She was looking at him and while her face was impassive, he could see guilt in her amber eyes and perhaps some self-hatred. That is new, he thought and studied her.
He knew that she could be ruthless sometimes but orchestrating such a massacre? Such petty massacre while breaking the Laws of Hospitality? He did not know if he should be impressed or horrified.
"I must admit, Good-Mother. This is low, even for you," he finally said after another moment of silence.
This seemed to make Visenya snap. "Do not accuse me, Tyrion," she said with a warning tone, quickly going on the defensive. "Lord Frey did his own thing and massacred everyone, including the women and the unborn baby. The plan was for Robb Stark to get killed and his generals," she explained.
Tyrion did not know the details like the unborn baby but upon hearing them, he could only scoff at her words. "Of course it was. Because the noble Lady Lannister would never truly order such horrifying acts as killing an unborn baby," he replied with sarcasm, clearly disappointed in her. Yet, he was in the mood to keep dropping salt on her wounds. "My, my, I wonder who could have even given her such inspiration," he commented, looking at his father while passively hinting at the incident with the Martells.
Tywin grew tired of being accused of his actions. "That is enough, Tyrion," he said, a small warning in his tone. His children really were in the mood lately to attack their good-mother from the looks of it. "She did what she had to for her family, which is more than I can say you are currently doing at the moment. I believe you still have some work to do on that score."
He wasted no time walking towards his desk and leaving the papers on it while Visenya followed him but took a turn to refill her goblet. She was already feeling guilty for what happened to the pregnant wife and she did not need Tyrion to accuse her so openly when he could not be at her place.
However, neither she nor Tywin had the energy to truly argue. It was getting late, they had dealt with a lot and they had wasted a lot of their energy to control their tempers when Joffrey insulted them.
"And when do you imagine Sansa will be at her most fertile? Before or after I tell her how we murdered her mother and her brother? Her pregnant sister-in-law that she would never meet?" Tyrion asked as he started to approach, venom dripping from every word that left his lips.
"One way or another, you will get that girl pregnant," his father said as he turned to face him, leaning back on his desk.
His son immediately understood what he was talking about and he felt offended. "I will not rape her." He argued back immediately and looked at Visenya. "How can you even allow him to say that?" he asked her.
She was standing in front of the tray table that had the jug and the goblet. Her goblet was in one hand but she did not drink wine from it. She did not directly look at him and did not say anything, something she often did when she agreed with him or did not bother to argue.
Considering how mighty she acted and how kind-hearted, like taking Sansa to King's Landing and getting to know her when no one else in the family did, he truly started to question if any of that was even true or all just a plan.
Then, something seemed to click in his mind. "Did you allow him to rape you too?" he asked next, starting to suspect that this was perhaps the reason his good-mother was so obedient around him, considering her fearsome reputation of accepting no man.
One might consider such an accusation extreme but Tyrion would not be that surprised if his father had actually acted like that towards her and went as far as to rape her on certain nights until she gave him an heir. Seeing that she had remained silent, he turned to his good father, who was glaring at him to drop the subject. However, his Imp for a son was not going to drop it.
"So, you did rape your own wife. Is this how Trystan came to be?" he accused him openly, not caring if he was going to wake the lion and face its fury.
Visenya tightened her hold on the goblet but kept her head up, clearly hearing the insults as her stepson formed the wrong image in his mind.
"Do not change the subject to our marriage, Tyrion, and do not bluntly accuse me without knowing my opinion," she warned.
However, her refusal to truly deny or accept those accusations had Tyrion put in thought, seeing the relationship and marriage between those two differently now.
As for Visenya, of course she refused to allow Sansa to be raped or forced to sleep with Tyrion but even she did not expect Tywin to say it out loud and suggest it like that. Yet, she knew it was not the time to argue on the topic because no one would try to win and in the end Tywin's decision would not change.
"Your opinion?" he repeated, almost scoffing with mockery. "Then bloody say it instead of just standing there like you usually do. Or are you afraid your Lord Husband will harm you? Is that it? Did he threaten to rape you or something?"
"Shall I explain to you in one easy lesson how the world works?" Tywin asked him, earning the attention of his son back at him and allowing his good wife a much-needed break.
This was why they had argued back then, about her lack of disciplining the children, which was what led them to so openly accuse and disrespect her. Now, they were crossing the line even more and he was getting tired of it. If it was up to him, he would have acted physically to put an end but he could feel her sharp passive gaze. Do not dare to harm them, it said.
She was never fond of physical punishment and she had made it that clear to him, resulting in quite a heated argument. In the end, the Old Lion had given up and tried to be more civil or at least use his words and threats to discipline his children instead.
"Use small words. I'm not as bright as you." Tyrion replied sarcastically.
"The house that puts family first will always defeat the house that puts the whims and wishes of its sons and daughters first. A good man does everything in his power to better his family's position regardless of his own selfish desires." He said and noticed how Tyrion smirked in amusement. "Does that amuse you?"
He tried his best to remain serious but he could not wipe that smirk off his face, not when he suddenly had the chance; a chance he would not let go to waste.
"No, it's a very good lesson." He said and managed to regain control of his self. "Only it's easy for you to preach utter devotion to family when you're making all the decisions." He continued, sending a small glare at his father.
"Easy for me, is it?"
"When have you ever done something that wasn't in your interest but solely for the benefit of the family?" Tyrion asked. 'II do not believe I need to bring up again the topic of our last family meeting about good- mother's inability to breed you more children" he glanced at her, having no true remorse for using her to harm his father.
After hearing about the wedding, she fell even lower in his eyes; despite her excuses. He would have to reconsider just how much of a "saint" his good-mother truly was, because spending so much time in the presence of his father had clearly changed that perception.
Tywin felt his temper flare once again but kept his composure in the end. "The day that you were born," he said, deciding that if Tyrion wanted to try and wound him through his wife, he would not hold back either. "I wanted to carry you into the sea and let the waves wash you away..." he confessed, remembering that day too clearly sometimes. "Instead, I let you live. And I brought you up as my son... because you're a Lannister." The words left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
After that… eventful Small Council meeting, Tyrion had left his parents and made his way directly to his chambers. However, upon entering, he saw Sansa sitting on the ledge by the barred window—mourning, but not alone.
She was in the arms of Trystan, who had been trying his best to comfort her.
Realizing that he could not truly do much—since he was never good at that sort of thing in the first place—Tyrion chose to leave. After all, it was clear that Sansa favored the presence of his brother over his own.
Trystan had heard the news about the death of Robb Stark rather quickly. One could blame it on the fact that he found Pycelle carrying the letter and used his "charms" to learn its contents.
Upon hearing them, it would be a lie to say he did not pale. He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes, remaining still in the hallway.
This is bad… this will ruin her. It will crush whatever hope she had left… and Father will only tighten his grip on both her and Tyrion, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.
He knew Sansa would learn of it sooner or later. If his suspicions were correct, Cersei or Joffrey might even take pleasure in telling her themselves by the next day—unless word reached her through servants first. News like this never stayed hidden for long. Soon, all of Westeros would know.
He was about to continue toward his original destination—the library. But he found himself unable to take even a single step forward.
After a long, quiet moment, he exhaled and turned back.
Then he walked toward the chambers of Sansa and Tyrion.
Chambers of Sansa and Tyrion, Red Keep – King's Landing, Crownlands
He knocked on the door and was greeted by Sansa, who clearly had not expected him. Yet a small smile still formed on her lips upon seeing him.
"Ser Trystan" she said and he tried hard to offer some sort of smile to her but he could not, not with the news he was carrying. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her smile disappearing as worry started to spread within her heart and mind.
"May I come in, Lady Sansa? There is something you need to know" he said, trying not to scare her before he had even begun.
His attempt did not really work to ease the worry she suddenly felt but let him in nonetheless. She then made sure to close the door, not really paying mind that it was just the two of them in the chambers.
Trystan would never harm her, she was certain of that.
The Half-Lion turned to face her, hands behind his back and his gaze could not remain focused on her for long. Something was clearly wrong, something was bothering him and it was unlike him.
In the end, he gathered his courage and told Sansa the news without all the details; not that he truly knew them. Once he was done, he remained silent and watched her.
At first, her face did not change because she was still trying to process everything and come to terms with the fact that all of her family was now dead; except for John if he had not perished at the Wall yet.
Then, her lips parted and her heart started to beat faster; causing a small acute pain to come from her chest. One hand closed into a fist right in front of her chest and she silently walked towards the ledge of the barred widow.
Tears slowly prickled at the edge of her eyes, memories of her family coming involuntarily to her mind and eventually their last words to her before her departure to King's Landing. The memories did not help her remain strong, instead seemed to make it all worse.
She felt all the hope she had that her brother would come for her to disappear, being choked out and killed like the flame on a candle. She felt dizzy and managed to sit by the window seal.
"Lady Sansa...l...l don't know what to say..." she heard Trystan say, his face cast downwards.
He was not really to be blamed because what part did he do in the murder of her family? It was the Freys nonetheless. Even if the Freys were not alone in this and somehow the Lannisters were involved.. she did not want to think that her new 'family' had killed her blood one. She wanted him to go away, to leave but at the same time, she did not find the strength to turn her head to look at him, let alone talk. Her body felt so heavy, a strong head ace forming deep into her head and she swore she felt like fainting.
"...l...l will go...let you mourn in peace..." she heard him say after a minute of silence.
"Don't" she managed to say, her voice sounding weak and to the point of cracking. "Stay" she managed to add next with whatever little energy she could muster.
She barely moved from her position but she could hear his steps as hesitantly he walked towards her. He sat by her side, the small space not allowing them to sit at a proper respectful distance and their knees bumped against one another.
Her hands were resting on her lap, holding her dress into her tight fists as a way to try and compose herself. She felt his calloused, bigger and warmer hands being placed on top of hers in a comforting manner.
She finally managed to look from outside to him, seeing his beautiful green eyes looking at her softy. They were filled with compassion and care, so pure and true that Sansa did not remember when it was the last time she had seen them ever since she arrived in King's Landing.
Her walls started to crack and she leaned on him, wrapped her arms around him and wished to find some comfort. She buried her face in his chest and closed her eyes, silent sobs leaving her mouth as her shoulders shook faintly with each one of them.
She felt his arms wrapping around her and pulling her close, offering her the comfort she needed while his chin rested gently on top of her head. He rubbed her back in a soothing manner and did not seem to mind as her tears stained his jacket.
He remained silent, offering whatever he could without overdoing it. She kept silently crying, mourning her mother and brother, whom she would not be able to see again. She did not care if this was perhaps too sudden or that she was a married woman alone with a knight in her chambers.
Right now, she just wanted to forget and stop pretending that she was okay. Thankfully for her, Trystan seemed to be the only one along with his Mother who did not seem to mind and allowed her to express herself.
The news that was supposed to be great for the family of Lions did not truly have the impact one would expect.
Only Cersei seemed to be the one in the best mood, happy to know that they had won and that pestering boy Robb was no longer an obstacle.
They had exacted their revenge after taking Jaime from her for two years and in the best way possible.
Unlike her, though, everyone else in the Lion Family did not take the news in the best way because of their aftermath.
Trystan just silently comforted Sansa, feeling guilty and self-loathing for being unable to truly help her. He suspected that his father might have a hand in this and he felt frustrated because Sansa had been through enough already.
Tyrion had found Bronn in his chambers, entered uninvited and filled a goblet with wine. He then proceeded to drink, not really answering any of the man's questions at the moment. He had to think of so many things at the moment.
For starters, he had to think of Trystan's relationship with Sansa, which seemed to be far more personal than he expected. Then, it was the fact that Sansa was married to him, now forced more than ever to produce a son and eventually would learn that the family she is married to; killed her last family members.
Of course, he could not forget the fact that his good-mother who was supposed to balance the immorality of his father; planned and orchestrated the whole thing with the Wedding. He knew that she could be dangerous and fall low to protect her loved ones but this felt... a new level for her.
He could also not forget what his father told him. Except for the fact that he practically ordered him to rape Sansa, a 14-year-old girl, he also admitted that he had thought of drowning him when he was an infant.
Tywin was no better. He had chosen to do some more work instead of eating or returning to his chambers, needing something to occupy his mind. Bringing up the day of Joanna's death was always a taboo for him and it was a frustrating thing having to verbally admit that he let Tyrion live and raise him as his own.
Visenya, perhaps, had taken the heaviest hit among all of them.
Considering it was her plan that killed the innocent ones, the accusations of Tyrion and the insults from Joffrey... it was all a well-packed punch that was delivered below the belt; causing her a mental pain similar to the physical she felt when Robert's War Hammer had smacked against her lower abdomen.
She had chosen to take a very hot bath to try and ease the tension gathering in her body. The water was practically steaming and her handmaid had tried to warn her but she did not care at that moment.
She stepped into the welcoming waters that felt hot but not to the point of harming. Instead, they felt comforting and soothing as they softened her skin. She dismissed the girl right after, wishing to be alone with her thoughts.
Sinking deeper into the tub, she submerged her body up to her chin and let out a heavy sigh. As she stared at the foggy waters covering her naked body, she barely caught sight of the reflection of her eyes before thinking back to the cursed day she made that plan.
She was sitting across from Tywin in his study, discussing a letter sent to them by Roose Bolton. He had lost a lot of men when he met them in open combat by the Green Fork half a year ago but ironically, he had also lost a lot of his competitors.
It was not unknown that Roose Bolton was an ambitious man, who wanted more from the North, more for his house and of course, more for himself. It was evident by the letter he sent them, offering to work together with them after Robb broke his engagement to the Freys to marry that field medic.
Eventually, he sent another letter and informed them of the new wedding planned at the Twins; the wedding of Robb's uncle to ensure the loyalty and alliance of the Freys. This proved a problem because if this wedding were to take place, Robb would have a significant place on the Riverlands that he could use to his advantage.
"Wait... I think I have an idea," Visenya said, after being quiet and thinking for almost 5 minutes.
Tywin glanced at her from the letters in front of him. "Do tell."
"Genna has married Emmon Frey, which means his loyalty should be with us. What if we use this to... remind him that Robb Stark is our enemy... perhaps allow someone for him to play the Rains of Castamere as well."
A twinkle of amusement was evident in his green eyes, a smirk joining them as it spread across his lips. "Someone to play the Rains of Castamere, huh?" he repeated, a subtle way of praising her cunning use of her mind. "This could work, but this is an opportunity for us as well. The Starks think Lord Frey will join them through this wedding. We can use that trust against them to lead him into an eventful trap and use Lord Frey as our mole. After all, he does love spreading gossip and secrets for the right offer of power and gold."
This made Visenya think, fingers drumming against the wooden surface of the desk as she leaned her head on her other hand that was resting on the chair arm. "Hmm," she exclaimed. "Why plan a trap in the near future when we can plan one now?" she asked, looking from the papers on the desk back at him.
"When do you suggest?" he asked, curious to hear what kind of devious plan she had come up with.
"The wedding," she answered, making him lean slightly forward as he was now fully interested in this idea. "They gather at the Twins for the wedding—Robb Stark and most of his men, if not all. Allow them to have the wedding feast, lock the doors discreetly, and then take down Robb when he does not expect it. His men and other lords can be taken prisoners, to ensure other houses of the Riverlands will bend the knee, and the rest of the Northern forces will be leaderless."
Tywin was not often impressed, but if there was someone that had managed to succeed on that a few times, it was her. Her ideas or plans or even her achievements often drew a positive reaction from him and made him very pleased with them—proud even to have her as his wife.
"You do realize this will go against the Guest Rights, do you?" he asked her, one finger rubbing his upper lip while he was processing her plan.
"If we 'allegedly' offer our protection to Lord Frey, he will not care about them. He will be the one eventually breaking the Guest Rights, and it will be his House that other Lords will look down on. They cannot simply direct it at us; there will be no evidence to do so."
"Hmm," he exclaimed. "With the Starks gone and until Tyrion impregnates his wife, the North will be unattended. We need to appoint a Warden for now."
"Roose Bolton?" she suggested. "In his last letter, he did make it clear that he tries to get in our good graces and expects a reward for the information he gives us. If he wants the North so badly, he can have it for now. It will save us the trouble of finding someone non-northerner to take his place, which will eventually lead to a rebellion."
His smirk remained. "And then you have seconds to think why I did not remarry," he said, bringing up their discussion a few days ago. "I would like to see anyone else coming up with such a plan, except for me."
She smiled in gratitude, eyes softening as she took the goblet in her hand. I had a good role model, I cannot deny it, she commented, passing him the praises and earning a small chuckle of amusement from him as he grabbed his goblet and lifted it to a toast.
Visenya would have never expected that things would turn that way.
Back then, she only wanted Robb Stark dead to end the war. She knew they had to take care of him or else this would never end.
Her guilt, perhaps, would not be that great for Catelyn Stark if one would consider she had imprisoned Tyrion and almost threw him from the Moon Door. Yet that girl, Talisha, was innocent.
She was carrying a baby that also got killed, inside the belly of its own mother, and it was innocent. This did not help that she had started to truly care for Sansa, especially after getting to know her and seeing how broken she was due to Joffrey and Cersei.
Now, she had executed her whole family. The young girl would never get to see her mother again at least, even if Catelyn Stark remained a prisoner of theirs. She would have to live her life knowing she was the last of her family and Visenya knew the burden of that title too well.
She let out a groan of frustration and hung her head by the edge of the tub. When did the game become so complicated? she mentally asked, remembering when it was far easier to do things and there was no guilt involved or children for that matter.
A sigh escaped her pink lips as she shifted her body in the tub. The water was still warm and she moved her body until her hair started to be submerged into the water. She leaned further back and did not hesitate to place her whole head beneath the surface of the waters, eyes closed and breath held.
She did not re-emerge immediately but rather chose to stay a few seconds under. She had planned only for a few seconds but as the water muffled any sound, she felt something was wrong as some sort of vision flashed into her mind.
She was somewhere far away, perhaps even beyond the Wall, she was not sure. There were bare trees and snow covering everything, the wind blowing loudly. Far up ahead, she could see the opening of a cave as huge roots seemed to lead in there.
She was about to walk towards it when the vision changed again and this time she was inside the cave, only that it was huge. The roots of trees were thick and tangling, spreading across the cavern walls and reaching all across Westeros if she could guess right.
The sound of a crow made her turn quickly and she saw a skinny man wrapped by the roots. His hair was white like hers but his eyes seemed to be a bloody red. His face was hollow and aged and he had a wine stain birthmark on his cheek.
He seemed weak and his eyes distant, looking at her but also through her as if she was some sort of transparent ghost.
"It is coming," he said in a low voice and she barely heard him. "The Great Winter is coming down from the far North. It will cover the world in darkness; marking the end of the era of men. Only a Targaryen on the Iron Throne can unite the realm against this threat."
Visenya was confused, hearing those words like some sort of forgotten prophecy. She was about to open her mouth to speak when the man looked directly at her with his red hollow eyes.
"You must prepare. You must awaken it. He will come for you. He will come for all of us."
And just like that, her vision twisted and turned black.
She broke the surface of the water gasping for air, water dripping down from her hair and her face as she brought her back forward and kept her head as far away as she could from the water.
Her breathing was uneven and she hugged her knees in an attempt to calm herself, her mind trying to process what she just saw. It could not be a prophetic dream, it felt too real and she never had any interactions with them; she just watched. Plus, she was awake; there was no way she fell asleep in the tub.
But if it was not a dream, then what was it? And why?
She tried to think of the features of that man, who looked like a Targaryen but also didn't because his eyes were different. Yet that birthmark... Only one truly carried it... Brynden Rivers, she thought. That is impossible. He is dead for over 100 years if not more. He shouldn't... he can't be alive.
She remained where she was until the water turned cold, her mind trying to process everything and make sense of what she had seen.
Little did she know that those words would come back to haunt her and eventually prove themselves in a way that she would never expect.