Chapter Text
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Half a year later, in a dark cellar somewhere in Flea Bottom, King’s Landing.
“Any progress?”
“Tywin will be dead in at most three months. But shouldn’t we worry about Tywin’s near-fatal counterattack?”
“No. If Tywin acts, King’s Landing will certainly fall into crisis. I don’t believe he would risk it.”
Inside the Red Keep, Cersei was giving medicine to Tywin.
Six months earlier, in June, Tywin had fallen ill quite suddenly. He could only manage matters of state while taking his medicine, but gradually he became unable to do even that. According to the maester, he had no more than three months to live.
After feeding Tywin his medicine, Cersei helped him lie down. “Father, I will help Tommen manage the affairs of the realm. Please rest well. I believe you will feel better soon.”
“I hope so.” Tywin’s voice was faint.
Cersei then left with the empty bowl, leaving Tywin to rest.
Once she was gone, Tywin opened his eyes and immediately ordered his servants to summon Jaime Lannister.
A moment later, Jaime entered his father’s chambers.
At that moment, Tywin looked like a candle flickering in the wind and rain. In only half a year, he seemed shockingly old.
“I have no more than three months, Jaime.” Tywin’s voice carried a heavy sigh. “Before I die, you must return to the Westerlands and inherit Casterly Rock.”
Jaime’s eyes grew slightly red. Tywin had always trained him as his heir, and among the three siblings, Jaime was the one with whom he had the fewest conflicts.
“You’ll be fine, Father.” Jaime’s voice trembled slightly.
“I know my condition. Tomorrow you will depart for the Westerlands and assume the title of Lord of Casterly Rock.” Tywin handed Jaime a handwritten letter. “This is for you. Go to the Westerlands and have the lords there swear fealty to you.”
“Also, be cautious of Theon Greyjoy in the Riverlands. Never conspire with him under any circumstances. He never keeps his promises unless you hold far greater power than he does.”
Tywin gave Jaime many instructions before sending for Kevan.
Kevan Lannister, Tywin’s younger brother, stepped forward to help him sit up.
“Brother, what do you require of me?”
“Tomorrow, after Jaime departs, you will lead your men to surround and destroy the High Sparrow. The Faith Militant must be eradicated completely. Cersei cannot control him!”
Tywin knew Cersei had always maintained a certain connection with the High Sparrow, and he even suspected the man had conspired with her to poison him. Yet he doubted Cersei had the courage, though she remained the most likely culprit.
Half a year earlier, Tywin had caught a chill and suffered from fever for several days. That illness marked the beginning of his decline.
“The High Sparrow will not be easy to remove. Since the Cult of the Seven faded from King’s Landing, the Poor Fellows have completely taken over Flea Bottom. Crushing him will inevitably stir unrest among the smallfolk.”
“We must surround and kill him. The High Sparrow is undeniably ambitious. Even if the poor revolt, we must put him.” Tywin’s voice rose with force, which set off a heavy cough.
Hearing Tywin’s words, Kevan understood: Tywin was determined to crush the High Sparrow.
But the Faith Militant was no longer just a band of ragged zealots. The High Sparrow was deeply loved by the people of Flea Bottom. Any strike against him would bring inevitable turmoil among the smallfolk.
Still, since Tywin commanded it, Kevan would have to find a way.
“Keep this quiet, and tell Cersei nothing. Secretly mobilize the elite Westerland troops out of King’s Landing, and destroy the High Sparrow in one decisive strike.”
“Do not worry, brother. The High Sparrow will not escape.”
…
In Pyke, Theon Greyjoy frowned as he stared at the envelope before him.
According to Varys’s secret report, Tywin was suspected of having been poisoned. Yet the medicine Tywin took daily was genuinely effective, a fact confirmed by Grand Maester Pycelle.
There was something else, the report suggested it was highly likely that Cersei and the High Sparrow had joined forces to poison Tywin.
But to be honest, Theon did not believe it. He suspected Cersei lacked the courage. After all, it was clear to everyone how deeply she valued Tywin’s power and presence, as did her brothers.
After tucking the letter away, Theon turned to Lucifor. “What news from Leviathan?”
“Your Grace, it is much the same. Cersei and the High Sparrow remain the prime suspects.”
Theon frowned deeper at that. It was completely unexpected. Cersei should have known exactly who was the true pillar of the Lannisters. Stranger still, there was no actual proof of poisoning.
It seemed more likely that Tywin had simply been confined to bed by serious illness. He was already in his fifties, a long life by the standards of Westeros.
Still, no matter the cause, once Tywin died, the Seven Kingdoms he had fought so hard to stabilize would almost certainly fall into chaos again.
And the most important matter was Tyrion.
Theon had once saved Tyrion’s life from Cersei. In her grief and rage over Joffrey’s death, Cersei would never allow the “culprit” to go unpunished.
Yet Tyrion was heavily guarded, making assassination nearly impossible. That left Cersei with only one path.
War.
Defeat Theon Greyjoy completely, and force him to surrender Tyrion.
With this thought, Theon took up his quill and wrote three letters: one to Petyr Baelish, one to Olenna Tyrell, and the last to Cersei.
The subject, of course, was the detailed conspiracy between Olenna and Baelish to carry out the poisoning. Although he did not expect the letter to immediately set Cersei and Olenna against one another, it would certainly widen the gulf between their factions.
For after Tywin’s death, Jaime would return to Casterly Rock to inherit the title of Lord. That meant Cersei would have the full support of the Westerlands, while Margaery would inevitably struggle against her for influence over Tommen. Behind Margaery stood the might of Highgarden.
After sealing the envelopes, Theon set them aside. The time was not yet right.
Next year, Cersei would surely push Tommen to attack the Riverlands, possibly even drawing Highgarden into the conflict, uniting the Westerlands, the Reach, King’s Landing, and the Stormlands against them.
Perhaps Baelish of the Vale would involve himself as well. If anyone in Westeros awaited Theon’s downfall most eagerly, it was surely Littlefinger.
At present, the Riverlands commanded a total of fifty thousand soldiers, all full-time and rigorously trained every other day. With complete armor, strict discipline, and exceptionally high morale, they were worth at least one hundred thousand common levies.
Furthermore, every major city in the Riverlands boasted cement walls and heavy steel gates operated by pulleys, making them nearly impervious to outside assault.
Still, if war came, Theon would never allow the fighting to spill across the Riverlands unchecked.
At that thought, he realized he needed to put his own house in order first. He could hardly wait for Euron to return and help cleanse it together.
“Summon the ministers,” Theon commanded. At once, he began to assemble them.
Soon, the nobles of Pyke, Great Wyk, Saltcliffe, and Old Wyk gathered.
As he looked over the assembly murmuring among themselves, Theon clapped his hands. At his signal, Lucifor brought forward a stack of documents and distributed them among the eighteen nobles present.
The records detailed the conspiracies of House Harlaw and several other islands. Some intelligence came from the Leviathan network, while the rest came from Varys’s little birds.
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