It was a private gathering inside Hayford Castle. The Great Hall, while far smaller than most other castles, was set up with two long tables, and one long table perpendicularly reserved for Tywin, Olenna, and the likes of Mace. The only Tyrells missing were Loras, Margaery, and her newborn son.
The night had arrived, and King Robert had given them only until dawn to respond. And for that same reason, they had all gathered to dine and discuss. There was music, there was wine, and fine dining.
"We mustn't continue this siege. We mustn't go against King Robert." Mace Tyrell announced shocking everyone as he refused to drink wine. His face was pale and his already almost bald head seemed to have lost more hair. "He's a monster!"
Tywin sipped some wine and coldly responded. "He killed my brother. There can be no truce anymore."
"You cannot fathom what I witnessed, Lord Tywin," Mace said, his voice trembling slightly as he looked to his mother for support. "I was at the Iron Bank, standing there as that man wreaked havoc. The Sealord himself had to bow before him. He told me of Robert's actions in Essos—how he destroyed the Golden Company and killed three dragons. And that Targaryen girl... He took her life as well. There were no survivors, only corpses in that hall, with him standing victorious. We can't win against such power."
Tywin sneered at that over-exaggeration. "You expect me to believe that one man could stand against tens of thousands? Ridiculous."
Mace just shook his head. He rarely stood against Tywin so directly. "No, we must give Margaery and the babe to him, and pray he shows mercy."
With that, Tywin looked at the real decision-maker of House Tyrell, Lady Olenna. "Robert's return means little. We have an army of over a hundred thousand men ready for war."
"It changes everything, Lord Tywin," Olenna replied. "We had justification before. To give my great-grandson his birthright as Robert's heir. And dethrone Stannis as the throne stealer. But with Robert's return, we have no reason—he's the rightful King, and Margaery is his Queen-to-be."
Tywin's eyes grew colder with each passing moment. "Robert's fury is well known. He won't forgive you a second time."
The first time was during the previous rebellion when House Tyrell supported the Targaryens and laid a siege on Storm's End.
Olenna sighed and looked at her son. "True, but I suppose we can reach a compromise. House Tyrell has a lot more to give to the throne than just Margaery. Gold, grains, gifts—there's plenty."
"Is that to be interpreted as House Tyrell's withdrawal from the siege?" Tywin asked.
"We've no cause, nor any advantage to be had, Lord Tywin. You'd be right to think as much." Olenna made up her mind. She didn't need Mace's warnings to decide that. Robert's return alone was enough. "Robert's return has made my mind clear enough. Do what you must, but gold will not substitute for the throne's power, I'm afraid. If you wish to ensure House Lannister's future, it would be wise to follow suit."
Creak!
With a sudden motion, Tywin rose from his chair. "I'll be the judge of that. The Ironborn won't just quit silently."
Sighing, Olenna nodded and drank the wine, letting Tywin leave. She'd already made up her mind. The Redwyne fleet was formidable, and it was blockading Blackwater Bay with the Ironborn. She only had to give a secret order to attack the Ironborn fleet.
"Mother, thank you for believing in me." Mace heaved a sigh of relief.
Olenna just smiled. She didn't really believe him. But it was best he believed that.
"Finish your meal. We'll be off to King's Landing shortly. No need to keep the King waiting. Margaery's given him his first trueborn son—he'll be eager to lay eyes on the little one."
About that, Mace agreed. "After what Cersei did to him, I can imagine that."
Shhhh~
"FIRE!"
Right then, someone at the far end of the tables shouted. All eyes shifted towards the curtains hanging from the walls, mere decorations. But they were catching fire rapidly.
"WATER! Bring water!"
Men of House Tyrell, its vassals, and Lannister's vassals ran around to quench the fire. But as if the fire itself was magic, the other curtains caught flames and rapidly burned. Once a few embers landed on the decorative floor carpets, they also caught fire.
"It's locked!" Mace cried when he tried to lead his mother and the rest out of the hall.
With a frown, Olenna looked back at the hall. It was small and made of stone. It was burning unreasonably fast. The curtains, the carpets, and now the tables. The fire spread so fast that men were already burning and writhing around. It couldn't be natural.
"To think he'd still have some sanity left." Olenna depressingly muttered, staring at the spreading fire. "House Lannister will be history after this… Tywin has gone mad."
"Mother! All the doors are locked!" Mace cried in fear. "What do we do?"
"There's nothing to be done, Mace. Tywin had this all planned from the start. His only thought now is revenge—he's gone mad with it," Olenna said, the heat of the flames drawing nearer. "And in the end, it was fire that took us."
"MOTHER! Agh!" Mace fell first, trying to protect his mother.
Disappointment flashed in Olenna's mind, but not despair.
Robert's no longer a fool. He'll know what Tywin did.
"Forgive me, Margaery, your grandmother must have gotten too old to not foresee this."
####
"Won't they point fingers at us?" Asked Ser Jaime, mounted upon his horse, watching the burning castle from a distance.
Tywin, also on a horse, shook his head. "That is why a few Lords and Knights of Westerlands were left inside."
"That's…"
"A sacrifice I'm willing to make." Tywin completed, though aware of his words' absurdity. "Go and inform Loras of this, and blame Robert. Claim that he used Wildfire."
"What about Margaery?"
Tywin scoffed and turned his horse around as the castle crumbled. "The longer we keep her, the more frenzied Robert will be. A frenzied bull is easily slain, far easier than a calm one."
####
That night was particularly calm in the Red Keep. And Robert, while not much bothered by the coming battle, eyed the slender, golden-haired girl before him. He matched her emerald eyes and frowned at her smiling full lips.
What do I do with her now?
Of all places, he was in his bedchamber where Myrcella had decided to visit him with the excuse of discussing something gravely important. She claimed it was life-threatening. She was right, but not in the way Robert had imagined.
"So you're here to threaten me? If I don't bed you, you'll end yourself?"
Honestly, even after combining the experiences of his two lives, and the current third one, Robert hadn't ever met someone like Myrcella. While she wasn't insane like Cersei, she came close when it came to absurd desires.
"What's there left for me if not that?" Myrcella replied proudly, and rather provocatively. Her choice of clothing was skimpy in his eyes. It was a single piece of golden, sleeveless gown, thin, fine, silky, with a neckline so deep that the middle of her chest was visible. It revealed her long neck, her shoulder bones, and those little rare moles. Embroidered with golden threads, the gown curved softly around her long waist, spreading over her supple, toned hips and falling down. Too much of her skin on display.
And with her declarations, and her choice of words, Robert found it hard to stop his loins from reacting. It was in his nature, sadly. And it didn't help that he truly didn't see her as he did Sansa. There was no shared blood, nor any relationship.
But that also begged the question. Why did she want him?
Robert sighed and moved over to sit down on the edge of the bed. He wanted to rest, but there he was, discussing insanity. "Go on then, spill it. I'll hear you out—Why? What madness has gripped you? I'm a man twice your age. A man you shouldn't even be thinking of in those ways."
Myrcella shook her head, her delicate, long fingers danced on her gown, gathering it in a tight fist. "I didn't, at first… Your Grace. But that night—you caught me with Sansa. The way you looked at me… I felt it. I liked it. The weight of your gaze on me… stirred something I've not been able to quiet since. I didn't plan for any of this, truly, but I ache for your attention now. I think of you at night… Imagining you laying above me, gripping my legs up and spreading me as you give me what I seek—one heavy thrust at a time..."
"Don't… need to be that detailed." Robert shifted his legs a bit to hold back his hardness. "I looked at you that night because I couldn't look at Sansa. She's Ned's daughter, Seven Hells! She's like a daughter to me."
But his words had the opposite reaction on Myrcella. Her bright, beautiful face beamed up and she quickly got closer to Robert, finally standing a mere arm's length away from his seated figure. "Yes… that means I'm not like Sansa to you. Then… So… you wouldn't mind having me, would you?"
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