Conspiracy within
Garlan POV
Each note whispered like silver in the cool evening air. I watched as she silently glided her fingers across the strings, focused and lost in another world. Only a soft glow from the candlelight flickered over the polished harp. A gift from my mother, it was worn and torn but well cared for.
I had heard her play a hundred times, yet it was still as mesmerizing as the first time. High notes rang out first, light and crystalline, like snowflakes falling from the sky. They floated toward me, weightless, lingering in the air before melting away. I closed my eyes, immersing myself in her world, filled with snow and cold, which sent a shiver down my spine.
"I won't take long this time," I told her, finally grasping what she had been trying to convey. "A few weeks at most, just standard patrol."
"Again and again, over and over." Leonette paused her playing and looked at me. "You leave, I worry. I wonder until nightmares come. I only see your lifeless body coming back to me."
"When have I ever broken a promise to you?" I touched her shin, pulling her closer. "I will return, no matter what."
A knock at the door interrupted us. At the Red Keep, there was no privacy, but still, they could at least grant me some time alone. Every time something occurred, I was summoned. It didn't matter if it was a trivial issue or a world-shattering revelation. To them, it was the same—a problem to be dealt with.
A Lannister man. Not even a knight, but he still stood proud and tall like one. He delivered the summons from the Lord Hand and briskly walked back. This kind of posturing was so worthless that it made me sick. The man thought he was important now that one of the Lannisters had given him instructions on how to act around us. He didn't realize he was just a scapegoat, destined to be thrown on a sword at the first opportunity they got.
It was getting colder with each passing day. Summer was over, and winter was approaching. There were so many enemies and no allies—just deception and lies. This was a game with only one winner. I never intended to participate in this game, but I agreed with my family; we had to be on top for once. The Tyrells were done being pushed down because of their origins.
Holding the meeting at the Tower of the Hand was an insult not only to us but also to the king himself. If the boy were any older, he would have understood what it meant. The power resided here, not at the Iron Throne. The boy wasn't even present, only the Queen—I should say both queens. Tywin enjoyed flaunting his power too much, and his daughter didn't stray far from the tree.
Without the king, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard didn't show up either. In truth, they were more of a joke than anything else. After all, Jaime Lannister was already dead, and Tywin refused to assign the position to anyone else. The Grand Maester hadn't been appointed either, likely due to Tywin's efforts to prevent Gormon Tyrell from taking the role.
It was pathetic how desperately they clung to their power, even granting the position of the Law to someone like Orton Merryweather, a fool of a man who acted on the promises of the Lannisters. There were far too many like him in the Reach. But it didn't matter. People like them held no real power, just a position that could be taken away at any moment.
I suppose they had little choice. My father was the Master of Coin, my grandmother the Mistress of Whispers, and my grandfather the Master of Ships, and I commanded most of the men in the city, which also included the city watch. Everything was falling into our hands; we just needed a bit more time and an opportunity to finally get rid of them.
Loras did remarkably splendid work, indeed. As much as I despise using him in that way, we had no other option. He would have done it regardless, even if Varys was just a bit too much. But none of that mattered. The most problematic person wasn't him or Tywin. It was Lord Leyton Hightower. He was too sound of mind to be insane, yet he isolated himself too much from the rest of the world.
"Shall we begin?" my grandfather asked as I took a seat. "And since the King isn't here, we shouldn't waste much more of my time."
He didn't even look at me. Throughout all the time he had been in King's Landing, he hadn't had a meal with me or anyone else in the family. All he focused on was strengthening the fleet, not giving a damn about anyone else, even Tywin. That's why it was hard to approach him and take the next step in our scheme. We didn't know if we could trust him.
"I have received a most disturbing report," my grandmother began first. "Volantis has fallen."
"That makes the fourth city if we don't count New Ghis," Tywin said. "At least a third of Essos' trade routes are now under their control. It seems our hopes for them to be defeated by the slave masters are fading."
"Their influence has only grown stronger," Leyton said. "Now, they have a fleet that rivals anyone else's, unknown armies, and enough gold to fill Blackwater. They will strike us soon."
"What do you propose?" I asked.
"I had enough of waiting," He replied. "I demand that my proposal of taking the Iron Islands shall be approved. I will eradicate those vermin for once and all. When that Black King returns, he will find no place that belongs to him. We should have done it long ago. But no matter. Our fleet is prepared as it could ever be. It is time to strike."
"And leave the city waters defenseless?" Cersei asked. "I think not. We still have no notion of Lord Connington's intentions, and the Riverlands are still not in our hands. I see little reason to let you take command, given that the rest of the Reach has done nothing but fail so far."
"And order in the city…"
"What you're proposing is doing nothing," I said, interrupting Lord Orton, knowing he would only agree with Cersei. "Before it's too late, we should eliminate as many of our enemies as possible. With Theon Greyjoy, the rest of the Ironborn are just a rabble that will fall and drown."
"Without the support of his lands, Theon Greyjoy will struggle to establish a foothold in the Seven Kingdoms," Margaery added. "His reputation will diminish, and the fanatical following he's gathered will scatter."
"And what about Dorne?" Cersei asked. "We know Oberyn is in the same bed as Theon Greyjoy, not to mention the North. We should concentrate all our defenses in the city and let Stannis be the first to confront them, getting rid of those two pretenders."
Naïve. She was afraid. After losing her brother, she was constantly surrounded by various knights and soldiers. Sensitive to shadows, mad for power but with nothing to her name—only her son by her side. Without Tommen, she would be worth nothing. So, she would do everything to protect him and the city; outside of it, she was just a name in the wind.
"I might have sounded like I asked," Leyton said slowly. "But I don't need permission from a boy. Nor from his hysterical mother. Nor from his disgraced grandfather. My fleet is ready and leaving tomorrow. It's up to you to decide whether my victory will be in the name of the boy king or not."
Well, that just happened. Tywin didn't say a word before Leyton walked away. I looked at my grandmother, who only sighed, but I understood the weight of her gaze on me. Our only obstacle had left. Tywin had no allies. No men to spare. No gold. He had nothing left; even his reputation was tainted. It was the perfect opportunity to strike.
…
It was clear that Tywin's power was dwindling; no amount of posturing or pretending would save his image. In the coming days, as I prepared for the patrol and Leyton Hightower left with his fleet, I secretly got Leonette away from King's Landing. I forged a letter from her family so nobody would suspect anything, and then I began to move.
I couldn't afford to make any mistakes—no unnecessary risks. The strike had to be swift and brutal, leaving nothing behind. Once it's over, a new era will dawn upon us. With the combined forces of the Reach and the Westerlands, we shall crush Stannis, Jon Connigton, and whatever his scheme may be. And if we need to, the North won't be spared either.
The Lannisters have lost their usefulness. Still, it won't be easy to take over without a hitch. Preparations must be made, and they need to be done as quickly and secretly as possible. Using the pretext of preparing the patrol unit, I infiltrated enough men for the attack. Before our conspiracy is discovered, we should take care of all loose ends.
"Ser, more wine," The servant asked as she filled my cup.
All this made me incredibly tired. I already didn't like how I had to get rid of Jaime. It was despicable and went against everything I stood for. But it was necessary. They were our enemies, and they don't deserve my consideration. I just wished everything could be more straightforward. At least, all of this will soon end. When the war ends, I should start thinking about children.
"Tch." Grandmother wasn't happy with her meal. "This cheese is spoiled. I already despised the lack of quality, but this is getting out of hand."
"Mother, please," I smiled as my mother tried to appease the Queen of Thorns, but she should have realized long ago that no one has ever succeeded.
"I will ask for it to be changed." Father already knew what he should do. "Hey, we need a new plate."
"Did something happen in the kitchen?" Margaery asked as no one answered.
"Useless the lot of them," Olenna continued, but I was more concerned. "I will need to supervise them myself for them not to make such mistakes again. I swear they think they can relax once they are out of our sight, not doing their work."
The girl who filled my cup just left. She should have heard my father and responded quickly, even if others were busy with something else. Taking the sharpest knife from the table, I walked to the doors; two guards stood before me. Upon seeing my face, they drew their swords and opened the door. Before me stood men with bare feet and bloody knives, among the fallen servants and guards.
A bolt struck one of my guards in the eye, and he instantly fell. Before the other guard could move, I threw my knife at the closest man, hitting him in the neck, before reaching for the fallen guard's sword. I knew there were too many of them, and I knew I was too late to prepare for the battle, but my training kicked in, and I acted, even as I was pushed to the ground by five men, while another three quickly dealt with the last guard.
"What the meaning of his!" My father's voice echoed before it was silence by a bolt.
My sister screamed in fear as I struggled under my assailants. They were assassins, professional too. Wearing nothing that could make a noise. That is why my sword found no resistance as it ran through two men. Without armor, they weren't that heavy, so I pushed the other pair away before pulling out the sword.
It was already too late to block the passage, but in my rage, I continued cutting them down even as a few daggers found their place into my arms and legs. My mother tried to defend Margaery as she threw herself at the attackers, screaming for help. Margaery could only sob as I lost strength and was pinned to the table.
"Silence shouldn't be mistaken for servitude." Tywin entered the dining hall, his steps silencing my sister. "You have entered the lion's den. And yet you still refused to believe it had claws. Pretty flowers like you are always plucked out first."
"Don't touch her," I struggled as Tywin cup my sister's chin and lifted her.
"Quiet, Garlan," my grandmother said, still sitting on her seat. "I am too old for your preaching. We fucked up and now we paying the price. Just as your daughter fucked with her brother and he paid the price. You made me watch my children die, give me courtesy not to see my grandchildren dead. Do it quickly, even if it is painful."
"No!" Margaery was thrown to the floor, her eyes wide with shock.
"They will live, I give that, so you don't have to worry in the afterlife. I need assurance that the Reach will continue to follow my orders. And besides, she is my queen, after all." Tywin stabbed my grandmother. "If you want to keep your brother alive, you will listen to me, girl."
Tywin pressed his sword against my neck as I was pushed to the ground. I saw Margaery barely holding on as she glanced between our parents and our grandmother. Warm blood continued to flow from their wounds. She could only nod as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, powerless and at the mercy of the lion.