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RED KEEP – THE HAND'S SOLAR – NIGHT
Candlelight flickered along the stone walls of Tywin Lannister's chamber. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the crimson and gold tapestries of House Lannister. A map of Westeros lay stretched across his table, markers and figures aligned around KingsLanding, the Reach, and the Riverlands but too few remained near the capital.
Tywin stood rigid behind the table, his hands resting on its edges, jaw tight. Across from him, Jaime paced agitated, his hand tapping lightly against his side.
"You've not seen it, Father," Jaime said, his voice edged with frustration. "But I have. That beast of his, that dragon if you wanna call it that. It didn't flinch when it took a scorpion bolt. As a matter of fact I think it ate it if my eyes didn't decieve me that day.. It Didn't fall. Didn't slow. Just screamed and burned everything in its path."
Tywin did not look up. "A dragon is a weapon, like any other. And all weapons have their weaknesses."
Jaime gave a short, breathless laugh. "Gods, you're really saying that. A dragon… a weapon with wings the size of castles and fire that melts stone. Do you realize what you are saying father ?"
"The Targaryens had dragons for centuries and still lost everything in the end. What matters is not the flame, but the hand that wields it." Tywin finally looked up, cold and sharp-eyed. "Do not mistake spectacle for victory son."
"You call it spectacle," Jaime said, stepping closer, "but I saw our men die like ants under a magnifying glass. That army of his.. those shadows whatever they are, they don't seem to have a soul. I've talked with uncle and he told me what he saw. And then there's him. This Monarch... Do you even know what he is, the way he talked to me, the weird sensation I got from him? It felt like death. He kept me alive just to prove a point."
Tywin's gaze turned back to the map. "I know he bleeds. That's enough."
Jaime exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head. "It's strange that I'm the smart one in the room now. Yet I don't feel any sort of satisfaction."
Tywin's eyes flickered with the faintest hint of irritation. "You are not being clever, you are being afraid. Fear makes cowards of the best men. What you saw was power, but power unchecked breeds arrogance. And arrogance... can be led into ruin."
"Isn't that what you are doing now? Is pride blinding you father ? and your grand plan?" Jaime scoffed. "Bandits and butchers committing crimes and claiming to be 'heralds' of this Shadow Monarch, killing peasants in villages no one remembers? You think that will turn the realm against him? That's your play?"
Tywin straightened, his hands folding neatly behind his back. "There are no victories without sacrifices. The people need a story to believe. Fear makes tyrants. But fear also makes martyrs. I will decide which he becomes."
Jaime stepped in front of him, blocking the exit. "It's not enough, Father. With all due respect. It's been three days. And he already made an ultimatum. No raven. No reply. You say you'll ride for Casterly Rock now, but maybe… maybe you're just running."
Tywin halted mid-step, his boots stopping hard against the stone. For a long breath, he said nothing. Then slowly, he turned. His face was carved from stone, but his voice carried iron.
"Choose your words carefully, Kingsguard… or son, if you still call yourself that. I have sacrificed more than you could imagine for this house. You speak of running, but you, you should abandon that white cloak and return to where you belong. The family needs heirs, not honorable idiots, you are starting to sound like that Stark fool. There's no place for sentiment when the lions are surrounded by predators."
Jaime clenched his jaw, his hand curling into a fist. He didn't answer.
Tywin took a step past him then stopped. A sudden shiver rippled through the air. The fire in the hearth flickered unnaturally low, casting a cold light across the chamber. The temperature dropped, subtle at first then biting.
Both men turned instinctively.
Jaime's hand twitched,moving to the hilt of his sword. He didn't draw it but the motion was immediate, trained, survival-driven. His breath caught in his chest.
Tywin Lannister didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed to slits as he scanned the room. The air was colder than stone walls had any right to be in this city. The fire in the hearth dimmed to a low, whispering ember. Silence stretched like a wire between them.
And then… it moved.
From the floor where Jaime's own shadow stretched in the low firelight, something began to separate. The shape writhed, curling upward with an unnatural grace fluid like smoke, yet solid, growing with form and weight. It wasn't a man. It wasn't even human.
A panther-like beast emerged from the black. A shadow-cat, sleek and silent, made of living darkness. Its fangs were long and pale as moonlight, its eyes twin pinpricks of eerie violet glow. It walked forward, each step soundless on the stone, its tail flicking lazily behind it like a serpent ready to strike.
Jaime stumbled back half a step.
"Gods…" he muttered under his breath. "It's definitely him, one of his shadows…"
Tywin remained still, but there was a shift in his posture. A stiffness. A silent, calculating tension behind his eyes.
The shadow-cat turned its head slowly, locking eyes with Tywin. It bared its fangs and growled.
Not the growl of a creature hungry for meat. It was a warning. A promise.
Then it dispersed, collapsing into itself with a hiss of mist black smoke trailing upward like ash on the wind.
From the smoke stepped a figure.
Clad in black, trimmed in faintly shimmering threads of violet. A cloak flowed behind him like torn shadow. His face was pale and noble, features carved from battles and wisdom but it was his eyes that commanded the room. Twin amethysts lit from within, burning and Unnatural.
Aeron Grim.
The Shadow Monarch.
He stepped forward slowly, and with every footfall the torches on the walls guttered low, dimming, retreating from his presence like servants shying from their master. His gaze swept across the room first to Jaime, then to Tywin, holding the old lion's eyes without a blink.
When he spoke, the air seemed to listen.
"Lannisters."
The word was cold. Not a greeting an accusation.
Jaime opened his mouth, closed it, then spoke low and with grudging awe. "You left something with me... didn't you?" He looked toward where the shadow had emerged. "You never really let me go."
Aeron's eyes did not leave Tywin. "I leave nothing to chance, I know you would meet your father sooner or later, it will save me the time to find his exact location."
Tywin said nothing for a long moment. But his jaw flexed once ever so slightly and his eyes, those sharp eyes that had stared down kings and broken men alike, showed something they never had before.
A flicker of fear.
Still, his voice was iron. "You've come to threaten me, then? Is that it?"
Aeron took another step forward, slow. "I have yet to decide, Lord Tywin… depends on your words in the next five minutes. I gave you ample time already to consider the reasonable option, yet I didn't get a clear answer."
The room dropped into stillness. Even the fire dared not crackle.
"I gave you three days," Aeron continued, voice smooth as velvet and cold as the grave. "Three days to yield. To bend the knee. To see the realm survive the storm I am holding at bay. Instead…" He glanced at Jaime. "You try to stir chaos. Spread lies. Send killers into the dark in hopes they might stain me with blood not of my making."
Tywin didn't move, but his fingers curled tightly behind his back. "A king who needs to silence true Lords with monsters is no king at all."
Aeron tilted his head, a faint smile touching his lips though his eyes did not change.
"A king..." he said softly, "And yet, you bent the knee to boys, bowed to madness, your once-great name will be spoken in hatred and sorrow by the very people you broke. Your house will be reduced to ashes after you're gone. Tell me, Lord of Casterly Rock...what throne did you ever sit on?"
Jaime stepped forward slightly, eyes flicking between them. "Father… maybe this isn't the fight we want."
"I needed no throne. I ruled those who sat on it." Tywin ignored Jaime and his voice was like steel drawn in the dark. "And when the world speaks of Lannister, it speaks of power. Long after your shadows vanish, my name will remain. Can your monsters leave behind bloodlines, boy."
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