The Chambers of the Hand, Red Keep - King's Landing, CrownLands
Visenya sat on her chair by Tywin's right, facing the same table the small council had a meeting a few days ago. Her husband, as per usual, was sitting at the head of the table with Cersei on his left.
Next to Visenya sat Trystan, without his usual armour and having a style similar to his father; although less strict and menacing. He had said nothing since he arrived with his mother, afraid of what he would hear.
When all the Lions were to gather, outside of breaking fast, having lunch or supper; it was something bad. All of them knew it and he barely had to glance at his half-sister, to see her uncomfortably sitting on her chair.
"Where is that little monster anyway?" the Lioness asked, getting tired of waiting. She wished to know what this was all about since they hadn't truly gathered as a family to discuss it in years.
The last time that took place...she did not wish to remember. It was never good and waiting in silence was killing her. She glanced at Trystan, seeing that he was also not on his best behaviour. He was silent but his right hand was in a fist above the table, his eyes focused on the wooden furniture in front of them.
Good, at least Father's Golden Boy is uneasy as well, she thought.
Suddenly, the sound of steps made everyone look at the door and see Tyrion walking their way, carrying a large tome.
"You are late," his father pointed out, clearly displeased with his late arrival.
He was always a punctual man and he did not like being the one to wait for others, especially those who in his eyes were so far beneath him.
Tyrion noticed that his siblings were present too and so was his good-mother. While the latter was not a surprise to be present, the other two Lions were.
"What's are they doing here?" he questioned but he had already started to suspect.
"Our business concerns them, too. It concerns all our family," he said. "Sit."
The Imp paled faintly but did not truly show it. A quick glance at his siblings and he knew, this was not an ordinary meeting. This was a Pack Meeting and nothing good ever truly came from them, at least for the kids.
He ended up sitting across from his father at the other end of the table.
"You'll be pleased to learn that after one conversation with Olenna Tyrell..." he started and opened the huge book he was carrying. "I've saved the crown hundreds of thousands on this wedding."
"Never mind that now. We have something important to discuss," his father told him.
"I'm Master of Coin. Saving money is important," Tyrion argued back and then saw that smug look on Cersei's face. She knew something more than he did. "Stop that. You're making me uncomfortable."
Visenya cleared her throat, loud enough for them to hear. She gave them a look—a motherly warning look—not to continue their stupid sibling argument right now. Thankfully for her, they obeyed and instead focused on their father.
"Your sister and your good-mother have learned that your new friends, the Tyrells, are plotting to marry Sansa Stark to Ser Loras," he informed, making Cersei look at her good-mother since she did not know.
She truly thought she had made a discovery when she found out, a chance to prove to her father that she could still help the family. However, now she understood that her good-mother had been ahead of her all this time.
A small spark of jealousy ignited within her chest, clearly not happy that she had been outsmarted. She glanced at the Dragoness with a small look of betrayal and anger but the older woman did not seem to be affected by it.
Instead, her amber eyes seemed to carry something that Cersei did not recognise at first—guilt. It was so uncommon for the poised and perfect good-mother of hers to truly feel anything, except pride and confidence but apparently; she was capable of feeling more.
However, that did put her into question...why did Visenya feel guilty all of a sudden? Cersei doubted it was the fact that she found the information about the Tyrells first.
"Very well. She's a lovely girl. Missing some of Loras' favourite bits, but I'm sure they'll make do," Tyrion said, attempting to joke only to earn an eye roll from Cersei, a glare from Tywin and a synchronized sigh from Visenya and Trystan.
"Your jokes are not appreciated," the Head of the Lannister family said.
"It wasn't my best, but—"
His father interrupted him. "I bring them into the royal fold and this is how they repay me, by trying to steal the key to the North out from under me," he explained, partially voicing out his thoughts.
Tyrion exchanged a look with his siblings, who seemed to be on the same page as he was.
"Sansa is the key to the North? I seem to remember she has an older brother."
"The Karstarks have marched home," Visenya said, choosing to fill them in on the latest piece of information. "The young wolf has lost half his army. His days are numbered. Theon Greyjoy murdered both his brothers. That makes Sansa Stark the heir to Winterfell" she explained.
Tywin nodded. "This is why I am not about to hand her over to the Tyrells."
Tyrion understood where his parents were leading this conversation but he found himself pointing out a detail they might have chosen to forget.
"The Tyrell army is helping us to win this war. Do you really think it's wise to refuse them?"
"There's nothing to refuse, Tyrion," Visenya answered him. "This is a plot. Plots are not public knowledge. And the Tyrells won't carry this one out until after Joffrey's wedding."
"We need to act first and kill this union in its crib," her husband added, right after her as if they had rehearsed this conversation a dozen times before the family meeting.
"And how do we do that?"
"We find Sansa Stark a different husband."
"Wonderful."
Cersei was amused all of a sudden and gave Tyrion the same look she did before, once again making him uncomfortable.
"Yes, it is," she said, her smile making him more uneasy than before.
Cold sweat went down the short spine of the Lion as he slowly started to understand. He looked from Cersei to Trystan, who had his lips pressed in a thin line and refused to look at his older half-brother in the eyes. Then, he looked at Visenya, whose eyes did not hide her sympathy and also guilt. Last, he looked at his father and then Tyrion had all the pieces together.
"You can't mean it," he commented, looking at them with disbelief.
"I can and I do," was his father's only reply.
Tyrion, though, was not done arguing. "Joffrey has made this poor girl's life miserable since the day he took her father's head. Now she's finally free of him and you give her to me? That's cruel even for you." He then turned to Visenya. "Good-mother, please. You should be against this whole idea. At least spare the girl and marry her to Trystan"
"l cannot" was her reply, stealing a glance at her son who tried to keep his head high but his eyes were always cast down.
"Yes, you can. They are of similar age, they obviously will do just fine and she will even be happier"
"Brother-i' Trystan tried to argue, already knowing the reason but Visenya interrupted him.
"l cannot because Trystan is my first-born and the heir to Casterly Rock. If Sansa remains the last Stark, any child of hers will have a claim both to the North and our home" she explained in a softer tone, at least softer than the one of her husband.
It was clear that she was not happy with that idea but her hands were tied to this decision, as much as everyone else's was.
"The girl will not be happy with me—" Tyrion tried to argue, hoping to save her from a cursed fate bound to him but his father was not going to have it.
"Do you intend on mistreating her?" he asked rhetorically. "The girl's happiness is not my concern, nor should it be yours."
"She's a child!" the dwarf argued, raising his voice. "Come on, Trystan, you have seen her. You can't possibly agree!"
"Oh, leave him out of this. He can't help you in any way," Cersei said, getting tired of all this drama. "She's flowered, I assure you. She and I have discussed it at length."
"There, you see? You will wed her, bed her, and put a child in her. Surely you're capable of that," Tywin said.
"And if I refuse?"
"You wanted to be rewarded for your valour in battle. Sansa Stark is a finer reward than you could ever dare hope for. And it is past time you were wed."
Something dark covered Tyrion's face like a shadow.
"I was wed... Or don't you two remember?" he almost spat, haunting memories coming back and messing with his temper that was far bigger than his height.
There was an uneasy silence as father and son glared at one another, none backing down. Tywin's jaw clenched and so did his fist, his nostrils flaring just a bit as he also wished not to remember that embarrassing day.
A warm hand was placed on his, somehow keeping his tight fist on the table as if in the next seconds it would bang against it. Tywin took a deep breath, controlling his temper to save the table from another blow.
"Only too well," he finally said, disgust and hatred not going unnoticed.
Tyrion looked at his good-mother, who had tried to calm her husband. She had her head half turned, not fully looking at her stepson. The Imp was not impressed; after her play on that day, he expected nothing else from her.
"You should be thanking the gods for this. This is more than you deserve," Cersei said, a smug smirk on her face.
Oh, how much did she enjoy when Tyrion was forced to do something he did not want to, put down by his father and his opinion fully ignored?
His suffering was always something that fixed her mood and she always took extra care to enjoy it when it would take place.
"Tyrion will do as he's bid. As will you," their father said, making her smirk slowly disappear as her attention focused on him.
"What do you mean?" she asked as a part of her was growing with dread as she had an idea of what he truly meant.
"You'll marry Ser Loras," Visenya said, making the Lioness turn her glare towards her.
"I will not," she argued back, almost baring her teeth like a feral animal.
"The boy is the most likely to be the next heir to Highgarden. Tyrion will secure the North, you will secure the Reach," Tywin explained to her simply.
Still, Cersei refused to do it and did not care about the reasons behind it.
"No, I won't do it."
"Yes, you will. You're still fertile. You need to marry again and breed," he said as if talking to some animal and not his only daughter.
"I am Queen Regent, not some broodmare," she spat.
Tywin was getting tired of this stupid game, tired of hearing their stupid arguments as if they ever truly had any say in the matter. After messing up that much, they should be thankful he was that linear with them.
"You're my daughter! You will do as I command," he said, his voice booming across the room and almost made Cersei flinch.
Her hand was shaking, her full body almost as if she was on the verge of frustration and anger; tiptoeing across the line between those two emotions.
"Of course, I am the one to pay for it," she continued bitterly. "You treat me as a fucking broodmare, giving me to any man promising you power while your golden boy over there gets to live his life," she spat, glaring daggers at Trystan.
The youngest of the Lions could have easily glared at her, could have easily argued back for attacking him so bluntly but he didn't. He didn't because he knew that she was right and due to being the heir and also a male, had given him privileges she could never have.
He averted his eyes lower and more to the side, not wishing to see the look of betrayal and anger his half-sister was giving him. He had gotten used to it over the years but he never liked it, because he never deserved it.
Any hatred his siblings ever had for him, any annoyance or jealousy was visible on their faces but he never truly caused it. It was their father and his favouritism for Trystan that caused all of this and yet it was the Half Lion that had to suffer through it.
"Cersei, that is enough," Visenya said, her voice coming with a strictness and a warning that surprised the group.
She had seen how Cersei and Tyrion looked at Trystan, especially the former, and she knew that her son was at odds with his siblings because of Tywin's special treatment. Of course, that special treatment was not the perfect one the other Lions thought it was, but they refused to acknowledge the idea that their half-brother was not as free as they thought he was.
She always hated this division between siblings, being one she had to suffer through with her family. Her brother and sister were the important ones, their child to fulfil that stupid prophecy while she was the spare wheel; the ignored princess that many seemed not to care about.
"Trystan has claims to Casterly Rock and that means whoever he is to marry will have to be of a very close allegiance to us. He will, in the end, have to marry as well when the proper chance for a strong alliance will be presented," she explained, deciding to try and shed some light.
The Half Lion glanced at his mother, slightly thankful for her interference but also bitter. He knew he would eventually have to get married but that did not mean he wanted to or was looking forward to it, especially after spending those few times with Sansa.
"See, Trystan knows his role and doesn't waste my time arguing about it," Tywin commented as the Half Lion lowered his head faintly in submission.
Cersei scoffed. "He simply knows better than to piss you off and ruin his Golden Perfect Boy image."
Trystan, eventually, found the courage to speak up as his green eyes locked with the matching ones of his half-sister.
"Sister, please drop the subject," he asked gently.
She, on the other hand, was too angry at the moment to truly hear him or even care.
Before she could say something more, Tywin chose to put an end to all of this.
"Enough," he commanded. "You will marry Loras Tyrell and put an end to the disgusting rumours about you once and for all."
Cersei looked at him like a wounded child, eyes wide, pleading with him.
"Father, don't make me do it again, please," she begged.
In everyone's eyes, one could see the hope within her that there was even a single drop of fatherly love inside of him but he merely looked at her, unaffected by her pleas or the begging tone of her voice.
She glanced at Visenya, hoping she would interfere but she merely watched.
Like always, the Lioness thought and her anger flared rather quickly.
"Of course, why would you care?" she asked rhetorically, disgust and anger audible in her cracking voice. "All this talk about legacy, forcing me to bear more children like some sort of breeding animal while you choose to remain married to her?" she continued, pointing a finger at Visenya. "It is all your fault. You had to go to that war and ruin your body, making you useless in giving children to him so I have to do it for you," she spat.
Cersei was pissed, ready to jump off her chair and attack the Dragoness. At that moment, she was furious and all she could see was red. She had allowed herself to be married to a man she didn't know or love once already. She had put up with abuse, humiliation and so much more to make her father proud.
She had been promised power once she would become Queen but where was all that power now?
Once again, Cersei had to be given away to bear more children as if she hadn't ruined her body by bringing three into this world. Her father should have been proud, he should have been happy but he wasn't; he never was.
She was angry at him, for treating her that way when she was intelligent and could handle things. She proved to him that she learnt through her spies what the Tyrells were planning and she could do far more but he did not care.
And while Tywin just treated her like trash, his perfect wife just watched and even had the audacity to comment. She was not part of their family, she was not a lion and she had no place in it.
Cersei knew that if Visenya could produce more children; her father would not have sent her to marry again for his stupid, precious legacy. If she had been a proper wife, Cersei wouldn't have to pass through all of that again.
The Lioness was almost red from anger, glaring so hard at her good-mother that it surprised her brothers. No one had seen so much hatred directed at someone other than Tyrion, but now it was all straight towards their mother.
A part of Tyrion understood that anger, understood her point because Visenya's inability to remain pregnant was most likely one reason why their father was even more obsessed with legacy and descendants. But the Imp also knew that it was never the Dragoness' choice in the first place. He had spied on them and he knew that she hated herself for that incident all the same.
It was unfair to truly judge her when she had simply gone to defend her nephew, who she saw as her son. If one should ever be judged and accused it should be the man who smashed her with his war hammer and ruined the inside of her body.
Trystan's jaw clenched and his eyes darkened dangerously upon hearing the blunt accusation towards his mother. He narrowed his eyes and glared at Cersei, mentally challenging her to back down or he would snap; not caring if their parents were forward.
He knew of his mother's condition, of the dangers any pregnancy would bring and what had caused it in the first place. He never accused her, he never blamed her and he refused to let anyone do it instead when she had done everything in her power to make up for it. He understood Cersei was angry but at that moment, he was tired of seeing his siblings mistreating his mother as if she had not tried her hardest to be there for him.
Visenya kept looking at Cersei, her face impassive but one could see the slow gulps of saliva she took. Her body was still, unnaturally stiff and her head was forced to remain high despite the need to just lower it as the insults and accusations were thrown at her.
She did not blame Cersei for hating and blaming her because she had every right to do so. The Dragoness knew her mistake had cost her greatly and she suspected that the extra responsibilities placed on the children were because of it.
Not a day would pass that she did not regret her decision to leave herself open during that battle. Not a day would pass without just staring at the wall and wondering why Tywin had kept her around when she was useless in helping him with his goal and legacy.
No one knew of her thoughts, of her self-conscious thoughts and accusations. She was hard on herself for her mistake, often ashamed when she heard women gossip about birthing only one son and she simply hid it behind her mask; not once letting anyone know how she felt on the subject.
She did not dare to say anything, for she was not sure what she could say on the topic. Her eyes eventually cast downwards without her permission and her head started to lower faintly as guilt started to drown her from within. She placed her other free hand on Trystan's leg to keep him down and ensure he would not snap and attack his sister. She did not like when the siblings fought with one another, making the gap between them even bigger.
Her passive retreat was noted by Cersei, who smirked in pride, taking pleasure in finally being the one in power.
"Oh please, don't play it guilty now. You know of it and you—"
Cersei never managed to finish her sentence and her verbal attack when her father slammed both his hands on the table and rose up so suddenly that his chair fell backwards from the force.
"Not another word," he warned, his voice dangerously low and his eyes narrowed.
He had been glaring at Cersei for her temper, trying to be patient with her but he was slowly getting tired of it. Then, though, his daughter chose to cross the line when she accused Visenya directly.
His glare intensified, his vision flashing red as he watched. That girl had gotten too prideful; too much freedom had given her fake courage and stupidity, making her act that way as if she were a mere untutored child.
He barely glanced at his wife, seeing her pulling her hand away from his slowly as she simply looked back at her stepdaughter. He expected her to do something, to act like she should but the moment he saw the hesitation in her eyes; he knew she wouldn't.
He knew the topic was a taboo for her, one that she always kept saying she was past it but each time something proved her wrong. He was not going to just stand there and watch this stupid scene unfold in front of him.
When Cersei chose to continue, thinking she had won; he snapped. He glared at her, his hand ready to either grab her neck or slap her at least twice for her uncalled behaviour. Instead, he didn't but his message was passed as Cersei started to shrink on her chair and cower faintly under the dangerous look he gave her.
He then directed the same look to all of his children, especially Tyrion; since he had also argued with the decision and tried to play it righteous and noble. That boy took a life with his birth and he would never be the saint he thought he was.
Upon seeing that everyone was looking at him and Cersei had gathered herself, he lifted his body to stand straight.
"My children. You've disgraced the Lannister name for far too long," he said and glanced at his wife. "Come, Visenya. We have work to do and they have thinking to do as well."
He wasted no time walking towards the door, not sparing anyone another glance as he did so. His anger was radiating from him in almost visible waves and none wished to go against them, knowing they would have better chances fighting the Stranger and actually win.
The Dragoness let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, controlling herself.
"Visenya," Tywin's warning tone was heard despite him not being in the room.
It was the tone he used and it meant that he was not going to be happy if he had to use it again. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and barely glanced at the lion cubs before heading for the door.
She kept her head high and her back straight like always, hiding the storm of emotions currently attacking her mind and her heart beneath the usual mask she wore around everyone.