Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Freedom
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Tywin POV

I sat in my solar in the Tower of the Hand, a stack of parchment lay on my desk, all of it concerning the running of the kingdoms. But at the moment, my focus strayed from my duties, for in my hand, I held a missive from my wife, Joanna.

The midday sun flooded the room, casting a bright glow over the parchment. Joanna's handwriting was clean and direct, her strokes as sharp as her wit. The letter brought good news, at least on the surface.

A moon ago, my city of Lannisport had been plagued by a spree of murders—hundreds missing or killed in the span of days, a slaughter without a named culprit.

Upon first hearing of this, I sent a missive to my brother Kevan. He had failed to manage the city in my absence, and in my letter, I reprimanded him, demanding that he find the culprits responsible. The killings were staining the reputation of House Lannister.

I wanted to know every detail about the murders.

In the letters I received from Kevan afterward, it was clear from his descriptions of the state of Lannisport's slums that this was no accident. Whoever orchestrated the chaos knew exactly what they were doing.

Still, the unrest served me in ways I couldn't have foreseen.

A moon ago, Joanna was supposed to arrive at court. But she had used the disorder as a shield, a way to avoid King's Landing and its web of intrigue.

I supported my wife's decision; after all, it was best for her. I knew Aerys lusted after her, and I don't know what I would do if he ever so much as laid a finger on her.

The very thought of the king made my teeth clench. I remembered all too well how he sneered when I informed him of Joanna's absence. When I gave the news that she would not be coming to court, he mocked her absence, ridiculing not only my wife but also me in front of his sycophants, attempting to diminish House Lannister and the Westerlands by extension.

In those moments, I came dangerously close to forgetting my self-control. My hands itched to seize him by the throat and crush the life from him. I could still hear his shrill laughter from the last council session, his eyes bright with the madness of power. Aerys is a fool.

He may wear the crown, but he does not rule. The coffers are full only because of me—because of my tax reforms and my ruthless collection of what is owed. Without me, he would be a beggar king.

The chaos in King's Landing after Aerys came to power was quelled by my efforts. I had done everything within my power as Hand of the King to improve the realm and elevate the prestige of House Lannister.

Yet Aerys had no appreciation for it, not even a simple show of respect or thanks.

Aerys neglects his duties while I labor in the shadows. *The king shits, and the Hand wipes*, I thought bitterly, the refrain all too familiar in my mind.

I rose from my desk, setting down the missive from Joanna. I walked away and stepped out onto the balcony, letting the cool breeze of King's Landing sweep over me.

I closed my eyes in thought, thinking of Joanna and my twins, Jaime and Cersei. A moon ago, if there hadn't been chaos in Lannisport, I could have met with them.

I could have embraced my wife. I could have gauged my future heir, Jaime—seen how much he had grown.

And Cersei...

As I was thinking of Cersei, I heard the clang of steel. I looked down from the Tower of the Hand.

Below, the sound of steel striking steel echoed across the courtyard, sharp and rhythmic.