[Chapter Size: 3600 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 298 AC.

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“How is he?” murmured the middle-aged woman, with blonde hair and the green eyes characteristic of the Lannisters.

“Not well. He’s far too angry,” murmured the man, as she sighed.

“I can imagine why… But damn it, Kevan, Cersei could clearly have ambushed the girl, like it was mentioned in those letters we heard about. How can she act like that?!”

“I know that. The problem is, it’s still our family. And our brother is not at all pleased with what happened to his two eldest children in the heart of the Northern realm. That, whether we like it or not, is also an insult against our house.”

“And tell me, Kevan, what do you expect to happen now? That we’ll simply start a war against the North? Against those people beyond the Wall? You know very well what they can do. Do you want to see King’s Landing surrounded by those ships — by those people who used to be a joke and savages — using those giants to launch wildfire against the city walls?!”

“And the Rock doesn’t seem so safe either. If they fire against us here… Even though I’ve heard all my life that this place could protect us even from dragonfire, I have no desire to be bombarded by those explosions!” Genna said in frustration.

Kevan remained silent. He knew very well the danger Arctican technology represented — capable of destroying any other force at sea.

“You may be able to take care of Lannisport, but by then there have already been rumors about what happened in Slaver’s Bay. I heard they bombarded an entire port, destroyed whole walls. Meereen had never been invaded in all its long history, but they did it in just a few minutes. This is not a war we can fight, and you know that very well. Cersei was being foolish. She thinks she’s above everyone, even her father. You saw what she did to Myrcella! How could she do that to that sweet girl, just so her will would be done? How can a mother act like that, Kevan? She’s a monster — a monster that has to be stopped or she will doom the whole family…”

She paused before continuing. “I wanted her to learn from this, to face the consequences of her actions. But I doubt that’s possible. Knowing her, she’ll turn with even more hatred… and it will lead to this family’s destruction. Kevan, can’t you see that? Our brother won’t listen to me, but you have a chance to talk to him…” she murmured, mixing anger, concern, and sorrow.

Kevan sighed. He knew his sister was worried about a war reaching them — and even he could see that — but he couldn’t just go shouting at Tywin Lannister, his older brother.

Tywin was already quite irritated, anyway, with the events in Winterfell. Kevan knew what he was thinking — frustrated, because it wasn’t a delicate situation they could simply solve by threatening or commanding men to destroy the Stark family.

“Actually, the Rock is still protected, as far as I know,” said Kevan firmly. He knew that if Tywin heard her, he would call her a foolish woman who shouldn’t meddle in the family’s main decisions, while she raised an eyebrow with a questioning look.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“I didn’t tell you, but we received a letter from Tyrion a few weeks ago, before the disaster happened. He wrote to our brother saying that they had found… Gerion…” he said, as she stopped raising her eyebrow, now attentive.

“What? He’s alive?” she asked, surprised, placing her hand over her mouth upon hearing it.

“Yes. And he’s living on the other side of the world, believe it or not… in Yi-Ti…” said Kevan, unable to hide a small smile as he spoke of the brother who now lived in the eastern lands. He was happy that, in the end, Gerion was alive.

“That’s… incredible. But what do you mean by a letter from him? Isn’t he coming back here?” she asked, worried. “Our youngest brother, the Laughing Lion, is really alive?!”

“From what he reported in the letter, he’s living with his own family — he has a wife and a son now… in that land. And he won’t return, because he said he owes a debt to the lord of the city of Yi-Ti and is living there…” replied Kevan, while she still stared at him in astonishment.

“That’s fantastic, but also unexpected… To think Gerion was alive all this time… But what do you mean by all this?” she asked, pressing him.

“Well, it seems our brother found the sword he had been searching for,” he said.

“Does that mean Joy…?” she murmured, knowing very well about the agreement between Tywin and her brother Gerion for his daughter to no longer be a bastard.

“Exactly, but not in the way you think,” he replied.

“Wait — are you saying Tyrion was informed by the Arcticans who were in Winterfell? Since if they went to Yi-Ti, it makes sense that Gerion sent a message, which means the sword…” She quickly connected the dots.

“Exactly. It was Arya Stark who spoke with Tyrion. The sword is with the Arcticans. Tyrion said they want to take Joy Hill to Arctic — that was our brother’s wish,” explained Kevan, as she stood there, mouth agape.

“Our brother… he…?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Yes. He wanted to give Joy the Lannister name, obviously. But I don’t think it’s a lie, because Jon Arctic would be interested in bringing a Lannister bastard into his kingdom… There aren’t many things we can say he’s plotting with this… He has Brightroar, and our brother clearly wanted it back in the Lannister arsenal — it would be an honor for the house. But now things have turned into chaos, as you can see,” Kevan said.

She pressed her lips together, tense. It was, in fact, a delicate situation — and all caused by Cersei’s stupidity. Certainly, not that she wished the fate that had befallen her — having her face torn by a bird in retaliation — but the stubborn queen should have left the castle when she had the chance. Her arrogance condemned herself and, as a consequence, dragged the family down with her.

She could see how foolish it all had been — after all, the queen herself had already been threatened by birds when she thought it would be clever to oppose the King of Arctic and plot against him while visiting the Tyrells. Now, Cersei had tried the same against his sister, and she had used some of the magic they’d heard about — with much greater success…

The conversation between the two was interrupted when Lannister guards approached.

“Lord Kevan,” said one of the men in red cloaks, giving a brief bow. “Lord Tywin wishes to see you in his solar.”

Kevan sighed and said goodbye to his sister with a silent look. “I have to go, Genna.”

“I’ll go see Joy, speaking of which…” she said before turning away.

Kevan followed the guards, while she walked toward another part of the castle, descending the stairs until she reached a garden — an open area within the Rock.

There, she saw a young girl tending to flowers, watering them gently, pouring the water slowly over her hands and letting it drip onto the petals with the grace and care of a true lady.

She couldn’t help but smile upon seeing her niece. Joy might have been Gerion’s bastard — the Laughing Lion’s — but she had been raised as a true Lannister. All she lacked was a name — for otherwise, she had everything any other Lannister could wish for.

“Aunt Genna!” the young girl called, interrupting her thoughts.

Genna blinked, returning to reality. She couldn’t help but look at Joy and think of Myrcella — the two looked so much alike.

“Hello, Joy,” she said, approaching. “I see you’ve been taking care of the plants.”

“Yes, aunt. I always do,” replied the young girl, looking at her a bit strangely, since it was something she did every day.

“Forgive me for that, I’m a little distracted…” said Genna, kneeling slightly beside her, watching her with a worried look.

“Is something wrong, aunt?” asked Joy, noticing the woman’s serious expression.

Genna gave a sad smile. “The Lannisters are going through some difficulties, my dear,” she murmured.

Joy shrugged slightly. “I heard some guards talking about Uncle Tywin shouting in anger. It seems something happened in Winterfell after what happened with Prince Joffrey…” she said, while Genna sighed.

“It’s true… But I can’t say much,” replied the woman thoughtfully.

She reflected on how Tywin would handle all of this. Genna knew that facing Arctic was not something they could take lightly. They had already fought against them before — not once, but several times — and had always been defeated. The Royal Fleet, the Lannister Fleet, the Redwyne Fleet, and the royal fleet… all had fallen, one after another. How could they survive a war against a kingdom beyond the Wall?

Cersei had provoked Arctic, and Genna knew it. She also perfectly understood the reason for her brother’s fury — the Lion Lord’s rage. His two eldest children had been attacked like common cattle.

And then, as she thought about it, she froze for a moment, her gaze fixing on Joy.

‘No… no, absolutely not…’ she thought, alarmed.

“What is it, aunt? What are you thinking?” asked Joy, confused by her aunt’s horrified expression.

Genna looked at the young blonde girl, worried. ‘If Tywin tried… to use her. You’re the only link between Arctic and the Lannisters right now.’

She took a deep breath, feeling a chill of dread. But he wouldn’t be that foolish… would he?

Cersei might want to use Joy for retaliation… Genna thought. Perhaps Tywin would see her as a form of protection. But would the Arcticans care that much about her? Joy was just the daughter of a man they had met on their travels — someone who had asked a favor of their king.

But what if Cersei tried something worse? Retaliation?

The doubt ate away at Genna. If Cersei learned about the agreement made years ago between Gerion and the Arcticans, Joy needed to be protected. Genna would have to speak with Tywin — no matter the cost.

She couldn’t allow her niece to be harmed; that woman had already done something horrible to her own daughter out of sheer pride. Joy was just an innocent girl.

With every thought, Genna looked at the young girl before her, and her expression grew more and more anxious. Joy noticed it, not understanding why, as she continued watering the flowers — innocent, unaware of the danger that might already be closing in on her.

Genna came out of her thoughts and gave the girl a smile — the most forced one she could manage.

“Well… why don’t you tell me how your studies are going? And how was your day?” she asked.

“Aunt, tell me what’s going on…” murmured Joy, before Genna could even answer. Seeing that she wouldn’t escape her niece’s sharp, suspicious gaze, the woman simply sighed.

“I just received news from your father,” admitted Genna.

The girl immediately widened her eyes. “He’s alive?!” she asked, nervous, stepping back before rushing forward and grabbing her aunt’s dress. “Tell me! Tell me he’s alive!” she exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes.

“I don’t know all the details, Joy… But yes, he’s alive. He’s living in Yi-Ti,” replied Genna in a gentle tone, almost saying “with another family,” but she held herself back.

“Is he coming back?” asked Joy, unable to contain her hope. She didn’t care if he had failed to find the sword — she only wanted to see him alive.

“I don’t think so, Joy. Not now, I’m not sure… However, he found the sword. The sword he set sail for,” said Genna, proud of her younger brother for achieving what he had sought for so long.

“He did it…” murmured Joy, distractedly loosening her grip on Genna’s dress. Despite the sadness of not being able to see him, she knew what it meant. Her father had promised that one day he would make her a Lannister — and even if she never saw him again, she felt happy that he had fulfilled part of that promise.

She had always dreamed of no longer being looked at sideways by others, of not being left out of the feasts as if she were inferior — even though no one ever said it openly, fearing the Lannisters as the most powerful family in Westeros. Raised under the Lannister roof, Joy had everything: education, comfort, luxury. Everything except a name.

She wished not to be a bastard. She wished to one day have a husband, a home, children. A future. But she knew that, with her status, that would never happen.

“Not necessarily,” said Genna, interrupting her thoughts. “It seems your father has changed plans. The sword is with the Arcticans, and they want to make an exchange. You are to go to the Kingdom of Arctic, beyond the Wall — that was your father’s wish, according to Tyrion’s letter from Winterfell.”

“What?” Joy could hardly believe it.

“Yes. It seems this agreement was made about a week ago. Your uncle Tywin was willing to agree to it, according to what Kevan told me,” explained Genna.

Joy was speechless. “I heard that Myrcella could have married him… but she preferred to sleep with a knight during one of the tournaments,” she murmured, distantly.

The comment made Genna flinch.

Even though Myrcella Baratheon and Jon Arctic had never formalized any betrothal, they had still somehow offended the King of Arctic — even if he had no interest in marrying the princess of the realm.

It could have been a chance to finally set things right between the two crowns. A peace could have been forged.

But to hear that a princess preferred to sleep with some random knight rather than marry the king of one of the most powerful nations in the world — that was something not easily forgotten.

“You know very well what happened, Joy. The one who didn’t want that betrothal to happen was Cersei. She handed her own daughter to that man who ended up executed later. Now Myrcella is half broken, unfit for marriage. Tell me, what did she gain from all this, other than staining her daughter’s name and further increasing the tension between the two crowns?” Genna said to her niece.

Joy, of course, didn’t know what to answer. But she gave in, thinking about a few things.

“I always heard the queen saying that her daughter would not be used by savages and that she would protect her… She used to say that Myrcella would meet a terrible end,” murmured the girl.

“You must have heard about Arya Stark, right? All seven kingdoms talk about her… The one who was supposedly kidnapped. Well, the girl returned, and nothing was as terrible as they had said. In fact, she was doing quite well — well enough to argue and debate with Winterfell’s own maester, to have long conversations about matters of the mind, to fight even royal guards, and to humiliate men. You must have heard about the incident with Joffrey. She now serves as her father’s advisor, helping him with politics and decisions, from what I’ve heard. Lord Stark holds her in high regard… And above all, they say she’s a rose of winter, that her beauty surpasses the queen’s and that she behaves better than her sister as a lady… Tell me, Joy — do you really believe that the place where she learned all that is a den of savages?” asked Genna, with a firm gaze.

“I… I guess not. It doesn’t really make sense,” admitted Joy, still looking somewhat cautiously at her aunt. “So, if I’m sent there… I’ll be fine?”

“Nothing has been decided yet. We’ll have to see what your uncle will negotiate with Jon Arctic. But things are complicated right now — and there are things I won’t tell you,” replied Genna, taking a deep breath. “However, if Jon Arctic promised to offer the same education Arya Stark received, I don’t see how that could be bad.”

Joy nodded, and the subject eventually changed. She began talking about her day, opening up more to her aunt, who listened attentively, trying to hide her worry.

Meanwhile, Kevan watched his brother’s back as he stood before the window, gazing at the sea. The waves crashed against the Rock, echoing through the silent room.

Tywin had been motionless for minutes, and neither of them spoke a word. Kevan simply watched him, feeling the weight of the tension. Since learning of his daughter’s attack, Tywin had been enraged — but when the news about Jaime arrived, the Lion’s roar had echoed through the fortress.

They knew that Jaime had fought for the family’s honor after the Arcticans’ provocations. But the result… had been devastating. The eldest Lannister had lost his sword hand. For a knight, it was terrible — and for a member of the Kingsguard, it was a disgrace worse than death for many.

Tywin slowly turned toward his brother. Kevan swallowed hard — the cold eyes of the Lion Lord burned with silent fury. It was a reminder that things were dangerous and on the verge of spiraling out of control.

“I want you to go to Lannisport and prepare some ships,” said Tywin, his voice low and measured. “You’ll go to Winterfell. I want to know what happened there, and you’ll see it for yourself.”

“What are you going to do, brother?” asked Kevan carefully.

“For now… nothing,” replied Tywin, turning his gaze back to the sea.

But Kevan knew. There was far more behind that silence.

Would he fight against the Starks? Would he send his army to the North or try once again that failed advance — sending sixteen thousand men beyond the Wall without a single one returning alive?

As furious as he was about what his daughter had done, he should have sent an order to all his children — even to Tyrion — to try to gather information about Arctic, to find out what had happened there, when none of the thousands of men sent had ever returned. And they had achieved nothing…

“Have you sent any letter to the North?” asked Kevan, while Tywin looked at him once more.

“Obviously, yes. The Starks need to know what House Lannister thinks of what happened in Winterfell,” said Tywin slowly, as Kevan watched him. As irritating as Kevan found it that Cersei had provoked all this, they were still his family — the honor of the Lannisters. And his brother believed that even more firmly than he did.

“And when are we going to act?” he asked, hesitantly. “It certainly won’t be easy to deal with the Arcticans.”

“Yes, but we also can’t appear weak,” replied Tywin, still standing by the window, staring at his brother. “Besides, the Arcticans have the entire continent to cross before reaching us. They would have to pass through the whole eastern, southern, and half of the western coast; we are one of the last points they would reach. But that doesn’t mean we won’t prepare for them. I expect the Greyjoys to do as they claimed and build a fleet to defend against a possible sea war.”

Tywin was counting on that, but he also couldn’t fully trust the Greyjoys. At the same time that they were a force against Arctic, they were also a blade pressed against their neck — if the Arcticans reached them, the ports would be the first points to be attacked.

“And what will you do about Joy?” asked Kevan, curious about how he would handle the situation.

“She will be kept here. But if the Arcticans want her, we can use her. Moreover, I’ve heard interesting things: if the Arcticans are really going to fight — whatever that is, a war against imagined fantasies — we will take advantage of the moment to retaliate. We will use Joy so that Arctic will be cautious and not attack us directly,” Tywin said, raising an eyebrow.

“And the sword?” he asked, in a brusque tone.

“To hell with the sword too!” Tywin suddenly shouted, full of fury, letting loose this time. Kevan shrugged under his brother’s gaze.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We must act. Our family was attacked, however foolish it was. You must understand: we cannot appear weak before the Seven Kingdoms. The next king of Westeros will be Joffrey, a Lannister. We just need to put someone who will make Arctic hesitate before attacking the Iron Crown. Robert already did too many foolish things by giving the gift again to the north after a silly dispute…” Tywin said, and Kevan understood the bit about the crown, if the Stark girl were queen…

“Do you think you can make that girl marry Joffrey?” Kevan asked, surprised — there had been Lord Stark’s refusal.

“I have been thinking. We need the girl to be where we can use her — if we want to stop the Arctican ships before they advance on Westeros, after we finish this war, if we have Stark blood on the crown, that will make Arctic hesitate.”

“But her father canceled any chance of a betrothal,” Kevan remarked, while Tywin only nodded, without smiling.

“That’s true, but I have a plan,” he replied, in the end.

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