Argella

II. Of Argella's Ambition

Argella gazed in awe as the colossal Casterly Rock loomed before her. The tales and songs she had heard couldn't do justice to the magnificence of her grandfather's seat of power. With a wide grin, she thought, "This will be mine, all of it."

Turning her attention to the rhythmic sound of approaching horse hooves, Argella saw her uncle Jaime Lannister riding beside her litter.

"Casterly Rock is beautiful, uncle. How long has it been since you were last here?" she inquired, watching as Jaime took in the sight with a distant look in his eyes, lost in his childhood memories.

"Since the Greyjoy Rebellion," he replied.

"I remember that," Argella recalled wistfully. "I was just four years old at the time. I cried when you and father had to leave King's Landing. I was afraid you wouldn't return. But my mother assured me that you would, she said you had to."

She watched Jaime, wondering if he had heard her thoughts.

"Although I doubt she meant the same for my father."

Jaime's laughter dispelled her doubts. "That's your mother for you. If you'll excuse me, princess," he said as he rode ahead of the procession, letting the conversation fade into the background.

Argella gracefully stepped out of her litter when they reached the steps leading to the castle. Her eyes fixated on a figure among the crowd, her grandfather, Tywin Lannister. Despite his advanced age, Tywin still exuded an aura of power, fear, and respect. She curtsied under her grandfather's scrutinizing gaze and felt a surge of pride when she rose to see his approving look.

Tywin offered his arm, and Argella happily accepted, making way through the lords and servants who stepped aside to make a path for them.

"Your mother told me that you wanted to be fostered here in Casterly Rock," Tywin began as they settled in his solar, with her uncle, Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard, stationed outside, much to Tywin Lannister's displeasure.

"I may be a Baratheon, but I am a Lannister too, thanks to my mother's efforts. I grew up hearing tales about you, grandfather, and I knew that I wanted to be like you," she said, using the courtesy she had been taught.

Tywin regarded her skeptically. "You want Casterly Rock," he accused.

Argella's feigned courtesy faltered. She decided to abandon it. Tywin Lannister was not a man who could be swayed by politeness and smiles.

"I do want Casterly Rock," she said, meeting her grandfather's gaze with equal determination. "I came here to learn how to rule the Westerlands, and what I said is true; I admire you, grandfather. I came here to learn from you."

"You wish to take Casterly Rock from the Lannisters. A Baratheon ruling the Westerlands! Do you wish to tarnish this family's legacy, girl?"

Argella replied firmly, "Not as a Baratheon. I want to be a Lannister, not by my mother's lineage or my father's decree, but by marriage."

Tywin composed himself, continuing to fix his gaze on his granddaughter. Argella took it as a sign to explain further.

"When the time comes, I will ask my father to release Uncle Jaime from the Kingsguard. I will then request him to arrange a marriage between us. I will need your support, grandfather," she implored.

"You're still a child," Tywin stated the obvious.

Argella thought about rolling her eyes, but this was Tywin Lannister she was talking to. "Yes, I'm twelve years of age now, but I'm still growing."

"And you've had this plan all along?"

"Since the day I asked Uncle Jaime to make me his bride," she admitted.

Tywin laughed. It was a sound Argella had never heard from him before. She even wondered if he knew how to laugh.

"You are a Lannister, despite your Baratheon appearance," he said, reaching for a quill and parchment.

"You will be fostered here in Casterly Rock. You will learn how to be the Lady of this House, and when the time comes, you will support my son in his duties as Lord of House Lannister."

"And, girl," he added, "if you want to wed Jaime, you should stop calling him 'uncle.'"

Argella offered him a genuine smile, "As you command, my lord."

As Tywin Lannister began writing a letter, Argella's eyes wandered around the room. Everything was adorned with lion motifs in red and gold, a testament to the grandiosity of House Lannister. Maybe, she thought, everything they say is true; Lannisters truly pride themselves in their name.

"How can you be sure that Robert will let Jaime go?" her grandfather asked after a while. He had finished writing and was now sealing the parchment.

Argella's smirk returned as Tywin raised an eyebrow. "It's simple," she answered. "It's what I want."