Visenya & Tywin's Chambers , Red Keep - King's Landing, CrownLands
After the talk with Sansa, Visenya walked with her a little bit and then chose to retreat for the day. She was quite mentally exhausted and felt this inner need to just try and sleep early. It would not be the first time but it was not often either.
Tywin was busy dealing with his duties as Hand and would not come anytime soon. This meant that the Dragoness would be alone in their chambers for a while or so she thought. She had just thrown her robe above her night dress and stepped from behind the changing screen only to find Varys in the room.
For a moment, she subconsciously tensed by his sudden and unexpected presence; as well as wondering how he came into the room considering the guards stationed outside. Her eyes quickly averted to the fireplace behind him, being unlighted and seeing the faint traces of a secret passage.
Of course, he would know of that passage, she thought ironically and focused back on the eunuch.
"Lord Varys. I did not expect your visit," she said casually, not truly bothered by her thin or informal clothing on her.
She was never shy around any man about how she dressed and would never be. She would fight naked if she was left with no choice and she would not even hesitate. Plus, the eunuch was not truly a man to look for carnal desires or have such thoughts in his mind; at least from what she had come to understand.
"My Lady," he greeted back, his hands hidden within his sleeves. "I apologize for the late visit. However, I did find it the best time," he said and she knew what he was talking about.
Because Tywin is not around me and no one will spy on us in here, she concluded and nodded her head.
"I do believe it is about the favour, isn't it?" she questioned him, although she suspected the answer already.
He nodded to show his agreement and she let out a sigh. She was not in the mood to deal with this now but she could not refuse him, this was not how the game was played. She walked towards the desk that existed in the chambers, smaller and emptier than the one in the Hand's study.
She leaned at the edge of it, hands holding the edges for some extra support while her eyes were locked on the form of the Master of Whisperers, waiting for him to say his price for his service.
"You do not have to be alarmed, my lady. I merely wish for information as a return for finding out where Vargo Hoat was," he said, noticing her silent gaze and the faint stiffness of her body.
"What information you wish to know then?" she asked, fixing her robe around her shoulders since it had a tendency to slip downwards due to the silk material it was made of.
"About your Dragon Dreams," he said, managing to ruin her calm facade and almost her composure.
Her lips parted faintly and there was the faintest change in her eyes, shock visible in those amber irises of hers. "What Dragon Dreams?" she asked, trying to ensure that she would not fall into any of his traps and betray herself.
Varys took a few steps towards her but kept a respectful distance.
"There is no need to worry, my lady. I am well aware of your family's prophetic abilities passed to you after Daeny the Dreamer."
Visenya took a deep breath and then exhaled, realizing he indeed knew more than she ever suspected. She was not sure how much he knew but she had to find out. If he was aware of her dreams, this could be dangerous.
She doubted he could use that information since many would not believe such ability to exist, already not truly believing in magic and occultism. Yet, the fact that he knew did make her feel uneasy since the only person, alive, that knew was Tywin.
"Very well. What do you wish to know?" she asked in all professional matters, not once taking her eyes off him; a sign of mistrust and awareness.
He did not seem to be affected by her sharp gaze nor was worried she would call her guards on him. No, she was simply too honourable on that matter and was not going to act that petty. It was what truly made her stand out from Tywin and the rest of the court members; it was truly what would have made her a great Queen if she ever had the chance to rule.
"I would like to know of what you have dreamt so far, my lady. Every dream that has yet to become a reality and how those dreams work," he explained, making her tighten her grip on the study, knuckles turning a faint white from the increased force.
She knew she could not deny it or go back on the promise, for it was a deal and a Lannister always pays her debts, as the motto of her latest house was. Thus, she talked to him and summarized her dreams.
She told him of the three dragons growing bigger and flying over Westeros, of the scene where Tyrion is in her chambers and holds a crossbow that is aimed for Tywin... and of the winter dream. She spared some details but spoke of the threat coming by the Wall, the skeleton army with blue eyes and the dragon that breathed blue fire.
She proceeded to explain to him that dreams were set in stone and could not change. However, sometimes small changes or details could be inconclusive or incomplete in her dreams; hence how Daeny the Dreamer managed to save her family but not the whole of Valyria from the Doom.
And of course, she explained how sometimes certain actions of people aware of those dreams were the ones triggering it.
"...no matter what, Lord Varys; one way or another they will happen. Whether they will be in a few moon rotations or years ahead, that is unknown," she finished explaining, having moved to walk around the study but remain standing.
Something about moving while explaining helped make it easier for her because it was not easy to discuss such things; things that not even Tywin knew and she was not even sure if she would tell him.
Varys was a very good listener, not interrupting and simply nodding his head faintly a few times while she spoke. There was this small expression across his face when she brought up the threat beyond the Wall but nothing too big to give away if he knew anything about it or was truly affected by the news.
In the end, he seemed pleased and had taken all the information he needed. Visenya, at that moment, truly wished she could see his thoughts or know what he would do with such information; considering his shifting loyalty and nature.
He gave a deep bow to her. "Thank you for your cooperation, my lady," he said and pulled his body up. He then gave her his usual smile, one that was always as fake as the one of Baelish; especially if one truly knew of what he was capable of. "I look forward to working together once again," he said and headed for the secret passage by the fireplace.
It was a rather small and narrow passage, one she knew and apparently he did too; although she had almost forgotten about it. A grown man would have to bend and crawl maybe to be able to navigate through and it was mostly used as a last-minute exit in case of an emergency.
She did not remember if Tywin ever found out but yet again, he was never worried one would try to use it. Very few knew it and no one was stupid enough to try and break into the chambers of the Hand and try to harm the mighty Tywin; as many called him.
Visenya, though, did think of finding a way to seal it; especially now that she knew Varys knew of it as well. However, she had bigger things to worry about like what the hell would the eunuch do with such information.
She felt a sharp pain in her head and she placed her hands on the desk, hovering above it. She bent her head forward and closed her eyes, leaving a rather heavy and audible sigh. Things were becoming too complicated too fast, even for her.
So many new players were joining the game, so many moves were being done simultaneously and she had to try and keep track of all of them. No, not try... she had to do it and not miss one or she risked losing.
I am getting too old for this, she thought as a part of her yearned for the rather peaceful time she had while in Casterly Rock.
She did miss the easiness of life, where her responsibilities and their worries were far less. Even while Robert ruled, she had the chance to get a break from everything. When she was younger, she enjoyed ruling from the shadows and knowing it was her plans that made things work and life prosper.
However, back then things were less complicated and fewer people were in the game. Back then, it was easier to keep track of things since the Kingdom was whole, there was no rebellion or multiple sides; no big wars... nothing at all.
She was younger there, she had her family by her side and she had not passed through all that shit she had now. Perhaps that was what had changed her, what had made her crueller, colder even.
She remembered what Tyrion had told her, how he accused her due to the Red Wedding and she truly felt it. Remembering her past self, she was something completely different now and she was starting to worry if this was for the best or the worst.
Visenya tried not to think about it but she could not and she started to actually feel hot. As if the temperature had risen significantly and suddenly in the room, she felt her skin burning which was odd because she never truly did.
The sound of the door opening and closing made her dig her way out from the endless black hole filled with thoughts and memories, and instead open her eyes and focus on the person ahead of her.
Tywin had just returned and had taken notice of her tired and troubled form, hovering above his desk while her skin seemed to have a faint reddish hue at the base of her neck and on her cheeks.
She immediately pulled her body up and controlled herself, feeling the sudden hot flash of her body disappearing. She saw his arched eyebrow and his questioning look, already knowing what he wanted to ask before he could utter it.
"I am fine," she lied, offering a tired smile. "It has been a tiring day that is all," she continued, lying with ease.
If Tywin did believe her words or if he did not, she could not say. Sometimes, it was hard even for her to truly read him or know exactly what he had been thinking. She had not mastered that yet and a part of her wondered if she ever would.
He stood in the middle of the room in silence and motioned with one finger for her to approach him. She hesitated but did not let it show and instead obeyed him, seeing him pleased that she did not try to fight him.
His hand moved and he pressed the back of his fingers against her cheek, sensing her temperature. While Visenya was warmer than him and most people, there were times she was unusually warm.
The past half a year if not full, her body seemed to have increased its temperature. What had happened during the Small Council meeting was still in his mind. How her skin felt almost burning, how his fingers had reddened as if they had been close to a fire source but nothing seemed to be odd.
"You have not been yourself lately," he pointed out, withdrawing his fingers while he inspected her with his eyes.
She did not try to deny it. "Just hot flashes here and there but they pass," she confessed, trying to hide the fact that she had also started to notice.
How often she felt far warmer than she was, how at night she would leave most of her body above the covers to feel the nice breeze coming from the window. How her bath waters needed to be hotter and hotter each time, worrying her maids but none were brave enough to truly speak.
He tilted his head faintly to the side. "Could this have to do with those pestering dreams of yours? Or something else?" he asked, unsure how to properly phrase his thoughts.
Visenya was... unique and he knew it. Her heritage and her gift was something even she did not truly have a lot of information on.
Targaryens were an odd family of their own with a lot of curses or magic said to be involved.
Some have talked of babies being born with scales or wings, others speaking of hereditary madness that was sent by the Gods due to their incest. Most, in his eyes, were folklore and empty words but a small part of his mind was always sceptical.
After all, his wife could see the future and he had heard of them becoming reality; specifically the dream of Queen Rhaella dying after childbirth. He had not been there but the news had reached them, reminding them of that dream she had when they were at Casterly Rock.
She shook her head. "I don't know. Perhaps I am just tired and my body is trying to tell me that," she confessed, truly not knowing what those causes were.
"Hmm," he exclaimed. "Then from tomorrow and until the wedding you will take it easy and get some proper rest," he said, his tone making it clear that this was not a topic he would discuss or bargain about it.
She scoffed in amusement, a small smile forming on her lips. "If my lord husband commands me, who am I to refuse?" she asked rhetorically.
He rolled his eyes but she could see the corner of his lips shifting upwards in similar amusement. "Your humour is still intact, that is a good sign," he commented, earning a small chuckle from her.
302 AC - Gardens of the Red Keep, Red Keep - King's Landing, Crownlands - Seat of Power: Joffrey I Baratheon/Lannister
The change of the year had come rather quickly and the wedding was only a few days away. However, before the wedding would take place; another important event would. King Joffrey had requested a banquet for his name day, where many lords would present him with gifts as it was the custom.
No one argued with him and rather soon after he ordered it, the event took place. A long table had been placed right beneath an arch as the gardens were still green all around them and flowers remained bloomed.
Smaller tables had been placed for the other guests, music was played and the mood was festive. The royal family had been placed on the main long table as food and drinks were served.
At the very left of the table was Sansa and next to her was Tyrion. Following that line, next to the dwarf was Joffrey, followed by Trystan, Tywin, Visenya, Cersei, Tommen and last was Pycelle; who had been granted a seat as the Grand Maester; much to the couple's dismay.
They all ate and watched as one by one Lords brought their gifts to Joffrey and said their blessings for the upcoming wedding; whether those words were true or just fake formalities.
"From House Tyrell and the people of the Reach, Your Grace, it is my honour to present you with this wedding cup." Lord Mace said and placed the huge golden and jewelled item on the table, right in front of Joffrey. "May you and my daughter Margaery drink deep and live long."
"A handsome goblet, my lord. Or shall I call you Father?" Joffrey said with all the manners he could have, surprising those who knew him.
If one did not know him, they might consider him a good person but everyone on that table knew better.
"I shall be honoured, Your Grace." Lord Mace said and bowed, before walking back to his table where the rest of his family was seated.
At the same time, Shae carried a tray to the table and set it before Sansa. She barely glanced at Tyrion but she could feel a pair of green eyes on her.
Cersei, who had been told by one of her maid spies about her; already knew who the woman was. Wishing to just make the life of his brother miserable, she leaned forward and a little to the side; trying to get to talk to her father but her good-mother was forward.
Either way, she chose to tell both of them because from the looks of it; Tyrion had fallen off her grace as the rest of the children. Except for the Golden Boy Trystan of course, who Cersei doubted would ever fall into the eyes of his mother.
"She's the whore I told you about. The dark-haired one," she said, making the couple look.
Visenya did not say anything, trying to play it ignorant and was rather successful. Trystan was aware all along and heard the low whisper coming from his half-sister but only exchanged a look of worry with Tyrion; who both knew that now that their father found out; it would be a disaster.
"Hmm," Tywin exclaimed, watching her go. "Worry not, she will be dealt with accordingly," he commented, earning a quick look from his lady wife but she said nothing.
If she were to discuss this topic with him and somehow save the life of Shae, she would have to do it in private. Now, it was not the right time and she knew it.
Podrick eventually approached them with a large tome that was left before Joffrey as Tyrion got up and walked to the front of the table as well, to present his own gift.
"A book?" the boy-king questioned, disappointment visible on his face.
"The Lives Of Four Kings. Grand Maester Kaeth's history Of the reigns Of Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor the Blessed, Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good. A book every king should read." Tyrion explained.
There was this awkward silence since Joffrey was at a loss of words. Visenya was amused by it and gave a small nod to Tyrion, who had once again proven that at least one of Tywin's children still found time to read and he chose the perfect time to show it.
Of course, the teenager who had been spoilt by his mother did not know what to say. However, he felt the sharp gaze Of Tywin, who passively and silently entreated him to respond.
"Now that the war is won, we should all find time for wisdom," he said in a sweet tone. "Thank you, Uncle."
Tyrion narrowed his eyes faintly, questioning if someone had abducted his nephew and replaced him with a fake; since not once in his life did he expect Joffrey to thank him. Even Sansa seemed to be shocked and stole glances at Joffrey as if he had grown a second head.
Trystan and Visenya exchanged a passive look, surprised as well but they quickly realized that Tywin had his hand on it and most likely had another "conversation" with Joffrey or since the event of the small council; Joffrey had been terrified and chose to change.
The dwarf bowed nonetheless and walked back to his seat as the Mountain, dressed in the colours of a King's Guard brought forth a sword and laid it on the table before the King.
Tywin stood up, indicating that this was a gift from him. "One of only three Valyrian steel swords in the capital, Your Grace," he informed. "This has been freshly forged in your honour," he explained.
The green eyes of Joffrey seemed to glow with excitement and he wasted no time to stand up and walk around the table. At the same time, Tywin sat down while his wife eyed the sword from where she was sitting.
Tywin had told her where he got that much Valyrian steel and that he had summoned her blacksmith, the very same one that had made her daggers, to create the two swords.
Exuberantly, Joffrey unsheathed the sword and observed it. The pommel was golden laced and had a ruby right at the armguard, while the blade was shorter and thinner; more fitting for a boy his age that lacked the proper strength for a longer sword.
"Careful, Your Grace. Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel," Pycelle warned, watching him as he tested it against thin air.
"So they say." He said and turned to Visenya. "What do you think, Grandmother? Do you think my blade is sharper and better than your old one?" he asked, clearly looking forward to agitating her.
Visenya took a deep breath, clearly not happy seeing him holding such a weapon; let alone hearing him insult her family's sword. However, she remembered her manners and her role. "Valyrian steel does not blunt, your Grace," she explained. "It remains as sharp as the day it was freshly forged."
This seemed to intrigue him even more and he searched the table for a target practice. His eyes went to the book that Tyrion had given him and he wasted no time to start cleaving it. The sword cut through the heavy thick book like it was nothing, each attack causing the table to shake and paper pieces to fly everywhere.
Tywin, who had been the closest, had to move himself further back against the chair to avoid any injuries from the attacks since the boy king did not know how to wield it or the extent of its length.
This action seemed to make people gasp either by the sharpness of it or the actions of their king, who had the same sadistic look upon his face as always; long gone the mannered boy they had seen up to now.
He panted faintly but one could see the sadistic joy he felt. Visenya exchanged a silent look with Tywin.
You had to give him that sword, her look said.
I do not regret it, he stubbornly said back with his look although he started to think he would soon.
Joffrey then turned to the people. "Such a great sword should have a name. What shall I call her?"
A few suggestions could be heard coming from all kinds of corners across the garden.
"Stormbringer.""Terminus.""Widow's Wail.""Wolfsbane."
The boy-king turned towards one direction, a smirk on his face.
"Widow's Wail. I like that," he said and sheathed the sword. "Every time I use it, it'll be like cutting off Ned Stark's head all over again."
His words made Sansa look dejected and he earned a sharp glare from Tyrion, Trystan and Visenya while even Cersei seemed to give up on the boy's obsession with tormenting the Stark girl.
Tywin was disappointed and merely watched him as he walked back to his seat to allow the rest of the Lords to grace him with their gifts.