Chapter 109: ‘ The Golden Age ‘
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Chapter 109: ‘ The Golden Age ‘
POV: Duncan; Updated from novelbIn.(c)om
Lord's Solarium, Casterly Rock.
A few seconds after a point of view was exposed...
Tywin turned around again to give me another hard, unforgiving look.
I was swaggering around, but I was beginning to feel the weight of tension. The man's presence was truly remarkable.
Of course, it would have taken more than that to make me waver, but I began to suspect that that very dangerous enchanted banner was in part an answer to Tywin's murderous thirst.
The sixth sense was screaming danger from two different positions.
And then...
"You're right."
Two wonderful profound words came out of Lion's mouth.
'Oh, Old Gods, I thank you... phiuuw... ', it would have been too risky to scramble beyond that individual.
''Dorne is a power that should not be underestimated. However... other forces should not be underestimated. Forces that the Crown could call upon for help." Tywin was trying to find out what other big players were playing in the shadows. I could see where he was going with this.
"You mean the Iron Bank? Would you go so far as to risk it?" I asked, following Lion's face as he slowly made his way to the glass jug.
The man filled two more cups serving me one. Not that he had asked if I liked it, it was more of a forced offer, but...it would have been rude to refuse.
After we drank and Tywin returned to sit in a slightly more relaxed position, he said, "No. I wouldn't go that far, but would I if I had to? Yes, without a doubt..."
"And that way, what would become of your legacy? What would you leave behind after the Seven Kingdoms burned? Nothing but death, destruction, and misery," I replied in a less aggressive tone.
"All wars bring death, destruction and misery. It's part of the game.
From the ashes of one era, another will arise." Tywin.
"An age that will belong to the Titan of Braavos. You understand the power behind that temple better than anyone in the West. The Iron Bank may support you at first, but we both know that their most excellent trade is war itself.
They openly fund one faction and discreetly subsidize the other, gaining from both, and eventually, they'll get their hands on what's left by stripping the victor of everything." Tywin seemed to appreciate my reflection...
It wasn't a threat but a little test to try me out.
The Lion was still sniffing the offered plate of meat to assess its quality.
"And what of the power that protects you and the Targaryens behind the scenes?" Tywin asked, throwing a curveball.
"Mmm... A neutral and impartial power that is not to be provoked, my lord.
The forces at play you are attempting to uncover are far more dangerous and complex than you imagine. The Iron Throne would look like a toy in comparison." Tywin pricked up his ears, spurting curiosity and attention from every pore.
"What forces are we talking about? Let's hear it..." He asked shamelessly.
"Nha, you can't get off that cheap, my lord. And anyway... even if I wanted to, I still couldn't talk to you about it." This only seemed to increase Lion's hunger for knowing more.
"And why couldn't you?" Tywin.
"Simple, because we are not yet strong enough to uncover that veil and face the consequences of doing so.
We live unknowingly in their shadow, and when that shadow is revealed, our mouths will inevitably try to scream, thus unleashing the true horrors of this world." The Lion widened his eyes. I was pleased to note that the ruler of the Lann Dynasty seemed to take that warning seriously.
We both took a moment to cool our throats. It was an exquisite vintage of Arbor. I particularly disliked the tartness of the white wine, but this one literally exploded with sweetness on the palate with a perfect balance of acidity.
"'Aren't we strong enough yet?' You sound like I've already chosen to ally with you." Tywin.
"Well, I've only uncovered one corner of that 'veil' to Prince Doran and Lord Eddard Stark... Both were terrified and shocked to catch just a glimpse of the giants' feet behind. But nevertheless, they accepted the alliance with full cooperation.
And my instincts suggest that you will be no less, Lord Tywin..."
'Poor Ned he has glimpsed more than most and still has trouble sleeping at night.'
Tywin crossed his hands, leaning his head and back against the throne padded with fine red padded leather. He was carefully considering what was said.
"Difficult to evaluate the proposal if all the possible pros and cons of this alliance are not laid out first...
Relations between the North and West are decent; there's no denying that... but what about House Targaryen and House Martell? I don't need to tell you all the cracks in those relationships...
What guarantees do I have that as soon as the boy Dragon gains a strong position, he will not roar Fire and Blood towards my House and my legacy? Or that the moment I turn my back on the snake, it will not bite me and poison me?
You have haggled like a cheap butcher, Duncan of House Tallhart. You extol the freshness of your wares with nothing but acceptable words. But, if you don't show what the meat you want to offer looks, smells, or tastes like, and you don't even reveal the names of the other possible predators interested, why should the Lion accept?" It was a decent metaphor. I couldn't give him any less...
"Ahah, yes, you're partly right, my lord... You'll be sampling a small portion of the merchandise in person shortly. You have my word. But first... allow this two-bit merchant to sing his final verse." I calmly rose from my chair, carrying the cup with me. I approached the balcony admiring the beautiful scenery ahead. I inhaled a relaxed, pleasant sea breeze.
Tywin waited patiently for the last act.
It was not yet possible for me to speak openly. Zick had been clear.
I had the choice of whether or not to expose The History of the Known World to members of the Stark, Harlaw and Martell royal families, but under no circumstances could I reveal House Lannister, one of the remaining four royal families from the time of the Peace Treaty, directly to anything about House Lann or the betrayal of House Hightower.
Only the Guardians, the three leaders of the first three factions of the World, the Kings of the royal families (excluding Lannister) and their heirs could guard the knowledge.
Oldtown had the right to make sure the secret was kept throughout Westeros. If not, it would be open warfare...
Twice in this century, the absolute taboo was broken. First, in 209 AC, by an advisor to Daeron II, The Good... In less than a year, the King and a third of Westeros perished in what is now remembered as 'The Great Spring Epidemic'...
And in 232 A.C. in Oldtown itself... A member of the citadel council discovered, through lost documents, the truth and told the story openly in front of half a tavern that same night. The following day, 'The Grey Plague' struck the town, and Lord Quenton Hightower sealed the gates and ports of Oldtown, burning ships and ordering the city watch to kill anyone who tried to escape.
Tywin felt a sharp twinge in his chest. A feeling he hadn't felt in almost a decade.
He knew that the boy had not yet finished conveying his dream in front of him. Nevertheless, Tywin sensed the authenticity of those words.
He had grown up and lived most of his life in King's Landing. A nest of storytellers and liars. Lying was the order of the day.
He knew the boy was not lying and that he genuinely believed in that dream.
A dream that, in a time gone by, would have dragged a Young Lion into the fray, fighting hard alongside the visionary, defending him tooth and claw to the end.
But by now, the Lion was old and tired. He can fight only to defend what remained of his past dreams. He no longer had the strength to venture into other unattainable goals.
The pang in his chest that he felt was caused by that individual's words.
Before they were spoken, Tywin listened with opportunistic ears.
To his shame, he was listening to every word with the assumption of taking advantage of any benefit to the House of Lannister and absorbing any information that might be useful in stopping Aegon's return.
The boy had already lost at the start. Tywin would never allow another Targaryen to sit on the Iron Throne again. It wasn't a logical choice but an emotional one.
Even if all the world's promised benefits had been delivered on a golden carpet, he still would have refused if it meant the return of the Targaryen House.
The boy was skilled, very skilled in speech. He would have seduced nine hundred and ninety-nine nobles out of a thousand with those persuasive words.
Despite the promises offered and the premise of a common enemy he did not doubt could exist, Tywin Lannister remained that remaining one.
Yet, though the man had enough hair on his stomach to do the job that needed to be done, he could no longer take advantage of the willing eleven-year-old who would fight heart and soul for what he believed in.
The words that set off the last feeble spark in Lion's heart, making the pain unbearable, were those Three:
'The Golden Age...' thought the man making himself overwhelmed by old sad memories.
He no longer had the time to stand still like an idiot.
The boy kept looking at him with a confused expression.
He owed at least an explanation for his actions.
"You have achieved many commendable things briefly, Duncan of House Tallhart. Even more remarkable than mine in the heyday of my youth..." The boy widened his eyes slightly.
"Don't give me that shocked look.
I may be old and proud, but I can still admit a truth when it is laid out in plain sight before the world.
We have reached similar heights and so heed the advice of the one who once had the same light in his eyes as you.
Dreams are ephemeral and intangible. They give you strength, the hope necessary to believe in a better tomorrow, and then they leave you slipping away like mist between your fingers.
I have fought a lot. Hard, without ever looking back, constantly getting back up on my feet. Even when the forces that gripped my great dream seemed insurmountable, I clenched my fists and swallowed my blood, never ceasing to fight.
But the more obstacles I encountered, the more allies I lost and my strength and hopes.
The higher the point reached on the ladder of your dream, the more the fall will break you. One missed handhold, one push too hard, one false step and the end of all is what remains.
So give it up, Duncan of House Tallhart...
And I'm not talking about your dream. I know that anything I could say or do to convince you to give up on your vision would be futile.
You're young. You have good resources and a sound mind to put them to good use.
I recognize that look... many years ago, I had a similar expression.
But you must desist from convincing me.
I am not the person you seek. I do not support that will help you climb that peak, but only an obstacle that will do everything in its power to drag you down that ladder." The boy's gaze seemed more confused than ever.
Tywin sighed and reluctantly began to recount what he hoped he could one day forget in his heart.
"More than thirty years ago, two boys were full of dreams and expectations.
We had grown up together, constantly exchanging ideas about how we could help all Seven Kingdoms...
You know who I'm talking about?" The boy seemed well versed in Tywin Lannister's bibliography.
"It was you and Aerys..." the young dreamer replied.
"Correct answer." Tywin finished what was left of the second cup of wine.
"When Aerys and I thought of all the possibilities this world had to offer, all the missed opportunities of past Kings, all the mistakes we would never make, Aerys vowed that if he ever became King, he and I would be the pioneers who would take the Seven Kingdoms to heights never before seen.
A time of splendour, prosperity, and wealth even greater than the Kingdom of Jaenerys I...
And that one day, the history books would remember that period as
The Golden Age."
*****
End Chapter
--------------------
****If you have a chance and desire to support me.
Here's my Ko-fy link for you: /duncanrandargotpaladin
Thanks everyone and leave a comment! See you next time!****
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 109: ‘ The Golden Age ‘
POV: Duncan; Updated from novelbIn.(c)om
Lord's Solarium, Casterly Rock.
A few seconds after a point of view was exposed...
Tywin turned around again to give me another hard, unforgiving look.
I was swaggering around, but I was beginning to feel the weight of tension. The man's presence was truly remarkable.
Of course, it would have taken more than that to make me waver, but I began to suspect that that very dangerous enchanted banner was in part an answer to Tywin's murderous thirst.
The sixth sense was screaming danger from two different positions.
And then...
"You're right."
Two wonderful profound words came out of Lion's mouth.
'Oh, Old Gods, I thank you... phiuuw... ', it would have been too risky to scramble beyond that individual.
''Dorne is a power that should not be underestimated. However... other forces should not be underestimated. Forces that the Crown could call upon for help." Tywin was trying to find out what other big players were playing in the shadows. I could see where he was going with this.
"You mean the Iron Bank? Would you go so far as to risk it?" I asked, following Lion's face as he slowly made his way to the glass jug.
The man filled two more cups serving me one. Not that he had asked if I liked it, it was more of a forced offer, but...it would have been rude to refuse.
After we drank and Tywin returned to sit in a slightly more relaxed position, he said, "No. I wouldn't go that far, but would I if I had to? Yes, without a doubt..."
"And that way, what would become of your legacy? What would you leave behind after the Seven Kingdoms burned? Nothing but death, destruction, and misery," I replied in a less aggressive tone.
"All wars bring death, destruction and misery. It's part of the game.
From the ashes of one era, another will arise." Tywin.
"An age that will belong to the Titan of Braavos. You understand the power behind that temple better than anyone in the West. The Iron Bank may support you at first, but we both know that their most excellent trade is war itself.
They openly fund one faction and discreetly subsidize the other, gaining from both, and eventually, they'll get their hands on what's left by stripping the victor of everything." Tywin seemed to appreciate my reflection...
It wasn't a threat but a little test to try me out.
The Lion was still sniffing the offered plate of meat to assess its quality.
"And what of the power that protects you and the Targaryens behind the scenes?" Tywin asked, throwing a curveball.
"Mmm... A neutral and impartial power that is not to be provoked, my lord.
The forces at play you are attempting to uncover are far more dangerous and complex than you imagine. The Iron Throne would look like a toy in comparison." Tywin pricked up his ears, spurting curiosity and attention from every pore.
"What forces are we talking about? Let's hear it..." He asked shamelessly.
"Nha, you can't get off that cheap, my lord. And anyway... even if I wanted to, I still couldn't talk to you about it." This only seemed to increase Lion's hunger for knowing more.
"And why couldn't you?" Tywin.
"Simple, because we are not yet strong enough to uncover that veil and face the consequences of doing so.
We live unknowingly in their shadow, and when that shadow is revealed, our mouths will inevitably try to scream, thus unleashing the true horrors of this world." The Lion widened his eyes. I was pleased to note that the ruler of the Lann Dynasty seemed to take that warning seriously.
We both took a moment to cool our throats. It was an exquisite vintage of Arbor. I particularly disliked the tartness of the white wine, but this one literally exploded with sweetness on the palate with a perfect balance of acidity.
"'Aren't we strong enough yet?' You sound like I've already chosen to ally with you." Tywin.
"Well, I've only uncovered one corner of that 'veil' to Prince Doran and Lord Eddard Stark... Both were terrified and shocked to catch just a glimpse of the giants' feet behind. But nevertheless, they accepted the alliance with full cooperation.
And my instincts suggest that you will be no less, Lord Tywin..."
'Poor Ned he has glimpsed more than most and still has trouble sleeping at night.'
Tywin crossed his hands, leaning his head and back against the throne padded with fine red padded leather. He was carefully considering what was said.
"Difficult to evaluate the proposal if all the possible pros and cons of this alliance are not laid out first...
Relations between the North and West are decent; there's no denying that... but what about House Targaryen and House Martell? I don't need to tell you all the cracks in those relationships...
What guarantees do I have that as soon as the boy Dragon gains a strong position, he will not roar Fire and Blood towards my House and my legacy? Or that the moment I turn my back on the snake, it will not bite me and poison me?
You have haggled like a cheap butcher, Duncan of House Tallhart. You extol the freshness of your wares with nothing but acceptable words. But, if you don't show what the meat you want to offer looks, smells, or tastes like, and you don't even reveal the names of the other possible predators interested, why should the Lion accept?" It was a decent metaphor. I couldn't give him any less...
"Ahah, yes, you're partly right, my lord... You'll be sampling a small portion of the merchandise in person shortly. You have my word. But first... allow this two-bit merchant to sing his final verse." I calmly rose from my chair, carrying the cup with me. I approached the balcony admiring the beautiful scenery ahead. I inhaled a relaxed, pleasant sea breeze.
Tywin waited patiently for the last act.
It was not yet possible for me to speak openly. Zick had been clear.
I had the choice of whether or not to expose The History of the Known World to members of the Stark, Harlaw and Martell royal families, but under no circumstances could I reveal House Lannister, one of the remaining four royal families from the time of the Peace Treaty, directly to anything about House Lann or the betrayal of House Hightower.
Only the Guardians, the three leaders of the first three factions of the World, the Kings of the royal families (excluding Lannister) and their heirs could guard the knowledge.
Oldtown had the right to make sure the secret was kept throughout Westeros. If not, it would be open warfare...
Twice in this century, the absolute taboo was broken. First, in 209 AC, by an advisor to Daeron II, The Good... In less than a year, the King and a third of Westeros perished in what is now remembered as 'The Great Spring Epidemic'...
And in 232 A.C. in Oldtown itself... A member of the citadel council discovered, through lost documents, the truth and told the story openly in front of half a tavern that same night. The following day, 'The Grey Plague' struck the town, and Lord Quenton Hightower sealed the gates and ports of Oldtown, burning ships and ordering the city watch to kill anyone who tried to escape.
Tywin felt a sharp twinge in his chest. A feeling he hadn't felt in almost a decade.
He knew that the boy had not yet finished conveying his dream in front of him. Nevertheless, Tywin sensed the authenticity of those words.
He had grown up and lived most of his life in King's Landing. A nest of storytellers and liars. Lying was the order of the day.
He knew the boy was not lying and that he genuinely believed in that dream.
A dream that, in a time gone by, would have dragged a Young Lion into the fray, fighting hard alongside the visionary, defending him tooth and claw to the end.
But by now, the Lion was old and tired. He can fight only to defend what remained of his past dreams. He no longer had the strength to venture into other unattainable goals.
The pang in his chest that he felt was caused by that individual's words.
Before they were spoken, Tywin listened with opportunistic ears.
To his shame, he was listening to every word with the assumption of taking advantage of any benefit to the House of Lannister and absorbing any information that might be useful in stopping Aegon's return.
The boy had already lost at the start. Tywin would never allow another Targaryen to sit on the Iron Throne again. It wasn't a logical choice but an emotional one.
Even if all the world's promised benefits had been delivered on a golden carpet, he still would have refused if it meant the return of the Targaryen House.
The boy was skilled, very skilled in speech. He would have seduced nine hundred and ninety-nine nobles out of a thousand with those persuasive words.
Despite the promises offered and the premise of a common enemy he did not doubt could exist, Tywin Lannister remained that remaining one.
Yet, though the man had enough hair on his stomach to do the job that needed to be done, he could no longer take advantage of the willing eleven-year-old who would fight heart and soul for what he believed in.
The words that set off the last feeble spark in Lion's heart, making the pain unbearable, were those Three:
'The Golden Age...' thought the man making himself overwhelmed by old sad memories.
He no longer had the time to stand still like an idiot.
The boy kept looking at him with a confused expression.
He owed at least an explanation for his actions.
"You have achieved many commendable things briefly, Duncan of House Tallhart. Even more remarkable than mine in the heyday of my youth..." The boy widened his eyes slightly.
"Don't give me that shocked look.
I may be old and proud, but I can still admit a truth when it is laid out in plain sight before the world.
We have reached similar heights and so heed the advice of the one who once had the same light in his eyes as you.
Dreams are ephemeral and intangible. They give you strength, the hope necessary to believe in a better tomorrow, and then they leave you slipping away like mist between your fingers.
I have fought a lot. Hard, without ever looking back, constantly getting back up on my feet. Even when the forces that gripped my great dream seemed insurmountable, I clenched my fists and swallowed my blood, never ceasing to fight.
But the more obstacles I encountered, the more allies I lost and my strength and hopes.
The higher the point reached on the ladder of your dream, the more the fall will break you. One missed handhold, one push too hard, one false step and the end of all is what remains.
So give it up, Duncan of House Tallhart...
And I'm not talking about your dream. I know that anything I could say or do to convince you to give up on your vision would be futile.
You're young. You have good resources and a sound mind to put them to good use.
I recognize that look... many years ago, I had a similar expression.
But you must desist from convincing me.
I am not the person you seek. I do not support that will help you climb that peak, but only an obstacle that will do everything in its power to drag you down that ladder." The boy's gaze seemed more confused than ever.
Tywin sighed and reluctantly began to recount what he hoped he could one day forget in his heart.
"More than thirty years ago, two boys were full of dreams and expectations.
We had grown up together, constantly exchanging ideas about how we could help all Seven Kingdoms...
You know who I'm talking about?" The boy seemed well versed in Tywin Lannister's bibliography.
"It was you and Aerys..." the young dreamer replied.
"Correct answer." Tywin finished what was left of the second cup of wine.
"When Aerys and I thought of all the possibilities this world had to offer, all the missed opportunities of past Kings, all the mistakes we would never make, Aerys vowed that if he ever became King, he and I would be the pioneers who would take the Seven Kingdoms to heights never before seen.
A time of splendour, prosperity, and wealth even greater than the Kingdom of Jaenerys I...
And that one day, the history books would remember that period as
The Golden Age."
*****
End Chapter
--------------------
****If you have a chance and desire to support me.
Here's my Ko-fy link for you: /duncanrandargotpaladin
Thanks everyone and leave a comment! See you next time!****
Chapter 109: The Golden Age POV: Duncan; Updated from novelbIn.comLord's Solarium, Casterly Rock. A few seconds after a point of view was exposed... Tywin turned around again to give me another hard, unforgiving look. I was swaggering around, but I was beginning to feel the weight of tension. The man's presence was truly remarkable. Of course, it would have taken more than that to make me waver, but I began to suspect that that very dangerous enchanted banner was in part an answer to Tywin's murderous thirst. The sixth sense was screaming danger from two different positions. And then... "You're right." Two wonderful profound words came out of Lion's mouth. 'Oh, Old Gods, I thank you... phiuuw... ', it would have been too risky to scramble beyond that individual. ''Dorne is a power that should not be underestimated. However... other forces should not be underestimated. Forces that the Crown could call upon for help." Tywin was trying to find out what other big players were playing in the shadows. I could see where he was going with this. "You mean the Iron Bank? Would you go so far as to risk it?" I asked, following Lion's face as he slowly made his way to the glass jug. The man filled two more cups serving me one. Not that he had asked if I liked it, it was more of a forced offer, but...it would have been rude to refuse. After we drank and Tywin returned to sit in a slightly more relaxed position, he said, "No. I wouldn't go that far, but would I if I had to? Yes, without a doubt..." "And that way, what would become of your legacy? What would you leave behind after the Seven Kingdoms burned? Nothing but death, destruction, and misery," I replied in a less aggressive tone. "All wars bring death, destruction and misery. It's part of the game. From the ashes of one era, another will arise." Tywin. "An age that will belong to the Titan of Braavos. You understand the power behind that temple better than anyone in the West. The Iron Bank may support you at first, but we both know that their most excellent trade is war itself. They openly fund one faction and discreetly subsidize the other, gaining from both, and eventually, they'll get their hands on what's left by stripping the victor of everything." Tywin seemed to appreciate my reflection... It wasn't a threat but a little test to try me out. The Lion was still sniffing the offered plate of meat to assess its quality. "And what of the power that protects you and the Targaryens behind the scenes?" Tywin asked, throwing a curveball. "Mmm... A neutral and impartial power that is not to be provoked, my lord. The forces at play you are attempting to uncover are far more dangerous and complex than you imagine. The Iron Throne would look like a toy in comparison." Tywin pricked up his ears, spurting curiosity and attention from every pore. "What forces are we talking about? Let's hear it..." He asked shamelessly. "Nha, you can't get off that cheap, my lord. And anyway... even if I wanted to, I still couldn't talk to you about it." This only seemed to increase Lion's hunger for knowing more. "And why couldn't you?" Tywin. "Simple, because we are not yet strong enough to uncover that veil and face the consequences of doing so. We live unknowingly in their shadow, and when that shadow is revealed, our mouths will inevitably try to scream, thus unleashing the true horrors of this world." The Lion widened his eyes. I was pleased to note that the ruler of the Lann Dynasty seemed to take that warning seriously. We both took a moment to cool our throats. It was an exquisite vintage of Arbor. I particularly disliked the tartness of the white wine, but this one literally exploded with sweetness on the palate with a perfect balance of acidity. "'Aren't we strong enough yet?' You sound like I've already chosen to ally with you." Tywin. "Well, I've only uncovered one corner of that 'veil' to Prince Doran and Lord Eddard Stark... Both were terrified and shocked to catch just a glimpse of the giants' feet behind. But nevertheless, they accepted the alliance with full cooperation. And my instincts suggest that you will be no less, Lord Tywin..." 'Poor Ned he has glimpsed more than most and still has trouble sleeping at night.' Tywin crossed his hands, leaning his head and back against the throne padded with fine red padded leather. He was carefully considering what was said. "Difficult to evaluate the proposal if all the possible pros and cons of this alliance are not laid out first... Relations between the North and West are decent; there's no denying that... but what about House Targaryen and House Martell? I don't need to tell you all the cracks in those relationships... What guarantees do I have that as soon as the boy Dragon gains a strong position, he will not roar Fire and Blood towards my House and my legacy? Or that the moment I turn my back on the snake, it will not bite me and poison me? You have haggled like a cheap butcher, Duncan of House Tallhart. You extol the freshness of your wares with nothing but acceptable words. But, if you don't show what the meat you want to offer looks, smells, or tastes like, and you don't even reveal the names of the other possible predators interested, why should the Lion accept?" It was a decent metaphor. I couldn't give him any less... "Ahah, yes, you're partly right, my lord... You'll be sampling a small portion of the merchandise in person shortly. You have my word. But first... allow this two-bit merchant to sing his final verse." I calmly rose from my chair, carrying the cup with me. I approached the balcony admiring the beautiful scenery ahead. I inhaled a relaxed, pleasant sea breeze. Tywin waited patiently for the last act. It was not yet possible for me to speak openly. Zick had been clear. I had the choice of whether or not to expose The History of the Known World to members of the Stark, Harlaw and Martell royal families, but under no circumstances could I reveal House Lannister, one of the remaining four royal families from the time of the Peace Treaty, directly to anything about House Lann or the betrayal of House Hightower. Only the Guardians, the three leaders of the first three factions of the World, the Kings of the royal families excluding Lannister and their heirs could guard the knowledge. Oldtown had the right to make sure the secret was kept throughout Westeros. If not, it would be open warfare... Twice in this century, the absolute taboo was broken. First, in 209 AC, by an advisor to Daeron II, The Good... In less than a year, the King and a third of Westeros perished in what is now remembered as 'The Great Spring Epidemic'... And in 232 A.C. in Oldtown itself... A member of the citadel council discovered, through lost documents, the truth and told the story openly in front of half a tavern that same night. The following day, 'The Grey Plague' struck the town, and Lord Quenton Hightower sealed the gates and ports of Oldtown, burning ships and ordering the city watch to kill anyone who tried to escape. Tywin felt a sharp twinge in his chest. A feeling he hadn't felt in almost a decade. He knew that the boy had not yet finished conveying his dream in front of him. Nevertheless, Tywin sensed the authenticity of those words. He had grown up and lived most of his life in King's Landing. A nest of storytellers and liars. Lying was the order of the day. He knew the boy was not lying and that he genuinely believed in that dream. A dream that, in a time gone by, would have dragged a Young Lion into the fray, fighting hard alongside the visionary, defending him tooth and claw to the end. But by now, the Lion was old and tired. He can fight only to defend what remained of his past dreams. He no longer had the strength to venture into other unattainable goals. The pang in his chest that he felt was caused by that individual's words. Before they were spoken, Tywin listened with opportunistic ears. To his shame, he was listening to every word with the assumption of taking advantage of any benefit to the House of Lannister and absorbing any information that might be useful in stopping Aegon's return. The boy had already lost at the start. Tywin would never allow another Targaryen to sit on the Iron Throne again. It wasn't a logical choice but an emotional one. Even if all the world's promised benefits had been delivered on a golden carpet, he still would have refused if it meant the return of the Targaryen House. The boy was skilled, very skilled in speech. He would have seduced nine hundred and ninety-nine nobles out of a thousand with those persuasive words. Despite the promises offered and the premise of a common enemy he did not doubt could exist, Tywin Lannister remained that remaining one. Yet, though the man had enough hair on his stomach to do the job that needed to be done, he could no longer take advantage of the willing eleven-year-old who would fight heart and soul for what he believed in. The words that set off the last feeble spark in Lion's heart, making the pain unbearable, were those Three: 'The Golden Age...' thought the man making himself overwhelmed by old sad memories. He no longer had the time to stand still like an idiot. The boy kept looking at him with a confused expression. He owed at least an explanation for his actions. "You have achieved many commendable things briefly, Duncan of House Tallhart. Even more remarkable than mine in the heyday of my youth..." The boy widened his eyes slightly. "Don't give me that shocked look. I may be old and proud, but I can still admit a truth when it is laid out in plain sight before the world. We have reached similar heights and so heed the advice of the one who once had the same light in his eyes as you. Dreams are ephemeral and intangible. They give you strength, the hope necessary to believe in a better tomorrow, and then they leave you slipping away like mist between your fingers. I have fought a lot. Hard, without ever looking back, constantly getting back up on my feet. Even when the forces that gripped my great dream seemed insurmountable, I clenched my fists and swallowed my blood, never ceasing to fight. But the more obstacles I encountered, the more allies I lost and my strength and hopes. The higher the point reached on the ladder of your dream, the more the fall will break you. One missed handhold, one push too hard, one false step and the end of all is what remains. So give it up, Duncan of House Tallhart... And I'm not talking about your dream. I know that anything I could say or do to convince you to give up on your vision would be futile. You're young. You have good resources and a sound mind to put them to good use. I recognize that look... many years ago, I had a similar expression. But you must desist from convincing me. I am not the person you seek. I do not support that will help you climb that peak, but only an obstacle that will do everything in its power to drag you down that ladder." The boy's gaze seemed more confused than ever. Tywin sighed and reluctantly began to recount what he hoped he could one day forget in his heart. "More than thirty years ago, two boys were full of dreams and expectations. We had grown up together, constantly exchanging ideas about how we could help all Seven Kingdoms... You know who I'm talking about?" The boy seemed well versed in Tywin Lannister's bibliography. "It was you and Aerys..." the young dreamer replied. "Correct answer." Tywin finished what was left of the second cup of wine. "When Aerys and I thought of all the possibilities this world had to offer, all the missed opportunities of past Kings, all the mistakes we would never make, Aerys vowed that if he ever became King, he and I would be the pioneers who would take the Seven Kingdoms to heights never before seen. A time of splendour, prosperity, and wealth even greater than the Kingdom of Jaenerys I... And that one day, the history books would remember that period as The Golden Age." ***** End Chapter -------------------- ****If you have a chance and desire to support me. Here's my Ko-fy link for you: /duncanrandargotpaladin Thanks everyone and leave a comment! See you next time!****
