296 AC
Lenna VIII
"Well, if it isn't the Lady of White Harbor."
Lenna jumped, looking up quickly. Tywin Lannister stood with his hands behind his back, looking down his long nose like a bird of prey might look down a beak.
It took Lenna only the fraction of an instant to rise to her feet, making sure that a smile was spreading over her face as she bobbed a curtsey. Internally, she was ablaze with anxiety. Though he didn't often appear, the Lord of Casterly Rock made her feel queasy, always off her guard.
"My lord," she murmured. "I didn't know you were in King's Landing."
"Just for a brief time. I can never get the queen to come to Casterly Rock and a visit was overdue. You look well, Lady Helenna."
"Thank you, my lord," she replied, the feeling of unease growing. She'd only met the man once, and he never struck her as solicitous.
Tywin's gaze had never wavered, and she wondered if he never blinked. Like a snake. A calculated smile appeared on his once-handsome face, each muscle moving as if commanded to do so one by one. The result was unsettling. He took the five steps needed to reach her and extended a hand. She placed her fingers in his, noting the dry, papery quality of his skin, and Tywin Lannister bowed over her knuckles. He did not kiss her hand, a true gentleman wouldn't, but Lenna wanted to snatch her hand back immediately.
"I had heard you spent a considerable amount of time in the library. Most irregular, don't you think? Wouldn't a young lady rather be sewing or talking or dancing?" He had withdrawn his hand and begun a slow circuit of her workspace, his light green eyes turned upwards at the piles and piles of books. His voice didn't match his face, almost-teasing though his eyes remained cunning. He was observant, and she could almost see him cataloguing what he found: her, the books, the parchments, the ink. She wondered what he made of it.
"I am sure many young ladies would, my lord."
"But not you." He had turned back to her, one eyebrow slanted severely, echoing the quirk of his thin lips.
"I have nothing against sewing or talking or dancing, my lord, in fact I greatly enjoy all three. In the right company." Lenna decided she did not like bantering with the queen's father. Tywin, on the other hand, seemed to derive pleasure from it. He'd even teased her on the day of her arrival. She'd been wary of him then, knowing so little about him. She was terrified of him now.
"And you've found none?" It was a heavily laden question, full of implications she didn't want to address. No, she thought bitterly, I have found few to call friends, and I'm not sure that those I do would meet your standards. Your own son included.
"I have become quite busy, my lord," Lenna said with a little laugh. No one could ever say that Tywin Lannister's eyes sparkled, but they did glitter. He was looking for a falsehood, and she refused to give him one. The truth was perfectly acceptable in his case, granted it was a carefully selected truth.
"Indeed," he said abruptly, walking a few paces toward her. "My daughter is very impressed with your work with the princess."
"It is easy to work with such a sweet pupil," she replied evenly. Again, not a lie. She adored Myrcella and rejoiced in the little girl's growing. She could already add and subtract, and she knew her letters well enough to read a few of the simpler stories in her red book.
"One wonders where you learned it all," he said, raising his eyebrows. "At your father's knee, perhaps?" Here it is, she thought. After all these years, she still hadn't the foggiest idea why the queen's family hated hers so. If they'd been a rival Great House, it might have been one thing, but the Manderlys were not a Great House. Powerful in their right, rich to be sure, but self-contained and isolated in their harbor far from the workings of the royal court and the Lannisters.
"My father enjoyed reading, my lord, but he was no scholar. No, I'm unlike the rest of my family in that way. Wendel and Wylis were always scrambling for a fight when they were younger, and I suppose are too preoccupied in important matters," she paused to twist her lips in a smirk, "for much outside reading."
It was true, at least from what she remembered. Wendel and Wylis were knights, true ones in every sense of the word, but they were not scholars. That unexpected trait had fallen to her, and her alone.
"But you grew up long after they were boys."
"I did, they are fifteen and twenty years my elders."
"Were you still close?"
She wondered what he was trying to get at, but carefully kept her face pleasant, smiling enough to know that a dimple was winking at the formidable Lord of Casterly Rock.
"No, my lord, my father sometimes joked that I was quite an only child. They were men grown before I was born."
"But your father kept you close."
"He did, as you did the queen, I understand." She was keen to divert the conversation toward away from her family and back to his. She didn't understand what he was getting at, questioning her about her upbringing. Surely, he wasn't trying to exact information. Even if he was, she had none to give.
"How's that?"
"She's spoken on how beneficial it was to learn from you, not just the domestic arts we ladies must master, but the administration of a large province, economics, philosophy. That sort of thing."
"She told you about that?" It was Tywin Lannister's turn to smile. It was a cold thing, and it didn't reach his eyes.
"It is why she decided Myrcella needed a tutor that would teach her more than just embroidery and dancing."
"You." Both pale eyebrows rose with the word.
"Yes, my lord."
"Did you learn statecraft from your father, then?" He had resumed pacing, flipping open books as he roamed, clever eyes darting over the words and then snapping them shut again.
"No, my lord," she chuckled. "He never involved me in those affairs. I was too young, anyway."
"How long have you been in King's Landing now?"
"Nigh seven years." It always flummoxed her to count her years in the capital. The span of time seemed both the blink of an eye and an eternity.
"And never have gone home, from what my daughter tells me."
"No, my lord." Never asked to go home. Never told I could go home. Never offered the chance.
"One might wonder why."
"My father is a poor correspondent, my lord, and the queen has not given me leave to go. My duty is here, with the princess." It was a struggle to keep her emotions in check. She had folded her hands behind her back so she could squeeze her fingers, eager for some place to channel the tension she felt. She hoped he read it as modesty and fealty.
"A pretty answer." He was regarding her like a lion would a sheep, hidden in the grass with sharp eyes trained as he waited for his opportunity to pounce.
"A truthful one." Not a lie.
Tywin Lannister held her eye, and Lenna refused to look away. She had succeeded in keeping her face neutral if not pleasant, but she was damned if she was going to let herself be cowed. He said nothing of import, but she couldn't help but feel like she was being threatened.
"Can I lend you a word of advice, my lady?"
"I would welcome it." Anything to maneuver the likes of you.
"It does you credit to remember where your duty lies. The education of a princess is no mean endeavor. If you continue as you have, you have a bright future ahead of you in service to this family."
"It is an honor to serve the royal house," Lenna answered smoothly. Not a lie.
"It is, and such honors are often fleeting." Here he took a long pause to let Lenna feel the full impact of his words. She didn't mistake him. "My youngest son speaks often of you."
"I am very fond of Lord Tyrion." She took the opportunity to think of him and smile, genuinely. She missed him greatly, and found very little of him in his father and siblings.
"I believe the feeling is quite mutual. You will be pleased to know, then, that he will join me in a few days time. His visit is overdue. He has spoken of little besides seeing you again. It seems you have impressed him, and to be quite frank, you have impressed me."
Lenna was stunned. This whole conversation had been some sort of test, she was sure of it. It was looking more and more like she had passed, though she didn't even know what the task had been.
"I will admit that I had no high expectations of you when you arrived," Tywin continued. Lenna started to shake her head. "Do not mistake my meaning, only that many women of the court tend to be alike in certain ways. So do the men. Vain and scheming, or arrogant and vengeful. I will admit, you surprised me even the day of your arrival. I am a hard man to surprise. Then again, a daughter of Wyman Manderly...perhaps I shouldn't have been."
"Is my father so unpredictable?"
"You don't think so?" It sounded innocent, but Lenna knew that it wasn't. Nothing about Tywin Lannister was uncalculated. He may have retracted his claws, but he was still ready.
"I don't know, my lord," she answered guilelessly. "I have not seen my father in nearly seven years, and I hear from him exactly once a year. On my nameday. It is not as if we are confidants. I am not quite sure I would recognize him if I were to see him. I am quite sure he would not recognize me."
"He would," Tywin said gently, though she didn't know the source of his softness. "You look so like your mother you could be her twin."
Lenna smiled a little lopsidedly, a gentle flow of grief threading through her. "I have heard that said before. I am glad of it."
"She was close friends with my late wife, you know."
"I did not," Lenna replied, surprised.
"I believe Joanna introduced your parents to each other." Tywin had stopped his pacing, turning to look at Lenna full in the face. His jaw was set, a muscle twitching along the bone.
"That surprises me," Lenna said openly. "I did not know my mother knew any of the Lannisters."
"They were both ladies-in-waiting here in King's Landing for a time. Your mother came to Lannisport with my wife once. For a festival, I believe. It was there that she met your father."
"My father in Lannisport?" It burst out of her in shock. All she could think of was her father's distaste for the Lannister family. She couldn't imagine him anywhere except White Harbor, and certainly not in the Westerlands.
"Your father was fostered at Casterly Rock," Tywin said, his brows narrowing in a facsimile of confusion. "We grew up together. Did he really never mention it?"
"He may have, but perhaps I didn't pay attention," Lenna said, attempting to recover from her misstep. Honestly, she was shocked. Never, in her entire life, had her parents ever mentioned her father's time in the Westerlands.
Tywin straightened his shoulders and looked at her shrewdly.
"I believe that to be very unlikely, my lady. I do not think much escapes your notice, now does it?"
Lenna smiled wryly, her blood still frothy with confusion.
"So many people underestimate the power of quiet observation," he continued. "Lesser men are too busy filling the air with themselves. But you see things, don't you?"
"Things, no," she replied, not quite understanding his meaning. "I am rather naive, I think, when it comes to the games powerful people play. Like statecraft. It boggles me. No, but I do see people." She knew she was babbling. To Tywin Lannister. Shut up.
"Character."
"That may be a word for it, my lord. Though perhaps I am unwise to say so. It is folly to have too much confidence in one's own abilities. It leads to foolish mistakes."
"The fool who persists in his folly will become wise."
Lenna took a long moment to mull his words over in her head.
"Is that why I was called here, my lord? I had wondered."
"You are becoming wiser by the moment, my dear," he purred, his lip twisting up into a smirk that made Lenna feel like she'd either just said something clever, or very, very stupid.
Clegane VII
Cersei was sitting at her desk, her father at the mantle. The children toddled at Clegane's feet. He hated being alone with them, infrequently as it happened, though this was the first time in years. They both acted as if he were part of the room, an insensible table or chair instead of a person with two working ears. Well, one ear and the remains of the other, but they both worked. He heard things he didn't wish to, ignored things he wanted no knowledge of. Today, Tywin was slowly pacing back and forth in front of the hearth. It was chillier than usual, and the flames were stoked. Clegane stayed as far away as possible.
"I spoke with Myrcella's tutor this afternoon." Tywin halted, standing and staring into the fire.
"Ah yes, Lady Helenna. Your special interest," Cersei said, barely looking up from her desk. Clegane could detect a note of humor in her voice.
"Interesting girl." You have no idea.
"I suppose." Cersei was still looking at her papers, paying her father as little attention as possible.
"You've done well with her." Tywin was prompting her now. He got easily frustrated with Cersei when she was in such a mood. He expected to command attention anytime he wished, even if it was from the queen. In his mind, Clegane believed, she was only the queen until she was his daughter, and when he wanted to talk to his daughter, she had best listen.
"How do you mean?"
"The young lady is intelligent, and she is shrewder than I would have first guessed. She may prove useful to us."
Clegane groaned inwardly. Lenna was not adept at their games, no matter how deeply she was mired in them. She had made so many mistakes, ones he was able to salvage, but nonetheless. He knew she needed to learn, to understand how this terrible game worked, but at the same time he rued the loss of her artlessness. That she should become just another pawn in the Lannister game-
"She is already useful, far more useful than we ever anticipated." Cersei did not want to talk with her father, and Clegane felt like an outburst was near.
"I don't mean as Myrcella's tutor." He spat out the last word without attempting to conceal his disdain.
"What do you mean, then?" Here it comes, Clegane thought. Cersei had finally set down her quill, turning her head to her father with all the imperious grace she possessed.
"Perhaps it would do, in the coming years, to have a Northern ally." Tywin looked at Cersei in deadly seriousness. A current passed between the two, but Clegane could not follow it. It was evident that this was an ongoing conversation between the two of them, one he didn't have all the particulars about.
"The North will never cede to us, you know that," Cersei spat, trying once again to take up her pen.
"And we could never beat them, but-" Tywin trailed off, hands behind his back as his eyes were foggy and distant.
"But what?" Cersei was growing impatient, again setting down her quill.
"Someone who understands them, the way they think, that could be most beneficial."
"Helenna Manderly is hardly an astute politician." Cersei cocked her eyebrow at her father, a little smirk twisting her mouth. No, she's not, Clegane wanted to say. Leave her be.
"She is not, and readily admitted to me that she isn't. However, she has a certain aptitude-"
"For reading books and teaching children."
"For observation. And she is innocent-" She is more than innocent, she is good.
"I won't have her used ill, father, I feel strongly enough about cutting her off from her family," Cersei snapped.
"Has it been that bad for the girl?" Tywin's tone was unexpectedly sober. If Clegane didn't know him, he'd almost think he had some sort of sympathy for the girl. Tywin Lannister seldom concerned himself with the happiness of others, but there was a tinge of regret in his voice that was unprecedented.
Yes, Clegane wanted to yell, she is miserable. Dying every day. He kept his face blank. Not that it would have mattered. They never glanced his way.
"I still don't see why we ever brought her here. I'm glad, of course, that Myrcella has had the opportunity to benefit from her, but-" Cersei said, still unwilling to think of the Maid of Manderly as anything other than her daughter's tutor.
"It was the right move. She is ours." Tywin Lannister was used to commanding thousands of men with a single word. His daughter was no different, and she became thoughtful at the finality in his tone.
"She is loyal," Cersei said slowly. "I would not doubt her allegiance to us for a moment."
"No, neither would I, and you know that I'm a dedicated cynic. If she wasn't a Manderly, I'd marry her off to Tyrion or Jaime."
Dread started spreading through Clegane's veins like a poison. The thought of her married to the Imp, or, even worse, handsome Jaime Lannister made him feel ill in the pit of his stomach. It would be an extremely advantageous marriage for her house. She would become the second most powerful woman in the realm after the queen herself. She would be theirs in every sense, he thought forlornly. Theirs to whelp the next generation of their dynasty on, to suckle and raise strong, ferociously intelligent brats to continue their quest to take over the Seven Kingdoms. He wanted to groan.
"Jaime is a Kingsguard." Clegane heard the note of displeasure in the queen's voice that her father either missed or ignored. It consoled him to hear the queen as opposed to the idea as he was.
"That could be...amended." When Cersei arched a brow back at her father, Tywin smirked and changed tack. "Tyrion, then. She'd make a fine Lady of Casterly Rock."
"A higher station she couldn't dream of." Cersei didn't seem completely opposed to this idea, her face softening. Lenna Manderly had wormed her way into Cersei's favor, if not her affections. Clegane knew it was to her benefit, but at the moment, he wanted to strike something. Or someone. Namely the Imp.
"She'd be your sister."
That sobered the queen. "But you're not actually entertaining this idea."
Tywin Lannister took a long moment to think before he responded. It seemed to Clegane that it lasted a lifetime. A lifetime to think about Helenna Manderly with a golden lion slung around her shoulders in the Sept of Baelor, her face oddly radiant, the Imp looking up at her with that indulgent expression he often wore around her. So similar to mine.
"No." Sweet relief flooded Clegane and he released the breath he'd been holding as Tywin continued. "Unfortunately. Though I think, oddly enough, that it would be a good match. But I do not trust Wyman enough to align our houses in such a way."
"More the pity for Tyrion. I believe he grew rather fond of the girl during his last visit."
"And she of him, though I've spied no symptoms of love. Mutual affection, respect, yes, but not love."
"I did not marry for love." The bitterness in her voice surprised Clegane. He had often thought Cersei a bored woman, but it never occurred to him that she was unhappy. Who could be unhappy as queen of the Seven Kingdoms, with all the money and servants in the realm at her command?
"No, you did not, my dear. But you are queen. Is that not better?"
Cersei looked aside. She picked up her quill and returned to her notes, bracing her forehead in her hand.
"Please, Father. Leave Helenna Manderly be."
Clegane had never felt gratitude like that before, and certainly not toward the queen. But in response to the queen's request, one that could not be ignored by her father, he tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, thanking whatever powers there were that she might be spared, even if just for a time.
He should have known better than to think that the Lion of Casterly Rock would back down at the request of his queenly daughter.
"Send her home," he said quietly.
That certainly go Cersei's attention. "Myrcella needs her, I can't just send her home."
"Yes, you can. Not forever, but put her on a ship and send her home for a visit. Three weeks, a month, not very long. And when she returns, I want to be here. Tyrion's nameday, perhaps. We'll have a celebration for him."
"Won't he smell something rotten?" Cersei asked. "We've never celebrated him before."
"Perhaps, but what will he do about it?"
"I can't just put the girl on a ship without a guard."
"Clegane," Tywin snapped, turning his gimlet eyes towards the guard.
"You can't just requisition our most trusted guard for a mere slip of a girl-"
"He swore an oath, did he not?" Tywin asked his daughter. "When you wrote to me about the girl becoming Myrcella's tutor, you thought it extraordinary enough to note."
"Yes, but-"
"Then it is decided. Clegane will travel with Lady Helenna to White Harbor." Tywin turned his glare to Clegane. He'd remained completely still throughout the entire argument, but now he met his liege lord's eye without hesitation. "You who always said you swear no oaths."
Tywin's lips twisted, his eyes like crystals. Clegane felt his organs turn to lead.
Cersei's face was stony with perturbation. Her lips were flat and her jaw clenched, though her eyes were alight with anger.
"Very well," she replied calmly. "I'll send a raven to Manderly. She'll be on her way within the week."
Clegane closed his eyes briefly and wondered what in the hell Tywin Lannister was up to.