Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews! It means lot to me that people are reading this crackship fanfic.

Disclaimer: GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

In the Lion's Den
part v

Tywin paused for a second, looking her in the eyes, and then took a sip of wine. "I cannot bring your children back," he finally said, "no one can, not the seven or the old gods your late husband followed." He set his goblet down next to hers. "Should your daughter Sansa be found, she will be pardoned, as a peace offering from me to you. My daughter seems to believe that she and Tyrion plotted Joffrey's murder, but from what I saw of the girl…"

Not her Sansa, no. The look on Catelyn's face, betraying her, seemed to convince Tywin of what he himself was already thinking. She too had heard the whispered rumors that Sansa and Tyrion Lannister had poisoned the boy king, but she knew that, no matter how far Sansa had been pushed and tortured, she would not be capable of a cold-blooded murder like Joffrey's.

Catelyn turned away from him, unable to mask the growing emotions inside of her. She didn't want him to know just how weak she felt. She imagined that a show of weakness was terribly unattractive to Tywin Lannister; and though by no means was she trying to be attractive, she couldn't bear the thought of him looking down on her or being disgusted with her in any way. She would not break in front of him. Swallowing the rock in her throat as discreetly as she could, she asked, "When will the wedding be held?"

"In three weeks."

She turned to him questioningly. "I thought it would be sooner."

"In a hurry to be a married woman again, are we?"

Catelyn stiffened. "You jest, my lord. I would sooner die a widow than marry you, but it seems as if I have naught the choice."

Tywin allowed himself the smallest of smirks, but then turned serious again very quickly. "You need to announce the wedding, the treaty, and your forgiveness to Westeros. Before the wedding happens, people need to know why it is happening. There will be more rebellions to squash. Ravens must be sent as far as can be – to the rebellious Riverlands, the uncontrollable North, even the cold shoulder that has become the Vale." Catelyn did not want to think of the Vale, but Tywin seemed to already know what was crossing her mind. "The lack of response from your sister when your family went to war and disarray was very curious indeed."

"She was afraid."

"She is weak." Tywin looked at her in a way that made Catelyn wary; it was as if he was sizing her up, like she was the prey and he was the predator. It made her skin flush. "You are…very different, Lady Catelyn. Not a warrior in the sense that most men think of, but of the mind." That smirk quirked his lips again. "It would seem as if my daughter has been trying to be you and failing. You were not the Queen Regent for your son Robb?"

"No, he was a man grown, even at a young age. The North hardened him – as did the murder of his father."

Tywin pressed his lips together. "Your son was foolish, but he was wiser than my grandson. He needed a Regent, but my daughter knows half of what you do about politics." Catelyn was surprised at his blunt honesty, which he seemed to catch onto almost immediately. "If this marriage is to work, even if it is just a political sham, we are going to have to be honest with each other, even if it means professing hate or disdain. We may not care for or love one another, but there will be no discord between us. We're civilized people, Lady Catelyn, in a very uncivilized world."

She didn't want to tell him what she thought of that. Civilized people did not do what he did. They did not order their mad dog to burn lands, rape women, torture men, and kill children. They did not plot a boy's murder when their own son was still in the grasp of that boy's men. They did not callously put a woman who had lost their entire family in a position like this. No matter what Tywin told her, he would always be a monster to her; nothing would change that.

"May I return to my room?" Catelyn asked, beginning to feel weak and woozy. Her stomach was turning far too much to be comfortable, and she put her hand on the table to hold herself up.

"There's just one more thing," Tywin announced. Catelyn resigned herself again, raising her tired eyes to him. "At the wedding, you'll be wearing Tully colors."

Catelyn wasn't sure why that upset her so much, considering she was a Tully, but she'd put on the colors and the honor when she took the Stark name and became Ned's wife. "I've been wearing the Stark colors for sixteen years; I gave birth to five, Northern Stark children. I have not…"

"You are a Tully, Lady Catelyn, just as you were born and always have been," Tywin told her, unmoving and uncaring. "I know how you work; I've seen how you live. You have always lived by the Tully words – Family, Duty, Honor."

But winter comes for all in the end.