The Girl With Violet Eyes

Happy Hunting Ground

The following weeks Asriel's initial anger from hearing Tywin's words abated little by little, until it left in its place a cold indifference that brought her strength and comfort when she needed it. After all, Tywin hadn't meant what he said in a malicious way-in fact, he had no ill intent towards her at all. It seemed that in his eyes she was nothing but a pawn in his games of power, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, she was angry, and upset, and insulted, because he'd think so little of her, misuse his authority over her in such a manner, hardly bother to consider her feelings or thoughts. It was as if he didn't see her like a person at all. And maybe he did. Tywin seemed like a man hardened by the passage of time, burdened with the pain of loss and having shut any and all emotions out because of it. He had a vision, a goal in life, and that was to restore House Lannister to its former glory. He put all his drive and motivation into that single purpose and shut everything else out. The things Tywin had said, they'd come from that place of silent contemplation, that understanding of human nature and the ability to use it to bend people to his will. He'd not meant any harm, he'd been merely stating facts.

The fact that he could shove those facts where the sun didn't shine for all Asriel cared didn't change that. It had almost felt like betrayal; hearing Tywin speak of a cold and calculated manipulation of her loyalties. And it had hurt, mostly because she would have fallen for it. Had she not heard Tywin speak those words to Kevan, Asriel knew she'd have eventually succumbed to his schemes. Now that she knew what he planned, at least she could harden her heart against such manipulations. Steel her nerves and not give in to the carefully crafted plans Tywin had in store for her.

It seemed that as long as Asriel would remain at Casterly Rock, it would be a game of play pretend for the both of them. Always having intended to use the opportunities presented for her own needs and gains, Asriel now felt a whole lot better about their arrangements. It would seem they were in for a game of push and pull, of give and take, where both parties were keenly aware of what the other wanted, and yet never quite truly being able to grasp the other's intentions.

Now that she was a Ward of House Lannister, she enjoyed newfound liberties she hadn't previously enjoyed as Tywin's cupbearer. She could come and go around the castle and neighbouring villages as she pleased-although always accompanied by a minimum of two Lannister guards. At first, she'd thought it was because Tywin didn't trust her-and he'd be right-but the Old Lion never admitted to such a degree of concern. Instead he calmly informed Asriel that he was merely trying to protect his investment, that any Lord or Lady of his house never went anywhere unescorted. Anyone who was anyone was worth something to others, that's what the Warden of the West had stated, and he'd dismissed her without another word. He probably didn't trust her either, but that hardly seemed to matter.

Asriel had also recently discovered the library, and no other find could have excited her more. She knew how to read, to the eternal surprise of Septa Morgana, who seemed to think that anybody born outside of either the Faith or one of the big Houses must be illiterate. The large room in the South wing of Casterly Rock was filled with large bookcases, reaching from floor to ceiling and sagging under the weight of the numerous heavy tomes lining the shelves. Asriel ran into the castle's Maester, an older man by the name of Orwyn, who seemed surprised at someone of the female sex presenting an interest in books. He was a shrewd old man in his sixties, tall and lanky with an agile grace that put Asriel's teeth on edge. With a hooked nose and sharp piercing grey eyes his silver hair was stringy and a bit on the long side, and he was as tall as she was. The Maester begrudgingly allowed her into his domain, as he'd proclaimed the library, since after little Lord Tyrion had left no one really bothered to go there but him.

Septa Morgana had been assigned to instruct her in the Ways of the Seven, and although the books on the subject of the Faith held little interest to Asriel, who was raised with foreign gods and a profound knowledge of the arcane, she dutifully went through the musty tomes, trying to figure out why these westerners held such high beliefs in their seven gods.