Tyrion
Distant watchers peered down from tall red towers of Casterly Rock's gatehouse as Tyrion and his sellsword Bronn ascended through the hilly pathway which led to the looming castle atop the great rock. Casterly Rock, the seat of House Lannister and the Casterlys before them stood proud atop its hill overlooking the Summer Sea. Legend says that Casterly Rock was named for the family that ruled it in the Age of Heroes, the Casterlys, who no longer exist. His ancestor, Lann the Clever had outwitted them to get the Rock for himself. Casterly Rock itself was carved out of the great stone hill colossal rock Tyrion was climbing, beside the Sunset Sea. It is popularly believed to resemble a lion in repose at sunset. But all Tyrion could see was a stretch of some shape and a big structure facing the sea. But in the golden light of the setting sun he could admit that it almost looked like a lion. The Casterlys of antiquity had built a ringfort on the peak, and as millenia have passed its natural defenses have been expanded with walls, gates, and watchtowers. The base of the Rock contains large sea-carved caverns, made by the unyielding waves of the Summer Sea. Hundreds of mineshafts were littered in the depths of the Rock from where gold and stones has been mined for thousands of years, as well as yet untouched gold veins.
The climb itself proved hard for Tyrion. He had made the climb half a hundred times before but it felt so different as if it was his first time now with the death of his brother still hurting him. They had left Lannisport at first light after his short stay in his mother's home. Lady Joanna had been a Lannister of Lannisport before she became the Lady of the Rock. His uncle Ser Stafford Lannister brought him in and gave him and Bronn a day's rest and fresh mounts for the journey to Casterly Rock. They had left Lannisport first light and kept a fast pace. They had been climbing up the rock for almost a day now. He wondered how it would be to reach the top of the Wall. The Rock has been measured at three times the height of the Wall or the Hightower of Oldtown. Though it was still not so high as the Wall it still made a hard time for him to reach the top.
Tyrion could see the torches lit up on The Lion's Mouth. The Lion's Mouth was the main entrance to Casterly Rock, an enormous natural cavern reaching two hundred feet high. Its steps were wide enough for twenty riders to ride abreast. The port beneath it had docks, wharves, and shipyards and it is accessible by longships and cogs. Torches were burning, placed on the iron sconces set up on the wall above every step. Tyrion made the ascend carefully. He had no idea to rush and fall down to his death.
The moon was high up in the sky when they reached the castle. Casterly Rock was a huge settlement. It was almost two leagues long from west to east, and contains of tunnels, dungeons, storerooms, barracks, halls, stables, stairways, courtyards, balconies, and gardens. In the bowels of the Rock were rooms where caged lions were once kept, and cells for the worst prisoners.
The opening to the castle was flanked by two watchtowers with their base shaped in the form of lions, manned by pikemen and archers. It was so quiet and different from the time he had last seen it before he left for Riverrun. A few men could be seen and the guards at their posts were all the others he could see. Casterly Rock was in deep mourning for his brother. Tyrion wondered if they will ever mourn for him when he dies.
A party of Lannister guardsmen in red cloaks and lion crested helms came forward to meet him and Bronn as they entered through the gate. The captain of guards led them. Tyrion walked up to greet him. "Vylarr."
Vylarr looked down at him with his helmet in the crook of his arm. "My lord, Tyrion," he said in astonishment. "We all feared you dead since you took a long time to return back, or lost . . . " He looked at Bronn beside him uncertainly. "This . . . companion of yours . . . "
"A friend of mine," Tyrion said. "Where will I find my lord father?"
"In his solar."
That should do. But Tyrion wanted to go see his brother first. "My brother?" he asked.
Vylarr grew visibly troubled at that. "My lord, I thought . . ."
"I know what happened, Vylarr," Tyrion said annoyed. "Where is he now?"
Vylarr turned to look back at the men and then faced him. "Your father ordered us to rest him in the Hall of Heroes."
So he has not even waited for me to come back and see my brother for the last time. Tyrion left them and made to walk to the castle. Vylarr stopped Bronn when the sellsword tried to follow him. "He is with me," Tyrion said and the captain of guards stood aside at once.
He got into the castle and walked straight for the Hall of Heroes. It was in the Hall of Heroes where the Lannisters and their close kin who died valiantly were interred. The Hall was in the lower levels of the Rock. Tyrion could hear thunder beneath him, where the sea came in to smash against the land. He made it quick to the Hall of Heroes with Bronn.
"Is this where they bury your family," Bronn smirked looking at the entrance. "It is so dark that someone else will die while trying to bring the dead ones here."
Tyrion eyed him coolly. "It is where the Lannisters rest for ages after their deaths."
The sellsword grinned again. "Well, when you die don't expect me to bring you here."
Tyrion entered the hall alone with a torch in his arm. The Hall of Heroes was a dark place as it was one of the Rock's lower levels. Thousands of tombs crowded the place and that is only as far as Tyrion could see in the light within the place. He knew that there were others and more deeper levels to it. There were armors displayed along the wall of the hall. Armors, gilded and gone rust, the armors of the Lannisters of the old. His brother was the one near to the entrance. He stayed there sometime in silence letting all the feelings and worries wash over him. When he was finished and came out from the Hall, a certain courage took hold of him. Bronn was leaning against the wall and picking the dirt out from his nails with his dagger.
"It is done?" the sellsword raising his eyebrow.
"It is," Tyrion said.
He then took the stairs to the upper levels of Casterly Rock where the Lord of Casterly Rock had his chambers and solar. A pair of house guards in crimson cloaks and lion-crested helms stood guard at his father's solar, on either side of the door. "My father?" Tyrion asked them.
"Inside, my lord."
Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, was in his middle fifties, yet hard as a man of twenty. Even seated, he was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders, a flat stomach. His thin arms were corded with muscle. When his once-thick golden hair had begun to recede, he had commanded his barber to make his hair cropped short; Lord Tywin did not believe in half measures. He razored his lip and chin as well, but kept his beard cropped short, a short stubble of wiry golden hair that covered most of his cheeks from ear to jaw. His eyes were a pale green, flecked with gold. A fool more foolish than most had once jested that even Lord Tywin's shit was flecked with gold. Some said the man was still alive, deep in the bowels of Casterly Rock.
Ser Kevan Lannister, his father's only surviving brother, was sharing a flagon of ale with Lord Tywin when Tyrion entered his father's solar. His uncle was portly and balding, with a close-cropped yellow beard that followed the line of his massive jaw. Ser Kevan saw him first. "Tyrion," he said in surprise.
"Uncle," Tyrion said, bowing. "And my lord father. What a pleasure to find you here." Lord Tywin did not stir from his chair, but he did give his dwarf son a long, searching look. If he was mourning he did not show it a bit. "I see that the rumors of your demise were unfounded."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Father," Tyrion said. "No need to leap up and embrace me, I wouldn't want you to strain yourself." He crossed the room to their table, acutely conscious of the way his stunted legs made him waddle with every step. Whenever his father's eyes were on him, he became uncomfortably aware of all his deformities and shortcomings. "It was in fact a hard road for me but I survived with the help of my companion here," he pointed to Bronn as he climbed into a chair and helped himself to a cup of his father's ale. "Though I'm glad to know that you were worried for me."
"The Honor of our house was at stake," Lord Tywin said. "No one shall shed the Lannister blood with impunity."
"Hear Me Roar," Tyrion said, grinning. The Lannister words. "Truth be told, none of my blood was actually shed, although it was a close thing once or twice. Morrec and Jyck were killed."
"I suppose you will be wanting some new men."
"Don't trouble yourself, Father, I've acquired my own." He tried a swallow of the ale. It was very fine ale, in truth.
"Who might you be?" Lord Tywin asked Bronn beside him, cool as snow.
"Father, this is Bronn," Tyrion said to his father. "He accompanied me here." To Bronn he said, "May I present my lord father, Tywin son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport."
Lord Tywin looked up from what he was doing. "You shall have all my son promised you, and more," Lord Tywin told him. He looked back to his brother and gave a parchment to him. "Kevan please take our. . . honored guest with you. Give him meat and mead of our table."
Tyrion looked at the letter his uncle had in his hand. Ser Kevan never gave up anything in his face and kept the letter secure. Tyrion gave a nod to Bronn and the sellsword followed his uncle out of the room.
"So I see that you've not forgotten the Lannister blood shed in Braavos too?" Tyrion asked.
Lord Tywin ignored the sally. If he felt anything he never showed it. "So what are they saying about it?"
"They have agreed to wait up." Tyrion told his father. "But I see that you're not waiting for anyone?"
"Did you come here just to make your lame japes? I have important letters to finish."
"Important letters like the one you gave to Uncle Kevan. To be sure."
"Some battles are won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens. Spare me these coy reproaches, Tyrion. He steepled his fingers under his chin. "Say what you want and take yourself back to your chambers to get some rest."
"What do I want, you ask? I'll tell you what I want. I want what is mine by rights. I want Casterly Rock."
His father's mouth grew hard. "Your brother's birthright?"
"The knights of the Kingsguard are forbidden to marry, to father children, and to hold land, you know that as well as I. And Jaime can't rule Casterly Rock from the Hall of Heroes now, can he? It's past time. I want you to stand up before the realm and proclaim that I am your son and your lawful heir."
Lord Tywin's eyes were a pale green flecked with gold, as luminous as they were merciless. "Casterly Rock," he declared in a flat cold dead tone. And then, "Never."
The word hung between them, huge, sharp, poisoned.I knew the answer before I asked, Tyrion said. Nineteen years since Jaime joined the Kingsguard, and I never once raised the issue. I must have known. I must always have known. "Why?" he made himself ask, though he knew he would rue the question.
"You ask that? You, who killed your mother to come into the world? You are an ill-made, devious, disobedient, spiteful little creature full of envy, lust, and low cunning. Men's laws give you the right to bear my name and display my colors, since I cannot prove that you are not mine. To teach me humility, the gods have condemned me to watch you waddle about wearing that proud lion that was my father's sigil and his father's before him. But neither gods nor men shall ever compel me to let you turn Casterly Rock into your whorehouse."
"My whorehouse?"
"Yes," his father said. "Even without Jaime, I still have two grandsons to take up my line. And my granddaughter, I will choose Argella over you to take my place anytime."
Lord Tywin rose abruptly, to tower over his dwarf son. "Go back to your room, Tyrion, and speak to me no more of your rights to Casterly Rock. You shall have your reward for your duty to me, but it shall be one I deem appropriate to your service and station. You'll leave for King's Landing to attend the Prince's marriage in my stead. And you will not bring shame onto House Lannister there. You are done with whores. You'll not bring your whores to King's Landing."