AN:
You guys deserve this chapter and like before.
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.
...
( Gerion Lannister POV )
Gerion Lannister walked the streets of Lannisport with an easy strut as if he owned the whole place. He didn't of course, that was his brother's claim, but it was a good feeling nonetheless.
A Lannister in Lannisport was as safe as a Lannister in the Rock, for the shadow of that mountain castle sat heavy, looming over the city in ceaseless vigilance. It was poetic, men said it looked like a lion at repose, but in Gerion's opinion, it was more like a big fluffy guard dog.
He rather liked dogs. They were certainly better than his Father's Lions that to his knowledge were still being kept somewhere deep inside the Rock. Those big louts were miserable in their tiny cages, grumpy and mean, he didn't have much love for them.
'Much like Tywin' Gerion chuckled to himself as he made his way towards a meeting with that very same brother. He had been out hunting on the Fair Isle when the raven from Casterly Rock arrived at Faircastle, summoning him home for some purpose or another at Tywin's behest. Personally, he hadn't even known Tywin was back at the rock, as the man spent near-all his time in King's Landing as hand.
It was only once he returned to Lannisport that he heard the news about his nephew's betrothal. Young Callum was to marry a Dornish princess, a fine arrangement for a second son, but then Tywin was no ordinary lord. Still, the announcement put him in a merry mood as he strolled up to the Lion Gate. He could only imagine the decades of teasing about Dornish women he'd get out of the far too intense boy.
"Ser Gerion." The guard at the gate, Rob, if he recalled right, greeted him with a wave. "Welcome back milord."
"Good to be back." Gerion nodded to the man. "Anything happen since I've been gone?"
"I'd hardly know Ser, I only watch the gate."
"Nonsense, everyone comes through the gate." Gerion chuckled, "That means you know everyone."
"Not those Dorneish folk, they used the Seagate." The man paused. "I heard there was two princesses, I've never seen a princess before."
"Well it seems one of them will be marrying my nephew, so you may well in time."
"That's true, that is." The guard nodded. "Heralds were shouting the news across Lannisport this morning, good for little Lord Callum I say."
Gerion declined to correct the man on his nephew's likely actual title and just nodded. "Yes, good for him indeed, now I won't take any more of your time."
"Never a bother with you Ser Gerion." The knight nodded and Gerion chuckled, waving off the compliment as he entered once more his ancestral home… and immediately came face to face with a grand, highly decorated but nonetheless imposing staircase.
Gerion sighed.
There was a reason he chose to live in Lannisport.
After one very long trek up to the top of the rock, Gerion was standing in front of his father's study, looking up at the door with a frown.
Tytos had been dead more than ten years now, it was Tywin's study now, but every time he stood before the door he expected somehow to find his father's warm laughter, not his brother's quiet scorn.
"Waiting to be invited in Gerion?"
Gerion whirled around as someone spoke behind him, only for a smile to light up his face.
"Tygett!" he cried, laughing and embracing his brother. "How are you, you grumpy cat? What are you doing back in Casterly Rock?"
The youngest of his three older brothers rolled his eyes but patted Gerion on the back as he begrudgingly returned his embrace. "Summoned by Tywin, Same as you, I suspect," Tygett grumbled, though his smile did shine through. "Though I've been here a few days already. Did you know our Nephew Jaime is wicked with a sword? Reminds me of myself at that age."
"Reminds you of yourself in the war of the Ninepenny kings?" Gerion asked, raising an eyebrow. He could barely remember when, as a child, every man older than himself in the household had gone off to fight the Band of Nine and Maelys the Monstrous in the Stepstones.
"You know what I mean Gerion." Tygett groused. "He's not yet blooded, still green on his blade, but he's as skilled as I was at that age, better maybe." the man nodded. "I suspect in a few years we'll be hearing about him as one of the bravest knights in the realm. Well, if he lives that long."
"That's a cruel thing to say about our nephew Tygett," Gerion said, slightly taken aback.
"True though, young knights die often, whether they're talented or not. No amount of talent makes you immortal, not unless your name is Barristan Selmy." Tygett grumbled. "But enough about this, now that you're here maybe our lord brother and Kevan will finally be willing to tell me what scheme they've cooked up for us."
"They haven't told you yet?" Gerion had been hoping that Tygett might know a bit more. Tywin was quite tight-lipped in his letter.
"No, it's just like it always is with him. Do what I say and don't ask why." Tygett grumbled. "Still, I think he'll tell us now." the slightly taller man said, marching ahead into Tywin's study.
Gerion followed him of course.
The study hadn't really changed much at all since they'd been children, playing on the floor while their father wrote letters and such. Gerion remembered it had frequently been a place of laughter and fun, though somehow he imagined that under his brother's reign, it would be much more dreary, all grumpy frowns and incomes and expenditures.
Much to his surprise, that wasn't the case, at least today, instead the study was fairly alive with movement. First and foremost, all of Tywin's children were there, even his youngest Tyrion, the twisted and ugly toddler, who was sitting off to the side in a sort of pen made by a pair of chairs lying flat. Kevan was there too, with his wife by his side chatting quietly.
Likewise, young Jaime and Cersei, looking so alike they might be mistaken for each other if not for their clothes, were off whispering to one side, while a waifish young boy he assumed must be Callum stood close to Tywin's desk, his hand on his chin as he gazed down at whatever paper was there. Genna was greeting Tygett, and now turning her eyes towards him, a genial smile on her face.
And of course, there behind the desk was Tywin, his expression for once not so dark and brooding as he surveyed the room with what Gerion might call a small sense of satisfaction, though the man pointedly avoided looking in the direction of his youngest son. Still, it gave the impression that they were actually a family, and Tywin's long shadow didn't seem as dark as usual.
"Gerion!" Genna greeted him, rushing over to hug him, and Gerion could only greet his sister with a smile. "How have you been? I do hope your hunting on Fair Isle went well."
Gerion put on a winning smile as he returned her hug. "Of course it did, why I'm well known as the best Hunter in all of Westeros." he chuckled at his own joke. "Three dear, six hares, and a wolf I bagged, the skins and antlers are all down with my things in Lannisport." He paused for a moment, "Ah, and Lord Farman was very courteous as well, a good host the whole time."
"Lord Farman?" Gerion glanced over as his niece Cersei spoke up, her green eyes intelligent and quick. "His daughter's my bedmaid Jeyne, she'll be happy to hear he's doing well." the girl explained quickly.
"He's a cheerful fellow, and as a cheerful fellow myself, I get along well with him," Gerion confirmed for the girl, before turning his gaze to his two yet ungreeted brothers. "Tywin, Kevan, it's good to see you both as well."
"Gerion." Tywin nodded shortly, but not in an especially hostile manner, while Kevan gave him a warm smile. Tywin simply continued as he was wont to do. "Now that you're here as well, we can begin properly. Shut the door if you would."
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