Chapter Ten

Tyrion

One of the things that Tyrion Lannister was thankful for was that is o-so gracious and loving Lord Father decreed the Imp of Lannister must be hidden from the judgement of the public eye. Or disgrace, depending on how you looked at the situation. As he moved across his chamber, he once again examined his collection of various and ponderous tomes. Buried inside his room, he spent each night awake and learning through every page of every word. To Tyrion, it was as much of a challenge as any of his brothers duels with swords. Looking up, he decided on a book Maester Creylen had brought in from Volantis on the city's founding after the Doom.

He settled himself in his usual position of his room, it was a snug little corner above the entire floor with all golden tiles spread out beneath him. They were rather large chambers, considering father's cold eyes when he looked at him. "Rather large rooms for one so small, a grave injustice you little imp. These are deserving of someone above you, like…the camp follower of a hedge knight." His sister's words echoed throughout his head. She wasn't so brave since Scar had given her something to remember her little brother by. As he flicked across the page, he reached down to feel the thin and flaky skin beneath his fingers. Yet it always felt full and string as any cat's soft skin to him. Though it was a habit he would need to learn to forget. As his hand looked around for his own companion, it felt no such warmth. He cast a look of fear downwards and then he sullenly remembered.

'Stupid beast,' Tyrion thought to himself as he studied a replica of the first Triarch's banner on the page, 'All he had to do was stay where I told him and he'd still be here, licking my fingers with those big mismatched eyes. It wasn't truly his fault, the idiot didn't know what he was doing. He should've stayed away. Then he still might have an arm.' Tyrion sadly assured himself as he suddenly lost his taste for reading that day. Whenever a servant or guard came for some such reason, important or otherwise, they were afraid of Scar. He knew that much, their eyes that did not hold focus. Their great distance and shaking voices was always present when they were dealing with their Lord's youngest son.

On one such occasion, a fairly new guardsman had strolled into Tyrion's chambers unexpectantly and called him to a Maester's lesson. He should have sensed the danger when Scar had begun to growl at him through that unmistakably low and throaty sound accompanied by snaps of his jaw but the fool paid him no mind. He continued to try and usher Tyrion out of the room, to Scar's dismay. It went so far as grabbing Tyrion by the arm and pulling him up. Scar did not take kindly to that. He lunged out and latched his teeth onto the guard's arm while he screamed all the while.

After his arm had been tended to, Uncle Gerry suggested that scar be confined in the kennels. 'This was a bad idea from the start, they stay in their caves for a reason,' Uncle Tyg had judged. It took all his uncles and half the garrison to restrain him, and Tyrion's constant interference and pleas to leave him alone. Along with his tears. He could hear Scar's snarls echo all the way through the Rock to where he lay in his room, crying himself to sleep. But it was fruitless to consider such things now.

As he flicked the last page over to one entitled 'The Rise and Fall of the Rhino,' he decided that would be enough for today. With a wry smile upon his lips, he set the book aside and hopped down from where he sat onto the floor. He suddenly fancied a stroll and donned a set of leather gloves that had been specially been tailored to his specific standard. Or so Uncle Kevan says. From his earliest days, Tyrion Lannister was aware that his rooms were located deep inside the rocky vaults and caverns buried below the expanse of his father's seat far away from the chambers of his other family members.

Still, it wasn't so bad. It was private, quiet and it meant he was always far away from Cersei. He waddled his way down the all too familiar halls and waved at Horrigan. He had joined the Lannisport guard on his eighteenth nameday and was made a Casterly Guard on his twenty fifth. He preferred daggers and liked to watch the sun set on the western sea. "Lord Tyrion."

"Horr, how have you been?" he asked with an uncertainty. It gave him a certain willingness to know about those around him, it helped Tyrion to understand them. What drove them, and what could break them. For instance, Horrigan had fallen for a wench from 'The Shining Lion,' a tavern in Lower Lannisport, and he feared losing his mother above all else. A shame Tyrion had no power to help the poor man.

"Very good, milord. If you'll excuse me, I have to…er, see Captain Lucas." He said very hurriedly as he moved away.

"Don't let me keep you." Tyrion announced after he was left in the hallway on his own. He considered himself lucky that Horrigan was less defensive about being associated with Tyrion. Others regarded him as a nuisance, some staff looked at him as vermin, and some guards did not even meet his eyes. It took him a while but he suddenly realised that such contempt for him made them uneasy and uncomfortable. That made them easier to bring into his power. On that subject, he knew where he knew he had to go now.

He continued to make his way through the sprawling maze of corridors that he knew like the back of his hand as he finally came to his destination. The kennels of Casterly Rock were overseen by the Master of Hounds, one of the many key positions of father's rigid rule. He created many new position such as 'Master of the Mines' or 'Master of the Armoury,' all answerable to the Lord or Castellan in order to keep the immeasurable size of Casterly Rock under control, otherwise it would consume its owner. Just like Harrenhal.

He walked past the cages filled with snarling black mounds with sharp fangs and loud barks. Occasionally, someone walked by and shut them up in various ways but Tyrion directed his attentions to the front. The current Master of Hounds was called Cylon, a scrawny little stump with an upturned nose and a leather whip. "Milord Imp, what can I do for you?"

"I think you know that. Bring him out, if you please." He commanded, though his voice appeared somewhat shaky.

"Has your Lord Uncle allowed the savage out, little bastard near took my hand off."

"H-H-he will be fine I am sure of it N-Now, bring him out. I am allowed an hour's time with him." He argued but his voice finally broke mid-sentence.

"Milord." He grumbled, as if Tyrion were a pest he was unable to squash, while he trekked off with a set of keys, returning a moment later with Scar fighting profusely on a chain. He was shaking and pulling away from Cylon with his every breath but when he saw Tyrion his big eye lost all its anger, breaking the short metal linked chain and leaping towards his master, arousing screams and curses from Cylon. Tyrion was knocked onto hi back while he moved his mismatched jaw to allow his sandy tongue to drape across Tyrion's own deformed face as he laughed while struggling to stand onto his own feet.

Tyrion looked up to see Cylon staring down at him with daggers. "See he gets back before dusk or Ser Tygett will have my hide…and then I'll have his, Imp." He threatened as he sulked away with the whip still in hand. 'I'll make you regret those words one day,' Tyrion promised himself as he imagined setting Scar on the Kennel master as he ripped his throat out, his throaty screams echoing throughout the air fading into silence bar the sound of dripping blood. And look, there was Cersei by the left and what was left of father to the right.

But it was not the time to concern himself with such matters now, he had few precious hours to spend with Scar before he had to return to his cage. As they walked past the various figures passing through the rocky hallways, Scar acted as Tyrion's own guard growling at any scullery maid or page that dared to be walking down the corridor at that time. He always worried Tyrion when he acted like that, he wanted Scar to be more peaceful so it would be easier to bring him to heel. Though, his last nameday gift from Jaime was a training guide he borrowed to train Dagger. Tyrion knew that at this time there was only one place he could have gone to even bring Scar into a state of compliance. Obedience was another matter entirely.

The gardens of Casterly Rock were built by the first Larron the Lion in commemoration of his victory over a joint Reach and Ironborn invasion, or so the legend says. It was filled with mazes of hedges, blooming flowers and a great glass dorm that existed above it, which was only allowed as it existed at the very top of the Rock. Tyrion knew of a private little corner away from all who tended the gardens. It was here that Scar could finally lost the deep raging fire in his eyes and calm down enough where he would act like any other playful housecat. Except he tended to chase off the housecats that were already there.

Once there, he sprawled his lion's body out on the grass and turned over expecting Tyrion to scratch him there, which Tyrion gladly obliged to. It made him purr a sound that seemed to calm even Tyrion himself down. As he ran his own stunted fingers through Scar's overgrown abundance of hairs, he observed that each of them was thin. Thinner than they should have been, he always had been sickly. Tyrion supposed that was why he had always been angrier than Jewel had been, he was a fighter, he had to be…or he would surely have died.

"That is what makes us similar to each other, boy. It's what also make us different to everyone else." He cooed as he scratched up a little further, earned an enthused purr from Scar who moved his scars in front of his face. If they weren't so mismatched, the scene might even have been cute. "We know we won't get what we want on our own…We shall have to fight for what is ours. Our lives, our rights…" he lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, "…Whatever it is we want. Though, we'll have to concede to their whims from time to time." He lifted his hands from his stomach and patted him there instead as he rose to his feet.

"Come on." He commanded, as he turned to see the bewildered look in his misshapen eye. "You heard me the first time, you great fool. We need to start you training. Get over here." The Beast simply turned his head and started to curl into a ball beneath the sun of the falling summer. "Scar," he repeated much louder and bolder than he would have dared with anyone else, "Come." At that, he was much more willing to get up and trot to Tyrion' side. "Good, now we can begin." He smiled down at him, his eyes betrayed both his confusion and his fear.

Tyrion moved to an open apace and fumbled around his bet for a little pouch containing a collection of little meat chunks. He pulled one out, attracting Scar's attention for the first time. "Alright, now…Sit." He commanded but Scar sat there drooling over the item on Tyrion's hand. ""Scar," he repeated with a temper he did not think he was capable of mustering, "Sit. Down." He seethed as he focused his attention on his eyes. Scar did little at that point until his hind legs bent down to sit before his master. Tyrion smiled at him then. "Good boy, here you go." He admitted as he threw a scrap above his uneven jaw which he nipped it up to devour. In the distance, Tyrion heard the scuffling of people walking by and the clinking of chainmail but he paid them no mind for now.

"Alright, now let's move on. You should be prepared in case Cersei becomes more bothersome than she usually is." He smiled back as he heard a few of the kitchen wenches talking between themselves on the other side of the hedge.

"…And they found her at the bottom 'o a well? Just left there?" a voice raised

"Aye, Seven save her." A second responded whom Tyrion recognised as a 'washerwoman,' whatever they were.

"So, what about the body?"

"Al just left it by the side until the sisters can come for it." The first voice explained. After that, their voices seemed to trail off into the distance and left Tyrion in silence with Scar clawing with himself at the side. Tyrion paid him no mind but the words of the women had suddenly intrigued him. 'Who are they talking about, has someone died?' he guessed so from the way that the women had been talking. He suddenly found the need to investigate further. He turned back to Scar and called the animal to his feet, as he fumbled around trying to balance himself.

Listening from behind corners, he managed to determine the location of this calamity. A well that existed just outside the main gatehouse of The Rock, it was not easy to get access nearby but he had his ways. A small crowd had gathered around a place beside the well but they came and went as quickly as the flies. Tyrion managed to sneak his way past the crowd to find the source of this mummer's farce.

Most whispered prayers to the Seven but what drew his sight was a woman collapsed at the front of a crimson blanket covering a mound. He recognised her as Layra Hetherspoon and beside her with a sullen look in his grey eyes was Ser Tybolt Hetherspoon. 'Strange that they should be looking upset. I wonder what could be…oh.' He thought to himself as he saw what lay beneath the cloak. Their first and only daughter, Melara. Tyrion had always thought she was a pretty thing with her freckles and deep, black hair. All the taunts she had shared with Cersei over Tyrion were forgotten in a heartbeat when he saw her cold, lifeless eyes and the dark water flowing from the corners of her lips.

As before, stable hands and serving girls disappeared and eventually even her mother was forced away by her husband but Tyrion simply stood there with Scar by his side. No doubt the Silent Sisters meant to come for her body at some point, but before then, Tyrion thought he should at least attempt to get a closer look at the girl. It was a simple matter in all truth, she simply had an accident and drowned in the well. An unfortunate circumstance yet hardly an unrealistic one, she was not the brightest of Cersei's companions, but that still did not sit right with Tyrion for one reason or another.

He felt the need to investigate the body further, but the sight of it still unnerved the Imp of Casterly Rock. Cautiously, he took a step forwards but pulled it right back when he felt the squelch beneath his feet. 'It's nothing,' he told himself, 'It's just a body. Nothing to be frightened of.' Though he felt more assured in his position when he felt the familiar feel of Scar's fur beneath his fingers.

A little braver now, he took another step forward and ignored the soft ground beneath his foot. It was only Scar's sniffing that brought his attention there. For some reason, eh seemed curious about Melara's foot. "Scar," Tyrion hissed, "Get away from there! You'll get us into even more trouble!" he plead silently so no one nearby would hear but Scar pinched the blanket between his teeth and pulled up and began to sniff at Melara's sagging thigh. He moved his nose up and looked at Tyrion.

Strange, it was almost as if he wanted Tyrion to come and inspect the area nearby. He chose to oblige Scar and see what he had discovered for himself. His nose was pressed into an area near melara's ankle and when Tyrion knelt down to inspect it further, eh discovered something much more peculiar than he could ever have anticipated. Tyrion saw a series of little pores that were dug into her ankle, they almost looked like bite marks and when he looked over at Scar's mouth he saw that the order of teeth did not match up, yet they were close enough. 'No, no, no. That's ridiculous, but it is the only other logical solution. Jewel must have…"

Cersei

"…Bit her by the leg and sent her tumbling into the well. It's what happened, I know it, how can I deny it?!" She thought to herself as she paced across her chambers in her mud stained dress, fumbling around with her shaking fingers which threw back her messy and tatted golden hair. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, harder than it ever had before, at any moment it could burst and there was nothing she could do to stop it from coming. She shot a glance towards Jewel, 'a killer,' who was occupying her time by licking the mud from her paw. Cersei looked directly at her now with the embers from her fireplace crackling between them as night descended on the Westerlands.

"I hope you don't plan to just sit there and do nothing!" she whispered at her, yet still loud and sharp enough for her to hear. Her little Jewel simply looked at her as if she had done nothing wrong with those sweet, innocent eyes of hers that accompanied her cocked head. To add further insult, she gave a sound that resembled a whine, but was more like a mewling sound that she knew Cersei was unable to resist.

"You must think this is all one big game, but it is more than that. Melara, the simple minded fool, all she could have been is now gone, all she wanted to be has vanished." She had made those criticisms at Jewel and to herself as she said them to herself hoarsely. She just couldn't bring herself to understand it, she was a sweet and innocent creature. She sat and purred under Cersei's commands, her fur was soft and her eyes soft.

There was not an inch of malice in those eyes of hers and yet when she turned her back to Melara all she heard was the flapping of their skirts in the wind, then he heard Jewel's soft purrs turn to a low growl but Cersei had paid them no mind until she heard Melara's indiscernible whines and mumbling. She kept her emerald eyes focused on the distance and the words that had been spoken to her by the wood witch. Then the sudden roar that made her jump from her trance and the snap, as she spun her head around she saw Melara's bleeding leg fall into the nearby well accompanied only by her unending screams. Until they did end, that is, as they were preceded only by the splash, the gurgles and the faint screams and peas for help.

Even now, Cersei could still hear her high pitched shrieks vividly, as if she were still there, she wanted to do something, get some rope, call one of her father's guardsmen, anything yet she found that she was unable to move her legs by even an inch. Eventually, the gurgles that echoed off the edges of the well ended and she found the courage to move over step by step. Cautiously, she peered over and gasped at the sight of melara's cold, pale eyes staring up at her. It was like a horrible nightmare that she found herself unable to wake up from. All she could push herself to do was let out a gasp, almost a shriek but it was not the same. She still kept her composure, she was still a lioness of the rock and the daughter of Tywin Lannister. Melara should not have concerned her, yet the thought of her pale, lifeless eyes still troubled her but not as much as Jewel's innocent ones.

The Lioness still sat beneath her with not a look of hatred in her, her constant and vigilant companion in all things good and ill. Still, at the moment Melara was mumbling Cersei did pick something up; 'If we never talk about it we'll soon forget, and then it will be just a bad dream we had.' There had been sense in what she said and Cersei had seen it but in the back of her mind, a dark thought crept through Cersei's thoughts and manifested itself in her brain. As quickly as it came to her, it left, as she found herself unable to believe that she had even considered such an action. Though, if the only other conduit of their conversation was…removed, forgetting about it could be that much easier. She battled between the recesses of her own mind as she tried to let the thought go but she could not let it go and she found herself frozen to her spot. Then the head aches started.

It was like a dagger on fire, boring into her head, when she raised a hand she found her legs had failed her and she collapsed onto her knees but no matter how painful it got she refused to cry out. She thought she heard Melara but could not even focus on the words echoing through her mind that seemed a thousand times larger than they truly were. Then the images came. She was looking through the trees on her knees. The next moment was a white flash and the next she was looking at melara from her knees and she turned between them as she moved caser to the girl and her flowing blood…closer and closer….and closer and then…Nothing. Her mind blanked for a moment. Slowly, she strained her eyes to open as Cersei rose to her feet with mud stained knees and the taste of blood in her mouth. She heard the echo of jewel's roar as Melara's shriek filled her ears. It was then that she finally understood what had happened and yet she still found herself unable to move by an inch.

As Jewel began to lip the tips of her fingers, she snapped back to her surroundings. 'No, I am in my chambers. Of course. Where else would I be?' She smiled to herself while Jewel moved onto her back and threw her paws around, beckoning for her mistress to scratch there instead. With a heavy sigh, Cersei turned her attention to the task at hand. She had always been able to do this, ever since Jaime brought her to her chambers, it was as if Jewel could tell exactly what Cersei was thinking. As her scratches got slower, she thought that was most unusual when she stopped to consider it. Even when she was falling to her knees, strangely, it was as if she were connected to jewel as if the thoughts of the lioness were intertwined with her own…

Cersei did not have the time to finish the thought as a sudden knock came at the door, Jewel propped her head up and looked curiously at the door with a whine that told Cersei she should not open. "Cersei, sweetling, will you open the door?" came the voice of Uncle Kevan. Cautiously, she went across and opened the door. Peering out, she saw the faces of Uncle Kevan and Uncle Tyg. Accompanying them was the guard her late mother had posted outside her door, as well as several other red cloaks…carrying spears and nets. "Thank you, may we come in?" he smiled at her.

"Yes, of course, of course, uncle." She stepped aside to allow her uncles inside, but only them. Her uncles alone, she reminded herself as she slammed the door. "What can I do for you?" she smiled but something about the way Tyg shuffled between the lionesses' heads on his shoulders unnerved her.

"Cersei," Uncle Kevan finally began after a long and undue pause, "By now you've known that Scar has been…restrained shall we say after that outburst." He explained.

"The Imp's creature. What of him?" she droned as if it were nothing, but her uncles responded only with cold stares, yet they paled in comparison to those of her Lord father.

"Cersei, you know we don't want you talking about Tyrion about that." Tygett responded.

"I do, nuncle." She smiled, while she observed her fingernails.

"He's your brother." Tygett pleaded, as she recalled a similar conversation with her other half.

"I believe you wanted something uncle." She snapped furiously as she looked Tygett straight in the eyes.

"Scar has been locked up and Tywin sent a raven. He fears the same thing may occur with Jewel and has asked us to…ah ha." Kevan began before trailing off but Cersei took his meaning well enough.

"He wants us to lock Jewel up too before she takes someone's hand as well. Or worse, her life." Uncle Tyg finished the statement for him. She couldn't say for how long she had stood there but she noticed it when she was fighting back the tears.

'No, no! I must not!' She told herself as he moved in the way between her uncles and where Jewel lay. The sweet creature simply lifted her head. "No, no, you can't do this! I won't let you!" she screamed at them.

"I told Ty this was a mistake from day one. A lion is no pet, not even for a Lannister," Uncle Kevan whispered to Tyg, "We should've got kittens, Seven Hells, a dog would have been better! And she'll be happier for it besides."

"No!" she repeated, "You can't do this, not Jewel! Jewel didn't bite anyone, she's good and…and, she wasn't there! You leave her alone!" she shrieked as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, jewel knew there was something wrong and clamoured to her side whining and resting her head against Cersei's side.

"I'm sorry, but this needs to be done. Now move aside, sweetheart." Her uncle said as he moved towards her. Cersei stood in front of him and completely refused, but Tyg responded by forcing her aside while Kevan brought out a leash. She continued to scream while Tygett held her. She tried to fight out of her Uncle's tight embrace but it did no good, until Jewel moved to her aid.

She growled at her uncles and lashed out at Kevan, causing him to drop the leash. Tygett released Cersei to attend to his Brother but by then Jewel was moving towards them and growling all the while. It was only a fright, as she knew never to actually wound a Lannister but she scared her uncles all the same. They could have easily drew their sword and buried them in her throat but they knew she would never have forgave them then. She was finding it hard enough as it was to look upon them the same way after this as it was. Cautiously, they moved back. "Cersei, stop her and let us take her." He pleaded but she simply remained silent before Tygett threw his arms up in defeat.

"Fine," Tyg roared, "If you want to keep her here, then we won't stop you but what he does is on your shoulders more than ever. Remember that." He seethed as he stormed off, barking dismissals at the guards outside the door.

"Cersei, you know we love you. And we don't want you to be hurt by them." Uncle Kevan explained with a softer voice.

"You're wrong," she whispered, "Jewel wouldn't hurt any…She's never hurt me; she isn't like the Dwarfs creature. She would never let harm come to me." She pleaded, but uncle gave no response. He just strolled out of her chambers and left her alone. Well, not entirely alone as she was reminded by the noises beneath her. She knelt down to be onto Jewel's level with her own golden eyes boring into her emerald ones. She reached out to run her fingers through her soft fur but met the response of her tongue draped across Cersei's cheek but she could not even bring herself to laugh about it.

She leaned forward to nuzzle her neck and rest her own head there as Cersei's arms wrapped around Jewel's shoulders while she whined and purred to her mistress' pleasure. After a while, she turned her head to face her lioness' eyes. "Do not worry," she said with a smile, although whether it was to assure her or Jewel Cersei did not know, "I will never let anyone take you away from me. No matter what you may have done, you will always belong with me. Do you understand, do you?" she asked as her great protector gave her another long lick across the cheek. "That's good enough for me." Cersei laughed as she cuddled with Jewel once again, holding her beloved companion and pet close to her as they spent the rest of the evening together, cuddling into the silence of the night.