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Chapter 2
When she wasn't serving Lord Tywin, Arya made the rest of Harrenhal her business. She liked to practice her stealth, and the information she gleaned was reward enough. That morning she found herself with quite a bit of free time. It was odd for Lord Tywin to not have her serving the council's table, so she decided to see if she could listen in instead.
"The girls will be delivered to Harrenhal, and I will contact Robb Stark for a meeting." Arya's breath caught in her throat. He could only be talking about Sansa. That had been her plan. And by the way he said girls, it seemed he didn't know that Arya was no longer at the capitol, and she dreaded what would happen once he found out. And yet, a swell of accomplishment overcame her, conflicting with her worry. He really had been listening to her. It was the first time someone had truly taken her seriously. The talking resumed, but all she heard was muttering.
"Would you care to repeat that?" Tywin's voice rang out. Silence followed. She imagined the lord in question had gone pale, as Tywin stared him down. That was one of his favorite tactics, prolonged silence.
"Making peace with the North makes us look weak. We still have more men, we can destroy them and end the rebellion for good." The man answered.
"It's a wonder you even made it to commander. War is more than just fighting; it's politics. If you cannot see that then there's no place for you at this table. Get out." A chair scrapped against stone, and Arya had just enough time to round the corner as the door swung open, and an angry general exited the room.
Lord Tywin's words ran through her head for the rest of the day. She wasn't sure why she had not been let in on that meeting, but she assumed it must have something to do with it being her plan. Maybe he didn't want his generals knowing that he had let her devise one of his battle plans after all. Or maybe he had figured out who she was, and didn't want her to gain any more information on his strategies.
What worried her even more was what he would do when only Sansa was delivered. She hoped that he wouldn't scrap her plan altogether. She wanted it to work. She wanted the war to end, and to return to Winterfell without any more of her family dying.
Arya didn't sleep much the following week. She kept anticipating her sister's arrival, and tried to come up with ways to avoid her. As much as she wanted to see her sister, she couldn't risk Sansa giving her away. She had seen Tywin's wrath to those who went against him, and she had lied and tricked him right to his face. Escaping had crossed her mind several times, but it might seem too suspicious if she left right before Sansa arrived.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, girl." Tywin informed her one day.
"To the Lannister camp. Be ready at first light." His tone indicated her dismissal, and she could see by his body language that he was in no mood for a verbal spar today. She nodded and left him to his work.
Once again, Arya found herself traveling the King's Road in the company of Lannisters. It was a two day's ride to the encampment, so Arya figured she had at least that much time before she had to worry about her sister.
Tywin gathered his generals as soon as he arrived. He informed them of the impending delivery of the Stark girls, and his plans to offer peace. None of lords offered any dissent, perhaps already aware of what happened to the last man.
It was dusk by the time the council dispersed, and Arya was tired. She exited the tent and automatically turned left. She passed a good five tents before she realized she didn't know where she was. Her feet had carried her as if she were still back in Harrenhal, but now she was in unfamiliar territory. Arya also realized she didn't know where she was supposed to stay, so she turned around to head back to Tywin's tent.
No sooner had she gone ten paces did she collide with someone, knocking both of them to the ground. The soldier righted himself as his companions caught up. One of them slapped him on the back.
"All right there, clumsy?" He snickered. The other soldier jerked his arm away. It seemed he didn't take well to the innocent jab.
"You there, servant." He turned his attention on her instead.
"Watch where you're going! We're important men here. Can't have little kids like you in our way." Arya raised her eyebrow, unamused at his attempt at intimidation.
"If you're so important, shouldn't you know where you're going? Pushing little girls isn't very dignified." His face contorted in anger, before settling on a leer.
"A girl, eh? You wouldn't happen to be the Lord Commander's personal slave, now would ya?" Arya, defiance flaring up, didn't heed the look in his eye.
"And what if I am?"
"Then I think it's about time someone teach you some manners. We can't have you serving our Lord Commander without proper training."
The soldiers closed in, blocking any route of escape. Arya glanced around for something, anything that could be used to defend herself, and spotted a dagger on the belt of one of the soldiers. Without hesitation she lunged at the man, and grabbed his dagger. He stumbled backward, creating a gap she could slip through, but before she could take another step, another soldier was upon her. He put her in a chokehold as he dragged her back into the circle. Knowing she was about to lose consciousness, Arya spun the dagger in her hand and thrust it back with all the strength she could muster. Her aim was true, and she gasped for air.
The reprieve didn't last long as she was taken roughly by the arm and slammed into the ground. Arya barely had time to think as the tip of a sword entered her field of vision. She closed her eyes and looked away, waiting for the pain to come. And it did. The searing pain caused her to cry out, and open her eyes. Without even thinking her hand had come up to meet the sword. Blood ran down her forearm as she gripped the edge of the blade, and fought to remain conscious.
"Do it!" One of the other soldiers yelled.
"Stop." The command cut through the chaos, and all head turned towards the imposing figure of Tywin Lannister. The soldiers immediately sheathed their swords and stood at attention; all except the one bearing down on Arya. Lord Tywin approached the man.
"Put your sword away." He said. Although the order was soft, it was cold, and held the full weight of a death threat. Arya sighed as she finally allowed herself to release the blade, and the soldier withdrew.
"I was not under the impression that any orders were given to kill my cupbearer." Tywin said as he walked slowly around the circle. He stopped when he came to the man wounded by the dagger.
"My lord, she attacked us. We was only defending ourselves." The wounded man said. Tywin didn't even blink.
"I don't need you to tell me what happened. I can see through your lie as easily as that dagger found your gut." He turned back to the rest of the group.
"I take this attempt as a personal insult. Fifty lashes for each of you. And next time, it'll be your heads."
"My lord, what about him? He needs a healer." One soldier gestured to his wounded friend on the ground.
"I'm not wasting my maester's time on the likes of him. If he lives I'll consider it punishment enough." He replied coldly. The soldier could only nod and hurried away. As soon as the last soldier was out of sight Arya whirled to face him.
"I didn't attack them! They're lying. I was only trying to defend myself." Tywin raised an eyebrow in amusement. Even while bleeding, and just nearly escaping death she still had fire in her voice.
"Come." Was all he said, and he lead the way to his tent.
He instructed her to sit while she waited for a healer to tend to her wounds. The healer applied a salve, and bandaged her hand. After Tywin was assured she did not need to be kept overnight, he called for a soldier to escort her to her tent, and to keep a posted guard at night. Arya had been silent the entire time. It was only before she exited his tent that she was able to whisper a quiet thank you over her shoulder.
When she left, Tywin put down the parchment he had been pretending to read. It appeared that her honorable statement earlier about swinging the sword weren't just words. Her knife work, and her wound tonight proved she had the resolve to follow through. This new information told him she could be dangerous, and it only made her all the more fascinating [1].
The next morning, Tywin received a letter from Robb Stark, accepting his request for a meeting. The Stark hostages were expected to arrive soon, and he ordered them to be brought to him directly. Until their arrival, he busied himself with writing and answering the endless pile of letters. He didn't even have his cupbearer to entertain him, as he had instructed she rest her hand.
"My lord the hostage has arrived." Tywin looked up to see a young girl with fiery red hair enter his tent. He waited for the other one to follow, but no one did.
"Where's the other one?" He asked the guard sharply.
"Sir, there was no one else." He bowed, and quickly went back to his post. Tywin cursed and started writing a new letter furiously. Obviously, Cersei had forgotten to mention the crucial fact that she did not have both Stark daughters. She could be anywhere, or maybe Joffrey had killed her he thought. Either way, now his hand was significantly depleted.
"Lady Stark." He said. He caught her imperceptible flinch, but she raised her head.
"Lady Stark, I was under the impression that I would be receiving you and your sister. Tell me, where is she?" Sansa dropped her eyes to the ground.
"I-I don't know where she is, my lord." He narrowed his eyes. This one wouldn't need much convincing. She was much more docile than his Northern cupbearer. He wondered if she was even a Stark.
"I do not like being lied to." He said quietly.
"Now, I'll ask you again. Where is Arya Stark?"
"I don't know where she, is my lord, honest. I haven't seen her since father was captured. She's not in the castle." The girl began to ramble. "I wouldn't lie to you, sir, I haven't seen her in so long. She might be in the capitol somewhere, but I haven't seen her at all. I barely leave my room as it is, and—"
"Enough." He cut her off before the tears in her eyes led to a full on meltdown. He sat back in his chair, steepling his hands in front of him. It seemed Arya Stark managed to escape the capitol. As long as Robb did not have her, he could still make the negotiations work. After all, he had the most important one, the eldest daughter.
"Let's make sure you understand your roll." He said leaning forward.
"You are a hostage. However, you are still a lady of a great house. Whatever treatment you received in King's Landing will not be done here. You are to stay in your tent unless called upon. You will be guarded around the clock so don't even think about escape." He could tell from the way she held herself that she must have been subject to torment, and perhaps even some mild torture.
"You will be a bargaining chip for peace with your brother. You will not do or say anything unless I give you permission, lest you want to jeopardize your family's lives." He dismissed her, and finished writing a berating letter to Cersei. For now, a letter would have to do. He always seemed to have more pressing matters on his hands.
Endnote
1. Scene was inspired by A Wolf Amongst Lions, Kallypso
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