Author's Notes: This is a long ass chapter because a) I feel guilty about taking ten million years to update; and b) there wasn't a good break without it being absolutely tiny and ending on a cliffhanger. So fwah.

Disclaimer: Ya'll know these aren't my characters.

"Be there at seven sharp," was what he'd told her the night before.

He hadn't told her why, had only been slightly gruff with her when he spoke, but whenever she tried to inquire about why she was supposed to be in this specific room at seven at night, just before supper, he had simply brushed her off. She'd felt strangely irritated at the way he'd done that, as if she had grown used to him telling her things. And maybe she had grown used to that. It wasn't like he kept a lot of secrets from her; and there were really no secrets to have. He seemed to know almost everything about her; and she felt like she knew so much about him. Whenever it came to his dealings with the small council, she knew that he would tell her if he felt particularly frustrated with the other members. He seemed almost thankful that it was Tommen on the throne and not Joffrey, who would've tried to stick his nose into things.

"The boy was regrettably…a mess," he had told her a few nights ago. She hadn't commented in return. It was probably fine for him to insult the dead boy king, but it wouldn't be for her. Besides, he knew her feelings on the matter. Despite having been a child, she thought that Joffrey had been a monster. He'd had her husband beheaded and had commanded the Kingsguard to beat her daughter. A mess did not begin to cover it. "I will make sure that Tommen is different."

"He's a good boy," she'd murmured.

Tywin had snorted at that. "A good boy, yes, but still weak. He'll need to be stronger to rule this kingdom. He might have been a drunken lout, but the people of Westeros admired Robert Baratheon for his strength."

Of course he was right about that. For all that Catelyn adored Tommen, for however good of a boy he was, he was not exactly the strong type. He was sweet, gentle even; and she'd grown to love that about him. He reminded her of Sansa, in his own strange way. Rickon had been a fierce babe; Bran too inquisitive and adventurous; and Robb honorable and careful. No, Tommen still believed in songs and dreams, just as Sansa had before she had come here and lost everything. She could not help but worry that Tywin would take those things away from Tommen too in an attempt to make him stronger and less gentle. Perhaps a kind touch was what the kingdom needed, after all that it had gone through with the war.

All these things rested on Catelyn's mind as she traveled to the room that Tywin had told her about. She tried to think about those things instead of what lied in the room. It was strange to think that Tywin was giving her a surprise. After all, that was what it was in the end. He wouldn't exactly say that he wanted to surprise her or give her something – that wasn't how he worked – so he turned it into an order. Over the past few months, she had grown very used to reading in between the lines when it came to Tywin Lannister, to the point where she was even beginning to see him in a new light, however begrudging it was. The man was ruthless, but there was something about him, something underneath all the cunning, somewhere hidden behind his coldness… Just something that she couldn't put a finger on.

When she finally reached the room, she knocked on the door, but no one responded. Twisting the handle, she found the door unlocked and pushed it open, only to reveal that there was no one in it. Curious, she stepped inside and looked around. There was nothing spectacular about this room. It had a few decorations, a lounge chair, a painting that seemed forgotten. The Red Keep was large and had so many rooms in it that seemed pointless. It looked as if no one had been in this room for ages, much less actually used it. There wasn't even a window in here, just four stone walls and a door. She walked over to the painting, running a finger along its frame, and found it covered in dust. What had been the point of coming here?

The door open behind her; and Catelyn turned around to face it, wringing her hands tightly in front of her. The first person she saw was a gold cloak that she didn't recognize, so she bit her lip and said nothing to him. The second person was Ser Broderick, who poked his head in with a cheerful smile on her face. She felt herself relax and let out a breath she hadn't even known that she was holding. "Lady Catelyn," he said, stepping inside and more or less pushing the other gold cloak out of the way. The man looked affronted, but seeing as how Catelyn walked to them and smiled fondly at Broderick, he said nothing.

"What's going on?" she asked him. He would tell her the truth; he would be honest with her. Even when he wasn't supposed to tell her things, she always managed to needle them out of him. It was a wonder why Tywin kept him around since Broderick couldn't keep anything from her.

Even now, he seemed like he wasn't supposed to say anything, squirming under her gaze, but the smile never left his face. "Lord Tywin thought best if the meeting took place outside of the Tower of the Hand, away from…" He glanced at the guard next to him. "What did he call them?" He looked quickly back to Catelyn. "'Nosy birds,' I think he said."

"Meeting?" Catelyn furrowed her brow, feeling suspicious and uneasy. Tywin had told her to come here for a meeting. But what kind of meeting? At this time, he would probably be with the new Master of Coin, going over details about a new tax being proposed, so it wouldn't involve him. Unless that meeting was tomorrow or it had just been a lie that he'd concocted up. Besides, what meeting would involve her? She wasn't involved in the court, not when it came to anything political or official; she was just stuck with the ladies of the court and they never did anything serious or important. "Ser Broderick, do you know what it's about?"

In a way, Broderick looked much like a child now, seemingly unable to stand still. "I think it best you find out for yourself." He stepped outside of the room for a moment, but when he came back in, he wasn't alone.

Standing next to him, his hands still bound together, was Edmure.

Edmure's downcast blue eyes lit up immediately upon seeing her. "Cat!"

Catelyn could not hold back a cry of "Edmure!" as she threw her arms around her younger brother, squeezing him tighter than she'd ever hugged him before. She could tell that he wanted to hold her too, but he could not. For a just a moment, she stepped back and looked at the gold cloaks in the room. "His hands need to be unbound." Broderick and the two other gold cloaks looked at each other. "Please."

Broderick pulled out the keys. "If he somehow escapes from this room, we'll deserve to have our head on spikes." The other two muttered in agreement; and Broderick stepped forward and unlocked the shackles on Edmure's wrists. He smiled weakly, rubbing at his wrists. Broderick nodded to her and then he and the other gold cloaks left the room, locking it behind them, so that only Edmure and Catelyn were in the room.

Reaching out to him, Catelyn put her hands on his scruffy cheeks. He'd either grown a beard or hadn't been allowed to shave in a while; it looked more like the latter because it was growing in patches and needed trimming. She gave him a careful look over, noting how his beard was hiding a sunken in face, as if he wasn't getting enough to eat. His clothes were nice, red with blue trimming, nothing to suggest Tully except for the colors, but she could tell that he was thin underneath them as well. More than anything, he looked exhausted and nothing like the sweet, cheerful young man he'd been the last time she'd seen him.

Gods, the last time she'd seen him had been at the Twins, at his wedding…

"They wouldn't allow me to see you," she said quietly, her bottom lip quivering despite herself.

Edmure wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and pressed his face into her hair. "I asked of you. They wouldn't let me see you either. I tried, but I… They were cruel. They told me you were dead; and I…I didn't know what to believe." He sounded so pained, so miserable. How long had he thought her dead? She had known right away that he was still alive, being held hostage, but she hadn't been able to do anything about it.

She was older than him and she had taken care of them as a mother would when he'd been a child, but he was taller than her now, a man grown; and yet she could feel hot tears spilling into her hair. They came to her as well; and she held him close, remembering what it felt like to not be alone. He still smelled like Edmure too, even if he looked older than ever before. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think that she was much more well off than he was. In terms of status, she was above him. He was no longer the Lord of Riverrun, but she was the Lady of Casterly Rock.

(She was the Lady of where he was being held prisoner.)

Slowly, they both pulled back, so they could properly look at each other. Catelyn never wanted to let go of him. She knew that he would be sent away again; she knew that there was a strong possibility this might be the last time she ever saw him. There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him, a million things she needed to ask him, but she couldn't find the words. All she could think was, He looks so defeated. And he did. His shoulders were slumped; there was such a tired look about him; and even his smile, though true, was so faint.

Edmure gulped down a lump in his throat. "You look…" His eyes raked over her; and she saw tears in them. She knew that he would not cry for her to see, at least until he was out of sight and alone, but seeing them hurt her nonetheless. "You look well, Cat." His voice broke when he said her name, like he couldn't believe just how well she was doing. Seeing him here, now, made her realize just how well off she was. Yes, she was a prisoner like him, in her own way, but unlike him, she was held to a high regard, she could never want for anything materialistic, she was cared for. What did he have?

Catelyn suddenly felt horribly and incredibly ashamed.

"Perhaps I can speak with someone and you can stay here for a while," she told him, clinging to his hands. She could feel him pulling away from her, so she hold onto him tighter. He stopped moving, never looking away from her. The sad look he gave her made her want to flinch away as well, but she did not; she just kept looking back at him, almost pleadingly. Forgive me, brother, she wanted to say, though she couldn't say why. Everything that she'd done in the past months came rushing back to her; and she hated every second of it. "You'd get better care here."

Did I forget who I was? she thought wildly. Did I forget my family, my honor, my duty?

Try as he might, his smile did not grow any stronger. "Are you saying that I look unwell after I paid you a compliment?" The joke fell flat at their feet, but both of them ignored it.

"I'm saying that I missed you," she said quietly.

I'm asking for your forgiveness for being happy.

When had she become happy? When had the pain slowly started to recede? She still felt stabbings of guilt and grief, but they came less often, though they were still overwhelming at times. But when had she started to smile for true?

"I can't stay here," Edmure replied, frowning and looking to the ground. "They won't let me and I…I have no place in King's Landing–"

"You do," Catelyn insisted, "with me."

"–but I do have a place at Casterly Rock still," he finished. Catelyn couldn't help the puzzled and hurt look that came upon her face. Her grip on his hands lessened just slightly. Edmure glanced at her belly and then her face. "Roslin is with child."

"Roslin?" Catelyn blinked. "Your Frey wife?"

This time, when Edmure smiled, she saw a flicker of happiness in it. "They took her as a captive to Casterly Rock too, I suppose in hopes that it would keep Lord Walder Frey in line." His eyes went down to her swelling belly again and stayed there this time. "She will give birth soon. She's scared that it will be a boy and the Lannisters will kill him. She's scared that they will kill me and her child won't have a father. She's scared, Cat; and I cannot leave her to herself like that."

Her little brother was going to have a child. They would have children that would be the same age. The idea of her child and his child growing up together, playing together, fighting together – it gave her more hope than she could ever dare to have. So many times, she was scared that her child would grow up in this world alone – King's Landing was not a place that bred deep friendships and love – but she could dream of maybe Edmure's child being fostered here or her child being fostered at Casterly Rock. They were going to give Edmure a bit of land and a little castle to make his own. It could work. He would still be a highborn. He was still her brother. It would… It had to happen.

"You will be a good father."

Edmure laughed mirthlessly and pulled away from her. "How can you say that? I cannot give my child a proper life. He or she will be born a prisoner or will have their life snuffed out before they can live it. I am no better than a common peasant at this point. I might as well be having a bastard."

Catelyn felt weak and foolish and she reached out for him again. "Edmure, please–"

"No!" He jerked his hand back and stepped away from her. "I am nothing now. I look at Roslin and I feel guilty for what I've put her through. She is a good woman, Catelyn. I know you may think ill of her, but she wanted no part of the…of anything." His blue eyes were filled with a pain that she was all too familiar with. It reminded her of what he'd looked like after their father's death; and she did not know how to comfort him. He always grew distant with her in his grief. He always did, even as a very little boy when their mother died. "She deserves more than this. My child deserves more than this. I have failed them both. How can you say that I will be a good father when I have nothing to give them?"

"Because you are a good man, Edmure," she told him, putting a hand on his arm. He flinched, but did not pull away this time. That gave her small comfort. He was mad at her – or rather, not at her, but the hopelessness of the situation. She knew that feeling all too well. She thought back to when she had gone to Tywin's chambers and he had told her of his plan to marry her. "Because you are kinder and truer than any man I know." She smiled at him. "Do you remember when I first came back to Riverrun? You had commoners staying inside the castle walls to protect them, even though we did not have the resources." He bit his lip. "I thought to myself, My little brother is so foolish, but my little brother also has a stronger heart than I."

"Little brother…" He closed his eyes and let her pull him closer to her.

"Family always comes first," she whispered as she hugged him again. He was limp in her arms at first, like he didn't know what to do with himself and didn't have the energy to try, but slowly he returned the hug, becoming fiercer as the seconds ticked by. The hug reminded her of their uncle, the Blackfish, who would hug her as fiercely as he could in front of everyone. He never once cared what people thought of him whereas Edmure had always been nervous about what people said about him.

When he pulled away again, Edmure wiped at his eyes somewhat nervously. "When I heard that you were marrying Tywin Lannister, I grew…" It was like he couldn't find the words for his feelings. She knew what that was like as well. There was no easy way to gauge how she had felt. "I became very wroth and despondent at the same time – and confused. I did not understand why…"

"Truth be told, I did not have much say in the matter," Catelyn pointed out.

Edmure shook his head. "I didn't think so… But then rebellions grew smaller in the Riverlands and even the North. People just…gave up. I suppose I understand now why you did not fight." When his eyes flickered to hers, there was a sheepish look about them. "I read the letters that were sent out to all of Westeros – your letters that Lord Tywin had you write before the wedding."

At this, Catelyn turned a little pink and felt a prickling of guilt. "How false did they sound? You know that I am not talented at lying."

"I thought they rang true," Edmure told her. Catelyn did not know how to take this. Her face softened as she looked at him as he continued, "Well, I mean, not true – but… They sounded like your words and not Lord Tywin's." A more confused look came over her. "I mean – no, they were his words, yes, but… Catelyn, you have always been a woman of peace. You did not war. You fought against it from the moment it began. Even when the Lannisters took away from you, all you wanted was for the fighting to cease." He looked away from her. "We ought to have listened to you, but it was summer and we were drunk from our own glories and follies."

He had grown, her little brother, aged years and years beyond his actual age. She saw in him the person she had been months ago, locked away in an unknown chamber with food sitting untouched on the table by the window. Her heart ached almost more than she could bear and part of her wanted him to leave so that she could mourn again. She had never been good at mourning in front of others. When their mother had died, she'd locked herself in her room to cry alone; after the funeral, she'd ran out of the castle and gone to the river, wading into the shallow water in her gown, and stared off into the distance as she cried for the last time over her mother. The Tullys draw their strength from the river, she remembered, just as she had as a girl, but she hadn't gotten a surge of strength then and there were no rivers here now.

"How is your…? I mean, how are you doing?" Edmure seemed suddenly uncomfortable. She could see the way he struggled for the appropriate words, as if afraid that he would upset her or say something unkind. This was how she knew that he would be a good father, how she knew without a doubt that he was a good person. Even in light of everything that had happened, even though she had seemingly given up and resigned to her marriage with the enemy, he could not be mad at her, not truly. She loved him for it more than anything. "Lord Tywin, he is… Is he treating you well?"

The question itself was loaded. When he looked at her though, she saw the begging in his eyes. She saw what he truly meant: he could not bear the idea of his sister being treated badly on a daily basis. He could not stand the idea of his sister being married to a monster.

All of a sudden, she was thirteen again and Edmure was four, holding her hand tightly as Brandon Stark was riding up to Riverrun for the first time; and Edmure tugged her down to say in her ear, "I won't let him marry you if he's mean. I won't let him. He has to be nice to you, Cat. I won't let any boy be mean to you."

It broke her heart.

"Lord Tywin is…"

And Catelyn did not know what to say.

In fact, she had no words to describe her husband. How do you describe a man like Tywin Lannister? He was the enemy; he was her husband; he was the plotter of her son's murder; he was her confidant. He was ruthless and brilliant and cold and gentle and hard and… And so much more. She hated him – yes, seeing Edmure now, she hated him – but then if it wasn't for him, she would not be in the same room as her brother again. She had no doubt in her mind that it had been Tywin's doing that had brought Edmure here to her. She had been distant and despondent since Tommen's name day celebration. Perhaps he worried over the unborn child's well-being if she continued being depressed. She wasn't sure. His sporadic acts of kindness were done with military precision, to the point where no matter how random they were, they felt planned to her and yet also honest.

How could she possibly put all of this into words for Edmure when she could not even fathom them herself?

"He is good to me," Catelyn finally settled on, knowing full well how inadequate the words were.

"Good to you?" Edmure repeated. Maybe inadequate was a bad word – more like unbelievable. "Think of whom you are speaking of, Cat."

"I am," she insisted, her voice pained and patient. When her brother just gawked at her, she sighed, her hand fluttering to her belly absentmindedly. "It is hard to explain, Edmure, believe me. When he forced my hand in this marriage, it was cold and calculated. I could not have hated him more – and I do, I…I do hate him. There are just times when it is easier to forget." She gripped the material of her dress, her thoughts heavy on the child. What would their child look like? A child born of winter, a Southern child, yet filled with the sense of the North. "It sounds absurd and silly, but I have seen a side of him that others have not. While others have mocked and talked about me behind my back, since our marriage, he has only ever treated me with the utmost respect."

"Respect? He did not marry you out of the goodness of his heart. Did he respect you when it came time for the bedding?"

"Edmure!" Catelyn felt a flash of hurt, like he'd stabbed her. He seemed to know it too, but he did not apologize for it. "Things are…complicated."

He shook his head at her. "You've been here too long. You are letting yourself get fooled by your own play. You've pretended to be happy for so long that you're starting to believe it yourself." As hard as it was to hear him say things like this, Catelyn could not help but silently agree. Far too often she had wondered if perhaps her little bit of happiness was a lie. She'd faked her smiles and laughs for so long that it was almost becoming easy to think that some of them were real. (And maybe they truly were.) "I wish I could take you away from here."

This time, Catelyn was the one to laugh. "And where would we go? Riverrun belongs to the Freys now. Would I trade my prison here for a prison at Casterly Rock?"

"No, you don't want to leave here, do you? You get to wear pretty dresses and eat all the lemon cakes you want and sleep in a comfy bed with the most powerful man in Westeros. This isn't a prison for you, Catelyn; it's your new home."

As soon as he said the words, she could tell that he wanted to take them back. Edmure shut his mouth abruptly and just looked at her, a mixture of horror and shame in his eyes. The pain that Catelyn felt was all too real and sudden. Try as she might hide it, the tears sprung to her eyes almost immediately and she stepped back from him, her body shaking under the weight of the guilt that she felt. (Because he was right. This was more like a home to her now. It wasn't so much of a prison any longer, though she felt the bars and shackles every now and then still. But the fact that he would just throw that into her face….)

"Cat," Edmure began pleadingly, "I didn't… I didn't mean that… I know this hurts. I know… I know you are a prisoner, just a different kind… I…"

Stepping away from him more, Catelyn reached back with her free hand until she found the arm of the chair. Feeling more faint than ever before, she slowly collapsed into the chair, her legs trembling. Her eyes were somewhere else, locked on a random stone in the wall; and she felt like she was folding in on herself, as she had done during the ride to King's Landing from the Twins. She felt lost in that distant fog that hadn't been around since her wedding to Tywin. Edmure was saying something, anything, begging her to come back to him, but she couldn't hear him, could only see him opening his mouth out of the corner of her eyes.

It was only when Edmure was in front of her, on his eyes, one hand on an armrest and the other gripping her hand on her belly, did she hear him say the words, "He is all you have now. I should understand that since all I have is Roslin."

But Edmure loved Roslin. She could hear it in his voice and see it in his face when he talked of her. She did not know how it was possible or what had come about during the time both of them had been held captive since the Red Wedding, but they had grown to love each other. They were going to have a child together; and Edmure was scared and Roslin was scared and all they had were each other.

And what did she have? She lived far more comfortably than Edmure did. But did Tywin love her? No, she could not fool herself into believing that. He had married her because it was the politically proper and best strategic move to do? She was nothing more than a pawn to him, a prop to get a new heir on. When he was done with his use of her – and he would be, all too soon, if their child was a boy – then she would no longer be of any use to him. He might throw her out or send her away to Casterly Rock to be forgotten and left to rust and turn to dust, along with her grief and misery.

"Edmure, I…" Catelyn felt herself tearing up again. She didn't want to, but she could not stop it.

("I won't let any boy be mean to you," her little brother had promised on a fine summer day three lifetimes ago. "I'm your brother; and Father says that brothers are supposed to protect their sisters. You don't have to be scared ever.")

"I don't know what to do anymore," she told him. "I'm scared."

For the child, for her brother, for herself, for everything.

Edmure reached up and put his hands on her face where tears had begun to fall down in streaks. "You need not be scared. You've got me."

And she had Tywin. He had harmed her so much – and yet he had protected her as well. Whenever anyone said anything against her, he always acted as her shield. No one said anything anymore, except for Cersei, but that was to be expected. People may have said things behind her back, but she was only treated respectfully to her face. She was the wife of the Hand of the King now. When she stepped out into the public eye, Tywin was at her side; and sometimes he would hold her hand and squeeze it just once, like a reminder that he was there and she never needed to worry again. She wanted so badly to be able to convey this to Edmure, to convince him of something she wasn't even entirely sure of herself, but she didn't know how.

The door opened in that moment; and Lord Tywin stepped into the room. Edmure went to pull away, maybe even bow thought he was already on his knees, but Catelyn gripped him tightly and kept him in place. She could feel his nervousness in the way his hands began to shake and how his face grew pale in a matter of seconds. He became the little brother she felt the need to protect right before her eyes, no longer the one comforting her.

He is afraid of Tywin, Catelyn thought, feeling a little stunned to realize that she did not, at least not anymore. When had that happened?

"My lord," Edmure greeted in little more than a mumble, his eyes downcast. He seemed intent on not looking the other man in the face. Catelyn could not help but frown at that. Even at her worst, she had never once looked away from him. Even during their wedding, she had looked him in the eyes, determined to show him that she would not be cowed. When Tywin turned his green eyes to her brother, she felt a pang in her heart when she realized that Tywin would not have to return the comment, as Edmure was no longer a lord since Riverrun had been taken from him.

From us, they took Riverrun from us.

"Is it time for me to be returned to Casterly Rock?" Edmure asked, still looking at the ground.

Tywin did not say anything. He merely nodded his head and two guards stepped into the room behind him.

"My lord, please," Catelyn said suddenly, pushing Edmure's hands away from her and standing up. She stood up too quickly though and nearly fell back into the chair. Tywin took a small step forward, reaching out for her, but it was Edmure that caught her, grabbing her by the elbow and holding her up, even though he was in an awkward position. "Thank you, Edmure." He nodded his head, looking her in the eyes. They had the same light blue eyes, but his were filled with fear and it cut her like a knife. She walked to Tywin, slipping out of Edmure's grip. "Must he leave tonight? Could he stay here, just for a week? There are plenty of rooms he could stay in; I'm sure Ser Broderick would not mind standing guard though I can assure you that he wouldn't try to escape."

"Not while we have his wife and unborn child," Tywin pointed out.

Catelyn narrowed her eyes. "That is cruel to suggest."

"It is the truth."

For a second, she wanted to slap him. Truth be told, she had not wanted to slap him for a long time. It felt somewhat strange to feel the urge again, but she swallowed it down. "Please, my lord, I have not seen my brother in months and the last time I saw him I thought it would be the last time. An hour with my brother is not enough."

"He needs to be returned–"

"He needs to be with me," Catelyn interrupted fiercely. "A week, my lord, just give me one week for the months that I have been robbed of him. He is… He is all I have left."

Tywin fixed her with a look that was almost cold. He hadn't looked at her like that since…since he'd told her that she was to marry him. It surprisingly hurt her more than expected. She couldn't understand why he was acting like this with her now when he hadn't for so long. Was it because Edmure was here? "And what will he do while here? Will he traipse about the Red Keep with you? Will he visit King's Landing? He is a prisoner, not a guest."

"He is my brother! Am I your prisoner too?"

And then the room went silent. Catelyn felt her body shaking with anger, but perhaps, maybe there was finally a bit of fear in her as well. She had stood up to Tywin before, but it had always been in private. They never once argued in public; and if she ever felt cross with him, she kept it to herself until they were alone in their bedchambers. This time around though, there were three other people in the room. She knew before she even began that it wasn't her place to argue with him, but this was her baby brother and she missed him and she needed him and she had never felt more alone than when Tywin had come to take him away from her again.

"Please, Tywin," she said quietly, knowing quite well that she would suffer the consequences, "it will lift so much weight from my shoulders to just spend time with him for one week. I'll never ask anything of you again."

Tywin did not look away from her as he said, "Take the prisoner back to his room. I need to speak with my wife alone."

Edmure jumped to his feet clumsily as the guards moved towards him. "My lord, I'll go back to Casterly Rock," he said hastily. When one guard reached for him, he feinted to the right and then took step steps closer to Tywin. "My sister is weary from the pregnancy. I-I asked if I could stay here for a week, as I worry for her, but–" The guards finally got a hold of him. Still he struggled as they put him back in chains. For someone that had so much fear in his voice, he was acting quite difficult. "Please, my lord, I won't fight going back."

Catelyn suddenly realized what he was doing: he was trying to protect her, as brothers should their sisters. He was taking the blame for her outburst, no matter how absurd it was, so that Tywin would not punish her. He was scared for her, not for himself. She wanted to take his hand and reassure him, but she could not move from her spot, not with Tywin fixing her with such a hard gaze.

"Take him," was all that Tywin said.

"Catelyn–"

She held up a hand. "I'll be fine, Edmure."

The look of uncertainty on his face was the last thing she saw before the door shut on him, leaving Catelyn and Tywin in the room alone. She knew that she should be concerned, perhaps even afraid, but she was angry and tired as well. It felt far too cruel to see her brother, only to have him taken away from her so quickly. Their time together had been far too short. She had so much more to say, so much more to ask him. Her heart only seemed to ache even more now that she had seen him. A part of her wished that she hadn't, so then the memory of what she was missing wouldn't sting quite so sharply.

"I cannot believe you would speak so disrespectfully to me in front of others," Tywin finally said, breaking the icy silence that had fallen between them. She said nothing. Instead, she looked him in the face, determined to not look away, no matter how much she wanted to do so. "I tolerate it when we are alone because I want you to be honest and open with me, but in front of guards? In front of prisoners?"

"Stop calling him that," Catelyn snapped.

"That is what he is, Catelyn; and you must accept that," Tywin told her.

"You don't call me a prisoner."

"Do you feel like one?"

She bit her lip. No, she didn't, not anymore. In the beginning she had, locked away in her room, always guarded, but now she had free reign of the castle, of the city even. She could travel wherever she wanted to here and speak with anyone she wanted. Of course she had to watch what she said, but that was the price of living in the Red Keep. Everyone had to watch what they said here.

"If you speak like that to me one more time in front of others, I'll–"

"You'll what, Tywin? Honestly, what else could you possibly do?" The anger dissipated from her voice almost instantaneously. She knew that she should be furious with him, but instead she was just suddenly so very tired. Her back ached, her feet hurt. Her mind was spinning and all she wanted to do was lay down and cry if she could not see her brother again. "Will you lock me up again? Forbid me to see others? Will you hurt my brother?" She could tell that he saw the flaw in his words, but he would not admit to them. "What could you possibly do to me that you have not already done?"

Tywin put a hand on her arm, which startled her more than anything. "I did not mean for this to hurt you."

"A week is all I ask," Catelyn said again. She knew that she was begging and she hated it, but she did not think she could bear to part with Edmure on this note. It would only break her heart further. "I won't speak to you like that ever again, I swear."

"At least not in front of other people," Tywin replied, kissing her on the forehead gently. "No one is nearly as honest with me as you are; and honesty is the one thing that this place both lacks and what I need."