A Beast's Heart (english version)

14.

"Who taught you? Your father?"
I froze from head to foot, unable to move. Hearing Lord Tywin speak of my father aroused my anger, stoked it like tinder the fire before me. And with the anger came back the hatred. He was not to speak of my father! It had been his men who murdered him. And if there was one thing I had learned so far, it was this: they all danced to Lord Tywin's tune.
I stared ironically into the flames before me, struggling to remain calm. Of course I hated him inside and wished he would suddenly drop dead. But to admit this openly would have cost me my life - and now that I had survived for almost eighteen years, my aspiration to give up had been pushed far into the background. So once again I swallowed my anger and answered simply.
"Yes, my lord."
I strongly hoped for his sake that he sensed the coldness in those three words. He should not speak of my father! He should be silent, preferably forever!
The crackling of the fire was the only sound that shattered the silence. That and the roar of the soldiers in the courtyard. I rose slowly, but still paused for a moment with my back to the Lannister. I stared into the fire and suddenly saw my father again.
We were crouched together in the small kitchen, my mother and brother tensely behind us.
"Okay, little one, pay attention.... This is how you have to distribute the logs. At the bottom, the tinder, you know why?"
"So that...not only the top wood burns away?" It had been more question than answer. A smile from my father.
"Very good, clever girl! And never forget the most important thing - fire must be able to breathe for it to grow. Understand?"
I had nodded and then lit my first fire together with father. That had been almost ten years ago.
"Would you have the goodness to at least turn to me when I speak to you?", Lord Tywin jerked me icily back to the present. He sounded irritated.
Quickly, I turned around. His eyes were glinting wickedly and his brow was deeply furrowed.
"What did I just say?" he growled.
"I don't know, my lord. I...wasn't listening."
Tywin seemed on the verge of an outburst. He ground his jaws and suppressed his trembling. I instinctively ducked my head, expecting a roar. To my amazement, however, he spoke completely calmly.
"Such behaviour is not becoming. It is disrespectful and I will not tolerate disrespectful behaviour. Have I made myself clear?"
His eyes seemed to positively spark with anger, he did not blink once. Cold blue fire. I nodded hastily.
"Yes, my lord."
He made a gesture of his head towards the door.
"I don't want to be served by dirt staring people! See that you wash yourself, and quickly! And this time, do it properly!"
His tone became a touch louder and sharper. I quickly ran across the room to the door. I wanted to ask him where exactly I should wash, but the lord had already turned his back on me again and was fiddling with wooden lions and wolves. I didn't understand how he could play with such things in wartime, but I didn't think any more about it. I quickly left the room and stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen.
To this day I don't know how huge the kitchen at Harrenhal was. But I estimated it to be six times as big as our house at that time. The large fire made it pleasantly warm, while many maids scurried about.
I spotted Arya who was handling a basket of potatoes and headed towards her. The maids around me slowed down, turned to look at me. Occasionally I saw their glances when they couldn't turn away fast enough. They were as suspicious of me as I was of them.
I nudged Arya and she turned to me.
"What?" she blubbered angrily, already trying to turn away again.
"Lord Tywin told me to wash up," I muttered meekly.
"And what do I care?"
I didn't like her snide tone. I sighed softly.
"Seven hells, what's your problem?"
"You know perfectly well, LENN!" she retorted bitingly, placing the basket of potatoes forcefully on the floor before wheeling around to me again, "How could you lie to me? Or rather to us! I'm disappointed in you!"
She stood on tiptoe and approached me as she continued talking.
"You're an emotionally cold, disgusting monster, you know that? Doesn't friendship mean anything to you?"
Emotional cold, disgusting monster. No one had ever called me that before. I looked at her steadfastly. I would not dwell on it, at least not yet.
"Do you know where I can find a wash tub around here?"
Before Arya could answer, I heard a voice behind me. It belonged to an old woman with a grey face and lifeless expression.
"I'll show you. Follow me." ...