So this scene just popped into my head and I had to write it out, figured what the hell it's still longer then the prologue so why not post it. Well aware I'm going to get a dozen reviews stating "Why so short?" and if they bothered to read this A/N they'd know this was written and edited in 45 minutes.
Anyway, this is setting the tone of why Tywin puts up with Mordred's...Mordredness, no need to review if you don't want, just wanted to share this before I crash for the night, peace all!
"Once again father, why must I accompany you to Kings Landing? I care nothing for all its courtly pomp and circumstance! I am needed here, to look after my siblings in my Lady mother's place, not playing pretend that I give a singular fuck about anyone outside of our family!"
Tywin had to suppress a sigh as he took in the glowering form of his two and ten daughter, seeing not for the first time that she mimicked his dearly departed Joanna's habit of crossing her arms and tapping her left foot rapidly when seething in rage.
He also did not bother commenting on her use of profanities, he had given up on that years ago.
"Because," he began, "while you may not care about the rest of the Seven Kingdoms nobility they all have a keen interest in you. You are my eldest child, and a successful betrothal would bond thei-"
Tywin barely side stepped quickly enough to avoid the half dozen knives that flew from his daughter's hands, and had to force himself to take in a deep breath before returning his gaze to the now absolutely livid girl.
"Betrothal? What, now that I have had my first moons blood I am nothing more than a whore for you to sell off to become a brood mare to some fat old fuck who will give you a discount on goats just like your father did to Aunt Genna?!"
Aside from having to ignore the jab at being compared to Tytos, Tywin had to contemplate the fact that he had no idea where the sword currently pointed at him came from, but his daughter had it in hand, and from the look of utter and complete loathing in her gaze he knew she was willing to use it.
Why, why did his favorite child have to be so like himself paired with Joanna's fiery passion?
"That is not what I am saying Mordred," he managed to seethe out. Mordred's eyes narrowed and she lowered her blade slightly, quite likely the only opening he was going to get. "You are expected to be at court at your age, weaving your own web of spies and sycophants with the kingdom's elite, and yes while offers of betrothal will be bellied about they will be just that, offers."
Sword now resting at her side she stared at her father with a suspicious glare before flatly stating, "Do I have your word you are not putting me on the auction block? Because if you are-"
Tywin had enough, "Bloody hell girl I know damn well enough that if I tried to bind you to a marriage you did not want your new husband would be your dearly departed husband before the bedding ceremony even occurred!"
The sword twitched up as she sneered at her father, "There will never be a bedding ceremony as far as I and my sister are concerned, my lord."
Of that, Tywin had no doubt.
He nodded in agreement, then all the fight seemed to leave Mordred at once as she looked thoroughly lost for a moment before muttering, "Who is going to look after Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion? I..."
She blinked rapidly then shook her head slowly, "I don't know what to do... I...I am supposed to be there for them... I promised mother that..."
Looking deeply troubled she placed her sword on a table and leaned against it while shaking her head slowly, and now that the burning edge of her fury was cooled he felt it was safe enough to approach her and place an arm around her shoulders. She tensed a moment but soon relaxed into his side as he began speaking.
"Kevan and Genna will look after them, I promise, and it is not as if this is forever. A few months rubbing elbows with the other heirs of the kingdoms, attending pointless, boring, and altogether tedious feasts and tourneys, and soon enough you will be back at The Rock where you belong."
Mordred glowered at nothing in particular for a time, then eventually sighed, "I am only wearing gowns and dresses at formal events, and anyone who tries to take away my blades and breeches will live to regret it."
The corners of Tywin's lip flitted up slightly as he pulled his favored child closer, "Very well then, deal?"
As was customary for her, for reasons no one could discern, she extended her fist to her father who bumped his own into it while she muttered, "Deal."