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saphronethaleph · 1 month ago

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Vassalation

“Father,” Tyrion said, entering Tywin’s command tent. “How are things?”

Tywin looked up, his expression tightening slightly.

“I did not send for you,” he said.

“I know, I know, you didn’t want to break the habit of a lifetime,” Tyrion replied. “And nor did I, which is why I’ve finally had a cup of good wine after entirely too long abstaining. But I am curious, and I wanted to find out exactly what was going on.”

He twitched the thumb of his free hand back towards the door of the tent. “For example… where, exactly, is the rest of the army? Is the plan to have Uncle Kevan bring it, or is there some grand stratagem at foot? I mostly ask because I do seem to have some soldiers in my own force, and while I know that’s a novel experience for both of us I would like to know what to do with them.”

“This is not the time for your japes, Tyrion,” Tywin replied, his gaze returning to the map.

“What is it a time for, then?” Tyrion replied. “Because I really think I deserve to know… after all, I seem to be the cause of this war you have going on.”

He coughed slightly. “It’s… not really something I expected, to be honest. But as I was saying… you have called the banners, yes?”

“Of course,” Tywin replied, tightly. “As soon as the word of your capture came. I could not let the insult go unavenged. A Lannister always pays his debts.”

Tyrion closed his eyes for a moment, then took a seat by the map.

“Then what is going on?” he asked. “It’s been quite long enough, there should be, what, half the muster here? I didn’t count more than about thirty-five hundred foot and fifteen hundred horse, mostly the ones with the munition plate paid and equipped at Casterly Rock directly. It should be four times that at least.”

Tywin looked up, with a slight frown.

“This is the muster,” he said, the sound of a dark, thick anger simmering beneath his voice. “And I do not appreciate this.”

The theoretical Lannister heir frowned.

“You don’t appreciate what, father?” he asked. “My comments? Because someone has to make them. Or do you mean the lack of men?”

“Of course I mean the lack of men,” Tywin said. “You’re incorrect, incidentally, there should be at least twelve thousand foot here and about eight thousand horse. The horse is what matters.”

“Do forgive me for my estimate,” Tyrion replied.

He drained the rest of his cup, then put it down.

“Must you?” Tywin asked.

“This is positively abstemious for me,” Tyrion answered. “I’ve barely even got drunk since organizing my own exoneration. Admittedly that’s mostly a lack of good wine, but…”

He stopped talking, rubbing his temples, and Tywin’s attention returned to the map.

Almost a minute passed, in tense silence, before Tyrion spoke up again.

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight, shall we?” he requested. “So, you have called the banners, and this is all you’re getting?”

Tywin didn’t answer, and Tyrion nodded.

“All right, all you’re getting so far,” he amended. “So… let’s see, what could possibly be the reasons for that?”

“Tyrion,” Tywin warned.

“I have stared death in the face, recently,” Tyrion commented. “You do know how the Vale executes people? I would have had about… oh, maybe half a minute between going out the door and hitting the ground. I thought about it a lot.”

He raised a hand, and counted. “So. Firstly. Do consider how you treat me, Father – I know that you’ve called the banners for me, and honestly that might actually be the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me.”

“If this is going to be insults, then remove yourself from my presence,” Tywin said.

“I suppose I could always turn myself in to, oh, why not a Stark this time?” Tyrion replied. “It might make a difference. But that would only make the problems worse, Father. You might see some of your bannermen just go home.”

“Those who aren’t already,” Tywin growled.

“Quite,” Tyrion agreed. “But I actually do have to bring it up – you called the banners to rescue me. And, I don’t mean to mince words, but most everyone in Westeros knows what you think of me, and they know you think terribly of me. The- the incident with…”

Tyrion almost mentioned her name, but shied away from it.

“...in any case, they know,” he resumed. “And they’ve heard how you speak of me. That I’m by far the worst of your children, unlike Cersei and Jaime. And a man who’s called to war asks himself – why would Lord Tywin call his banners for such a man?”

He folded his arms. “And they decide – either he thinks less of me than the Imp, or he’s only really calling his banners because of the insult to him.”

This time it was Tywin’s turn to look aside, his lips working in silence.

“Then we must move on to how this whole thing began,” Tyrion went on. “Once you began to call up your men, that is. Now, to be clear, much of my information comes from a sellsword and from the Mountain Clans, so if they know something, everyone knows it. And what they know is that Clegane and his men were despoiling the Riverlands, burning and raiding, raping and pillaging, and that they then ambushed the force sent by the King to bring Clegane to justice. And that Clegane is a mad dog, but he’s your mad dog… and one who remains in your army.”

Tywin waited a moment.

“Are you done?” he asked.

“Not in the least, but do go on?” Tyrion invited.

“That Clegane raided the Riverlands is slander,” the Lord Paramount said. “The raiders had no banners-”

“The raiders included the tallest man in Westeros,” Tyrion interrupted. “Which, and I should know, is a position where there is significantly less competition than the shortest. Father, not everyone who is not you is a fool – that Clegane did not show his banners means you can pretend it wasn’t him, but everyone truly knows it was. The Wildlings know it. And they know the Mountain That Rides is exactly the sort of person to kill for pleasure, since he did do it in front of the King not very long ago – I should remind you.”

He ticked off another point. “Though, speaking of which… Clegane is certainly one of your most valued vassals, but I did think about this, and I think he’s one of the comparatively few who’s got anything significant out of working for you. All because he’s useful to you.”

“Explain yourself,” Tywin said.

“Well, my dear sister hasn’t been doing very much to help, despite being the Queen,” Tyrion pointed out. “There’s quite a few important families in the Westerlands, and very few of them have anyone who’s so much as a lady in waiting, let alone important positions in the council. Of course, I could have missed some appointments… but it goes beyond that. Everyone knows that Casterly Rock’s mines are deep, and that the Lannisters are the richest family in Westeros… but how rich are the other lords of the Westerlands? A Lannister is Queen and another sits on the throne, but how many of the other lords of the Westerlands have any honours? A Lannister always pays his debts, but how many of your bannermen feel they owe you?”

Tywin’s hand clenched and unclenched.

“You are accusing me of being a poor ruler,” he said.

“Oh, not at all,” Tyrion replied. “I’m saying that your lords have reason to ask themselves… questions. Remember, Father, I’m trying to explain why you have five thousand men here instead of over twenty thousand… and this is when we need to come to the matter of Robert’s Rebellion.”

He met Tywin’s gaze, challengingly. “I know why you did what you did, Father. I know it was a good move. I know it put Cersei on the throne alongside Robert, and eliminated the strongest possible base of resistance to the new royal line. But you sacked a city after it opened its gates to you, tarring all your bannerman with the sack to this day – they still speak of it in the Vale and Riverlands, and it is not highly – and then had one of your favourites kill two infants.”

“Now you are accusing me of things I did not do,” Tywin objected, his gaze hard. “I did not order their deaths.”

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, and Tywin frowned at him.

After about twenty seconds of silence, Tyrion shook his head.

“And did you want them dead?” he asked. “Did you know what Clegane was going to do?”

Then he shrugged. “Well – it’s irrelevant, because what matters is what your bannermen see. And what they see is that… you do know that most people actually believe in the Seven, correct?”

Tyrion flicked his hands in a dismissive gesture. “I know, it’s hard for me to fathom as well, but they do, and both of those things are offences against the Seven… speaking of which, there’s Jaime. Because I do love him, but I’m his brother. I know him. Your bannermen don’t, and what they know is different.”

“They should know he is my oldest son and will be the lord of Casterley Rock after me!” Tywin said, in a voice that was quieter than it sounded like it should be.

Tyrion nodded, very slowly.

“Yes,” he said. “They know that. They know you’re trying to make him heir – it’s not exactly subtle. But think about that, Father – really think about it, from the outside. From the perspective of people who don’t know Jaime as well as I do. You’re trying to break a sacred oath, to give an oathbreaker and kingslayer the position as your heir. As the one who will be the next lord, to your vassals. They will notice – they could hardly not.”

Tywin turned away, and spent a long moment looking at the map.

“Are you done?” he asked. “Are you going to go and continue with the drunken behaviour that has lowered the opinion of our House?”

Tyrion rubbed his temples again.

“Father, nobody cares about that,” he said. “Nobody really cared about Robert being a womanizer and drunkard – it might have made people laugh, but they didn’t care. Not nearly as much as they care about these things – it’s not as if I’m your heir or anything.”

“And you will not persuade me to make you my heir if you behave like this,” Tywin said, tightly.

Tyrion stifled a groan.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he said. “The – the fact that I’m a possible heir is only as relevant here as that Kevan is a possible heir. Or Lancel, Tyrek, Willem… you have options and what people see is that you consider Jaime, the Kingslayer, as the best choice.”

He sighed. “But all right… there’s something else I haven’t mentioned yet. Something that… I heard from a different perspective myself, outside the Westerlands, and it made me really think about it.”

“Well?” Tywin asked, when Tyrion didn’t continue. “Out with it.”

“The Reynes and the Tarbecks,” Tyrion said, dropping the words into the conversation. “Forget any justification you might offer, Father – I know. I know it is more complicated than the way people see it from the outside, but people still see it from the outside. You called in debts, took hostages, went to war and destroyed two noble houses. Root and branch. While you were still the heir, and against your lord’s clearly expressed wishes.”

Tywin looked like he was ready to explode, and Tyrion raised a hand. “I know. I said I know, Father. But – this matters.”

“What do you propose I should have done?” Tywin practically snarled.

“Leave survivors!” Tyrion shot back. “That alone would have helped!”

He shook his head sharply, not trusting himself to speak any more, and closed his eyes for several seconds as he slowly leaned back in the chair.

“Loyalty is a two way street,” he said, eventually, in a quiet voice. “As soon as I got here I requisitioned arms and armour for the mountain men who followed me down from the Vale, and… you know, I think that’s what really got me contemplating all this. Because – it’s such a small thing but it made me realize. Fealty is a debt that goes in both directions… and a bannerman who doesn’t get the treatment they think they deserve, who doesn’t see a reason to fight for you, well, why should they?”

There were another few seconds of tight, tense silence.

“Leave,” Tywin said. “Don’t return before tomorrow morning.”

“As you wish, Lord Tywin,” Tyrion replied, all formal now, and slipped off his chair. “I’ll go and spend some time getting acquainted with wines… with the mountain men, for that matter. I suspect they’ll enjoy it.”

At the door to the tent, he paused.

“Side note,” he said. “Which I really should mention before I forget… you realize that Lord Eddard has a reputation for honour? Oddly, people trust him to repay his debts a lot more than they do us. It’s very peculiar.”

A moment later, Tyrion turned away to leave.

Tywin might as well have been carved in gold, for how little he reacted.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #tywin lannister #tyrion lannister #the result of reading ACOUP on vassal relations #loyalty is a two way street

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