Brienne

The girl was pretty, with long willowy legs and deep brown eyes. "Ser!" She cried out, throwing herself on the road waving her arms. "Please ser stop!" As she got closer, Brienne saw her cheeks were red and puffy from tears. "Oh, thank the Seven I found you! I need your help!" Dirt and mud soiled her simple dress.

Brienne removed her helm.

"Ser-" A pause. "Mi-lady." She said, baffled, gawking at her like she was some oddity. She was an oddity. Taller than nearly everyone she met. Even Renly Baratheon only came to her forehead. She looked more man than woman, with broad shoulders and a distinctly mannish looking face.

"Yes, child?" Brienne asked.

Desperation propelled her forward. "Can you use that sword at your hip?"

"I can, my lady." She replied. "Depending on the cause." Brienne knew she shouldn't be speaking with her. Every moment I waste, Renly ventures further and further away. She had sworn a vow to see him safe from harm. The Lannister pace was breathtaking, and she had yet found the opportunity to infiltrate any camp they made. All she could do was to follow and wait for an opportunity to present itself. But a knight had no choice when it came to the pleas of the weak. I swore a vow.

"Men wearing lions are at my homestead with my sisters-" She busted into another round of tears and couldn't finish. The tears struck her as true, or she was a great actor and should perform in some troupe. It was unlikely to be some trick by brigands to lure unexpecting travelers into a trap. Wicked men would not travel with such a scared child.

"How many men are in your family's abode?"

The young child, no older than thirteen name days, paused. "Uh, five, no four."

"Five or four?" Brienne asked. "Which is it?"

She swallowed. "Five." She grumbled honestly. "But I think the one looks portly." Could I beat five men? The odds were not great, and yet looking into the child's eyes, she had little choice.

"Lead on child." The girl named Naya thanked her profusely.

It was not a long ride and Brienne saw at once Naya had been mistaken. True enough, five men with lion helms were present, but she failed to mention the squire as well. Though mayhaps she didn't consider him much a threat. The boy looked to be anywhere else. Three women cowered together on the ground, clinging to one another, wearing torn dresses. One she assumed was the girls mother. A man lay either dead or unconscious on the ground, likely the father. A mans breaches were down and he was entertaining himself with a maid of fifteen. His surcoat contained arms were purple and white chequy with gold coins in the checks.

"AMERI!" Naya screamed.

All the eyes drew to them. "Stay here, child." Brienne said, dismounting and drew her sword.

"You wish your turn ser?" One of them asked her. "These are our prizes."

"Fuck my cock! That is a woman!" The man with a thick coarse beard realized.

The men laughed. "Ugliest cow I've ever seen. Do you think she has a cock between her legs?"

"One way to find out." He grinned.

Brienne wasn't afraid of the likes of them. "In the name of King Robert The First of His Name, I bid you to stop your crimes-"

The knight shoved his girl to the ground. His manhood flapping in the wind. "You listen here, wench," He sneered. "You best get right on that horse before I decide to shove my cock up your ass until I find whereever your hiding your cunt." She did not back down.

"Puh-Puh Please Ce-Dric." The boy stammered. "Do-nt ne-eed to do it."

"Quiet boy!" He snapped. "You should be thankful. I took you at all."

When she readied her stance. "Looks lads, the wench wishes to fight! Take care of her, Seamus!"

Seamus approached with the same lazy contempt she had seen her entire life. His first blow was lazy and slow, and it cost him his life. She shoved her sword straight through his back. Eyes widened as they slowly realized she was actually a threat. Four left. She charged them while they were still sluggish and disoriented, and smashed her shield into a face and shattered it. He screamed, clutching his shattered nose. Three left a dance of steel followed with a series of powerful blows. Both of the armed brigands tried to overpower and slip past her guard. The man with the coarse black beard nicked her shoulder plate and sent a strand of chestnut hair to the grass. Brienne noted they were tiring as their faces were beat red from the contest and her next slash found its the man's arm to the ground. A pool of blood formed. Two left. A flurry of blows that left her slightly winded. Parry! Counter! Thrusted straight through his throat. He fell gurgling on his own blood. By this time, the so-called knight named Cedric had dressed himself and lunged at her in a ferocious display. It drove her back a step. Then two. Sweat dripped down her brow. She felt the force of each blow like hammers to her shield and sword. Blades locked and her muscles strained as she just shoved him back. A small opening formed, and she took advantage of it, piercing his guard and cutting him in two from groin to chest. Only the squire remained.

"We underestimated you. You're a freakish woman!" The man with the shattered face had recovered and held his blade to Nayas throat. Fool! Fool! She had thought him down with the rest. "Now you are going to let me go now? Or this pretty little thing is going to die here and now." No…

"Release the girl ser. She is an innocent."

"After I'm gone. I'll gladly release her." The man lied as well as he fought.

Brienne took a step forward. "Wrong move, wench." He brought the steel to her throat. A thin red line formed. The women screamed and howled, pleading for him to stop, and it gave her pause. She wished no harm to befall the child.

"I'll swear an oath not to pursue. If you release the girl." Brienne offered.

He gave a bloody smile. "Not happening. Come here, lad." He backed slowly away as the squire picked up his fallen sers sword and joined him, head bent. "Follow me and the girl dies. You-" It was all he said as the squire shoved his blade straight through his heart. He died instantly. The squire's face blushed as he tightened his grip around the sword that was far too big for him. "Mayyyy, I Plu-plu-ease go-gah-go?"

Brienne knew she couldn't let him go. They'll know I follow. Still, he was only a boy, and he had saved the girls life when he had no cause to do so. He seems harmless enough. And she doubted he had taken part in anything. Naya joined her mother, who embraced her tightly.

"Kill him!"The mother screamed. "He's one of them!"

"He's only a boy." Brienne shifted uncomfortably

"Kill him!" The other daughters joined their mother as the boy paled. His arms shook. Even Naya added her voice to the call. And she couldn't blame them. They have suffered, and he has the face of the enemy. Yet, he was no enemy of hers.

Brienne shook her head. "Drop your sword, boy. You are my captive. I shall take you for ransom." He held the same surcoat with the golden coins. Brienne knew his family should pay the ransom. It was common practice for knights and squires to be ransomed back to their families. The women glared at her murderously. "Do you accept your terms of captivity?" He didn't reply, save dropping his sword, which she took as his answer. She bound his hands with some rope as the idea came to her to take the shield and lion helm and the suit of armor. Maybe It could fit her?

"How can you let him live?" Naya screamed at her. "How?"

"Stay back, child." Brienne said. "I am sorry for your suffering."

The mother shepherded her daughters inside their ruined home as she lifted the thin, scrawny boy onto to her steed. They rode for some time and the boy hadn't said a single word of complaint. Nor did he give her any trouble. "Whats your name?" She asked.

He refused to lift his head up from the ground. She didn't press him and had almost forgotten when she they finally stopped for camp and she helped him off the horse.

"Podrick Payne, my lady, ser knight. Thats my name." He said with a sheepish look.

Daven Lannister

His chest tightened as his fingers grasped around the hilt of his blade. A blade as golden as his hair. A gift from Lord Tywin. Men breathed heavily, gazing down through the trees as the formation of Tyrell banners marched along the Oceanroad. As endless as the forest itself. It made one wish he were a craven. How can we hope to stand against such a host? But he had his orders to muster a defense of the Westerlands as best he could. They had peppered the Reach caravans and tried to slow their progress, but they were like bees fighting a bear. The bear hardly noticed their efforts and the pricks of blood they drew. Daven gave a single nod and gave the command arising from his crouched position. Horns blew, sending flocks of birding into instant flight. Boulders came tumbling down into the columns. "LOOSE!" He barked, his golden sword glistening in the sun. Bolts and arrows soon blocked it out. The invaders dropped like flies to the storm of bolts, and a sea of blood drenched the road.

"FOR THE WEST!" He screamed.

"FOR THE OLD LION!"

"FUCK THE ROSES!"

Everyone screamed words to give them courage as they charged down the forested hill. Momentum at their backs allowed them to cut through the soldiers of reach like a knife through butter. His golden sword tasted red. Daven lost himself in guts and blood. It seemed every sigil was of some flower or woodland creature. Every corpse that fell before him made him think of victory. How the rest of the battle fared, he knew not. I named Cousin Lucion in charge while I led the assault. It would give the men more courage to see him charge with them into the fray.

Horns blew as he sent a head flying off some men of arms with a fox for a sigil. Lannister horns. A cloud of dust in the distance and he saw the reason. A mounted charge to sweep them away. "FALL BACK! TO THE WOODS!"

Men were barking orders as discipline held, and they withdrew to the safety of the trees. Come on, you irksome old bastard. Fall for the trap. Follow us!"

Daven hoped and prayed to the Warrior, but the mounted knights made no such venture.

Tarly didn't bite.

He cursed.

They had spent days on the pits and caltrops. We could have slaughtered more of them.

Instead, Daven had to give the order to withdrawal from the field and depart ahead of Tarly's column to the north.

"It raised the men's spirits." Lucion said as they finished setting up camp. "We slew three for every man we lost." Fifteen thousand men is all he had to oppose the hordes of the Reach. Fifteen thousand greenboys and sellswords. It was an impossible task facing a man like Tarly, who was relentless. The Stranger has nothing on him.

Daven snorted. "Yeah, but unlike Tarly, I need every man I lose." Ever since the disaster at the Mander. Almost an entire host had been lost to Lord Tarly's advance. They had killed Ser Lyle in battle. Daven was lucky to incorporate the few survivors into his force. He swore. "If only we faced that fucking fat rose."

His cousin nodded.

Thankfully, they had stripped the Reach North of the Mander bare forcing them to rely on supply lines from Highgarden. Made worse by the Ironborn plague facing them. Long supply lines benefited them. But Lord Tarly had sent bands of men just as they did ahead of the primary host, pillaging the countryside. It made him worried the Rock could soon be under threat from Iron Born raiders or even Tarly's men. It's a miracle they raided the Reach instead. Lord Tywins' reputation was likely the reason that made them choose the Reach.

Crakehall must hold to deny them further advance.

"Cousin? You look white as a sheet." Lucion said. "And you're shaking?"

"I'm fine. Just tired." Yes, he was tired. Battle had tired him.

"Your covered in blood-"

"Blood of other men." I would know if they struck me. No one ever came close.

Lucion pressed on delicately. "You should still be seen by a maester-"

"Bah!" Daven waved him off. "Let them see other men who truly need it." He started towards his tent and made it a few steps before his legs turned soft and flimsy. Pain radiated from his side and he collapsed onto the hard ground. Daven hit the ground hard, the air being driven from his lungs as his vision darkened. His head struck some ancient tree root. The last thing he saw was his squire Jason at his side. "Jason." He mumbled. He had placed him in the reserve to spare the boy a grizzly battle. A soft boy like that would have been slaughtered. Myrielle loved him. It made him think of Myrielle and Cerenna. Promises to his sisters. A souvenir. I promised Cerenna one. I haven't found her one yet.

Jason said words to him, but Daven didn't understand them and closed his eyes.

Stannis

"A waste of parchment."

Davos gazed at him awkwardly as they leaned over the bow of the ship. The stars were out littering the heavens. Poets loved singing of them, but for a sailor they had practical uses. When he had been named Master of Ships, he learned everything a lord needed to know of sailing. It was his duty to learn. The gentle sound of the waves drowned them out. No one was out with them. They were asleep or fulfilling their duties.

"What?" He asked. "You think me uncaring? That I wish ill on my brother." When the Tyrells had besieged them. Starved them for over a year until they were forced to chew on the leather of shoes. Renly had not starved. He had given him portions of his meagre rations. I did my duty to him while I feasted on rats. The rats had tasted like steaks compared to the shoes."I mourn the boy he was. Not the man he became." A selfish, vain fool who smiled and sought the company of ambitious lords. Especially the dainty Knight of Flowers. Unlike Renly, he had always done his duty to his brothers. Even if every bend and turn, they slighted him. Robert robbed him of their ancestral home in Storms End. He held it for him against all odds. He did not break. Did Robert thank him for it? No, he only blamed me for failing to capture the dragonspawn. Robert didn't name him his own brother Hand of the King or Regent while on his damn fool's crusade in the east. Me his own flesh and blood. Renly smiled and japed and mocked him behind his back. One jape about his daughter made his blood boil. Then he frolicked with the Tyrells. The same men who starved us. Renly befriended. Renly married into their family and gave Lady Margaery the title of our mother.

If the gods are real, they mock me.

But he endured it all. For the Laws of the Realm were clear and when Stark bade him to head to Seaguard he obeyed, for Robert still lived and had made the man his regent.

"Aye." Davos admitted. "It was unwise what he did, but he is your blood."

Stannis chewed on the word unwise and grinded his teeth. "He played hero when he owed his duty to Robert and his regent." He scoffed, annoyed by the conversation. "It doesn't matter what's done is done. Renly chose and shall suffer for it." When King Aerys had demanded he join his banners with the Crown. He had chosen his blood over his duty to the Crown. A thick silence held between them save for the roaring waves and he left his Onion Knight to his duty. He retired to his cabin. Sparse quarters. A lord needed little in the way of comforts and he ate his dinner alone. A late meal of cold steak, and mashed potatoes with a single goblet of wine to wash it down. Stannis thought of Robert. Seduced by that witch from the east. She spoke nonsense of his brother being some prophetic hero. Though when he drew the flaming sword with dancing flames, he wondered if it mayhaps could be true. It made sense that some god would have chosen Robert. Six foot five and a warrior on the battlefield. However, he doubted Robert believed in her. Only the breasts on her chest interest him and what lies between her legs. Robert was never a godly sort of man.

He ate another bite of steak and swallowed.

If Robert would have believed me, I would have told him my suspicions. He ground his teeth in frustration. But Robert didn't love him, so he had gone to Jon Arryn. The Old Falcon had worked with him for years running Roberts' realm, and they had a cordial relationship. He did not dismiss his words as treason. Still, Jon Arryn had kept his role in the investigation limited. "I'll need to convince Robert without a sliver of doubt." Jon Arryn said. "You stand to gain the most from the children being bastards."

"Aye." Stannis replied. "Robert shall only listen to you."

Stannis didn't know the proof Jon Arryn had uncovered. It had died with the man. He didn't know who the father could be? How could only the mother's features show up? All he had was what his eyes told him. The bastards he had visited with his brothers' dark hair and blue eyes and the pure Lannister children the queen had sired. And Jon Arryn himself seemed confident in the evidence he had gathered.

"I'll be telling Robert tonight." Jon Arryn said. "I'll need to tell him tactfully. It shall likely lead to a war between House Lannister." He gave a weary sigh. Sweat dripping down his forehead. His limbs were a little shaky. "I've written to my boy Jasper. Telling him to raise the banners." He smiled. "You know he won a tourney in Runestone last moon? If only I could have been there." The old mans mind wandered. "I always keep track of his wins. His first tourney was at Gulltown came in second. Tough break against Ser Lyn Corbray's lance. A fine showing, though."

"We should kill the children, then. They are threats to Robert's reign. Certainly the boys, at least."

Jon Arryn blinked, appalled by the notion. "We are not Lannisters. We shall not kill babes. They are blameless for the crime of the mother."

"The Wall and Sisters of the Faith?"

"Yes." Jon Arryn coughed, the life draining from his face. "It's the only path for an honorable realm. Robert's wrath will be great, but I can dull it." He coughed more violently.

The thoughts of an honorable realm died that night. Jon Arryn fell ill before he could tell Robert the truth. Tis was no illness, but poison. Stannis had tried to convince Robert to name him Hand of the King, but he failed. Without the authority of the Office in a city crawling with Lannisters, he fled back to Dragonstone. The banners of the Vale were never raised, nor did Robert Arryn arrive on Dragonstone per his arrangement with Lord Arryn. Jon Arryn's son had betrayed him in death. Why? Stannis had little clue. Though word trickled to him of the betrothal of a princess and the fostering of the so-called crown prince in the Vale and he filled in the gaps.

He wishes to usurp the crown with an Arryn raised prince.

The Lannisters had been driven from the city by Lord Stark. A man who also seemed to benefit from this arrangement. His daughter as future queen. Maybe he was a part of the conspiracy? Or mayhaps was unaware? But any word he brought him would see him thrown in the cells for treason. What evidence did he hold? Save a few bastards. As Roberts regent, Lord Stark would be honor bound to name his actions as treason for trying to overturn the line of succession. He didn't have a strong relationship with the man, unlike Lord Arryn. Men didn't love him like they loved Renly or Robert, and if it came between believing him or his nephew Jasper Arryn, Lord Stark would choose him. Blood always came first. Few men would believe the word from his own lip. Thankfully, power still came from Robert's authority or he would have no choice, but to raise his banners in revolt.

If I die, the truth dies with me.

So he held his tongue, but when he was called to do his duty, he obeyed. Roberts realm was under threat. They could not tolerate private wars amongst his banners. The fleet was readied and set sail while Renly played war and found himself captured.

He spoke true with Davos. I mourn him. He should have turned out better. And if he died, he would weep once and only once for him.

Until then, he would focus on the task at hand and seeing the Iron Fleet to the bottom of the seas.

The Old Lion

"You look tired." The ghost of his wife told him as the candlelight flickered. A sly smile graced her face.

He didn't bother her with a reply. She wasn't real. A figment of his overworked mind, and he didn't put down his quill to indulge it. Lannisters didn't speak with ghosts. Sometime passed before he finally lifted his head up. Joanna sat, legs crossed, in front of his desk, as beautiful as the day they had wed dressed in the crimson red of their house. Her eyes burned with dancing wildfire.

"Are you going to acknowledge me, husband?"

Tywin raised a slender brow.

Joanna laughed. "Your thinking of our legacy, aren't you?"

"I think of little else."

It was supposed to be a glorious legacy, and it started out with great promise. His brilliant golden bride by his side. They drowned and slaughtered their enemies together as the Lannister's name reached new heights. He became the Hand of the King. The youngest in the history of the seven kingdoms. She became a Lady-in waiting for Queen Rhaella and earned her love and favor. A friendship of a vain king made their rise assured. Two beautiful golden heirs were born to him. An heir to the Rock and a future queen. Perfect children fit to be Lannisters. Then his legacy turned to ash. Joanna died birthing the little stunted whelp and his two golden children turned into great disappointments. One a glorified bodyguard that died defending an ill-born prince and the other an incompetent queen unable to grasp any lesson he tried to teach her.

Her hands fell on top of his own. "You wish my permission."

"Do I have it?"

Joanna kissed him on the cheek, as sweet as strawberries. It felt real. "Do you remember what I told you before you marched off to end the revolt of Lord Reyne?"

Tywin did.

"Rip their family out root and stem until nothing remains but castles of bones. Monuments of your strength. Then return to me and place your cloak around my shoulders. Make me your wife. Let us build a legacy together. A legacy greater than even Lann the Clever."

"Then you died." He brushed her hands from him and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, she was gone. She had been gone for years. Though she had taken a piece of him with her.

I buried it with her corpse.

Tywin rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his choice. "Send for Lord Willem." He told the guardsman outside of his tent. Tywins' eyes flickered to the letter from Kings Landing that made this choice easy. Legacy is all we are known for. The family name lives on. He hid it away and opened his locked drawer, removing his will from it. My final will. The boy arrived quickly to his pavilion, offering a polite bow. Willem didn't wait for a command and took his seat. His decorum reminded him of Kevan as he sat straight as an arrow in his seat. Hands resting neatly over his lap, waiting for him to start a lesson.

"Read." Tywin said, tapping the parchment.

It didn't take him long

"And?" Tywin asked him.

Willem's eyes widened lightly. "Lord Tyrion shall become Lord of the Rock then."

"Tyrion is a creature of lust and depravity. I would sooner die than let that imp turn the Rock into his whorehouse."

"But this is a statement of abdication, and he is your lawful heir."

Tywin nodded once. "It is, and no, he isn't." Tyrion had never been his heir. It had always been Jaime until his boy died. If Kevan had lived, he would have made it him. His eyes fell on his son. A worthy successor to his legacy. Every lesson he had taught him on this campaign confirmed this to him. The boy was stalwart and firm, with a fair mind. He isn't the legacy I wanted, but he's all I have left. He wasn't of Joannas' line, but it was the best he could do.

The boy gazed pensively. "My duty is to you as my fathers was. A duty to House Lannister." He sighed. "But why abdicate? Our position is not so terrible. Many highborn hostages have been secured. Including the king's own brother. Surely you could negotiate with the Crown."

"Do you know Lord Stark?" Tywin asked.

When he shook his head, Tywin continued. "I know the man." He chuckled. ". Did you know he wanted me arrested for securing King Roberts claim to the Iron Throne? Do you think such a man is going to take kindly to my actions in the Reach? Do you think a man of honor is going to forgive me?" Willem shook his head. "Of course not! I've known that since the moment I set out from the Rock, my sentence was the Wall or the noose."

"You did it for the Lannister name."

"YES!" Tywin praised. "The Lannister name had to be upheld." And he had upheld their reputation by savaging the Reach. He burned holdfasts to the ground. Slaughtered her smallfolk by unleashing mad dogs upon them who raped and pillaged. He butchered defiant lords and took Lord Renly captive in a coup d'état. Singers will sing of that deed for a thousand years. The crippling of the Prancing Stag! For another generation, weak men will whisper of them in fear. Fear of House Lannister would live on in hearts and minds across the Seven Kingdoms. Our standing will not slip back to the days of my father. Lords would understand the price of pulling a lion's tail still. They'll just have to look at Lord Renly.

"Lord Stark has left Kings Landing with a host of Valeman and River Lords." Tywin said. "Another host has departed Riverrun. In the south, our efforts have collapsed on the Mander. Ser Lyle Crakehall defeat has left the Westerlands vulnerable. Lord Tarly shall soon be at our outer defenses if he isn't already. Daven Lannister won't be able to repel him. We can't hold out against the entire realm." On the map it painted a picture of defeat. One by one, the castles guarding the entrance into the Westerlands would fall. Though the picture was painfully deceptive if you removed a piece from the board.

It dawned on his heir. "You've always known you would have to abdicate and join the Nights Watch, haven't you?" Tywin almost smiled at his intuition. Almost.

"Naturally," He replied. "If we held the Crown, it could have been different. We could have used the authority of the Iron Throne to inspire discord among the vassals of our enemies." They would have turned on them in the middle of battle. Or kill them during a feast. Mayhaps even a wedding. But his fool of a daughter had lost controlled of the Crown to Stark. No offer of his would be treated seriously without the authority of the Iron Throne to back it. Once he considered merely exile to the Free Cities, but Stark would punish House Lannister more harshly for it. Unthinkable. To fall on his sword was too cowardly for him to even consider. No one shall call me a cowardly lion.

He chuckled. "If we fought like fools to the bitter end and it would be the bitter end with a man like Eddard Stark." Tywin said firmly, less there was any doubt in his mind. "Our treasuries would have been drained. Our fields stripped by fields of locusts that would scour our lands. It would have damaged the Westerlands for a generation, and what would we have to show for it?"

"Nothing." Willem whispered.

"Precisely." Tywin poured himself a single cup of wine. "Instead, you shall sue for peace. The son of a decent man murdered with poison. Lord Stark, being a man of honor, would treat you far more gently than he would have treated me." The Westerlands would emerge from the war in a sound position. Her fields practically untouched, unlike the fields of the Reach with strong reserves of gold. One day, his grandson would still sit on the Iron Throne, and his kin in the Westerlands would still benefit from the titles and privileges only a king could provide. I'll just be freezing on the wall when it comes to pass. "It's why the moment we arrive at the Rock. I shall board my ship for the Wall with a loyal retinue of men." They had only recently arrived at Silver Hill the night before. He would have a horde of singers and heralds spread the news across the Rock and Lannisport that he was leaving having avenged his brother and defended the honor of his house. That the love he bore the Westerlands demanded he abdicate before they lay her fields to waste by the forces of the Crown. A story could be spun years later that they had never been defeated at all.

Fools would believe it, and the world was filled with fools.

Willem rose and poured himself a drink of water. "With all due respect, my lord, are you certain the lords of the West will accept me? You have a living son, and your daughter, the queen, and her children would all come before me in the line of succession."

"My lords shall do as I say." Tywin replied, unconcerned. Defiance had long since slipped the minds of his banners. One quick tune of the Rains of Castamere always made them obedient.

All I have to say is jump and they'll ask me how high!

"Tonight I shall make the announcement before all the lords naming you my heir."

Willem nodded dutifully.

"My sister Genna shall be named your regent until you come to your majority." He had already summoned her to the Rock. She was making the preparations for him. Fortifying the loyalties of the household.

"A wise lord listens to his councillors until he comes of age." Willem said. "And I think I shall listen to prudent advice even after." It sounded like something Kevan would have said. Suddenly, he almost felt a little sentimental. You would have been proud, Kevan.

Tywin smiled.

"Who would you recommend I wed my lord?" He asked bluntly. "I'd like your wisdom while I have your ear, my lord. I think Lady Alysanne Lefford would be the best?"

Tywin found little disagreement with the choice. Daughter of one of his wealthiest banners. Strategically located. She would make a fine Lady of the Rock. If I had never made a vow to Joanna. Mayhaps I would have married her? He offered some counter offers in one of the lesser Lannister branches, or the daughters of Lord Marbrand and Lord Lynden. Willem considered each choice, but wisely decided that Lady Lefford offered the most and decided on that course of action.

"You shall make a fine Lord of the Rock." Tywin said. "No. You'll be beyond fine, you're a Lannister." And nothing was above a Lannister.

Tywin walked with him past the flaps. "Now have I ever told you the composer for the Rains of Castamere?" He shook his head. "No? Well, it was a singer by the name of Loren. A sad little man. I've kept him in my employ all these years. Seek him out. Make him write a pleasant song about this campaign and when he's done send it to me on the Wall." Tywin loved to whistle the Rains when he went to bed, and it would be nice to have a new song.

Authors note: Stannis the Mannis was a lot of fun to write! The one true king! Okay, I'll just clarify that no Jasper doesn't know about Jon Arryns letter. Pretty much Baelish had already inflitrated Jon Arryns household and was pulling the strings behind everything with some help from Lysa. But according to Stannis, yes he thinks Jasper knew and betrayed his father. And yes, Tywin is certainly planning to join the NW rather than fight a losing war and seeing the destruction of House Lannister.

Next up, we shall see Robb at Riverrun interacting with crazy Lysa Tully, Jasper gets lessons from the The Ned as they march to the the borders of the Westerlands, Olennas reaction in Highgarden and the Tyrell family strife, and the wounded Daven Lannister leads the forces of Crakehall in a siege. As always I enjoy reading the reviews.

WhyNotBactn: Well, at least you'll enjoy it when I make him suffer! I hope your enjoying other parts though. Hate to think your miserable reading this story. Thirty chapters in!

ATP: Yep, poor Brienne. Shall she sucuedd who knows? Lannisters are still getting blamed cause they did some agressive stuff and Ned is going to finally punish for everything they've done.

Freedmoon: I love to read your ramblings, even you tired, exhausted ramblings of a sleep deprived madman!

I do think you get this mixed side of Jasper. He's still bitter and mistrusting, but for political reasons he's often able to bite the bullet, but yeah he's like a kid who finally got what he always wanted even if the circumstances are changed and it's a bit bitter for him. I do think it's the start of Jasper becoming more Jon Arryn like as he learns from pretty much the ultimate source of Arryn honor with Jon A dead.

Damn don't give me any ideas about Renly! That sounds very dark! I love it! And yeah I broke Renly hard. Some guys are going to suffer more than they did in cannon. Others are going to get better fates, but it isn't going to be. "Team Stark, and Jasper Arryn skate through life on a magical rainbow!" Everyone will suffer!

Yeah, Cersei really lucked out, but she also hasn't. She's been stripped down as queen. Is a known kinslayer and murderss and has been sent to Oldtown to become a Septa. In some ways I'm sure it's just as bad cause eventually she's going to beleive that Joffrey and Jaime are dead and she'll really snap.

It would be hilarious for Ned "I just want to go home." Stark to have a successful tenure as regent/hand of the king. I'm just happy I can tell a story where Ned doesn't end up in the cells like in cannon. We get to see Ned Stark shine here and show why Tywin feared him. Pretty much, if you give Ned some loyal guys around him. He's going to win!

Well, tell me what you forgot to write in this review in your next one! Always enjoy reading and replying to them! And I hope you got a restful night of sleep afterwards!