#houst stark

[vigilante24ish]

The Shadow Queen of Tywin Lannister

Summary:

After the death of his wife, Tywin Lannister knew he would never remarry. However, when the relationships between Targaryens & Lannisters are put into question, marriage seems to be the only choice left. To his surprise, it is he who will get married to none other than the King’s younger sister.

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Pairing: Fem!OC x Tywin Lannister Chapter Warnings: None

Previous - Chapter 35: The Royal Family Visits Winterfell Next - Chapter 37: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

Chapter 36: Masks & Lies All Around

Winterfell – The North – The day after Robert’s Visit

By the time the sun was fully up above the North and Winterfell, the main courtyard had been occupied by the Stark Children. As per usual, they wished to practise their sword skills, sparring with one another.

This time, they had a small crowd as members of the Lannister family happened to watch from different positions. They were not truly interested in the show but were passing by and chose to see it, especially when a specific Lion chose to join the training.

Somehow, young Trystan had managed to persuade the Stark children to allow him to participate.

When it was time for a spar, Jon backed down.”Bastards cannot harm heirs, Ser. No matter what family they come from,”

“Well, it says nothing of an heir against another”, Robb had commented right after, feeling a sense of adrenaline at the thought of sparring with the young Knight.

Trystan seemed more than happy to accept his challenge, and both picked up a training sword made of thick, heavy wood. After both had fixed their positions, they started to spar, and the sound of wood against wood echoed across the open area.

Robb was very good with the sword, having been practising for years with many knights and even his father. He had a good stance, and his attacks were more strength-based than his opponent's.

However, the Half-Lion was faster and easily blocked his attacks or dodged them, making the young Direwolf stumble forward a few times.

Unlike many knights, Trystan did not fight based on brute strength but had a more flexible style. He did block and attack with the right footwork, using his height when he could, but he often chose to dodge and tire out his opponent.

“What kind of fighting is that? Never seen someone moving so much,” Arya commented as she watched, glancing at her brother Jon.

“A more versatile one,” A new voice said as Tyrion joined them, on the other side of the Stark girl. “My brother follows his mother’s path, choosing to be faster and tiring his opponents than using brute strength like a barbarian.”

“My brother does not fight like a barbarian,” Arya quickly argued, rushing to defend Robb.

Tyrion smirked. “Who said I was talking about your brother?” he asked, making her look to the side in embarrassment and annoyance that she fell for it. “I mostly referred to knights in King’s Landing, especially some of the Kingsguard. Honestly, when they train, it makes you wonder if they do try to disarm their opponents or just test who can push the other the furthest away,” his words amused the two stark children, and he took pride in it. “Anyways, my younger brother can fight like a knight and rely purely on strength, but I can see he is more in the mood to be less professional today.”

Surprisingly, Robb seemed amused by the whole sparring and he kept attacking; trying to bring his opponent down despite their tricks. Trystan, would sometimes switch and try to par him with strength or force him to take a step back but it was clear from the smirk upon his lips that he was enjoying it too.

“You mentioned his mother. You mean the former Princess?” Arya asked after another silent moment of observing, her eyes never leaving the two elder boys.

“Just don’t call her like that when she is around, she will not like it,” the dwarf joked. “But yes, my good-mother does have a surprising record in combat for a woman.”

Both Starks knew all too well of the famous Targaryen who married the Old Lion back when the Mad King still ruled. It was known that she led men into battle, with the biggest being the one in the Trident, where her nephew perished under Robert’s war hammer, and she was taken prisoner.

Arya was personally inspired by Visenya’s past since not many women were known or even allowed to carry weapons, let alone fight in wars. She often wished she could have the same freedom, to learn how to fight without anyone daring to judge her due to her gender, as they did every day.

The young Stark hoped one day to meet the Dragoness, maybe ask her for some advice, or even ask to be trained by her. Although she doubted she would meet her anytime soon.

They would leave for King’s Landing the following day since her father had chosen to accept the offer and become Hand of the King. Based on the stories, ever since Robert ascended to the throne, Visenya did not step into King’s Landing, even when Cersei gave birth.

Rumours said that there was bad blood between those two, and if they were in the same room together, one of the two would try to murder the other. Based on the impression Arya got of Robert, she was even more certain that Visenya would win in a fight.

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Ironically, the man of her thoughts was standing on one of the wooden platforms that acted as outside corridors between parts of the castle. He was leaning on the wooden railing, holding it with both hands in an iron grip while Ned was by his side.

“Is he the boy?” Ned asked his friend, seeing the glare Robert sent to the teenager as he sparred with Robb.

“Unfortunately. One of the few Dragonspawns left,” he said, making the Stark Lord arch an eyebrow.

His choice of words was odd, considering that there were only two Targaryens left, and they were both in Westeros. Unless there was something more that Robert had not told him yet or refused to tell him, Net knew he would have to find out.

“He is not really a Dragon, only a half, and he doesn’t look like one either”, Eddard said.

He knew Robert was bloodthirsty when it came to the Targaryens, and he would easily murder kids since, in his eyes, they were only ‘dragon spawns’. However, he hoped that because Trystan was different, he would be safe from his rage.

“Does it matter, Ned? They all carry the same cursed blood. I wouldn’t even have him around me, but Cersei kept insisting, wishing to be around her family, as if she didn’t have enough of them around,” the King said, clearly not happy with how his wife ended up winning that argument.

“He seems like a nice boy, intelligent and mannered.”

Robert felt the need to roll his eyes and ended up scoffing instead. “He is. He is the perfect young knight, the perfect mannered heir, the perfect intelligent man,” he said, venom dripping from his every word. “He is just too perfect, and he knows it. I swear, Ned, when he looks at me with those eyes of his, I know he is planning how to kill me. I can just feel that he will be my demise because the Gods are that cruel with their jokes.”

Ned remained silent momentarily, his eyes never leaving the two teenage boys. However, his thoughts trailed back to the events of last night when he and Cat received a letter from her sister claiming that Robert’s life was in danger.

After Jon Arryn was poisoned, Lysa suspected that the King was next and that an assassination attempt would be made against him.

Truthfully, Ned thought it was all just the words of a grieving woman, and no harm would truly come to Robert. However, with how he talked about Trystan, he could not help but think.

He doubted the boy would ever plan to take down the King since the Lannisters would not benefit from it. The crown owned too much money, and Cersei married the King. Yet again, Visenya was not a Lannister by blood, and she could have her agenda.

It was known to almost all that the Dragoness had a unique way of thinking and that she had not seen Robert since the loss at the Trident. Perhaps she was thinking of exacting her revenge for the murder of her nephew, although she did have the Old Lion above her head at all times.

Thus, in his mind, the chances for her to be the culprit without even stepping into King’s Landing in over 16 years were quite slim.

“Why have you kept him around, then? Why not send him back to Casterly Rock?” he finally asked Robert as he focused on the boys.

By now, the sparring had ended with Robb on the ground, but there was no bad blood between them. Trystan had offered his hand to his opponent, and the two of them seemed to share a joke as Arya and Jon joined them.

“Because he has done nothing wrong so far to give me an excuse. He has been that perfect soldier, and Cersei would make my life hell if I dared to send him away without a proper reasoning,” Robert admitted, clearly annoyed by the fact that both his hands were tied behind his back at the whole thing.

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Nearly an hour since Trystan befriended the Stark kids, grave news found them all. One of the younger Stark boys, Bran, was in a coma after falling from the top of one of the towers.

Bran was known to climb the steep stones on the outside walls of the tall towers, spending hours enjoying the view and never falling. The sudden fall was suspicious in the heart and the back of Cat’s mind, who was busy crying over her son.

The boy was alive but unresponsive, the Maester not knowing whether he would ever wake up or not.

After that, the mood turned grim in Winterfell as the Starks withdrew themselves to handle the shock and perhaps started fears of losing their brother.

Trystan was the first to offer his condolences to Lady Stark, having chosen to do so before heading to meet his family for lunch.

Upon entering their guest dining area, he found Jaime and Cersei already seated with Tommen. Tyrion was nowhere to be found, but neither was Joffrey.

“Oh good, the golden boy has chosen to grace us with his presence,” Cersei said, clearly not in a happy mood.

Yet again, when was she ever truly happy? Trystan could barely think of a single moment that she was, at least in the years he spent with her in King’s Landing.

“Greetings to you too, sister, brother, Myrcella, Tommen.” At the last one, he moved behind the boy and used two fingers to touch a sensitive spot on his sides, making him ticklish.

“Uncle”, he called between giggles, always enjoying the teasing of the younger Lion. “Sit with me,” he said once he was free from the tickling fingers.

“Well, if my good nephew wishes me to. Who am I to refuse him?” he said and sat at Tommen’s left.

The boy chuckled while Cersei rolled her eyes at the sight. Trystan was sometimes too good at what he did, and that felt so fake in her eyes. Perhaps it was not, but she could not help it as a part of her always had jealousy for the younger Lion.

He spent most time with their father. He was the future heir of Casterly Rock and their father’s pride, at least in her eyes. Yet, sometimes, his presence was soothing to her since he was family.

He looked like them, and he did strive for the same approval from their father. The kids loved him, at least the younger ones. It was good for them to have some proper male role models in their lives who were not a drunk Imp or a horny fat stag.

“Bring me some bacon, black,” a familiar voice said as everyone had started eating, or at least Trystan had since he had arrived later than the others. The order was addressed to a Lannister soldier, who acted as their servant for the duration of the meal.

He then picked up little Tommen, earning giggles of approval from the boy and placed him just a tad to the side so he could sit next to Jaime.

“Little brother,” Jaime greeted him.

“Beloved siblings.”

There was a small moment of silence as Tyrion got himself some food, ignoring the silent glares from his sister.

“Is Bran going to die?” Myrcella suddenly asked from her position next to her mother at one side of the table, across from all the males.

“Apparently not,” Tyrion said, since he was the last to see the Maester and overhear the latest news.

“What do you mean?” Cersei asked him.

“The Maester said the boy might live,” he explained as the twins shared a silent look between them.

“Well then, at least some good news on the table,” Trystan said, trying to change the mood and pretend he did not just notice that twin-mental communication between Cersei and Jaime.

“I wouldn’t call them good news, Trystan. I wouldn’t even call them mercy, letting a child linger in such pain,” Cersei argued.

“Only the Gods know for certain. All the rest of us can do is pray,” Tyrion commented, silencing the table once again. He continued to eat, observing each one of his family members.

Myrcella and Tommen were clueless, just happy to hear their latest friend would survive. They only had one night together, but due to their close age, they had gotten a little bit close.

Cersei was obviously bothered by something, evident by her lack of eating and the glances she stole at Jaime's direction. Her twin seemed to be slightly uncomfortable suddenly, looking more at his plate and finding his food more interesting.

Trystan, on the other hand, seemed not to take his eyes off his older siblings. Chewing slowly and silently, one could see gears spinning inside that pretty head of his as he studied them; perhaps even made theories that no one else would think of making.

Not liking the silence and, of course, not missing the chance to annoy his sister, Tyrion chose to speak again. “The Charms of the North seem entirely lost on you.”

“I still can’t believe you are going,” she said, choosing to change the subject of the discussion. “It is ridiculous, even for you”, she added, referring to his decision to visit the Wall.

If one were to look at the scene, one would suspect that Cersei was the leader of the lion siblings. Sitting in the middle chair, across from all the men, and always having the last word on things.

More than once, people would see Cersei in command, with only Tyrion brave and stupid enough to rile her up when bored. It was an interesting thing to notice, perhaps to study, because the dynamic could easily be swift if one of the males chose to try to stand their ground.

One would even wonder how the dynamic would change if the parents were present. If not Visenya, then Tywin certainly would take the charge without any protest from anyone, for he was still the Head of the Lion Pride.

“Where is your sense of wonder?” he asked, glancing at his siblings. “The Greatest structure ever built, the intrepid men of the Night’s Watch. The windy abode of the white walkers,” he teased Tommen, pretending he was attacking him. He then turned to the youngest of the siblings. “Trystan, back me up here. You are the biggest History worm book amongst all of us. You should feel my sense of wonder.”

The teenager felt every green pair of eyes on him, but he was so used to them by now that he felt no effect. He pierced his food with his fork a few times.

“It is one of the greatest accomplishments. Although controversially, the fight against the First Children is not highly viewed by certain people,” he said, glancing up at them and mostly at Tyrion. “I do understand your fascination, brother, but I do not share it. The wall is too north, it is impregnable, and whatever is on the other side is none of our concern. If we are to focus on something, it's better to focus on something closer to us and of greater importance, such as most of the South,” he reminded many, for a moment sounding too much like their father.

The rest of the siblings exchanged a look, a shiver going down their spines as a reaction to his words. It was not his words but the tone and voice behind them that had an eerie resemblance to what their father would say.

While away from his influence, there were times they looked at Trystan and could see a younger version of Tywin staring back at them. It was unsettling, to say the least, but thankfully, such moments were always short-lived and rare.

“Tell me you are not thinking of taking the Black?” Jaime asked him, amusing Trystan.

“Do they even allow dwarves to take it?” he could not help but ask, his mood shifting to a less serious one, but the amusement he had when he was around the Stark Children was long gone.

“Even if they did, can you imagine? Me, going celibate? The Whores would go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock,” he joked, making his two brothers smirk as they enjoyed his joke; they did almost all of his jokes. “No, I just want to stand on top of the wall and piss off the edge of the world.”

“And here I thought for once you were interested in the history and creation of a place that is not a whorehouse,” the younger Lion commented, making Jaime chuckle while he simply kept smirking in personal victory.

Your turn next time, his eyes said to his eldest brother while ignoring the annoyed look of Cersei. She never approved of Jaime or Trystan encouraging jokes with the little monster.

“The children do not need to hear your filth,” the Lioness said, leaning forward and almost ready to pounce at him. She then glanced at Trystan. “Do not encourage him either to continue, either of you.” Her eyes moved to Jaime since she knew he would also get the chance if it was given to him. “Come.”

Without another word, her two children stood up after her and followed suit, leaving the three male Lannisters behind.

“Even if the boy lives, he will be a cripple, a grotesque. Give me a good, clean death every day.” Jaime commented, earning an eye roll from Trystan. “Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me. You and I both know you would take the same option as me.”

Trystan did not reply and simply lifted his hands faintly up in the air. Do not involve me in this.

“Speaking for the grotesques, I’d have to disagree.” Tyrion started the mood seriously.

The youngest of the three, knowing where this would lead, chose to stand up. “I will let you two continue this discussion since I do sense some personal unattended feelings,” he said and emptied the rest of his water into his mouth. I will see you all later on.”

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As it was planned, the next day they left Winterfell with more people than they had come. Eddard Stark, his daughters Sansa and Arya, would join them at King’s Landing while Caitlyn would return with Robb, the youngest Stark and the comatose Bran.

One would expect the trip to go smoothly, especially since Tyrion had joined Jon Snow and the rest for the Wall; but no. A lot of incidents took place, most in a single day.

Joffrey had found Arya fighting with sticks with the butcher’s son and had attacked the boy to satisfy his sadistic needs, knowing very well his opponent could not hit him without risking execution.

In the end, Arya defended the boy, disarmed Joffrey, and even threw his sword into the Ruby River, which Trystan found Ironic considering the importance of that river to his mother and family.

Of course, there was the dire wolf of the young Stark that had attacked Joffrey to defend her master, and in the end, she was set free to escape being butchered by the soldiers.

Yet, the spoiled prince demanded justice for the new scars on his arm, and the result was that Sansa’s obedient dire wolf was killed instead.

It was a very bad beginning, resulting in the rest of the 1.5-month trip continuing with thick tension among many.

Arya and Sansa did not talk, since the eldest had defended Joffrey. In her eyes, the kid was the perfect prince, handsome and kind, unaware of his true, sadistic personality.

The loss of her direwolf, or better say, murder, had crushed the spirits of the eldest Stark for a few days. Trystan tried to comfort her once, but was pulled away by Cersei. Since the girl was to be betrothed to Joffrey, it was up to the boy to comfort her.

Ridiculous. He has no sense of sympathy or empathy whatsoever. He cannot even fake it to save his life, the youngest Lion had thought but said nothing out loud, knowing it was a lost battle.

Instead, he spent his days riding in front of everyone, and at night, he would read or send letters to his parents, keeping them informed of what was taking place and how their grandchildren were growing up.

He knew that if things ever became too much, at least their father would come and tighten the leashes around their necks; and this was the only thing that kept his patience going when he was faced with such things.

That and his father’s advice, which was based on his personal experience as Hand of a bad and mad King for 14 years.

“The court is made up of fools, and you will witness things that will test your patience and your temper. With that fool as King and Cersei in power, it is set to be a catastrophe. However, it is wise to know when to interfere and when to just let things happen. Sometimes, our interference might only worsen the situation and bring no desired results.”

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Casterly Rock – Westerlands – The following day after the Direwolf incident.

Visenya stood over her desk in her office, one hand playing with the ends of the belt around her silken red robe as it fell loosely around her body. Winter was slowly coming, but the WesterLands were still quite warm, allowing her to move around and sleep with thinner clothes.

Her other hand was placed on the desk for support as her amber eyes fell on one of the two letters spread in front of her. She had just received both of them, the difference being a few minutes, and Tywin was bathing, so she had the chance to read them first.

Letting out a sigh, she pushed herself to stand at her full height and closed her eyes momentarily, thinking. After a minute of pure silence, she grabbed one of the two letters with one hand and moved it above the flame of the candle she used for better lighting.

She held the parchment and watched as the edge of it caught on fire. The ember flames quickly devoured the material as it wrinkled and turned ash grey, barely holding it together.

She kept holding it, waiting and not making a move even as the flames came too close to her fingers. She felt the heat but no pain, no injury even as the flames licked the skin of her thumb and index finger.

Soon enough, the paper was mere ash that she blew away before looking at her fingers. There was not a single hint of damage, no irritation; nothing. It was as if the flame never reached her, never been close to her skin but it had been.

She moved the same hand, grabbed the letter that had Trystan’s neat handwriting on it and moved around the desk. She used her other hand to grab the candle, heading for the door as she let the room slowly become dark while she walked away from the only source of light.

Yet, the moon's light did shine through the glass of the closed window and shone above the desk. A small, single thing seemed to reflect its silver light: a single silver coin with the three-headed dragon engraved on either side.

[somebean81]

I wanted to play 4-player checkers with my family today, but I made the starking realization that my mother hast removed the checkerboard playing set. Houst dare she

[looseseal2]

The More I Get Into

Game of Thrones, the less I like the Starks.  I'm going to go back and re-read them before the next book comes out in July, but on the second round, and viewing them through the show, the Starks are a lot less sympathetic.  They seem willfully stupid to everything that is going on around them.  Ned and Catelyn's poor decisions in the name of misguided honor really screw their family at every turn.