Arya wasn't an expert on war, but she knew what Jaime Lannister's arrival meant. If he was here, he wasn't her brother's hostage anymore. Tywin had said more than once that Jaime was the only reason he couldn't harm her or Sansa. But here he was, free.
"How did you get here?" Tywin demanded.
"Walked a rather long way. With a very tall woman as my guide. You should make sure she's paid well. She did a fine job protecting me." Jaime sat down in the chair across from his father's desk. "Oh, and Catelyn Stark sends her regards."
"Catelyn Stark let you go?" Tywin asked, his voice tight.
"Yes. She wants me to negotiate for the release of her daughters," Jaime said. "I don't think her son would approve. Still, if we're treating this as a hostage exchange, it would be a show of good faith to return at least one of the girls."
Arya looked up, barely breathing. Return one girl. Could she actually go home? The thought made her feel lighter than air.
"It would be... if we didn't still have a war to win," Tywin said coldly. "My willingness to release her daughters depends on whether Robb Stark accepts my peace terms. Releasing you was a stupid move."
"It's wonderful to see you too, father," Jaime said with a smirk. "I'm all right, by the way. Unharmed. I'm sure you were wondering."
Tywin gave Jaime a look that would have broken most men. But Jaime was his son, and he was used to it. It was funny, Arya thought. For a man who claimed to care so much about his son's life, Tywin was awfully cold to him. Her own father was never like that with any of his children.
"As it happens, I was wondering," Tywin said. "I've been trying my best to win this war without pushing Robb Stark to harm you. You've been a problem for months. So don't be smug with me."
"You're full of warm words, as always," Jaime shot back.
"Warm words don't win wars."
"I hear they can be nice to get from family."
"If you want warmth, go south to King's Landing. I still have work to do here."
A tense silence fell between them. Arya realized she'd been frozen in place for the last minute, still cleaning a goblet. Jaime's eyes fell on her, and she quickly went back to her work.
"Your cupbearer pays close attention to our conversations," Jaime noted. "Have you considered he might be a spy?"
"She is not a spy," Tywin said, seeming glad to change the subject. "Come here, girl."
Arya swallowed hard and walked cautiously to the table. She could feel the Kingslayer watching her, trying to place her face.
"Jaime, this is Arya Stark of Winterfell," Tywin said plainly. "I believe you've met."
Jaime's eyebrows shot up. "Seven hells, it is. I didn't recognize her."
Arya cleared her throat. "That's... not surprising. We never spoke at Winterfell, my lord."
"No. I think I saw you running around the courtyard with a helmet on once," Jaime recalled.
Arya's mouth twitched into a small smile. "That does sound like me, ser."
"We have something in common, you and I," Jaime said. "I was a hostage to your family, and now you're a hostage to mine."
"But my mother wanted you to negotiate for my return, right?" Arya asked, her hope returning.
"Yes." Jaime glanced at Tywin. "But you see who I'm negotiating with."
Tywin ignored Jaime's comment. He didn't stop their conversation, either, so Arya felt brave enough to ask another question.
"What else... what else did my mother say to you?"
"She insulted me quite a bit. But in the end, she let me go because she was worried about you. And your sister, of course." Jaime tilted his head. "No one had heard a word about you. Some people thought you might be dead."
"As you can see, she's not," Tywin said. "For now, she's my cupbearer."
"An odd choice. Why not send her back to King's Landing?"
"I don't trust Cersei with her," Tywin answered honestly.
"Fair," Jaime agreed. "It's still an unusual job for a hostage."
"She was already pretending to be my cupbearer when I found out who she was. And she's good at it. I find her company better than most of my men," Tywin said. "She doesn't waste my time with incompetence."
"Really." Jaime glanced at Arya. "You know, that's the closest thing you'll ever get to a compliment from him. You should treasure it."
"Your time as a prisoner hasn't sobered you at all," Tywin sighed. "You still take nothing seriously."
"If I took everything seriously, life would be much more depressing," Jaime replied.
"This is war, Jaime. It's better to be depressed than to be losing," Tywin said flatly.
Jaime tilted his head. "What happens if we're both? I heard Stannis Baratheon fell. That's good news. But the Young Wolf has been outplaying you."
"I have a way to end this war. Multiple ways, in fact, now that you're back." Tywin nodded at Arya. "She has just become a much more useful bargaining chip. Robb Stark no longer has anything to use against me."
Arya swallowed hard. It sounded like she wouldn't be a cupbearer for much longer. Depending on the negotiations, she might not be alive for much longer, either.
For the rest of the day, Arya didn't dare ask about Tywin's plans. She kept her head down and her mouth shut. It wasn't that she wasn't curious. She wanted to know more than anything. But she was afraid for her family.
And for herself.
He noticed her silence. Tywin Lannister was a man who missed nothing. "You're quiet today. I can see you thinking about the future in your head."
"I'm not," Arya lied. "I'm not thinking about anything."
"You're lying to me again. What did I tell you about lying to me?"
Arya looked up at him. "Not to do it."
"Good. I'm glad your memory still works." Tywin pointed to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."
Arya slowly put down the pitcher and sat. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She had foolishly hoped he might forget about her if she was just quiet. She wished she could turn into a shadow. Shadows didn't have to face their fate.
"Ask the question you've been thinking about," Tywin ordered.
Arya bit her lip. "How... how can you end this war? You said you have more than one way."
"I do," Tywin confirmed.
"Is there a way that doesn't end with most of my family dead?" she asked, her hands shaking. If he said no, there was nothing she could do to stop him. Tywin was like a storm—unstoppable and without mercy.
Tywin watched her for a long moment. Finally, he gave a single nod. "Yes. There is a way."
Arya let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Of course, I don't know if your brother will take it. He's proven to be very stubborn," Tywin continued. "Before Jaime returned, I was planning to use a different option. But Catelyn Stark's love for her children has bought them one last chance to accept peace."
"Peace?" Arya asked.
"I'm willing to treat this Northern rebellion like Robert Baratheon treated the Greyjoy rebellion," Tywin explained. "It's much easier to keep a Stark in Winterfell than to risk dividing the North so close to winter. And speaking of the Greyjoys, I'd rather the Starks deal with their attack themselves. I don't want to waste soldiers on it. But if Robb Stark wants peace, he'll do it my way. No negotiation."
"And what is your way, my lord?" Arya asked.
"Guess," Tywin said.
It was another test. He loved testing her. Arya leaned forward. "The North would stay a part of the Seven Kingdoms, loyal to the king. Robb would be the Warden of the North, but he could never rise up again, or you'd replace him. If he accepted, he'd have to execute any Northern lords who didn't agree, to stop more fighting. And..." Arya trailed off.
Tywin tilted his head. "And?"
Arya's fists clenched. She remembered the Greyjoy rebellion. Her father had taken Theon as a ward to make sure it never happened again. Theon was a hostage in Winterfell.
"You would keep a hostage," Arya said. "To kill if my brother ever rebelled again."
A small, mirthless smile touched Tywin's face. "You are a smart girl."
He didn't have to say it. Arya knew he meant to take her as the hostage. She'd be called a ward, but she'd be a prisoner in King's Landing. She wasn't sure how kindly the Lannisters would treat a wolf in their home. They hadn't been kind to Sansa's wolf, or to Sansa herself.
"I will send a raven tonight," Tywin said. "The Young Wolf and I will meet. I'll bring you with me. You might be the difference between your brother choosing the right path or the wrong one. And I promise you... if he rejects my offer, he and your mother will die. It won't be clean. It won't be honorable. But it will end the war, and that's all I care about right now."
"If he chooses the wrong path, you'll have to kill me too," Arya muttered. "Because if they die, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to kill you."
It was a bold thing to say. Too bold. An icy silence filled the tent, but Arya didn't look away. Not this time.
"It so happens that if he refuses my offer, I will kill you, girl," Tywin said calmly. "So I suppose I won't have anything to fear."
Arya shivered. Of course. That's why he was bringing her—to use her death as a threat against Robb and her mother.
"If your brother had to choose between his sisters and his war, what would he choose?"
Arya still didn't know the answer.
She lifted her chin. "I'm not afraid to die."
"Yes, you are," Tywin said. "Everyone is afraid to die. And even if you weren't, you fear for your family's death. This isn't just about you. It's about them. Think about that before we ride tomorrow."
In that moment, Arya hated him. She hated the way he saw right through her. She had always wanted to be a hero from a story, completely unafraid to die a glorious death in battle.
But those were only stories. The real heroes probably screamed in terror when their end came.
Even her father had looked afraid.