The thick walls kept the commotion outside Harrenhal at bay.
The cheers and the blare of horns beyond the walls were faint echoes from another world.
Jon Arryn sat at the table, lightly tapping his fingers against the rough wooden surface as he waited.
The door opened quietly, and Brynden Tully walked in. He was tall and straight-backed, his gray hair gleaming silver in the firelight.
He wore no armor, only plain leather, but the sharpness of a renowned knight had not diminished in the slightest.
Brynden Tully's voice was hoarse. He dipped his head slightly. "My lord."
Jon Arryn gestured for him to sit and personally poured him a glass of wine.
He got straight to the point, his voice tinged with weariness. "The king's position has begun to soften."
Brynden Tully took the wineglass but did not drink. He only ran a finger along its rim, his sharp gaze fixed on the Hand of the King.
"Robert is a man who values his bonds, but he is also a king."
"He cannot turn a blind eye to Lymond Lychester's accomplishments."
"So he'll agree to the arrangement of having both a Warden and a governor. I think it's workable too."
Jon Arryn leaned forward, lowering his voice as his tone grew earnest.
"Brynden, I know this sounds unacceptable, but you need to look further ahead."
"How much longer can Lymond Lychester live? Five years? Ten?"
He pointed to the candle in the room, its flame nearing the end of its wick.
"His life is like this candle. It could go out at any moment. He already has one foot in the grave."
"By then, your nephew Edmure will be in his prime, and power in the Riverlands will naturally return to House Tully."
"You might even go a step