Chapter 116: Greyjoy's Whereabouts!

Tywin's solar was richly adorned with tapestries and portraits of past Lords of Casterly Rock. Damian's gaze was briefly caught by one tapestry illustrating the Rain of Castermere.

But his attention quickly shifted as Tywin gestured for him to take a seat.

"What is your purpose for visiting, Lord Damian?" Tywin asked, cutting to the chase.

Damian repeated what he had told d Tyrion earlier.

"Fifty tons of refined iron, sixty tons of tin, and forty tons of lead is neither a small nor insignificant amount for Casterly Rock," Tywin noted.

To put it in perspective, fifty tons of iron could make about 1,200 sets of armour. Iron is a key resource used in many applications, while tin is used to create bronze when mixed with copper, and lead is widely used in construction and plumbing. Damian was aware of lead's toxicity, so he had instructed his men to avoid using it for plumbing, though he still sold it to others.

With that matter settled, Tywin asked, "What are your plans after this? Are you returning to the Iron Islands?"

"No, my next stop is Oldtown. I've always wanted to visit the Citadel," Damian replied. While he was indeed interested in the Citadel, it wasn't his primary reason for travelling south, but he had no need to share that with Tywin.

Tywin's expression remained neutral, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

"It's good to see new places while you're still young. When will you be leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Then I invite you to stay at Casterly Rock. As it's your first visit and many wish to meet you, we'll hold a small feast in your honour tonight," Lord Tywin said.

Damian saw no reason to decline and accepted the invitation.

Tywin then called the servants, to show Damian to the guest room so he could rest. 

As Damian departed, Kevan spoke up for the first time, "Do you really think he came here just to sell goods and sightsee, brother?"

Tywin's expression remained thoughtful. "That might be all he says, or maybe there's more at play. He could be using this journey as a cover, perhaps leaving the Iron Islands to lure any enemies into making trouble, so he can return and deal with them more decisively. It wise to not give dissenters any chance to make preparation." 

Suddenly Tywin asked, " What of the Greyjoys? Any news of them?"

"No news yet from any of the free cities. They most likely have gone to the den of pirates, the Basilisk Isles. We don't have anyone who can spy for us at that place." Kevan said.

. . .

A few minutes after Damian had settled into his guest room, the door opened quietly, revealing only two Solstark guards stationed outside. The door then closed by itself.

"What did you hear, Lily?" Damian asked, aware of the unseen presence.

Lily materialised and quickly perched on Damian's shoulder. She relayed what she had overheard.

Unfortunately, Tywin and Kevan hadn't discussed much of substance, but Lily had picked up one useful detail: the Greyjoys seemed to have taken refuge in the Basilisk Isles. It was a suitable location for the Ironborn, as Basilisk Isle was a lawless place, a pirate's den. 

Damian wondered why the Lannisters were so interested in the Greyjoy remnants. He suspected there were ulterior motives but chose not to focus on it.

Shortly after, Damian left his room and asked a servant to take him to Tyrion. The servant guided him straight to the Lannisters' library.

The library was much grander than those at Winterfell or Pyke. Damian found Tyrion perched on a small ladder, reaching for a book on the third shelf.

As Damian approached and called out Tyrion's name, the sudden sound nearly made the imp lose his balance on the ladder.

"Oh fuck, seven hells! Lord Damian, you startled me!" Tyrion exclaimed.

"I apologize," Damian said, stepping forward.

"How did it go?" Tyrion asked, brushing off the slight scare.

"It went well. Lord Tywin agreed to the deal and has sent your steward, Vylarr, to Lannisport to inspect the goods and negotiate the price with my men on the ship," Damian replied.

"Oh, there it is," Tyrion said as he looked at the top row of the shelf. He tried to reach out but even with the ladder, he fell short.

After tip-toeing, Damian reached up and took the book with the green cover from the top row, handing it to Tyrion.

"The Jade Compendium? This is quite a rare book. Here you go," Damian said, glancing at the cover with curiosity.

"Have you read it?" Tyrion asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Sadly, no. It's too rare," Damian replied.

"Good," Tyrion said with a smile. "It's for you. A gift."

"Really?" Damian asked, caught off guard by the unexpected generosity.

While they had travelled from Lannisport to Casterly Rock, Damian had spoken of his yearning to see the world—to visit distant lands like Yi Ti and Asshai. Tyrion, ever the sharp listener, had remembered those words. It seemed he had thought carefully about what kind of gift would suit a man with such a longing for the far-off and the unknown.

Tyrion had already come to think of Damian as a friend, even in their short time together. The reason was simple—Damian had shown no sign of disgust or pity upon meeting him, a rarity in Tyrion's world. That alone was enough for Tyrion to see something different in Damian and to choose a gift that suited him well.

For Tyrion Lannister, true friends were rare, and perhaps he had found a potential one in Damian Solstark.

"By the way, what did you come to find me?" Tyrion asked. 

"Oh, I was hoping you could give me a tour of famous places in Casterly Rock, if that is not much to ask."

"Of course not. I'm glad you asked me," Tyrion replied with a smile. "Come, I shall show you the abode of the Lannisters."

And with that, Tyrion led Damian through the vast expanse of Casterly Rock, showing him almost every corner of the mighty fortress. They wandered through tunnels that seemed to wind endlessly within the stone, descended into dungeons where the darkest deeds of Lannister history lay hidden, and passed through storerooms stocked for sieges that might never come.

Barracks bustled with soldiers, while grand halls echoed with the history of generations of Lannisters. The stables smelled of fine horses, and the stairways seemed carved into the very bones of the Rock itself. Damian was particularly struck by the courtyards and balconies that looked out over the sea, with Lannisport glittering in the distance like gold dust sprinkled on the horizon.

"This place is a marvel," Damian muttered, remembering something he once read. According to George R. R. Martin, it was said that Casterly Rock was the strongest, most impregnable seat in all of Westeros. From what Damian could see, the claim was entirely true—unless, of course, someone had tampered with the sewers, he thought with a smirk, recalling tales of Tyrion's handiwork.

In the depths of the Rock, Tyrion showed Damian the ancient rooms where lions were once caged. There were cells for the most wretched prisoners, dark and damp, and oubliettes, so small and cramped that a man couldn't even sit, a place designed to break both body and spirit.

Damian's mind wandered to the past. "How did the Greyjoy prisoner escape?" he finally asked, knowing well that without help, escaping these cells would have been near impossible.