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The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 8: Tywin's Bane
🕑 Added 2024-05-17 12:00:08 +0000 UTC273 AC, Casterly Rock
Two moons had passed since Tyrion was born, since Joanna almost bled to death on the birthing bed. News had already spread of the babe’s deformities and hideousness throughout the realm, even reaching the King's ear. The smallfolk and nobles alike had already dubbed the infant retched names like The Imp, Tywin’s Bane, and the demonic dwarf.
For the first few weeks, Joanna was left bedridden, the labor taking its toll on the woman, still she resonated strength, retaining her pride and stature even with her near encounter with the Stranger.
Joanna refused to be seen as weak, pregnancy was a woman’s battlefield and she had once again conquered it. It was disheartening to learn that she could never become pregnant again without risking her life, but she did not regret having her youngest child and she never would.
Her thoughts darkened as she thought about Tyrion and his placement in their family. While Jaime had taken to his new brother, asking to see him at all times of the day and being so incredibly gentle whenever he was allowed to hold him, Tywin and Cersei were different.
Tywin did not outright say he was angered, but Joanna knew her husband well enough to know that he was disappointed and ashamed by Tyrion’s condition. The man could barely look at his second son, much less hold him, only doing so the day Tyrion was born and was named, his face twisted in anger whenever Tyrion's name was so much as mentioned in his vicinity.
After a few weeks of this cold indifference, Tywin had come to see her only to pause and try to leave once he saw that Tyrion was in her arms, sleeping on her chest. Joanna had enough, screaming at her husband as he turned.
“Don’t you dare leave this room, Tywin!”
Tywin paused, knowing what was coming. “Joanna-”
“He is your son, Tywin!” Joanna yelled, “He is your son and yet you look at him as if he is a stranger, as if he is not of your blood. You run from him, treat him with nothing but shame.”
“How can I not?!” Tywin said, losing control of the anger he had been holding back from the moment he first looked at his son. “Our son is a deformed, a bloody dwarf, how can I not be ashamed of that?!”
“He is still ours, a lion of the rock. Your second son.” Joanna defended.
Tywin let out a cynical laugh, “Our son that the entire realm mocks, the one they call my doom, my bane. The child the Gods begotten onto me to teach me humility at last.”
Tywin was downright murderous when the words that Aerys had spoken when he learned of Tyrion had reached him, in front of the entire court of King’s Landing.
He had felt hatred for Aerys before, whenever he commented on and looked at Joanna, when he ignored Tywin’s advice and did the opposite, and when he would constantly say that he was the King and Tywin was his servant, but this was too far.
In all honesty, Tywin wanted to see his former friend dead, he knew that once he inevitably returned King’s Landing, he would want to kill Aerys, that any time spent in the Targaryen’s presence would be maddening. The only reason he had once again not tried to resign from his position as Hand was because it would make him look weak. It would be a declaration to the realm that Tywin was soft skinned and that the Lannisters could be walked over.
But now their family were the laughingstock of the continent, everyone from the North to Dorne spoke of Tywin and his cursed son, mocking them. It painfully reminded Tywin of his childhood, before he became friends with Aerys and Steffon, before the Rains of Castamere. Back when Tytos was alive and Lord of the Rock, the man letting everyone take advantage of him and openly mock him to his face.
Tytos was a weak-willed and pathetic ruler, and from the moment he knew better, Tywin swore to never be like him, that once he was Lord Paramount his family would prosper and be feared like it never did during Tytos’ rule.
But right now, Tywin felt more like his father than he ever had in his entire life and that just angered him further.
Joanna stared at husband pleadingly, “If we do not stand by Tyrion then no one will. His life will be hard enough without a family who cares about him, who loves him. He is a Lannister, he is your son, you cannot abandon him.”
Tywin looked between his wife and his son, Tyrion had woken up when his parents had started screaming, but did not cry like other infants would, instead staring at them with a gummy smile, oblivious to what was happening.
The man wordlessly walked over to the bed, he stood on Joanna’s right, peering over her shoulder to look at Tyrion. This was one of the rare moments where Joanna did not know just what thoughts were running through her husband’s mind.
“I just... I just want our family to be safe, to be respected.” Tywin admitted.
“I do as well.” Joanna replied.
“He almost killed you.” Tywin whispered, showing a vulnerability that only Joanna was worthy of knowing existed.
Joanna gave her husband a sympathetic look, “Tyrion is a babe; he did nothing of the sort, I am still alive, I still breathe. Nothing will take me away from you, from our family.”
Tywin let out a sigh, he then hesitated before lifting his hand up and pushed his fingers against Tyrion’s blond, almost white hair.
“I... I... I must apologize for acting so immaturely, Joanna. It is beneath me as a man of my status to be so thrown and avoidant.” Tywin declared, his gaze piercing Joanna’s.
The woman knew this was the best apology she was going to get from her husband, even what he had said had pushed the boundaries of Tywin’s usual capacity for empathy.
“Just promise me that this will not happen again, husband.” Joanna said resigned.
“It won’t.” Tywin spoke, “Tyrion is my child, just like Jaime and Cersei; and the world will always know him as such.”
That had been the end of the matter and slowly Tywin showed more care for the child. But he still grew tense whenever people spoke of Tyrion, but the Lord had made it clear to all in his household that any disrespect to his son would not be tolerated.
~X~
Cersei, on the other hand, avoided being anywhere near her baby brother, her joy usually dying whenever Tyrion was mentioned.
The young girl had not said anything about Tyrion in front of Tywin, Joanna, or Jaime, keeping her opinions to herself. But now her anger had reached its peak as she entered the nursery, threatening to consume her as she stood over her brother’s cradle.
Cersei was dressed in an ornate red dress with gold trimmings, her hair perfectly combed back. She was dressed in preparation for Princess Myria and her children's arrival.
The Princess had been on a tour with her two younger children looking for potential suitors for them both. Myria had heard of Joanna’s harrowing labor whilst in Oldtown and decided to quickly cut their stay short and leave for Casterly Rock, worried about the health of her old friend. The ships of the Dornish delegation had been spotted that morning off the coast of Tarbeck Hall, the former and ruined seat of House Tarbeck. Now the denizens of Casterly Rock were finishing the final preparations now that their guests were only a few hours away.
Part of Cersei was happy to meet the second friend that Joanna held so closely to her heart, that she spoke of just as often as she did with Rhaella, but the other half of her could only imagine what the Dornish party would say once they caught a glimpse of Tyrion.
More japes to be made at father, at us! Cersei thought indignantly.
Before she knew it, she found herself standing outside of the nursery, the source of her anger lying inside, oblivious to the rage his existence caused within her. She pushed the doors open and saw that only a single maid stood in the room, the young woman having just placed Tyrion down in his cot when she looked up and saw Cersei.
“My lady.” The maid replied, curtseying to the daughter of her Lord.
“Leave.” Cersei said plainly, her gaze never leaving the cot.
The maid did not immediately follow through with the order, unnerved by the fowl look that the young girl was sending towards her brother. “My lady, I do not think-”
“You don’t get paid to think, you are a dog that is paid to obey. And a member of House Lannister, the house that puts coin in your worthless hands is ordering to leave!” Cersei yelled as she glared at the maid.
“Apologies my lady.” The maid said, bowing to Cersei before moving as quickly as she could out of the nursery.
Cersei glared at the door for a moment before walking to the center of the room, standing over the cot and staring down at Tyrion, Cersei took in Tyrion, disgusted by his physical appearance.
Tyrion had stunted legs and stubby fingers, things that Cersei was sure would only become more pronounced as he aged. His forehead jutted out profusely, drawing attention not only to his mismatched green and black eyes but also to his strange looking hair. Tyrion's hair was thin, fair, and flaxen, the color was so blond it appeared white in certain lights, but this did nothing to hide the few strands of black that were beginning to emerge on his scalp.
Staring at him only made Cersei believe more that Tyrion did not belong, that he should not be here, should not be allowed to besmirch the Lannister name.
“You should not have lived, if you have any decency, you will die before you do too much damage to my father’s name.” Cersei said as she glared at her younger brother.
Tyrion was awake, but the newborn simply gurgled at Cersei, flashing his sister a toothless smile.
“You’re a disgusting little monster, you’re no true Lannister.” She hissed, “A worthless little creature-”
“Cersei Lannister!” Cersei quickly turned around and standing in the doorway was her mother. Unlike how she usually presented herself, Joanna glared at her daughter, a fire burning in her eyes as she stared Cersei down.
“Just what do you think you are saying to her brother?” Joanna asked as she closed the distance between them, standing over both Cersei and Tyrion.
Cersei flinched under her mother’s heavy and questioning gaze, “That... that he... he is a monster.”
“Your brother is no monster.” Joanna said, slowly kneeling in front of her daughter.
“But he almost killed you!” Cersei yelled, she could feel the tears trying to escape her eyes, raising her hand up to vigorously wipe them away before they could fall.
She could remember when Joanna suddenly went into labor, the looks on the faces of midwives and the maester as they left and reentered the room, the sounds of Joanna’s screams, the smell of blood that refused to leave her nose.
Joanna’s face softened as she cupped her daughter’s face within her hands. “Oh, sweetling. I am alive, I have here, you cannot blame your brother for what could have happened.”
“But you were fine before you gave birth to him, and you were stuck in bed for weeks after! How can you defend him?” Cersei asked, her voice trembling as she relived the fear she had felt.
“Because he is my son.” Joanna said fiercely, reminding Cersei of the mother lions she often heard stories about.
“He is not just my son, but your father’s son, and yours and Jaime’s brother.” Joanna said as she turned Cersei around to face Tyrion once more. “We are a pride, we are lions, and as a lioness it is your duty to defend your brothers, to protect them from all threats. Would you let someone hurt our family?”
“Of course not!” Cersei exclaimed.
“Then why are you trying to hurt Tyrion with your words and actions?” Joanna asked.
Cersei tried to respond but could not find the words to do so. It felt as if she was at war with herself; one side wanted to hate Tyrion for the pain he caused Joanna and the embarrassment he was bringing to the family, but the other side wanted to be a true lioness like her mother, to do her duty to their house.
Joanna stood up and placed her hands on Cersei’s shoulders, “House Lannister has remained strong and powerful because we are untied, because we look out for our own. Word has already spread of Tyrion’s birth, as I am sure you know, they wish to gossip, to mock him as a form of cruel entertainment. They want to ignore that he is a Lannister, that he stands above them all.”
The anger that Cersei felt returned, not directed at Tyrion but at all those mocking their family.
We are Lannisters, lions of the Rock, they should never have dared to mock our family! She thought.
Joanna then placed a hand under Cersei’s chin, making the girl look up at her. “Tyrion was born differently, that I cannot deny, but that is why he will need us more than ever. He will need us to protect him from all those who would wish him harm.”
Cersei realized what her mother was trying to tell her; to insult Tyrion was to insult the Lannister name, it was to not give their family the respect they deserved as Lords Paramount of the West and the family of the Hand of the King. Tyrion, regardless of his appearance was a Lannister, was her brother, those factors alone made him far better than everyone else in Westeros.
Cersei then hesitantly reached down into the cot and cupped the side of Tyrion’s face. Tyrion gave his sister another gummy smile, leaning into her touch. Instead of reacting in disgust as she would have before, Cersei smiled.
“You are a mighty lion of the Rock, Tyrion. I have said so, so it is true.” Cersei said softly.
Joanna let out a relieved breath and smiled at her children, while she was not sure if Cersei completely understood what she was trying to tell her, Joanna was glad that Cersei was at least leaving behind the hate that she had been carrying for Tyrion.
~X~
Myria rolled her eyes as they passed through The Lion's Mouth, the main entryway to Casterly Rock, not impressed by the show and pomp that was before them.
It was an enormous natural cavern two hundred feet high on the south face of the Rock. It was accessible through a great stone stairway with steps wide enough for twenty riders.
Casterly Rock had its own private and protected docks, wharves, and shipyards, so it annoyed the Princess that she and her party had to dock in Lannisport and then make their way by carriage to the Rock.
No doubt Tywin’s way of showing who is in charge, trying to act as if he is above me. Myria thought.
Myria and Tywin had always been cold towards each other, if not for their love for Joanna, neither would willingly spend time in the other’s presence. So, Myria held little doubt that they would once again clash with each other.
The Princess turned away from the window of her carriage and looked at her two children sitting across from her.
Directly in front of her sat her middle child and only daughter Elia. Her darling girl had always been frail having been born a moon premature, but this did not infringe on her beauty. Elia was slender, with black eyes, and a flat chest. At the age of ten and six, Elia was a gentle, good, gracious lady, and with a clever, sweet wit.
Next to the girl sat her younger brother, Oberyn, only a year younger than Elia, he had far surpassed her height. The young prince had the features of a salty Dornishman; He was tall, slender, graceful, and fit, with thin eyebrows, black eyes, a sharp nose, and his hair was lustrous and black.
She then looked to her right, staring at her husband and Prince Consort, Carn Allyrion, younger brother of Delonne Allyrion, the Lady of Godsgrace.
Carn was taller than she was, and unlike herself and their children, he had a larger and more powerful build, taking up more than half the bench they were sitting on, his hair short and curly instead of long and straight, no longer having its black color now being grey with strands of white mixed in.
“We are almost there, my dears. You remember what you must do?” Myria said, drawing her children’s attention to her.
Elia gave her mother a gentle smile, “Of course, mother.”
Oberyn sighed, “Yes, mother. This is not the first time we have visited a Lord’s house.”
“I know that, but Tywin Lannister is not like most men and lords you have met so far. So, we will not give him any opportunity question us.” Myria chided, “And when we get there say nothing about the babe.”
The siblings looked at each other before Elia spoke, “You mean Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna’s newborn son?”
“Yes, we are not gossipers, we will not lower ourselves to gawking like fools.”
“Of course, mother. We would not want to embarrass ourselves in front of Elia’s future husband.” Oberyn said, giving his sister a cheeky smile.
Elia stared at him before punching his shoulder, Oberyn pretended to be hurt, dramatically acting as if he were in danger of death.
“No betrothal has been made or discussed, Oberyn.” Carn said softly, not wanting assumptions to form.
“But is that not why we are here, father? To fulfill mother and Lady Joanna’s dream?” Oberyn asked.
Both children were aware of the friendship their mother had with Rhaella Targaryen and Joanna Lannister along with their shared dream of having their children marry each other so they could become a family.
While it was possible that Oberyn could be made to marry Cersei instead of Elia marrying Jaime, there was more to be gained by having their daughter become the wife of the future Warden of the West.
Besides, Cersei is the only daughter of the Lannister house, marrying a second son like me would be seen as a waste when she could be given a higher position. Oberyn thought, but was glad to not be the one possibly betrothed to a child of seven.
“While I would prefer a marriage between Elia and Joanna’s son, if a betrothal cannot be reached, we will find someone else.” Myria said before turning direct to her daughter, “We can look over the other suitors that we have met during the journey.”
Elia stared at her mother for a few moments, “Thank you, mother.”
The young girl was conflicted about the matter, she knew that she would one day have to marry, she had accepted this fate, unlike her younger brother who did everything he could to make himself unappealing to the various girls and women they had met.
While she accepted her fate, she was still scared, scared to be unloved or unaccepted by her future husband and his family, to be so far from her family and the only home she had ever known.
Elia knew during the progression that Myria’s goal was for her to marry Jaime Lannister and if that could not be accomplished then Oberyn marrying Cersei.
At least if Lord Lannister agrees to the match, then it will be a long engagement. Elia thought, remembering the nine-year age difference between herself and Jaime.
Before she could think more of it, the carriage she and her family were riding in came to a stop.
“Remember what we have discussed; nothing must be done to undermine ourselves in front of our hosts.” Myria said.
“Yes mother.” Elia and Oberyn said in unison.
Myria then looked towards her husband, staring at him blankly.
Carn let out a small laugh at the look, “Of course, my dear.”
The doors to the carriage were then opened and the four Dornish nobles climbed out, now standing in the courtyard of Casterly Rock.
Oberyn had to keep himself from snorting as he took in all the blond heads and green eyes in front of him, the arrogance that was coming off the group of Lannisters before him was palpable as they took in himself and his family.
“Princess Myria, I welcome you and your family to Casterly Rock.” Tywin’s voice bellowed through the yard as he gave the group a stiff nod of his head. The rest of the Lannister party gave their own silent greetings to the family.
“And I thank you for allowing us to stay in your home, my Lord.” Myria replied, a fake and far too sweet smile appearing on her lips as she curtseyed. Her children and husband followed her lead and bowing to Tywin.
“Come, let us enter the castle and break bread and salt.” Tywin said, leading the large group of both his family and Myria’s into the castle.
~X~
Tywin stood on his balcony watching as Elia and Oberyn interacted with his youngest brother, Gerion, his children, and Genna’s sons, Cleos and Lyonel.
He had tasked Gerion with talking the two Martells on a tour of Casterly Rock, believing that they would be more comfortable with someone their age. Joanna had then asked Jaime and Cersei to also go with them, leading to Cleos and Lyonel joining, making it an excursion for the children.
And right now, Gerion was showing them the gardens of the keep. Oberyn and Gerion were talking with each other, both had smiles on their faces, occasionally letting the two Freys into their conversation.
It did not escape his notice that Elia was conversing more with Jaime than everyone else, nor did Cersei's, as she glared at the back of Elia’s head as Jaime blushed when Elia smiled at him.
“Why are you so tense, husband?” Tywin did not turn around as he felt his wife appear behind him and rest her head on his shoulder.
“Are you aware of your friend’s plot?” Tywin asked.
“Plot?” Joanna asked, her tone remained the same, but Tywin knew that she was pretending to be oblivious.
“To marry her daughter to our son, Joanna.” Tywin said, turning around to face Joanna, his jaw clenched.
Joanna stared at him before sighing, “Yes, I am. It has been the desire between Myria, Rhaella, and I to have our children marry.”
“And you would let her take advantage of your kindness?” He asked.
Tywin never had the best opinion of Myria Martell, he could acknowledge her intelligence, cunning, and ability to lead, but he hated that she tried to act as if she were better than him. It boiled his blood whenever she would poke and prod at the culture of Westeros, trying to plant herself in male spaces, acting as if he were personally responsible.
“Myria is not taking advantage of me, Tywin. It would be a good proposal for Jaime and Elia to wed. There would be more trade between the Westerlands and Dorne, allowing us to weaken the hold that the Reach has over both of us as less fertile regions of Westeros. It would give us a strong alliance.” Joanna said, wanting to defend the desire of her and Myria.
“Elia is nine years older than Jaime. There will be less time for them to have heirs of their own as we would have to have for Jaime to be older.” Tywin argued, but he also kept to himself that even with the long engagement, Elia’s small and skinny body did not give him much hope that she would give Jaime many children.
Jaime was his heir, Tywin wanted to ensure that he gave his heir the best marriage possible, and that meant giving him a wife that would benefit him the most.
“There is no guarantee of that-” Joanna started before her husband cut her off.
“But there is no guarantee that it will not.”
“What other highborn ladies do you know of for Jaime to marry? The Arryns and Baratheons have no daughters in this current generation, and we both know that you would not accept a daughter of House Stark, and the daughters of Olenna Tyrell even less so.”
Tywin had to keep himself from showing the visible the disgust he felt at the thought of marrying his son to a Northern savage and the anger when thinking of how Olenna would undoubtedly try to put her hands in the matters of the West if one of her daughters were chosen.
“And Hoster Tully? I know that he has two daughters; one is older than the twins and the second is the same age as them.” Tywin questioned.
Joanna looked past her husband, over the balcony, seeing that the group of children were now gone. “One of them would be good for Jaime, likely the younger daughter. I have heard that Hoster is looking North for his eldest’s husband.”
“Brandon Stark?” Tywin asked aloud.
It would be a fine match for Hoster’s daughter as marrying Brandon would make her the Lady of Winterfell, raising her position as she was no longer heir to the Trident since the birth of her younger brother three years ago.
If he were in Hoster’s position, having two daughters married to future Lord Paramounts would be the goal he would strive for.
Tywin thought over whether he should write to Riverrun and start the makings of a proper engagement, Riverrun was far closer to the Westerlands and Hoster’s daughters were of the same age as Jaime, but the relationship between the Westerlands and the Riverlands was fine, trade and commerce were not inhibited in anyway, nothing would be gained by bringing the Tullys into the fold.
There was also a small part of him that raged against having another Riverlander as a relative, the image of Emmon Frey’s face appearing in his mind. Emmon was a small man, thin and nervous and mostly bald, his sullen face was not made any more attractive as it drew attention to the prominent apple in his throat.
Tywin still raged as he remembered his father agreeing to the match simply because he did not want to offend Walder Frey by rejecting it.
He remembered how Genna, his sister of only seven, wept and cried before him and Kevan when she learned the news. Tywin had stood up to Tytos, the man turning white as Tywin spoke against the match in front of half the nobility of the West during the feast to announce the betrothal, including Walder Frey himself, but in the end the match remained standing.
“Thank you, Tywin.” Genna told her oldest brother after the feast, standing closer to him as the pair were making their way to the rooms.
“For what, Genna. I failed; father has refused to see reason. He sees nothing wrong with having the second son of a lower house marry his only daughter, a daughter of the main branch of the House.” Tywin said, growling each word out.
Genna looked down at the floor, “I know, and I am still upset, but you stood up for me. Everyone else knew it was wrong, but you were the only one to stand up for me.”
To Genna even if she had to marry Emmon Frey, a small coward buffoon of a boy, the thought of Tywin caring enough about her to stand up to their father, their liege lord, meant everything to her.
Tywin looked at his sister from the corner of his eye, turning to face forward after a moment, saying nothing in response.
“I know what you are thinking, Tywin. All I ask is that you consider all options.” Joanna said, breaking Tywin from his memories.
“And if this leads to me rejecting your friend’s proposal when she inevitably brings it forward?” He asked.
“Be gentle.” Joanna said before hitting Tywin’s arm when she heard him snort, “I’m serious. Myria is my friend, a ruler of her own domain, same as you. So, I ask that you least treat her cordially if you decide that Elia will not marry Jaime.”
“Fine, but I will not sit back on my heels if she decides to act hysterically.” Tywin murmured.
His world was changing, filling with questions and uncertainties, and Tywin Lannister always hated being unaware of anything.
~X~
It was late in the night as Jaime quietly crept through the halls of Casterly Rock, making his way towards his sister’s bedroom.
Shortly before the Martell party had arrived, Joanna had Jaime moved back to his old room down the hall from Cersei, not wanting their guest to question why his room was so far away from his siblings.
In his hands was a letter he received from the castle maester that had arrived in the castle’s rookery from King’s Landing, knowing that it was from Aerea the second it was handed to him.
While it did not make up for not seeing each other in person, Jaime had greatly enjoyed the correspondence between himself and the princess. With the first few letters that he received, Jaime would notice Cersei trying to read them over his shoulder, pretending to not be interested, so after a while he began reading them aloud.
At first, he thought Cersei was only doing so to see if Aerea had written anything about Rhaegar, wanting to know everything about what her prince was up to.
He promised to tell her if Aerea had mentioned her brother, but Cersei would always make comments on things Aerea said she had done or how she felt, showing him that he cared more about the princess than she let on.
Jaime softly knocked on his sister’s door, restlessly moving in place as he waited for Cersei. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened.
“What are you doing here, Jaime?” Cersei murmured, rubbing her eye as she stared at her brother.
“Aerea sent me a new letter.” Jaime answered.
“And this could not wait until morning?” Cersei said as she rolled her eyes, but she still moved to the side to allow him entry.
“It is morning, sister.” Jaime said cheekily, his smile growing wider as Cersei glared at him.
Cersei tentatively sat down next to Jaime on the edge of the bed, this was the first time that they had been alone together in the other’s bedchamber since they were caught by that servant.
To Cersei, what they did in her bed was a sign of their closeness, a physical representation of the bond they shared as twins, as two people who shared one soul and she hated when their mother tried to separate them, to stand in the way of their love.
But what need do I have for Jaime’s love when I will have Rhaegar’s soon? She thought.
“What did she say?” Cersei asked as she watched Jaime open the letter.
“Prince Rhaegar has decided to begin his martial training.” Jaime said as he continued to read.
He was surprised to learn that Rhaegar had gone to the training yard and demanded to be taught by the Red Keep’s master of arms. He knew that the prince had never been interested in the art of war, knowing that the closest he had come to wielding a weapon was when he occasionally watched Aerea train.
“According to Aerea, he is showing promise, and the King has decided that he will squire for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower, after he has learned the basics.” Jaime added, thoroughly jealous of Rhaegar becoming the squire to the famous White Bull.
Cersei swooned at this, “Of course he has, Prince Rhaegar is stronger and more gallant than anyone else. It only makes sense for him to be a born knight and to be taught by the greatest knight around.”
She could already see Rhaegar, clad in armor, riding a strong and noble steed as he came to sweep her off her feet and take her back to King’s Landing as his Queen.
Jaime rolled his eyes but continued to read, hesitating before relaying what else Aerea wrote. “Aerea has also asked after mother and Tyrion.”
Cersei stilled, her dreamy smile and the blush on her cheeks disappeared as she digested the information. “She did?”
Jaime swallowed before he spoke, worried about what Cersei’s reaction would be, “She wanted to know if they are both healthy and that she would be helping the Queen pick a gift to celebrate Tyrion’s birth.”
Cersei looked at the letter in her brother’s hands, looking for any sign of mockery in the princess’ words, the Lannister family knew the opinion Aerys had about Tyrion, so she expected the rest of the court to think the same.
“Aerea would never insult Tyrion.” Jaime said, defending his friend’s character.
Cersei scoffed, “It would certainly make her a hypocrite if she of all people mocked our brother for being a freak.”
Jaime’s brows furrowed, “She would not mock Tyrion because she is a good person not because she does not want to be seen as a hypocrite.”
Cersei said nothing in response to this, “Was there anything else the princess wrote?”
Jaime saw the deflection and decided to go along with it, “Apparently, Grand Maester Pycelle was chased around the gardens by an over friendly bird.”
Cersei laughed as she listened to Jaime regale them of how Aerea spent ten minutes watching as Pycelle ran around the gardens in terror of a small bird.
