Chapter Text
After a long war and the death of a monarch, a lavish wedding was just the thing to distract the populace at large. The crown had to at least appear in control, and nothing said control like a royal wedding. To the outside world, it showed that King's Landing was still strong and ready to move on from the catastrophe of the past few years.
And technically speaking, they were. The Lannisters, with the help of the Tyrells and the Starks, had managed to quell every stupid rebellion in the country. Traitors had been dealt with and they now had far better king on the throne.
Tywin Lannister never relaxed, but he had fewer things to worry about that day, at least. The Tyrell alliance with the crown gave the crown a sound financial future. It meant paying off the Iron Bank, in time. It meant peace during the rapidly approaching winter.
The wedding itself was excessive. That had been Olenna Tyrell's doing. She insisted that for the wedding to be a proper distraction, it had to be lavish. The kind of event for the common folk to sing about. The Queen of Thorns was paying her share, so Tywin did not press the issue. But he personally did not see the point of such extravagance.
In the garden, where the guests congregated after the ceremony, tables stretched far back past the hedges and food piled high on every surface. The feasting had gone on since this morning, and it was a wonder anyone could still eat.
Those in attendance were lords and ladies from every one of the seven kingdoms. There were a few notable exceptions. None of the north had attended. After the incident a month ago, they had all had enough of the capital. Tywin didn't take it as an insult. The north had more preparations to make for winter than anyone, and the war had left their country in tatters.
Dorne had not attended either, which Tywin knew was meant as an insult. While Tyrion had smoothed things over slightly when he shipped Myrcella off to the southern country, the Dornish had no love of him since the sack of King's Landing.
They weren't preparing for war, at least. Tywin would deal with Prince Dornan at a later date.
Tywin stayed close to the main table for much the feast, mainly to assist Tommen. The boy did not know half of the people who came to wish him well. He was too young and this was all overwhelming to him. His new wife, Margaery, handled the proceedings like she was born to it. Not one hair or smile out of place. She would be the kind of Queen beloved by the people and that might help Tommen to become a beloved king.
"I told you a grand wedding was the way to go," Olenna said from his right.
"Told me? I never said you were right," Tywin said.
"No, you didn't. But I am. Everyone is having a delightful time," Olenna said. "It's as if the war and death of these past few years has been utterly erased."
"Covered up, at the very least," Tywin said. "It's still excessive."
"Some would call it fun," Olenna said. "Have you tried it? Fun? You would think your brush with death would leave you more open to enjoying something."
Tywin gave her a look. "We don't all have time for frivolities."
"Well, congratulations. This is a wedding. A whole day set aside for frivolities."
"Some would call a wedding an important political event."
"Gods, you are such a bore." Olenna sighed, looking out amongst the crowd. "Speaking of weddings with a political purpose: when do you plan on marrying off your ward?"
Tywin followed her gaze and found her watching Arya. She was circling the edge of the gardens, looking like she would rather sneak off through the hedges. She was also the subject of some attention today, simply because she was a Stark. He couldn't imagine she was enjoying it in the least.
"I don't suppose it's your concern, is it?" he replied.
"Tommen was a suitable match before he became king. But Arya wouldn't want to be queen, would she? And you need our alliance more than you need the Starks." Olenna shrugged. "So what to do with her now?"
"You seem like you're about to get to the point," Tywin said.
"You should consider engaging her to Loras," Olenna said. "A second son for a second daughter. It seems a worthy match. He is young and one of the most eligible men in the seven kingdoms."
"And interested in eligible men, if rumors are correct," Tywin said.
"They are," Olenna said. "But he will do his duty, make no mistake. The girl isn't particularly interested in marriage in the first place. I don't think she would mind a husband who is not interested in her."
"Perhaps not," Tywin said. "But handing control of the Starks over to you is a poor political move."
"Do you not trust us, Lord Tywin?"
"I don't trust anyone. I prefer to keep her close. The war is too fresh to do anything else."
Olenna sighed. "As you say. Perhaps in time, when the war is less fresh and the north's loyalty more certain, you'll change your mind."
"I don't make a habit of changing my mind."
"That's true," a voice said from behind him. "I once said something that upset him and he did not speak to me for nearly a year."
Tywin turned to see his sister standing behind him, a wry smile on her face. It had been some years since he had seen Genna. Since before the war started. Longer than that even. They had only grown more distant with every passing year, as they both changed and aged. But beyond that distance, she was the same woman he remembered.
"Don't look so surprised, Tywin. It's my great nephew's wedding. I wouldn't miss it," Genna said.
"You weren't here this morning. I thought you might have," Tywin said.
"We had some dreadful delays on the road. Trouble with the carriage and the Brotherhood. Not to worry. All dealt with," Genna said. "I do apologize for the late arrival. I hope the king won't be offended."
"I'll leave that to him to decide," Tywin said.
Genna glanced at Olenna. "See how cold he is to me, Lady Tyrell, even after all of these years?" She clasped both of Tywin's hands in her own. "Come brother. At least pretend to be glad to see me."
Tywin's mouth barely twitched. In truth, he was glad to see her. Genna was family. Even when they fought, he couldn't dismiss their shared blood. She was his only sister. "You haven't changed."
"You're lying. I've gotten fatter and you know it," Genna looked back to Olenna. "I hope you don't mind if I steal my brother for a moment."
"Be my guest, Lady Genna." Olenna inclined her head and glided back to her seat.
"Come Tywin," Genna looped her arm around his. "Let's enjoy this wedding you paid for."
One thing Genna always excelled at was talking. She could talk for many hours if no one interjected. Most people dismissed it as womanly gossip. But rarely did Genna talk about unimportant matters. She talked about people, yes, because she knew them. She had a way of seeing right into a man's soul, then laying his every flaw out for the world to see. Sometimes, this was quite useful to Tywin, especially when he needed to exploit a flaw.
"All and all, most of the lords and ladies here seem quite relieved to be away from war," Genna said. "But it's a bit of a different story in the Riverlands."
"Really?" Tywin asked.
"You may recall setting a fair amount of it on fire," Genna said.
"I recall everything I did," Tywin said. "It was war."
"Yes, war. And it leaves unhappy people. But they aren't truly your concern." She looked up at him. "You should be worried about the Frey's though. My father in law and his many, many sons are displeased. They hoped to own the Riverlands after the war, but you did not give it to them."
"There wasn't a need anymore," Tywin said. "Making peace with the north also made peace with the Tullys. If I gave the Riverlands to the Freys then the countryside would have been in an uproar. And the Riverlands banner men would have realized the Frey's treachery."
"Their planned treachery anyway," Genna said. "I don't disagree with you. None the less, be careful. Walder Frey is a vengeful man."
"The Freys are too weak to rebel against the crown," Tywin said. "Especially with the Tyrells on our side."
"I'm not sure," Genna said. "He has enough sons to make his own army." She sighed. "He truly is the worst sort of person. He does fear you. You made him turn white when you were just a child. But don't underestimate him."
Tywin nodded once. "I won't."
"If you ever need to smooth things over with him, you could give him your ward I've heard so much about," Genna continued. "He wanted her to marry one of his grandsons. It could keep him from getting uppity in the future."
"I won't throw a valuable Stark hostage to Walder Frey," Tywin said. "I'd much rather go to war with him."
Genna smirked. "So it's true. You are fond of this girl." Tywin gave her a look and she held up her hands in defense. "Jaime said it first, Tywin. You don't think I talk to my nephew?"
"If you talk to him, convince him to give up on the King's Guard. That's much more useful than you gossiping about the Stark girl," Tywin said.
"Yes, yes. Isn't that her over there?" Genna asked. Arya was indeed standing in the shadows at the other end of the path, avoiding the crowds. "You should call her over. I'd like to meet her."
Tywin sighed. When he caught Arya's eye, he waved her over. She seemed almost relieved to see him, though he supposed he was one of the few faces she knew in this crowd.
"Enjoying the wedding, Lady Arya?" he asked.
"Yes. Except for this party is too long, and people keep trying to talk to me," Arya said. "And I'd really rather skewer myself than have one more person ask me about my traitor father."
"I'd refrain from that," Tywin said. "I hope you left your new toy in your room."
"Yes of course I did. Do you think I want to draw more attention to myself?" Arya grasped the skirt of her blue dress and gave a mock curtsy. "Not to worry my lord. I'm being a perfect little lady today."
Tywin very nearly smiled, but he stopped himself in time. Genna chuckled from beside him and Arya seemed to notice her for the first time.
"Ah...forgive me...my lady, I don't know you. Apologies, I'm bad at courtesies." She curtsied again, this time for real. "My name is Arya Stark."
"Genna Lannister," his sister replied. "I'm Tywin's sister."
Arya blinked rapidly, momentarily caught off guard by this fact. "His sister? I mean, it's a pleasure to meet you, of course. I've heard so much about you."
Genna smirked. "That's a lie. Tywin never talks about his siblings. Don't worry. I'm not offended." She broke away from Tywin and grasped Arya's arm instead. "We'll leave you to your business, Tywin. I know you have many cares. I'd like to speak with Lady Stark."
Tywin resisted the urge to sigh. Of course she did. Genna was going to interrogate the girl until she knew every little thing about her. "Do as you please."
Arya shot him a slightly panicked look as Genna began guiding her down the path. She had clearly been trying to avoid such an encounter with a stranger.
But one would have an easier time escaping a lioness on the hunt than Genna once she had her mind set.
Arya was aware that Tywin had a sister. She was aware, in fact, that he had four younger siblings. But besides Kevan, she had never met any of them and she didn't really expect to. But now the Lord of Lannister's sister had her by the arm, with seemingly no intention of letting her go.
"My apologies for ambushing you, Lady Stark," Genna said. "But you've made me quite curious. Since my arrival, I've heard your name from Tyrion and Jaime. You've clearly made an impression on my house."
"Your house," Arya repeated. "Forgive me, Lady Genna. You're married aren't you?"
"Yes. To Emmon Frey."
"But you still call yourself Lannister?"
"Most people do anyway," Genna said. "When I was first married, everyone called me Frey. But when you get older, you don't have to care about such customs anymore. And my husband is too witless and weak to enforce the name."
Arya smiled a bit. "Lannister is a stronger name than Frey."
"Yes. More respected. More feared. Tywin saw to that," Genna said. "It wasn't always that way though. My father was a kindly man, but rather weak willed. No one respected him. They laughed behind his back, did not pay their debts. Now, no one would imagine slighting the Lannisters. Just the sound of the Rains of Castamere is enough to make men quake in their boots."
Arya studied Genna. She seemed to like to talk, and there were few people who knew Lord Tywin better. She wondered how many questions about him his sister might answer if she asked.
"Was he always as he is now?" Arya ventured cautiously. "Was he always so..."
"Cold? Dreary?" Genna shook her head. "No. But he was always rather intimidating, even as a child. He was the only one who would stand up for our father. Even father wouldn't do it. And he stood up for the rest of us too." She smiled. "You see, when I was seven years old, my father agreed to betroth me to my current husband Emmon. Emmon was not even Walder Frey's heir. It was an insulting sort of match. But father was eager to please and agreed to it. He announced it at a great feast, with all of the Lords of the westerlands there to hear it. I was terrified by the whole idea.
"Tywin was furious. He stood and declared the match unsuitable. Right in front of Walder Frey. A boy of ten years old. I saw Walder Frey go white as a sheet. You can't imagine the commotion he caused that day." Gemma sighed. "Well, he couldn't break up the match then. Too young. But he grew into that tenacity of his. Now the seven kingdoms live in fear of him."
"You don't," Arya pointed out.
Genna sighed and guided Arya to sit on a stone bench in the rose garden. "Oh, I fear him, child. Make no mistake. I love him dearly, but I fear the man he has become. The best parts of him died a long time ago."
"With his wife?" Arya asked. Genna raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me. I shouldn't ask."
"No, but you already have. I like people who ask questions," Genna said. "Yes. Joanna took the better parts of Tywin with her when she died. I was at Casterly Rock in the aftermath, and I saw how it changed him. Grief did not suit him at all." She glanced at Arya. "That's why we're so distant you see. I saw too much of his weakness that day, and Tywin likes to pretend he has none."
"He would be angry at you for telling me this then," Arya pointed out.
Genna smiled, looking rather pleased with herself. "Yes. He would." She turned toward Arya. "But tell me Lady Arya. I want to know your story. I've given you plenty on my brother. I want to know something about you."
"I'm sure you've heard a lot about me," Arya said.
"The basics, yes. That your father tried to refuse Joffrey the throne and lost his head. That your brother went to war for him. That Tywin used you to end help end that war," Genna said. "But how did you fall into my brother's hands exactly?"
"I was his servant," Arya said. "I was...disguised as a boy at the time, trying to flee the capitol. We were caught and taken to Harrenhal. He noticed I was a girl and decided to take me as a cupbearer. When he found out my true name, he took me as a hostage. I traveled with him from camp to camp until the war ended."
"He kept you close, did he?" Genna asked.
"If he sent me back to King's Landing, Joffrey might have killed me," Arya said. "After the war ended, I came back here with him. It's been over two years now."
"And in those two years, you seem to have rather endeared yourself to my nephews," Genna said. "And to my brother."
"I wouldn't say I've...endeared myself," Arya said.
"Well, I'm a better authority than you. Tyrion has said outright that he likes you. You treat him better than most of the people in his life, so that's not a surprise," Genna said. "Jaime called you stubborn and irritating. So obviously he enjoys your company."
"How is that obvious?" Arya asked.
"Oh, it was his tone when he said it." Genna waved her hand. "And Tywin...Well anyone who knows Tywin even a bit can tell that he favors you. I only saw you talk for half a minute and I could tell."
Arya looked down at her hands. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me that Cersei likes me next."
"Oh, heavens no. She doesn't like you at all," Genna said. "But that's not surprising. You're so much like she was at your age."
Arya bristled a bit. "I'm not-"
"Oh you're not? Did you know Cersei when she was a girl?" Genna's eyebrow arched. "She was a tenacious little thing who hated being forced into womanhood. She and Jaime were twins, but he was given a sword and she was given a dress. She despised being treated so differently. She argued against it. Sometimes, she would pick up Jaime's sword and see what it felt like to hold it."
Arya stayed silent. She had never imagined Cersei as a child. It was hard to imagine enemies as children. As less than the awful adults they had become.
"She adjusted. Adapted," Genna said. "Every lady has to at some point. You're attempting it too. With quite a bit of success. That is a lovely dress, by the way."
"My handmaid picked it," Arya ran her hand across the fabric. She remembered Shae insisting it was the best choice, and she did not argue. One did not argue with Shae on fashion. "I don't have an eye for that sort of thing."
"It doesn't matter. It makes you look like a proper lady. Which I'm sure you hate," Genna said. "I know Cersei is difficult. She could have been so much like her mother, but her mother died too early. Instead she aspired to be her father, and the world would never let her be that." She shook her head. "Meanwhile, Tywin does not realize that Tyrion is more his child than either of the twins. Such similar minds they have. Tywin is willfully blind to it. Men can be such great, thundering fools."
Arya did not reply. She did not know what to say.
"I don't tell you all of this without purpose," Genna said. "I say it, because it seems Tywin plans to keep you around for a while longer. It would benefit you to understand this family of mine."
"Yes, I think it would," Arya said.
Genna sighed and stood from her seat. "I ought to leave you be. I'm sure you've been looking for some sort of escape."
"No, my lady. I've enjoyed speaking with you. It has been...enlightening," Arya said.
"Good." Genna looked down at her. "One last thing, Lady Arya. My brother...how often have you seen him smile?"
Arya blinked in surprised. "Smile?"
"Yes. I'm just curious."
Arya rubbed her palms together. "Lord Tywin doesn't smile often."
"Often?" Genna asked. "That implies that he does at all."
"I've...seen him smile twice now," Arya admitted. "Like I said. Not often."
Genna shook her head. "Ah, Lady Arya. For Tywin, that's frightfully often indeed."
Jaime was used to standing as a bodyguard during grand occasions such as this one. He had been doing so since he was sixteen years old. As a King's Guard, it was his job to do as the king needed, and at a wedding it was his job to watch for someone slipping poison into the wine.
He ran his left hand across the hilt of his sword. It still felt strange to grasp his weapon with the wrong hand, but his grip was stronger now and surer. He could at least hold his own in a fight against an average swordsman. His practices with Arya Stark had allowed that. Slowly but surely, he was rebuilding his muscle memory.
In addition, he now had a golden hand to replace his old one. Cersei had gifted it to him before the wedding. It was a heavy thing and perhaps a bit ostentatious. But if someone came at him, he could smack them rather hard with it.
It was a bright day outside and the sunlight sparkled along the metallic surface. This hand truly did scream Lannister. The family that shits gold.
"So you did regrow your hand," a voice said from his right. He turned to see Arya standing beside him, a little smirk on her face.
"Yes I did," Jaime said. "The Lannisters are never for want of gold. Be careful though. If you touch it, it might turn you to gold as well."
"Hmm." Arya reached out and tapped the hand with her finger. "No. I suppose I'm immune. That's a shame. I'd like to become a statue right now to escape this party."
"You'd make a wonderful addition to the garden," Jaime said. She actually did look something like a lady that day. Her hair had grown past her shoulders and was nicely braided by her handmaiden. And the blue dress suited her. Starks did like blue. But it was stitched with a golden pattern at the sleeves, as if to remind the world that she belonged to the Lannister family. "You know, this could have been your wedding."
"Thank the gods it's not," Arya said. "It's not that I don't like the king. Actually, he's very kind and I enjoy his company. But I cannot even imagine standing in Lady Margaery's place." She nodded at the main table. "Look at her. Perfectly happy. Perfectly graceful. I could never be that charming."
You're charming enough to make my father like you, Jaime thought. "It takes practice, I hear. Just like swordplay." He looked down at her. "Speaking of which, I have not seen you practicing lately, Lady Stark."
"It's been a busy month," Arya said. "I'll return to it. I need to practice wielding a different kind of sword."
"Why a different kind of sword?" Jaime asked. "Growing tired of that Needle?"
"No. I still treasure Needle," Arya said. "But I have a new sword now."
"Really? How did you acquire a new sword and does my father know?"
"He does," she looked up at him. "He gave it to me."
Jaime blinked a few times. Seven hells his father gave her a sword?
"But of course, I'm more used to stabbing with a thin blade," Arya continued on as if she had not said anything astonishing at all. "This is more of a typical knight's blade. Perhaps you could teach me something?"
"Perhaps." Jaime shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't get past the fact that my father gave you a sword."
"Why?" Arya asked. "I saved his life. He paid a debt."
"With a sword?"
"What's this about a sword?" Tyrion asked, joining into the conversation. He was in good spirits, and likely on his fourth cup of wine.
"Father gave her a sword," Jaime said.
"Why are you surprised?" Tyrion asked. "That was only a matter of time. She killed three assassins with a tiny knife. Next time he'll want her to have a better weapon."
"Yes. In case there are five assassins," Arya pointed out. She looked just a bit too smug.
"Or seven," Tyrion said. "Let's not underestimate your abilities, Lady Arya."
"You're right. Seven. I can take seven."
Jaime exhaled. Apparently Tyrion had fully accepted that Arya had found a ridiculous amount of favor with their father. He didn't even seem phased by it anymore.
"Anyhow, my lady, I saw you speaking with Aunt Genna earlier," Tyrion continued on. "Tell me, did she learn your whole life story or just most of it?"
"She asked me some questions," Arya admitted. "I like her though. She's not as afraid of your father as most."
"Yes, she has that rare distinction. I do believe she's his favorite sibling," Tyrion said. "Or is it Uncle Kevan? Well it's one of those two. His relationship with Uncle Tygitt and Gerion has always been a bit more...unstable."
"It's strange to picture him being a child and having siblings," Arya said.
"As opposed to springing fully formed from the stone of a mountain? Yes, I agree," Tyrion said. "But Aunt Genna insists that he was, indeed, born like any mortal man. I suppose we'll take her word for it."
"How would she know?" Jaime asked. "She's younger. She wasn't there."
Tyrion snickered and raised his cup and even Arya let out a laugh at that. It was actually a rather rare thing to see Arya laugh. She was always so on guard. So wary. Jaime didn't blame her for that in a place like King's Landing. But she was beginning to let herself grin and laugh without restrain.
Jaime wondered if she was adjusting to this place. Adapting. He wondered if she was beginning to settle into being a ward to House Lannister.
But then, as if sensing both Arya and Tyrion's happiness, Cersei swept in to put an end to it. She was dressed in Lannister red and gold today, with magnificent jewelry and hair fitting the mother of the king. It was the first time she had abandoned black mourning attire. This was a happy occasion, after all. But she had smiled very little at this wedding.
"It's nice that you can all be so happy," Cersei said flatly. "But you're distracting Jaime. He should be protecting the king from harm."
"The king is fine," Jaime said. "I'm keeping a close watch, I promise."
"Were you keeping a close watch on the day Joffrey died?" Cersei retorted.
Jaime bit back a reply. It wasn't wise to antagonize her right now. But Tyrion was so drunk to realize that.
"Please, Cersei, Tommen is getting married. I know you're losing your queenly status, but do try to be happy," Tyrion said.
"My eldest son died a month ago. Why would I be happy?"
"Because your eldest son tried to kill your youngest?" Tyrion suggested.
Cersei glared at him, fire flaring in her green eyes. "Don't speak those words freely out here. Not when others can hear them."
"You're the only one who doesn't want to hear them," Tyrion said. "It conflicts, doesn't it? You hate anyone who hurts your children, but one child tried to kill the other. What do you do?"
"Tyrion." Jaime rested a hand on his shoulder. He was speaking truth, but this was not the place to speak it.
"You're such a vile little creature," Cersei hissed. "You always have been. Plotting. Scheming."
"Those are the same thing."
"And so...so funny," Cersei said. "Well keep making your jokes. You won't get to make them forever."
"That sounds suspiciously like a threat," Tyrion said. Jaime squeezed his shoulder in warning and he sighed. "But this is a wedding. We should make peace." Tyrion extended his cup. "Here. You need it more than I."
"I don't trust anything from you," Cersei said.
"I assure you. I've just drunk from this cup. It's not poison, sweet sister."
Cersei's whole face froze in anger for a moment. Then she smacked the cup from Tyrion's hand, sending it spinning across the ground. The red stained the stones. Without another word, she stalked off.
Tyrion rubbed his fingers together. "I admit, that was bad wording."
"Oh, do you?" Jaime shot him a glare. "She's still mourning, Tyrion. I know you two hate each other, but couldn't you be gentler?"
Tyrion shrugged once.
"You should be careful," Arya said quietly. Oddly enough, she had watched the whole scene in complete silence. Arya was not usually one to be silent in Cersei's company. "Cersei is still looking for someone to blame for Joffrey's death. What if she blames you?"
"I'll correctly say that I didn't do it," Tyrion said.
Jaime's jaw clenched. Tyrion should know better than anyone that the truth didn't stop Cersei. If she could still love Joffrey after what he did, it meant she was an expert at deluding herself.
If she got it into her head that Tyrion killed her son...no one would be able to stop her. Not even with truth.