Bringing the Dawn

LXXVI.

Tywin Lannister

Casterly Rock, 301 AC

Idiots and lickspittles.

Was that all he was surrounded with nowadays? It certainly seemed to. A few days had passed since the news reached them of his brothers capture, feeling shame deep within. Not that he would let the shame be visible, he would be the last person to portray how he really felt with everything. For decades he had worked to get his House into the position it had been during Robert's reign, and in less than a year it had been ripped to pieces until it was simply speckles of dirt being carried away by the wind.

It was not the first time he had thought to himself that things would be different had Aerys just accepted the damned betrothal between Rhaegar and Cersei. They deserved it, after all. Tywin had been summoned to court during Aegon V's reign as a page boy and his Joanna had also been sent to be a Lady-In-Waiting to the young Princess Rhaella. Many saw it as an honour, but not him. He knew it was a way for his father to send him far away from the Westerland's as punishment for speaking up against the farce of a match of his sister Genna and Emmon Frey.

A Frey and a Lannister? Laughable on its own. A second son for the only daughter of the main branch of House Lannister? An insult at best and an embarrassment at worst. Even now, he recalled the way Ellyn Reyne had cackled aloud when the announcement was made, gritting his teeth in anger before softening upon realising she had died alongside her son Tion when they had launched an attack on Tarbeck Hall causing the roof to collapse in on itself. A few survivors did escape, but they did not survive for long. He and his men had seen to that.

Yet being sent away had its advancements, there was no denying such a fact. He had been thrown into a cage with vipers but vipers were no match for a lion. Using his new position to befriend as many people as possible- specifically Prince Aerys and Steffon Baratheon the Heir of Storm's End. He'd weaved his way around everyone to figure out their wants and he had played on those wants until they were in a circle with himself walking around them as quiet as a cat could be. He'd gotten so close to snapping his jaws on his prey much like he had with the Reyne's and the Tarbeck's, and it had all come crashing down on him when Aerys had laughed at the proposition.

How dare he? How dare anyone laugh in his face? He was the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Warden of the West, and the grandfather of the rightful King. That put him in a position that people should be kneeling before him but not necessarily at him, and he had burned with rage at the display. The rage deepened when he heard whispers of Aerys' lust for his Joanna, and the rage had burst when she had been sent away by the then Queen Rhaella. Not only had his golden lioness been shamed in such a way, their whole House was shamed at the betrothal with the sickly Princess of Dorne.

Yet now, he found himself in a similar position. Thinking quietly to himself in the Lord's quarters of Casterly Rock for a final night before he would be riding for Castamere again. Mayhaps this time the Young Wolf would break. It annoyed him greatly he had yet to do so, and deep within he could almost say he admired the resolve of the man. Normally people snapped much quicker, and Robb Stark showed no signs yet of stopping his snarling fangs.

Something had to be done, that was certain. Word had come from his sister that Roslin Stark had found out she was with babe, a smile coming onto his face because that may just be the key to complete his task. If Robb Stark broke, the North lay in the hands of a crippled boy. It would fall to a Castellan to help the boy rule the North and it would weaken them. With a weakened North, they had an opportunity to strike. Kevan had agreed with it, as had Dorna despite initially being against the move. If they succeeded, Janei would be betrothed to either Brandon or Rickon Stark, which would allow them to sink their claws into the North.