So, the sequel to Tyrion V. Happy New Year everyone!

Bonne année! (pour tous ceux qui parlent français)

I would like you to remember something before you read this chapter. The last time we were in Margaery's head was three months before the action taking place in that chapter, and three months ago, Margaery had decided to give up on manipulating Tyrion. The way she perceives Tyrion may have changed quite a lot since that time.


MARGAERY VII

Her footsteps echoed on the walls as she walked away from the godswood. The echoes they made seemed to repeat the story she just heard. Tysha was a whore. There wasn't anyone else in these corridors. The surroundings of the godswood were quite empty. Casterly Rock was almost too large for a castle, even for a rich and huge family like the Lannisters. Margaery was alone. Jaime had planned everything. She kept walking, her legs bringing her nowhere she knew.

The road, the rapers, the girl, all of it. Margaery arrived in places where there were more people. She thought servants bowed when she passed, but she wasn't sure. She couldn't focus on anything. She walked at a normal pace, but somehow her breathe was heavy. He thought it was time for me to have a woman. She ran into Megga who said something about Elinor kissing someone, but Margaery only walked away and said nothing. She needed air. She couldn't stay inside. He even paid twice the price to have a maiden.

Margaery found herself before the Lion's Bridge and was travelling it before she could think. That was where she and Tyrion had their first discussion together. She remembered something he told her at the time. You don't know who I am, my lady. Your cousin Willas is a much better fellow than me. She told him something afterwards, that he was better than he thought. After all his men were done with her, he sent me last. Forced me to pay her a golden dragon because I was a Lannister, and worth more. And I did it, just like the other men. Other words he wrote to her a very log time ago came back to her mind as well. I am not a monster, at least not in the sense that I beat people, mistreat them, or even eat children according to some words circulating. I am not cruel like my father.

I am not cruel like my father. The words repeated themselves in her head. My father sent Jaime away after his confessions and brought in Tysha. He gave her to his guards. They brought her to the barracks and he sent me there to watch. She was paid a silver coin for each man. By the end, she had so much silver that the coins were flipping through her fingers and rolling onto the floor. There were too many things going through her mindfor Margaery to reflect on any. She went through the bridge, then through the gardens on the northern hill and ended following a declining path all made of cobblestones.

The pathway curved to the opposite direction thrice to lead with a gentle slope to a gazebo carved into Casterly Rock. It was under the level of the castle's main floor, facing the Sunset Sea and offering a splendid view on it. Tyrion had brought her here during their first week of marriage, and it had become one of Margaery's favourite places in her new home. She came here with her friends sometimes, but it wasn't their favourite one since they received wind gusts. The gazebo was opened to the Sea and there was almost nothing to protect yourself from the wind it would bring, unless you stayed in the back of the place. The gazebo was so large that if you remained in the back of it, you could hear the wind, but wouldn't feel it. Most of the time, that was what Margaery did. She came here with Tyrion, or alone when she needed to think, and now she needed to think more than ever. It didn't happen often.

This time however, she didn't stay away from the wind. She came to it, and stood right behind the guard-rail in marble. Wind blew in her face and all across her body. The gown she wore wasn't made for this, and despite her casual assertion that Tyrell blood ran warm, she shivered. It would have been better if she wore clothes in the style of the Westerlands. She chased these thoughts away. The wind, the gowns and her warm blood could all go to the Seven Hells for now.

She tried to remember and organize everything she just learnt. Tyrion's first wife was named Tysha. He believed she was a wheelwright's orphan, but she turned out to be a whore his brother hired for him. He married her secretly, without witnesses, and with a drunken septon to officiate the ceremony. A drunken septon he paid. They only lived together for two weeks. His father discovered the marriage and found them. He brought them here, and Tyrion learnt the truth about his wife. And then…

Margaery could still scarce believe it. Lord Tywin Lannister had the wife of his son raped, who knew by how many men, and he forced his son to watch it, and even worse he forced Tyrion to rape her afterwards. Margaery thought about her own father, or even about her grandmother, and she couldn't imagine them doing something like that to their children, or to anyone truth be told. Tywin Lannister had been known for his ruthlessness, but this… His own son…

She remembered her wedding night as if it was yesterday. Tyrion had offered her to not consummate their marriage immediately, and when the time had come to do it, he had seemed more than hesitant. Margaery hadn't understood back then. He was attracted to her. She could see it in the way he looked at her this night, and once they began, there had been no doubts left. Margaery tried to imagine her husband raping a woman, and she couldn't. She knew that ever since Tyrion became Lord of Casterly Rock, every man who forced himself on a girl in the castle, whoever she was, a scullion or a lady, was severely punished with whipping, labor in the mines and gelding. Tyrion's behaviour with her was everything but one of a man forcing his wife to bed him. He didn't make love to her when she didn't want to, though it rarely happened up to now.

Still, Tyrion said he raped his wife. It had to be true. Why would he lie to her about this? She could see no reason for him to create this whole story. His father had forced him to do so. The idea of a father doing this to his son was quite new to Margaery, but it had to be the truth. The alternative, that Tyrion was lying, was simply impossible. Unless, of course, he told the truth, but not all the truth. What if he raped his wife without his father commanding it? He just discovered that his wife, the young girl he loved, was a whore. Could he want to make her pay? Was Tyrion capable of that? She saw him sentence people to die, or to work in mines, and ordered people to be gelded when they were guilty of rape. He ordered less often for people to have their hands cut. The common punishment for thievery with Tyrion was forced labor in the mines, and he also offered people to go to the Wall most of the time. He said criminals were of more use at the Wall or in the mines than as beggars short of one hand. But she never saw him order a woman to be raped, or even someone to suffer under torture when he was recognized guilty. Tyrion was no worse than her own father or any other lord in these matters. From a certain perspective, he was kinder than many lords.

No, he couldn't have raped the girl from his own volition. It had to be like he said. His father forced him to rape her. Tywin Lannister. The man whose crushing of the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion ended with the slaughter of all members of these families, including the women and children. The man who sacked King's Landing at the end of the last war, and who ordered Ser Gregor Clegane, the man they call the Mountain, to slaughter the Targaryen children. One was only a baby, still in the cradle. The man whose cruelty was made into a song. The Rains of Castamere. Margaery had heard it play often since she arrived, but she never thought… She closed her eyes. She understood so many things now. Why Tyrion's first marriage was almost unknown, why no one talked about it, why he didn't want to talk about it…

She realized she had grown numb because of the wind. She walked away from the handrail and sat in the back. She was shivering, both from the cold and from the shock of what she heard in the godswood. She should have stayed with Tyrion, but it was obvious he wanted to be alone. You can go back to Highgarden. You should. He probably expected her to leave, but Margaery wouldn't do that. She couldn't. She was the Lady of Casterly Rock. She had managed to do very well in her new position, and she liked it here. She had become friends with almost all Tyrion's cousins, and she even got along well with Lady Genna and Ser Kevan. Casterly Rock was her home now. She was the Lady of the Westerlands. Her place was here. And also… She didn't want to abandon Tyrion. He was a good man, and a good husband too. They had their disagreements, of course, but during the last months, things had gone very well. Margaery had stopped trying to manipulate him. Instead, she really tried to help him to rule the Westerlands, and to reinforce both House Lannister and House Tyrell, and to strengthen their alliance. Her family had started to negotiate with the Hightowers and the Redwynes about the reduction of duties on trade, and things were progressing. She had given up on trying to get Tyrion to do everything she wanted, and their relationship had never been better. Until this morning.

When Tyrion told her she was no better than a whore, it had affected her more than she thought it could. It wasn't the fact that she was compared to a whore that caused her to feel so bad or to be angry… No, that was something else. The problem was… Tyrion was the one to say it. He spoke as if their marriage was purely made for political reasons, and that she accepted to marry him only because he was Lord of Casterly Rock. He wasn't entirely wrong. Of course, Margaery would never have wanted to marry him had he not been Lord of the Westerlands, but… The truth was… She didn't remain with him only because of his titles, power and riches. Not only for that. She liked Tyrion. She enjoyed spending time with him. She even… There was more to their marriage than material and political interests, and there was more to the sharing of their bed at night than lust. Margaery had begun to feel things… Things she never felt before.

A thought crossed her mind. Tyrion said he didn't know what happened to Tysha afterwards. He didn't know if she was alive, or dead. If she was alive… She may have been a whore, but she was married to Tyrion by a septon. Their marriage was legal on religious grounds, and they consummated it. What if the girl…? Margaery feared the worst. Tysha may come back one day if she was alive, and if she revealed everything, then her marriage to Tyrion was in danger, and the alliance between her family and House Lannister as well, before it could even start to be strong or useful. On the other side, the marriage had been celebrated by a drunken septon, without witnesses, and Tyrion lied to the septon and even paid him. The man may even be dead. Tyrion, the septon and Tysha were the only witnesses who could confirm the wedding took place, and the septon was drunk when it happened. His words would certainly not be taken for granted, and who would believe a whore over the Lord of Casterly Rock when she would claim she was his rightful wife? Tyrion wouldn't give her up, along with his alliance to House Tyrell, for a whore. There was no strong proof that this marriage actually took place, and there were so many things they could oppose to its legitimacy that it wouldn't pose a threat. Margaery breathed steadier.

Margaery noticed the sun was setting on the horizon. She remembered witnessing some with Tyrion, from their bedroom, from here and from the Golden Tower. She hoped there would be many more. But before that, she would need to help Tyrion face his past. It was obvious he regretted the things he did, and Margaery couldn't blame him for that, but he wasn't responsible. His father forced him to do it. Right now, Margaery was glad that Tywin Lannister was dead, and not because it allowed her to become Lady of Casterly Rock.

"My lady." Margaery turned her head on the left to see Mira standing at the entrance of the gazebo.

"What is it, Mira?" Margaery asked.

"I've been looking for you. We were waiting to prepare you for dinner, but you didn't come."

Margaery realized how late it was. The sun was about to disappear on the horizon. "I forgot. But… I think that won't be necessary, Mira. I'm not even sure there will be a dinner."

"My lady?"

"Go see Sera, and tell her I won't need your help for this evening. Have an evening off you both."

"Thank you, my lady," replied her handmaiden in an unsure way. She seemed to not know what to think of it. Margaery always had her handmaidens prepare her for the day, for dinner, for the night and for any special event that could happen during the day.

Mira didn't leave however. "Is there something else, Mira?"

"Well, my lady, I thought you might want to know. I have gone to the godswood two hours ago, and I saw Lord Tyrion there. He was… crying. I thought you would want to know this."

"Thank you, Mira." That wasn't a surprise for Margaery, but she didn't tell her friend. She understood why Tyrion never talked about the horrible things that happened to his first wife, and she didn't want to tell the others, not even Mira. Tyrion told it to her, and only to her. Her handmaiden started to turn away, but Margaery called her back. "Mira, come and sit. I would like to talk with you for a moment."

"Sera will be waiting for us, my lady," Mira pointed out.

Margaery dismissed it. "Let her wait a little. It won't kill her." Obediently, Mira came and sat besides her mistress. "Do you like Casterly Rock, Mira?"

"Yes, my lady. It's a good place."

"Have you talked with Ser Daven since the last time?"

Mira smiled shyly. "My lady, I don't believe Ser Daven has any interest in me."

"Well, when he visited Highgarden he asked you to come back with him, and he seems more than amiable with you."

"He's like that with most of the people, my lady. And I think he might only have proposed me this last year so I could see the castle, and then describe you how wonderful it was when I would come back. Ser Daven doesn't give me more attention than to anyone else."

Margaery was mostly teasing her handmaiden, truth be told, but Mira was also denying things a little. Her friend was very humble and didn't really consider the possibility of men looking at her. She was on the brink of her fifteenth name day now, and it should surprise no one that some men were interested in her, but Mira didn't give them any particular attention in return. Ser Daven seemed to appreciate Mira more than Margaery's cousins and her other handmaidens. She once surprised them talking about her brother Rodrik, who was a great swordsman in the North. Still, Margaery knew it was unlikely that something would happen between Ser Daven and Mira. Her northern handmaiden would never let herself get involved in a relationship or an affair with anyone, and right now Ser Stafford was discussing a betrothal between his son Daven and Desmera Redwyne, Margaery's cousin through her mother Mina Tyrell, her father's sister, who was married to Lord Paxter Redwyne. Ser Daven Lannister wouldn't drop a Redwyne for Mira, and Tyrion wouldn't allow that either. This betrothal would reinforce the bonds between the Westerlands and the Reach. Anyway, Ser Daven's interest in Mira seemed to come essentially from the fact he could discuss with her about the ways Northerners fight. While most of the girls would only marvel at how brave the knights were and how handsome they were in their armors during a tourney, Mira was actually more interested in their strategies and would be more interested by how they won. The same thing could be said about the sparring practices. Ser Daven was a practical man, quite like Garlan, so it was no surprise he appreciated much more to speak with Mira than with Sera or Megga or Elinor. Things didn't go farther between them.

"Don't you have someone in mind? Surely you must," Margaery insisted, trying to figure out how far it could go to have Mira blush.

"My lady, I'm just not interested in someone right now. And to be honest, would it be wise for me to run after a man who I may not marry?"

Margaery smiled sadly. With this behavior, she was afraid Mira would still be an unwed handmaiden at fifty, or never have some fun before she married. "When you see someone who you think could be a good husband for you, and that your family would accept, tell me and I'll arrange everything. I regret you didn't accept my suggestion about Willas when I made it."

Mira cast her eyes on the floor for a second. "I cannot marry someone from a paramount family. At least not from the main branch. You know it, my lady."

Margaery slightly changed of subject. "What about Sera? Does she have someone in mind?"

Mira hesitated. "Yes. She has."

"Tell me who it is," Margaery said, taking a conspiracy expression. This discussion turned her mind away from dreadful thoughts.

"Sera wants to keep it secret, my lady."

"Very well. That will be our secret to the three of us."

Mira gave in. "Ser Lucion."

"Ser Lucion Lannister. Well, I may have to discuss arrangements with Ser Damion then."

"It's nothing serious for now, my lady. This is more flirting than anything else. But if it ever comes to that, you'll have to be very convincing. Ser Lucion is Ser Damion's only son."

"I know," Margaery agreed. It was a chance no one knew about Sera's bastardy, or else Margaery would never find a husband for her.

Margaery looked to the sea. The sun had disappeared, but some of his light still poured in the sky. It would be dark soon. They ought to go back to the castle, but Margaery didn't want to go yet.

"Do you miss Ironrath sometimes, Mira?" she asked.

"A lot, my lady, in fact. I miss my parents, my brothers, Talia, the ironwood grove behind our home. I miss the North. I like the south, don't get me wrong, both the Reach and the Westerlands, Highgarden and Casterly Rock, but I miss the North. I would like to see it again."

Yearning pierced Mira's voice. "What would you do if I gave you the authorization to go back to Ironrath? If I told you to go back there to see your family?"

There was uncertainty in Mira's eyes. "Well, do you still have need of me, my lady?"

Margaery shrugged. "Well, I could find another handmaiden, though I would miss you deeply. From the day you arrived in Highgarden, I've thought of you more as a friend than as my handmaiden. A dear friend, in fact. I wouldn't want to see you go."

"Then I won't."

"You're a real friend, Mira, you know."

"Thank you, my lady."

Tyrion would miss Margaery deeply too if she ever was to leave Casterly Rock and return to Highgarden like he suggested to her this morning. He loved her. She knew it. How hard it must have been for him to tell her the truth. How could his father do such a thing?

"Mira, tell me, has your father ever been cruel to you or your sister or your brothers?" Margaery asked without thinking.

Mira seemed taken aback by the question. She wasn't expecting it, and Margaery looked to have taken it out of nowhere, but like always, her handmaiden answered like it was expected of her.

"No, my lady. Hard, sometimes. But cruel? Never. There have been times he was angry after us when we did something wrong, but he was never cruel with us. He is called Gregor the Good, and believe me IT IS because he is good. He could be hard, but when he was it was when we were in the wrong, just like with his smallfolk."

Margaery nodded. "You've grown in a good family, Mira. You're lucky. Not everyone has this chance." She thought about Tyrion.

Mira didn't seem to realize Margaery was speaking about her husband. She was looking straight before her, her gaze lost far away. "Not that much. You know what happened to my brother Asher."

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry. I almost forgot."

"He's been forced into exile, and all that because he fell in love with the wrong woman. He did nothing wrong. He only loved her, and from what I know, Gwyn loved him too. If there hadn't been this long story of bloodshed between the Whitehills and the Forresters… I remember when Asher told my father that he planned to marry Gwyn. My father had just organized a betrothal for Rodrik, and now he was trying to organize one for Asher too. He told my brother that he could never marry Gwyn because she was a Whitehill. Asher got so angry, and afterwards, when my father discovered they met in secret… What an argument they had. It's one of the few times I saw my father so angry. He told Asher he would start a war, and Asher didn't want to hear anything. He only wanted to marry Gwyn, and he was ready to start a war for that. And one day, when he went to see her one more time, there were four Whitehill soldiers waiting for him. We don't know exactly what happened, but Asher killed them all, and my father was forced to exile him to prevent a war with the Whitehills. I heard my mother shouting at my father the night before Asher left. It had never happened before. My father didn't show it, but he was destroyed by this. He needed months to behave normally again, but I'm sure he will never recover completely from this."

Margaery listened to Mira's tale. She wondered what her own father would have done if he had faced such a situation. Perhaps he would have started a war instead, and her mother too. Maybe her grandmother would have been of a different opinion. Then she thought about Tywin Lannister. What would he have done? He gave her to his guards. They brought her to the barracks and he sent me there to watch. Lord Tywin hadn't seemed to care a lot for his children. Maybe he would have accused the Whitehills of trying to kill his son and would have gone to war, and they would have met the same fate than the Reynes, the Tarbecks and the Targaryens.

"Do you know if Asher is well right now?" asked Margaery.

"He sends us news from time to time, when he can. At least, I know he did before I left Ironrath. In his last letter, he sent me a coin from Yunkai. It was only a few days before I left."

They stayed silent. Light could barely be perceived at the horizon now. They should leave. Margaery voiced her thoughts and Mira followed her. They met a guard up the pathway who gave them a torch. Mira took it and they returned to the southern hill. They were walking towards Margaery's apartments. Before they could reach it, Sera came running in their direction.

"My lady. Lady Margaery," she yelled. "I was so afraid. I thought something had happened to you." She turned her gaze to Mira accusingly. "Where have you been for all this time?"

Margaery answered before Mira could. "It's my fault, Sera. I began to talk with Mira and I didn't see the time going on. I'm the one who delayed us. Anyway, I don't need you for tonight. Your day is over."

"But, my lady, you didn't even eat."

"I'll ask a servant to bring me some food if I ever feel the need of it. Now go. Both of you."

Sera exchanged a look with Mira, and she complied without further questions. Margaery walked in the direction of the chambers she shared with Tyrion. She hoped he would be there. They had to talk about many things. However, she stopped halfway. There was something she wanted to fully understand, and she wasn't sure Tyrion would be the best one to explain her. She turned on her heels and went to someone else's chambers. The handmaiden looked quite surprised to see her at this hour. She hadn't been invited, or summoned since in this case it didn't make much difference.

"Lady Frey is busy right now, my lady. She is with someone else," Lady Jeyne tried to explain her. When she had arrived last month, Jeyne Westerling had been chosen to act as handmaiden for Lady Genna Frey. She was still new, and it was a chance Genna wasn't there to hear her being called Lady Frey.

"I don't care. Just open the door and I will deal with Lady Genna and the people behind. If she ever has anything to reproach to you, tell her you obeyed to the orders of the Lady of Casterly Rock and the Westerlands."

"She is with Ser Kevan, my lady," the young girl tried.

"Open the door. This is an order from your lady."

The Westerling girl finally opened the door and let Margaery go in. Tyrion told her the Westerlings had hoped to marry their daughter to him after he became Lord of Casterly Rock. Margaery was happy it didn't happen, and she thought the girl was too young yet to be in Tyrion's bed, though when she thought about it, now she had to be around the same age than Tysha when Tyrion married her. She wondered if Tyrion would have been able to consummate the marriage if he had married Jeyne Westerling instead of her. Remembering his behaviour on their wedding night, Margaery thought not.

She entered the room to find Ser Kevan and Lady Genna discussing about something concerning King's Landing, but she couldn't catch the precise matter since Genna stopped to speak the moment she came in. Ser Kevan stood up to welcome her. Lady Genna didn't follow her brother.

"Genna, I need to speak with you. Ser Kevan, you too, since you're here," Margaery said.

"At this hour?" wondered Genna. "Well, this must a be a matter of importance."

"It is."

"As you wish, my lady. How can we be of service to you?" asked Kevan.

Margaery could have taken a seat, but she didn't. She thought it was best if she remained standing. "Can you tell me why your brother had Tyrion's wife raped by his guards, why he forced Tyrion to watch them do it, and why he forced Tyrion to rape her as well?" she asked bluntly.

She watched their reaction closely. Ser Kevan looked stunned, but Genna didn't seem very moved. She was the first one to react. "How did you learn it?" She didn't deny it, and if she was surprised, she didn't show it.

"Tyrion told me a few hours ago?"

Genna turned to her brother. "I suppose this explains why Tyrion wasn't in a good mood when you saw him."

"Not in a good mood? That's not the words I would use to describe his state," Margaery scoffed. "So, why?"

Ser Kevan broke the silence that followed. "My lady, you must understand something. The girl was…"

"A whore. I know. I also know that she was hired by Ser Jaime, that Tyrion believed she was a wheelwright's orphan until his brother revealed him the truth two weeks after the wedding, and that her name was Tysha. Is there anything else I should know?"

"No. But you have to understand, my lady, that the girl only married Tyrion because he was a Lannister. All she hoped for was to use him so she could live in wealth."

It remembered Margaery of the way Tyrion talked to her this morning. Many whores I visited said the same. Maybe I don't pay you, but you're not that different from them. After all, you would never have married me if it didn't mean you would become the richest woman in Westeros. That's the only reason why we're wed. She felt strange that his uncle was saying this in front of her. The knight kept speaking.

"Our own father, Lord Tytos Lannister, took a candlemaker's daughter as his mistress when our lady mother died. He made her sit beside him in the Great Hall, she accompanied him in public events, she wore our mother's jewels and gowns. She grew so influential that it was said no one could petition before our father without her help. Our house was being laughed at. Our bannermen japed about toothless lions, they borrowed money without caring to give it back. Even this woman, who was scarcely one step above a whore, stole from him. So when our father died and that Tywin became the lord, he put an end to all this."

Margaery wasn't very impressed by this. Tytos Lannister didn't seem worse than her father, but Lord Mace Tyrell had advisors and her grandmother. Perhaps Lord Tytos only lacked these. "Did he have your father's mistress raped by his guards too?" she asked mockingly.

"No." Genna was the one to speak up this time. "Tywin found another way, more efficient, to destroy her influence. He had her stripped naked and paraded her through Lannisport to the docks. That ended her power."

"Our brother wasn't a cruel man," added Ser Kevan after his sister. "He did it to put an end to her influence and to restore the power and the dignity of our house. Yes, she walked the streets like a whore, but no man laid a hand of her."

"No man laid a hand on her?" Despite herself, Margaery felt anger boiling in her. "That's the excuse you find for your brother's cruelty? A woman he forced to walk naked through the streets wasn't touched by any man, and this excuses the fact he forced his son to rape his wife?!"

"I know that Lord Tywin may seem a hard man to you, but he was no harder than he's had to be. He only did what was necessary for House Lannister. He was a just man."

"What was necessary in having his daughter-in-law raped by his guards before his son? Where was the justice in that? I don't call it justice. I call it cruelty. Especially when it's done to your own son. Would you do that to your own children, ser?"

Margaery's voice had raised with outrage. That hadn't been her intention to yell. She only wanted answers to know all the details of the story, but now that she faced Ser Kevan's behaviour to defend his brother after what he did, that was all she could do. Genna intervened at this moment.

"Kevan, Margaery is right. What Tywin did to Tyrion this day was cruel and unnecessary. And to answer you, my dear, about the reasons Tywin had to do it? Well, it's simply because he hated Tyrion, and Tywin enjoyed to mistreat him."

"Genna, what are you…"

"No, Kevan, this time you'll listen." Lady Genna made her brother shut up in a very similar way to the one Margaery's grandmother used with her father or her mother. "Tywin hated Tyrion. He hated him from the day he was born. He loved to humiliate Tyrion. Why do you think he put him in charge of the sewers if not to mock him?"

"Tyrion proved to be very capable in this task," argued Genna's brother.

"Ah. If our father had named Tywin to this position, you would say this was unworthy of him, but since Tywin took the decision, you approve it. Do you approve Tywin's decision to not be there when his wife was dying?"

"He was there."

"Not when she gave her last breath."

"He had pressing matters to attend to, an important feud between the Serrets and the Leffords to settle."

"That's the excuse he gave you, Kevan. The real reason is quite different. Tywin wanted to kill Tyrion the very moment he was born, when he realized that Tyrion was a dwarf and that Joanna would soon die. He wanted to drown him into the sea. The only reason why he didn't do it is because Joanna begged him to keep Tyrion alive. Tywin couldn't refuse, this was the last thing Joanna ever asked of him, but he never forgave Joanna for asking this. He decided to make her pay this by not being present in her last moments."

"How can you be sure of that?"

"Because Joanna told me. Unlike Tywin, I was there when she died, and if you had been present, and not by our brother's side, then you would have heard the same things from her."

Ser Kevan stared in shock at his sister. Genna turned to Margaery. "Please forgive us. You shouldn't assist to a quarrel between brother and sister." She turned her attention to Ser Kevan again. "You should leave, Kevan. I believe I am much better placed to enlighten our lady than you are."

Slowly, the knight looked at Margaery. "Do I have your leave, my lady?"

"You have," she replied dryly. He had more than her leave. Ser Kevan walked away from his sister's apartments and Margaery found herself alone with Genna. It was a good thing he was gone, or else she didn't know what she could have done. His stupidity when defending his brother's actions made Margaery's father look like the brightest man in the world.

"You must pardon my brother. What he said about our father was true. It affected all of us, but Tywin and Kevan more than everyone else. Life has been hard for him. Tywin brought back House Lannister on his feet, but all that thanks to himself. All my brothers lived in his shadow, and that shadow Tywin cast was long and black. Each of them had to struggle to find a little sun. Kevan saw how things stood early on, so he made himself a place by Tywin's side. And he came to admire and almost worship our brother, always finding something to justify his actions, even the worst ones."

"So it is true? What Tyrion told me?" Margaery asked angrily.

"It is. Tywin did have the girl raped, he did force Tyrion to watch it, and he forced Tyrion to rape her."

Margaery couldn't retain a scoff. "What kind of father does that to his own son?"

"None. And that's the problem. Tywin never saw himself as Tyrion's father. Whenever he looked at Tyrion, all he saw was the dwarf who killed the woman he loved."

"Tyrion didn't kill his mother. He didn't choose to kill her when he was born."

"Of course not. My own mother died from the complications that followed the birth of my youngest brother, and Tywin never hated Gerion for that, nor anyone. But Tywin loved Joanna, and when she died, the best part of him disappeared. I saw it dying slowly even before Joanna left, but her death was the final blow. The only time I can recall Tywin addressing Tyrion as his son was when he was dying. Perhaps in his last hours he finally realized that Tyrion was the heir he needed, not Jaime, though I doubt it. Tywin always saw Jaime like his heir, even after he was named on the Kingsguard, despite the fact it was obvious Jaime wasn't meant to be Lord of the Rock. Once I told Tywin that Tyrion was his son and that Jaime was not, and he would not speak to me for half a year. Men are such thundering great fools. Even the sort who come along once in a thousand years."

"Quite right. There's probably not even a father who comes each two thousand years who would do something like that to his son."

Genna sighed. "I assure you this wasn't the only atrocity Tywin made."

"I know. There are the Targaryen children. And I have heard The Rains of Castamere more than enough since I arrived. Your brother's cruelty was made into a song."

"It was," recognized Genna, regret in her voice. "I loved my brother, but I can't pretend that I approved of all he did, or much enjoyed the company of the man that he became."

At least Genna recognized the wrongs of her brother. The same couldn't be told about Ser Kevan. "Genna, do you love Tyrion?"

Genna looked at her strangely. "After Joanna died, I tried to play the role she couldn't play anymore. I tried to be there for her children. For Jaime, for Tyrion, for Cersei, but I'm afraid I failed. Tywin's shadow left no sun for his brothers, but it didn't leave any for his children either, and not much more for me. Tyrion grew lonely. And after this affair with the girl, he began to visit brothels, to drink, and to gamble. I don't approve how Tyrion used to live, but if Tywin had been a better father to his children, maybe Tyrion wouldn't have lived like a profligate."

"Probably not. Why did no one do anything? No one tried to stop this from happening? No one spoke against a gang rape?"

"Tywin wasn't the sort of man to listen to other's advice. I learnt what he did only once all was done, and Kevan, if he ever knew about this, would never have opposed Tywin. Tyrion himself did nothing. His father gave him an order, and he obeyed. Tywin would reward you if you did as he asked, but if you refused, then he would make you pay, and thrice."

Genna's voice was a mix of regret and exasperation. Again, she remembered Margaery of her grandmother. "Well, I suppose I heard everything I needed. Now I know better what kind of man your brother was."

She turned on her heels, but Genna called her. "Margaery. You've been a good influence on Tyrion, you know. Please make sure it continues."

Margaery faced Genna again. "I will." Then a thought came to her mind. "By the way, Genna, from now on, I don't want to ever hear The Rains of Castamere again. If I hear someone singing it in my presence, or that someone sang it inside these walls, I will banish him from the Westerlands. And if I hear that someone asked for the song to be played, I banish him from Casterly Rock. Forever. Is that clear enough?"

Genna looked at her strangely. "As you wish. I will warn everyone."

"No. I'm only warning you for now. Make sure your singer knows it, or else you'll have to find another one. I'll make sure myself that everyone else is warned."

"You know that this song reminds people of the fate that awaits them if they ever rebel. It keeps our bannermen in line."

"Maybe, but your brother needed it to spread fear. That's how he ruled. With fear. I do not intend to rule with fear. Instead of making the people fear me and Tyrion, I will make them love us. It will be much more efficient. People may still rebel against their rulers when they fear them, but they will never rebel against rulers they love."

Margaery walked away, furious. Now she knew for a certainty that Tyrion hadn't been lying. She didn't believe he did, but who knew. She had to be sure, and now she was. She wondered is she shouldn't order the name of Tywin Lannister to never be said again, but perhaps it would be too much. Tywin Lannister had been Tyrion's father, and his titles came from his father. Margaery couldn't entirely erase the man's memory. Still, she wouldn't have his song played again in her presence, or anywhere else in Casterly Rock. She didn't think Tyrion would mind.

Margaery remembered how Tyrion was a few hours ago when they spoke. She never saw someone so utterly ruined. He had any right to be. She could still barely understand how all this could happen. She couldn't imagine a member of her own family acting like Tywin Lannister did. She remembered something she heard one day about Randyll Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill. He was apparently very hard on his eldest son and heir because he couldn't fight, but Margaery had never heard that Lord Randyll could act so viciously. According to his daughter Talla, he would have his son beaten by master-at-arms in the practice grounds while they tried to teach him how to fight, but never would he do something like the things Tywin Lannister did against Tyrion. The man they called the Old Lion disgusted Margaery.

She arrived before the massive golden doors of their apartments. Two guards stood by its sides like always. One served the Lannisters, the other one served the Tyrells.

"Is Lord Tyrion here?" she asked.

"Yes, my lady," answered the man serving her family.

Margaery took a great inspiration and walked in. She opened the door carefully and closed it carefully. She stayed in the entrance for a long time, wondering what she should say. She had to console people before, but never in a situation like this one, and she couldn't fail here. Tyrion wasn't in the living room. She found him into their bedroom, sitting at a table, his back turned on her, several jugs of wine near him, most of them empty. She closed her eyes. She hoped he wouldn't be too drunk and that Tyrion's legendary resistance to wine would be proven again tonight.

"I suppose you expected me to be gone," she said, waiting for a reaction. Her husband took all his time to answer.

"That wouldn't have surprised me." His voice was hoarse, but he didn't seem drunk from what Margaery could judge.

"You took advantage to drink again?"

"Everything's better with some wine in the belly." If Tyrion noticed the half-jape she made, he didn't show it.

"Well, here I am."

"Why?" He still stared in the opposite direction, his nape facing her.

She walked toward Tyrion and got around to face him. He didn't look at her, but she looked at him. "Why should I leave? Because your father was a horrible man? A monster?"

"I have this in common with him."

Margaery sighed. "Tyrion! You're not a monster. It's your father who had that poor girl raped, not you."

"But I did it all the same. I never thought a single second about disobeying my father, like always. And before… I just stayed there, watching. I could have tried to help her, but I didn't. I just watched. I could have tried to save her… But I didn't. Not because I was afraid. Because I felt betrayed. I just watched."

His voice had decreased to a whisper. She approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn't jerk away like he did previously in the day. She took some comfort in that. He wasn't turning her down. "Your father is dead now. It doesn't have to happen again."

"It will never happen again. I would rather die than see something like this again." His voice had turned hard. Margaery didn't doubt he meant it.

"Well, I have no reason to leave then. You are a much better man than you believe."

Tyrion slowly moved his head to look at her for the first time since she entered. "You're not going to leave?"

She dropped on her knees and looked at Tyrion straight in his eyes. "How could I? Have you forgotten? I'm your wife. We said the words. I am yours, and you are mine."

Tyrion burst into tears and buried his face into her shoulder. Margaery wrapped her arms around his neck. She meant the words she said. She was his, and he was hers.

"I love you, you know," Tyrion said. She closed her eyes as she hid her face into his hair.

"I know," she simply replied.

She wished she could say more, but she couldn't. Not yet.


I suppose this is a better way to end year 2016 than the previous chapter, or a good way to begin year 2017 depending on your time zone. I hope you enjoyed it, whether it was to end a year or to begin a new one. I hope you'll like the next chapter even more.

Please review

Next chapter: Margaery (again)