Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for reading. I always appreciate it!

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I'd be a happier person in general. GRRM owns all of them and kills me instead.

In the Lion's Den
part iv

Thirty minutes later, the door opened and a knight in white armor stepped inside. He was one of the Kingsguard, though she did not recognize him. She couldn't help but wonder if this man had laid a hand against her daughter, something she had been told about by one of the serving girls. Gone were the days when the Kingsguard were filled with men of honor. She did not hide her revulsion. "The Hand will see you in his chambers," he said, his voice rough and lukewarm. Perhaps he made a move to hold her by the arm, to look chivalrous, but she blew past him, her shoes clipping on the stone floor. She could hear the sound of his armor clinking after her. She was embarrassed to not know where the Tower of the Hand was exactly, but the knight caught up with her easily enough and guided her the rest of the way without her having to admit it.

When they reached Lord Tywin's room, Catelyn was sure that she had lost all of her resolve. She wanted to run back to the bedroom and hide under the blankets. She could not do this. She could not handle this. She could not live like this, not while her sons and daughters and husband and parents were dead, all dead, and she was alive and breathing and for what purpose. So she could marry her enemy? Were the gods so cruel?

A deep breath shuddered through her body as the door opened and she was pushed in by the knight. When the door shut behind her, she knew that she had come to the end. Tywin Lannister was no less imposing in his court clothes than in his armor. He was dressed in the Lannister colors, golden and red like blood. He was a striking figure that was not to be trifled with. The court and small council, after all, were just fields of battle. She wished Ned had had his prowess in politics, but Ned had been an honorable man. There was no room for honorable men in politics.

"Lady Catelyn," he said, turning to look upon her, "I had not expected you so early."

"I'm sure you did not expect me to come at all." Soften your words, her conscience warned, but Catelyn paid it no heed. She would bend to Tywin, as she had not been given a choice, but she would not break. Not for him at any rate. "I accept the offer. I will not fight it."

Though he did not smile necessarily, Tywin looked pleased. "It gladdens me to hear that." He poured two glasses of wine, walked to her, and handed her one. The goblet was cold in her hands. "You must understand that this is for the best of Westeros. There are many wounds between us that will not be mended, but perhaps through our peace, there can be a peace through the land."

"What if peace doesn't come for the Riverlands and North like you hope?" Catelyn asked, trying to mask her fear. She did not want to think of what would happen should this plan fail. There was a chance he would lay the blame on her. She had spent the better part of the night wondering about this aspect. "What if this incenses them more or if they do not even care? I am just a woman. If the North and the Riverlands did not bend to you, why do you think they will bend to me?"

"You will tell them to – or rather, you will beg them to. Reason with them. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me" – it took everything in Catelyn not to hiss at the word – "then they must too." He never took his eyes away from hers. They were close now, just a foot apart. She could see him clearly now, his intelligent eyes green like moss, his face serious yet cunning. "You will never forgive me, I know that, nor do I expect you to. But all the injustices that the North seek to avenge were done to you. All the wrongs they fight to right were done to you. If you cast those away, if you even pretend to let go of them and move on, then what does the North have left to fight for but the ghosts of your sons and husband?"

Catelyn gripped the cup tightly. "But what if it fails?" she asked in a whisper.

"Then it fails," Tywin said simply, "and I will smash them until they can only stand on their knees." It was as much as Catelyn feared. She thought of Edmure and how proud he'd been when he'd held Tywin's army at bay, all those months ago. It felt like those days had never happened. Unexpectedly, he put a finger under her chin and lifted it. "No harm will befall you. Once you are my wife, you will be treated with respect. I saw what my grandson did to your daughter, when they were still betrothed. I know you consider me a monster, but I will not beat you or put my guards on you. You have suffered enough for your disloyalty."

Disloyalty, he called it. The war her son raged against his family and the Iron Throne. Suffered enough, he said of the deaths of her family. If anything, she had suffered too much. The cost would be high, she had known, but the seven, war, and Tywin Lannister had taken everything from her, even her ability to mourn as a widow.

"Even if this does not bring peace to the lands, our marriage will benefit us in other ways," he continued. He spoke so exact; there was not a drop of emotion in his words. It made her head spin or maybe it was the wine on an empty stomach. "With Jaime in the Kingsguard and Tyrion on the run, I need an heir for Casterly Rock. Cersei refuses to leave her children. You've had five children, all healthy when born." And all dead now. "Another child will not replace the ones you lost, but it may help you heal."

"Nothing will heal the loss of my children," Catelyn told him coldly, setting the glass down. "Ask your daughter how she feels or your brother Ser Kevan Lannister, and then we will talk about my children."