Hugh Hammer (ASOIF/SI)

 He sipped at his wine, enjoying its taste and the atmosphere of the

 Great Hall, the wash of conversation and the odd burst of laughter.

 Despite his somewhat dour reputation he liked these affairs, not for

 their own sake, but for the ability to spot alliances and alignments in

 the patterns of who talked to whom.

 And he had an ulterior motive also, he wanted to peruse of the high

born female flesh available and see if any of them fit the bill for his

 purposes. The problem was that with the recent events and with this

 marriage and the upcoming nuptials of Lord Addam Velaryon, the

 formerly abundant supply of nubile daughters eager to be wed

 appeared to have dried up rather suddenly. A shame that, but not

 unexpected he supposed, but there were still a few likely candidates

 available for him to pick from.

 The elder Lannister girl was out for a start, even if her nocturnal

 escapades remained secret for now he could not risk them being

 used against him in the future. There were a handful of other

 candidates still in the Red Keep, among them the Bolton lass, but

 she looked and acted as sharp as the legendary flaying knives of her

 House, so she was out. Of the remainder none really caught his

 fancy one way or the other, and he was forced to admit that only the

 Baratheon girls held his interest.

 And the problem he had was that the one that held his interest the

 most was currently sitting a few seats away from him, beside her

 husband, the new Lord Regent, Prince Hugh Targaryen. For young

 Floris was the sweetest peach he had ever seen, and he had lusted

 after her from the moment he had set eyes on her.

 But alas, she was not available to him, and despite his desires he

 was not about to jeopardise everything for some cunny, no matter

 how delectable it might be. Knightly fools might, and they would

 destroy everything including themselves in the process, but he would

not. Oh, if he really wanted to he could no doubt destroy Prince

 Hugh and remove him from the equation, leaving him to swoop in

 and collect dear Floris. But that would be the height of stupidity and

 folly, and he was not about to go down that path.

 So instead, he put his dreams of sweet Floris, no matter how

 appealing, away, and instead concentrated on which of her sisters

 he would choose. The elder one Cassandra or the younger one

 Ellyn, both had much to recommend, both being tall and winsome

 young lasses, with Baratheon dark hair and blue eyes. From what he

 had observed of them the elder one was more… wilful and perhaps

 less willing to listen to sense, if her actions and amateurish plotting

 was anything to go by.

 Ellyn Baratheon, she of the substantial teats and an equal desire to

 display them, though a rather frivolous and silly girl to his mind, was

 at least possessed of sufficient brains, or lack of brains, to engage in

 any of the idiocy that Cassandra indulged in.

 The girl herself was good looking enough, and her teats were a

 delight to behold it had to be said, yes he had made his decision, he

 would approach Lady Ellyn tomorrow with his intentions.

 "You look pleased with yourself Strong" came the slightly garbled

 whisper from the Hand of the King, Ser Tyland Lannister.

 "And why would I not be pleased Ser Tyland? Am I not enjoying a

 fine old time at a royal wedding?"

 "You don't fool me for a second," came the reply, with neither malice

 nor joviality evident in Ser Tyland's voice, just the level inflection of

 someone who was stating the obvious.

 "We have retained our favoured positions on the Small Council, the

 realm is finally, truly at peace, and our enemies are no more. What

 more could a man want my dear Tyland?"

"Well, you want a bride for a start, and you are not best pleased that

 the one you want has just been taken…."

 "Her sisters are attractive enough, either one will do for my

 purposes."

 "You must think me a fool Strong, the elder sister would be a disaster

 as a wife, the younger one would stray the moment a handsome

 knight beckoned."

 "We are all not as hideous as you Tyland, some women might

 actually find me attractive enough…." He could say such things,

 even in jest, as he and the Lannister Lord were friends of long

 standing. Though even he had been horrified by what Daemon's

 torturers had done to his friend, whose life had been not the happiest

 of ones by any stretch of the imagination. He had lost two wives to

 childbirth, along with the bairns themselves, and he had no heirs of

 his body, and he was now unable to have children thanks to what

 had been done to him.

 "A low blow Strong, and I would not be so sure as to your

 attractiveness as a potential husband either."

 "I have extensive lands, and great castle, a seat on the Small

 Council, even the dumbest of chits can see that?"

 "I fear that your, affliction has, despite being nowhere near your

 eyes, blinded you to the realities of life my dear Master of Whispers.

 You would have been better off marrying that pale whore who

 captured and housed you."

 "Alas, the dear Lady Misery, she was scarcely of any station to marry

 a Lord."

 "She kept you alive and hidden in the bloody Red Keep! There is that

 to recommend her!" the Hand of the King chuckled in that rather off

putting way of his.

He did not like to be reminded of this matter, and he wondered if Ser

 Tyland was bringing this up for a particular reason. Probably

 because the whore had slipped away before he had a chance to kill

 her, and he had no idea where she was. Hopefully fled across the

 narrow sea and away from Kings Landing, but his agents had been

 absolutely unable to find a trace of the Lyseni bitch anywhere.

 "You do not consider my niece, the lovely Lady Tyshara as a

 candidate for your hand?"

 And there it was, as he had suspected all along, and it took Tyland

 this long to bring that subject up. That they were something of

 friends and that they respected each other in a professional way, did

 not mean that the game would ever cease to be played, even

 between them.

 "We are both aware why your niece might be less than suitable….."

 "We are both aware that few, if any are aware of that unfortunate

 incident, and that fewer still know the truth of the matter."

 "I would rather not have this hanging over me, if you do not mind…."

 "There are three other Lannister daughters, a tad on the young side I

 will admit, but the eldest Lylian should flower soon enough. Given

 the state of the roads and the likely fact that winter will be upon us

 for several more years, it would be a long betrothal Strong."

 "Which I might not survive…." He replied with no irony.

 "Well, not from the hands of House Lannister anyway, so long as you

 agree to this."

 "What do you want Tyland, really?"

 "I could give you a flippant reply like the one you gave me earlier on,

 but I'll spare you. House Lannister is wounded by this war, our

 securing of a dragon via Lord Addam is only a temporary measure.

We need the beast and its rider to be committed to destroying the

 Ironborn threat, I will assume that you will give us your support in the

 Small Council in this matter."

 He did not reply, not needing to, Tyland knew him well enough by

 now to gauge his moods and something of his mind.

 "Once the Ironborn are dealt with Lord Addam will no doubt return to

 Driftmark to rule, along with his pretty Lannister wife."

 At this he cast his gaze to where the lad and his intended were

 seated, the Lannister chit would eat him alive, of that he was certain,

 and he would not give a copper star for the chances of that blonde

 bitch straying from her husband's bed at the first opportunity she got.

 "Get to the point Tyland, you are starting to bore me."

 "Lady Tyshara is still a highly eligible young Lady, and we feel that

 she still has considerable worth to House Lannister, and that any

 mention of her youthful indiscretions should be dealt with swiftly and,

 well, thoroughly…."

 "I see," he replied, "and if I were wed into House Lannister you feel I

 would be more, proactive in dealing with any of these potential

 threats?"

 "Your legendary insights have not deserted you yet Larys," quipped

 Ser Tyland, the smirk on his face obvious, even if it was invisible

 behind his veil.

 "Young Lylian would of course come with a substantial dowry, a very

 substantial dowry, more than enough to fulfil your fathers dream of

 knocking Harenhal to the ground and using its stone to build a new

 seat a few leagues to the south, what your father Lord Lyonel

 wanted to call Stronghall."

 "It is an attractive offer, it has to be said, but why do you think I would

 accept it in the first place?"

"Ah, well now, that is the rub, is it not my dear Master of Whispers,

 for you are not the only one who can hear the whispers in this place,

 and there are many whispers spoken of you and your actions. Some

 of which might not be looked upon with any great favour by our new

 Lord Regent, for example."

 "You have nothing Tyland, otherwise I would be dead by now…"

 "Do we, have nothing I mean? The beauty is you cannot be sure my

 dear Larys, who knows what secrets that pale whore of yours might

 have ferreted away for safe keeping eh?"

 He shrugged his shoulders internally, it was what it was, just another

 travail along the road of one's life, he would continue to do business

 with the Lord Hand as normal, he was a capable and competent

 holder of the office. But he would not be averse to using anything

 that came his way to see Ser Tyland removed from office.

 "Oh, and you can stop plotting Larys, I don't want to be Hand for

 ever, a few years at most, certainly not beyond the span of the

 Regency of Prince Hugh. I intend to return to the Westerlands, for I

 have a debt to be paid to that cunt who calls herself my brothers'

 wife. And you know what they say about Lannisters and their debts?"

 "Indeed, and yet you champion the cause of her daughters?"

 "They are not guilty for their mother's sins, and are blood kin, no

 matter what," came the hissed response from Tyland Lannister. "And

 once that whore is dealt with I intend to live out my days peacefully,

 I've had enough of the Red Keep and the Targaryen's to last for a

 dozen lifetimes. In the meantime, I am sure we can continue working

 together, I will not oppose you and you will not oppose me, we will be

 family after all…."

 "I may seek the Handship once the Regency is over, could I count on

 House Lannister's support in that endeavour?"

"Of course, but would not our young,vigorous and Valyrian steel

 wielding Lord Regent not be a shoe in for that role?"

 "Not if I can help it," he replied softly, again noticing a smile twist the

 hideously scarred face of Ser Tyland Lannister under his veil.