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I hope you will like this chapter!
Chapter 2: Thousands of names in a red sewn book
As we made our way back to Casterly Rock, I could not help but ask. Cersei's word were nagging at the back of my mind and I felt foolish, a sixteen years old woman, old enough to be married, perhaps already promised, but plagued with an utter lack of curiosity.
I was surprised. Envisioning my wedding had been a sweet fairytale for many cold, winter nights when I was smaller. I still wondered about it from time to time. I would wear a beautiful dress of green, blue and white, my family's colors, along with embroideries of true silver. My hair would be fantastic, braided with flowers and pearls and ribbons. My cloak would of course have the rearing white stag, strong and menacing, yet not as fearful as Tywin's lion. Of course my Lord was here, in my dreams, as the one who walked me to my faceless groom. Yes; I knew I wanted flowers everywhere, a grant banquet and a harness with golden bells for my horse. I knew I wanted to eat swan with honey and berries, salmon in herbs and whole bowls of fruits. I knew exactly how my sisters should be dressed. What I did not know was the most important: who I actually wanted to marry, whether I wanted him to be handsome or intelligent, rich or kind, a great warrior or a careful planer. No. He was a shadow, the idea of a man, but no man at all.
We rode slowly on the Golden Road, so I only had to push my chestnut mare to a small trot to join Tywin, at the front of the column.
"May we speak privately, my Lord ?"
His gazed had been set on the horizon, unfocused. He nodded quickly and motioned his mounted guards to spread and give us space.
"Have you already decided who I'm to marry?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"And why would you ask about this subject now?"
I did not know if he meant "this late", or that it wasn't the right time. I answered truthfully that I was bored and curious.
"If you ask because of what you saw of Lysa Arryn's and my daughter's marriage, yes, I have set my mind on someone, even though I can still change my mind, and no, he isn't older than me, a drunk, and do not indulge publicly with whores.
-Are you talking about King Robert?"
He threw me a hard glare.
"Of course not. Our beloved King is worth my respect and I will never criticize him. I wasn't thinking about anyone in particular."
Of course he was thinking about the King. After the meeting regarding the loan, I understood where Robert found time to work: in Lord Arryn or Lord Stannis's timetable. It was as if the man only dealt with the feasting part of the job. It had been left unsaid that reducing his spending in parties, girls, and tourneys would be a better step for the treasury than usury, but he would have badly reacted. Furthermore, I was persuaded Tywin did not mind at all having the Crown indebted to him.
"So who is he?
-If I was to tell you, then I wouldn't be free to change my mind anymore.
-No one would know.
-Both of you would know, which is more than I intend.
-Then he knows he is to marry me?
-No. I bet he suspects it, but right now, he only knows he should not court any woman."
I was suddenly very excited. I was sixteen. I could marry soon, have a husband, have babies as cute as Joffrey. And I would go back to Fairkeep, where everything would be done according to my mind.
"Please. I won't tell. It will be our secret.
-Careful, girl. I know better than to tell any secret to a woman your age.
-Then can I guess?
-You can ask. I'll give you one question a day, until we arrive at Casterly Rock and if I wish, I will answer. If I refuse, you won't ask until the next morning, so chose carefully."
I frowned. I had dozens of questions, all of which I wanted to ask first, and we had "only" thirteen days until we reached our home.
"Is he handsome?
-According to most women, yes."
On the second day, Tywin refused to answer: "Do I know him?"
However, he did on the third: "Is he older than Cersei?" He was.
"Is he a lord?" No, he wasn't.
"Will I like him?" How was he supposed to know?
"Is he kind?" Kind enough. A real man was not supposed to be as gentle as a maiden, after all.
"Is he brave?" Yes, to the point of recklessness.
"What does he likes?" Unfortunately, girls. Horses, armor and swords would come close.
"Does he have any children?" None Tywin was aware of.
"Is he from a great family?" He refused to answer.
"Do you think he will like me?" How was he supposed to know?
"What's his favorite color?" Tywin looked surprised, then thoughtful, then admitted he did not know.
"Will he be a good Lord to Fairkeep?" He was not a bad man, but lacked patience. Which was why he tutored me in the arts of administration.
I hesitated for the last question, and it was only when the sea, the white sails of the harbor of Lannisport and the red roofs of the lower city came to view that I dared to ask.
"Is my wedding to this man the only reason you made me your ward?
-Yes."
My blood ran cold. Tywin went on, as if he expected such a reaction.
"This is something you need to know about the world, Esteill. Nothing is ever free. If someone makes a gift, the gift is not real. It is a debt. If you don't gift the man in return with something of equal value, you will lose face. If you give someone a gift he cannot follow, then he will be humiliated or obligated to you. It is the same if someone invites you to a feast: you will have to return the invitation, unless you want to look rude or weaker than him. It is the same for actions. If you help someone, you will expect his loyalty in return, even if he didn't ask for your help in the first place."
"It doesn't mean people are bad. Or I'd rather say, it doesn't mean good people don't exist. Only that even they are doing nothing for free, though a lot of them are not aware of this fact. This is why Jon Arryn wanted to repay the favor immediately. As a man of honor, he would not shy from this duty, yet as an intelligent man as well, he knew that having this kind of lasting debt with me could be dangerous."
"This is why, as well, a lot of people don't understand our words: A Lannister Always Pays His Debts. These are not only a matter of money. They were deserved by those of my forefathers I wanted as models for their ability to honor their debts, in favors or money, and to strike back against any insult or injury. I made them my own both to threaten would-be traitors and for them to understand what kind of honor I have to offer."
"So, you asked me: Did I took you to Casterly Rock, protect your lands, offer you education, only because I knew I would wed you ? The answer is yes. I gave you much for your hand, which I will give to a good man. If you think about it, why would I takein a girl with living parents to take care of her or with nothing to offer?
-For charity?
-Would it be better? I cannot offer charity to every orphan. Furthermore, you would have ended up so indebted to me that you would have needed a lifetime of service to repay me. And no, I wouldn't have asked. You would have given your life, freely. Do you think today's revelation stains what I bestowed upon you?
-Yes," I answered truthfully. "I thought you were... well... a good person. Doing things for the sake of being honorable. To protect the weak."
He looked mildly surprised. Obviously, it wasn't often the Lord Paramount of Casterly Rock was expected to be benevolent.
"Wrong. If you think it stains our relationship, then you understood nothing of today's lesson. It is your vision of the whole world which should be stained, our relationship being only a small fraction of this world. You wanted me to be benevolent, yet you fail to see I was, indeed. I could have married you to a mindless brute or an old man to whom I owed a favor. I didn't and instead gave you all the weapons necessary to rule with your husband. No Lord can be more benevolent without losing something in the bargain. I am no Septon, or Holy Man, and neither are you. Never forget who you are."
We parted as we passed the city gates. Tywin rode at the front with his personal guard while us, the minor lords and his host would go after him. He would probably be on his way to his desk before I could even set a foot on the ground. Even if the thirteen days of travel had made me more athletic, I was grateful for a long bath, a copious diner and an overly long night.
I was invited, the next morning, to tour the docks of Lannisport with Tywin. His father Tytos had renovated parts of the port in his time, but had badly chosen his builders, forcing his son to destroy most of the new infrastructures to build new, non-faulty ones. As he had, in the same time, negotiated lucrative treaties with the Free Cities, Lannisport was now faced with more ships than it could handle. Plans had been made for the drying of a swamp north of the city, or for the construction of a wooden floating city under the cliffs of Casterly Rocks. Tywin had finally settled for a secondary port in Fairkeep where the merchants would unload all products destined for the north of Highgarden and south of his own lands, thus cutting traffic to Lannisport from the ten percent it couldn't handle at the moment. Of course, the plan would work only if I proved able to understand the management of a port (something which wasn't Tywin specialty), if we followed the same track and, of course, if Tywin could trust me not to take advantage of the situation and stick to my ten percent.
Thankfully, it was as if Tywin's absence had spurred his worker's motivation. We found the building ahead of the schedule. Though Lord Lannister never smiled, true to his words of the day before, he commanded the counter master to grant a two days salary allowance to the men and a barrel of wine to be used during lunch. There were no cheers, but a few respectful, pleased thanks. Somehow the workers seemed confident their Lord would reward them for their work but were scared of him in equal measure.
This small victory lured me into believing I could make demands. Tywin seemed pleased enough to go back to Casterly Roc by a slow pace, taking in everything he could from his city ; when in a bad mood, he would rush to his gates to work. But today, today was beautiful, warm, and there was no reason to be overly careful.
"Can I marry now?"
His face remained as stone, but his hands contracted on the reins of his horse.
"No.
-But I would like to!" Surely, if I was convincing enough, he would relent. "You taught me most of what I need. And I only have sisters, non-married. If I was to marry now, I could have a son in a year and a half...
-No. I said no, Esteill, and I think you know what the word means.
-But why? You already know the man, it's been decided for years!
-A month ago, getting married was the last of your worries. I would have...
-But I want a baby! Cersei has one, you've seen him!"
He shot me a thunderous glare. Interrupting Tywin Lannister was always a bad move. Obviously, bringing Cersei into a debate he did not wish to have was even worse.
"Yes. Cersei has a baby. Did you know Jaime wrote to me when she gave birth? Father, Cersei's been in that room for one day and she's still there, Father, Cersei's not screaming anymore because she's so tired, Father is she going to die, Father please come to King's Landing ? But of course I couldn't, because obviously if Cersei had died, she would have long before my arrival. And so I waited until hours and hours and hours later another raven came from Jaime. Two days of labor in blood and pain. Yes, Cersei has a baby, and I got the letter of a grown man who discovered women die in childbirth. And do not believe that you're going to escape her fate, silly little girl: the youngest die more."
With these last words, he kicked his worse, forcing a group of young women to cower against a wall as he stormed past them. My eyes prickled with tears of hurt, fear and shame; hurt, because I sincerely wanted to be a mother now. Of fear because Tywin would keep this happiness from me, or he was right and I would die. And shame because, obviously, I bring back the painful memories of his wife's death through the near disaster of Cersei's first son ordeal.
I retired to the Sept and knelt in front of the Mother. For the first time since my father's death, my prayers were earnest. I did not care that Tywin did not believe in the gods. I did not care from my own lack of faith in the past years. Now I needed a mom, I needed my mom to be there, to tell me everything would be alright. But my mom had died in childbirth as well. I could hardly remember her face anymore, or what her voice sounded like.
After some hours, my head cleared and my tears went dry. There was no use crying: tears wouldn't move my Lord. Furthermore I was puzzled by his last words -the youngest die more- and, as a scholarly girl, I was soon annoyed I couldn't see sense in what he said.
I decided to consult his Maester. The man was older than Tywin and had been there since the beginning of his reign, when Tywin had sent his faster's Maester back to Citadel, accusing him of being an incompetent sycophant. Despite his arched back and bulgy, half blind watery eyes, he knew all there was to now about the Rock and its Lord.
"Ah." He coughed, slowly raised from his desk and motioned me to follow. "I thought it would come back one day. I was surprised it wasn't earlier, with young Cersei." His feet rattled the ground as he led me to a small library. At the end of the room, spiraling stairs went up, and up there was only Tywin's room. "These rooms used to be for the Ladies. But Lord Tytos had given the place to his mistress so Lord Tywin refused to give them to his wife. He wanted me to be there instead, so he could get in the library whenever he wished. He had this special project, back in the time... ah. There they are, his little pet projects. His bony finger trailed against a shelf of paper. A whole one of sheets tied together with red threads. He taped against one at the far end. "This one. The last one."
He took the book and walked to a small desk, half hidden a corner. At his order I opened a window above it. The light flowed when I removed the wooden shutter. A thick layer of dust made it obvious that no one had used the place in months.
Maester Joris put the book on the desk, coughed again because of the dust and told me to read this. If I had any question, he would be in his office.
The cover was a simple sheet with Tywin's spiky handwriting. The title was "W. stat. Y267 -", as if a second date was missing.
On the other side were the words : "Contains :
One – Statistics for the year. For details see each personal sheet.
Two – Synopsis of exchanges with the Citadel
Three – Conclusions for the year
Four – Theories for next year"
On the next page was a list of persons : "In charge centralization : Maester Joris and Aidan, Casterly Rock. In charge inquiries Lannisport : Maester Anton, Septon Kavan, Septon Ancel, Septon Aster, Septa Lysa, Septa Lanna, Septa Arianna, Street Healer Kanodra of Lys, Wise-woman Belline..."
The list went on and on. There were people from every major town of the West or even villages. I was stunned to recognize the names of the Maester of Fairkeep and of the Septon on the town. All of these people either had responsibilities in their town or were somehow linked to medicine.
The next page was full of column and looked like some kind of accounting book. Only, I finally understood with widening eyes, Tywin hadn't been counting money.
He had been counting women. Or, to be more precise : dead women.
The first column was "pregnancies", the second "non productive pregnancies", the third "death in labor". Then he had detailed everything : the same sheet, taking into account the hair color. Then another one for legitimate birth and bastards. The next one for rich or poor girls, then by ages, number of children already birthed by the woman, if a Maester or a Septon had been there, if the mother was a good believer, if she had wide, average or small hips or breasts, if the birth was near or far from the sea... I turned the pages, but the same column lined up years after years, increasing the number of women as Tywin added more names to the contributors. Some were abandoned (like the one about the sea, or the color of the hair), other were still there, even after the handwriting changed. Obviously Tywin invested less time now in his researches, but he must have given orders for his project to continue.
Now his words made sense. Page after page, he concluded the youngest and oldest women had most chances to die, very young girls of eleven (I shuddered), twelve or thirteen being most in danger. After this conclusion, a small arrow led to the conclusion: "Forbid wedding and birth before fourteen. Do not condemn abortin before fourteen. High penalty for faulty fathers. Double penalty for rape if under fourteen." Others were made, such as "obligation for a wise woman or barber or septa if family wealthy enough", "ask Citadel for better teaching for all Maester", "forbid use of red lilies from Lys = KILL mother, no help, to ban from Lannisport".
I was astonished. After Joanna's death, Tywin had built a whole network of men and woman who reported to him everything there was to know. I opened a book, then another, and found them full of sheets with numerous handwritings. I searched for the one with my last sister's birth date. I shivered as I found my mother, gory details, how she had died, what the Maester remembered about the first three births and the last one. Someone had compiled all this data, Tywin himself at first, then someone else, in a unique way. It was just brilliant, the way he had managed to put all these women in neat, clear columns, then used them to actually try to improve the situation.
I stopped when light became scarce. My belly was rumbling, but I felt I had to talk to Joris. I needed to know more about this fascinating system.
"Lord Tywin wanted to know why Lady Joanna died. We had a young Maester then, called Aidan, who is now an archmaester at the Citadel. He invented this system. "Statistics", he called it. Lord Tywin was very interested. He wanted them for soldiers, but ended up with Aidan working on women after Joanna died. A few years ago, Lord Tywin's project was a big thing at the Citadel because of the scale of his researches. They asked questions and he provided answers. Huge improvements were made in understanding the problems of childbirth. Then, of course, something else became fashionable, Aidan got his seat and my Lord turned to other projects. But he still wants us to get the numbers.
-Did he discover why Joanna died?"
He shook his head.
"No," he answered sadly. "No, he didn't. The statistics proved only one thing : Lady Joanna should have lived. We found no explanation, none at all, other than disgrace from the Seven."
I came back to my room and asked my servant to bring me diner. I did not want to meet Tywin now. My discoveries gave me the will to pardon his outburst and will to delay my wedding, but I refused to be the sixteen, officially non-courted woman anymore. If I couldn't wed now then I could at least be engaged. It would be nice to have a man in my life, to dance with him or walk with my hand on his elbow. I wanted to plan for my next attack on my Lord, yet I ended up curled in my bed, envisioning dreamy, fluffy romantic scenes with a dark-haired, tall and strikingly beautiful warrior. I woke up the next morning, having done no progress at all.
I spend the next morning rehearsing, speaking aloud in front of my table mirror. Then I would feel ridiculous, pace the room, find new arguments and do it again. After two hours, I felt I was only running in circles and decided to try my luck.
I found Tywin in his office. To my best bow he answered with furrowed eyebrows. He was suspicious or I didn't know him at all.
"My Lord, I have been thinking carefully about...
-If you are going to rant about getting married again, you can stop and go away. I don't have time for this.
-I wasn't going to!"
Of course I was going to. But if I didn't say the m- or w- words, it wasn't that much of lie, wasn't it?
"Then what?
-I understand your position on this subject and agree that I am, indeed, too young."
He raised an eyebrow, as if he did not know if he was to be pleased or ready to be backstabbed with whatever nonsense I could provide. I smiled sweetly.
"I think the right age to marry should be eighteen.
-I agree.
-I'll be seventeen in three months.
-I know.
-I think it would not be tasteful if I was to be married at eighteen without a proper courtship."
He opened his mouth but no sound came out. His breath stuck in his throat, then got out in a soft hiss. He had a thoughtful look on his face.
"I actually agree with you," he said with disbelief, as if he hadn't been expecting anything sensible. I was even more surprised. Could I really persuade him to give me what I wanted? "I'll talk to him.
-You will?
-I said so.
-You really will?"
I felt as if I had stars shining in my eyes. Tywin, however, glared as if something unpleasant had popped out of my nose.
"I said so.
-Thank you!" I could have hugged him, if not for the desk between us. And the fact that no one hugged Lord Tywin Lannister. "I'll behave and...
-Yes, yes. Now please go away." He waved me off and I left, floating on a little pink cloud.
A cloud that sparkled, because I was young and foolish, and because I did not know my fiancé would soon bath us all in blood.
Two weeks after my conversation with Tywin, I was ordered to meet my Lord in the White Rose Garden. I hadn't seen him for days and was sure he had been avoiding me.
The garden had been created by Lady Joanna. I had heard she had designed everything with her husband in mind, which had always been puzzling: how could anyone be inspired by my Lord to plant flowers was beyond me. Furthermore, the place, left unchanged for years, was lovely and wild, with none of the elaborated geometrical shapes of Joanna's other gardens. Aside from its remoteness I could not find anything here which would please Tywin. Yet he was here, waiting for me, looking somewhat embarrassed for the first time of my life.
"You should sit there," he said nervously. "Under the roses arch. Lay down your hair."
I did as told, only to hear that I actually looked better with my braids. I should turn a little to show my good profile, straighten my back, look kind and spirited but not pedantic. I should not talk about accounting. Or history. Or... actually, I should not speak about anything intelligent at all. The best was to listen and laugh to all of his jokes.
"Are you afraid he won't like me?" I asked, trying to make it sound like a jest. Tywin's advices were beginning to scare me. Who was that man? Surely, he was someone special, or Tywin wouldn't be nervous. My blood ran cold as I understood the truth.
He was marrying me to his son. Perhaps he liked the imp after all and was afraid of my distaste for him. I'd rather throw myself from a tower than marry Tyrion and his short, disgusting legs and arms.
"Of course not," Tywin answered, looking like a wounded chicken. "Just don't mess it up." Then he left me there, alone with my fear.
It made sense. Tywin had tried for years to find a good match for Tyrion, but no lord would give his daughter to a dwarf. Perhaps I was the best he could have. It would add Fairkeep to Casterly Rock and with my lands fully in Lannister's hands, he didn't have to fear a failure of his strategy regarding Lannisport. He hadn't been waiting for me to be older, he had waited for Tyrion to stop being a mere boy. But Tywin had miscalculated. I was a Lady and I wasn't going to let him marry me to a monster. He couldn't! He would hate me for this, but even in front of the Septon I would say no to the Imp.
I stand up and straighten my back, as he had ordered. But it wasn't to please. I needed to feel strong, to let the physical sensation feed my determination. I left the roses to follow Tywin but stopped soon enough when I spotted him, talking in an animated manner with his younger brother Gerion. Tyrion's uncle had always been a strong supporter of the dwarf. Was he displeased by the match? I calmed my ragging breath. Tywin went from annoyed to angry. The volume rose and I was soon able to catch most of what they say.
"... do you always have to try to control everything ? Our father let you chose who you wanted to marry. You got who you wanted, Kevan got who he wanted, even Tygett...
-So this is the reason why you're being so difficult? Because I refused to let you marry that… The girl was a fucking cook, Gerion ! After ten years I dared to believe you had grown up and...
-And finally accepted the cold fishes you throw at me ? What's wrong with being unmarried? I hear ser Brynden Tully is not married and his brother does not mind. So are Benjen Stark and Oberyn Martell.
-Benjen Stark is a member of the Night's Watch," Tywin retorted coldly. "You are just being ridiculous. I offer you a Lordship...
-Sod off! I don't want a lordship, by the Seven Hells, I want nothing from you, much less a wife! If the Night's Watch vows did not include celibacy I'd go to the Wall just to get rid of you!"
Then Tywin slapped him, and hell broke loose.
Gerion froze for a second. As a grown man, he had probably never been slapped since he had reached adulthood, and his brother's reaction took him by surprise. But surprise soon wore off and the younger man launched himself at his brother and Lord. The unexpected move caught Tywin off guard and he crashed heavily on his back. Gerion did not let got and instead rose his fist to strike.
Panicked, I scanned the garden until my eyes rested on the tall, lean wood pieces used to guide the rose bushes growth. I yanked it from the ground but my improvised weapon got stuck in branches. By the time I had it properly in hands, Tywin had retaliated and split Gerion's lips. Both men had bleeding noses, but Gerion was still topping and angry. I raised my stick and forcefully struck him right through his shoulders. I was aiming for the head.
The stick broke. The fight stopped, frozen in time. The two brothers threw me astonished glances. I did not know if I was supposed to be proud or mortified: it was so clear now that my weapon was completely useless! I could have hit him square on the head without making much damage. Finally anger won.
"You don't have to fight. I don't want to marry him anyway."
My voice rose, louder and louder, until I literally shrieked.
"You're just a stupid, unambitious worthless pig! You don't even care to try to know me at all!
-Wait, wait!" Gerion said quickly. He was still straddling his brother, but Tywin seemed all too happy to be forgotten since his younger brother had been winning the fight. "It's nothing personal...
-How can it not be personal? You just said you don't want to marry me...
-Let me exp...
-... all because you don't like your brother...
-It's not that...
-... and you don't care that I could be a great person and perhaps we could be very happy together !
-Calm down, girl," Gerion answered with a soothing tone. "You're the fifth girl Tywin is trying to...
-I am? So this is all I am to you? I'm not the fifth girl!" I tried to slap him but landed ridiculous, harmless blows, or tried to since he easily blocked them. "I'm not some number on your list! I'm the woman who won't marry you even if you're the last man on the face of Westeros!" I ended up flogging him with my scarf. Tywin was probably trying to say something, perhaps to ask if Gerion could get off him, but I ignored him. "You can go to the Night's Watch for all I care! I hope your cock will freeze and fall when you're there!"
I found myself breathless, my cheeks red, and Tywin looking at me as if he'd never heard a girl pronounce the word cock. Suddenly we all felt utterly, completely ridiculous, I for my outburst and foul words, Gerion for the whole mess and Tywin, well, probably for his less than dignified position. He was the first to react and pushed Gerion away. He rose and sat, his nose bleeding with profusion now. I kneeled and pushed my handkerchief to his face. I threw Gerion a venomous glare.
"Go find a cooking girl if you want someone's help."
He gaped like a lost fish, then got up and left, holding his sleeve to his own bleeding nose. I was soon left alone, in the grass with a silent and pensive Tywin, until he broke the spell, only to say:
"Well, that was even worse than expected."
