A Beast's Heart (english version)

30.

Deep night fell over Harrenhal, lit only by the few torches in the courtyard. Just enough to make out a few movements. At least for well-trained eyes.
I stood at my small window and stared out into the shadows, looking for certain movements. But at first I could make out nothing except the trampling of soldiers.
A moment ago I had been sitting with Lord Tywin, practising reading. I could rack my brain for hours about what sense he was making of it, but it just didn't come to me.
"You learn faster than Jaime," he had said, more to himself than to me. But I had heard it anyway and felt that warm sense of pride again. I was learning the letters, I was learning their sounds. I didn't know how long it took someone else to learn to read, nor did I care. Others didn't care about me either, so why should I care about them?
It seemed like a normal evening, the men bawling across the yard, singing and laughing at their banter. Above us was a black blanket, littered with countless glittering little dots. Whenever I saw the stars, I had imagined my family would see me. My brother, our parents - maybe even their parents, whom I had never met. They were all looking down on us, watching me on my odyssey through the Riverlands to here.
"Are you proud of me?", I asked quietly, my breath lost in silver in the cold night air, "Are you proud that I am still alive? Are you proud that I never gave up? Are you proud that I made it my goal to preserve our family for as long as I can?"
I felt my heart contract in pain and I squeezed my eyes shut. I deserved this pain, I had always told myself. This was my punishment for my failure.
I shook my head firmly and looked down into the courtyard again. It was getting quiet, most of the sods were heading for their night's rest. Deep within the shadows of the castle walls, I could make out movement. I leaned forward, then recognised my three closest acquaintances.
Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie. All three of them were moving towards the main gate. As they stood just below it, I saw the smallest of the three bodies stop and turn to me. Arya. How I would have loved to move with them, away from all the red armour. I would never be comfortable here, that was clear. I was grateful, but nothing more. With the three of them, on the other hand, I actually felt the hint of a homey feeling for the first time in a long time. And I felt exactly the trailing cold inside me as the three moved on and disappeared into the shadows behind the main gate. I could have had friends. I could perhaps have had a second family. But I only realised this when it was too late for that. I sighed softly and looked up at the sky.
"The gods have a fucking sense of humour!", I cursed softly and pounded my fist on the rocks of the windowsill. A mother would have strictly forbidden me to swear.
"You mustn't swear, it's not proper for girls to do that!"
"I don't have a mother to reprimand me anymore," I whispered with a bitter growl and slowly turned away from the window, "So what does it matter?"
I lay down and tightened my knees because of the cold. So now I was truly alone in the lion's claws. There was no more Gendry to defend me. There was no more Hot Pie to cheer me up with his smile alone. And there was no more cheeky little Arya either. No, there was only Lord Tywin and his entourage. And not a single one of them could I trust one iota.
A feeling of emptiness spread through my stomach. I pressed myself against the cold wall to my right, imagining my father's great warming body. When I hadn't been able to sleep at night, I had always been allowed to lie with him for a while. Then he had started to tell me about dragons and strapping knights who faced them. He had never mentioned any names. Harren the Black, or Aegon or whatever they were all called. For my father, only one knight ever had a name - Stephan the Strong.
"That was my father's name," he had explained, "And that is my name too."
"Stephan the Great! My father!" I had then shouted loudly, throwing my arms in the air in jubilation.
Now I was left with Lord Tywin, who sometimes talked about dragons, knights and lords. But that was something else entirely, of course. He mostly did this for himself, didn't care about me. He would never stoop to telling a story just for me. Why should he? He was not Stephan the Great and I was not his daughter. He was Lord Tywin Lannister and I was his servant.
I stared at the wall opposite and felt a tear in the corner of my eye for the first time in a long time. A tear that rolled slowly and hotly down my cheek and finally disappeared into the straw mattress beneath me. More followed, and I let them run free. I didn't have to hide them, I didn't have to stay strong. Not this time. No one would see.
And so I lay there, shivering with cold, and just cried. Crying over lost friends and another small part of myself that had passed away with them....