POV: Lord of the Rock;
Lord's Solarium, Casterly Rock.
Seconds after the first actual slash was swung...
"I don't deny that either. Prince Doran has offered me and all my retinue warm hospitality." The eleven-year-old gaze became colder and more calculating. Though the tone of his voice remained as cordial as before.
The boy seemed not to waver...
"More than just 'warm hospitality,' from its sounds. House Martell has called for the largest banquet the royal palace has seen in decades. So... the question I can't help but ask, and for which I would appreciate an answer, is... Why?"
The answer to this question could have determined the outcome of relations between The West and The North.
Tywin was no slouch. He knew that this individual in front of him, incredible as he was, could pull the strings of the entire North moving it even against the wishes of House Stark...
The boy looked away and allowed himself another sip from the cup before saying:
"A question to which I could give a thousand different answers, one more convincing than the other... However, though I'm afraid I have to disagree with many of your ways, know that I have the utmost respect for Tywin of House Lannister.
So you deserve a response worthy of the value that name represents...
But first, I would like to receive equal consideration from you, if that is not too much to ask." The True Ruler of the North replied.
Tywin's gaze grew angry. He had not appreciated this interlude, but he maintained the solid firmness in his bearing by not conceding any more telltale signs to his counterpart.
"What you ask can only be granted to those whose loyalty I believe to be of the utmost value. Something I have never bestowed upon anyone thus far. I wouldn't count too much on that, boy." Tywin replied.
"And I wouldn't count too much on you deserving that answer, my Lord." The Lion seemed not to fully understand the sentence. It seemed a contradiction to what had been said earlier.
"I will elaborate. The person to whom I would answer truthfully is Lord Tywin Lannister. Or, to be more precise, I would respond to the man who once bore that name...
A man who single-handedly raised an ancient and noble House from inevitable collapse at a young age. The man who overturned his family's good name in a few short years, bringing order and prosperity back to the West.
The Hand of the King raised seven kingdoms from the brink of ruin, promoting laws, making trade agreements, and paying off risky debts with forces that the Crown underestimated.
The man who, through arranged marriages, attempted to reconnect with all the Great Houses of Westeros and achieve the most significant period of peace and prosperity these lands have ever seen.
Yes, I would answer with complete sincerity to that man, leaving nothing out.
I would answer to the true former Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. And not to a man attached to old wounds and personal grudges, abandoning to fate anyone who does not bear the Lannister name." The slash came and left its mark.
A few times in his life, Tywin was struck on the personal side. Most who succeeded had not survived the affront. But only one person before managed to wound him so smoothly and cleanly... the one who knew Old Lion better than anyone, Johanna Lannister.
Tywin stood still and silent. A few moments of weakness prevented him from thinking clearly, thus delaying the best response to that affront.
"I would pay close attention to your next words, Lord Duncan..." And Tywin had to pay attention to his own. It wasn't until he uttered the word 'Lord' that he realized the slight misstep he had made.
The cold, calculating, cunning, and emotionally controlled man faltered for a few moments, regaining control soon after.
"It was not my intention to offend you, Lord Tywin. But if you are unable to hear true answers and not cheap phoney swill they peddle as truth in King's Landing, then do not ask." The Lion took the blow with dignity, not answering awkwardly as before.
The man took a moment, which his opponent granted him, to consider the most appropriate counter-offensive.
"Since expectation has yet to be earned by both of you, what answer would you give to the type of man you do not trust?" Tywin tested the waters.
"That it is my wish that the lands of the North, the West, and Dorne forge good relations. That House Stark, House Lannister, and House Martell work together to achieve good trade and, if need be, military alliances." Bloody Snow replied.
"A lean and fanciful answer. We both know that House Martell hides and protects the rightful heirs to the Iron Throne. This alliance will be impossible until Dorne hands over Rhaegar's sons." Old Lion.
"Why?" Bloody Snow.
"Why? I just explained why," Lion asked with slight irritation.
"What I mean is: why do you want Dorne as an enemy instead of an ally? For a piece of symbolic hardware? For a crown and some minor nobleman falsely decrying the words, 'majesty' or 'your grace'? For control over King's Landing? Personally, I see no real reason to risk so much blood and gold..."
Tywin was about to get caught up in the impulse to respond in kind to that arrogant brat who had yet to learn the basics of history and the rules of power, but he stopped himself a moment later.
Instinct told him that many potential objective reasoning lay behind those questions.
He remained silent and signalled his counterpart with a nod to continue and elaborate on the arguments.
"If it were about power and leaving a mark on history, I would understand it while not agreeing with the medium. But what is there really to gain by sitting on the Iron Throne? Prestige? Gold? Power over the masses? And at what price? Personally, I would never sit on that trouble-making monstrosity. Nor would I wish my loved ones to be burdened with such weight." The boy paused to think while staring at the golden cup.
"A personal point of view... Points of view do not change the rules that govern the world, 'Hero of the North'.
Do not so superficially scorn the symbol of power that has brought dynasties and legacies more remarkable and older than you imagine to their knees." Tywin replied with disappointment, unsure why he was wasting time responding to such philosophical discussions.
"Really? So it was that piece of iron forged by a thousand enemy swords forced King Loren Lannister or King Torrhen Stark to bend the knee?" the boy asked.
"No... the power of the Dragons." Tywin replied.
"That's where the question comes from: why make Dorne an enemy?" the Warden of the West got to the key point.
"Everyone makes mistakes, even the best minds ever to appear on this world. And fifteen years ago, you made one, or rather two...
Since the last Dragon died two hundred years ago, Dorne has become the strongest Kingdom in Westeros. Nothing bent or broke the Nymeros Martell dynasty. And no kingdom would ever again follow any other Targaryen king's crazy idea of conquest.
You had the most excellent opportunity to make House Lannister the most powerful kingdom of all six combined. Still, you let your emotions and resentment carry you away for what you thought was rightfully yours...
Your wife Johanna understood this before you did, and she went to great lengths to forge good relations with the Princess of Dorne, the mother of Oberyn and Elia...
Yet you fixated on demanding that Aerys II, one of the worst kings the Dragon Dynasty has ever seen, grant Prince Rhaegar's hand in marriage to your daughter. Had you clutched even one of the two marriage proposals offered by the previous Ruler of Dorne, the successor to the Iron Throne himself would have come begging you to make an arranged marriage arrangement with one of your future grandchildren and his future heirs..."
The lash struck Lion's face hard, causing a searing burn on his cheek... But the assault did not end. The Lion Tamer continued to rage mercilessly.
"The Lord with whom I would like to form an iron and lasting alliance, an alliance that could take the name of his dynasty, his legacy, to heights never known until now, will no longer have to make decisions driven by pride and resentment.
That Lord will have to go back to being the Wise, Mighty, and Objective Lion he once was."
Tywin stood up vigorously, clenching his fists. Pale green eyes flecked with gold-sputtered with murderous intent.
The more he stared into the face of that unnatural demon, the more the urge grew to summon his entire guard on alert within voice range to make havoc on him.
All it would take was one word, just one, and the individual who had dared to speak his Johanna's name so impudently would be in Gregor Clegane's hands.
The boy did not seem to be intimidated by her gesture. Instead, those silvery-green eyes accepted the challenge showing no signs of relenting.
'Fool! You continue to challenge me?' Tywin Lannister thought as he gritted his teeth...anger was taking over.
The seconds ticked by and seemed eternal... then Tywin looked away, heading for the small table behind the desk.
Rationality and experience prevailed over the madness and impulsiveness of the moment.
The Old Lion filled a generous cup of golden Arbor and strolled towards the balcony.
He did not care to turn his back on the opponent who had just unhorsed him and verbally trampled him.
Minutes of silence, broken now and then by the rustling of the wind and sips of wine, passed...
"Assuming, and I stress 'assuming', that there is merit to what has been said and that House Lannister might in the slightest degree consider this imaginary alliance... What would you propose?" Tywin asked with a great effort of will and open-mindedness.
"Before we get to such imaginary assumptions, I will first have to ask you a question. If tomorrow Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of his name and rightful claimant to the Iron Throne, openly declared himself to the world with the entirety of Dorne behind him, what would happen?" Duncan asked in turn.
"It would be Open War against the Crown." So replied the Lord of Casterly Rock.
"Aye, but what armies would they move against whom, I wonder?" The heir to Torrhen's Square.
"Robert would welcome the challenge and personally march against Rhaegar's heir. The lands of Crown, Storm, West and North..." he paused for a moment to reason...
"Are you perhaps assuming that Lord Eddard Stark would not flock to his King's gathering?" Tywin turned, searching his gaze again.
"Incorrect question, my Lord. Even assuming all the other Great Houses would respond to the 'Usurper' King's muster, how many men do you think he could muster? How many Lords and Ladies of Westeros would want to march to the Bone Road or Prince's Pass to face the Dornish in their own battleground?
Summer is approaching, and the barren moors of the desert will be as inclement as Winter in the North...
How many would rather abstain from the conflict or send the token enough number of men and resources to avoid being branded traitors?" Tywin thought back to the military campaign of Daeron I, "The Young Dragon", and realized how uncertain the answer was, but he didn't want to give it away so easily.
"Robert has shown amply time and again that he is a King not to be challenged on the battlefield. Have you forgotten the nefarious fate of House Greyjoy by any chance?
The Crown collected over sixty thousand swords and four hundred ships in less than two moons." The Old Lion wanted to test the critical deductions and ingenuity of the mind that, until now, had never lost a battle.
Tywin knew his limits better than anyone. He was an exemplary leader and strategist but not the best in Westeros. Randyll Tarly and Jason Mallister were truly fearsome strategists and opponents who, with equal men and resources, he wasn't so sure he could defeat on the field. But that boy...
The Protector of the West had secretly gathered information on all the war strategies used by the boy in the battles of Mill Snow, The Braves Companion, Bear Island and Pyke...
Bloody Snow was an adversary he really would have preferred not to meet on the battlefield. He was crazy, unpredictable, and brilliant. And if that wasn't enough, the quality of his troops was on a whole other level than the elite forces Casterly Rock could offer.
"This is true. The Greyjoy Rebellion was a failure on all fronts, but... Let's assume that Balon Greyjoy had chosen a different path to Iron Islands independence.
Ironmen have harassed the west coast of Westeros for millennia with raids, rapes, and pillaging. Especially the lands of the West and North...
If Balon had chosen to sit on the throne of Salt and Rock and announce to all the world that from now on, The Old Way would end and that from that moment on, the Iron Islands would be famous for trade, fishing, and the safety of the seas, avoiding launching mad attacks on Lannisport, Seaguard, and Bear Island, how many would have joined Robert in recapturing those barren and dangerous pieces of rock?
You Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of The West, what military support would you have offered to the Crown?"
The third tremendous blow entered his chest, denting Tywin Lannister's shining red armour. Knocking him clean off the Golden Lion, proud and fierce as he rode.
A myriad of thoughts, hypotheses and plausible scenarios invested the true pillar of the Crown.
What would he have done in that case? War? No.
Instead of sailing with an armed fleet to reconquer useless pieces of rock forgotten by the gods, he would have marched with an army of advisors and delegates to King's Landing.
He would have personally squeezed every lesser Lord, advisor, or council member so that Robert would choose Peace and negotiations over War...
The threat of sea marauders was the root cause of the stagnant naval trade in the West. Such a scenario would have only brought enormous benefits to his lands and the entire Kingdom.
So much for sixty thousand swords. Robert would have been lucky to get ten thousand of them together! House Redwine would never have sacrificed its fleet for such senseless folly.
Now Tywin could see it clearly-he saw the hypothetical scenario of an all-out war against Dorne.
{Who would he fight? And to what end? What did Robert Baratheon's kingdom offer in exchange for a bloody and costly war?}
What if Aegon sang his comeback song to the world while remaining well within the safety of the sand walls? What if Dorne did not move to attack the Kingdom lands but chose a Hyper Defensive war?
...Without any direct provocation from the Dornians, forty...perhaps fifty thousand swords at most would march through Prince's Pass.
Dorne knew its sandy, rocky desert better than anyone.
Poisoned wells, guerrilla warfare among the rocky paths, assaults on supply caravans... If Tywin had been in command of Dorne's army, he would have implemented hundreds or more counter-offensives to counter Robert's raging hammer.
He would have exhausted the Stags King's army step by step by avoiding direct confrontation...
And Robert Baratheon, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, could not have afforded to lose a single battle.
Half of his fragile domain would switch sides and unleash Chaos on all the remaining Six Kingdoms at the first defeat.
Aegon had everything to offer - lands, castles, titles. He could have sold off half the continent with just paper and ink... but what about the Crown? What could King Robert have offered his 'loyal' vassals?
An all-out war would have been too risky...
A blade in the shadows? Poison? The song of Targaryen madness? Were those their best weapons to counter the rightful heir to the Iron Throne?
No... If they hadn't even been able to find out where Aegon and Rhaenys had been hiding these past six years, what chance would they succeed?
The House of Black and White was 'Absolutely Out of Reach'. The faceless men demanded a sum so obscene that it would have made that of the bratty Tallhart of the time pale...
'... The unknown Protector! How did I not think of that!' Tywin turned his gaze to the white-haired compound figure sitting behind him.
What if that unknown force was also behind it to protect Aegon?
Nothing was more disadvantageous in war than facing unknown forces...
The prospects of victory were lowering by the second in Lord Tywin Lannister's brilliant mind.
The foundation on which he built his future dynasty was more fragile than he thought...
If these thoughts had blossomed at the moment when Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch came to him empty-handed on that fateful day in King's Landing... Lorch would not have gotten away with trivial floggings or Gregor with simple imprisonment... No... Both would have been hung to rot in front of the gates of Casterly Rock after slow torture.
Time passed, and all the possible bleak and disastrous scenarios surfaced in Old Lion's mind.
A question shattered those thoughts...
"Do you understand my point of view now, Lord Warden of the West?"
*********
End Chapter.
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