They were dancing in the enormous lavishly decorated big hall of the Casterly. Lady Genna overdid herself in turning the castle into a festivity with the Lannister's colors. Arya did not contradict the general color scheme: the dark scarlet skirt of her new dress which fluttered vigorously when she turned. She was moving with practiced ease now — her fear forgotten a long ago. Tywin gave her a look of approval and even smiled with the corners of his lips. Good, he got over their yesterday's quarrel. And she forgave him yesterday already. Besides, it was unclear what was more offensive — Tywin's furious roar, or her sarcastic response. Her lion got enraged because of such trifles as her visiting the Casterly's underground caves with lead to the sea.

But she had not been alone simply in the company of lady Genna's grandchildren Ty and Willem. She did not take the guards? Of course, it wouldn't be the adventure if she had been escorted. It was not dangerous to explore winding underground tunnels, corridors and stairs of underground living stone if you tread them carefully. She was mesmerized with stalactites, with their bizarre shapes resembling some kind of fantastic creatures. It seemed they even moved a little in the light of the torch. They had failed to go out to the seashore due to water that had accumulated during autumn rains, although they chose the time of a low tide. Arya, of course, had tried to pass on the edge of some little pool, that she thought was just a puddle, holding onto the wall of the cave. But she had slipped and ended up in the icy cold water up to her thighs. And although she had managed to get out quickly, water had seeped into her boots. It was not really a big deal, just wetted her feet in the underground lake.

Tywin just couldn't get it yet that she couldn't always behave like a lady! "You had been a boy ages ago, so you probably all forgot how it felt," she threw to him against his accusations. Lord Tywin did not continue to argue. He left, slamming the door. He had spent the night in their bedroom, as his blanket was messed up in the mourning, but they met only in the afternoon. "Are you ready?" he coldly had extended her his hand and they were headed to the ceremony.

At the next dance turn, Arya clung to her husband for an instant. It would be better if they just forgot about the yesterday's misunderstanding. It wouldn't be possible for her to change her lion any way. Lady Genna told her this morning when they were helping Brienne that, even as a youngster, Tywin had behaved like a little adult. She, too, had matured early, but her love for adventure had not disappeared. And she really didn't care much if Tywin liked it or he did not.

They switched partners, but in two dances Arya was in the hands of her husband once again, enjoying the tantalizing proximity of her lion. When they returned to the table she carefully looked at Tywin — he was clearly satisfied and no longer angry. It's like a weight lifted off her heart. Although she did not considered herself guilty, it was not nice of her to remind the old Lion about his age. But it was the truth that did not really bother her. Of course, it was some compromise of her priorities: lord Tywin wouldn't laugh heartily with her, Lord Tywin wouldn't take part in some practical jokes she liked so much before, he wouldn't go exploring with her. But only him she sincerely admired, only his touch caused her unmistakable waves of desire. Even by sitting silently next to him she felt well and happy.

Arya was so caught up with her thoughts that she almost forgot about Brienne. Everything was perfect so far, as they followed all of Sansa's advice. If the guests did not really admire the beauty of the Maid of Tarth, they also did not look at her with sneers either. Brienne overstepped her usual shyness and managed to answer to congratulations with an easy smile. She needed to give credit to Jaime as he was treating his young wife with warmth, not hiding his feelings that he probably really had. Brienne's eyes shone with genuine happiness, making her quite attractive. Well, Arya was really relived that Cersei did not show up at the wedding and did not spoil everything with some nasty cruel trick.

Arya looked at her friend. Brienna was seating quietly hunching under a Lannister red cloak, lowering her eyes and wrinkling the gold trimming with her fingers. Meanwhile the kingslayer was talking to some knight without paying attention to his wife's mood change. "She is afraid of the ceremony that would follow any time soon," understood Arya. "Can we skip bedding, please," she looked up pleadingly at her lord husband. But, to her displeasure, he shook his head negatively, "I will not deprive our guests of their beloved tradition. But you have nothing to worry about for your big friend — her fighter's reflex will kick in at the right moment. Let's see who will be the first with a black eye or a broken nose," he chuckled. Arya sighed, Brienne had already became Tywin's good daughter but his sarcastic attitude towards her was still present.

"Why do you know everything?" Arya uttered through her muffed laughter. Diamon Lannister was returning to his seat. He was swearing and holding the reddened handkerchief by his mouth. The men who were left by Brienne's side took her gallantly by her elbows and led out of the big hall to the matrimonial chambers stripping her out of her cloak only.

The kingslayer was less fortunate — about a dozen girls and women carried him in their arms, letting go of the frivolous jokes. His doublet and boots flew onto the floor before the procession disappeared behind the door.

"I'm not a boy like you had noticed yesterday," Tywin looked at Arya and she inadvertently lowered her eyes under his gaze. She should be careful with her words, indeed. Her lion was overlooking nothing and always paying his debts.

Мaeol was gazing into flames of the hearth with his unblinking dark eyes, muttering some strange spells. Lord of Casterly was observing him skeptically and wondering, the truth in the priest's actions — show or real spiritual inspiration? "We shall live — we shall see," decided the lion and put his skepticism aside once again.

Despite his obvious commitment to his deity, Maeol appeared to be a practical person. And he already appeared to be useful. He knew Melisandre back in Asshai years ago and considered her a strong, but not a very flexible of mind priestess. Fortunately, Maeol had declared, after he had conferred for some time with his fire, that Stannis was not Azor Ahai by any means. It was simply irresponsible and quite a fatal mistake of the red woman, the priest had reassured Tywin's uneasy thoughts. It facilitated his business — any priest, even one who had been expelled from his temple, to not go against the Red God's true prophecy. Maeol was not a scrupulous person and agreed on a title of lord and some land for his help in eliminating of the impostor Stannis. However, he refused to harm the red witch — maybe out of fear, maybe because of his cult solidarity.

Certainly, it would be almost impossible to force Stannis to leave the Wall. To be realistic to make Baratheon leave the Castle Black would be enough for his plan. That would prevent the noble lord Snow to rush to protect his guest. Tywin would send his people to the Night's Watch under the disguise of new recruits. And Мaeol will go to visit Меlisandre to distract her or if it would seem possible, even to persuade the red woman. Meanwhile his people will coordinate their actions according to the situation, as the self-proclaimed king could not be always well protected.

Аrya had already sent a raven to her half-brother from the Riverrun. The confidential letters of beloved relatives were always better, that some ultimatums. If the Lord Commander of the night watch wished to receive wild fire, he better execute both — persistence, and diplomacy, to force Stannis to relocate from the main castle.

"But what about the prophecy?" asked Tywin without even hint of curiosity in his flat tone, "I heard something about dragons across the Narrow Sea. Or is this just fables of a drunk seamen?"

"My lord," the priest turned from the fire, "No amount of wine could force numerous strangers to see the nonexistent. The person, to whom I trust, as my own brother, had beheld them with his own eyes in Quart. They were just winged lizards, but time flies, my lord."

If wargs, the White Walkers and witches existed in this world, than could the dragons also appear in three hundred years? The Dragon Queen? The Breaker of Chains? The last Targarien? No, that dammed dynasty should not revive.

They were in their tent tonight. Since the night of Rickon's rescue Arya did not dare to turn into her furry sister as the memoirs of spilled human blood were stopping her. However, these memories became more and more indistinct and less and less personal. Last few days Nymeria behaved strangely. She often left their sight and ran alongside the road in the woods. Arya had even started to worry that her girl would decide to leave her for the wild. Undoubtedly, she had her right to choose so. But Arya also had her right to learn what was wrong with her wolf.

So, she did not hesitate to jump into Nymeria' skin. It felt strange this time. Her wolf felt some strange excitement, which partially impeded Arya's human mind. The feeling was similar to the one she had had during the fight, only this was not a fury. The sensations were concentrated in the area of the wolf stomach. She also felt damp and sensitive under Nymeria's tail. The smell was a little similar to the moon blood. Certainly, the female animals had it as well only it worked differently and happened once in six-eight moons.

Someone was pursuing her for a while. The pursuer did not even try to be careful about it. To the contrary, it appeared he intentionally let her know about his presence. She had already encountered a smell of this follower on the bushes and the tree trunks. The smell made her dizzy, complicating her human's thinking. Nymeria stopped, put herself in defensive position and began to growl.

He was not as big as her, not the pure direwolf obviously, but he was larger than the usual wolf nevertheless. He gave out a plaintive howling, made a jump towards her, having buried his muzzle in forepaws. "He is bowing to me," registered her human consciousness. The wolf made several circles around her, then sat down and started howling again. Nymeria for some reason howled back to him, Arya's mind just was passively aware of her doing it. Afterwards the wolves sniffed each other and began to run around, catching up, jumping against each other and biting playfully.

When the touches became more often and more intimate. Arya collected her weakened consciousness with a big effort. If she would stay and proceed any further the memories of such lovemaking would be harder to forget that those of the bloody human throats.

In a minute she was back to their tent by her husband's side. She sighed with relief ; she better be careful now to not turn back to Nymeria accidentally. She moved more close to her spouse, pushed her hand under his tunic, tracing with her fingers downwards. Then she untied his pants. Her lion was deep in his sleep, as were his facilities. Arya felt a little intimidated as she was not use to waking Tywin up by harassing him such and furthermore she had never raised his penis from its initial condition. Whether he would become angry or not? Whether she would be successful or not?

Her lion did not wake up, but his member began to harden under her playful hand. Having rejected last doubts, she dived her head under the blanket …

"So, I am not dreaming it," Tywin suddenly seized her up and drew her up from the covers. They were face to face now. She couldn't recognize the expression of his eyes as well not having her wolf eyes. "What's the meaning of it, lady-wife?" Tywin took her by her chin. If not for his firm member which was pushing against her thigh it would be possible to think, that he appeared angry.

"I, certainly, could continue my wolf dream, my lord-husband, but I had swore fidelity before the Seven," Arya grinned, settled her hands against her lion's shoulders and, dexterously caught his raised penis into her already damp heat, and sharply lowered herself on it.

"Well, it wouldn't do, my she-wolf, I do not wish to deprive you from the completeness of sensations," her lion smirked, took Arya by her waist, turned her around, put her on her knees in front of him, holding her tight in a certain position. Her lion slightly bit her neck and thrust into her. Unlike her reaction on his similar attempt many moons ago on their journey to the King's Landing from the Harrenholl she did not become angry.

Tywin's way of thinking was logically sarcastic and she could easily rely on it. Although it was not her favorite pose, she might receive pleasure after all. She just began to move towards him, trying to not think about Nymeria.

"I am not sure she would return in the morning," assumed Tywin when she lay in his arms under furs, already satisfied, "I shall allow us to depart late. We will go hunting in he morning it should attract Nymeria. But we cannot remain here for an indefinite time."

Arya felt uneasy. There was a possibility that Nymeria wouldn't return at all — wolves mate for life. Certainly, she could turn into her and return her girl forcefully. But would it be fair towards her furry sister? She could not fall asleep for long because of such uneasy thoughts.

Nymeria did not join them during the hunt, though they were pursuing a big deer — her favorite prey. She did not come to the smell of meat preparing on the fire. After dinner when they had already saddled their horses, Arya could hardly suppress her tears. "I also became used to her company," Tywin gave her a reassuring hug and she felt a little better.

Nymeria caught up with them in two days after Arya had lost all hope. The wolf simply jumped out of a glade parallel to the road and just simple joined Thundercloud, as if she hadn't be absent at all.

"Well, did you enjoy yourself tramp?" — Аrya smiled, looking down on the furry sister. If all will be well soon she could make Sansa and Rickon very happy. Certainly, puppies would be smaller than those of a pure direwolf, but they wouldn't mind.

"I do not understand you, Tywin, could Тirion be so irreplaceable in the Small Council?" his wife brought up this unpleasant matter again. They were close to the King's Landing, having an easy dinner in a room at the inn and she suddenly recollected their dispute that happened one week ago in Casterly. Certainly enough he always was rigid and unfair to his younger son. And now he did not allow him to go to the Free Cities along with Kivan. And, of course, Gerion was a favorite of Tyrion's! " Why you couldn't send Tyrion just by himself? You need sir Kivan here," Arya couldn't stop herself to advocate for Tyrion. The official version of the trip was the investigation of the disappearance of Gerion and the new search for the Brightroar— ancestral Lannistre sword.

Tywin delayed his answer not liking the sight of his young wife at all. She had already learned to comprehend many nuances hidden behind his usual stern visage. "You are hiding something from me," she concluded with a pouty face. Тywin was in confusion. He, certainly, had his rights to growl at Arya, as the whole affair was not really her bloody business. She would forgive him « a terrible roar of a lion », but not if he mistrust her. As his girl for herself did not hold any secrets from him.

"You are right. But do understand the knowledge will assign to you a part of the responsibility for my actions. So, try to calm Tyrion down. I shall allow him to go later. Also do not speak any more about it, especially, when we shall return to the Red Keep. I do not trust Varys with his dammed "little birds".

"I do agree — the eunuch shouldn't be trusted. He couldn't have been unaware about Litlefinger's network of spies. Why you did not proceed with an inquiry? After all, Varis could confess under torture as Bealish did," Arya sneered, "It was amazing softness for you, just let the eunuch go." She got her point in of course.

"I always could do it later. For me it is more important to learn where Varys' loyalties lie. Certainly they aren't with me by any chance of the imagination. Had you ever tried your exceptional gift with any other animal besides Nymeria?" he asked with a short laugh.

Not yet, but the cat, likely would do. Nobody would pay her much attention, even the clever Varys," Arya grinned, "I will try but I an not so sure I could do it, as I do have the bond with Nymeria," his little warg wife was not surprised at all at his suggestion.

"If it wouldn't be easy for you to do, please, do not experiment with yourself. I do not want you taking any risk."

Arya shrugged with a pleasant countenance, rising from her seat, approaching him from behind, embracing his shoulders, "I, apparently, could guess about Kivan's mission. Is it related to the Dragon Queen?" she whispered into his ear, "As so, you better know that your younger son knows a lot about dragons. I even borrowed the dragon book from him. You do not want, after her death, her dragons ending up in the hands of our enemies? And it would be better to tame them, than to kill. If I will be successful with a cat then it could be possible to do with a dragon as well," Arya set on the handle of his armchair smiling. Her eyes were flashing with a fervent spark.

"Are you a madwoman? Or are you a fool hungry for deadly adventures? I wouldn't let you approach them within a mile," bellowed Tywin. But he couldn't disagree that his wife had her own right in it, "And I wish to look at this dragon book."

If Tyrion could help somehow with dragons why not let him try. But he wouldn't risk Arya's life under any circumstances. But Tyrion shouldn't know about his plans concerning the Targarien girl, as his youngest son could be too goodhearted under certain circumstances. He better arrive later after Kivan had agreed about all the terms in the Temple of the Black and White.

"Well, when you will be of age, I shall make you the Maestre of Whispers. It looks like nothing can slip your formidable observations. And we shall not come back to this conversation any more. I will explain everything to Tyrion by myself giving him no more information as I intend to."

Arya silently nodded, brushed his cheek with her lips, and returned o her seat across the table. Her eyes, the truth, continued to shine, which probably meant, she did not put aside her crazy ideas about dragons. Tywin frowned ready for his next firm remark but changed his mind.

Against his own will, he suddenly beheld the image of his young wife astride on a small golden dragon. She was clad in black leathers, with thin chain armor. The true queen-warrior, indeed! The vision lasted not more then a fraction of second, but it ceased his desire to be angry.