Chapter 2: A Bold Pawn

The girl changed everything about this war, though she did not even know it yet. Suddenly, Tywin had a second bargaining chip-one that no one else knew about. He could bring her out at any time, whenever it most suited his needs.

She was a pawn on his board now, and he knew she must hate him for it. She would hate him more before this war ended, especially if he used her against her family.

There was still the matter of Jaime of course. He could not use the Stark daughters to sue for peace when the Starks had Jaime. If they had no hostage, it would be a different story. He would hold all the cards, and though Robb Stark talked a strong game, he was loyal to his family.

He would not choose war over the lives of his sisters. His mother would not either.

In the meantime, Tywin found Arya Stark far more tolerable company as his cup bearer than any of his generals. They were all worthless, it seemed, when they lost even a few hours of sleep. No one had any ideas on how to fight the young wolf or Stannis Baratheon, who was planning attack on King's Landing very soon.

He found himself staring furiously at a map long after his general's had left. Only Arya remained, collecting empty cups of wine.

"When will Stannis attack king's Landing?" she asked. She was bolder with questions now that he knew her name. She knew that he could not harm her yet.

"Soon," Tywin said. "But if we leave to deal with him, we give your brother too much ground."

Arya shrugged. "Well, you can't deal with my brother before Stannis."

Tywin tilted his head to the side. It seemed the girl wanted to try her hand at strategy, and after the disastrous meeting with his generals, he was inclined to hear anything. "And why is that?"

"I read in a book once…" Arya shifted, almost nervously, as if she had not expected him to actually ask. "When fighting a war on multiple fronts… you have to consider what those fronts want. That determines the immediate problem."

"I've read the same," Tywin said. "So tell me: What does Stannis want and what does Robb want?"

Let's see how she did when tested.

"Stannis wants the iron throne," Arya said. "Robb wants the north. Stannis is trying to take what is yours. Robb isn't." She thought for a moment. "Well he is if you considered the north yours. It's just not as important as the crownlands."

"Correct," Tywin said. "If your brother takes back the ground we currently have, it is a loss… but not as much as the loss of King's Landing."

"Then doesn't the answer seem obvious," Arya said.

Tywin almost laughed. She really was too bold for her own good. She might already be dead if he had sent her to King's Landing. "If all strategy was that obvious, the war would be an easier game," Tywin said. "First, you assume that Stannis will succeed in his attack. It is possible that he will fail, and if he does, pulling our armies will be for nothing. We have to judge if it's worth the risk. Beyond that, Robb Stark may only want the North but he's willing to attack other places to get it. He is coming for what belongs to us in order to see his demands met. And he has my son, which means he can do so without worry of me killing his sisters. He grows braver with every victory, and if we retreat, he will become braver. He might even be emboldened to march on Casterly Rock."

Arya fell silent. She had clearly not thought of any of this.

"You're well read," Tywin said. "But reading alone never got a man through a battle. You need experience to really know how a war is fought."

"My brother doesn't have experience." She looked up at him. There was a challenge in her eyes. The damn girl really was fearless.

Tywin's eyes narrowed. "There's that tongue of yours again. Be careful. I may not be Joffrey… but I meant when I said that you would regret defying me. Do not forget that. Those who have don't last long."

Arya dropped his gaze and went back to cleaning up the table. There was still a flash of fear in her. If she got much braver, he might have to put an end to that.

It would be a shame. Her boldness amused him.

Tywin kept Arya close, and she had few opportunities to even think about escape. He slept very rarely, when he did, he assigned trusted guards to watch her. She was never alone.

It was suffocating, but better than King's Landing. No one looked at her as a lady. They mostly ignored her. Only Tywin knew her true identity. She wondered his purpose for keeping such a secret. Perhaps he worried that Stark spies would find out about her and alert Robb before he was ready.

He did not seem worried about her listening into any of their strategies, and he let her speak on the meetings when his generals had left. It seemed he was always testing her.

She did not mind being tested. Her obsession with history and warfare was always dismissed as unladylike by Septa Mordane. Her father would discuss it with her, but even he was reluctant to let her dwell on dreams of being a warrior. Tywin let her speak about her interests quite openly. She wasn't used to that.

"It seems you studied your history far more than your sewing," Tywin commented one late evening.

"I was always terrible at sewing," Arya said. "Septa Mordane said I had no eye for detail."

"That doesn't seem to be true," Tywin said. "You remember all of the names of the Targaryens and the battles and their dragons. You even know the names of their swords. Even I cannot boast that."

"It was the wrong kind of detail for me to know," Arya said. "But yes, I remembered. I always wanted a dragon and a named sword."

"Naturally, you got neither," Tywin said.

"That's not true," Arya said. "I had a sword with a name. My brother gave it to me. I called it needle."

Tywin laughed once. His laughs always sounded harsh and joyless, like he hadn't practiced them enough. "I thought you weren't good at sewing."

Arya almost smiled in return. "I was getting good with that needle. I had a teacher. Father called him a dancing master so that no one would know."

"Did he?" Tywin said. "Where is this needle of yours now?"

"One of your men took it from me," Arya said. "Polliver, I think his name was. I don't know if he still has it. It's too small for him anyway."

"True, but he could hardly let a prisoner keep it," Tywin said.

Arya shrugged and looked away. She wanted needle back very much. It was the only thing she had of Jon. It was the only thing she had of any of her family, besides memories.

"In any case, it would not do to give you a sword now," Tywin said.

"Because I'm a girl?" Arya muttered.

"No. Because I don't trust you with one, Lady Arya. You may be a little wolf, but you are a wolf all the same."

In spite of herself, Arya grinned. She liked to be thought of as a wolf. People used to call her wild as an insult but she always saw it as a compliment. Strong women were often wild. So were dragons.

More than once, Arya found herself fighting smiles in Tywin's presence. The head of House Lannister never smiled, but he did seem consistently amused with her. Arya was not sure if that was a good thing or not.

He had his boundaries, of course. She dared not talk about his son, still imprisoned in Robb's camp. She dared not talk of Robb's victories. Most of all, she dared not try to escape. She had seen his kindness for people who broke their word. He hung the lucky ones. Others did not end so well.

In any case, Tywin was not her biggest problem. She worried far more about the guards.

He did not tell the guards who she was-only that she was important and needed to be carefully guarded. She could not be allowed to escape.

But while soldiers could be trusted to keep her from escaping, they could not be trusted in some other matters. Arya noticed them leering at her. They had begun ever since they found out she was a girl. More than one asked if she was a woman grown. She did not reply.

A man named Ryder was the very worst of them. He asked her all sorts of queries about who she was, but also far more invasive questions. She had never had anyone talk to her in such a way before, because she was Arya Stark and her father would have killed the man who did it. But her identity was still a secret to others. To the guards she could be anyone.

She did not sleep when he was near in case she had to claw his eyes out. She dug her nails into her palms and forced herself to stay awake, glaring at him in silence.

She began to drift during meetings as he became one of her more constant guards. Occasionally when someone asked for wine, they had to speak twice. Her mind began to blur from exhaustion.

"You're not sleeping, are you?" Tywin asked.

"I sleep when I can," Arya said.

"And is there a reason you cannot?" Tywin asked.

Arya pressed her fist against the side of her leg as she lied. "No. No reason, my lord."

She would not sink to asking him for help. She was a Stark and his prisoner. The wolf should not ask for help from the lion who caught her.

That night, she sat in the corner of her small tent as always, watching Ryder. He smiled back at her as her eyelids drooped. "Tired, girl? You haven't been sleeping well."

"I'm not," Arya muttered.

"You can sleep if you want," Ryder smirked. "I won't hurt you."

She dug her nails into her skin so hard they bled. "I'm not…" her eyelids were so heavy. "I'm not…"

She woke after a few minutes of sleep, which enough for Ryder to drag her from her tent an off into the shadows of the brush. She recognized it at once and lashed out, raking her nails down his face, leaving bloody lines behind. He screamed and threw her to the ground, drawing a knife. She tried to scramble back but he pinned her down, pressing his blade against her throat.

"You're not going to make a sound you little shit. You're going to be quiet or I'll tell Lord Tywin you tried to escape."

"And I'll tell him you were lying," Arya spat.

"Why would he believe you?" Ryder asked. He pressed his blade threateningly to her throat. "I don't know who you are, but you're a prisoner of some kind. What reason would he have to believe you?"

Arya gritted her teeth together, biting back her name as it rose to her lips. It wouldn't matter if she said it. He wouldn't believe her.

"What's all this?" someone asked from nearby.

Arya looked to the side to see two soldiers on patrol. One of them… One of them was Polliver. Arya could see her sword shining at his hip. He had kept it.

Ryder leapt off of her. "Just having a little fun."

"We are not," Arya snapped. "I'm Lord Tywin's prisoner. If you harm me, you'll be punished."

"Will we?" Polliver tilted his head to the side. Malice glittered in his eyes. "But I saw you escaping. We decided to teach you a lesson."

Arya hissed as he walked over to her. When he leaned down to touch her face she turned and bit down, hard on his hand. He screamed and drew back and as he did she seized her sword from his scabbard.

Needle felt familiar in her hand. Though they had parted long ago, she remembered her grip, and she remembered her teacher's words. Every one of them.

What do we say to the god of death?

Not today.

The other guard came at her from behind to grab her. She spun the sword and jammed it backward on instinct. The point sunk through his gut with little resistance.

As the nameless guard fell back, Ryder lunged forward slashing at her with his knife. The blade cut a streak across her right cheek and she backed away-right into Polliver. He turned her and punched her hard in the gut, sending her to her knees. Arya almost blacked out.

No. Stay awake. Stay awake.

She gripped her sword with all her might.

"Little bitch," Ryder muttered. "Hold her down for me."

"Stop," a voice cut through the night, like thunder from a distant, raging storm. Arya recognized the anger in Tywin's voice and she wondered if it was at her. Perhaps he thought she had tried to escape.

"My lord," both of the soldiers stood at attention.

"Would you like to explain what you're doing?" Tywin asked.

"She was trying to escape," Ryder said. "We were teaching her a lesson. You said that escape was unacceptable."

"I said that if she escaped, you should bring her straight to me." Tywin looked down at Arya, an unreadable coldness in his gaze.

She shook her head unable to speak from the blow to the stomach. I didn't, she thought. I did not try to escape.

Tywin held out a hand. "Give me that sword, girl."

Arya handed over needle, slowly. She wondered for a moment if he might punish her with it. But then he turned and stuck the point through Ryder's throat. Arya's eyes widened as he coughed up blood, his eyes rolling back in his head. Tywin drew the blade back and he fell to his knees, gasping for breath that would not come.

Polliver's eyes widened and he took a step back as Tywin faced him. "The girl is valuable to me unharmed. Therefore, anyone who harms her will receive the same treatment. Consider this a rare warning from me."

"Yes, my lord," Polliver muttered.

"I'll take that sheath at your hip," Tywin said. "You won't need this sword. It's a child's toy anyway."

Polliver handed it over without question. Then he hurried away as fast as he could.

Tywin observed the blade for a moment longer before returned it to his sheath. "You were right to name this sword needle. It's quite thin."

"I didn't…" Arya had regained enough breath to speak. "I didn't run. He was lying."

"I know," Tywin said. "And you lied to me about the reason for your exhaustion today. Don't do that again. I despise being lied to."

Arya nodded once.

"Come." Tywin gestured for her to follow him. "We best see to that cut on your face."

The cut was minor. It might leave a scar, but it would be barely perceptible to the naked eye. That was good. Tywin needed her well if he was going to use her as a bargaining chip.

The girl watched him warily as he sat down at his desk, placing her sword in front of him. She had suspicious grey eyes. She kept looking to the sword, like a child in want of their favorite toy.

No… not a toy. She had known how to use it. One man was already dead when Tywin arrived. It seemed the girl was not just playing at being a knight from a song. She was willing to kill when necessary.

That made her both more dangerous and more fascinating to Tywin.

"The guards will not give you trouble anymore," Tywin said. "If they do, they'll be deaf fools who did not heed a warning, and I will see them punished for it."

Arya nodded once. She was rather silent. He wondered if the attack had scarred her. She was still very young. Thirteen, if he remembered correctly. Younger than Joffrey by two years. Tywin forgot that sometimes because she was quite a bit smarter.

"Did they take your tongue when they attacked you?" Tywin asked.

"No, my lord," Arya murmured.

"Did they take anything else?"

Arya shook her head. "They did not get the chance."

Tywin nodded once. "I will be awake for some time if you wish to rest. I don't want you knocking over goblets tomorrow during the meeting."

Arya swallowed thickly. "Yes, my lord." She glanced once more at her sword. "What… will you do with needle?"

"Keep it somewhere out of your reach," Tywin said. "But it will be safe enough. You have my word."

Arya nodded once. Tywin saw more words jumping at her lips but she was hesitant to say them. Hesitancy did not become her.

"You want to say something else. Speak," Tywin said. "I'm in no mood to guess."

Arya looked away, down at her hands. "Nothing… just…" She released a breath. "Thank you, my lord. For intervening."

Ah, so that was it. Retorts and dangerous comments came so easily to her, but thanks stuck in her throat, like she had never tasted the words before. Tywin supposed it was not often a wolf had cause to thank a lion-particularly a captured wolf.

"You do not need to thank me," he said. "You're too important for me to leave you to my men. They could have damaged you, and my son could pay the price. Understand?"

Arya nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer. It put her out of his debt.

"Good." Tywin said. "Now sleep. I won't ask again."

She obeyed, finding another corner of the tent where she could rest. Tywin kept an eye on her until her breathing steadied- a clear sign that she had fallen asleep. Then he returned to his papers.

This had been a very long war for both of them, and there was still a lot of war yet to come.