Lannisport was in flames, the outward edges of the city closest to the sea were burning in the distance, and the Lannister fleet was busy sinking to the bottom of the port, with whatever was left above the water on fire. From the balcony that was attached to his solar, Tywin stared into the flames with a tight jaw, lifting a glass of mulled wine to his lips. He took a small, calculated sip before returning it to his cupbearer, a young Crakehall boy, a cousin to Ser Lyle Crakehall who was still within the walls of Casterly Rock.

"Dramen, you fool." Tywin said blankly, in a tone one could mistake for apathy, save for a low undercurrent of absolute rage. Whoever organized this attack was an idiot if they thought they could do so freely, without any sort of pushback. They insulted Tywin, attacking his bannermen and distant kin, they insulted House Lannister, burning his fleet and attempting to sack Lannisport, the largest city in the Westerlands which rivaled King's Landing and Oldtown. The doors to his solar creaked open, with what sounded like half a dozen footsteps following. Tywin kept his hard eyes focused on the burning docks.

"Brother." It was Kevan who spoke up, his voice grave and serious. "We have received a raven from the Gold Keep, the Ironborn wish to sack the city. Lord Dramen calls upon Casterly Rock for help." Well, that answered the question of who would be stupid enough to think this was a 'smart' idea. For a given definition of smart in any event.

"And Casterly Rock shall answer." Tywin said coldly. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a city sacked for a city sacked. If Balon Greyjoy wanted a war, then he shall have it. He finally turned around. Kevan, Gerion and Tygett were both standing behind his desk, all in varying stages of undress. Kevan was already in plate armor, a full-helm in his hands. "Tygett, marshal every rider, available or not and Kevan, I leave you to muster our foot. Gerion, I leave you in command of the Rock until my return. Double the guard, the only Greyjoys I shall in here will be in the dungeons, or have their heads on spikes."

Gerion, his youngest brother, had his trousers sagging along with a shirt that was several sizes too big. His pale face was red, with dark markings along his neck and shoulder. Tywin gave him a sharp glare. Gerion had brought that whore back into the Rock once more had he? His brother's usual lazy grin was gone, replaced by a dower glare, one that Tygett imitated. Tygett had managed to make himself presentable, with a red doublet with a golden lion etched on it.

"As you command." Kevan responded, crossing an armored hand over his chest. He moved to leave, leaving him alone with Gerion and Tygett, but paused when Tywin slowly raised a hand to stop him.

"We leave when I give the word, no sooner and no later." Tywin continued. "We are not common rabble that shall charge in a disorganized manner without a battle plan, we are Lannisters."

And Tywin's reputation was ruined with the burning of Lannisport, if he did not proactively take steps to ensure nobody was going to perform a repeat. Evidently people's memories of the Reynes and the Sack had faltered a bit, so he felt a need to be a bit more creative this time around.. If any Lannister of Lannisport ended up dead or as a saltwife, it would sink even lower. They may not have been members of the main branch, but they still held the name of Lannister. An unprovoked attack on them, was an attack on Tywin himself. He waved them off, his brothers had work to do. Tygett and Gerion left without another word, while Kevan bowed his head ever so slightly.

"Bring my squire." Tywin told the Crakehall boy, who was silently standing in the corner, still holding the goblet of wine. The boy looked up, shocked at being addressed by his superior in such a manner "And have him bring my armor."

"Y-Yes my lord." The boy squeaked like a mouse despite his large size. The Strongboar must've been very disappointed with his kinsman. Still, he was just a boy after all, he would learn. The Crakehall scurried away, leaving Tywin alone in his solar.

The realm would soon know of this embarrassing defeat, yet there was an opportunity at hand, even if it was rather expensive. It seemed that Balon Greyjoy needed to be reminded that Tywin Lannister still had claws, long and sharp enough to cut any squid to shreds with ease. The fool should've learned from the Reynes of Castamere. Tywin narrowed his eyes as he grabbed a quill and an expensive sheet of parchment to write. If that idiot Robert was going to find out, then he would by Tywin's own hand. He felt his jaw tighten as he started to write.

Tywin could already hear that buffoon laughing. Whether at him, or a chance to go out and smash some skulls once more, he was uncertain.

In the end, Tygett had managed to gather four hundred horses, heavily armored knights and lightly armored outriders that should be able to easily run down any unorganized rabble. Kevan gathered double that in foot, drawn from the men-at-arms that were sworn to Casterly Rock, visitors that had brought their entourages, and from nearby garrisons. Even in the night, the banners Crakehall, Marbrand, Brax, Broom and Lorch were easily visible. It was an impressive amount of men, gathered so quickly on such short notice. They were gathered just outside of the south gate, in the direction of Lannisport. Tywin's three brothers were already armored and on horses by the time he arrived, mounted on the finest horse in the Westerlands and wearing an expensive set of armor.

"Brother." Tygett spoke first. His long blonde hair and bushy beard made him look more lion than man. He wore full-plate as all of Tywin's brothers did, with full-helms decorated with lions and lionesses. Two hundred men on horses stood at the edge of the gathered army. Some of the finest knights in the Westerlands were waiting for his orders.

"Take your men and ride for the docks." Tywin said, his horse clopping past his brother, towards the knights chosen as part of the vanguard. "Have your outriders report back how far the Ironborn have penetrated our defenses. Kevan shall follow behind with his foot." Kevan would take half of the foot, heavily armored pikes and swords to drive the entrenched Ironborn out of the streets. He already had his orders, as the most reliable of Tywin's brothers.

"Very well, Brother." Tygett said, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. He could complain all he wanted, but he would still do his duty for the family. He could work with that. He didn't have to like Tywin, just fear the consequences.

"I will take the rest of our men and reinforce the Gold Keep." Tywin's horse continued walking, each step slow to conserve energy for now. "From there I will organize our defenses and deploy reinforcements as needed." Tywin would lead from the rear, he would leave the fighting to the younger and more foolish men. He knew his strengths, and would play to them in the fullest.

"Ser Lyle, you're with me." Tywin said loud enough for the large man, a knight in full armor with a boar on his surcoat, to hear. The Strongboar was a fierce warrior, one of Tywin's best, and easily controlled, unlike Ser Gregor Clegane. Relieving Lannisport would require a delicate knife, not a warhammer that could possibly kill or rape one of Tywin's kinsmen. Ser Lyle would be a worthy bodyguard for this engagement. "Lorch, bring the banner."

"Yes, my Lord!" Ser Lyle boomed, his great-helm echoing his words. He held a long lance in his hands, with a morningstar strapped to his side. He seemed almost eager to kill, but it was restrained. Tempered, one could say.

Ser Amory Lorch, an ugly pig-faced man, who wore unmarked armor approached Tywin, holding the banner with the Lannister sigil high in the air. Their squires carried torches, providing them light until morning arrived. Tygett approached him, his destrier eager for bloodshed. Tywin raised his hand in the air, and after a few seconds, lowered it.

"Casterly Rock!" Tygett yelled, unsheathing his sword and raising it high in the air. With that he charged, his two hundred men following closely behind with their own shouts and battlecries in battle formation.

"Lannister!"

"Hear Me Roar!"

"Death!"

The two hundred horses soon disappeared into the night, just barely visible due to the torches they carried. Tywin's annoyance was hidden by his great-helm, modeled after a lion with ruby eyes. He urged his horse onward, the infantry and other horses behind him. "Forward!"

It was time for a new song to be written.

The streets of Lannisport were cleared by the time Tywin arrived. Honest smallfolk had long barricaded themselves in their dwellings, hoping for the fighting to end before it reached their homes. That didn't matter, if Lannisport had to be burned to ashes in order to create a better, richer city, Tywin would throw the first torch himself. Still, that didn't stop the smallfolk cheering from their windows as Tywin's army entered the city, the gates opened by the members of the City Watch left to guard the rear. It still felt gratifying, knowing all his efforts would be appreciated, even if it was by the sheep of his flock.

"Go on ahead and take a score of riders to the Gold Keep, ensure the area is secured." Tywin ordered Ser Lyle, not even giving the Strongboar a second look. The lions did not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, they would do as commanded.

"As you command, Lord Lannister." Ser Lyle boomed before riding off, yelling at the dozens of lances that marched ahead of them. Kevan had already parted ways, leading his four hundred foot to reinforce Tygett and Lord Dramen's forces fighting at the dockyard.

Lorch lowered the banner just slightly, his armored arm likely tired.

"Lower that banner another inch and I shall have you sent into the thickest part of the fighting." Tywin said evenly. Lorch was a bloodthirsty beast, but even monsters had some sort of self preservation. And it would not do to keep them where they would be left unsupervised.

"Yes, my Lord." Lorch responded, his high pitched voice doing little to hide his anxiety. Tywin would've chosen a better, more competent man to hold the Lannister banner, but he needed those men to lead sorties to drive the Ironborn out of Lannisport by the time morning came. If nothing else, Lorch was useful in this aspect.

The rest of the march continued in silence, with knights covering the front, sides, and rear of Tywin's advance, just in case an Ironborn or two decided to be even more daring. The sound of his foot marching, their armor clanging and battle cries from around the city formed what sounded like music. They soon reached the outskirts of the Gold Keep, Ser Lyle and his riders forming a defensive position close to the drawbridge. Tywin's guards opened their ranks, allowing him to push his destrier onward in a trot.

"Why hasn't the drawbridge been lowered?" Tywin gave the moat a glare. A fortress in the middle of the city, the Gold Keep was built centuries ago by the first Lannisters of Lannisport, built to withstand attacks from the Ironborn. Each time they had sacked the city, the Lannisters would rebuild stronger and better, learning from their past mistakes.

"They have not been answering our calls." Ser Lyle explained. He could hear the faint sound of swords clanging and men yelling coming from within the keep.

"Lorch, secure the drawbridge." Tywin narrowed his eyes. Something was not right here. Even if Dramen had been incompetent in defending Lannisport, he should've at least left a heavy guard to ensure the safety of the Gold Keep. If only to preserve his family.

"My Lord?" Lorch was only a few paces behind Tywin, alongside two knights in Lannister armor. Apparently Lorch hadn't learned to stop questioning his betters, and was keen on being in the vanguard.

"Hand the banner to Ser Damion and take the drawbridge." Tywin did not like having to repeat himself. "You do have experience scaling walls, don't you? Take thirty men, that should be more than enough."

Lorch shivered in his armor and nodded as much as he could with his heavy armor. "I shall do as you command, my Lord."

"Bring our crossbows forward, I want no surprises." Tywin started his short ride back to the column of men-at-arms, Ser Lyle following closely behind him. If Lord Dramen had lost the Gold Keep, then he was more incompetent than Tywin had thought.

What an embarrassment to the family. At least he wasn't as bad as the Imp was, but Dramen was rapidly proving himself a equal before too long.

To Ser Amory Lorch's credit, he had quickly taken the walls after commandeering long ladders and crossing the moat. The man was brave enough to scale the walls of the Red Keep, and was the perfect pawn to use. They threw a dead body over the walls, splashing into the waters below. The body turned the nearby water red, and wore a chain shirt over boiled leather, an Ironborn. With the Gold Keep captured, Tywin's organization of Lannisport's defenses would have to be delayed. Especially after a bloody skirmish in the courtyard that had three of his men injured and one dead.

Still, the Ironborn had taken heavy losses before they retreated back into the Keep itself. That was the last thing Tywin needed, a siege within a siege even if he had the advantage of numbers on his side. He remained on his horse, overseeing the men-at-arms that formed a defensive position around him.

"Captain Vylarr, take your men and hunt down those filthy Ironborn that remain." Tywin kept a firm grip on the horses' reins. Ser Lyle had dismounted, and stood a few paces ahead of him, his morningstar in his hands.

A man in Lannister half-plate and mail armor stepped forward, his face hidden by his half-helm. Vylarr kept his hand on the pommel of his sword. Before he could speak, the large set of double doors slammed opened as best as they could. Within seconds two dozen crossbows were aimed at the newcomer, an older, bloodied man wearing Lannister armor. He dropped a bloody short sword on the ground before approaching and dropping to his knees before the wall of armored soldiers.

"M-My Lord! You have arrived just in time." The strange man looked up, attempting to meet Tywin's eyes that were hidden by his great-helm. "M-My Ladies Lannister, the raiders wished to take them as saltwives, they've taken the keep! Lady Lefford and Peckledon as well!" The crazed man rambled and yelled.

The squids wished to take Tywin's kinsmen as saltwives? An insult to all who bore the name Lannister and his bannermen, this was not an insult that Tywin was not going to take lightly. Tonight was just proving that the madness of House Targaryean was causing yet another mess for him to clean up. And this time it wasn't even Aery's fault.

"Do you know where the Ladies are?" Ser Lyle was the one who spoke up. His voice was calm, and yet, there was an undertone of eagerness in it that said he was anxious to fight and kill, actual foes no less.

"Yes! I can lead you to them." The man groveled. Tywin pursed his lips together for a few seconds before dismounting from his horse. He ignored his squire who attempted to help him.

"Lead onwards." Tywin placed a hand on the handle of his ruby encrusted sword.

"My Lord, this could be an attempt to ambush you." Ser Damion approached, his visor lifted. He was not much of a fighter, despite earning the title of 'ser'. Where had the knights of his childhood gone? If any of the knights he'd served with as a squire had seen this excuse for a knight, they'd rip the spurs right off his armor.

"I will not sit here and continue to watch the family name ruined." Tywin kept the growl out of his voice, turning his attention back to the lowly guard. "Lead onward. Ser Lyle, if he attempts to betray us, kill him first." He was sure the Strongboar grinned under his helm.

The Guard bowed his head once more. "Y-Yes my Lord."

Within minutes the halls of the Gold Keep were filled by Lannister soldiers, killing and exterminating any Ironborn they came across like the vermin they were. Robart, as the guard called himself, led Tywin and a score of knights down several twists and turns. Dead guards seemed to litter every hallway, their blood coating the dark walls of the Gold Keep. A waste, but a sign that at least Draven had left a fairly strong garrison in the Gold Keep.

"Through here, my Lords." Robart said loudly, his voice echoing through the corridors as they turned right at the next section. There was a body beside a door that was smashed open. Robart scurried towards the door, popping his head in. "My Ladies! Help has arrived."

Tywin heard the whispering of women not even a second later. Raising a fist, he ordered Ser Lyle and the other knights to remain behind by a few paces and approached the door, grabbing a nearby torch. There were three bodies near the door, not just one.

Two wore old armor, and died with a snarl on their faces. They were several feet apart, and died like animals, as they deserved. The third body was the closest to the door, wearing expensive chain and boiled leather, with a longsword of castle forged steel in his hands. It was an older man, around Tywin's age. His green eyes were still open, yet they held no signs of life, with his chest caved in. He must've been a distant Lantell or Lanny, from a minor cadet branch. He vaguely recognized him from somewhere in his past, but he was not certain where. Still, he had done his duty, and would receive the honors he was due in death.

Without another look, Tywin entered the dark room. Robart was near the back of the room, helping a woman with long silver hair to her feet, along with the two girls that accompanied her. They looked disgusted and were on the verge of vomiting due to the four dead bodies that laid on the ground closest to the entrance. All four laid in a pool of their own blood, with one missing an arm, two with their throats slashed, and another with a broken blade protruding from his right eye.

Tywin felt his eyes drawn toward the only girl standing in the room, her gaze focused on the Lord of Casterly Rock. She was a small thing, her night gown caked in blood and gore. Even with the light from the torches, her white hair was stained red, and the dagger in one of her hands bloody. Her pale hands firmly held onto her two blades, one redder than the other. She looked like she had walked through a warzone.

Yet, what caught his attention the most, was her eyes. Sapphire blue, cold, and unyielding, the girl stared at Tywin without fear. She had her knees slightly bent, ready to pounce like a lion, like a Lannister. For some reason, they sent a slight shiver down his spine, they reminded him of when Ser Clegane had been knighted, he had the same look in his eyes when swearing the oaths.

"Did you do this, girl?" Tywin asked. He doubted that a little girl could take on four full grown men, Ironborn raiders at that, and live to tell the tale. Yet, if she wasn't the one who massacred them, who did? There was no window or other door to the room, and she was covered in blood. A maester would be able to determine how injured she was, and the dead Ironborn.

"Yes, my Lord." The girl said respectfully, bowing her head. At the very least, she knew her place in this world.

"Impressive." Tywin removed his helmet. The girl's cold blue eyes slightly widened in shock, showing she wasn't just putting on a mask. "Not many men could take on four warriors and survive, even amongst my best men, even less a lady such as yourself. Very impressive."

He would play along for now, at least until he had enough proof to prove that it wasn't this little girl that killed those men. She wasn't Jaime, but she could always prove to be useful in other ways. And if she was, well, he could see the advantage of a blade being able to go places where a knight could not go.

"Thank you, my Lord." The girl curtseyed, recognizing him as her overlord. She certainly knew her manners.

"What is your name, girl?" Tywin ignored the knights that entered the room behind him, assisting Robart the lowly guard with the three other ladies. His attention was solely on the waif who had proven to be quite the interesting figure thus far.

"Weiss of House Lannister of Lannisport, my Lord." Lady Weiss said, her light voice even and calm despite all of the death she had seen. She didn't speak like a girl, instead she sounded like a woman far older. "Daughter of Lord Dramen Lannister and Lady Ceria Velaryon." A distant relative then, Dramen's grandmother had been a Lannister of the Rock, one of Tywin's aunts.

How interesting.

A/N

Welcome to another long chapter! We really enjoyed reading and discussing all those comments, it's been fun even when some got really close to guessing some plot points.

Leaving that out there to fuel more guessing, but we won't say who/what idea was getting a bit too close. And like Night_Stalker confirmed, RBJY are somewhere else, and will eventually appear. The circumstances will be a closely held secret for now.

We hope today's chapter was fun!