When he was a boy, Rodric Reyne met Tywin Lannister inside the walls of the Red Keep.

"You're one of the Reynes," Tywin said to him one day, coming upon Rodric in the armory. "Lord Roger's son, correct?"

Rodric looked up at the Lannister heir from the sword he was polishing, stumbling as he stood when he realized that it was the future Lord of Casterly Rock in front of him.

"Ah, yes. Lord Reyne is my father. I am Rodric."

Tywin's green eyes stared at him unnervingly, and Rodric could only shift uncomfortably until the older boy spoke, "What is it exactly that you do here?"

"I am Prince Duncan's squire, my Lord Lannister," Rodric said as he picked up the blade that he had been polishing, grabbing for its sheath before he put it away. His eyes turned back to the Lannister in front of him, whose eyes had seemingly not blinked. Rodric could only imagine that he was about to scorned, as he knew that Tywin Lannister had more backbone than the Lord of Casterly Rock did, and that the heir knew of Roger Reyne's low opinion of Tytos Lannister.

Tywin stayed silent for a longer moment before he nodded, "I am Tywin Lannister. It is good to see another Westerman. Remember to always ask for another's name during a first meeting, even if you know them by sight beforehand."

Tywin turned on his heel, leaving Rodric feeling bewildered at the strange conversation that just occurred. The heirs to the houses of lions in the Westerlands met briefly that day, but it proved to be a fateful introduction for the subsequent years.

As the years progressed, Rodric and Tywin continued to interact with each other, with something akin to friendship blooming between the two of them. They got along well, so long as the matter of Lord Reyne's disrespect towards Tywin's father was not mentioned. After being knighted by Prince Duncan, Rodric went back to Castamere for a number of years to meet his vassals and learn to rule Castamere.

The next meeting after his knighting would be back in King's Landing – the place where so many events seemed to revolve, thought Rodric – following the Tragedy at Summerhall. The western lions were both men grown now.

"Lord Tywin," Rodric greeted as the Lannister stalled next to him as the funeral procession passed them on the streets leading down from the Red Keep.

"Lord Rodric," Tywin greeted back coolly as what remained of the royal family passed them. Rodric, dressed in red and black for the Targaryen who knighted him, thought that it was far too few a number.

Words were not always needed between the two of them, and it seemed that this was one of those times. They normally discussed wider politics of the Seven Kingdoms, and how trade could be bettered for the Westerlands once they came into power, but today they could only think about some of the impending storms that would be facing the Kingdom and West.

Whispers of a Blackfyre gathering power in the Stepstones had reached the houses of Westeros, and Rodric knew it would only be a matter of when there would be a new rebellion on their hands. King Jaehaerys would have the coming years full of strife for him, and Rodric could not help but think that King Aegon would have been the better king to weather the coming storm.

It seemed, however, that Rodric's musings over the future of the Seven Kingdoms were not reflected by Tywin when the Lannister suddenly spoke, "The West can't remain as it is."

That statement threw Rodric off, and a feeling of dread began to rise in his stomach. He had long known that Tywin would not stand for the Lannister name to continue to be trampled on, and that when the man was able that there would be a reckoning in the Westerlands. That reckoning, Rodric knew, would come for answers from his father and aunt.

Rodric stilled his breathing and calmed his nerves, "How do you mean?"

It seemed like a cruel irony when Tywin said, "There is a reckoning coming, Rodric. All I have to say is this: where will you stand when it comes?"

Rodric, thinking back, would recognize that short discussion as the moment that Tywin extended his claws.

Tarbeck Hall was a burnt-out husk when Rodric, having pressed his horse and personal forces near to the brink, came upon it. The heads of his uncle and cousin, mounted on spears, stood high like a morbid warning – a warning no doubt ringing out through the Westerlands now in the advent of Tywin's reckoning.

Rodric knew that there was little to be done now, with the Lannister forces having moved on from Tarbeck Hall. It was the bodies of Reyne men-at-arms among the dead though that stirred the familiar dread in his stomach. He had heard from the smallfolk that his father and uncle had raised their banners in rebellion to Tywin's demands of answering for the seizure of three Lannisters, but hoped that it was only his uncle that had been so foolish.

Rodric mustered his horse back to his men, some still bloodied from hunting bandits and robbers in the region near Castamere, who eyed him with mixed faces of worry and grimness. Rodric met their eyes, and found himself at a loss of words to say.

He sat on his horse, quiet for a bit longer, before speaking. "Tarbeck Hall is destroyed. My father has raised banners in rebellion. Tywin Lannister is doubtlessly beginning to lay siege to Castamere," his mouth fell into a grim line, his mind racing trying to think of what ways there were to deescalate this situation. "We ride for Castamere."

Ultimately, it was too late for Rodric to have any serious hope of affecting the siege of his childhood home. Tywin's forces, numbering in the thousands, outnumbered his own and were already entrenched. From the lack of flags, Rodric could also conclude that his father had abandoned the surface castle for the underground halls, which were more defensible but left them nowhere else to run if Tywin found the secondary exits.

He and his men stood at the top of a hill near Castamere while riders from Tywin's camp approached them. When they neared, Rodric held his fist up to stop his men from drawing swords. Fighting wouldn't do them any good here.

"Halt and state your name," said one of the riders imperiously, though Rodric wasn't impressed.

"Rodric Reyne, heir to Castamere. I demand an audience with the commander of this siege."

The riders shifted uneasily before they nodded, "You will bring two of your men, the rest shall stay here."

Rodric nodded before he pointed at two of his own riders, gesturing them to come with him. It appears they weren't expecting me. Did they believe that I was inside Castamere?

He followed the riders into the camp, noticing how many of the soldiers that were going about their business stopped to look at him. Rodric's armor, colored silver accented with black with the red lion rampant on his chest identified him to all of the soldiers. They neared a large tent, which clearly had to Tywin's. The flap was open, giving Rodric a clear view of the maps and table that were situated in the middle as he walked towards it. Tywin, blonde hair combed back, looked up from the maps as he entered.

The western lions eyed one another as their guards situated themselves around the tent. Tywin was lightly armored, having been examining maps of the area and of Lake Castamere. Another map of the grounds of Castamere was on the table, surrounded by figures of siege towers and soldiers.

"I was wondering when you would come. I looked for you at Tarbeck Hall, and almost believed you dead in the charge your father led."

Rodric pursed his lips at the mention of the battle that killed his cousin's family. "I led men out to rid the smallfolk of the robbers and bandits that had been plaguing them recently. It was from them I learned of my uncle and father's actions."

Tywin hummed in response as he looked back at the maps. Rodric kept silent as he watched the other lion circle around the table before coming to stand in front of him. "Your uncle and father refused to answer for their crimes of seizing members of my family, for refusing to pay their loans, and now must answer for raising banners in rebellion."

"If it is a matter of payment – "

"It is more than just payment anymore, Rodric," Tywin said, using his name for the first time this meeting. "It is about honor. It is about pride. It is about understanding that one does not treat a Lannister in such a fashion. It is about punishment, and it is about traitors. Simple as that."

Rodric clenched his fist around the handle of his sword, an action that did not go unnoticed as the other guards rested their hands on swords and Tywin's eyes narrowed. Rodric forced his grip to relax, and asked, "Have you received no notices from my family about settlement or peace?"

Tywin watched him for another second before moving back behind the table and picking up a letter. "You other uncle, Reynard, sent this out yesterday. Your father is feverish from a crossbow bolt and your uncle does not think he will last much longer. He is suing for peace, but I will not grant it."

Rodric paled at the news of his father's illness, and of his uncle Reynard attempting to sue for peace. His father would never let him do that if he believed he was able enough to fight. It was more dangerous news than Rodric wanted to hear.

"What of the women and children? The servants? Will there be no peace for them?" Rodric asked, trying to find something Tywin would move on.

There was a hardness in his eyes as Tywin looked at him, "There will be no peace, not until I want it. Not for your father, not for your uncle, and not for anyone in that castle. The reckoning I warned you about is here, Rodric, and the question must be asked. Where do you stand?"

Rodric felt ill at the implications of that question. "What do you mean, Tywin?"

"You asked me that same question two years ago. I will answer you again – what side do you stand on? You can either allow sickness in and let the Westerlands atrophy, or cut it out and be strong." Tywin drew his dagger and laid it on the table to punctuate his last point. "I extend this offer to you out of the blood we shared in the War of Ninepenny Kings. We took the field, we bled, we fought, and we survived together. It is in respect of the man who fought with me there that I did not have my riders strike you down when you crested the hill. It is why I have not had crossbowmen loose bolts into your back. It is why I have waited until you arrived to proceed with my siege plans."

"You would have me betray my family. Have me call them turn-cloaks, traitors?"

Tywin moved and slammed his dagger into the table, the blade sinking into the wood with a thud, "I will not offer again, Lord Reyne," he said with eyes locked on Rodric.

Rodric stared at the dagger, impaled in Lake Castamere, and the lessons of his father and uncle came back to him unbidden.

"Good, Rodric. Step, step, swing, step, swing. Very good," Roger said to his son. "But what do you do if there is more than one enemy?" he asked, just before Rodric's uncle slapped his nephew's legs with a blunt spear from behind.

"Always be aware of your surroundings, nephew. Fights are rarely fair, rarely a duel."

"Fights are often unbalanced things, with one side outnumbered and out positioned. When you find yourself in those situations though, you cannot lose heart. Your men will look to you for leadership, for guidance. If you falter, then so shall they. If you steel yourself, then they shall too and you can fight your way out. Lions fight hardest when backed into a corner."

"But remember, Rodric," his uncle Reynard interjected, "That the lion is also cunning. It will fight and roar and maul its way to victory, yes, but it can recognize when it is better to fall back and fight another day. And it will wait, sitting in the grasses and among the rocks starving, until it is the opportune moment to strike."

Rodric, returned from King's Landing and meeting the young Lannister heir, absorbed these lessons with a rapt attention.

"Well, Rodric? What will it be?"

Rodric Reyne opened his eyes and felt pain clutch at his heart. Forgive me father, uncle. The lion waits.

"I name them traitors."

A/N: Had an idea for a Reyne-survives story. Wanted to get it out on paper.