Chapter 8

The Prisoner of Harrenhal

...

Time seemed to slow down. As the boy's body fell to the ground and Vyolet produced the eeriest heartbroken scream. Her bow hit the ground and her knees bent, her body falling too. But just the shock was quickly replaced by the red. She only saw red. Red everywhere. The red of Ellion's blood. The red of Lannister's banners.

Her first scream was followed by another. A roar almost. A lion demanding blood. A dragon ready to breath fire.

Most of the men had been killed or had surrendered, so they stood still watching the girl stood up, taking her sword and running to them. The first one to react tried to swing her sword at her, but she blocked it, turned and beheaded him quickly.

The soldiers yelled angered. Ser Lorch just watched the girl amused. That wasn't the dress of a peasant girl, he noticed, and those weren't the sword moves of an inexperienced fighter.

"Bring her, alive," he ordered the soldiers next to him. A couple had ran to her and she quickly disposed them, by stabbing one in the chest and another in the face.

Vyolet was seized by six men. She blocked the hit of one and cut the face of another but they were too many. A deep cut on her arm made her tumble and screamed but she didn't let go of her sword. She attacked the man that cut her and killed him, but it costed her her stance. A soldier knocked her from behind and two soldiers held her, while another took her sword away.

Vyolet trashed and screamed as she was dragged to Ser Lorch who just watched her amused.

"Ser, the bitch killed seven of our men," one of his men told him furiously.

"I wouldn't announce that out loud," Ser Lorch chastised him. "Aren't you embarrassed a girl this size beat your sorry arses?"

The man looked away angry and embarrassed. Vyolet stopped her thrashing and screaming and glared at Ser Lorch as he dismounted his horse and walked to her.

"You're not a farm girl, are you? No, you're a fine thing," he said, grabbing her chin softly and raising her head so he could watch her face.

Vyolet glared at him before spitting in his face. Lorch wiped his face with the back of his hand, his smile gone, and then slapped the girl so hard it broke her lip and knocked her to the ground.

Arya made a move to run to her but Gendry stopped her. Gendry glared at the men around Vyolet but if they intervened they would all die.

The men behind her quickly grabbed her and made her stood up. Lorch grabbed her face again, this time pressing his fingers hard on her. Vyolet met his eyes still glaring. Despite her broken lip and bruised cheek, the girl didn't look frightened. Lorch hadn't ever seen such a glare, not even from his own men. This tiny girl wasn't afraid of him. Well, he would change that. Lorch smirked.

"Maybe you just need to be broke down like a savage mare," he told her, letting his hand slid down to her neck.

"Don't touch me!" Vyolet yelled, kicking him. She got Lorch on his knee and this bent, almost making him fall. Enraged, the man slapped her again and threw her down to the ground on her back.

"Fine, then here, in front of these shits."

Before she could scramble up, the man fell onto her, grabbing her hands with one hand, the other starting to bunch her dress up. Gendry let go of Arya and ran to Vyolet but a guard raising his sword stopped him. He was about to dodge him when Vyolet yelled:

"Stop! Stop!" Vyolet tried to free her hands but he was too strong. She tried to kick him but he had pinned her. She wasn't afraid to die, but rape...

"I'm a Lannister!" It burst out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Ser Lorch stopped and looked at her. Arya looked at Gendry who looked at Vyolet agape, so Hot Pie and every captured men.

"What?"

"I'm Vyolet Lannister. Twywin Lannister is my uncle, and they've been looking for me for months now. Now get off me or he'll have your head!"

Ser Loche pulled down Vyolet's dress and let go off her hands. He stood up and turned to one of the goldcloaks.

"Ser Kinhey?"

"It's true, my lord. Vyolet Lannister disappeared from King's Landing. She was presumed kidnapped."

Ser Lorch turned to Vyolet again, assessing her. Her dress was dirty and stained with blood but it was expensive and she was wearing real jewels. The tiara she was wearing could have bought armor for a whole battalion. She was a high born lady, a messy one who had probably slept too many days outdoors but a lady nonetheless. But if she was a Lannister, why she fought off them? Why if she was kidnapped didn't help them kill her supposed captors? Something was definitely off about this.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Ser Lorch asked her as the girl scrambled to her feet. "That you just didn't hear that name around?"

"I have plenty of gold."

"That's not proof enough."

Vyolet raised her chin high, looking down at him like he was less than a dirt worm. Cersei would have been proud.

"Will you risk it? If you touch me, or any of this men, Tywin Lannister won't show mercy, my lord. And I'll make sure you deeply regret it I promise you this. And remember: a Lannister always pays her debts."

Ser Lorch gave her a look before bursting out laughing. Vyolet was taken aback by his reaction, but held her head high. This was her last card to play. She prayed it had n't been for nothing.

"You surely are arrogant enough," Lorch replied, looking at Vyolet. Then he gave her a smirk.

"Alright, nobody here will touch you, my lady," Lorch replied. "At least no until we know who you really are. Tie her up, put her in my horse."

Two men beside her quickly grabbed Vyolet by the arms and dragged her to Lorch's horse. Vyolet didn't resist, but glared at the men as they tied her hands and roughly sat her on the saddle. It would be for nothing. Besides, she was planning an escape plan already. King's Landing was a week's away.

Lorch nodded at his men.

"Round up any survivors. We'll take them back to Harrenhal.

Vyolet froze, looking down at him.

"Harrenhal? Are we not going back to King's Landing?" Her shock slipped into her voice and Lorch smiled.

"No, my lady. Tywin Lannister himself summoned us."

Vyolet paled and Lorch smiled sardonically to her.

"We'll find out the truth about you pretty soon."

Vyolet glared at him before looking away. Damn, damn, damn. One way was escaping a crowded King's Landing in the mid of a chaos situation like it was Ned Stark's execution, but it would be next to impossible fled Harrenhal under Tywin's watchful eye.

The Lannister bannermen lined the surviving recruits in a line. They were just ten left. Arya was among them, Vyolet noticed thanking the gods, and Hot Pie, Gendry and Barren, with a nasty cut on his leg. Croll's body was lying next to the fire, and despite their rocky start, despite he only had helped her because she paid him, Vyolet felt sad because of his death. Then, with a startle, Vyolet realized Jaqen wasn't among the survivors nor the dead. None of the three men in fact. Her blood boiled again, her heart squeezing tightly. That cowardly traitor! She thought. He had said he could fight. He had said he would help her. And she had saved him! She had wasted an arrow on him where it could have saved Ellion! She felt her eyes prickle but she just blinked furiously. She wouldn't cry in front of these men. She would rather die.

"Help me!" A voice cried then. It was Lommy, lying on the ground, an arrow sticking from his leg.

"Something wrong with your leg, boy?" A man with Arya's Needle approached him.

"Look at it," Lommy complained, looking at his bloodied leg.

"Can you walk?" The man asked Lommy.

"No. You got to carry me," the boy told him.

The man nodded.

"All right."

He knelt next to the boy, pulling out Needle. He grabbed the boy's hand and as he helped Lommy sit straight, the point of the thin sword went through his throat.

Lommy threw up blood before dying. The man let go of the boy's body and laughed out loud.

"Carry him," the man mocked Lommy and the other men laughed with him. Vyolet glared at them. Oh she hated them. The pack. If Tywin didn't lock her up or shipped her to King's Landing she would killed them.

"We're looking for a bastard named Gendry," Ser Loch told the survivors. "Give him up or I'll start taking eyeballs."

There was a pause. The men kept silence, but the doubt started showing up on their faces.

"You want Gendry?" Arya asked then. Gendry tensed up and looked at the girl and so did Vyolet, but Arya was smarter than¶ all the soldiers there.

"You already got him. He loved that helmet," Arya said nodding at Lommy. Indeed, Gendry's bull's helmet lied just a few inches away of the boy's dead fingers.


The soldiers couldn't touch or hurt Vyolet, by Lorch's orders and by fear of Tywin, but that didn't mean that they couldn't punish her. They stopped the next day to eat and rest for a while since they've been walking all night. Lorch put down Vyolet as he tied his horse to a tree. The girl looked back at Arya who sat under a tree near Gendry, then she turned back to Lorch.

"May I have some water please, my lord?" Vyolet asked him as politely as she could muster. She hoped she could passed some to Arya.

Ser Lorch turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"Some water? You killed seven of my men, my lady. I think not."

Vyolet glared at the man as he took her roughly by the arm, her wounded arm. The girl clenched her teeth with all her might to not scream, but the pain shot through her body.

Lorch looked down at her.

"What's wrong?"

"My arm," Vyolet mustered. "It hurts."

"Well that's not my problem. You're the one who attacked, my lady," Ser Lorch mocked her with a smirk.

"Would you release my hands to tend my wounds, my lord?" Vyolet asked him, adding angrily a: "Please."

Ser Lorch didn't answer, just buffed.

"I am Tywin Lannister's niece. What would you think he would say if you take me to him without my arm?" Vyolet told the man coldly. Lorch turned to her, glaring at the insolent girl. He wasn't sure if she was a Lannister, but if she was and she died from an infection, Tywin Lannister would have their heads.

With a grunt the man took out a dagger and swiftly cut the rope bounding her hands. He then grabbed her arm, causing her a painful yelp and he leaned over the wound.

"It's not infected," Lorch told her, inspecting the wound. "It must be your shoulder. You must have pulled a muscle."

And before Vyolet could add anything his hand descended on her thin shoulder. His hands roughly massaged her shoulder, relieving her muscles. He helped her moved her arm gently and she felt better. That's it until his hands started brushing her waist and the sides of her breasts.

Vyolet stood up, pushing him away.

"I'm a lady, and you're a bannerman to my house," Vyolet spat angrily, glaring at the man. "So keep your hands to yourself or I'll ask Tywin to take them off."

Lorch smirked down at her.

"I was just looking for other injuries, my lady," Lorch lied shamelessly. "You're a bit older for me, anyway."

Vyolet's glare deepened.

"Older? I'm sixteen."

Lorch's only answered was a smirk that chilled Vyolet's blood and angered her so much she felt like she would burst.

"You disgust me," Vyolet spat at the man who only laughed at her.

"Too bad, my lady. I was going to give you some water."


The screams of the tortured men sprung among the melted rocks that adorned the way to Harrenhal. It was a horrible sight, specially for the prisoners who wondered what would become of them.

"Go on!"

"You, keep moving!"

"Bring her about!"

Were the shouts of another Lannister men bringing peasants from nearby villages to the castle.

Gendry stopped looking up at one destroyed column, shocked.

"What kind of fire melts stone?" He asked out loud.

"Dragon fire," Arya replied stopping next to him.

"There's dragons here?" Gendry asked her, looking around.

"No, all the dragons are gone."

"What's that smell?" Hot Pie intervened, his rounded face scrunching up in disgust.

"Dead people," Arya said.

"Move!" A soldier yelled at them and the three kept going.

At the rear end, Ser Lorch closed the caravan. His watchful eyes were on Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie and the others until they were on the lines with the other prisoners. Then, he moved his horse forward entering the castle.

Vyolet held on tightly to the saddle, fearing she would fall and Lorch would attempt to stop it. The way to Harrenhal was a steep narrow road full of stone big enough to break some of her body parts.

Finally they crossed the castle's gates and Lorch stopped on the courtyard where he was met by several servant boys.

Lorch pulled her down the horse roughly and grabbed her firmly by her arm.

"Come here, my lady. Time for a family reunion. Ser Clegane, where is Lord Tywin?"

Vyolet swallowed, terrified, as her eyes fell on a familiar gigantic man. The Mountain, who else, was the one supervising the torture of farmers whose screams filled the melted castle.

Clegane turned to Lorch, his face covered by his helmet.

"He isn't here yet. Who's this?" Clegane nodded at Vyolet.

Lorch smirked.

"A little gift for Lord Tywin."

"He doesn't like them that young."

"No, she's his niece, Vyolet Lannister or so does the girl claims," Lorch replied.

Vyolet swallowed as she felt Clegane's dark eyes on her. If he recognized her from King's Landing, he didn't say.

"Here's not here yet."

"Oh well, then I'll show my lady to her rooms," Lorch said, sarcastically dragging Vyolet away.

Vyolet turned around a last time, seeing Arya, Gendry and the others being conducted to the courtyard where the prisoners being tortured were. Her heart raced with fear but she tried to look composed and self assured as she faced Lorch.

"My lord, my friends-"

Lorch stopped suddenly, turning to her. His eyes glared at her.

"I don't think you understand me, my lady," Lorch told her coldly. "You are a prisoner here. If they haven't fucked you and killed you yet is because we don't know if you're a Lannister. Until then, I advise you to keep your mouth shut or I'll volunteer your friends for a little interrogation."

A jarring scream then rang as if emphasizing his words. Vyolet just glared at the man with all the hatred she was capable of. She would kill him, Vyolet decided then. She would kill him and let him suffer.

Lorch took her to a nearby tower. He found an empty room and threw her in. Vyolet turned to him, glaring a last time.

"Oh and I think one day more without food or water will suffice to repay for the men you take from me," Lorch told her. "Good day."

And the man closed the door leaving her alone, with just the outside screams filling the silence.


Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie were pushed on a horse's pen filled with other prisoners while just a feet away a man was screaming his heart out in pain.

"Please, please! No, no! NOOOOOO!"

The man screamed until he died.

"He's dead," an old woman then tell Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie. Her eyes were red rimmed and her face looked like she was already a cadaver. "He was my son. My sister was three days ago. My husband, the day before that."

"They take someone every day?" Gendry asked her softly. The woman nodded slightly.

"Does anyone live? Arya asked.

The woman didn't answer. The growing number decapitated heads on the walls of Harrenhal was answer enough.

That night, as the rain felt on them, Arya lied on the muddy cold ground looking at the sky, repeating the same names, over and over.

"Joffrey. Cersei. llyn Payne. The Hound."

Her prayer was interrupted by the old woman from before asking Polliver, the man in charge of making sure they didn't escape, for a bit of food. Polliver just punched the woman down.

As Arya looked at the sky again she added his name to her list.


The tower was cold and wet. The roof had big holes on it where rain felt, making puddles around Vyolet. The room was bare except for a wooden old table and chair and empty candlestick.

Vyolet was thisty, was starving and was so cold that hadn't been able to feel her toes since Lorch had locked her in this tower. But she didn't cared. She had tried climbing to the window before realizing it would be impossible. She had tried to use her powers to fly herself there, but she hadn't been able to leave the floor, she had made herself trip over and scratch her hands. And then she had tried to piled up the table and chair so she could reach it but she could even move the heavy table on her own. So she had just pounded in the door for an hour, before the exhaustion and the hunger defeated her.

The screams finally stopped when it got dark, but her stomach kept twisting thinking they may had killed Arya and Gendry already. She kept praying to the gods over and over to keep them safe and to helped them, somehow...

The door then opened and Vyolet jumped to her feet, grabbing the empty chandelier instinctively. She almost dropped it when she saw who it was.

Jaqen H'ghar, in a Lannister armor, smirked down at her.

It was almost like that moment at the battlefield. She felt anger and hatred filling her body and the girl saw red.

"You... You! You treacherous bastard...!"

Vyolet jumped to Jaqen, ready to hit him with the candlestick to a pulp. But in the wink of an eye, Jaqen had twisted the chandelier out of her hand and had turned her around. Vyolet started to trash around so Jaqen quickly, twisted her arm behind her back and pinned her to the table with a thud.

Vyolet felt fear filling her but she didn't stop trashing, trying to kick him.

"Are you going to rape me?" Vyolet spat angrily. She twisted her arms with all her strength but he held her firmly in place.

"A man would never do such a thing," Jaqen replied calmly and she swore he sounded indignant. "He's just trying to stop a girl from hurting herself."

Vyolet threw a kick but she didn't hit him.

"Lovely girl, please stop," Jaqen replied, amused. "If you promise not try to kill a man, he would release you."

Vyolet puffed, angrily. She looked around for something to throw at him but she didn't found anything. Besides he clearly was faster and stronger... It wouldn't hurt to hear his excuses. She could try to escape then...

"Fine. Let me go," she replied angrily.

Immediately Jaqen let her go and Vyolet straightened and stepped back to the other side of the room, far away from his hold. Vyolet glared at him, as she rubbed her redden wrists.

"Why are you here, Jaqen? I thought you've ran away," she spat angrily. Jaqen didn't look at all concerned of her anger.

"A man said he would not forget a girl's kindness," Jaqen said softly. "He has not. A man brought food for a girl and would give her the help he promised."

His words worked on Vyolet. She opened her eyes wide, her anger slipping away.

"The help? Help me escape?"

Jaqen bowed his head.

"If a girl wishes to."

Vyolet smiled, hope filling her soul.

"Yes, of course! Thank you, Jaqen! Let's go. Arya and the others are on the courtyard..."

But Jaqen stopped her on her way to the door.

"A man didn't mean now, sweet girl," he told her, shaking his head.

Vyolet frowned, confused.

"Then when?"

"A girl must be patient."

"Patient?" Vyolet snapped, anger returning to her quickly, as if it have never left. "They could kill them at any moment! Don't ask me to be patient!"

"A man can help a girl escape tonight, but not her friends," Jaqen told her matter-of-factly. "She would have to leave them behind."

"I cannot do that!"

"Then a girl must wait," Jaqen said, stepping closer to her. "A man would help her and her friends escape when the time is right."

Vyolet's frown deepened.

"But, they could die..."

Jaqen gave her a look that it was a mix between understanding and compassion. He smiled lightly.

"All of us could die at some point, lovely girl."

As if life wanted to prove Jaqen right a heart-wrenching scream cut the silence then. Vyolet turned to the window, biting her lip, and twisting her hands.

"A man promises no harm would befall a girl's friends," Jaqen's voice interrupted her thoughts and Vyolet turned surprised.

She nodded.

"Thank you, Jaqen."

The Lorathi bowed his head again.

"Now a girl must eat," he said and bent to retrieve a large brown bag on the floor. He must have dropped it when Vyolet attacked him but the girl hadn't noticed.

"I'm not hungry," Vyolet replied as he pulled out a roll of bread, wrapped in a cloth.

"A girl hasn't eaten in three days," Jaqen replied handling her the bread. "A man knows she's hungry."

Vyolet frowned, confused.

"How do you even know...? Forget it," she replied sighting, taking the bread and letting herself fall onto the chair. Of course he knew she hadn't eaten and who knows what else. This man seemed to know everything. She would be more concerned about that if she wasn't worrying about Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie.

As Vyolet unwrapped the bread, and bit into it, Jaqen pulled out a copper cup out of the bag and then a waterskin. He filled the cup and put it in front of her. Vyolet swallowed the bread, grabbed the cup and stared at the water. She was the prisoner now. She remembered that night when she had offered him the water. Ellion had been concerned for her. He was always worrying about her...

"Ellion is dead," she told Jaqen. "The blonde boy."

Jaqen stopped and looked at her.

"A man knew him. It was the boy a girl loved," he replied softly.

Vyolet nodded then grabbed the cup and took a big sip. How she wished it was wine.

"I did. And I never told him. Not really," Vyolet bit her lip and looked up at Jaqen. The man had an unreadable face but right now it was soft and his eyes looked empathetic of her pain. Vyolet sighed.

"He asked me to marry him, you know? And I said no because... How could I marry a servant boy? I told him and myself it was just practical but I couldn't tell him the truth. Now he's gone..." Vyolet's voice broke at the end, and she looked down. She wouldn't let Jaqen or anyone to see her tears. She wouldn't crumble down, but the pain was growing with each moment, suffocating her.

The Lorathi stared at her but a moment, letting her compose herself and then walked around, placing the bag on the floor. He knelt next to her and she looked up at him.

"A man is sorry for a girl, but starving herself won't bring the boy back," he told her.

Vyolet sighed and pushed the rest of the bread to her mouth quickly.

"Are you happy?" She asked Jaqen, her mouth full of bread. Manners be damned.

Jaqen smirked, amused. He grabbed the bag and pulled out an apple. He handled it to her and Vyolet stopped gobbling down the bread, staring at the red fruit. For the first time in three days, the girl smiled.

"You are full of surprises, Jaqen H'ghar," Vyolet told him, grabbing the apple.

Jaqen smiled at her reaction and stood up, leaning on the table next to her.

"Will a girl tell her name to a man?"

"Can't you figure it out? You're so smart after all," Vyolet teased him, with a sly smile, biting into the apple.

Jaqen's smirk widened, staring at her.

The girl chewed and swallowed the apple.

"Vyolet," she told him.

"Vyolet," Jaqen repeated. "You should rest. It would help your grief."

Vyolet was about to bite into the apple but stopped.

"I..."

She glanced at the door with apprehension. Lorch had said no one would touch her until Tywin arrived but she didn't trust much his authority in Harrenhal or him for that matter. She was exhausted but wouldn't sleep in case some drunk soldier decided to pay her a visit during the night.

Jaqen caught her scared glance and bent to grab the bag on the floor. He pulled a thin brown blanket out of it and handed it to her. The tower was too cold and she didn't have her cloak anymore.

Vyolet took the blanket and looked up at Jaqen.

"Do not fret, lovely girl, no one would enter this room. A man would make sure of it," he assured her, with a bow of his head.

Vyolet smiled at him thankfully and wrapped the blanket around her. Jaqen bunched up the empty bag and placed it on the table as a pillow. Vyolet put down the cup he had brought her and lied on the table, wrapping the blanket tighter around her.

"Sleep well, lovely girl," Jaqen said, before walking to the door. He caught a sight of her smile as he left.

As promised, he leaned on the closed door, guarding her sleep but he heard her. She cried and sobbed until the sedative in the water he gave her kicked in. Then, there was silence.


Vyolet had never slept so bad in her life. Not even when she was traveling with Yoren. She was cold, her whole body hurt and she felt emotionally drained. As soon as she opened her eyes and stared at the crumbling roof her first thought was about Ellion and Yoren. She thought about her mother and Esthis. It felt so far away though, as she had never lived that life. Like she had just dreamed about them and had just woke up.

There was a knock on the door and Vyolet immediately jumped down from the table.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Jaqen walked in, carrying a tray with food. He walked to the table and placed it down.

"Did they order you to be my maid?" Vyolet asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Jaqen turned to her, smirking softly.

"They ordered a man to starve a girl. Should he do it when a girl didn't let a man starve?"

Vyolet smiled softly and sat down at the table. He had brought her porridge, two pieces of bread and milk. How on earth he had managed to bring her all of this on a tray without being noticed? She didn't care much at the moment, Vyolet thought as she took a spoon of the porridge.

"A man brought something else for a girl," Jaqen told Vyolet, pulling out a small book out of his pocket.

Vyolet took it surprised. The pages were yellow and it had a stale smell. She looked up to Jaqen, puzzled.

"Loneliness can be an awful thing... Especially on these circumstances," Jaqen replied, shrugging.

Vyolet nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat difficulty. Jaqen had just repaid her kindness ten times already.

"How are they?" Vyolet asked him. "Arry, Gendry and Hot Pie."

"They live. They're outside in the courtyard."

Jaqen waited for her to finish her breakfast before taking the tray away, promising to come back with news about her friends. Vyolet sat back and started reading the book, thankful to have something to take her mind out of the horrible thoughts. Unfortunatelly the screams soon resumed and got louder and louder, drowning the words in Vyolet's book.


The Tickler, the man torturing the prisoners, had just finished killing another man. Polliver cut of his head and a servant nailed it to the pen where the prisoners were held.

Ser Clegane then walked to them, ready to pick another victim.

Gendry, Arya and Hot Pie stood up close to each other, staring at the ground, waiting for Clegane to choose.

"You."

The three kids looked up, as Clegane's fat big finger pointed at Gendry.

Arya stood back, horrified, as two guards dragged Gendry away from the pen and to the chair where so many men had died already.

Arya couldn't do or say anything. She would only get them both kill. She stood back as the guards tied Gendry to the chair and the Tickler approached him.

"Is there gold or silver in the village?" The Tickler asked the boy.

"I'm not from the village," Gendry replied as calmed as he could. He stared back at the Tickler, showing him no fear.

"Where is the Brotherhood?" Asked the Tickler sitting in front of Gendry.

"I don't know what that is," the boy replied.

The Tickler nodded at the guard who picked a new rat and placed it on a bucket. The man opened Gendry's shirt, leaving bare his belly, and place the bucket against it.

Gendry took a deep breath, ready to accept his death when hoof beats interrupted them.

Tywin Lannister crossed the opened gates of Harrenhal, followed by his guard. He crossed the courtyard, noticing the prisoners and directed his horse until he stood in front of them.

"What's this?" Tywin asked the Mountain as a guard held Tywin's horse and the man dismounted.

"We weren't expecting you till tomorrow, Lord Tywin," Clegane told him with a bow.

"Evidently not," Tywin replied sarcastically, approaching him, looking down at the all had feel to their knees except for¶ Arya, who stood frozen.

"Why are these prisoners not in their cells?"

"Cells are overflowing, my lord," Clegane replied.

"This lot won't be here long," Polliver intervened with a bow to Tywin. "Don't need no permanent place. After we interrogate 'em, we usually just..."

He pointed at the several nailed heads.

Tywin walked around the prisoners, clearly displeased.

"Are we so well-manned that we can afford to discard able young bodies and skilled laborers?" Tywin interrupted him, staring him down.

Polliver didn't reply. Tywin noticed Gendry tied down to the chair and walked to him.

"You, do you have a trade?" Tywin asked the boy.

"Smith, my lord," Gendry replied.

Polliver then noticed Arya was standing and looking at Tywin.

"What are you looking at? Kneel!" He yelled at Arya, pulling out his sword.

Arya stepped back quickly, her eyes wide in fear.

"Kneel or I'll carve your lungs out, boy," Polliver told Arya, pointing his sword at her.

"He'll do no such thing," Tywin intervened walking to the pen, surprising both Polliver an Arya. "This one's a girl, you idiot, dressed as a boy."

Tywin looked Arya up and down, assessing her.

"Why?"

"Safer to travel, my lord," Arya replied quickly.

"Smart," Tywin recognized. "More than I can say for this lot."

He looked at Polliver and at Clegane angrily.

"Get these prisoners to work. Bring the girl," he added looking at Arya. "I need a new cupbearer."

"My Lord."

Both Clegane and Polliver bowed their heads.

"And I heard you found my niece," Tywin told Clegane. "I'd like to see her now."


The tower's door opened with a boom, scaring Vyolet out of her skin. She quickly dropped the book to the ground, noticing it was ser Clegane instead of Jaqen.

"Lord Tywin arrived sooner than expected. Come on."

Vyolet didn't dare to disobey or escape. She knew the Mountain. He could break her in two like a toothpick. Besides it was better follow him than let him drag her.

Clegane took her to Tywin's council room in Harrenhal. It was a big room with holes in the walls, dark and gloomy. Except for the burning fire. Clegane knocked before letting her pass.

"My lord."

Vyolet walked in the room with all the grace and dignity she could muster in her state. She noticed ser Lorch was sitting at the table smirking at Vyolet, next to Tywin. The man stood up surrounding the table and walked to the girl. She hadn't seen much of the girl these past years, but beneath the dirt and disarranged appearance of the girl he saw Aerys eyes looking back at him.

Tywin smiled softly.

"My dear Vyolet, long time no see."

Lorch's smile faded as soon as those words left Tywin's mouth. As Tywin inspected Vyolet's dreadful state Lorch understood he had fucked up. Big time.

"Welcome back uncle," Vyolet replied with a dainty bow. Tywin's eyes caught on the bruises on her face and the man placed a hand beneath her chin, raising her face softly to him.

"Ser Lorch," Tywin said.

"Yes my lord?"

Lorch made a bow almost to the floor. Gods help him.

"Did my niece fell from her horse?" Tywin asked him coldly.

"My lord?" Lorch replied confused.

Tywin turned his face to him, glaring down at the man.

"I'm just wondering since her face is all bruised up. I can't possibly imagine my bannerman hitting a defenseless girl, especially my niece."

"She killed seven of my men, my lord," Lorch replied quickly. "And we didn't know it was your niece. She wasn't defenseless when we found her."

Tywin's stare shut Lorch's pleas.

"You know now," he replied and then frowned looking at Vyolet and then at him. "Seven? My niece killed seven of the soldiers I paid to train? And you were killing manpower outside, ser Clegane."

Vyolet had seen regularly Tywin at Casterly Rock and she knew he wasn't a man to be trifled with. But now he was livid. If he didn't kill Lorch, she would be surprised.

Then a knock on the door interrupted them and a servant girl entered, followed by two guards.

"Mi lord?" The girl and guards made a deep bow.

"Yes. Come on in," Tywin replied, gesturing at them. "This is my niece Vyolet Lannister. You will serve her from now on. You and another two girls of your choosing. Prepare her a hot bath and fetch her a more dignified dress than the rags she's wearing. Something warm. Also, bring her something to eat," Tywin ordered the girl who made a deep bow before leaving the room quickly.

Then Tywin turned to the guards.

"You two will now accompany my niece. She's not to leave Harrenhal until I say so and she's forbidden from sending any type of message. If you discovered she's trying to send one, kill the messenger."

Tywin's message to Vyolet was loud and clear. She looked down, glaring at the floor.

"You will also protect her," Tywin continued. "I don't want to see her face in this state ever again. How many times ser Lorch hit you, Vyolet?" Tywin surprised her by asking.

Vyolet looked up at her uncle and then at Lorch. She hated both men right now, but she didn't hate Tywin as much as Lorch.

"Three slaps, on the face," Vyolet responded, glaring at ser Lorch. The man glared back but he was more scared than angry.

Tywin turned to the Mountain and nodded.

"Ser Clegane."

The Mountain stepped to ser Lorch and a colossal slap sent the man to the floor. It was more of a punch actually. Vyolet saw a teeth flying out and felt a sick satisfaction. The Mountain picked up Lorch like a ragged doll and hit him two more times. Lorch's face looked purple, he had lost at least three teeth and both his eyes were swelling up. He was lucky though. The Mountain hadn't killed him.

"Now leave us, both of you. I'll talk to you later," Tywin ordered. The Mountain made a bow and dragged Lorch out.

Tywin waited for the door to be closed before walking to the table near the wall. He grabbed a jug and poured water on a cup, then turned to Vyolet and handled it to her.

"Here."

Vyolet took it.

"Thank you," she replied before taking a small sip.

Tywin watched her closely.

"You should be dying of thirst and I doubt my men gave you water seeing your state. Who gave you water?" He asked her.

Vyolet stared down at her cup, fearfully, but trying to control her facial expressions. There was no way she would rat Jaqen out and threw away her only chance to escape.

"No one," she replied innocently.

Tywin looked at her, before stepping away from her, giving her space.

"I'm not going to hurt them. If anything I'll reward them," Tywin assured her, but Vyolet knew better than to trust a Lannister. She herself was one.

"I don't who he is," she lied smoothly. "He just brought me food and water in a sack before closing the door. I couldn't see his face."

"But it was a he," Tywin replied, slyly.

Vyolet nodded. She doubted he could find about Jaqen with just that information.

There was another pause. Vyolet was praying for the servant girl to return for her quickly. On her way here she had seen the prisoners being released and put to work but she couldn't be sure her friends hadn't been thrown into a dungeon. She needed to find out.

"Did my men... hurt you?"

Tywin's question and the softness of his voice took her by surprise. The girl looked up startled.

"They hit me," she replied.

"Yes, that's quite clear. However I didn't mean that kind of..."

"I still have my... virtue intact. If that's what you're asking, uncle," Vyolet interrupted him.

"Good."

"But they touched me."

Tywin looked at her, his eyes turning cold.

"Give me their names. If Polliver is so eager to torture men, I'll give them a few useless ones."

"I don't know their names."

She wasn't protecting Lorch, but she wouldn't let Tywin kill him. She would kill him herself for all the times his hands had found their way into her body.

"Well, when you see them just tell ser Clegane, alright?" Tywin told her and Vyolet nodded.

Then, a there was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

The servant girl from before entered the room making a bow. Vyolet thank the gods for this encounter to be over.

"Mi lord. My lady, your bath is ready."

Tywin nodded, looking at Vyolet.

"Go child. I don't want to see you until you have eaten something and rest... Vyolet, which room did they give you?"

"It was a tower. The one in the north I think."

Tywin looked at Vyolet and then at the girl.

"Girl, prepare my niece a room on the east wing, if you please."

The girl made another bow.

"Mi lord. Come, my lady. This way."

"Vyolet, one last thing," Tywin stopped Vyolet as she was walking to the door. Vyolet hesitantly stop and turned to him.

"I'm sorry my men treated you this way. I swear to you they will never do such a thing again," Tywin told her, firmly. Despite her hate towards the man, Vyolet felt safe already, at least on that regard.

Vyolet nodded.

"Thank you, uncle."

"But never try to escape again," Tywin warned her, sitting down at his table pulling out his quill and a paper. He gave her a look.

"For your sake and your friends'."