Chapter 5: The Lion's Jaws

Catelyn Stark had always known Tywin Lannister to be a cruel man, but to dangle her daughter in front of her, only to tear her away… it made her furious beyond belief. It was agony to watch Arya from across the table. Her little girl, trapped in a Lannister's grip. How frightened she must be.

Tywin Lannister would kill her without hesitation if it suited him. Which was why Catelyn could not believe Robb was even considering such an option.

"We cannot leave Sansa and Arya to his mercy," Catelyn said. "He will kill Arya and there is nothing we can do."

"Aye. And whose fault is that?" Robb snapped. "If we had Jaime Lannister still, it would all be a bluff. But we don't. I have nothing to use against him. I don't even have those Lannister boys. Not that he would trade for them."

"I was thinking of the girls," Catelyn murmured.

"You were thinking too hard of them. We could have gotten them back if we just kept winning," Robb said. "At best, we will get Sansa back. But no matter what we choose Arya suffers. She either dies or she becomes a damned hostage."

"I know that, Robb," Catelyn said. "I heard his terms. You don't think I know what I've done?" She shook her head. "I was desperate. Bran and Rickon held hostage by Theon and Sansa and Arya with the Lannisters. I needed to try."

"It didn't do much good, did it?" Robb asked.

"It did something," Catelyn said. "Tywin Lannister offered us peace. He would not have done so if I hadn't given him Jaime. And if he spoke truly, he had some dark plot to kill you and break the northern army. I don't doubt him. He is not a man to bluff."

"So you think I should be grateful that he offered peace?" Robb asked.

"Yes. It is something he rarely does," Catelyn said. "It's only your name that bought you this talk. He recognizes that it is easier to keep a Stark in Winterfell, especially with winter on its way."

"Aye. And keep a Stark in his halls to kill if we step out of line," Robb said. "What happens if this is a trap?"

"Perhaps it is," Catelyn said. "Perhaps it's not. Are you willing to risk your sister's life for it?"

Robb looked down at his feet. "The men of the north put their faith in me. Their trust in me."

"And if they are truly loyal, they will follow you in retreat," Catelyn said. "Tell them that you must crush the Greyjoys and save Bran and Rickon. Tell them it's is more important to protect home. Tell them that rebellion is unwise when winter is coming and crops must be gathered." She placed a hand on his cheek. "Look to the future. Your father is dead. I do not want to see any of my children join him."

Robb looked down at her with the eyes of a boy who had recently realized that his mother was not perfect, nor always right. He had lost his faith and her and she knew she would not get that back. He truly had grown up. It was a painful thing for Catelyn to see, yet she was so proud of how far he had come.

"You promised me that we would kill them all one day," he said at last.

"One day, we will," Catelyn vowed. "But there is wisdom in patience, Robb. And revenge will never be worth more than family. You know your father would say the same."

"Father is not here… because of Joffrey," Robb said. "What would he say if I bent the knee to him?"

"What would he say if you allowed your sister to die?" Catelyn asked.

Robb fell silent. To that, he did not seem to have an answer.

The camp was quiet that night, and tense beyond belief. Only Jaime's father seemed calm as he sat at his desk, writing letters. It seemed Tywin often wrote letters these days, often with the purpose of starting and ending wars. He had such a reach over the kingdom that a single raven from him could alter the course of the country.

Jaime could never imagine having that sort of power. His father wanted him to become 'the man he was born to be'. But if that meant becoming like Tywin, he wasn't sure he could manage it. His father had ten times his ambition and ten times his ruthlessness. Jaime had no desire for power or Casterly Rock. But even though he had donned a white cloak, his father still considered him his heir.

"You're calm tonight," Jaime said. "You don't seem worried about their decision."

"It doesn't matter either way," Tywin said. "I will be able to end this war whether they accept my terms or not. One road is slightly cleaner, but I have a plan for both scenarios."

"Naturally," Jaime said. "But I'm sure you have a preference."

Tywin looked up at him. "Why would I have a preference?"

His father's expression was stony and unreadable-to everyone except perhaps his children. Jaime had studied his father for a long time, and he knew the nearly imperceptible difference in his moods.

Jaime shrugged. "Why take Arya as a ward rather than Sansa?"

"What do you mean?" Tywin asked.

"If Robb Stark accepts peace. Why take Arya as a ward? Sansa would technically be more valuable. She's the eldest Stark daughter. And she's already in King's Landing. From what I've seen, she seems much more docile than her younger sister. So why not keep her?"

"I offered Sansa back to the Starks because she is more valuable. It makes them more likely to accept the offer," Tywin said.

"So you do have a preference," Jaime said.

Tywin set down his pen, leaning back in his chair. "What is the purpose of these questions, Jaime?"

"Maybe I'm just trying to figure out how your mind works. You've always encouraged me to follow in your footsteps," Jaime said.

"Don't play games with me," Tywin said. "Say what you mean or leave me be."

Jaime held his gaze. "You like that girl. Arya Stark. You don't want to kill her."

He expected his father to deny it. But then, Tywin was always a brutally honest sort of person, even with himself. "No. I don't want to kill her," he said. "But I will. I will do what needs to be done, whatever the Stark's decide. What I think of the girl doesn't matter."

Jaime exhaled. His father really never let weakness show. He wondered if Lord Tywin Lannister still experienced emotion like everyone else or if his heart had turned into an empty husk from years without use.

"If you truly want to know how my mind works, then know this," Tywin said. "It's never personal feelings or glory or goals that matter. It's about the family. It's about the Lannister name. If you want to truly serve the family, you must be willing to put aside every one of your selfish emotions."

Jaime shook his head, a mirthless smile on his face. "That's a nice idea father. You should tell that to Tyrion."

Tywin's gaze hardened, and in an instant, Jaime knew he had over stepped. "Get out. Now."

Jaime did not protest. He wanted to escape the conversation anyway.

It was true; his father wanted nothing more than to serve the family. Personal emotions didn't matter, he said. Personal wishes and grudges should be cast away. But those words didn't seem to matter when it came to his blind hatred of Tyrion. Tyrion would always be the breaking point for Lord Tywin Lannister's rationality.

At least, Tywin had a breaking point. That meant he was as human as everyone else.

Arya felt smaller than usual sitting on the floor of her small tent. It was late, but she knew she would not sleep. She would spend the whole night waiting for the dawn… waiting for her brother's decision.

She wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to die. How much would it hurt and where would she go afterwards? Would the god of death be a man, or a shadow?

There is only one thing we say to the god of death. Not today.

"Not today," she muttered, tucking her knees into her chest. "Not today."

The tent flap brushed back and she tensed, wondering if Tywin had come for her again. Perhaps, Robb had made his decision. Perhaps this was her last night.

Instead, Jaime Lannister entered the tent.

She started to rise but he held out a hand. "Don't get up."

Arya swallowed hard, looking away. "Does your father need something, ser?"

"No," Jaime said.

Arya looked up at him suspiciously. "Do you?"

"Not particularly," Jaime said. "But I find myself unable to sleep tonight. I guessed you might be awake as well."

"Of course I'm awake," Arya said indignantly. "Why would I sleep if I could die tomorrow?"

"Hence my guess," Jaime said. "You shouldn't worry too much, my lady. I doubt your brother will sacrifice you for his war. He seems like a good lad."

"Robb is worth ten of any of you," Arya said firmly. Fear of death made her bolder. Why should she fear speaking her mind when her throat could be cut tomorrow?

"Depends on what you count as worth. But yes, probably," Jaime tilted his head to the side. "Do you speak so bluntly with my father?"

"Yes. When I'm feeling brave," Arya said.

Jaime laughed once, sitting down on the stool in front of her. "I would call that brave or stupid. Most people wouldn't dare say a single word against him. It's a wonder he likes you so much."

Arya's brow furrowed. "He doesn't like me. I'm his hostage."

"His hostage whom he keeps as a cup bearer," Jaime said. "If he didn't like you, he would have sent you off to King's Landing long ago. My father doesn't keep company with people he doesn't like."

Arya did not reply.

"I know it's hard to tell," Jaime said. "I'm not sure he remembers how to smile. And laughing… that's even rarer. It always sounds so forced." He leaned forward. "But I'm his son, so I can tell. He only lets you get away with that mouth of yours because he likes you."

"I don't like him," Arya muttered.

"Of course you don't," Jaime said. "Most people don't like my father. Half the time his children don't even like him. But it will be in your favor if you're to become a Lannister ward."

A Lannister ward. The very words made Arya shiver. She only wanted to go home-back to Winterfell. Instead she would return to King's Landing, to the place where her father lost his head.

"At least, Sansa will get to leave," Arya murmured. "She must hate it there. I always felt awful… for leaving her behind."

"Your sister seems to be a more delicate person than you," Jaime said. "And King's Landing is not gentle with delicate people. You'll fair better than her, I'm sure."

"Will I? I'm a Stark," Arya murmured. Starks, historically, did not do well in King's Landing. Her grandfather, uncle, father… they had all died there. She always looked the most like her father of all of his children. She wouldn't last there.

"Yes, but you're smart," Jaime said. "My father would not have taken you as a cup bearer if you weren't. I'm sure you'll find away."

Arya rested her chin on her knees. "Why did you come here, ser? To try to make me feel better?"

"No," Jaime said. "Curiosity I suppose. I barely noticed you when I last went to Winterfell. But if you return to King's Landing, we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other."

Arya nodded once. It was interesting… she used to quite look up to Jaime Lannister when she first read about him. She looked up to all the great knights of Westeros. Barristan Selmy, the Sword of the Morning. Jaime Lannister was supposed to be nearly as skilled as them. But her father had nothing but contempt for the Kingslayer. He said he was a man without honor for killing King Aerys. Her father was usually right about people.

Whether he was without honor or not, he did not seem cruel. At least, not in this moment.

The tent flap opened again and a messenger slipped his head inside. "Ser Jaime. Your father sent me to bring the girl."

"For what?" Jaime asked.

"Robb Stark has made his decision."

Arya swallowed hard. It was not yet dawn, but it was time to face her fate all the same.