The Assassin
"Are you telling me that one of my best commanders failed to defend himself and his battalion against a night assault from a small contingent of the Stark boy's army?" demanded Lord Tywin in a dangerously low voice of Ser Amory.
"Lord Warrick's scouts didn't see Stark's men until it was too late. They should have the blame, not Lord Warrick," insisted Ser Amory, but he faltered slightly under the Lord of Lannister's burning glare.
"There is little point in assigning blame now that they are all dead," muttered Lord Tywin rising.
"That hill tribe leader succeeded in wiping out the reinforcements that were on their way from the Riverlands," offered Ser Kevan.
"I should have told him to spare some of them for questioning. There has been no news of my son recently," said Lord Tywin, resting his hands on the table for support.
"We could launch a swift attack at his main host," began Ser Amory but a look from Lord Tywin silenced him.
"I will not thin our ranks any further without better information from the scouts. I have half a mind to put them all to the sword and promote new ones," growled Tywin.
"Perhaps we should relocate to King's Landing then my lord," suggested Lord Hugh gently. "Our army may be put to better use defending the city against Lord Stannis."
Lord Tywin gave him a measured look.
"If we leave now it will look like a retreat," argued Ser Amory.
"I agree that we should not surrender the field so easily but since maintaining control of King's Landing is the paramount goal, I believe we should secure that before chasing after Robb Stark," reasoned Lord Hugh.
"With all due respect to your daughter, the Queen, it is clear she would benefit from your immediate presence at court," continued Lord Hugh.
"That's enough Hugh," snapped Lord Tywin, sitting down again.
"There is another report that Robb Stark is marching toward Casterly Rock," murmured Ser Kevan quietly.
"I read the report Kevan," answered Lord Tywin, tiredly.
"Perhaps it would be prudent to…" began Lord Braxton but Lord Tywin interrupted him with an impatient wave of his hand.
"Enough. I need some time to think," said the lion of Casterly Rock dismissively. He rose and walked over to the hearth while his banner men slowly got to their feet and shuffled out.
When they had all left, he braced himself on the mantle with one hand, the other on his hip. After brooding for some time, Lord Tywin became aware of a presence at his side.
"My Lady," said Lord Tywin quietly, acknowledging her but not looking at her.
"My Lord," Lady Ailyn replied, watching the light from the flames get lost in his frown.
She waited for him to speak and when he didn't, she went over to the table and poured them both a cup of wine. Ailyn held the cup out to him silently and after a slight pause, he took it and stood up straight, lowering his other arm back to his side. He met her concerned gaze over the rim of his cup.
"I assume you heard our discussion?" Lord Tywin said, in a way that didn't quite sound like a question.
She paused a moment, considering her reply, but in the end, she nodded.
"Dare I ask what your opinion is on the matter?" asked Lord Tywin, in a tone that grated on her.
"Is that your way of asking me nicely?" she quipped back.
His frown deepened.
Lady Ailyn sighed and said, "I believe you should go to King's Landing and fortify your position from there."
Lord Tywin regarded her for a moment.
"You and Lord Hugh appear to be in agreement on that point," he observed watching her face closely.
She kept it carefully blank.
"Do you disagree?" Lady Ailyn persisted, ignoring his comment about Lord Hugh. She had no desire to get in an argument about how she conducted herself around him again.
Lord Tywin took another sip of wine and watched the flames again for a time.
"I am starting to believe it is no longer in our best interest to stay here. If I decide to leave, King's Landing would be our destination," admitted Lord Tywin slowly.
"How many days away is the capitol?" inquired Lady Ailyn, dreading the thought of once again riding her horse for ten hours a day everyday.
"Four days, if we move quickly," Lord Tywin said, looking back at her.
"I see. And if you did leave for King's Landing, would I accompany you or remain here?" asked Ailyn, taking a drink of her own cup.
Lord Tywin narrowed his green eyes at her.
"I merely wish to know what I should prepare for in the coming days, my lord," explained Lady Ailyn.
"You would follow at a distance, under guard. I will make sure the city is secure before sending for you," spoke Lord Tywin.
She nodded again.
There was another long pause in the conversation.
"Robb Stark is proving more troublesome than you anticipated?" she asked, without malice or sarcasm.
Tywin took another long drink of wine.
"He has been lucky and reckless; and the blasted Gods are smiling on him," growled Lord Tywin Lannister in a way that made her take a small step back.
"My legacy will not be undone by some brazen, untested boy," Lord Tywin nearly spat the last word. He slammed the cup down on the mantel and stalked angrily back over to the opening in the wall.
Lady Ailyn paused in shock for a moment.
"My lord, you surely cannot be worried about that?" she asked incredulously, taking a few steps toward him.
He glanced back over at her.
"What?"
"Your legacy my lord; of all the cares occupying your thoughts, that should be among the last," she insisted, a look of disbelief still stretching her face.
He looked away from her and glared down into the busy courtyard below.
"I do not wish to be remembered as the lion who was defeated by a pathetic wolf pup," he said, more quietly.
She would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea if she thought she could keep her tongue afterwards. Ailyn shook her head and then walked over to him.
She stared at him until he met her gaze.
"You are Lord Tywin Lannister," Lady Ailyn began, deliberately adding weight to each word. "Lord Paramount of the Westerlands; Shield of Lannisport; Lord of Casterly Rock. You have acted as Hand to two Kings. You are father to the Queen Regent and grandfather to the King. It would not be an exaggeration to suggest that you have influenced the politics of the Seven Kingdoms for decades. If not for these or countless other reasons, the people will remember other things about you than how you weathered this one petty war."
"If the people remember," he added in a hollow sort of voice but there was a spark in his eyes she hadn't seen before.
She looked down to her right to gather her thoughts and then back into his eyes.
"Of all the men who have lived and died in the last age, there is no one more worthy of remembrance than you."
Lord Tywin searched her face with such intensity that she took a small step back from him, a little embarrassed by her own feelings on the subject.
"I realize that may not mean much coming from a woman," she began in an offhand voice to lighten her words but he overrode her.
"But it means a great deal coming from an enemy," said Lord Tywin, giving her an appraising look.
A sad smile flashed across her face.
"Maybe someday you will think of me differently my lord," she suggested, briefly glancing at his face.
He made a noncommittal noise in his throat and said nothing.
"I will leave you alone to think my lord," offered Lady Ailyn curtseying to him and turning to go. Lord Tywin opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He merely watched her go to her room and gently shut the door. He stayed standing, staring at her door for a long time after she closed it, not moving, deep in thought.
Much later that night, a log snapped in the hearth, jerking Lord Tywin back to the present. The room had grown dim in the fading firelight and several large candles had guttered out. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and was about to rise when several sharp knocks on his door interrupted him.
"Come," beckoned Lord Tywin, lowering his hand back down to the desk.
The door opened and one of his guards stepped into the room, closing the door swiftly behind him. The soldier moved to stand in front of Tywin's desk, back a few feet from its edge, at met the lion's gaze.
"I bring a message my lord," announced the Lannister guard standing to attention.
"From whom?" demanded Lord Tywin, frowning.
"The King in the North!" intoned the man, a fanatical light gleaming in his eyes.
Tywin's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was then that he noticed the loaded crossbow at the soldier's side. He rose, taking a quick breath to shout for his guards but the imposter leveled the crossbow at Lord Tywin's chest.
"Don't yell, my lord. There is no one to hear you," warned the stranger.
Lord Tywin fixed him with a piercing scowl that most men shrank from. This man did not.
"So the Stark boy has forsaken his family honor and sent an assassin?" growled the lion.
"The King didn't send me. House Stark deserves to sit on the Iron Throne; House Lannister is rotten with corruption. I am doing Westeros a favor by getting rid of its Patriarch," hissed the assassin, his hand never wavering.
"Killing me will not win the war for him," said Lord Tywin in a low voice.
"Perhaps not, but it will certainly make it easier. The Lannister cause will be considerably weaker with you dead," reasoned the man simply.
"You will not live to see my family cast down," snarled the Lord of Casterly Rock.
"Neither will you," replied the assassin with finality, his finger moving to the trigger.
Lord Tywin opened his mouth but before he could speak, a blade flashed across the stranger's throat. His shining eyes opened wide in surprise as he choked wetly on the blood spurting from his neck. A hand reached out from behind the assassin and shoved the crossbow sharply to the right just as it released. With the reflexes of a much younger man, Lord Tywin dove off to the left as the bolt buried itself in the upper right corner of his chair back. Tywin watched in shock as the would-be assassin slowly crumpled to the ground and Lady Ailyn appeared behind him. She was white to the lips, in her night dress and dark blue bed robe, a bloody dagger clutched in her hand.
She glanced down at the dead man and the back at Lord Tywin who was getting to his feet.
"Are you hurt, my lord?" she asked a little breathlessly.
"No. Are you?" he demanded, coming up to her as she dropped the blade.
She managed to shake her head once. Lord Tywin grasped her upper arms and moved her away from the leaking corpse. He put his body between her and the door before bellowing for his guards. Only silence answered his summons. Lady Ailyn put her hand on his arm, her breathing still uneven. Lord Tywin spun on his heel, turned her bodily around and urged her forward toward his bedchamber. She didn't protest but turned on him warily as he shut and bolted the door behind him.
"Bolt the door after I'm gone," he barked striding over to his sword.
"Your armor, my lord!" she exclaimed, taking a step toward him.
"There's no time," he argued, starting to buckle on his sword belt.
"Three minutes for as much as your life is worth. You don't know how many are out there," she snapped back.
Before he could reply, she turned and went for his breast plate. She struggled a little under its weight but managed to pick it up and carry it over to him. Lord Tywin muttered an oath, pulled off his sword belt and shrugged quickly out of his rich tunic. Beneath it, he wore only a plain white shirt which brought out the white in his hair. She helped him into the heavy plated armor as well as she could, buckling the straps as fast as her shaking fingers would allow. When she was finished, she dashed back for his gauntlets. Without waiting for him to raise his arm, she grabbed his wrist and pushed the gauntlet over his hand before bending to lace it up.
"You've done this before?" he asked quietly.
The question caught her off guard and she faltered in her movements, looking up at him.
"Several times for my husband," replied Lady Ailyn softly, helping him on with the other one.
When she was finished, she picked up his sword belt and handed it to him. He buckled it on himself, studying her.
When he was done, Lady Ailyn expected him to dash out the door but instead, he stood in front of her, rooted to the spot, holding her gaze.
"Be careful my lord," she said to break the silence, standing aside.
Lord Tywin was about to say something when a distant scream interrupted him.
"Don't open the door for anyone but me," he ordered, striding out and banging the door closed behind him.
"And what if you don't come back?" she whispered to the empty room. She shook away the thought and went to the door to bolt it. The woodwork around the door frame was rotted; a good kick would probably break it down. Lady Ailyn went over to the heavy table that Lord Tywin's sword had been resting on and, with difficulty, maneuvered it against the door. Then she turned and searched through Lord Tywin's remaining weapons to see if there was anything she could handle. Ailyn cursed him for not having a bow and didn't want to risk returning to her room for her own. In the end, she drew a short sword and sat down on the bed to wait.
It only took about five minutes of listening to the dead silence and the gentle crackling of flames in Lord Tywin's hearth before her conscience started to eat away at her.
House Greystone is supposed to be neutral. We take no sides.
But in this situation, it's only logical to assist the side that's currently responsible for my safety, she argued back silently.
You could have let him die.
He doesn't deserve to die like that.
So you care if he dies?
…
He could end your own life with a snap of his fingers.
He wouldn't do that. There's too much at stake for him to risk my father's anger.
And who would stop him if he decides he no longer cares about your father's anger?
…
You've listened to his council meetings. His men will not say anything to displease him, let alone act contrary to his wishes.
…
He could run you through in the middle of court at King's Landing and no one would dare raise a voice in your defense.
"Enough!" she cried out. She got to her feet and began to nervously pace around the room. Time stopped for her and then stretched on for an eternity before suddenly she heard his voice.
"Get this blasted corpse out of here!" roared the Lion of Casterly Rock.
She let out a sigh of relief and went to move the table away from the door. There were three heavy bangs just as she finished moving the table.
"My lady, open the door," ordered Lord Tywin.
She drew back the bolt and pulled the door open, sword in hand. Lord Tywin and Ser Kevan stood in the doorway, both in battle armor; both with fresh splashes of gore on their breast plates. Lord Tywin glanced down at the sword in her hand and then looked up at her, the corner of his mouth quirking into what she'd come to realize was his smile.
"I just wanted to have something to defend myself with," she explained quietly.
She returned his sword and then moved to help him with his armor again. There was a cut on Lord Tywin's cheek which was bleeding a little, making him look all the more fierce. The fabric on Lord Tywin's upper arm was slashed as well. She quickly looked Ser Kevan over and noticed trickles of blood running over his left hand. Lady Ailyn removed Lord Tywin's gauntlets as Ser Kevan started to pepper his elder brother with questions.
"How did the assassin die?" asked Ser Kevan, flexing the fingers of his bleeding hand.
Lord Tywin glanced over at Lady Ailyn and said, "My lady opened his throat."
Lady Ailyn turned away from them and put the lion's gauntlets back amongst his armor and weapons. When she looked back at them, there was a heated, but silent, conversation going on between the two men.
She cleared her throat and announced, "If it's safe to leave the room now, I'll fetch Maester Doran since you are both injured."
She moved to go but Lord Tywin interrupted her.
"Don't bother. The fool walked into the middle of the fighting without a sword," Lord Tywin informed her.
She stopped and looked at him.
"Felix is dead?" she asked softly.
"I'm afraid so," answered Ser Kevan apologetically.
She turned away from them as a wave of sadness washed over her.
"Lord Hugh, Braxton and Marsh as well as Sers Ryg, Lund and Praed are alive. Ser Amory was not so fortunate," recounted Ser Kevan to Lord Tywin.
Ailyn smiled a little at Lord Hugh still being alive. She turned and walked past them without a word. Lady Ailyn went to her room and began to automatically pull ingredients to make a balm for wounds. She moved without thinking and brought the bottles out into the main room with a large bowl to mix them in. There was a dull rushing in her ears though she did not feel faint. Ailyn continued mixing the balm, if only to keep her hands occupied.
Lord Tywin and Ser Kevan came out into the main room again after a time. Lord Tywin had changed into simple black leather. They were arguing about something; Ailyn didn't care enough to try and figure out what it was. After a time, Lord Hugh himself came in to give a report. A look of intense relief passed over his features when he saw her. As he was turning to go, Ailyn stopped him.
"Are you hurt my lord?" she asked, looking him over.
"No, my lady. I am glad you are unharmed as well," he replied with a warm smile. Ailyn returned it gladly.
When he had gone, she looked back over at the two Lannister brothers.
Lord Tywin was glaring at her and Ser Kevan looked from her to his sibling.
"Now which of you am I treating first since you are both injured?' she asked authoritatively, meeting both their eyes in turn.
"My lady we don't need…" began Ser Kevan trying to curtail a stream of abuse from Lord Tywin but she cut him off.
"Yes you do because I'm sure neither of you wants to be remembered as the lion who was felled from a tiny infection in a wound that you were too proud to have treated," she snapped almost impatiently. Her nerves were frayed, emotionally all she wanted to do was go to sleep and wake up when she was at home again.
Lord Tywin bared his teeth in a snarl but she met his angry stare with an imperious one of her own. In the end, the lion relented to the hawk.
"Sit down Kevan," conceded Lord Tywin, waving a hand in her general direction. He looked at his elder brother in surprise but did as he was bid. Ser Kevan sat down near Lady Ailyn and showed her an open wound on the top of his left wrist. Ailyn went to fetch a bowl of water and a cloth to clean away the blood before binding the wound.
"You will never risk your life like that again. Is that clear?" demanded Lord Tywin suddenly, striding over to them and coming to a halt in front of the hearth.
Ailyn looked up at him in surprise, taken aback at his abruptness.
"My life is my own my lord," she stated before turning her attention to Ser Kevan's bindings.
"Wrong. Your life and its absence now affects a great many more people and has more dire consequences than before. I want your word that you will not put yourself in a position like that again," insisted Lord Tywin staring her down again.
She finished tying a knot in Ser Kevan's bandage and straightened up.
Lady Ailyn took a breath to gather her thoughts and then said slowly, "I'm no Lannister but I pay my debts as well my lord. As much as I want to think I saved myself the day I was wounded, I know I would have died in the woods if you hadn't come for me. Now we're even."
Lord Tywin stared at her, unsure of what to say. Ser Kevan stood up after a moment, and after thanking Lady Ailyn quietly, he moved off muttering about checking on something. Ailyn held the lion's gaze for a moment before he made a noise in his throat and spun on his heel, heading for his bedchamber.
"My lor-" she started to say but realized he wasn't paying attention. She snatched up the bowl and the now slightly bloody bowl of water and stomped after him. Lady Ailyn pushed open his door with her foot and went over to his table to set the bowls down.
Lord Tywin glared at her in irritation.
"Your wounds need treating as well my lord. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner I'll be gone from your sight," she explained in a long suffering voice.
Lord Tywin removed his black leather tunic impatiently. There was a large bloodstain on his upper right arm. He went over to her, rolling up his sleeve almost to the shoulder. Lord Tywin half leaned, half sat on the table as Lady Ailyn cleaned away the blood with a fresh towel. The slash was long but not deep, she saw with relief. Ailyn knew her stomach wouldn't be able to handle it if she had had to stitch his arm. She gently rubbed the balm into the wound and bound it with a long, white strip of cloth. She could feel him looking at her but she kept her own eyes on her work and he did not speak.
When Ailyn looked at his face again to gauge how bad the cut on his cheek was, she noticed him looking at her lips in a way that made her feel a little self conscious. She turned away and dipped the cloth in the now dirty water again to try and clean it a bit. Lady Ailyn stepped closer to him and dabbed away the blood from his cheekbone. She could almost feel the heat radiating from him. Lord Tywin's pale eyes flicked up to hers suddenly as she was pressing the cloth against his face.
"Thank you," he said softly.
Lady Ailyn was so surprised she almost dropped the towel. She waited for him to somehow turn it into a sarcastic criticism but that was all he said. Ailyn paused, wishing that he hadn't managed to catch her off guard again.
She swallowed and whispered, "You're welcome."
Ailyn looked away from the intensity in his eyes and put a little balm on her finger. She raised her hand to his face and gently patted the balm into his cut. Between his glances at her lips and her heart thudding in her chest, she was a little unnerved.
Lady Ailyn lowered her hand and wiped her fingers on a towel. She forced herself to meet his eyes again and started to say, "Try not to sleep on your side," when he interrupted her with a fierce kiss. Tywin wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up against him and pinning her arms to his chest. His other hand tangled in her hair at the base of her skull, tilting her head up to meet his. She froze in shock as his mouth moved on hers, his stubble scratching at her cheeks and chin. Lady Ailyn pulled in some air through her nose, and began to push against his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath her hands. She pushed harder, making a soft noise of effort against his kiss. His arms felt like banded steel; Ailyn knew he would only relent if he wished to. Slowly, he let her push away from him, breaking the kiss.
She drew in a breath and opened her eyes to see him staring again, the intensity still burning. Ailyn's face was on fire; from embarrassment and his rough stubble. Even though she was shaking, she kept pushing firmly against his chest until he let her take a step back, his hands falling lightly to her hips.
"I'll change your bandage tomorrow," she whispered breathlessly and before he could react, she spun out of his grasp and strode out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. She moved quickly to her own room and shut the door as well. Ailyn drew one of her daggers, leaned against her door and waited, her heart pounding in her ears. She tried to slow her breathing and succeeded when she heard him open his door. She held her breath as his footsteps came closer, closer. They stopped on the other side of her door. She clutched the dagger tightly and said a small, silent prayer for the first time in years.
One long, horrible moment passed.
She jumped as he swore loudly and she heard him walk swiftly back to his room, banging the door. Ailyn let out her breath and slumped down to the floor, still shaking, trying to pull herself together. Her face felt raw and heated. It had been years since anyone had kissed her like that and she was ashamed to realize that despite the fear filling her thoughts, her body thrummed with life.
I will tell no one. This never happened, she vowed firmly to herself.
Lady Ailyn picked herself up off the floor and went to her bed. She lay down and pulled the covers over her, dagger still clenched firmly in her hand and listened to the deafening silence.