( Tywin POV )
Tywin Lannister watched dispassionately as Ser Ilyn Payne screamed and cried upon the floor. The young man had done something foolish, and the king had punished him for it. He had paid the price of his tongue for voicing what had gradually become reality. Aerys was becoming an increasingly bad king, and Tywin was forced to hold the realm together by his will and wit lest his old friend's increasingly erratic decisions sunder it apart.
The necklace of interlocking copper hands around his neck felt heavier than ever. This was not how he had wanted things to be.
Whatever friendship has once existed between Aerys and himself was growing dim. When he counseled neutrality in Essos, Aerys insisted on allying themselves to Volantis, a distant power with no real value to Westeros, and one that made famous use of slaves as well. Meanwhile, Aerys picked a fight with Bravos by refusing to pay his debts to the Iron Bank, something Tywin ultimately had to resolve out of House Lannister's purse to maintain the solvency of the crown.
And now one of his most loyal men. His captain of the guard was weeping on the floor, mute forever based on an admittedly foolish slip of the tongue. He had kept his composure during the trial, and indeed through the punishment, but Tyein had hurried his subordinate back to the office of the hand, where he had broken down severely.
Tywin knelt down at his side, his face set in a frown. What Ilyn had said had been foolish, but that did not mean he deserved this, nor would he let his debt to this man go unpaid.
"Ilyn." Tywin placed his hand on the man's upper arm. He was unused to comforting anyone, save for his wife, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the need for it here. "Ilyn, listen to me."
The man was well-trained and determined. He had been an exceptionally competent captain of the guard, and displaying that competence, he was able to blink himself down from his dry sobbing in but a moment, looking up at Tywin, almost as if he was waiting for orders. Yes, Ilyn was a loyal man indeed.
Tywin would reward him for that.
"There will be an anniversary tournament in several moons to celebrate King Aerys's ten years on the throne," Tywin told the man. In truth, Ilyn was already aware of it, but the man likely wasn't thinking straight at the moment anyway. "Joanna and my children will be visiting the capital. When they return to Casterly Rock, you will go with them and stay there."
The young man looked up at him, reaching up and clasping his hand around Tywin's arm, his lips moving, but only a raspy breathing escaping his lungs.
Tywin nodded slightly, having some understanding of the man's mind. "Aye, you will have a place within the court of House Lannister from now until the day you die, and I will see to it that House Pyne is well rewarded also." He said the last part quietly.
Ilyn nodded in understanding, and Tywin let a grim smile cross his lips. "A Lannister pays his debts." The words had many meanings to Tywin, but here it was meant in the conventional sense. He would not make his loyal vassal suffer needlessly.
He was not like Aerys in that way.
Ilyn eventually managed to pull himself together, the young man fixed his greasy black hair, and despite the severity of his suffering, took up his post by the entrance to Tywin's office.
Good.
Tywin returned to his desk. With the whole fuss over Ilyn and Aerys's latest tantrum this morning, he had letters he still needed to read. It wasn't a tall stack, not by his standards since he'd become hand, but there were still some pressing affairs that needed his attention.
'Another request for patrol work in the Kingswood…' he let out a low grumble and set the letter to the side. Banditry wasn't terribly uncommon in most of Westeros, and sending men into the Kingswood was about as fruitful as sending them into the mountains of the vale to hunt out hill tribesmen. If a village was burned to the ground then a local purge might be necessary, but a few extortionists running rackets out of caves and thickets in the huge forest wasn't worth the crown's time. Let the Stormlands and Reacher lords hand it.
There were also a few reports from Kevan on the status of the Westerlands. Grain harvests and storage for the next winter. Developments in the fishing industry with a bumper year of cod and monkfish finding their way into Westerland's nets. There were a few other notable events, a lordling born here or there, and Tywin put them to memory before continuing to read.
Updates on the preparations for the anniversary tourney, with all the budgets carefully planned and tracked. Tourneys were the money-sink to end all money-sinks, but the King wanted to celebrate his decade on the throne (and what few things he'd achieved for it). Tywin was of course required to accommodate, though at least by paying careful attention to the books he could avoid the sort of graft that was typical of these things.
No, there was no reason to order new tournament banners when the banners from Aerys's coronation tournament were still in storage. Stands simply needed to be reassembled properly, and sufficient quality food and materials arranged in advance. A well-managed tourney would cost a third of the price of a poorly managed one. He got to work writing out a few orders for the various men responsible for the preparations, mostly quartermasters from amongst the Gold-Cloaks and then went back to his letters.
The next one, contrary to his expectations, actually brought a smile to his face. The letter, sealed with his own stamp, could only be from Joanna.
Tywin broke the seal without hesitation, his typical efficiency forgotten in his haste, he brought the unsealed envelope gently to his nose. Her perfume smelled of daisies and sugar. It always did, and he knew she went and rubbed a bit of it on her letters before she sent them to him. She always had, ever since they were young and first engaged to each other. He let the scent wash over him, taken back to love and youth and heady days of familial contentment. Tywin was not a man who could ever be satisfied with a peaceful life, not for long at any rate, but his heart still yearned for those wonderful times when things were simple and they were together.
He continued to smile as he flipped open the letter. Her handwriting was neat and precise as always as she gave her own update on things at Casterly Rock, the various domestic affairs that Kevan hardly ever noticed or cared for. This or that servant having children, or whether the chefs were doing a good job with the cooking.
Tywin knew that she cared as deeply for the affairs at the Rock as he did for the Kingdom, and she set to it with just as much determination. It took a sharp-minded woman, he would freely admit, to administrate some thousands of personnel, miners, servants, guards, and more across the hollow mountain the Lannisters called home. Joanna took to it with gusto, tracking everything from the work at the docks and shipyard to the status of guard schedules at the Lion's Gate.
And of course, she also found time to mother the children and to send him news of their growth.
'It seems I've a rising talent for a son.' Tywin smiled as he read about Jaime's apparent natural skill in swordplay, praised by Ser Bruns, the master at arms at the Rock, for taking to the most basic lessons like a fish to water. The thought made Tywin smile, he'd never been particularly skillful with weapons himself. There'd been little opportunity to be a great knight, not under his father's ineffectual reign.
It pleased him to see Jaime proving his aptitude in that direction. Cersei was apparently upset that she wasn't getting the same lessons. The girl must be having a childish flight of fancy about being a lady warrior as if they were savage Northmen or Ironborn. Ah well, she'd have to grow apart from her twin brother soon enough, but he had full confidence that Joanna could dissuade his daughter from childish fantasies in time.
The news about his younger son raised his eyebrow, however. 'Already? I knew he learned to speak early but…' Callum had learned his letters at not even 4 years? Tywin did not know other men's children in any great detail, but still, that seemed too fast.
Perhaps his second son was just Joanna's favorite and she was exaggerating his intelligence, but he hadn't known her to do so before. She even claimed he was further along with them than Jaime. It was not… a bad thing, no it was a good thing if it was true, but Tywin wasn't sure what to make of it, he had little experience with his youngest son having spent most of his life in King's landing.
Tywin resolved that he'd have to get to know the boy better when he arrived in the city. Perhaps if he was especially intelligent as Joanna said, he might… well Tywin would wait and see, it was too early to think that far ahead. Jaime and Callum were both still children after all.
Yes, he'd need to see the boy himself before he started making any plans. He needed to see Joanna as well, and little Jaime and Cersei too of course.
Tywin missed his family.
The anniversary tournament, wasteful as it was, couldn't come soon enough.
...
Chronicle of the Targaryen Dynasty in the Seven Kingdoms
Maester Willem
272 AC- Second moon
Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, announces the organization of an anniversary tourney to celebrate ten years of King Aerys's reign on the Iron Throne. Invitations are sent to all the high lords of the Seven Kingdoms to attend.
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