25

 Chapter 25: Ch25 Scorn

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 25 Scorn

Myrcella Baratheon

She'd been enjoying being a child again, Cousin Martyn was nice. She hadn't spent a lot of time with him in the last life. He and his brother were fun to play with. They weren't as stupid or moronic as their brother Lancel...and Martyn remembered just like her, but Willem didn't. Martyn was also enjoying this second life with gusto, while also training as much as possible. He didn't want to end up like he did in the last life...not that she could blame him, she'd didn't want to meet the same end either.

Anyway, he was dragging everyone- the youngsters at least, around him, along in his pursuit of just letting go of everything and having fun despite all that they all knew was probably going to be happening in the near future.

War was a certainty that most of the people of the Rock understood was coming... and enough knew that it wasn't just against the living...

And yet, life went on, Uncle Tyrion was Lord of Casterly Rock now, and father had renounced all claims as the firstborn son, even though he had also disposed of his white cloak. She was unsure what exactly he would be doing now...well other than supporting Uncle Tyrion as he ruled the Westerlands.

Things had been oddly calm in Casterly Rock, but Myrcella didn't delude herself to think it was anything other than the calm before the storm...or maybe it was the eye of the storm?

Uncle Tyrion was in charge and things were going smoothly, Great Uncle Kevan was by his side, just as he had stood at Grandfather's side every time they had previously visited the Westerlands. Cousin Daven was running around, back and forth between the Rock and Lannisport, and other nearby areas on business, while various unbelieving Lords had come to see the new shift of power themselves. In the end, all had sworn fealty to uncle Tyrion, all their misgivings dissolving in the face of Uncle Tyrion's words and the supporting presence of Uncle Kevan, Father and Aunt Genna behind him...not to mention Uncle's lowborn sellsword Bronn. Myrcella wasn't sure how, but Bronn was now apparently betrothed to Alysanne Lefford. She'd spoken with the lady, and Alysanne had seemed surprisingly welcoming- even a bit happy for the coming wedding.

It was strange to see how life had changed...Mother was gone, she knew no one would be trying to save her- if she was even still alive. No matter what father said about her, a part of her still missed mother. Also, she was openly calling father, father. And no one was surprised by that or disapproving or that.

Myrcella paused, of course father is still one of the best swords in Westeros...that probably has something to do with it as well, she thought dryly.

Then there was the Hound. Joffrey's sworn sword was her shadow now, at least for most of her time and any time she left Casterly Rock.

That had taken some getting used to....

He'd always been more than a little bit scary. The name Clegane was not one that was welcome in most places of Westeros. His big brother had given their House more infamy with a single act that most Houses accumulated in several lifetimes...and Sandor's visage and demeanor hadn't helped any in the previous life.

But that was the previous life...he seemed to be...kinder now. More foul mouth as well.

She'd actually seen him smile once!

Getting over initial fear of him, she had started to talk to him and was getting his story from him bit by bit but it was slow going.

At the opposite to end to the happier Hound...was Tommen...

Despite the merry mood Martyn was creating, Tommen was still as sullen as he had been since finding out the truth about father. His anger and disgust hadn't abated. This new Tommen only looked like her sweet brother. He was spending his time alone, withdraw from anyone but her. Only she could drag him out to do anything constructive, or get him to be somewhat less sullen these days.

The adults...she snorted mentally, she'd been an adult just a matter of weeks ago. The adults were all concerned for him, no one more so than father. Not that there was anything he could do now for Tommen.

She could see the pain in father's eyes every time he encountered Tommen. Her sweet brother always had a hateful look to throw at father whenever they were forced to be in the same room or hall.

Tommen was a source of concern for all of House Lannister. Which led them to today. Uncle Tyrion had summoned them both to his solar.

Uncle Tyrion was sitting behind his desk when she entered, with Tommen following behind her. Great Uncle Kevan was here as well. Uncle Tyrion rose to greet them.

Her uncle was looking at her with a beaming smile. He walked up to her and leaned forward to gave her a kiss on the cheek, "And how are you are doing this beautiful day?" he said with a witty over the top tone.

She giggled and smiled back at her impish uncle, "I'm fine, uncle." She looked him in eye. They were of a height again now. Something else she'd have to get used again...at least for a while.

He gave a her a dazzling smile before turning to Tommen.

"Dear nephew," Tyrion began, "You need to smile more! This is a second chance at life. It's best to enjoy it to its fullest!" Tommen was shorter than him, and he reached out and ruffled his hair as he used to when they were younger.

Tommen gave him an annoyed look that caused Uncle Tyrion to laugh.

"Do you know why I've called you here?" Uncle Tyrion began when he stopped laughing.

Myrcella and Tommen both shook their heads.

He nodded and began speaking, "As Hand to the Queen Daenerys Targaryen, I wield a great deal of power," he began smugly, "in my capacity as such I have decided to declare you both members of House Lannister. You will be Myrcella Lannister and Tommen Lannister from this day hence!" he finished happily.

Myrcella was surprised and more than a little happy, the life of a bastard had not been something she had been looking forward to. She'd known that Tyrion would always look out for them but this was beyond what she had expected! Or hoped for. She had expected to be married off to a loyal Lannister knight when she came of age...but that was it.

"No," Tommen retorted fiercely, "I don't want to be Tommen Lannister. I'd rather be Tommen Waters."

Myrcella's surprise turned to shock, and she wasn't the only one, Tyrion and Kevan held similar expressions on their faces as the one that she was probably wearing. Surprise. Shock. Disbelief. Tommen wanted to known as a bastard?

Uncle Tyrion frowned, "Tommen?"

"I don't want to be a Lannister," Tommen repeated sullenly.

Uncle Kevan was gaping at Tommen, he sputtered and was about to say something, but Uncle Tyrion held up a hand stopping. Instead Uncle Kevan just frowned disapprovingly, but he didn't say what was on his mind.

"Alright then Tommen, then what do you want to be?" Uncle Tyrion asked inquisitively.

Tommen thought deeply for a moment before answering, "I want to be my own man..." he began earnestly, his sullenness disappearing for a moment as he trailed off. He turned to stare up at Uncle Kevan, "Can I be your squire?" he asked, suddenly earnest.

Uncle Kevan knelt down next to Tommen, his face softening, as a smile spreading across his aged face, "I think that would be a good idea." He turned back to look at Uncle Tyrion, "Well Tyrion, what do you think?"

Uncle Tyrion was smiling widely, "I think that would be an excellent idea! Though...perhaps as a page, first? You're still a little small to be a squire right now," he finished with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

Tommen looked a little startled at that and he stared down quickly at his body for a moment before giving Uncle Tyrion a sheepish look, "I think you're right Uncle...I forgot how young I've become..." he raised his hands and looked at his small chubby childish hands, "I suppose page will have to do for now."

"So page to our dear Uncle Kevan, then squire and then knight, yes?" Uncle Tyrion suggested with sage nods.

Tommen listened and the old Tommen seemed to be reappearing now, he smiled his old happy smile, "Ser Tommen Waters, sounds good."

Uncle Tyrion nodded and clapped his hands together, "Ser Tommen Waters it is! Listen well to Uncle Kevan and you'll be a good and honorable knight in no time! Our Uncle has always been a good knight! There's a reason the Westerlands don't have any bandits left!" he complimented Uncle Kevan.

Tommen gave them a small satisfied smile.

And Myrcella smiled at seeing Tommen smiling again, "A knight in shining armour to protect the people," she added happily.

Tommen's small grew bigger at that thought.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The rest of the day had passed as a blur for her after the meeting with Uncle Tyrion. Tommen's mood had been lifted greatly as he started his service to Great Uncle Kevan, but now it was almost time for dinner. Tommen would eat with Uncle Kevan, and the rest of uncle's family.

She, on the other hand, had dragged father from the training yard and would drag Uncle Tyrion to dinner, whether he wanted to or not. He was working much too hard. It couldn't be healthy for him to be so overworked.

Uncle needed to take better care of himself- which was why she was going to insist on him joining her and father for dinner tonight. A little time with with family, in the quiet, and some rest before anything else happened. It would do him a world of good.

She treasured her time with father and uncle Tyrion, before mother had gone out of her way to keep them both away from her.

As she approached Uncle's solar, she saw a beautiful maid entering with a tray of food and wine.

She recognized the maid and sighed in disappointment. Despite mother, she knew her uncle's habits and her time in Dorne had educated her more than mother would have ever wanted...not that she hadn't understood what her uncle was usually up to with the pretty maids. Her uncle was probably going to busy for a while, if not the rest of the night.

No family dinner tonight then...maybe tomorrow?

She turned around and left him to his debauchery. Father was probably already waiting for her now.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Tyrion Lannister

As soon as the children were gone, Kevan turned to Tyrion with a disquieted expression on his face, "You're not seriously going let him be a Waters?" he questioned urgently. "Tommen is a good lad, with proper guidance, he'd be a credit to House Lannister, even with the truth of his birth."

Tyrion looked at his uncle and snorted, "Of course not. He will be Ser Tommen Lannister...give it time and I'll changed his mind. For now just humor the boy, uncle." Tyrion took back his seat behind his desk and sat back thoughtfully. "I cannot imagine what it was like to decide to take one's own life after what happened with Cersei...we'll have to keep a close eye on him for the time being...as if there wasn't enough for us to do."

Kevan scowled at the mention of Cersei, but he quickly shook it off. Moving on, he took a seat opposite Tyrion, and gave him a long look, "It's to be expected. A war is coming. Wars are complicated."

Tyrion snorted, he replied dryly, "You don't say, uncle! I am well aware of how complicated things are...much more than you are."

Kevan's lips thinned, "You have told me all that is coming," he retorted in a deadpan.

"Hearing everything is different from living it," Tyrion stated evenly, "To actually see the reality of it is something else. Be it dragons or the army of the dead or the Children of the Forest."

Kevan looked nonplussed, before shaking his head, "It is a time of legends we find ourselves living in now..."

"A second Age of Heroes, uncle," Tyrion replied gravely and quickly, "I only hope that this time, history does not find us lacking."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Time flew by and Tyrion's stomach was begging to rumble. Kevan had left earlier to see to his duties, leaving him to the paperwork that came with being the Lord of Casterly Rock. The days were shorter than he remembered, and there was always so much to do as the new Lord of Casterly Rock. The meeting with the children had been a good diversion, but he had important things he need to sort out.

First and foremost, the ongoing mining of dragonglass in Casterly Rock. All other mining had been stopped. Within six months, he intended for every Redcloak to be armed with a dragonglass sword and daggers. There were other sources of dragonglass in Westeros, Dragonstone and the Last Heath, most notably- and both were in uncertain hands for the moment. So, for the moment, it fell to them to mine enough to arm all the people of Westeros.

The door to his solar opened and closed with quiet efficiency. The soft footsteps of a maid reached his ears. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasted boar, assailed his nose next.

His mouth started to water but he pushed it away, he would finish going through the pile of reports in front of him first before he ate.

"Just put it down...somewhere. You can go, if I want anything else, I'll send for it," Tyrion said without looking up from the scroll he was reading. More reports of movements of men along their borders with the Reach and the Riverlands. He put the scroll aside and picked up the next one.

"What if there's something I want?" the servant retorted angrily with a strangely familiar foreign voice.

Tyrion looked up sharply, intending to reprimand the servant, but his normally glib mind ground to a sudden and painful halt as he looked up. He knew why her voice sounded so familiar. He gaped up at the servant as he recognized her.

"Shae?" he breathlessly asked in disbelief.

The look of fury she gave him startled and scared him. He registered what she had said and along with the look in her eyes- it left no question as to whether or not she remembered him...or remembered what happened at the end.

"...Shae..." he repeated in disbelief.

"Yes...my lion?" she spat venomously.

Oh Gods! The sheer weight of his guilt threatened to drown him as the horrible night in the Red Keep came back to him. The frenzied, panicked struggle from that night as she went to for a knife and instincts he hadn't known he'd had came into play. He was frozen now, looking at her. The greatest of his regrets come back to haunt and taunt him. It had never occurred to him to search for her after the spell. What did she want? Why didn't she stay away? What could one say after...after what he did?

Slowly, he stood up, coming out from behind his desk. She didn't say anything, she just continued to glare. For a long minute they stared at each other. Words escaped him and whatever she was feeling, she didn't look she was in the mood to share it.

Tyrion gulped, finally finding his voice, "...I'm...sorry..."

"That's all you have to say to your whore?" she sneered angrily as she took a step towards him.

He flinched at her words, the word whore making his teeth hurt, father had called her that...

"I..." he stopped, he didn't have the proper words.

"I? I, what? I'm sorry I scorned, you? I'm sorry that I hurt, you? I'm sorry I murdered, you?" she cried out bitterly. Her eyes danced with fire and with each word, she took a step closer to him.

Each of her words held such weight. Each one as heavy as a mace head. Each a blow with such tremendous power. He listened silently- he couldn't do anything else. His tongue was leaden and heavy, there wasn't a right thing to say here. No matter how smart he was, there just wasn't anything he could say to her. Not after all that happened before.

There was fury on her face as she suddenly closed the distance between them.

Too late, he saw the dagger in her hand...

He tried to raise his hands up to ward off the dagger, but...he wasn't quick enough.