Thank you all for reading.
Damonica4ever: I'm not sure if the marriage is going to work, but I do know one thing, it is happening ...
Honeyshroom: Thank you. I try to get into the heads of the different characters and try to speak with their voice and think with their heads. I find it easier with Catelyn since she's one of my favourite characters and I sympathize with her - most of my stories have her as a main character. Besides, she's also a main POV character in the books. Not so with Tywin, I found him harder to write. I'm glad you think I got them right, that's very important for me. Thanks.
Here's another Tywin POV chapter ...
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4. Tywin III:
He spent the next three days planning the last details of the wedding. It was not to be a grand celebration, just a small intimate gathering with the people from the castle. He would see his family in a few days for Joffrey's wedding. It was a political wedding in the midst of war. It was a long term plan not an alliance of armies. He didn't need an opulent feast, best leave that for the young King and his Court.
Then he turned to more pressing matters. He wrote to his brother at Riverrun informing him that he could rule the Riverlands in his stead until he was able to produce an heir with Catelyn and then the boy would inherit all the titles to Riverrun. He wrote to Lord Frey asking for any new developments regarding any remaining Stark men who may have escaped the ambush, especially the so called Blackfish. He needed to be eliminated to erase any other prospective Tully heir to Riverrun. Edmure Tully was to be released and allowed to return to Riverrun with his new Frey wife, but he was not going to be Lord of Riverrun. The Riverlands belonged to the Lannisters now. He also sent letters to his son Jamie informing him of his new plans and asking to keep him abreast of any new developments concerning Joffrey. He was genuinely afraid for the boy. He was reckless and many of his careless actions put the realm and all of Tywin's hopes and dreams at risk.
Finally the day arrived. He gathered his most trusted Lords and their Ladies, most of the sergeants and lieutenants and the Sept in the Main Room. He was dressed in dark grey velvet pants, a crimson leather doublet with golden ornaments. His crimson cloak bore the golden lion of Lannister. He had made sure to let his wife wear her colours, so her dress was made in blue silk with thin red lines for her Tully side and grey embroidery in honor of her Stark side - nothing too fancy or flamboyant. Her hair was braided in a simple northern style, most likely she had done it herself, as he knew she had been refusing the service of the handmaidens he had provided for her. She was wearing a gold necklace with matching earrings and bracelets. He had to admit she looked much better than when she had first stepped off the boat at the quay. She did not look quite so haggard and so worn. He could even say she looked attractive. The ceremony was short and simple. He was not going to fool himself or his guests. This was not a celebration but, as he liked to call it, a long term plan. As the Sept said his words and they pronounced their vows, he donned the crimson Lannister cloak on her shoulders and it didn't take long for everybody to start calling for the bedding ceremony. Most of the female guest were too embarrassed to start tearing at his clothes so they just pretended to be pulling and pushing, but in reality all they were doing was respectfully escorting him out of the room. He noticed that, although most of the men were eager to rid his wife of her clothes, she was the one hurrying out of the room, practically elbowing her way past the mob of leering men and their lewd comments.
When they found themselves alone in his chambers, they both stood still and silent, unsure of what to say to each other. He realized that he indeed wanted her. He knew he could force her if he wanted to, but he did not really want to start an already shaky relationship with such violence and force. He also knew she would do her duty by him, it was in her words, after all. He did not have to wait long before she started slowly pulling at her clothes while she kept her steely glare fixed on him.
"Do you need help?" he asked tentatively and took a couple of steps towards her.
"No, thank you, my Lord. I can manage" she replied coldly and finished removing her clothes. With her eyes still fixed on him, she stood naked in the middle of the room and he knew that he was going to be the one to take the next step. Carefully, he removed his clothes, folded them and placed them on the table by the door. He took her hand and took her towards the bed. As he attempted to kiss her mouth she stopped him.
"I know my place", she said icily. "I will do my duty, I will not stop you. But do not expect me to love you or enjoy this."
"Very well, let's do our duty, then. I will try to enjoy it, you might want to do the same."
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He had been with very few women after Joanna. Nobody could compare to her. Joanna had been his rock, his foundation, his love, until that deformed creature had taken her away from him. He still missed her with all his heart, and nobody was going to take her place. The few women he had bedded after Joanna had been greedy highborn ladies in search of a fortune and a castle. He had never resorted to whores, he left that for his son. So he had never really felt anything for any woman other than Joanna. Yet this woman lying by his side had something that appealed to him. She had looks, yes, but it was more than that. He couldn't really pinpoint what it was that had awaken a sort of attraction to her.
As he watched her sleep naked next to him he started to feel pity for her. She had indeed lost everything she considered sacred: her husband, her children, her house, and now apparently, her last shreds of dignity. She was shaking and trembling in her sleep. Some dream she must be having. He took a closer look at her and could see damage this war had done to her. He could see how tired she was. She had a violent red scar on her back where she had been hit by the arrow at the Twins and her hands were marred for life, especially the left one which she could never fully close nor open. Even in the dark of night he could already see a few strands of grey hair mixed with her thick auburn mane. She had undone the braid and her hair flowed freely over her back. Absentmindedly he started stroking her hair until his eyes closed.
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He woke up at the crack of dawn, as was his custom. He felt a strange soft sensation in the palm of his hands and rapidly opened his eyes when he realized he was resting his fingers on a woman's breast. Catelyn, my wife. Not wanting to disturb her he got up and quickly put on his clothes and left the room. He had many things to do and he would be more efficient if he didn't have to deal with her. Besides, he did not wish for his morning routine to be disrupted. He went to the stables and saddled his horse. He enjoyed riding in the early hours of the morning and breaking his fast on his own by the trees. This gave him the opportunity to be by himself and think without being disturbed. After his morning ride, he headed straight to his solar where he spent the rest of the day looking at maps and pondering on his future, his lands, the war and what this marriage and his son Tyrion's to Sansa could eventually bring him.
Just before nightfall he decided to visit his wife to ask her join him for supper. After knocking on the door and getting no reply, he slowly opened the door only to be knocked in the head by a wooden stool. His wife stood before him, with an ornamental rock statue in one hand and a dagger in the other. She had obviously been planning this attack all day. She didn't give him time to recover from the blow and she lunged at him with the knife slicing through his arm. She then slashed upwards and he felt the skin on his cheek part in two. Before he could get up she ran past him and down the stairs. Is she stupid? Does she really think she can escape? He saw her turn the corner at the landing of the staircase and shouted for the guards to stop her. A guard appeared in her way and she stopped dead in her tracks, yet not fast enough to avoid the fist to her face. As she lay sprawled on the floor a second guard appeared and she curled into a protective ball.
"Stop, don't hit her again" Tywin ordered his guards. "Take her to the Maester to have her face looked at and then lock her in her room. Tell a handmaid to bring her supper and not to leave lady Catelyn's chambers until she has finished every crumb on her plate".
He made his way to his study to see to his wounds. He was not used to letting other people tend to him, and he could perfectly well deal with a bruise on his head and a cut on his cheek. Stupid, stupid woman. He had his supper brought to his study and stayed up reading before going back to their room. He had decided that they would share a room, just like he had done with Joanna.
When he entered the room she was sitting by the window with her back to the door. She was already in her nightgown and her gaze seemed lost in the darkness outside. Slowly she turned around and faced him. Her face sported an angry bruise right below her left eye. Her eyes were red and her face was puffed.
"What you did was stupid" he told her coldly, "don't ever do it again." He traced a finger lightly over her face. "Did the Maester see to your eye?" he asked her more softly. She just nodded and looked down. "What were you looking out the window?"
"Nothing" she replied.
"Well, then I suggest we go to bed. Seeing as you're already in your nightgown let me get my nightclothes."
He walked to his wardrobe and changed clothes. When he turned around she was already in bed under the covers with her face towards the window. He climbed and lay down next to her.
"Good night" he told her as they lay on the bed back to back.
TBC
