Author's notes :

1- This serie of oneshot is part of the Ward of Casterly Rock verse. If you like my work here, please, have a look !

2 - English is not my mothertong. If you read anything which sound not-english-at-all, please feel free to tell me. I write to improve !

1. Lady Alysanne – The Mother

He will make me proud, Lady Alysanne thought as she watched her son.

Whenever she looked at her beloved Tywin, she marveled on own much he looked like her. Not physically, not quite : like his sister and two brothers, he had blond hair as yellow as the sun. He took his green eyes from his father too. In Alysanne the blood of Valyria was still speaking and from her Velaryon mother she had taken a silky, silver mane and purple eyes. Yet in everything else Tywin was hers. They had been riding for days now, from Casterly Rock to King's Landing, following the Golden Road. The pace had been fast, for Alysanne disliked everything slow. He rode straight on his horse, his eyes ever alert despite the long voyage, tireless as ever. She knew him to be very smart, with a quick temper he struggled to control under a mask of ice.

One day, he will deserve every praises. He is promising. He had to, or he would never be allowed to live.

Alysanne wasn't usually that worried. At Casterly Rock Tywin was a little prince. No one would cross him and if they did, she was here. Her husband was weak, a fat cat rather than a lion; she wanted him that way, easy to mold. She would protect her peculiar son no matter what and obviously, soft Tytos would never take the necessary steps if he discovered the truth. King's Landing was different. She wouldn't be there to watch his steps. He wouldn't be the little prince. He would have to bow.

Tywin never bowed to anyone, even his father.

He seemed oblivious to her fears. Fears? She did not fear. She didn't know this feeling at all; since her birth, she had been never felt a fair amount of feelings, and fear was among them. She could calculate the risks, though, cold as a snake, weighing the risk of every situation. In that, too, Tywin looked a lot like her. Now he was standing in his stirrups, legs straight, his gaze searching the horizon.

"Banners, mother," he said with youthful enthusiasm. "Black and red."

He sat back on his saddle and turned his horse toward her. A big, earnest smile was placated on his face. "The Targaryens are sending someone to greet us."

Only with her was he so open. Only with her he truly smiled. He trusted her, she knew, and loved her fiercely. Alysanne liked the feeling that he was hers, completely hers. No other woman would ever rule his heart like she did. When Tytos would die, which would come soon enough, Tywin would bring unlimited glory to their family. He would be strong enough to be the perfect pawn, her queen on the big chessboard of life. She, of course, would be the King behind him.

She felt powerful every time he smiled at her.

Tywin led his horse shoulder to shoulder with Lady Alysanne's. He asked with a low voice, not to be heard by the men of their escort: "Mom. What if I don't like the Prince?"

So he had been worried, after all, only too proud to allow himself to show his weakness.

"You'll fake and be friendly," she answered flatly. He should have talked earlier if he wished too; now there wasn't nearly enough time for this.

"But what if I really don't...
-I understood what you meant the first time." Her violet eyes pierced his green. "It should be easy, actually. Just remember that if you shed even a drop of his blood, they will have your head. A slow, very painful death." He paled. He knew pain, she had made sure of it. "I'll be there for a few days. Do not worry. If you don't like him, I will beat you so thoroughly you won't ever think of hurting the Prince ever again."

For one, small moment, she thought he was going to rebel. He was twelve. Too young to be wholly sure of himself, yet too old to let her do as she wished. Alysanne threw him a warning glare. Careful, boy. My teeth and claws are still longer than yours. She pictured a gold and red dragon curling inside him, hissing, trying to spread its wings against the chain she had carefully put around him. Then she saw herself, chainless, long and silver, with talons as long as his head. A caged dragon would never grow as big as she was, as fierce, as dangerous.

"And what if he doesn't like me?" He said. Retreating. Accepting the menace of her blows.

"He will. You need to trust yourself, love." She brushed a caress on his cheek and laughed when he evaded it. Her little cub shunned her affection in public now, though in private he craved for her approval.

The Targaryen banners were quite near now. A lone rider at the front spurred his horse. As he came but a few meters away from them, Alysanne could see he was but a child, probably hardly older than Tywin, dressed in a shimmering silver chainmail and black and radiant red. He was more than handsome. Pure white hair were fleeting in the wind, crowning pale skin, violet eyes and an easy, charming smile.

Alysanne lowered her head and gaze. From the corner of her eyes she spotted Tywin doing the same. The Targaryen boy crossed the chain of their Lannister guards. Now he was almost seeing eye to eye with Tywin: his black horse was bigger than the chestnut courser, but her son was taller.

The boy flattened on his horse's neck, searching for Tywin gaze with an utter lack of dignity. Head still lowered, Lannister answered with a curious glance, and for one moment the two looked like two curious animals smelling each other.

"Hi," the boy finally said. Tywin blinked. Princes didn't say "hi". Princes were dignified. Princes weren't smiling like fools. "You're Tywin Lannister, right?
-Yes, your Grace."

The boy made a face.

"My name's Aerys. We're going to be squires together. We should be friends." He smiled. Alysanne saw he missed a tooth, probably his last remnant from childhood.
"Yes, your Grace," Tywin answered. Always solemn, her son.
"My name's Aerys," the boy repeated. "Are you stupid or what?"

Tywin recoiled as if stung. Now he wasn't bowing anymore and his courser, sensing his wrath, snorted nervously.

"Of course not," he said, his voice dry. "You said your name was Aerys, your Grace. You didn't allow me to use it without your title.
-Right. Then I, Prince Aerys, Heir to the Throne, Future King of the Andal, Rhoynar, Ironborn and First Men and all that stuff, grant you the right and duty to stop calling me "your Grace"."

His dignified speech lost a lot of weight when one could spot the emptiness of his lost tooth, Alysanne thought, but Tywin seemed pleased enough, and a bit disturbed. He relied a lot on hierarchy and respect people should bestow to their better; the cheer prospect of calling the little Prince by his surname was against everything he knew.

"Do you ride?" Aerys asked.
"I'm on a horse right now," Tywin answered. He tucked his chin out, proud as a kitten after its first fruitful hunt. "I'm the best rider in my whole family.
-I heard your brothers are babies, that's why. No squire in the Red Keep rides better than me.
-I'm sure they let you win.
-No they don't!
-We should have a race. My horse is a bit tired from the trip, so you may win."

Aerys grinned, turned his dark courser. Tywin did not smile, yet Alysanne knew he was more than amused. Then a big man with a white cloak, and a closed helmet raised his voice.

"Your Grace, this would be unwise. Your Lord Father commanded...
-To the Gods Gate ! The looser cleans the other's boots for one month!" Aerys shouted as he kicked his horse. The knight in white swore but Tywin was already gone, pressing his gelding hard on Aerys' heels. The escort followed and she was left alone with her own guards as Alysanne calmly watched them go.

She met them at the gate. By then the smell of the city filled everything, threatening to cling even to her cloths; a strong wind from the sea carried the sent salt, fish and shit. Paupers kept pigs and slaughterhouses outside the walls, and those were especially smelly in the summer warmth. Both boys had set foot on the ground and patted their horses. As Alysanne got nearer, she heard them talk with animation. Aerys laughed for the two of them and Tywin smiled. They met less than an hour ago, yet her solitary son treated the little prince as if he had known him forever.

Lady Alysanne Lannister wasn't worried any more.

No.

She was deadly jealous, and swore to herself that the white haired brat would never, ever take her beloved lion cub's heart from her.