Harrenhal Pt. 2

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[Harrenhal Courtyard]

In a misty morning, a man twitched while he was hung by a noose. Another screamed in pain.

"Go on. Now I want you to tell me what happened. Come on, this way. Come on, speak up. Speak up." One of the torturers said.

Above the courtyard, Lord Tywin Lannister listened and sniffed a wooden toothpick.

"Wolfsbane. A rare substance. This is no common assassin."

"We hanged twenty men last night." Gregor "The Mountain" Clegane told him.

"I don't care if you hanged a hundred. A man tried to kill me. I want his name and I want his head."

Arya set the table, discreetly listening to the conversation.

"We think it was an infiltrator from the Brotherhood Without Banners."

"Pretentious name for a band of outlaws. We can't allow rebels behind our lines to harass us with impunity. We look like fools and they look like heroes. That's how kings fall. I want them dead, every one." He told Clegane. "Killing them isn't the problem. It's finding them. Have you gone soft, Clegane? I always thought you had a talent for violence. Burn the villages, burn the farms. Let them know what it means to choose the wrong side."

The Mountain then left.

"Mmm. Is that mutton?" He asked Arya.

"Yes, my lord."

"Don't like mutton."

"I'll bring something else." She picked it up and prepared to return it and retrieve something else.

"Leave it. Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Of course you are. Eat."

"I'll eat in the kitchen later."

"It's bad manners to refuse a lord's offer. Sit. Eat."

Arya sat the mutton on the table, picking up and fork and knife, before beginning to eat.

"You're small for your age. I suppose you've been underfed your whole life."

"I eat a lot. I just don't grow."

Tywin looked out the window. "Mmm. This will be my last war. Win or lose."

"Have you ever lost before?"

"Do you think I'd be in my position if I had lost a war?" Arya shook her head. "But this is the one I'll be remembered for. The War of the Five Kings, they're calling it. My legacy will be determined in the coming months."

Arya realized that Tywin had let his guard down, and considered her options. But he turned back to her and she startled, suddenly.

"Do you know what legacy means? It's what you pass down to your children and your children's children. It's what remains of you when you're gone. Harren the Black thought this castle would be his legacy. The greatest fortress ever built." Tywin walked over to the fireplace. "The tallest towers, the strongest walls. The Great Hall had thirty-five hearths. Thirty-five. Can you imagine? Look at it now. A blasted ruin. Do you know what happened?"

"Dragons?"

"Yes. Dragons happened." He poured himself some wine. "Harrenhal was built to withstand an attack from the land. A million men could have mqrched on these walls, and a million men would have been repelled. But an attack from the air with dragon fire, Mmm-mmm. Harren and all his sons roasted alive within these walls. Aegon Targaryen changed the rules. That's why every child alive still knows his name."

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