Hi there! I really hope you like this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Shout out to Mim, for being a fantastic beta and sticking with me all this time.
All your reviews are most welcome!
The cries of the babe were driving Genna mad. Her youngest son was as much a Frey as her spineless husband, unfortunately. Genna did not have much patience for him. It was different with Cleos and Lyonel, thought the woman, gesturing so the nursemaid would take the child away. They prided themselves as lions, despite their father's name. For that, at least, Genna was thankful. Two lions out of three, she thought, as the nursemaid left her chambers with the babe in her arms. It could be worse. I could be stuck with three little weasels. Four, if you counted her lord husband, which no one did anyway.
She pitied her younger son. The Rock had always been a harsh place to grow, where only the fittest and most able lions counted. At first, she worried about Cleos too, but he had come to grow as close as a brother to his fierce cousin Devan, and little Tyrion looked up to him. For Lyonel, Genna knew she did not need to worry. True to his name, her wild Lyonel was as much a lion as any of Genna's brothers. A true Lannister, despite his unfortunate house name.
You condemned my children to be Freys, dearest father, she thought bitterly. Her father was much in her thoughts lately, souring Genna's temper as much as her lord husband did. In half a fortnight her father would be ten years dead, and despite the westermen's lack of love for his dead lord, she would be expected to visit his crypt and light a candle in the Golden Sept for his soul. No wonder Tywin was in a hurry to leave the Rock.
Her brother had been famously absent from Lord Tytos' service since the very first year, making himself busy in King's Landing. But Kevan and Tygett and Gerion would come along, as well as her dear good sister and the children. We could have the children deliver the candles. Seven, to please the gods. That would mean including her cousins' children, and the babes, but it didn't matter. It would please the septon, and the hopefully the gods as well. She would make certain to tell Joanna, and to send a message inviting her cousin Damon... But only after writing to Tywin.
She send her maid for ink and wax and paper, as she contemplated what to say to her older brother and lord. What was even the point of writing? Kevan wrote to their brother twice a fortnight, and Genna was more than certain he would not dare to hide anything from Tywin, not even for little Tyrion's sake. As if any of us would dare to lie to him, thought Genna. Still, her lord and brother had made it very clear he expected Genna's letters, and there was no point arguing with Tywin.
It seemed to Genna that her nephew was handling himself just fine. Yes, the poor child was all scabs and bruises but, weren't all the boys like that, when they learned their steel songs? Even Jaime was bruised more often than not, sometimes even by his wild twin's hand. Lyonel had told Genna his cousin trained harder than any other lad, with no word of complaint. The little lion, poor thing. Anything he would want to achieve would take him twice the effort: one for being a dwarf, and one more for being Tywin's son.
It had never been an easy thing, growing in Tywin's shadow. Tywin's presence had been so overwhelming, it had shaped everyone around him to fit his purposes, from Kevan's iron obedience, to Tygett's red rage. Everyone was a tool in her brother's hand, even herself, but Genna could not make herself love her brother less for that. He gave our house the dignity we deserve, our rightful place in these seven damned kingdoms. And if he got away with his plan, they might reach even higher. Genna could stand great aunt of a king one day, her sons cousins to the crown. Royal lions with purple eyes, and silver manes.
Let us hope Tywin knows what he's doing.
The maid came back, pulling Genna back from her thoughts. The girl gave Genna what she requested, and asked her leave to go.
"Tell my lord husband I shall remain in my chambers for the night," Genna told the girl carelessly, before she left. "The babes' cries have given me a terrible headache." The girl nodded, and she dismissed her with a wave of her hand. At least in the Rock she could refuse sharing the bed with her lord husband, and here he did not dare to challenge her. At the Twins... At the Twins, unfortunately, Emmon had grown bold, angered by his brothers endless mocking and his father's sharp tongue.
"They have strange customs, these westermen," said the lord of the Crossing, licking his lips. "But here in the Twins, man and wife share bed, heh," he pulled his pregnant Blackwood wife closer. "A woman's first duty is to provide heirs, yes." Genna wanted nothing more than to choke the old man with her owns hands, but she had smiled pleasantly and replied with some nonsense witticism.
Still, Emmon ended up demanding his right as a husband of sharing Genna's bed. "My brothers' wives warm their beds every night, even the bastards," he had told her, visibly perspiring from the effort of facing her. "Why should I sleep cold and alone, if I have a lawful wife?" Surrounded by Freys, Genna had no choice but to oblige. Less than a year after, she birthed Emmon's third son.
"We shall name him Walder, after my father," suggested Emmon, holding the newborn in his arms. But wherever the child was conceived, he had been born at the Rock like a lion, not in the Twins. And so Genna rebuffed him.
"Most of your brothers' children are called Walder or Walda," threw back Genna. "The last thing the Seven Kingdoms need is a twentieth Walder Frey, for gods sake. No, what he needs is a proper western name," she said, taking the child from her husband's arms. "A Lannister name." She looked down to the red squalling babe in her arms. "We will call him Tion," she declared, defiantly.
"Tion Frey it is then," muttered Emmon. "But the next one will be a Walder, wife."
The next one. As if she even planned to have another child by her weakling of a husband. Still, it seemed as if her husband's intent of making her son a Frey prevailed over her efforts, and chinless, Tion spent most of the day squalling and hiding fearfully behind his nursemaid's skirts, to Genna's dismay. Fortunately, it had been her third son who carried his father's traits, and not her firstborn. For that at least, Genna was thankful.
In the unlikely case of her lord husband inheriting the Twins, his heir would be a lion of the Rock. Highly unlikely, given her good brother Stevron's own litter of little weasels. The eldest of lord Walder's sons had taken after his father, surviving his three wives, and producing sons and grandsons at an alarming rate.
And so she brooded, still wondering what to say to her brother. She would have to mention her nephew's training discreetly, but more than anything she wanted to talk about Joanna. The flower of the west was withering from inside out, and it worried Genna more than she dared to admit.
It's Tywin's coldness, decided Genna, dipping her quill in the black ink. She misses Jaime, and now she's lost Cersei as well. But it's Tywin's indifference that truly consumes lord and lady of the Rock, who had loved each other so well, who had made such a clear contrast to the unhappy royal marriage. Not even her little son seemed to cheer Joanna anymore, as she spent now more and more time in the Golden Sept, to Genna's distress.
Tywin had never been the most patient man, and he held no love for the gods. A pious, feeble woman was more likely to drive him further away. It had been Joanna's big mistake, to confront his decisions on the life of their children, to accuse him of not caring for their safety. She had no doubt her brother still loved Joanna, but he was a proud man.
"My lord, and dearest brother Tywin", she wrote. "I pray every morn for your safe travel. The maester told me you have reached Riverrun, and soon depart to King's Landing." She took a sip from her watered wine, and continued writing nonsense pleasantries she was certain her brother wouldn't even bother to read.
"Everyone is busy with the arrangements of father's tenth mourning. This year I intend to have the children light the seven candles for his soul in the Golden Sept." She wondered how to continue, taking another sip from her cup. "In your absence, your son will be the one to light the Father's candle. He is a little bruised from his play with Lyonel, but keeps a cheery mood. The maester praises his wits, and his determination. He keeps his mother company in the sept, and has been praying for Cersei and for you. Your lady wife misses you and her golden twins dearly."
She sighed, wondering if she dared to write down her concerns regarding Joanna. The risk of angering Tywin was ever present... and by no accounts did Genna want to be exiled from the Rock, not again. It could very well end up with Genna birthing her fourth Frey child. Even the thought of her chinless incompetent husband over her made her nauseous.
Certainly, her concern for Joanna was not something proper to write down in a letter, least one to be received by an unknown maester from the riverlands. No, better tell Kevan... He probably was going to meet with Tywin sooner than herself. Kevan could talk to Tywin in a more discreet manner.
"We had a letter from Jaime a couple of days past. He's spending time with the princes' Manwoody cousins, and hopes for a tourney soon to prove his valor. He makes all of us proud, and we hope to see him soon. Be safe, dear brother, and give Cersei a kiss from her aunt." She signed the letter, and waited for the ink to dry. As she sealed the letter with the red wax of Lannister, she sighed once again.
Let us hope Tywin has the right of it, as always. Rhaegar seems an able man, as chivalrous as a western knight, with none of his father nature. He will make Cersei happy, and hopefully then Joanna will find peace, and reconcile with Tywin. She called for a guard, and instructed him to take the letter to Maester Creylen. Let us hope.
