Chapter 3: Tywin III, Stannis III (283 AC)
Tywin III
He found Robert in the training yard, sweating in a weighted hauberk and battering at a heavy wooden mannequin with a hammer that must have weighed twice as much as the King's usual weapon. A page wearing a Baratheon tabard was calling out the hit and where they struck.
There were a score of other knights training but even if Robert's height hadn't identified him, the presence of Jorah Mormont would have been evidence. The first of Robert's Royal Guards wore a white tabard with a crowned stag upon in. Rather than the plate of a knight he wore northern mail, but there was a heavy shield strapped to one arm, broad enough that he could use it to cover the King if need be.
Normally Tywin would have said there were more productive uses of his time than waiting for the king and as Hand that might be true. However, Jon Arryn would return in a few months and then Tywin would be leaving King's Landing behind him. With surprisingly few regrets: he had what he wanted from the place and there was no one, not even Kevan, who could teach Jaime what he needed to know for when he was Lord. And once he was gone, knowing the King's mind would be vital.
Robert removed his helm once he was done with the mannequin and accepted a water bucket from the page, pouring the contents over his head. He raked thick black hair back from his face before turning on some subtle signal - from Mormont, the man is no fool - and seeing Tywin.
A few moments later, hauberk loosened but not removed and Robert stands beside his Hand on the terrace overlooking the yard, drying his face with a towel. Another thing that Tywin hadn't expected: the Stormlander was fastiduous about staying clean. It was said he bathed every night - another welcome change. Aerys had given up bathing after a fit of paranoia that a servant had been planning to drown him in the tub.
"News from the south?" he asked.
Twyin nodded. "Much as expected. Reading between the lines, the Martells want blood for the death of their sister."
"And Ned?"
"No news of Lord Stark." Which left the King's marriage plans inconveniently undefined.
"Hmm." Robert looked away for a moment. "Tell me, Lord Tywin, if questioned would Amory Lorch or Gregor Clegane reveal that they acted on your orders."
"Neither man is known for their wit. Nor Clegane for his self-control."
"I'm given to understand that Lorch stabbed Rhaenys. Repeatedly, it appears."
"Yes. Clegane killed the young prince and his mother."
Robert scratched his chin. "And raped her too, it is rumoured. A very blunt instrument. Although I imagine you can find the like again."
"You intend to give the Dornish what they want?" The idea galled Tywin - he'd cleared the way for Robert to take the throne and now more was being demanded of him.
"What exactly did they ask for?"
"Justice."
"Hmm." The king lowered his voice. "If I ground all of Westeros to a fine powder, how many grains of justice do you think might be found. Justice is a dream men have. But such dreams have their place, my lord Hand, for the same could be said of chivalry, of lordship. Even of kings. So if they want justice, they will have it. "
"Or the illusion of it." Tywin's own voice is no louder.
"Lorch's testimony should be sufficient to condemn Clegane for the deed. Complicity is a lesser crime, Lorch we can send to the Wall to cool his blood."
"And if Ser Gregor calls for a trial by combat?"
"That is why Lord Bolton has provided the City Watch with crossbows." Robert's lips curled up with distaste. "If we could count on him to keep his mouth shut I might be able to send him north but things are as they are."
"They are," agreed Tywin and raised his voice back to normal levels - those that might be overheard by the nearest knights. "I must advise you that once Prince Jon returns from Dorne, as seems likely, that I will need to return to Casterly Rock. My son's education in matters of rule has been sadly neglected while he was in King's Landing."
"Indeed, we must all give thoughts to the future. Your help is invaluable, Lord Tywin. And I am sure that with you and Ser Jaime that the Westerlands will remain as secure as the North or the Eyrie." The king winked slightly and then, in a low tone added: "One cannot promote a son above his father, but Ser Jaime has a princely bearing so he must have learned some lessons well."
Mentally Tywin noted that it was a point in Robert's favour that he took that debt seriously.
Stannis III
The first thing Renly said to Robert was that King's Landing smelt like a cesspit. Their brother blinked, laughed and told Renly he'd noticed the same thing before going on to congratulate Stannis for things that were merely his duty. As if he hadn't expected as much from him.
The throne room was large and echoing with no Iron Throne on the dais. The dragonbones had also been removed, Stannis knew not where to. Banners had been hung from the walls, the Baratheon stag behind the dais but along the walls marched wolves, falcons, trout, squid, lions and even roses now.
The celebrations were loud and tedious and Stannis was impatient for the whole mess to be over so he could go back to Storm's End with Renly. The boy was enchanted with the thought of a new wardrobe but there was a great deal still to do.
"What do you mean we're not going back to Storm's End!?"
Robert should have exploded back at him but the king didn't. It gave Stannis a creeping feeling, looking at his brother. The war had changed him too, but not so much.
"You're hardly barred from Storm's End, Stannis. It's our home. But we both have responsibilities and I'm not so careless as to send Renly away alone."
He'd hardly be alone but Robert had a point there. "He'll hate it here, you know what it smells like."
"A pit of scum and villany. The scent is more honest than the view." Robert drained his cup and refilled it, pushing the flagon over to Stannis without being asked. "At least you'll get away from time to time. I have to live here."
"My new lands, you mean."
"Those too. You're my heir. You're also one of the few men I know who are both competent and loyal."
"Another duty, then?"
"It's the reward for a job well done. Lyonel Corbray isn't working out as Master of Ships but I can't dismiss him just yet. Officially you're going to be his understudy, I want all the councillors to have one or two. Unofficially, you'll be taking charge of the fleet for Dragonstone."
"The Targaryens?"
"Managing a fleet isn't the same as handling an army." Robert belched, looked startled and then chuckled. "It takes attention to detail and a great deal of rigor. Besides, you have that smuggler you knighted, what's his name?"
"Davos Seaworth." Somehow he didn't think Robert had really forgotten.
"Him, yes. A useful man. Once we have Dragonstone I'd like you to understudy Lord Egremont. You have an eye for justice, he can teach you a lot."
"Do you want me to be Master of Ships or Master of Laws?"
"Whichever the situation calls for." He put his goblet down with a thump. "If I slip on the stairs tomorrow, you'll be king. I'm probably going to be bloody awful at the job, but at least I can get you trained up to be better if it comes to that. And if it doesn't there'll be an able lord on the marchlands between the Stormlands and the Reach."
Stannis nods sharply. "And Renly?"
"He's young yet."
"Not too young to plan."
"Very well. Summerhall. And possibly a marriage to the Martells if things look well for it in ten years or so."
"Do you have me wed off too?" spat Stannis, uncertain if he was more angry because Robert seemed less angry.
"What do you want of me, Stannis!" burst out Robert. He leant forwards. "It's not bloody easy being King."
"Why not crawl back into an ale barrel with some whores then?"
"Tried that, it didn't work." The offhand reply stunned Stannis long enough for Robert to add: "Or are you mad that you're not the only responsible one anymore?"
For a long moment the brothers stared at each other, teeth grinding. Stannis pushed his chair back. "Excuse me, your grace."
"You are excused." Robert waited until Stannis had almost reached the door before adding. "And Stannis... not one man in ten thousand could have stood siege at Storm's End."
The door slammed behind Stannis and he leant against the opposite wall, pressing his face against the wall. Years ago Robert had left Storm's End and never once looked back at his brothers. I should take Renly now and see how he likes it, he thought, knowing he would not.
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