Lord Tywin Lannister summoned his eldest son to the Tower of the Hand, for the second time that day.

The first meeting had been brief, a mere formality, with Jaime seeming preoccupied and Tywin just relieved to note that he was in good health and spirits, for all his ordeals. Not that outwardly he'd admit it to anyone, but there had been moments in the past year where Tywin had imagined Jaime's death, or even worse, disfigurement. He didn't know how he would have coped if Jaime had been returned disabled in any way. Tywin was a man who put great store in utility as a measurement of a person's worth. And Jaime was his main hope for the future of the Lannister empire. There was a lot riding on him, whether his son realised it yet or not.

Tywin had presented him with the sword he'd had crafted from Eddard Stark's steel, and Jaime had been sufficiently grateful. But there was still more he wished to gift him. Now that Jaime was back with his family, where he belonged, Tywin felt content, unburdened by the thoughts of his death. Thank the gods justice prevailed.

While he sat waiting for Jaime's second appearance, Tywin was less focused on worst-case scenarios and more on practical issues. Jaime had proved himself both resourceful and resilient in surviving his long imprisonment, and the ensuing manhunt to recapture him. Certainly, he'd made a tactical error in battle that had allowed Robb Stark to capture him in the first place, but no military leader is immune to every enemy cunning. Tywin himself had been caught out by the Young Wolf's plans. So there was no shame in that, and plenty of prestige in escaping unharmed as Jaime had done.

Tywin allowed himself a small flare of pride. He would never show it, believing outright praise to be an unnecessary indulgence, but inwardly he was pleased. At least one of my children has real strength and tenacity. Lannister traits. He deserves this reward.

Tywin only hoped that Jaime would recognise and seize the opportunity he was about to be presented with. Despite his battle courage, Jaime's underlying motivations and passions were often a mystery to his father. Tywin had once liked to believe, when his children were much younger, that Jaime was of a similar character to himself. Politically astute, ruthless, ambitious. But as the years went on, Tywin reluctantly had to admit that this wasn't the case. The boy was too prone to unrealistic chivalry, too swayed by emotion. Too idealistic.

He may not be as much like me as I'd originally desired, but he has other noble qualities, that have served him well as a member of the Kingsguard, Tywin mused. But now is the time for him to choose a different life, away from that of being a glorified bodyguard; away from the vile rumours that dog him regarding his sister. Now is the time for my son to stand up and accept his destiny, to be the man I have invested in him to be. A true Lannister, Warden of the West, worthy of his title.

Minutes crawled by and Tywin sighed. What's keeping him? Tywin drummed his fingers on the desk. Shuffled through the sheaf of financial tables in front of him, noticing a stray miscalculation entered on the ledger and correcting it with a flourish of his quill. He could not abide sloppy calculations. Or lateness.

Has the guard even delivered my summons? He considered calling for another guard, and having the previous guard's position revoked. Having his head's position revoked from his neck.

Fortunately for the guard's well-being, Jaime came walking in through the door to the solar right at the tail end of Tywin's fraying patience. Unfortunately, he appeared even more distracted than he had been the last time he'd entered. This immediately irked Tywin, who not only had been kept waiting for what he considered to be an unacceptably long period, but who also detested not having anyone's full attention.

'Jaime. At last you grace me with your -'

'You wanted to see me, Father? I am right in the midst of something.'

'Yes. Take a seat.' Tywin indicated with a tilt of his head. But Jaime remained standing, tapping a rhythm on his sword hilt with a forefinger. The red leather-gripped and lion's head-pommelled sword that Tywin had presented to him only hours before. The noise of the tapping grated.

'I'm in some hurry, if this could wait until...?' Jaime asked.

'It can't.' Tywin swallowed his annoyance. He regarded his son with cold authority, allowing a deliberate lengthy pause before continuing. 'I believe the Tarth woman you returned with has been causing some problems, with an oath she apparently made to the dead. Concerning Sansa Stark. With my grandson's upcoming wedding, you'll appreciate I do not need this sort of... irritation.'

'I owe the Tarth woman a debt, but I will speak with her. Until the wedding is over, I promise she'll not trouble you.' Jaime looked keen to wind things up. This only caused Tywin to prolong the time until his next utterance. Until the wedding is over? Does he mean he considers the matter not yet resolved? Tywin re-shuffled his papers, turned down the flame on the oil lamp. He would not be rushed by Jaime's impertinence.

'You are aware, I take it, that Cersei dismissed Ser Barristan from the Kingsguard on grounds of age?'

'Yes, what of it?'

'Now that the precedent has been set, it should be possible to also release you from your vows.'

Jaime frowned and his gaze jumped about, edgy and restive. He didn't seem to be taking this news as seriously as he should. Nevertheless, Tywin went on.

'I have decided you should resign from the Kingsguard and assume your rightful position as Lord of Casterly Rock. We will soon find a suitable wife for you, and a squire, and such.'

This was a generous proposal by any standards, let alone Tywin's. But coming as it did a surprise, Tywin was fully prepared for Jaime to react with some reservation, even initial protest. Leaving behind familiar past-times, that once defined a person, is difficult. Becoming Lord of the Rock would mean giving up many of the things Jaime currently valued. The Kingsguard. His sister. Corrupting influences both, but long a part of Jaime's life. He may need some time to see the full benefit of my offer.

But what Tywin hadn't counted on was Jaime hardly reacting at all. Inconceivable as it was, Jaime appeared to barely register what had been said.

'Can we discuss this later? Only, I'm extremely busy. Security for the wedding and... Cersei has been trying to locate me all day. The table setting details are sending her witless. ' Jaime pulled a you-know-how-she-is face, and actually turned to go.

Actually turned, to actually leave, without being dismissed.

Tywin was rendered momentarily speechless at this unexpected rebuff. To mislike my plans is one thing, but to ignore them? What in Seven hells has got into him? Tywin drew a steadying breath, summoning all the power of his many titles and reputation. His tone when he spoke was severe and uncompromising.

'I'm speaking of your future as Lord of Casterly Rock. Your duty, to House Lannister. I would have thought it deserved your attention rather more than catering to your sister's whims on cutlery placement.'

'I apologise Father,' Jaime said, sounding distinctly unapologetic. 'But this is not the time to talk of this. I have a lot on my mind.'

'Then I suggest you clear it immediately, as I'm far from finished.' Tywin steepled his long fingers in front of him. He remained silent, while Jaime looked fit to burst with impatience. Pondering his son's inexplicable agitation, Tywin's mind caught on a detail he'd not intended to mention at all, thinking it of little consequence; nothing more than a product of Cersei's paranoia. When she's in her cups she sees all sorts of conspiracies. But now, Cersei's recent ramblings snagged him as having possible significance. He looked thoughtfully at Jaime.

'Your sister came to see me before. She had some... curious allegations.'

Jaime was too smart to let his feelings show in any obvious way, but Tywin noted how his son's body stilled, and the newly-minted attention to his words. Your emotions have always been your weakness. Tywin felt growing unease as his misgivings crystallised.

Jaime's voice was studiously casual. 'Allegations of what?

'You. Commandeering the Kingsguard early this morning in the hunt for some... commoner.'

'Not the entirety of the Kingsguard. And I am the Lord Commander. I am free to commandeer them as I see fit.'

'No man is free to do everything he sees fit, are you deluded?'

'I required one hour from them. It is none of my sister's concern. Nor yours.'

Tywin felt his previous contentment diminish, his pride in his son shrivel, as each one of Jaime's surly reactions confirmed his suspicions. The very suspicions that Tywin had dismissed as ridiculous to Cersei, not an hour since. Disappointment rose bitter in his throat. I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Jaime, but you have let me down. I would not have thought you such a fool. I thought you better, better than your siblings and their promiscuity; better than myself. Tywin struggled to block out the reminders of his own deviance. He was a sinner himself, but he could not bear at that moment to see his own failings reflected back to him through his son. He strove daily to deny his sins, but now they mocked him. Like father, like son. Weak-willed. Lustful.

I held you in higher regard. My first son, my heir. I had hoped you more able to resist temptation. The truth as it sunk in shook Tywin's carefully maintained poise, and infuriated him beyond measure. Along with the realisation that Jaime's character was so flawed, was the resentment that a lesson Tywin had thought indelibly imprinted in his son's mind had been unlearned. Again? I have to deal with this kind of travesty... again?

'I would have thought you, especially, would know the gravity of your indiscretion,' Tywin hissed.

Jaime remained blindly defiant. 'There has been no indiscretion. The girl we were seeking to locate helped me on the road. Without her... I never would have survived long enough for Steelshanks and his men to find me. She got rid of my manacles, risked her own life to -

'Spare me the pathos.'

'I owe her 500 gold coins. A horse. I owe her protection from the crowds here in the Red Keep.'

A muscle in Tywin's cheek began to throb. I cannot believe what I'm hearing. The absurdity of it. 'You owe a commoner nothing. A Lannister never owes a commoner anything.'

'I owe her a great deal.'

'No. You owe me a great deal, as your father. I'm offering you Casterly Rock, a marriage to a highborn girl and...'

'I don't care about highborn girls, or your Rock. I don't... I don't wish to discuss any of this now, as I said. Now if I may...?' Jaime didn't wait for an answer but swung on his heel and began to stride for the door.

'You can have the girl,' Tywin said, quietly.

Jaime froze in mid step, and turned back. 'What?'

'You heard me.'

Jaime stared at his father for a long moment. His green eyes seethed. Then he marched back towards the desk, a look on his face as if he may walk right over it and throttle his father on his seat. Tywin remained sitting calmly, not moving even when Jaime leaned right over the dark wood of the tabletop and put his face inches from Tywin's own.

'You know where she is? Tell me.'

Tywin kept his expression composed, but inside he smiled. It was satisfying to at last get the desired reaction. Now you're paying attention, aren't you, son? Now you want to discuss matters. After all I have offered to you, all which you have thrown back at me. The ingratitude. The sheer wilful stupidity. But you will not make me a laughing-stock with your whore. You will learn the hard way.

'The girl is innocent of any wrong. What have you done with her? Jaime demanded.

Tywin rested his forearms on the desk, his fists cupped. 'I never thought to be in this situation again. When I mentioned this matter to you, I had hoped to be mistaken. I had hoped your sister was being hysterical but... I see now that is not the case. I am sorely disappointed in you, Jaime. I had thought you more -'

'I don't care what you think of me, ' Jaime interrupted, brusquely. 'You said I could have the girl, so tell me where she is.'

Tywin held his son's gaze, frustrated by the disrespect. But he showed nothing more than cool contempt.

Jaime had never defied him so openly. The imprisonment and journey had returned to him a son who was a virtual stranger, one Tywin no longer recognised. His delusion over this whole sordid situation is astounding. He has taken leave of his sense. The commoner has ruined my son, my precious heir, corrupted him with her filth. She will pay dearly.

'I'm afraid I do not know the present whereabouts of the commoner girl. Perhaps you should ask your sister.' Tywin mouth was taut, his words clipped. 'But rest assured she is contained, and will be properly dealt with in due course. An indecency such as what has occurred will not go unpunished.'

Jaime's eyes as he stepped back grew hard and dead, but Tywin continued on, undeterred.

'She will be tied to a post in the square and scourged, and if she survives, her life may be spared on the condition she leaves KingsLanding forever. You can have her before she goes, if you still want her. And then you shall not speak of her again.'

'You cannot -'

'I am your Lord father,' Tywin retorted, rage burning like acid in his gut. 'I can do as I see fit.'

'You are not my father,' Jaime said. He turned away.

Tywin opened his mouth but there was a sudden disconnect between his brain and his words. He could only stare and say nothing, as Jaime walked out of the room without looking back.