Author's Note: I've surprised myself by updating twice in one week! I'm on holidays at the moment so I'm trying to write a few chapters for all my stories before school starts again. Also, I started a Daenerys/OC fanfiction that's on chapter four at the moment which features Robert's brother Lyonel as an OC. It's called A Storm of Fire. If you like Baratheon OCs, then check it out!

Anyway, here's chapter nine!

Dark Horse

Lyarra's head was becoming sore from all the numbers. She was finishing off the accounts for that week. Managing the accounts of Casterly Rock was a duty she shared with the steward. While she kept track of the money coming and going out of the castle, Gerold Peckledon was in charge of keeping track of their finances on a wider scale. He managed the accounts for Casterly Rock and also the Westerlands as a region. Although Lyarra had always enjoyed accounting, her pregnancy was making her tired and unable concentrate as well as she used to. Perhaps it's time to ask Peckledon to take over completely. Before she could finish her thought, she heard someone barging into her solar and looked up immediately. Jaime stood before her desk, looking angry.

Growing fed up of his mood-swings, Lyarra snapped at him, "What is it now?"

"Your mother has kidnapped my brother," he told her, tossing the letter on the desk in front of her. Lyarra picked it up and leaned back in the chair, scanning through the letter. "She believes that House Lannister has wronged House Stark. Where would she get that idea?"

"I don't know, Jaime," Lyarra snapped back.

"Before your mother left with the boy-"

"Bran."

Jaime rolled his eyes and continued on. "Did she say anything to you? Anything at all?" Lyarra placed the letter on the desk in front of her. She looked up at him, her eyes blazing as her blood boiled with anger. Jaime glared back at her. "Don't lie to me, Lyarra."

"I told you before and I will tell you again," Lyarra said slowly, her voice low and dangerous. "My mother and I did not exchange so much as a single word the night she left." She was interrupted by a loud groan coming from Jaime as he grabbed roughly at the hair on his head. She added frustratedly, "I'm not lying!"

"You do realise how serious this is, don't you? Your mother has taken my brother, without reason. If we were to know what your mother thinks she knows, then perhaps we could reason with her and Tyrion would be freed. If you were to just tell me, we could avoid war!"

Lyarra narrowed her eyes at him. Did he think she was a simpleton? Or a child, perhaps. "Why are you so worried? Did you do something that has you on edge?"

He pointed his finger at her, an angry scowl on his face as he struggled to keep himself from shouting, "I have done nothing, wife. Whatever you and your mother think you know-"

"Like what?" Lyarra stood up, gripping the edge of the table. She watched Jaime closely as he paced up and down her solar. "You're acting very suspiciously for someone who has 'done nothing.' Perhaps you're the one whose lying!"

Scoffing, Jaime turned around to her again. "Catelyn Stark is not the type of woman to leave her beloved daughter in the middle of the night without bidding her farewell. Or even giving her a reason. Did she leave you a letter? A note? Come on, Lyarra. I am not a fool."

"Nothing. She left nothing!" Lyarra exclaimed, unable to stop her voice from rising. "I don't know why she left. But judging by your state of panic, she obviously had a very good reason. I ask you again, what did you do?"

She didn't need an answer. She didn't want one, even. If he had a hand in hurting her brother, they would never be able to salvage their marriage. All hope Lyarra had of a happy life for her and her children would be gone. Lyarra didn't want that. But she would not allow herself to be painted as a criminal when Jaime was obviously not innocent himself.

"I did nothing," he repeated, more quietly and less angrily this time.

"Are you covering up for someone else?" Lyarra questioned. Jaime didn't reply. The queen. The queen did it. She could forgive him for protecting his sister. After all, if Robb did something terrible, Lyarra would lie for him without a second thought. Lyarra was becoming impatient. She scoffed and looked away from him. "How am I supposed to be honest with you, when you won't be honest with me?"

"Because you are my wife," he replied. "You are supposed to answer to me."

"That's not fair," Lyarra complained, sitting herself down on the chair again. She rested her hand on her stomach, trying to calm herself. This stress is not good for the child. I must be calm.

"That's how it is." Jaime narrowed his eyes at her, watching his wife closely. "Did she make any mention of wanting to kidnap Tyrion before she left?"

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't talking to her," Lyarra repeated herself, irritation sharp in her voice as she rubbed her stomach with her hand in an attempt to keep herself calm.

"Did she make any mention of kidnapping him in her letters to you?" Jaime asked her. Lyarra glared at him, disgusted by his accusations. He was accusing her of conspiring against him and his family. Though she might have lied to him about meeting with her mother, she never once did anything to hurt his family. The same could not be said for Jaime.

"No. She never mentioned Tyrion once," she answered him shortly.

"Show me them." Lyarra looked up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. "Show me her letters."

Lyarra had enough. "I will most certainly not," she snapped, aghast. Did he truly think her to be so dishonourable? Her family was of far greater reputation than his. Her mother's reputation was superior to his own. How could the Kingslayer, of all people, dare to accuse her of such treacherous actions?

"I command you to show me her letters," Jaime repeated. "Lyarra..."

"You do not command me," she retorted back at him, glaring at her husband with all the anger she had in her. "I will not show you any of the letters my mother sent me. You will just have to take me by my word. I have not once done anything to cause harm towards your family – nor have I plotted behind your back. Now, can you honestly say the same?" She waited for his response. For him to dodge the question, yet again. But Jaime said nothing, so she repeated, "Can you?"

Jaime flinched back. His face softened, his eyes never leaving hers. "Lyarra..." he began before Lyarra cut him off.

She let out a short, derisive laugh. "As you see, I am kept in the dark by everyone. How could I possibly know anything?" She paused, waiting for him to say something. To apologise. Anything. She should have known that her husband would never do such a thing. "If you wouldn't mind, I have to finish up the accounts." Some of us have duties other than skulking around all day and picking fights, she wanted to add, her childishness getting the better of her, but she forced herself to remain civil. Instead, she focused on finishing the accounts.

Jaime didn't stir from his spot in the centre of her solar for what felt like forever. Lyarra only looked up at him when she heard the shuffling of his feet. She watched him leave. As soon as the door was shut, Lyarra leaned back in her chair, hand on her stomach, and became engulfed by her thoughts.

"There are so many of them," Lyarra commented as she and Genna stared out the window at the arriving bannermen and their armies. She wanted to warn her uncle, but Lord Tywin made sure that someone checked her letters before she sent them. Ever since news arrived to Casterly Rock about Tyrion's capture, Lyarra's life was suddenly very restricted. She felt like a prisoner in the place that was supposed to be her home.

"The Lannister army is the second largest in Westeros," Genna told her proudly as she too stared at the arriving forces. "50,000 men. Second only to the Tyrells, who have 100,000. The Tyrell army is made up mainly by untrained infantry men, while we boast a large amount of cavalry and trained infantry."

"Why is Lord Tywin preparing for war? I thought he was only sending Ser Gregor to pillage the Riverlands to punish my mother," Lyarra asked, turning to Genna for an answer. The older woman looked reluctant to give her one. Lyarra became worried. "Oh no, what is it?"

Genna hesitated before finally deciding to tell her good-niece. "Your father has been accused of treason by King Joffrey and is now in the black cells, awaiting his trial. The North has not reacted well."

"Of course they haven't!" Lyarra exclaimed, her breathing becoming much faster than usual. "What grounds could Joffrey possibly have to justify putting my father in a cell?"

"Your father accused Joffrey of not being the rightful king. He claimed the king was illegitimate," Genna informed her, watching her closely for her reaction. Lyarra made sure to school her expression into one of shock, instead of showing the curiosity she was feeling.

"Where did he get that idea?" Lyarra asked. The gears in her head were turning. It all made so much sense. Cersei – or her lover, whoever he was – pushed Bran out of that window when he saw them together. Perhaps the queen had been having an affair for decades. Lyarra wouldn't blame her for that – if the king could have his affairs, why couldn't the queen? – what she did fault her for, however, was pushing an innocent child out of a window!

It was now more clear to Lyarra than ever that Cersei was guilty. Jaime must know. That's why he's been so paranoid. He's protecting Cersei.

"The gods only know," Genna said, sounding exasperated. "But your father is an honourable man. He must have had reasons to think such a foul thing of my niece. Do you know what they might be?"

"No idea." Lyarra was getting fed up with the constant accusations being sent her way by Lannisters. Nobody told her anything. The Starks considered her loyal to the Lannisters and the Lannisters considered her loyal to the Starks. The realisation made her feel lonely. "When is his trial?"

"We don't know that yet. Hopefully soon, so he can be declared innocent and sent on his way home. This silly business has to be put to bed quickly, before anyone gets any silly ideas." Genna shook her head, eyes glued on the men entering their home.

"Oh, like what?"

"Like an uprising. We certainly don't need another one of them," Genna said.

"Isn't that what's happening now?" Lyarra asked, looking down at the armies gathering. She saw her good-father and husband standing outside to welcome his bannermen. "Between my– between the Starks and the Lannisters?"

"No, my dear. This is not an uprising," she explained. "This is a war between two noble houses caused by a simple dispute. If Westeros was ruled by women, we wouldn't have such useless conflicts. But alas, we are ruled by proud, egotistic men. Now, we must welcome these men into our home. Shall we?"

Lyarra nodded, wanting nothing more than to crawl back to her room. Her back hurt, her emotions were all over the place and the last thing she wanted was to welcome the men that were at war with her brother into her 'home.' But Lyarra realised she had no choice in the matter, and so she walked towards the entrance to the castle and greeted the men as they walked into her home. Some greeted her coldly, others dismissively, some were friendly enough. Lyarra couldn't find it in her to care. Her thoughts kept drifting off to her father, alone in a dark cell in King's Landing. The most honourable man in Westeros – imprisoned for treason? It didn't make sense to her. Her father wouldn't make an accusation like that unless he was certain.

As Rhea readied her for dinner, Lyarra barely spoke. Her mind was a whirlwind. Jaime was lying to her. Her father was imprisoned for figuring out the truth, the truth that Jaime had kept from her. To think that she had felt guilty for lying to him, when he was keeping such a huge secret from her! You stupid, stupid girl, she chided herself. To think I almost considered my self in love him. Never again would she be so naive.

Just as Rhea was finished getting her ready, Jaime strolled into her bedroom. Lyarra didn't spare him a glance. "You're still mad."

"I am not mad," Lyarra insisted, scoffing. She folded and put away some of clothes she had been making for their baby, choosing to do anything but look at her husband.

"No?" Jaime said, not quite believing her. He placed himself in the seat beside the fireplace, crossing his legs and relaxing into the chair nonchalantly, as though he hadn't a worry in the world. Far from the Jaime from yesterday. Lyarra couldn't keep up with his mood changes. She was getting sick of trying.

"Did you know?" She whipped around to face him, fixing Jaime with an accusing look. Jaime merely looked at her for a moment, startled by her quick change in demeanour.

"Know what?" he asked.

"About my father," she clarified. She heard her voice shake and cursed herself. How was she to seem strong when she felt so weak, so vulnerable? She let out a quick, hysterical laugh. "He's been imprisoned. For treason. Did you know?"

"Lyarra, I couldn't-"

"Don't lie to me," she said, still laughing as she mimicked his voice from earlier. "You seem to like saying that to me so much. Don't lie to me. But you've lied to me, haven't you? Over and over again."

"What are you talking about? Are you drunk?" he asked her, appalled.

"Of course I'm not drunk!" she exclaimed. "If only I was. Don't dodge the question. Did you know?"

Jaime sighed and uncrossed his legs, sitting up in the chair as he chose to address her seriously, for once. "I did." Lyarra scoffed. "But I never lied to you," he defended himself. "It's not lying when you didn't know."

"Oh, so you just kept information from me. It's the same damn thing," Lyarra accused, her anger getting the better of her. She knew that she should calm down – for the baby, if nothing else.

"I did it for your own benefit," Jaime defended, rising from his seat and walking towards her. Lyarra glared at him as he approached her. "I knew how you'd react. You get overworked about things. It's not good for the baby."

"So you just decided to just not tell me? That solves the problem." Lyarra shook her head, very irritated. She heard Jaime sigh. She gave him a look before sitting down at the end of her bed, breathing deeply to calm herself. "What do you think will happen to him?"

Jaime softened. He sat down beside Lyarra and exhaled. "I don't know. Joffrey can be... unpredictable."

Lyarra nodded silently. She bit her lower lip, wondering whether it was a good idea to ask him if what her father said was true. She turned her head to look at him and decided not to, remembering that they had to sit through a lengthy feast. Jaime stood up and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he said, sounding no more excited than she was.

"Unfortunately, yes," Lyarra replied, linking her arm with his and allowing him to lead her to the Great Hall.

They were seated at the top of the table, near Lord Tywin. Genna was the only other woman in attendance, the rest were loud, over-confident men boasting about their successes in battle in the hope that Lord Tywin would hear them and put them in charge of the vanguard. Lyarra wanted nothing more than to retire to bed, but she had a duty. She would have to live amongst these people for the rest of her life. She had to make an effort, even if that meant sitting through endless feasts and nodding politely as men boasted to her of their accomplishments.

Just as dinner started being served, Lord Tywin ended all small talk and started speaking about the upcoming war. Lyarra tried to pay attention. Usually, such talk would interest her greatly, but she was so tired. All she could think about was her father and sisters in King's Landing. Here she sat, feasting amongst his enemies as he lay in a cell.

"Forgive me, my lord," Lord Lefford spoke again. Out of all the bannermen, he seemed to speak the most often. He was also loud enough to deafen her. "But I must raise a concern – why is a Stark feasting with us, when it is House Stark we are waging war against?"

"If you are referring to my wife, then the answer is quite simple," Jaime replied, giving Lord Lefford a smile that cut like a knife. "Because she is my wife." He gave him a look that would make most men back down, but Lord Lefford was obviously of tougher stock than most men.

"I mean no offense, my lord." Lord Lefford's apology was insincere and a mere courtesy, and so the lord continued on. "But we cannot ignore the possibility that she might have Stark sympathies. It might be... unwise to allow her to be privy to our battle plans."

Enraged, Lyarra opened her mouth to respond – of course she had Stark sympathies, but she was an honourable woman and knew her duty too! – but before she could, Jaime subtly shook his head, signalling her to be quiet. Lyarra obeyed him and closed her mouth, seething silently.

Surprising even her, Lord Tywin rose to her defence. "You ought tread carefully, Lord Lefford. To accuse the Lady Lannister is to insult House Lannister itself. I'll hear no more of this. We have more important matters to discuss." Tywin gave him a look that commanded no further arguments. Lord Lefford nodded, a glare upon his face as he reluctantly stayed quiet. "Ser Gregor has already taken a host of men and is ravaging the Riverlands as we speak."

Lyarra gulped, hoping to push back the tears in her eyes. Her mother's home was being ravaged. Sensing her distress, Jaime placed a hand on her knee and gave it a quick squeeze. The dinner seemed to last forever. Lyarra tried to ignore it all, yet her mind chose to torture itself by listening to every detail of every battle plan. By the time the dinner was finished, her mind was filled by horrible images of Riverrun surrounded by Lannister men, of her mother and brother being killed, of Winterfell burning.

As Jaime led her to their bedroom, she found herself sick with worry and speechless. She was too preoccupied by her thoughts to speak. Jaime sat her down at the edge of her bed and kneeled in front of her.

Though she was still angry at him, Lyarra felt a deep need to be comfort and let him comfort her. "Over the next few days," Jaime began carefully, "while we prepare for war, you are going to hear a lot of terrible things. Things that will be especially terrible to you because it effects your family. I am not stupid enough to think that you are unquestionably loyal to us, nor bold enough to expect you to be. But for the sake of our child, ignore it all. Pretend its not happening. The meetings, the taunts, the threats – all of it. Just... go away inside."

She blinked back the tears in her eyes and found herself speaking more harshly than she intended to. "What will that do?"

"Prevent you from losing our child, that's what," he snapped. Used to his quick temper. Lyarra barely reacted to the sudden change. Jaime took a deep breath to calm himself and continued. "Women are known to have stillbirths when under stress. And whatever you do, don't do anything rash while I'm away."

Lyarra rolled her eyes. "When have I ever?"

Perhaps it was the sharp change in her mood because of her pregnancy or the fact that her good-father had ignored her for the last twenty minutes, but Lyarra was starting to become very irritated.

He was the one who had summoned her after all. And yet, since she walked in twenty minutes ago, he had done nothing but write letters and documents. Every time he finished one she thought that he might finally turn his attention to her, but then he simply picked up the next sheet of paper and started writing again, and so the cycle went on. He didn't even look at her.

How rude. Lyarra seethed internally. No wonder Jaime is the way he is. Rudeness runs in the family. She narrowed her eyes at him and sat back in the chair, knowing that she wouldn't be addressed any time soon. As soon as she made herself comfortable, Tywin set those accusing green eyes upon her and started speaking.

She almost sighed with relief. Finally!

"You must be wondering why I summoned you," Tywin stated, placing his pen in the ink-pot.

Lyarra wasn't going to lie. "I am."

"Firstly," her good-father spoke to her so formally. There was nothing familial about Tywin Lannister. "I must express my surprise. You've managed to win over most of my bannermen, despite their initial distrust. You did well. Better than I expected."

"Thank you," was all Lyarra said in response, though inside she was delighted with herself.

"Apart from Lord Lefford, of course. But I don't think that man could get on well with anyone of House Lannister." Tywin paused and narrowed his eyes at his good-daughter. Lyarra flinched at the scrutiny. "You've proven yourself well. Because of this, and because of sheer necessity, I've decided to leave you in charge of the Westerlands in my stead while I'm away – along with my sister Genna, of course. But to keep face, it is important that my heir's wife is seen to be in charge."

Lyarra blinked, very much surprised at his decision. Her and Genna would be the only Lannisters of age to remain in the castle, but she thought her status as a Stark would make her ineligible for the role of regent. "Your bannermen won't take that news well."

"My bannermen will learn to respect my son's wife or suffer the consequences," Tywin said. "You're not a Stark anymore. You are a Lannister and I expect you to act as one. That means no silly business – no conspiring, no treachery. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Lyarra nodded.

"I have given Genna the power to overrule any of your decisions if they seem unwise or biased in favour of House Stark. How you act in the coming months will determine where your loyalties lie. Try anything, and you will never be given such trust again. Prove yourself to be a capable regent and it will benefit you greatly."

"What do you mean?" Lyarra asked, never one to be subtle.

"I'm not going to live forever. Nor will my brothers or my sister. Someday, Jaime will be left in charge of the Westerlands. My son can do nothing but fight and, perhaps with some tutelage, he might become a capable battle commander. He does not have the head for ruling, nor the charisma. I've tried to make him a good ruler when he was younger and again in the last few months. I have not succeeded." Tywin narrowed his eyes at her again. "Genna has advised me to turn my hopes to you. I trust my sister's judgement. Don't make me regret it."

She understood what he was saying. The thought of ruling an entire kingdom thrilled her. She never thought ruling would interest her, yet the thought of being regent made her more excited than she had ever thought it would.

"I won't," she promised. Gruffly, Lord Tywin gave her leave. As soon as she entered the privacy of her bedroom, Lyarra squealed like a child.

As she stood at the centre of Casterly Rock's large courtyard, Lyarra was reminded of a time only a few months ago when she had to bid farewell to her family. Though she was not as attached to Jaime as she was to her family, Lyarra still wished he didn't have to go.

She walked over to her husband who was tending to his horse. Unsure of what to say, she decided on asking him, "Are you all set?"

Jaime turned around and grinned at her. "Very much so." The grin fell from his face when he remembered that it was her family he was going to war against. Jaime sobered. "It is unfortunate that I am going to war against your family, but you must understand, I live for battle. To fight."

Lyarra nodded, understanding. What a life that must be. Lyarra disapproved of his thirst for battle, but said nothing more on the matter. War meant that her family and her husband's were divided. War meant that her husband would not be there for the birth of their child. War meant that she may never see her family again. Quite simply put, Lyarra loathed war, while Jaime seemed to live for it.

"I should be back within a few months," Jaime told her. "If this dispute is not solved diplomatically, then it should not take too long to defeat the North. Their men are not nearly as well-trained as ours." Lyarra stiffened. Jaime must have noticed as he continued on, "Hopefully no one has to die for such a stupid dispute." Lyarra understood his meaning. Even if he had to say it in a concealed way, he wasn't looking for her family's blood.

"I hope so too."

"You'll write to me, as soon as you have the baby," Jaime asked her.

She smiled, glad that the topic had changed to a much lighter matter. "Of course I will." As though the baby heard them talking about him or her, Lyarra felt a stirring in her stomach before she felt sharp jab against her abdomen. She smiled, knowing what it was. Laughing to herself, she grabbed Jaime's hand and placed it on her stomach, ignoring the strange look he cast her. "It kicked me!"

"It?" Jaime repeated, but was silenced by Lyarra's glare. He pressed his hand against her stomach, a grin forming on his face as he too felt the baby kick. He chuckled to himself. "He's strong."

"He?" Lyarra echoed.

"Only a boy could kick like that," Jaime stated. His hand lingered on her stomach for a little longer, feeling the baby kick once more before drawing his hand away again. They heard Lord Tywin yelling for them all to mount their horses. "Take care of yourself, won't you? And the babe, when it comes."

Lyarra nodded, resisting the urge to correct his use of the word 'it' to refer to their baby since he was going off to war. "I will. You take care of yourself too."

"I always do," Jaime smirked at her confidently. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before mounting his white horse gracefully.

"Don't die!"

"I haven't yet, have I?" he called over his shoulder as his horse trotted out of the gate. Lyarra watched them go, a familiar feeling in her stomach.