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It is evening, just past the time that most of the nobility has retired following their evening meal.
It is quiet in the courtyard of the Lannister Manse, though sounds can be heard emanating from within. The courtyard itself is almost empty, save for one man. He is dressed as a gardener, and carries the tools of one—yet there can be no doubt that his physical features are those of a Lannister of Casterly Rock.
Jannia is walking full guard down Manse row, her white gown has been changed out of and now she wears a simple gown of green. She eyes the man gardening in the Lannister gardens, and smiles lightly when she recognizes his form.
Quietly though she waves her guards and septa on, keeping her ever present maid near by. They are but a few houses from the Tully manse after all. “My lord of Lannister.” Jannia says quietly, though still with a light enough smile.
The Lannister heir puts the trowel into the ground and rises to his feet. “Ah, Lady Jannia. Welcome,” he says with a smile and a bow of his head. “I am glad that you have come.” It is unexpected for a man of Jonn Lannister’s reputation to be seen tending his own garden, but it does appear that he knows what he is doing.
A curtsy from the Tully maiden when she recognizes //which// Lannister she speaks with. “Ser Jonn, a pleasure.” Jannia raises a brow a bit and looks about the garden appreciatively. “I had not known that you had a fondness for the gardens, and you do quite well, might I add. Though, I will admit there is a certain peace in it.”
Jannia nods gratefully, “I am glad you accepted to see me. I just wish it was on more pleasant matters.” she sighs lightly at the thought.
“Yes,” agrees the Black Lion, his words coming slowly. “That is why I am out here, in part. It is either here with my trowel and plants, or at the Traitor’s Tower—”
His green eyes catch fire, the golden flecks embedded in them sparking to life. “Jamming a knife into Ser Humfrey Westerling’s eye.”
A grin rises up on Jannia’s face. “Would you hold it against me if I said I would expect no less from you, Ser Jonn.”
She doesn’t chuckle but she does nod. “I suppose you know how I have felt for the past, oh, five or six moons. He was mad, dreadfully so. And like you, my Lady-Mother will be more than like furious. Except, Ser Jonn, I do not think she has a fondness for the gardens. She much prefers fires, would you not agree?” What amusement was there is now gone though at that admittance.
“So I have heard,” says Black Jonn of the lady’s mother.
He gestures towards a small stone table in the centre of the garden path and moves towards it himself. “I suspected that he was mad,” he says once he has taken a seat. “I also knew that he is… shall we say, a torch running short on tallow. I should have been more direct in my warnings about his behavior.”
“Indeed, as have many others,” Jannia notes his gesture and nods. Taking her seat she listens to what Jonn has to say.
“Yes, he had thought me bringing my Septa back was a way for myself, or the Tullys to say that they felt I was not safe with him. Even after I told him countless times that it was not the case. Dimwitted, or purely mad, either way, he has made quite a mess.”
Jannia nods to his last brushing a stray curly lock out of her face. “I do not think that being more direct would have helped at all. I had Ser Luthor speak to him, Ser Farin, and mine own brother and //still// not had changed. Do not blame yourself, please, besides sending him back home, which would have resulted in some form of vassal issue, there was nothing you could do for him. The only question now is, how do we fix it?”
For a moment, Jonn is silent.
Then he shakes his head slowly from side to side. “Neither of those three have the influence over Ser Humfrey that I do,” he says with regret. “He was one of my knights in Dorne. One day he shall flock to me when the banners are raised—”
“You are right,” he says, after a servant has brought a carafe of wine to the table and he has taken a deep drink from it. “How do we fix it? I do not think it will be easy. Your mother and my father do not like each other, but I think they are more similar than different.”
“Come now, Ser Jonn. When he wagged his tongue about Lady Reyna and Lady Serry, did you hold the blame for it all?” Jannia asks her question with a soft smile on her face. “I think not, I did. As it is my duty to make sure he is counseled properly, or so I was told countless times. Had I thought going to you would make any difference, it would have been done. Trust, this is not your fault, it is not mine either. It is no ones but his own.”
Jonn does proffer a small chuckle from her this time, as weak as a thing it was. “You are absolutely correct, they are both more common than they are different. Pride for house and family rules all. While that is all well and good, my lord, it does not for partnerships.” She smiles brightly with a bit of a chortle. “So how do you get two people along, when they are so much a like, hmm?”
“I told him to be kinder to those two,” the Lannister heir growls. “Ordered him, though not in so many words.”
He falls silent once more, his eyes flashing. “My first thought is beat him to death with my own two fists and rid Westeros of his foolishness, but that would likely only create a different set of problems.”
“Lord Loren does not dislike the Tullys, as such,” he admits, taking another sip of wine. “He sees you only as an impediment to his goals. The Westerlings, on the other hand… suffice it to say none of us would mind seeing Humfrey pay dearly for his behavior.”
“I had thought maybe, but it did not stop him from doing it, not entirely.” Jannia sighs lightly. “When I was getting missives from Lady Serry, who, in a lack of better words, told me to reign him in.” Jannia shakes her head. “It was, impossible.”
Jannia flicks her gaze to Jonn when he speaks next, seeing little hints of anger coming off his person. “Aye, a different set of problems indeed. Although the Westerlings have other sons, I do not think Lord Westerling would take kindly to that.”
Jannia smiles at Jonn’s assessment of his father. “That very well may be, though he cannot say that of all Tullys. My mother surely, but myself, not so much. Though I could be more of a help than a hinderance, but that is the problem is it not? Your father may not dislike us, but it sure does not trust us either. Nor would he wish to deal with my mother and her childish ways.”
Jannia shakes her head. “Sometimes, the past should be left where it is. She should know this, if anything the Brackens and the Blackwoods are a perfect example of what old grudges can do to houses.”
“It is not so simple,” says Black Jonn with a shake of his head. “When war is involved. A knight will always hold on to his defeats longer than his victories. That is at the root of it, I am certain. But you are right.”
“We need to find a way around that.”
A nod as a look of understanding crosses Jannia’s face. “You are quite right, my lord. If you are defeated, that undoubtably means that either yourself, or someone else had done something wrong. Pour yourself over every step searching for what went wrong. Defeats are held quite closely as victories are fleeting. I am quite sure I read that somewhere.” Jannia ponders that for a moment before dismissing the thought. “Indeed we do. Riverrun perhaps?” Jannia lifts a brow in Jonn’s direction. “That is, if you wish to chance it?”
“I will have to think about that,” says the Lannister heir with the ghost of a smile. “My Lord father trusts me to conduct affairs here in his absence, but I am certain he will be sending me a raven about Ser Humfrey soon enough. I will need to consider his counsel first.”
Jannia nods, “Agreed. Though, that begs the question. What should I do in the mean time that can serve to help? Trust, I do love my brother, he is an extremely loyal man, with a good heart as well. He is just…” Jannia wrinkles up her nose trying to think of the proper word to call him. “Well to be honest, he is simple, and far from political. He trusts that my sisters and I will be able to help him with political things of court.”
Jannia blushes lightly having to admit that. “As I am here with you, and am going to be helping as much as I can, I had thought it wise myself to ask for your counsel. I do not wish to be in your way with this.”
“I will deal with Ser Humfrey,” Jonn says almost immediately. “It would be best for you to stay away from him, and to say you have prayed to Mother to watch over him if asked. Advise your brother the same. Our King is not fond of duels, no matter how justified they might seem.”
A wince from Jannia when he asks her to pray for him. Though ruefully she nods, “I… will do as you say.” to the next bit Jannia has a look of uncertainty. “As to my brother, I will try my best. Perhaps if I speak to his wife, that would go a bit smoother. She has a way with him, the Seven blessed him, truly.”
“You do not actually have to pray for him,” the Lannister says with a laugh, noticing the wince that part of his advice evinces from the young lady of Riverrun. “Though in these times, it would never go amiss to -say- you are praying for someone, as loudly and often as possible.”
“Lady Sarya—” the name of the newest addition to the Tully clan redoubles his laughter. “Ser Sarmion once called her—well, I will not speak ill of your new good-sister. I am certain you will find out about her true nature in time.”
Jannia perks up and looks to Jonn with a bit of amusement when he speaks on Sarya. “Come now, she isn’t all that bad. Though if Ser Sarmion said it, I am not to sure if I want to hear it.” Jannia chuckles at that. “Whatever she does, she can keep him in line. I don’t care if she shoots lightning bolts out of her arse, so long as she keeps Brynden at bay.”
Jannia laughs and rises. “I should go before my Septa and guards worry. Though if ever you need my assistance, my lord, do not hesitate to call on me.” She curtsies to Jonn, and waits for any further instructions and courtesies, since there are none, Jannia leaves with her maid down to the Tully Manse.
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