King's Landing
Lady Ailyn was running through the dim hallways of Harrenhal. The cold wind whistled through the holes in the walls, making her throat burn as she gulped in air. There were heavy footsteps behind her but she couldn't see who was giving chase. All she knew what that she was afraid and had to get away. She turned around a corner and slipped inside a darkened room, trying to catch her breath. Ailyn moved back farther inside the room, and listened for the approaching footsteps. Gradually, they grew louder and louder until they seemed to be just outside the door when suddenly, they stopped. Ailyn was too scared to move. She breathed silently through her mouth and waited, her ears and eyes straining in the dim light. Just as she was preparing to move, a pair of rough hands grabbed her from behind; one went over her mouth, the other clenched on her upper arm pulling her back against a broad chest.
Lady Ailyn snapped awake to Din gently touching her arm, trying to wake her.
"Sorry to disturb you m'lady. You looked troubled," whispered the girl quietly, watching her intently.
Lady Ailyn slipped the dagger she was still grasping a little farther under her pillow and thanked Din for waking her. She glanced beyond the girl and noted that the door was closed.
"Is Lord Tywin in?" asked Lady Ailyn hesitantly, in a low voice.
"He is dressing m'lady," answered Din in her soft voice.
Lady Ailyn nodded and pushed away the memory of last night. She dressed slowly, her eyes always on the door. Din braided Lady Ailyn's hair along the crown of her head and then united the two braids into one long one down her back. When she was finished, Ailyn thanked her and then sat back down on her bed, unsure of what to do. Din bobbed a curtsy and slipped out. Ailyn found the dagger under her pillow and held it in her hands pensively. Her stomach growled impatiently after a while, annoyed at being denied breakfast but still she did not leave her room.
Eventually, she heard his voice, giving out orders. Unconsciously, her mind wandered back to the previous evening. His burning green eyes, his long fingers in her hair, the demanding pressure of his mouth, the soft crackling of the hearth. She shook her head and poured some cold water into a large bowl and splashed her heated cheeks.
Enough. You are being weak.
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves but several crisp knocks on her door scattered them once again. Ailyn waited breathlessly but no verbal request was uttered. She drew herself up, squared her shoulders and went to the door. Lady Ailyn pulled it open to find Lord Tywin, in full Lannister armor, standing a little back from the doorway.
"Are we leaving?" she blurted out, annoyed at the high pitch of her voice.
Lord Tywin met her questioning gaze for a moment and then looked away before he answered.
"We will be in a few hours," Lord Tywin informed her.
She nodded.
"Will you come out for a moment?" requested the Lord of Casterly Rock quietly.
She didn't speak but took a few steps forward. Lord Tywin moved over to stand near the hearth and turned to face her. Lady Ailyn stopped a healthy distance away from him and waited. He clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat to speak. Lord Tywin paused and then said softly, "My lady, I…" and then broke off, looking sideways into the flames. He seemed angry but with himself more than with her.
Lady Ailyn watched him with a growing realization: the great lion was uncomfortable. His hesitation and his inability to meet her gaze spoke louder than any apology he could have made to her. She decided to end his inner turmoil.
She looked at the flames herself and said quietly, "I suppose I should be thanking you."
Lord Tywin looked at her, his features sharpening into a frown of confusion.
She glanced up at him and then back into the hearth.
"I remember what my husband was like, the few times he came to me after he had shed blood in battle," she explained, blushing a little at the memory. "So with the knowledge of what could have happened, I am thanking you for your restraint."
"I assaulted you," insisted Lord Tywin in a hard voice.
She met his eyes and held them this time.
"You let me go. That is more important," she countered.
She could tell from his frozen frown that he didn't agree with her.
"You stole a kiss my lord; you are hardly the first man in history to do that," Lady Ailyn continued, keeping her tone light, conciliatory.
"I have never done such a thing," he growled under his breath, looking at her feet.
"I forgive you, Lord Tywin, if that is what you seek. All I ask, is that you do not make a habit of such behavior," she requested firmly, searching his pale eyes.
Lord Tywin seemed to grow a little taller as he met her gaze, staring her down as he always did, all uncertainty gone from bearing.
"You have my word, it will not happen again," said Lord Tywin, searching her face.
No knight swearing an oath of loyalty to his king had ever sounded as fervent and solemn as the lion of Casterly Rock did as he spoke to her.
"I believe you, my lord," replied Lady Ailyn simply.
Lord Tywin was about to say something else when the door opened and Ser Kevan strode in. He stopped when he saw his brother and Lady Ailyn standing by the fire but she turned to him with a smile.
"Good morning Ser Kevan. How is your wrist?" she inquired smoothly, moving to pour herself a glass of water.
"Healing my lady, thank you," Ser Kevan answered glancing from her to Tywin.
"Good. I can redress it for you before you leave if you wish," Lady Ailyn offered, sitting down at the table.
"That won't be necessary. My lord, the men need to be organized if you wish to leave this morning," counseled Ser Kevan, coming up to the table as well.
"Why the rush?" asked Lady Ailyn, sipping her water.
"Word arrived early this morning that Stannis has sailed for King's Landing. If we move quickly, we should arrive at about the same time and crush him," said Lord Tywin behind her.
"Very well. I will stay out of your way then this morning, my lord. Would you send for Din to help me pack?" she asked, plucking a warm bun out of the basket on the table and rising.
Lord Tywin looked at her, nonplussed.
"The girl who has been helping me dress every morning. Her name is Din," retorted Lady Ailyn, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
Lord Tywin nodded impatiently and waved her away.
She went back to her room and began to put her things back into her trunk. Ailyn knew she was going to need to change into clothes she could travel in. Her leg had all but healed by now, only twinging occassionally when she took the stairs too quickly. The scar was a white slash just above her knee and none too attractive. She smiled ruefully to herself. No one would see it except her maids and perhaps her next husband. Ailyn pushed that unwelcome thought away and took several bites of her bun as it was cooling in the crisp morning air.
Lord Tywin and Ser Kevan were still talking in the next room. She listened to the authoritative command in his voice and marveled at the fact that a quarter of an hour earlier, he had been nearly speechless with contrition. She sat down, still chewing absently on the now cold bun, thinking. Had he just been upset over doing something dishonorable or did he really care about her opinion of him? What was her opinion of him was the harder question.
"M'lady?" whispered Din from the doorway, interrupting her thoughts.
"Din, come in. I'll need some help packing and changing," requested Ailyn getting up.
Din nodded and closed the door behind her.
Over the next half hour, Lady Ailyn changed into a warm riding dress and had most of her things packed away in her trunk. Din was turning to go when Ailyn stopped her.
"Din wait a moment. I'd like a word with you," said Lady Ailyn quietly, sitting down on her bed.
The girl obediently came forward and waited with polite attention.
"What will you do when I leave here?" Lady Ailyn asked.
"Cook in the kitchens for the soldiers who remain here," she answered softly, not meeting Ailyn's eyes.
"Do you want to stay here?" prodded Ailyn, searching the girl's pale face.
Din glanced up at her and then back down at the floor. Slowly, she shook her head.
"Then I want you to have this," decided Lady Ailyn standing up and handing the girl a small pouch, and an equally small folded letter, sealed with her sigil.
The girl held out her hands for them, but her eyes were full of questions.
"This is a letter to my father, Lord Silvyn of Willow Glen. Do you know of the city?" Ailyn asked, pausing.
Din nodded.
"Good. After I've gone, sometime during the night, I want you to get away from this place. I'm giving you enough gold to get to Willow Glen several times over. Get this note to my father and he will see to it that you have a place in our household. You've been a good servant to me Din. The best reward I can think of is to get you away from here," concluded Lady Ailyn.
While she was speaking, she noticed that Din's eyes were filling with tears. When Ailyn had finished, Din suddenly threw her thin arms around Lady Ailyn and whispered a heartfelt 'thank you' into Ailyn's chest. Ailyn smiled and held the girl for a moment but then Din pulled away, wiping her eyes.
"You are very welcome. Remember, you must be careful though. Don't let anyone see you leave," cautioned Lady Ailyn again, a horrible image of a crossbow flashing through her mind.
The girl nodded fervently and deftly secreted the small pouch and note about her person. Din smiled at her and then carefully made her face blank once more. She bobbed her usual clumsy curtsy and turned to go.
"Here, take this too," offered Lady Ailyn picking up her brown dress with the vine pattern up the side. "I can never wear this again. Put it on under your clothing; it will keep you warm when you leave."
Din beamed at her again and then she was gone. Lady Ailyn buckled on her own belt of daggers and then stepped out into the main room again.
"I am ready to leave whenever you wish, my lord," she announced.
"Good. We will leave presently. When we are a few hours away from King's Landing you will stay behind with Lord Braxton and a small contigent of men until the city is secure. If the battle goes against us, he will take you to Casterly Rock," explained Lord Tywin, as one of his knights rolled up his last map and took it away with a small armload of others.
"And then what?" she asked, not liking the idea of being held in the lion's den.
Lord Tywin gave her a look.
"You will wait there until I decide otherwise."
If nothing else, he was certainly back to his usual self again.
"As you wish, my lord," she agreed.
"Get your cloak."
Lady Ailyn went back to her room one last time and retrieved her clean, heavy blue cloak. She glanced around the room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything and then turned her back on it.
She walked out with Lord Tywin and together they stepped into the bustling courtyard. Ailyn looked around for Lord Hugh but she saw no sign of him. A squire was holding Raena's reins for her and she took them happily. Raena danced a little impatiently and snorted, tossing her white mane.
"You are as anxious to be gone from this place as I am," she said quietly, patting her horse's neck. She mounted up and made herself as comfortable as she could in the saddle. Lord Tywin mounted his own horse, a little stiffly in his armor and maneuvered his horse around to face the other soldiers who were readying to leave.
"Move out!" he bellowed.
Lord Tywin urged his horse over to Lady Ailyn.
"You will ride with me for now," said Lord Tywin, not waiting for a response.
She smiled to herself and goaded Raena to an easy canter alongside Lord Tywin.
Every mile that increased the distance between her and Harrenhal lightened her spirits. The day was fine if a little chill, an insistent wind at their backs. Lord Tywin spoke to her only a few times but Lady Ailyn sensed that it was more for appearances sake than any real desire for her conversation. Other knights and lords rode up to speak with Lord Tywin and left with new orders. Lady Ailyn thought she caught a glimpse of Lord Hugh far off to her right, but with the armor and constant movement, she couldn't be sure it was him.
The army paused later in the day for a quick meal and to let the horses rest. Ailyn ate rapidly and mounted back up on her horse as soon as the men did. The horses moved no faster than a brisk walk and an occassional easy canter. Raena seemed pleased and Ailyn was simply happy to be away from Harrenhal. By the evening, she was not as happy; her legs ached and her back was sore. Even though she was wearing gloves, her hands were chaffed and raw from the reins. She got down off her horse with difficulty. Lord Tywin took her by the elbow to make sure she could stand on her own power. Lady Ailyn nodded to him and he let go of her.
"I would have my own tent, my lord," she requested quietly, looking up at him.
He met her grey eyes for a moment and then barked an order to one of his men.
"We will leave at dawn, if not before," he said, before moving away from her.
She walked with as much dignity as she could over to where several men were raising a small tent for her. Ailyn took off her gloves and flexed her weary fingers. She tried to remember if she had any oils left from the last spat of riding for days on end.
A short while later, Lady Ailyn was sitting on a chair in front of a blazing stove, warming her hands. The day had not been overly cold, but with the sun gone, air had developed a sharp bite. A steward came in a little while later with some food for her dinner which she ate in a very rapid, unladylike manner. Two months ago, she would have balked at sleeping on a simple cot with a large fur but now, after changing quickly into a warm nightdress and bedrobe, Lady Ailyn crawled under the fur gratefully and dropped off to sleep.
The next three days were a wearisome combination of the same routine: ride, rest, eat, sleep. Lady Ailyn had asked Lord Tywin yesterday if his wound needed redressing but he brushed her off. She was starting to wonder if she was just imagining it or if he was keeping his distance from her on purpose.
The final night they made camp, Lady Ailyn was sitting by her stove, a book hanging listlessly from her hand, her eyes unfocused. Suddenly, she heard an odd noise from the rear left hand corner of her tent. Silently, she put her book down and stood up, going for her nearby dagger. With it clenched firmly in her hand, she slowly made her way to the rear of the tent. Someone was tugging the corner fastenings loose from the outside. She drew in a breath to scream as a hand drew back the tent fabric, and then abruptly let it out as Lord Hugh poked his head inside.
"Hugh!" she gasped, putting the dagger down, "have you gone mad? What's wrong with the front of my tent?" she demanded in a whisper as he stepped inside and closed the flap behind him.
"Lord Tywin has forbidden me to come to your tent," he explained in an equally low voice, "so I ask you to forgive my unorthodox intrusion." He glanced at the dagger she had put down and grinned, looking back at her. "And I thank you most heartily for not stabbing me."
She smiled and shook her head, coming closer to him so they could speak more easily. Lord Tywin's tent was still only a few yards away.
"He forbade you to speak with me?" she asked softly.
"In so many words, yes," confirmed Lord Hugh.
"Why? He can't be jealous; the very idea is ridiculous," she wondered, looking off to the side.
"That is not an emotion readily paired with the Lord of Casterly Rock I agree. But I did not come here to talk about the great lion," said Lord Hugh quietly, moving a little closer to her.
"We will reach King's Landing tomorrow and I imagine there will be a great deal of bloodshed," began Lord Hugh, watching her face.
She nodded, looking worried.
"I wanted to tell you that, while the conditions of our time together have been less than idyllic, I have still enjoyed your company," Lord Hugh said warmly, his blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight.
She smiled.
"And I yours, Lord Hugh. You have been very good to me. I should like to think you a friend at court, when the fighting is done," Ailyn replied.
"I shall be your nearest and dearest if you wish," he offered with a boyish grin.
"And likely my only friend. You forget, I am still a hostage to the Lannisters," Lady Ailyn cautioned, glancing in the direction of Lord Tywin's tent.
"That condition is only temporary; he can't keep you prisoner forever," murmured Lord Hugh dismissively.
Lady Ailyn looked at him, wanting to believe him.
His gaze softened further and he was about to speak when Lord Tywin's voice rumbled somewhere close to her tent.
"Go!" she mouthed to Lord Hugh, frantically motioning him away with her hands.
He spun around and slipped back to the open corner of her tent. He started doing up the fastenings when Lady Ailyn went to him and gently put her hand over his as he was tying a knot.
"Be careful," she whispered, looking meaningfully at him.
"My lady?" inquired Lord Tywin just outside her tent.
She looked fearfully over her shoulder at the entrance but Lord Tywin waited for her permission before coming in. Lady Ailyn looked back at Lord Hugh just in time to see him salute her with a smile before tying the last fastening of her tent, joining the walls together once again.
Silently, she dashed back to her chair by the stove and picked up her book. She settled herself into a comfortable position and then said "Come."
Lord Tywin moved the fabric apart and stepped into her tent. He was almost too tall to stand up straight inside the tiny space.
"Good evening, my lady," said Lord Tywin graciously. He was still in armor with a cut of red fabric draped over one shoulder.
"My lord. I understand we are nearing King's Landing?" she asked.
"We will reach the capitol tomorrow at dusk," he confirmed, pulling his gloves on a little tighter.
She stood up, setting the book down once again.
"I see."
She waited for him to say something else as he stood there, looking at her.
He looked away suddenly and cleared his throat.
"I wish you to know that you have behaved with dignity and strength throughout your time here as I hope my own daughter would do in similar circumstances," said Lord Tywin quietly, glancing up at her.
"Thank you my lord," Lady Ailyn replied. "My father would be proud to hear you say that."
"You are a credit to him," confirmed Lord Tywin, watching her face.
She smiled warmly at him.
He is not usually this complimentary.
Lord Tywin stopped speaking and Lady Ailyn wasn't sure what to say in return.
"Take care tomorrow, my lord. I will not be there to protect you," she said, almost affectionately.
His eyes narrowed for a brief moment to determine if she was making a jape but there was only honesty and concern in her countenance.
"You have paid your debt to me. Do you still wish me well?" asked Lord Tywin curiously.
"If I believed in prayers my lord, I would include you in them," Lady Ailyn remarked, folding her hands in front of her.
He had nothing to say to that. Lord Tywin seemed to be struggling with something that he couldn't put words to. After a moment, he reached out and gently took her hand. Ailyn tensed slightly but did not pull her hand back. Tywin brushed the back of her hand with his thumb, looking down at her hand as he did so. She tried to divine the look in his eyes and could only conclude that his look was softer than usual.
He glanced up at her and all at once, seemed to realize what he was doing. He dropped her hand and took a step back.
"Get some sleep my lady. You have a long day ahead," counseled Lord Tywin firmly.
"You as well my lord," she replied, still uneasy and confused.
He nodded and without another word, swept out of her tent, leaving her alone, her silent questions unanswered.
The next day he barely spoke to her, often riding beside her for an hour or more without even glancing in her direction.
Finally, they reached the last hill that rose up above the capitol. Lady Ailyn and Lord Tywin were among the first to see King's Landing and the harbor surrounding it. The sun had already set leaving behind bright red streaks in the sky and a slowly advancing blackness.
"Stannis' ships are nearly at the city!" shouted Ser Kevan, pointing at the fleet headed straight for the harbor.
"Sound the charge! Stay here my lady," ordered Lord Tywin, pulling on his helm. He raised a gloved fist in the air and dug his heels into this destrier, flying down the hill away from her.
Lady Ailyn held on tightly to the reins as a sea of soldiers flowed around her, down the hill, toward the threatened city. Raena fought her, spooked by the running horses but Ailyn held her firmly in place. If she was drawn down with them, she would surely be killed.
Finally, the thundering of hooves died down as the army rode away from her. She risked a glance back behind her and saw Lord Braxton coming up at an easy pace with a small troupe of men. It was growing very dark, the lights of King's Landing illuminating the night almost as much as the moon that was rising.
Lord Braxton rode up next to her and called a halt to his men.
"My lady," he greeted her, his tone less than respectful.
She glanced over at him. Even with his helm on, she could see his jaw clenched and irritation flashing in his black eyes.
"Thank you for staying with me my lord," she ventured politely.
He scoffed.
"I'm not here by choice. I have proven myself in battle to Lord Tywin numerous times and yet he orders me to stay behind and play septa to his mistress," growled Braxton indignantly.
Lady Ailyn glared at him.
"I am nothing of the kind Lord Braxton but I will be happy to tell Lord Tywin you called me a whore and dishonored his name," she snapped back.
He blanched as fear crept into the blackness of his eyes.
"Keep a civil tongue in your head, my lord and I will see to it that you are allowed to keep it firmly attached to your shoulders," warned Lady Ailyn looking away from him.
In the moonlight, Ailyn could see a shimmering wall of glinting metal heading directly for another moving, metallic mass near the city. When they met, there was a terrible clashing, grinding sound followed by shouting and screaming. It went on for so long Lady Ailyn was about to beg Lord Braxton to move out of earshot of the fighting when suddenly, the night lit up with a blinding green light, out in the bay by Stannis's ships.
Ailyn felt the shockwave of the explosion even though it was miles away. Raena reared up, whinnying wildly, almost throwing her from her saddle she managed to hold on. Braxton reached over and grabbed her reins as well until she calmed down.
"What is that?" she gasped, as most of Stannis' fleet was consumed in a wall of green flames.
"Wild fire," whispered Lord Braxton fearfully, his drawn face illuminated in a sickly green glow.
"Gods be good," she breathed, trying not to think of all the lives that had just been snuffed out like so many candles in a strong wind. The blaze died down a little as all the ships were consumed. There was still the dull roar of fighting, the clash of metal on metal as the two armies fought each other.
Lord Hugh is down there somewhere.
Lady Ailyn and Lord Braxton stayed on the hill all night, tense and watchful. Slowly, the noise of war died down and then there was silence. She looked at Braxton but he didn't acknowledge her.
Just as the sky was beginning to lighten to grey, two riders approached them from the city. Both were wearing Lannister red.
"Good day Lord Braxton and Lady Ailyn. I am pleased to report that the city is saved and it is safe for you to enter. If you would follow us?" the guard informed them.
Ailyn nodded dumbly and urged Raena forward.
Braxton shouted an order to his men and followed after her.
"Did Lord Tywin send you to meet us?" asked Lady Ailyn as they neared the city gates.
"Yes my lady. The Hand of the King has ordered me to bring you to the west entrance where Lord Baelish will meet you," called the soldier over his shoulder.
As they rode through the city streets, Ailyn glanced uneasily around. No one was stirring except soldiers. All the homes and businesses had boarded their windows and doors. The stench of filth and burned flesh assailed her nose to such a degree that Ailyn raised her hand and covered her mouth lest she be sick.
"Lord Braxton, the other commanders and soldiers are in the barracks," called the soldier leading them as they came upon a crossroads. Braxton nodded and motioned for his men to follow him as he moved his horse off to the left branch of the street.
After a final curve in the street, the red walls of the Palace rose up before them. They went around the right side of the magnificent structure to a small entryway. There was a man with black hair in long, fine robes waiting for them.
Lady Ailyn dismounted less than gracefully as her legs nearly buckled under the strain of standing after sitting awkwardly on a horse all night.
"Greetings my Lady Ailyn," said a voice beside her as she turned away from her horse.
A pair of very intelligent blue eyes were studying her.
"I am Lord Petyr Baelish at your service. Allow me to take you to your chambers my lady, you must be exhausted," offered the man, extending an arm to her. There was something obsequious and sly about his eyes and mouth that put Lady Ailyn on her guard but she took his arm anyway, leaning on him as they slowly ascended the stairs.
"Thank you for taking the time to meet me Lord Baelish. I'm sure you have many more important matters to attend to," said Lady Ailyn as she bit back a groan of pain on the last stair.
"I was given to understand that seeing you safely to your room was of paramount importance, according to Lord Tywin," replied Lord Baelish.
"He is well then?" she asked as they turned down a long hall way.
"As well as he ever was, my lady" Lord Baelish reassured her.
"And…you don't happen to know if Lord Hugh Elden has survived?" asked Lady Ailyn, trying not to sound too anxious.
"I am not aware of his presence at court yet my lady, but the court is only just reassemlbing itself after last night's attack," answered Baelish smoothly, steering her up another flight of stairs.
Her legs were screaming with pain, and even her wound ached.
"You will be staying in the Tower of the Hand as a guest of Lord Tywin's my lady. I do apologize for the lengthy walk. You will not be disturbed for the next few days while you recover from your ordeal," Lord Baelish informed her.
Finally, they reached a large, oak door which a guard opened for them. Two maids were waiting just on the inside of the door. They curtsyed to Lady Ailyn as she stepped inside the room.
"This is Lisi and Myra," introduced Lord Baelish, indicating first the tall girl with black hair then the shorter, younger one with blonde hair respectively. "Does my lady require a Maester? I have heard that you were wounded," pried Lord Baelish, his eyes flicking down her body.
"No, I am well enough. Thank you for your assistance, Lord Baelish. You've been most helpful," nodded Lady Ailyn, dismissing him.
"I always endeavor to please, my lady," he said silkily. "Then I will leave you in the capable hands of your maids."
Lord Baelish bowed low to her and then swept out.
"I need a hot bath and some food please," requested Ailyn shrugging out of her cloak. Lisi took her cloak while Myra said, "A bath has been drawn my lady and food is on the way."
As the adrenaline of the evening wore off, Ailyn slumped under the sudden weight of exhaustion. Numbly, she allowed her new maids to undress her, bathe her and serve her. They both had numerous questions for her about life in a soldier's camp but she silenced them with a tired wave of the hand. When she was no longer hungry, Ailyn moved weakly toward the sumptuous bed and fell into it. She was asleep before her maids finished tucking in the bedding around her.
