300 AC - Harrenhal Castle - RiverLands - Seat of Power: Joffrey I Baratheon
Ever since she witnessed her father's execution, Arya spent her days in disguise as Ary; the orphan boy. Following a group heading for the Wall, in the end, left her being a prisoner of the Lannisters; currently held at Harrenhal.
Due to the overflowing number of prisoners, she and the group she was travelling with were held outside. Under the cloudy sky, they slept on the mud and often suffered from the drops of rain passing above them.
Every day they would wake up and see The Mountain picking one of them to be interrogated.
The village folk did not dare to look at him, maybe hoping they would escape his attention. But there was no way to hide from him, no way to be safe. He just chose whomever he liked.
There was a girl he picked on the fourth day who had slept with a soldier three nights running, yet the soldier said nothing. There was an old man he picked on the fifth day, who had mended their clothing and declared so often that his son served in the City Watch and did all for Joffrey that the other prisoners had actually started calling him All-for-Joffrey.
They call the ordinarily looking man who did the questioning the Tickler. He was assisted by Chiswyck, or by someone else, with Clegane just watching and listening until the prisoners died, which they invariably did.
The torture was a horrible one where they trapped a rat between a prisoner's stomach and a bucket. Then, with the flames of a torch, they would heat one side of the bucket, causing the rat to try and escape.
The only way to do so? The rat would tear apart the flesh of the man, biting on the skin and organs in an attempt to make a tunnel through his body.
Why did they do that? For answers of course, although Arya never truly understood the reasons behind such questions.
The questions were always about valuables or food hidden in the village, about the whereabouts of Beric Dondarrion and the size of his band and about who of the villagers had assisted them. They found a few valuables from the interrogations but only got wildly inconsistent information about Dondarrion and his men.
Yet, that one day things started the same but eventually took a surprising turn.
It all started when the famous Mountain appeared, once again ready to pick random prisoners and let the Tickler torture them for information.
This time, her friend Gendry was chosen with one more prisoner.
He was strapped to the chair, a rope around his neck, hands and feet to keep him there as the Tickler grabbed a rat. After that, he placed the rat in the bucket and trapped it on the boy's body, before repeating the same questions that Arya had memorized by now.
She watched in silence, her eyes eventually drifting to a Lannister soldier, who was put on guard and was also the man, who had taken Needle from her. She was tempted to get it somehow and kill every one of them before escaping.
Before Gendry could be tortured, the sound of horse hooves galloping against the muddy ground reached their ears. A few seconds later new faces had passed through the destroyed gates of Harrenhal.
The first person Arya's attention went to was the man leading the small group, riding a beautiful white stallion whose legs were almost black from all the mud on it. He wore the Lannister armour but this was far more detailed with a red sash-like material spread diagonally across his chest.
He was of a certain age, definitely older than her father but he seemed strong; fit even. That armour looked heavy and yet he rode perfectly fine with it while his sharp green eyes scanned the area around him.
Arya immediately knew who that person was... Tywin Lannister.
She had heard stories about the fearsome and ruthless Old Lion of Casterly Rock, whose name either aspired or terrified people.
Then that means...she must be Visenya Targaryen, she thought in her mind and quickly focused on the woman by his side.
She was dressed in armour although hers was far darker in shade compared to Tywin's. The whole design of it was different as well, being far thinner in creation and seemed to be more flexible; consisting of smaller parts around her arms and legs while she could see red fabric through the gaps between the metallic pieces.
She was on top of a beautiful black mare that had its own protective armour of a similar shade, with one part of the metal having formed a horn to protrude from the head; allowing the animal to impale anyone unfortunate enough to stand in front of it.
Arya noticed how powerful she looked, with the sword by her side and her gaze hard but calculated. Her white hair was loose, only a few strands having formed a braid crown to keep them away from her face.
The shade of it looked ghostly white while her unique eyes seemed to hold real magic behind them.
A man in the background shouted for the knights to take the things of their Lord and Lady, which they rushed to do. The powerful couple did a quick scan on top of their horses before coming to a halt right in front of the pen the prisoners were kept in.
A squire quickly rushed to grab the reins of the powerful animals, avoiding being bitten by the black mare at least twice. The sight amused Arya and she managed to notice that Visenya was enjoying the show.
Once she jumped off the saddle with the speed and easiness of a woman half her age, she patted the neck of the animal and spoke something to it in a language Arya never heard of but sounded foreign.
Immediately, the Lannister guard forced them to kneel as he also did; only that he rose once he had shown his respect to them.
Yet, Arya refused to do that and merely kept looking at them through her dirty dark brown bangs; no fear in her brown eyes.
"What's this?" Tywin asked, taking full notice of the kneeling prisoners.
"We weren't expecting you till tomorrow, Lord Tywin, Lady Visenya," the soldier said, bowing his head faintly.
His words amused Tywin, who chuckled although there was more mockery than amusement in his words. "Evidently not" he commented, earning a small amused smile from his wife. "Why are these prisoners not in their cells?"
It was then that the famous Mountain stepped forward. "Cells are overflowing, My Lord, My lady" he explained.
Arya took notice that no matter who asked the question, the men always answered by showing respect to both Tywin and Visenya. It made the young Stark wonder if she also spread as much fear as he did in their heart or if they simply refused to disrespect her in front of the man, who could have their heads taken at any moment.
The Guard from before, Poliver, spoke next. "This lot won't be here long" he explained as Tywin walked side by side with the Mountain, eyeing the prisoners while Visenya had remained just a step back but was still listening. "Don't need a permanent place. After we interrogate 'em, we usually just..."
His words, however, were cut by Visenya.
"You just what? Kill them I presume?" she asked rhetorically, coming to a halt as her sharp eyes moved from the prisoners to the cocky guard.
"Are we so well-manned that we can afford to discard able young bodies and skilled labourers? Execute common folk that can offer provisions and loyalty to us?" she asked him, once again rhetorically and with one white eyebrow lifted.
Poliver looked to the ground in shame, having nothing to answer. This pleased Arya, glad to see him being kicked back to his place, especially by a woman.
At the same time, Tywin took notice of Gendry, who was still tied to the chair.
"You, do you have a trade?"
"Smith, My Lord" he replied, pleasing the Old Lion as the point of his wife could not be more evident.
Poliver, on the other hand, noticed that Arya was staring at Tywin for far too long and was also standing. Immediately, he grabbed his sword.
"What are you looking at? Kneel!" he ordered but she did not obey him.
"Kneel or I'll carve your lungs out, boy."
There was no response and at that moment, the cocky Lannister soldier took a step forward and lifted his hand to harm her. Arya noticed Needle by his waist and wondered if she would be fast enough to grab it from him and kill him before he could.
However, someone else interfered.
For as the blade was about to pierce her, a gloved armoured hand grabbed the blade instead; stopping it halfway. A few small gasps were heard from soldiers and prisoners alike as the owner of that hand, was none other than the Dragoness.
She held the blade tightly in her arm, feeling the sharp edge threatening to pass through the leather of her glove but she did not release the blade. She glared daggers at Poliver, threatening him to make a move.
The sudden action made the soldier freeze in place and Arya swore she could see him shaking.
"You will do no such thing and neither will he" she ordered and released his sword, making him almost stumble back.
The sound of heavy steps made many glances at the other side, seeing Tywin taking a few steps towards Poliver with the Mountain right by his side. Immediately, the cocky soldier sheathed his blade and looked down; realizing he was trapped.
Visenya and Tywin had been riding for a while now; their camp set only half an hour away from Harrenhal. They had to move around areas, control their army, make plans and hold constant war councils.
Each day that passed with Jaime in captivity did not ease Tywin's mood, who had become less vocal in their time together. Visenya did not blame him and she did her best to be by his side and ensure that dream of hers to not shift.
However, the losses of men and the conditions of the world around them certainly have not helped with her mood either; especially when they would have to march to Harrenhal and reside there.
The Harrenhal walls were too high and too thick and well-stocked enough to withstand a siege and they both knew it. It would be the perfect place to operate from, its huge rooms and the size of the castle in general would offer housing to almost their full army.
A part of them had already occupied a group of men loyal to the mighty Mountain.
Yet, Visenya was not the happiest to stay in that castle.
Why, one might ask.
Because of the history behind the ruins of the one great castle.
Because once upon a time, the first Targaryen King, Aegon the Conqueror set his violet eyes upon the castle. When the Lord of that time refused to bend the knee, Aegon took action.
When the sun had gone down, flew Balerion high above Harrenhal, before plunging down upon Harrenhal; burning the castle beneath him.
All that was flammable, both supplies and ironmen, caught fire within the castle, while Harrenhal stone towers cracked and melted.
The Line of that Lord ended that night, him and his sons perishing in the amber flames that caused so much destruction. Even from afar, one could see the melted towers, a reminder of all of the great Targaryen power.
It was a reminder of times when her family was powerful, feared and untouchable; a time when dragons flew and she was not one of the last to be left alive.
She rode side by side with Tywin, mud being kicked behind them by the power of their horses as they galloped the rest of the distance. None said anything as they entered through the gates and were greeted by the sight of Lannister men and a lot of prisoners.
As their horses came to a halt, her mare tried to bite the squire; the horse was in a bitter mood as if sensing the mood of its rider. Visenya had to whisper to her in High Valyrian to keep her calm and allow the boy to take her away with Tywin's stallion.
Her eyes immediately went to the gathered prisoners, forced to bend but one child remained standing. She silently studied the child, seeing colours and a face that did not belong anywhere this west or south.
Yet, she spoke a few things and mostly listened. She did, however, have to put that annoying soldier back in his place when he so easily killed innocents, after torturing them for information.
She knew innocents died every day in war but those could still survive, they could still be offered jobs and food for their services. They would be able to live and the army would obtain more help and men; the latter being sacred after all those battles against the Northerners.
Then, she saw how the soldier was about to harm the standing kid for not kneeling and her instincts kicked in. She grabbed the blade, stopping it mid-air while being careful not to injure her arm; for she would not hear the end of it from Tywin.
Her actions drew the attention of her husband, who was not surprised. Instead, he merely watched in silence and let her take control of the situation; not in the mood to deal with those idiots now.
When she released his blade, only then did he step closer and as it was expected; Ser Gregor followed suit. Tywin did not have to do anything, his presence alone made it clear to the soldier that a wrong move and he would be dead.
Visenya might have the privilege to act upon impulses, decide certain things and take liberties but he was always by her side or would have her back. No one would survive if they dared to touch her, for he did not care whether they were disagreeing with her opinion or not.
His men knew that too well. Everyone across the Kingdoms knew that the Old Lion did not leave his mate defenceless and was known to be equally ruthless if one dared to threaten her.
"Why?" the soldier found himself asking out loud, his bravery being mostly made of stupidity.
Getting tired of this unnecessary drama and incompetence of the soldier, Tywin took a few steps closer and placed both his hands on the wooden pike of the pen.
"This one's a girl, you idiot, dressed as a boy."
He pointed out, something that his dear wife had already understood.
Who better than a woman to recognise a girl disguised as one?
"Why?" he asked the kid next as he leaned on that wooden pole.
"Safer to travel, My Lord, My Lady," Arya said, remembering how everyone was answering by addressing them both.
This seemed to please Tywin, who glanced at his wife. She was studying the girl but the smirk of amusement was evident upon hearing her reply.
"She is a smart one, Lord-Husband. That is rare lately" she said, remaining where she was with her back straight and her head high.
She stood out against the moody and grey background, against the endless faces of men and boys. She was like a goddess surrounded by mortals, her exotic features aiding to that. Her voice had a certain softness behind it but there was still power, one that matched her mighty stance and the way she carried herself.
"That she is," Tywin said as he straightened his posture. "More than I can say for this lot. Get these prisoners to work" he instructed the soldier.
Visenya, though, was not done.
"Bring the girl. I do believe my Lord Husband requires a new cupbearer" she added.
The Lion and the Dragoness exchanged a silent look, some sort of mental communication taking place between them. Tywin did not seem to disagree with the idea nor did he seem willing to suppress her sudden liberty.
Without another word exchanged, Tywin started to head for the stairs and she followed suit; quickly their steps fell into sync.
"My Lord, My Lady" the Mountain said and bowed his head, every single servant and knight following his actions when the powerful couple passed by them.