June 9, 2015
Week 38, 281 AC

I think one thing I've sorely underestimated in the time that I've been here is magic. I don't blame myself, really - to be fair, there's very little trace of it left; merely the residue of years long past. The dragons all died during or after the Dance of Dragons and the warlocks of the Free Cities live in solitude in Qarth. The library at Riverrun doesn't have much of a collection when it comes to the magic of Old Valyria, so whatever I read, I read about dragons and when that got repetitive and boring, I went back to the histories of the Seven Kingdoms and Essos. I didn't think it would be of much consequence.

I was wrong.

It was a surprisingly sunny sort of day when Lady Genna was busy with her circle of ladies (gossiping most likely) and I was given leave to do as I pleased. I sought out Tyrion and found him gearing up for a ride in the woods that are to the north of Casterly Rock. Technically it was Addam riding and Tyrion seated in front of him, but either way, he asked me to come along. I obliged. Now while these woods are far from the safest place around, they aren't filled with bandits either - so when we spotted something burning at a distance, Addam instructed three of the guards that had accompanied us from the Rock to wait while he and another guard checked what was wrong. I was aware smallfolk were wont to take up residence among the trees sometimes, so I knew he was worried about them being in trouble. We were all worried, I think. A fire in the woods could be dangerous. The guards with us grew tenser and tenser by the minute. Tyrion grew more and more restless. Eventually, he declared that he couldn't take it any longer and wanted to go away from the place we'd halted. While I was in the process of convincing him to stay put for a little while, we heard a scream - from the direction of the fires. From the direction Addam had cantered to.

I was immediately frightened and fearing for his life. I commanded the guards to follow the cries but they refused to listen to me. Not that I blame them too much, but in that chaos, what was more important - saving lives, including possibly that of Addam, or staying with us doing nothing? It was only after the screams intensified, I threatened two non-Sers with complaints to Lady Genna of inefficiency and Tyrion threw rocks on them that the guards left us.

The two of us were alone thereafter with only sneering Ser Preston for company. My hand flew to the dagger I'd got from Shirei, and I knew she'd been right to give it to me. I knew Jaime had been right to teach me how to use it. Tyrion was awfully quiet, but his face was contorted and he moved to hug me. He was afraid, even more so than I was. I remember hearing a baby's squalling from somewhere in the woods. Then she came.

I don't think I've seen a person look so… so simply horrendous. The woman was short and fat, but she had pools of sickly yellow instead of eyes and her hair was a literal bird's nest. I can't forget the sight of her, not even when I sleep. She is the single scariest memory I have.

At this point, Tyrion had climbed back up my horse and was seated in front of me as before he had been in front of Addam. His grip on the horse loosened when the woman approached. I raised my dagger and asked her who she was and what she wanted, but that only seemed to make her snap. She flew into a rage and screamed, loud enough to drown the cries from wherever Addam was. When I turned to look at the Sneering Ser, his eyes seemed to have glazed over and whitened. Whitened! Coward, is what I remember thinking. I called out for the man, but to no avail. Tyrion's face paled, and he jumped off the horse before I could stop him. I yelled at him and asked him to come up, but he collapsed to the ground and started crying, scared of this woman that was coming nearer and nearer by the minute. I pointed my dagger to her but it didn't phase her one bit. She kept yelling for blood, for a man named Marwyn and that her god had cheated her, played with her. While I fruitlessly tried to get Tyrion to calm down, the woman's eyes went to my neck - to where Uncle Brynden's gift, the bat-and-trout chain was hanging. That was when she came to a halt and started cackling harshly.

She must have shouted "You!" to me at least ten times. When that was done, she closed the distance between us, not afraid of the dagger that I had pointing to her throat. I don't know how, but she knew. It just felt like those yellow pools looked inside me, read me for whole. Somehow she knew I didn't have the nerves to stab her even if she attacked me. She knew I was frozen in my spot. She knew I was afraid for Addam and the people the screams belonged to. She knew everything I was thinking about. Somehow, it even seemed like she knew that I am not in fact Lysa Tully, though that is who I have been for nearly a year.

Only when the woman accused of changing colors did I feel marginally better. Changing colors! That's what she was paranoid about. She told me in her cracking voice how she could "tell no longer! Feel no longer! The colors have changed, they have changed, they have changed! Snow white to blackening like the flesh beneath and glistening gold to the red of fire, but between them lay the darkness of storms 'stead of the blues of the sky! Onyx and onyx but no shade driving them apart, no, 'tis the crystal rainbow even though the grasses stay!" Those words repeat in my head sometimes. The woman was clearly crazy, and I relaxed somewhat after hearing her rant, but then she had looked at Minisa Tully's silver chain once more and then up in my eyes. "The colors are changing! Can you feel them change? Can you?" she demanded of me.

I will never know what else she had to say to me, because without either of us realizing, Tyrion had stood up on the other side of the horse. He flung a rock towards the woman, whacking her in her face, and sent her weak body flying backwards. I have never been so thankful to him.

Addam and the guards returned to see Tyrion and I on the horse, few feet away from the original place, while the rambling old codger had disappeared to wherever in the hells she had come from. Sneering Ser Preston wore a fearful look on his face, and refused to answer any of my calls, but looked around warily. He helped handle the two women Addam's company had with them, one severely burnt, the other clutching a barely year old boy. "It was the witch, Maggy," Addam explained matter-of-factly. "She set her own tent on fire, and burnt down another settlement near hers." The women and the baby had been the only survivors from said settlement. I cursed this witch Maggy then, thinking of her such a sadistic fool. I didn't connect the dots until later when I inquired just who Maggy was - "A fortune-teller, didn't you know?" wondered Lynora Hill, a Lannister cousin from her father's side, though illegitimate. "They say she can tell you all that is to come, only at the price of a drop of blood. A maegi from Essos, they say."

The more and more I read about 'maegi's and what the woman in the woods had spoken about her god and blood magic, the more it made sense. She had been Maggy, the woman who had burnt down the tent and the settlement with it. The woman who had spoken of the changing of colours - she had been a fortune-teller, if at least half the Rock's young women were to be believed. She had made the Sneering Ser forget the events that had transpired in the woods, for whenever I dared ask him, his expression blanked. He remembered nothing. He knew nothing. She was a murderer, a witch, and for a fleeting moment I wondered if she had the resources to tell me how I'd come to be in this strange world. Suffice to say that was only just a fleeting thought, for not only did the witch creep me out: I feared her, and I feared how unhinged she seemed. What could have happened to drive her this insane?

For the longest time it seemed like Tyrion hadn't told anyone about the... encounter, and neither had I, but after silent treatment for nearly fifteen days, Jaime approached me. He told me he knew and tried to comfort me, steadily fumbling all the while. It was such an awkward attempt that I couldn't help but laugh. Seriously, ignoring me for two weeks and then attempting to console me? It was just like him. I told him that while the witch wasn't going to leave my nightmares any time soon, at least my days weren't haunted by her face; instead, they were haunted by his. I asked him why he hadn't spoken to me, why he had run away with his tail between his legs after the incident in the Stone Garden. I told him that what I had done there hadn't been a joke, to which he cracked a smile but only responded with a mumbled "sorry". He told me he would await me in the garden in the morning, and just like that, abrupt though it was, we were back to normal again, and that is how we've been for half a month. It's not the best thing I could have hoped for, and I do find myself wanting more sometimes, but if for now this is all I'm getting, I accept it. We have years ahead of us for more.

Lady Genna turned thirty-six this month, so Casterly Rock held a feast to celebrate. It was… well, I think ostentatious is an understatement. Catelyn's nameday feast at Riverrun was like a soup kitchen supper in comparison. I hate to imagine being in charge of such affairs in the future - it was overwhelming, and only a nameday feast of the sister of the lord. I shudder to imagine what weddings must be like. I even helped plan it, counting numbers and giving suggestions where I was consulted. I think being good at math is pretty much one of my only redeeming qualities in Lady Genna's eyes. That and the fact that I didn't complain too much when she made me help Maester Creylen with the invitations for the feast. Every house in the Westerlands was invited, even some from the Reach and the Riverlands. Not all of them turned up, of course, but common courtesy asked that every house with close ties to Casterly Rock were given the option to celebrate the nameday with us.

The food and beverages were the best among all the day had to offer. This winter has nearly come to an end, and the merchants have brought plenty to eat and drink from Dorne and from across the Narrow Sea. Dornish Red wine, a particularly sour variety, was offered to everyone in large doses, as was Arbor Gold, which is rather like champagne. More than anything during the feast though I wished for beer, which unfortunately doesn't seem to have been discovered yet. A pity if there ever was one.

I was introduced to many guests as well, lords and ladies and future lords and ladies I would be expected to entertain in the near future as the Lady of Casterly Rock. Some of them were charming enough, I suppose, but I found many of them to be the yes-men kind of people that have already made their presence clear around the Rock. They are the kind of people who will blindly agree with whatever Lord Monster says, and in his absence, Ser Kevan. A few of the younger men seemed interested in meeting their future liege lord's future wife, but some of them didn't bother hiding their disappointment, which Jaime was sure to subtly joke about all evening. Again, just like him. These heirs had all been the type to treat me like some dunce dimwit fit only for childbearing, and hadn't liked it at all when I'd not given them complete attention. Narrow-minded people annoy me, and whatever disregard I was able to show some of them was worth Lady Genna's fury the next day. How the woman had found out, only her seven gods knew.

Tytos Brax was probably one of the more decent heirs I spoke to during the feast, and I held a conversation with him for far longer than all the others combined. He even told me that his father had once approached Lord Hoster for a betrothal to me, something that, to my pleasant surprise, drove Jaime to scowl. What made me smile, albeit guiltily, was when the next day I heard how Tytos Brax had been thrashed heavily in the practice yard not only by a young squire named Sandor seven years his junior, but also Jaime himself.

notes: Penultimate chapter! Some things are clarified, and we have a special guest appearance. Are there any speculations about Maggy's prophecy? ;) Thank you for the comments on the previous chapter. This is probably the longest chapter I've written in this story (though the first Uprising chapter is nearly three times) so I really would appreciate reviews about it. We have only one chapter to go, and as soon as I upload that, I will upload the the sequel - titled Uprising - so you don't lose track of the series. Until next time. Cheers :)