idiot to entrust it to her entirely. She is not herself, and you know it well. Elia's death has hit her hard."
The picture was clear enough now. "Toria is an outsider. She would be no more trusted than a scorpion."
"A sjngle scorpion in a scorpion pit is not so easily spotted." Jaehaerys leaned forward and looked at Tyrith with violet eyes that were far more clear than the amount of wine in his system should have allowed. "She is a stranger who saved their prince's life, and mourns their little princess with them. She is known among Elia's friends as a fellow confidante and can play their games, sing their songs. Tell me where is another in this court who can do the same?"
Tyrith frowned. The blasted boy was right. Harper might serve for her Lysene birth, with the ties between Dorne and the empire so close as they were... but his trueborn daughter could be held in higher honor. "I have given a son and heir already to your majesty's service," he pointed out.
"A son who would have made a ruin of all that you have built, by his very nature and honor," Jaehaerys countered. "And I have looked the other way at your... excesses, which have so comfortably padded the coffers of your great rock, and given you proof of gratitude beyond that. You may have other daughters as fair, my lord, but you may not have another king as gracious. Make the offer."
He inclined his head in acknowledgment of his king's skill. "As your grace commands."
Jaehaerys leaned back in his seat, a grin spreading across his face. "That was far too easy. But never mind- I am only surprised you did not press me to make her queen instead."
"It would be an honor I dream not of." Tyrith relaxed, but waited for the next change in the boy's demeanor.
"Well said. Now the truth, Tyrith."
"She is not... the queen you would need."
"But your bastard might be just the right sort of mistress."
"Harper chooses her own path."
"You want her recognized," Jaehaerys pointed out.
"That is to grant her protection. Westeros is not Lys, and Harper does not perhaps understand that yet."
"How was your visit across the Narrow Sea?"
"It went well, though there is trouble among the captains, and the Braavosi rebels are not yet quiet. And I have had troubling news of it since my departure..."
"How is fair Marinne?"
"Beautiful as always, your grace. She sends her regards and says your last stay in Lys was far too short."
"You didn't happen to--" he stopped short. "Meet with my great-uncles?"
"Prince Sandro was at sea, but his Serenity, Prince Sahar was most gracious, though ill. Your... cousins, also send their love. Unfortunately their position is tenuous at best and I fear the li Saverio rule is in question. There are rumors of a plot against your cousin, and if his brother comes to power in his stead..." Tyrith shrugged.
Jaehaerys relaxed and let out a breath he had not known he was holding. If Sahar passed, then perhaps so too would the end of his desparate bargain... "Thank you, Lord Lannister. I will not forget our talk here today."
Hearing the note of dismissal in the king's voice, Tyrith bowed low and took his leave. "My thanks, your majesty."