His carefully crafted plans threatened to fall apart. If merely one more inconvenience came his way, years of plotting and scheming would turn out for naught.
Tyrion gone, the Mountain dead, his daughter on the edge of a hysterical breakdown, his son continuing to refuse his commands, and Oberyn Martell set to strike. The only bright spot was Tommen, who proved to be far more susceptible to his influence than his brother.
Yet he had managed far worse situations.
After his first attempt to talk to Prince Oberyn, he had not returned to their manse himself, instead instructing Varys to find out the happenings inside. Not much came of it.
Not much came of the investigation into the Mountain's death as well. The peasants were extraordinarily stubborn according to Ser Addam, revealing so little about the attack he wondered if they even witnessed it at all.
As a whole, it seemed like a drunken rape attempt gone wrong. A victim willing to fight back, bystanders entirely disinterested in assisting Lannister soldiers, and the involvement of a red viper. He knew there was more to it, yet could not bring himself to devote precious time to the question.
Then one day, two weeks after the attack, Lord Varys came into his solar with a far more enticing subject.
The man had sat beside him at the council meeting earlier in the day, yet as he laid down something on the table between them, Tywin understood why this had had to wait.
"One of my little birds managed to make its way into Prince Oberyn's manse, and found this in his daughter's chamber."
The object in question was a golden necklace, dirty and rundown after years of use, yet the lion on its pendant was still clear for all to see.
Unwillingly, a conversation he had held with Ser Addam came to his mind.
"And Prince Oberyn's daughter was injured in the process."
"Which daughter?"
"The blonde one."
Prince Oberyn had flaunted the girl before him. Tywin had assumed it was because he wanted to get a rise out of him, yet now this interaction started gaining a different meaning.
Blonde hair, pale skin, a lion around her neck. How she had stared at his daughter and then left without another word. Certainly, she did not have green eyes, but one could scarcely view this as counterevidence.
"I suppose we finally know where the princess has been all these years."
His fist closed around the necklace.
A week later, news came of the girl's awakening. Less than a minute had passed before he was on his way.
The gate of the manse had been repaired, and four soldiers in orange and white, with spears and shields on the ready, stood guard before it. They did not let themselves be threatened by the small body of troops he had brought with him, and if that had not directly interfered with his plans he would have almost admired it.
"I demand to speak to Prince Oberyn!" he called out to the soldiers.
"Say what you must," one of the men spoke. "We will relay the message, but it is up to our prince to decide when and if to answer."
"I will speak to him face to face, and you will let me inside to do so. Would you refuse to obey the Hand of the King?"
"I bow to none but House Martell. We have clear instructions to bar entrance to everyone not previously invited, and that includes you, m'lord."
The soldiers beside Tywin laid their hands on their swords, and while he would have enjoyed nothing more than to cut down these quarrelsome Dornishman and force his way into the yellow-painted house, he knew to tread with care around these people. Lest they accuse him of another crime.
"Prince Oberyn stands accused of treason to the crown. I suggest you fetch him, lest you endure the same fate."
The men shared glances amongst each other, then the leader nodded and another quickly disappeared into the manse.
His horse grew restless beneath him, the soldiers around him even more so. Spectators stood at a distance, yet their murmurs and babbles still reached him, their gawking somehow more annoying than flies buzzing around one's head in the summer heat.
After he had already begun considering the success rate of attempting to break down the gate, it finally opened, and the soldier stepped outside, closely followed by Prince Oberyn.
The man sauntered towards him as Tywin dismounted and stepped forward, meeting the Dornishman half-way.
"Lord Tywin." He made no attempt to hide the hatred in his voice. "I thought I had made myself clear concerning your presence in my home."
"One could say you are a guest in my home, and that I could easily take this house away from you and return it to the crown for your treason."
"You throw this word around so much, my lord, I am not sure you know what it means." It was strange, seeing Oberyn completely serious for once, not even the hint of a grin on his face. "Is this treason you speak of in regard to me protecting my daughters from a monster? To dare bring my sister's murderer to justice?"
"A Council of the Faith has decided on the validity of your actions, Prince Oberyn. I am not here to refute their conclusion."
"Then why do you disturb my family's peace?"
Tywin contemplated on the correct course of action for a moment, before he said, "Alarming reports have reached me, claiming you are holding a princess of the realm captive. Which, of course, would be treason."
"I did not know Princess Myrcella was missing."
"You know I am not referring to her."
"Then who, Lord Tywin?"
"I think we both know who."
"I am afraid I don't. The only people in my manse are those born and raised in Dorne, my servants and family alike. No one is held captive in a non-existent cellar, no one prohibited from leaving. Whatever it is you have heard, it could not be farther from the truth."
"Then I am sure you would allow me to take a look for myself."
"I will allow no such thing. My daughters are still recovering from the attack by your men, I will not risk unsettling them by permitting you and your soldiers to poke around their home."
"You have a choice here, Prince Oberyn." Tywin gave a short wave, and two of his men stepped forward. "Either you open the gates for me, allow have a short look around, let me talk to your daughter, or you can accompany me to the Red Keep, where I will have you imprisoned and tried for treason. What will it be?"
"Why the sudden need to speak to my daughter? Do you assume she will be more perceptible to your questioning, easier to bend to your will?"
"Our introduction at my grandson's wedding was quite short, and left me with some open questions. Harmless ones, I assure you. She might be able to give me insight into what happened that fateful night, as well."
"Are these not things I could answer you? She needs her rest after having almost been raped and slaughtered by your men."
"It will not take long, I assure you-"
"You do not even feel bad about what happened." Oberyn slightly tilted his head. "How strange. I wonder what evil a man must have committed to disregard such blatant treason on the laws of the gods."
Laws of the gods, ha!
"These men acted on their own, with no command from anyone, least of all me," Tywin said. "Now, step aside. I swear to be quick and not cause any… trouble. I only wish to talk."
The Dornishman's eyes moved across him, then the soldiers opposite him. Four and ten, all equipped with swords, spears, knives, and shields, half of them ahorse. Any attempt to attack, or even to deny him, would result in a quick defeat.
"I know you are smarter than this," Tywin said with a lowered voice. "Or are you this willing to let your daughters lose their father?"
He almost assumed Oberyn would refuse - he hoped he would, wishing for an opportunity to rid himself of this plague. Yet the Dornishman was indeed smart enough to understand the dire of his situation, and so commanded to open the gate. Only for Tywin and two soldiers, but it was enough.
They were led through the plant-infested courtyard and up a flight of stairs, along a walkway, until they stopped in front of a door. He gave a sign for the soldiers to wait, and followed Oberyn into the room.
His gaze darted around the chambers for a moment, attempting to spot any traps, but it quickly settled onto the bed in the centre. And the girl with golden hair lying upon it.
"She is asleep," the Dornishman said with a lowered voice. "I suggest you return later. Waking her now would only confuse her, you will not get what you seek out of her."
"There is no need. I will simply wait here."
"It could take hours."
Prince Oberyn had placed himself between the bed and Tywin, but he had seen enough.
"I have time."
"What is it that you want from my daughter? What importance could she possibly hold to you?"
Tywin had considered answering him, in that moment, either with the truth or another deflection, a way to get the man out of the room and leave him alone with her. But before he ever had the chance to make a decision, something else happened.
"Father?" The voice was quiet and broken.
Prince Oberyn had rushed to the girl's side quicker than even Tywin had fully comprehended what happened, and was now brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "It's alright, Elle. I'm here."
Elle. How had he not realised before?
The girl groaned and tried to sit up, upon which the Dornishman gently pressed against her shoulder. "Careful. You only just woke up."
Then her eyes fell on him, and fear spread on her face. Her hand grabbed Prince Oberyn's arm and she tried to hide behind his body. The man followed her gaze, eyes full of hatred.
"I would suggest you leave. She is nowhere near ready to answer whatever you so desperately need."
"If she is awake, can talk, and see my face, then I would say she is quite ready for me. Alone, I might add."
"Alone? What makes you think I would leave her alone with something like-"
"Father," the girl said quietly. "It's alright."
Prince Oberyn hissed a quiet threat as he passed him, then the door fell close and silence settled on the room.
The girl carefully moved into a sitting position, every move eliciting a different muffled sound from her mouth, and by the time she leaned her head against the headboard sweat pearled on her forehead.
"What-" She took in a pained breath. "What may I help you with?"
Her voice was deep, yet he didn't know if it was natural or because of her three week's sleep, and steeped heavily in that vexing Dornish accent. A red scar sat above her brow, three more laid on the left side of her face, and every bit of exposed skin showed bruises in various colours. He would need to make her presentable before bringing her to the Red Keep.
"You have caused quite the commotion after only a moon in the city."
"Because I almost got killed?" She pressed a hand into the side of her chest and pulled a grimace.
"Because your actions got one of my bannermen killed. That is certainly a feat for someone pretending to be Prince Oberyn's bastard."
She blinked. "Pretending?"
"I think it is clear for all to see you do not belong to these people."
It took a while until she answered, and he wondered whether she tried to find an unnecessary defence or if her mind was still half-asleep.
"These people?" she repeated.
Perhaps the girl was simply slow on the uptake in general. The Dornish must have done all kinds of inhumane things to her over the years.
He took the few steps to her bedside and dropped the necklace in her lap. She stared at it, then slowly reached out with her left hand and picked it up. Seconds passed, then a minute.
"What-" She exhaled. "What is this?"
"This was found in this very room only a week ago." He cocked his head. "You know what this means, don't you?"
"I am afraid I don't."
"There is no need to lie, Cerelle."
She blinked and furrowed her brows. Slowly, her confused face grated on his nerves.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are safe now. I have soldiers outside this room and this manse, ready to strike at my command and get you out of here if these people will not let you go freely."
"I don't know what you think is going on, my lord, but I can assure you I am not being held against my will. Nor do I understand why you are calling me Cerelle."
"Did they beat your past out of you, then? Force you to forget where you came from in a desperate attempt to take their revenge?"
"No! No one beat me, and I remember my past quite well."
"But you are being held captive by the Dornish, otherwise you would have returned home long ago."
"I did not return home because I did not want to!"
He almost smiled. Cerelle averted her gaze.
"Here is what I think happened." He started slowly walking around the bed. "I knew about the happenings in King's Landing, either through my men or through my daughter's constant and irritating letters. Therefore I knew about the troubles you were causing. I tried making arrangements to reign you in, like a betrothal to Elyana Vypren's son, yet you disappeared before any of them could come to fruition." She stopped playing with the necklace for a moment. "I never believed you were kidnapped. I think you ran away and were caught by the Dornish, who forced you into bastardy. Now they were planning on flaunting you before me, to take their revenge on the perceived slight on their family."
"They did not force me to do anything," she said quietly. Upon noticing his silence, she continued. "I came to Dorne because I willed it. Oberyn became my father because I willed it. I live as a bastard because I willed it. And I suggest you tread more carefully when talking about my family."
He scoffed. "These people are not your family."
"At least they recognised me when I returned."
Her eyes, despite not carrying her family's colour, certainly carried their sharpness.
"I suppose I am able to arrest Prince Oberyn even without your cooperation."
"What? No! Stop!"
She stumbled after him, falling out of the bed and tipping over a glass jug, both of them crashing onto the ground. Within an instant, the door was pushed open and Oberyn knelt next to Cerelle.
"Are you alright?" He inspected her body for injuries. "You are supposed to stay in bed."
"I couldn't- He wants to arrest you, I have to do something."
Viper eyes settled on Tywin. "For what crime?"
"Hiding a princess of the realm is considered treason by some."
"Not by me!" His granddaughter was rather pathetic cowering on the floor, tears streaming down her face, burrowing her hands in Prince Oberyn's tunica. "Please, he tried to bring me home, but I didn't let him. No one else knew."
Cerelle seemed to truly love the Dornishman. This was an annoyance, for it would not allow him to rid himself of this threat, too big was the danger of losing the valuable piece a princess presented. Yet perhaps it could also be an opportunity.
"I would be willing to ignore this blatant betrayal on the crown," Tywin said slowly, "and to protect these people you care about from powerful players I know would rather see them dead. If you return to your place in court. No acting out, no running away. You will listen to my commands and behave as a princess should."
It wasn't ideal - Prince Oberyn was after his blood, and neither of them would like to cooperate with the other. But perhaps an opportunity would arise to get rid of the man. And until then he had his granddaughter under his grasp.
"Elle-" Prince Oberyn said, yet was quickly interrupted.
"I agree. No harm will come to a Dornishman as long as I play my part."
Tywin almost smiled. "Perfect." Then he started walking toward the door. "Now get dressed, we need to visit our family."
"Are you mad?" Prince Oberyn said. "She can hardly breathe without pain, and you want to drag her to the Red Keep?"
Tywin raised a brow. "Already resisting my commands?"
Prince Oberyn stared at him with hatred, Cerelle with fear.
"Tomorrow," she said.
Tywin considered her words, then nodded. "Tomorrow."