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Chapter 3: Of wolves and hawks

No one made any comment on Tywin's state. It was as if no one even noticed his black eye and swollen lips. Only his brother Tygett seemed ready to say something, but from my seat at the second highest table in the hall, I spotted Kevan's hand on his elbow, how he softly shook his head, and Tygett went back to his own food. Gerion had somehow disappeared.

Depressed as I was, I had decided to find solace with my family. My sisters hadn't seen much of me lately and I soon remembered why : Jeyna, the oldest, was fifteen and as mean as any teenager can be with someone who somehow represents authority ; Daena and Eiline were ten and nine years old, clearly too young to understand anything of my plights. Right now, I was too depressed to wish for love and cute little stories.

I wanted solutions. I wanted to club Gerion on the head. I wanted Lord Paramount Tywin Lannister to replace him with a prestigious, strong, intelligent and sensible match, or I would find one myself at Kevan's next birthday.

I dropped the conservative dresses for something more fitting. My newest dress had more cleavage and, with the tighter waistbands, my maid managed to make my breast look bigger. I asked her for a hairdressing I had seen on some beautiful women at court, put some jewels on and actually stole some perfume from my sister. For once Jeyna, the smiling, giggling and much loved Jeyna would not be the only pretty girl in the family. I would be seductive, spirited, funny, and of course someone would ask for my hand.

Kevan's birthday had been the classical Lannister's family reunion since Joanna's death. Maester Joris had explained Tywin hated to celebrate his own birthday, and since he loathed Tyrion, the next in line was naturally Kevan. It meant Lady Genna would be there, Gerion and Tyrion would make fools of themselves, Tygett and his wife get drunk and noisy, and Kevan and his beloved Dorna would spend the evening trying to keep Tywin from being a sour party crasher, probably by trying to get him drunk as well. That meant I would have a free ride, now that I was old enough not to go to bed with the children.

I discovered with dismay that being fun and pretty was a lot of work. I knew how to be polite, but not how to laugh to the awful jokes of my neighbor, lord Garrison Prester. The man was older by fifteen years and widowed. He had an heir, a girl, which meant I could win the game if I mothered a boy. He was also a trusted vassal of the Lannisters. Surely, Tywin would accept the match and I could learn to live with his jokes.

Or so I thought.

After half an evening, my cheeks were literally hurting because of the false smile I had been feeding the man with. He drank heavily and finally explained to me that his heir, his nephew, was very good at the new game devised by his squires: stone the cat. When I asked about his daughter he answered that "girls shouldn't rule". Obviously, his will would make his nephew or son the heir. I remembered Tywin's advices about not scaring a man. With time and proofs of my abilities, Garrison would understand he needed me and my help.

The man seemed to understand what I was aiming to. He invited me to dance. I accepted nervously, since I wasn't that great of a dancer, but was relieved to discover he wasn't that much better. It was a good thing, wasn't it? A wife should not be shamed for her lack ok grace by her own man. Yes, Garrison was a great idea, even if his insistence that we should keep dancing when a drunken Tygett asked for the Rains of Castamere was kind of weird.

By then he was ranting. His castle was great and strong, and he had vassals and men at arms, and his land produced wine. I knew this brew was famous for being strong but rather disgusting, so I refrained from any comment. He had great horses. He had great dogs. He stepped on my foot, but he had a great armor too. And he was great at jousting! Since I was short of being drunk myself, I was focusing on the fact that a man was actually courting me (which made me feel all warm and proud) rather than on the man himself. When I went to sleep that night, I was beaming with pride and sure of my catch.

Then I woke up with a headache, remembered the whole night, and hoped Lord Garrison would have forgotten all of it. Unfortunately, I discovered when I was called to Tywin's apartments, he hadn't.

"Lord Garrison Prester came to see me an hour ago. Can you guess why?"

His fight with Gerion, three days before, was almost gone from his face. His black eye had gone from blue to brown to a far more discreet yellow.

"I have no idea, my Lord," I lied, more to myself than to Tywin. I really hoped it had nothing to do with me.

"Lord Prester asked me for your hand."

"You mean he asked if he could court me."

"No. I mean he asked if he could marry you. I suspect he is already planning the wedding, actually."

Tywin never smiled. That was known. But people who knew him could say when he was pleased or amused anyway; here, I dare say, he was having all the fun one could have, while I was still trying to choose whether I should be worried or angry again.

"How dare he?" I choked on some less-than-polite words to define him. "I am a Lady! I may not be from a great family like the Prester, but he has no rights..."

"He does. I can give him your hand."

"But I spent the evening with the man! He could at least have... have asked if I agreed! He should have asked you if he could court me, and then at least... at least he could have sent flowers or..."

"Lord Garrison Prester is behaving like the man he is. I thought you were intelligent enough to understand who you were talking with. Now I will have to say no to one of my most loyal followers, just because you behaved like a slut with a man you didn't know."

"I wasn't behaving like a slut," I muttered, yet I knew Tywin was right. I was no Cersei and it was clear, now, that my efforts to be seductive had been mere caricatures of what she could pull off. Tywin waved it off, unconvinced.

"I will say no to lord Prester. But don't be surprise if he tries to... court you. He is not the kind of man who let go easily. I will not forbid it and I expect you will behave like a Lady should. Manage to humiliate him and your reward will be less than pleasant."

"I'm sorry, my Lord."

"You should be. You are still engaged to my brother and I won't tolerate this kind of behavior."

I was astonished. Tywin couldn't be serious! Gerion had made it clear that he didn't want to wed, and I that I didn't want to wed him.

"Yes, you will marry Gerion", Tywin answered to my unspoken question. "Like Lord Prester, I can be very stubborn."

I shut my mouth.
Well, at least, as long as I was to marry Gerion, I was safe from Garrison Prester.

In the next two months, I told myself I should be optimistic. Gerion never paid any attention to me and his relationship with Tywin worsened, though they did not fight again. Lady Genna explained during one of her visits that her brothers had never quite got along.

"You see, Tywin was sixteen at Gerion's birth, and twenty when he became Hand of the King. He had always been very protective of us and couldn't bear to be away while our father was "spoiling" his littlest brother. He managed to get Gerion as his squire and probably did his best. Only Tywin's best usually turns him into some kind of over-expecting, insufferable tyrant. Gerion fought back, and now they're still stuck at playing bad-father-bad-son." She shrugged, drank a glass of wine and concluded: "I don't think this will ever change, anyway."

I wondered if Genna suspected anything regarding my wedding to Gerion. She was certainly more outspoken when it came to her family, but she gave no other hint. On the contrary, Lord Garrison was very clear about his intentions.

He left Casterly Rock three days after Kevan's feast. Two days later, I received a letter, then another one at the end of the week. Both were long, detailed tales of Lord Garrison's days and clumsy attempts to woo me. Keeping in mind Tywin's order to be proper, I answered with a short, very polite letter, hoping Garrison would understand and drop the matter. He didn't and I received a gift instead, right from the hands of one of his squire. The young man had had strict orders to deliver it only to me, as if Garrison feared Tywin would "put himself in the way of our love". The package contained honey sweets dripping with sugar. I ate one in front of the squire and gave the rest to my maids.

I tried to delay my answers, but Garrison did not and kept a steady rhythm of one letter and a gift per week, even when I didn't write at all for two weeks. He came twice at the Rock, once with a warning which allowed me to visit Fairkeep on the very day of his visit, and another one, unannounced. He could not see me since I was "sick with a very contagious form of flue". Of course, I was just being too much of a coward to get out of my room and confront him.

After a month, he tried again to get Tywin's approval. The Lord of the West rebuked him, then ordered me to put an end to the situation, again without insulting Garrison. I sent Garrison a mild, polite and, I hoped, clear letter stating that I wasn't interested, all in veiled and kind words. Obviously my words were clear only to me, for he sent me a fancy, jeweled necklace, a set of ribbons and the promise that he would come and visit soon. I wanted to bang my head against the walls of my room but I was certain that things would get better. Tywin would finally convince Gerion to be sensible, Garrison would understand I was already promised, and all would be well. That's how I learnt that one should never expect a plan to unravel without incidents.

My sweet illusions crumbled after four months of unstoppable courting from Garrison, when Gerion was put in jail by his brother. He stayed there for one week, the delay needed by Kevan, Tygett and Genna to persuade Tywin that his decision had its faults ("The most stupid, senseless and humiliating choice your ever made for our family", in Genna's words; Kevan was more moderate and, from what Genna reported, Tygett had simply threatened to "Get a sword and hit Tywin's head until it put some sense into him". Like Gerion, Tygett was sometimes very unsubtle regarding his older brother, but unlike him, he restrained himself when in public.). That's how I learnt Gerion was going to be a father.

The girl was fourteen, with plump breasts and long russet hair. She was pretty despite, or perhaps because of a gap between her front teeth. She was one of the serving girls, though I didn't remember her; I should have paid more attention to the servants of Casterly Rock.

"I swear," I said angrily to Genna, "That I won't marry him. Not now, not ever."

I had not dared to say so to Tywin. Genna patted me on the shoulder and asked me if, really, I wasn't expecting too much of men in general.

"She's a fucking serving girl. Why would I want a man who'd rather have a serving girl than me?"

"Because he can't have you, my dear. The girl was available when my brother wanted something warm in his bed, that's all. Many husbands have bastards, you shouldn't feel bad about it: you're not even officially engaged, so it's not insulting to you."

I thought Tywin would call me to talk about this whole affair, but he never did. One morning, I woke up to find him in the yard with his personal guard. He ordered Gerion out of prison and rod off to the Golden Tooth, one of his favorite hunting grounds. He stayed there for two full weeks and, when he came back, Gerion wisely exiled himself to Kevan's household in Lannisport. Not that Kevan was happy to welcome his brother and mistress, but Tywin would not allow Gerion away from his lands.

There was one improvement for me, though: out of patience, Tywin put a definite end to Lord Prester's courtship. Garrison left the castle with a dark, thunderous look on his face. His glare was foreboding: he would make me pay one day. I shivered and retreated to Maester Joris' library, only to hear Lord Lannister had left again during the day, as if he hadn't quite managed to steam out the fury of his brother's treason.

Since I was now sentenced to a life with Gerion, I decided to take interest in his hobbies. I wasn't interested in whoring and it would be highly inappropriate to learn to grab a sword. It left me with ships and hunting, and ships smelled like fish.

I found a knight ready to help me. His name was Ser Tyssel Greenfields. He was related to a lesser branch of the Lannisters by his mother, but his family held no lands apart from a big farm and half a small village in the countryside of Lannisport. He had been squired by one of Tywin's most trusted knights and a part of his household ever since. He looked kind and friendly enough to teach me and was renowned for his capacities with a bow. Yet with all his patience and kindness, I managed to make him run out of it when he tried to teach me how to skin a rabbit. I was hopeless at scouting, could not shoot straight and could not keep my skirt away from thorns and branches. Tyssel finally conceded the truth: I could ride a horse properly, but it was probably the only talent I would ever have that had anything to do with hunting.

Out of desperation, Tyssel got me a hawk. Since the bird would be doing all the work, my protector hoped the result would be less of a disaster. The beast had all shades of grey and looked mean enough to kill every single rabbit in the Western Lands. I think she knew I was more afraid of her than her of me but Tyssel had a strict hand and handled the bird with enough confidence for two.

To my utmost surprise, I actually took a liking in Greywings and falconry. After three weeks I wasn't afraid of the bird anymore and could actually bring some game back to Casterly Rock. My stomach stopped to lurch at the sight of blood and now, when Greywings soared in the air, I could feel the tingle of excitement as I anticipated her dive. I forgot completely the septa constantly following us. I spent less and less time studying and found myself seeking Tyssel for advices. Gerion disappeared from my mind, as did Tywin's shadows in the last days of freedom I had before his return.

He showed up unexpectedly. Tyssel and I were preparing to leave: I had already climbed on my horse's saddle and the knight was handing me Greywings when a chorus of hooves on a paved path disturbed the happy chatters of the Lannister household. Four horsemen came in galloping and stopped in the middle of the yard. It took me a shaming amount of seconds before I finally recognized Tywin.

He was clad in a simple chainmail, not shinier nor prettier than those of his escort. A dirty cloak hung from his shoulder under an out of place wolf pelt. I couldn't remember seeing my Lord with wolf fur, and then it struck me: he had probably killed the animal himself, during his hunting trip; nothing else made sense. An iron helmet covered his golden, greying hair and a scarf of brown wool lazily embraced his neck. He dismounted wearily, like a man who rode for a whole night with no sleep. I had no time to dismount to greet him before he disappeared inside the castle. His men led their and his horse to the stables. Tyssel and I exchanged a long glance.

My knight got on his own horse but, this time, our minds weren't on the hunt. We faked light hearted laughs and interest in our hawks' quest for game, but I suddenly felt like a liar or a traitor. I was missing something, a detail that would reveal an unpleasant truth. I came back to the castle feeling empty and worried.

Tywin got out of bed in the middle of the afternoon. I was called to his room and found him in the same dirty clothes, picking at a cold, half eaten chicken. A quill rested between his fingers, the tip darkened with ink, yet unused.

"I forgot to greet you this morning."

He slowly put the quill on the table.

"Who was that man? With the hawk?"

"Ser Tyssel Greenfields, my lord. He has been teaching me falconry for the past weeks."

"And I wasn't aware. How out of touch I am getting."

His mouth twitched in what could be called a smile, coming from a man who never smiled.

"Falconry. Why falconry ?"

"I fear I am useless at hunting and ships are boring."

"I fail to see why you would take a sudden interest in hunting or ships."

I wished I could forget.

"Your brother is rumored to like both."

"Ah. Dear Gerion. Yes, he likes to hunt. That doesn't make a good hunter out of him."

"I heard…"

"What?"

"I heard he was very talented."

"He can ride a horse. Draw a bow. Stalk a deer. But this is not why I wanted to speak to you. Tomorrow, ser Tyssel will leave for King's Landing, where he and the soldiers coming with him will replace some of my daughter's guards."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Five minutes ago, you didn't know who he was."

Tywin titled his head. Was he amused or merely studying me? He didn't provide the answer himself. I knew this game, when he expected people to answer their own questions.

"You're sending him away because we spend time together."

"You spend a lot of time with Maester Joris as well."

"Then what is the problem with ser Tyssel?"

"You're in love with him. Trust me, I'm doing a favor to both of you."

I gaped like a fish taken out of a river.

"This is ridiculous! He was teaching me falconry, we haven't…"

"Did I say your behavior was improper?" I stayed silent. "You are young and without experience. I am not, and I know you. I am saving you from disappointment and… whatever could have happened. Ser Tyssel will be treated with honor, at the court. Neither of you is being punished. Yet." He stressed the word, almost as if he had taken a quill to underline it on a piece of parchment. "After all, all you did was some falconry. Do you know why I am a better hunter than Gerion?"

Puzzled, I shook my head.

"Gerion is a better rider. Even though I'm a decent shot I have to admit Gerion's eyesight is sharper than mine. He is light on his feet, quick with a bow… but slow to kill. He'd rather let the deer run away. He is happy enough to know he found the beast. I'm happy only when it's dead."

He took a shard of chicken flesh and put it between his teeth with a predatory grin.

"When you are married, I hope you will remind my dear Gerion of this. My patience has its limits and he should pay attention not to push me too far. At the end of the fight, the one who win is the one who goes for the kill."

I shivered and remembered the wolf. Dead, probably rotten somewhere at the Golden Tooth, its skin draped around Tywin's shoulders as a trophy.

"You can go now. I have work to do."

I left the room and immediately set for Ser Tyssel. I knew Tywin was serious. If he said my friend would be gone on the morrow, then he would be. I may never see him again and couldn't bear to let him go without a farewell. Perhaps Tywin was right and I was in love. Perhaps I only felt the attachment of a friend toward another. I found Tyssel in his room, packing his scarce belongings. I drank his image, as if I saw his full mouth and dark brown eyes from the first time, but knowing it would probably be the last. I would probably see him again, but then, his hair or mine may have turned gray with age.

"You shouldn't be there, my Lady."

"You already know?"

"Yes. Lord Tywin interrogated me about the two of us. Thankfully he believed me."

"This is unfair."

Tyssel didn't pause. His hands went from furniture to bag. His never turned to me.

"We are lucky. He is only sending me away. Nothing bad will happen to either of us. Now you should leave. To have you there, alone with me, is highly improper."

"I don't care if it's improper. I don't want you gone!"

He stopped and turned toward me. Gone were the friendly grins and open smiled; his face was as stone.

"Do you know what happen when my Lord is displeased with his family? You saw what happened to Gerion. A week in the cells, then Lord Tywin left to hunt, came back only to exile his brother from the castle, then left again. Everybody here knows he hunts only for the sake of prestige or when he is furious. He went alone. So what do you think? That we should anger him again? Perhaps it's not a wolf that will pay this time."

"And there is worse. A young girl like you may not know what happened to his son Tyrion, last year. No one would dare comment on anything like that. The boy got himself a whore, married her, then his father gave a silver coin to each man of his guard. "Pay the whore," he said, "and give her work." They did. Every single man who was in the barrack at this time. Then he gave a golden coin to his son."

"Now, that is what happens to those who displease Tywin Lannister. He doesn't forget. He doesn't forgive. Whatever we had isn't worth another of his personal crusade against Castamere. I'll go to King's Landing, you'll marry his brother, and both of us will forget we even knew each other once."

He opened the door, a clear sign that he wanted me out. I stormed past him and hoped no one would see my tears.

The next morning, I got to the yard to see him leave. I was only half surprised to find Tywin already there, at the top of the stairs. I stayed by his side, silent, until the twenty men due for King's Landing had left by the great door.

Then, finally, I heard him whisper: "Trust me. You'll thank me one day."

But all I could say as I turned my heels was: "I hate you."