The Wolf and The Lion [Bryen]

Tytus sat alone... mostly alone at any rate save for the guard behind his door. A messenger had arrived from Casterly Rock while he had been with the council of Lords with a satchel of documents for him. Most were incidental and consequently good fuel for the fire, few others required his reply which he had decided to issue while he awaited Lord Stark. As he applied his seal to the final reply and placed it in to the messenger's bag there cam a knock at his door, it seemed that Lord Stark was on his way now. He nodded to the servant and tossed him a silver stag for his trouble before rising from his desk and occupying one of the chairs at the centre of the room. Across from him there was another seat for Lord Stark and between them a pitcher of ale from The Neck along with two cups. Good stuff he thought, well worth what he'd paid for the cask. Even amongst the comfort and familiarity of his chambers though, he was troubled, which was exactly why he wished to see Lord Stark as soon as possible. The fact that the chances of the Baratheon boy or anyone else turning up along with him for that matter were slim made things much easier.

Gesturing the guard to approach he passed him the messenger's satchel. 'Make arrangements for this to be returned to Casterly Rock, have the messenger pass it to the castle Steward. Not the guards, not the servants, to the Steward. Tell the men outside that Lord Stark is soon to join me, they are to allow him in, but no other. Once you're done, send a raven ahead of the messenger to Casterly Rock informing them of what has befallen Lord Baratheon.' The guard nodded and went about his duties. Still Tytus was troubled, not so much afraid of what recent events meant, but anxious to see things done with and done with soon. As he sat he noticed that his hands were trembling.... not now, he thought, any time but now. He had things to do.

Pouring himself a cup of the golden ale he quaffed it in one, which at least for the moment seemed to still the shaking. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back, tipping his head to the ceiling as his hands hung lazily over the sides of his chair. He remained thus until there was a second knock at his door which he presumed to be Lord Stark. 'Enter.' His voice, even to him, sounded tired and drawn out now that he'd finally been given a chance to relax a bit. He could rest properly after this at the very least.