Game of Thrones one shots / preferences

Tywin Lannister X Reader - Pt.3 - (Words On A Page)

You had a bad feeling from the moment he locked the door. You take calming breaths, willing your heart to slow. 

"Well?" The old lion asked, turning to you.

"I'm sorry? I don't understand what you mean, My Lord." You stutter, panic bubbling in your chest and stomach.

"Don't lie to me, y/n." Lord Tywin paced over and sat opposite you once more. "Lilac eyes aren't the most common to see in Westeros anymore, and your hands are distinctively spindly. You're clearly well bred and don't have a bowed gait like most of the small folk. You were evidently fed well as a child, and educated as you can read perfectly."

You sigh and decide it best to be honest. "... I spent the first six years of my life in Lys, being raised by my mother Lady Calla and my father Lord Verron." You take a large drink and continue. "My father died from Shaking Sickness, so my mother decided to sell our property and move back to the Crownlands."

"And how did you come to work here?"

"My mother is unwell, and is unable to continue her work as a baker in the Street of Flour. Therefore, I had to find work that would allow me to sustain us. There is little agreeable work for a woman, so I took my chance of working here as I could not face becoming a whore." You reply, looking the man in the face. You couldn't act afraid, what was done was done.

Placing a hand on his chin he asked - "What ails Lady Calla?"

Sighing, you answer. "The healer says it's a consequence of inhaling flour for so many years. I however am unsure. She seems to be wasting, eaten from inside out." 

"I see. I am sorry to hear. Your mother grew up on Casterly Rock, she was a friend of my sister Genna." He replied.

"I did not know that, My Lord." You lie.

"And you live in the city?" He asked.

"Yes, My Lord. We live in a room above a tavern on the Muddy Way."

Tywin nodded. He walked over to the door and opened it, where he muttered a few words to the guard. He then rebolted the door and sat at his desk, writing on some parchment. 

Your stomach was in knots. He was most definitely sending guards to take your mother to the dungeons, as well as a writ of execution for the both of you. You look at your hands in your lap, determined not to cry and show weakness. One thing your mother always taught you was to never let them see you cry.

"Come here" He ordered. You stood and walked to his desk, your legs wobbling. "Sign here. And there, on your mother's behalf." He gestured to two spaces either side of his at the bottom of the paper. You picked up the quill and signed yours and your mother's names. You didn't even dare to read it. 

"Sit, have some more wine, and do not even attempt to leave my rooms." He ordered, getting up with the papers in his hand and leaving.