CSI: Harrenhal
Title: CSI: Harrenhal (On ao3)
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV)
Characters: Arya Stark, Tywin Lannister
Warnings: Chose not to use
Spoilers: Set in season 2
Word Count: 1 704
Summary: Or: Arya Stark and Tywin Lannister: THEY FIGHT CRIME!
Author's Note: Thanks to Hokuto for the beta.
The last thing Arya Stark expected, after Tywin Lannister called her a girl in front of all and sundry, was to end up investigating murders alongside him, much less murders she was responsible for, and yet, there she is.
There's mud. Of course there's mud. They're in Harrenhal, after all. There's always mud in Harrenhal. And, of course, because Tywin Lannister is Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, son of Tytos and Arya Stark is just Arry, Lord of Nowhere, daughter of no one, she's the one on her knees in the mud.
At this point, she's just grateful it's only mud, not blood.
But no. Jaqen H'gar is a much more subtle killer than that. If it weren't for the Tickler's corpse lying in the deepest, coldest cave below Harrenhal, you would never know that someone had been killed here. Or, at least, you would never know that the Tickler had been killed here. There are twenty dead bodies hanging in the courtyard, after all.
"Well, girl? Have you found anything?" Tywin asks from up on his horse, and if that isn't a metaphor for their whole relationship, Arya doesn't know what is. (And seriously, who investigates crime on horseback?)
"No," she says, because she hasn't. Even if she had, that's what she'd say. Any evidence could possibly implicate Jaqen H'gar. Any implication of Jaqen H'gar could possibly implicate her, and while she would have a good reason for wanting the Tickler to die - he did almost torture Gendry (however loath to admit it she is, she's a little grateful to Tywin Lannister for saving her friend) - she has no such excuse with the other.
"It's been days. It would be surprising if you did," he says, getting off his horse and heading for the crypt.
Then why ask her to? Arya wonders. It could be because he wants her to remember who is in charge or because there might have been something, or, knowing him, both.
"My lord," Arya says, shortening the y a bit. She has to keep up her role as commoner's daughter, even if he's found her out. Perhaps especially since he has. "Shouldn't we look at the other crime scene first?"
Crime scene, she says. Why is this her life, she thinks.
"Very good, girl," he says. Another test. Of course, he's Tywin Lannister and he's never going to stop testing her. How stupid of her to forget, even for a moment.
They go to Lord Tywin's study. The body's been moved, of course, so there's nothing left of the murder except a drop of blood on the floor and a parchment under a cabinet.
The letter. She can't let Tywin find it. He saw her reading it and he must have noticed its disappearance. But what if he already has? Not saying anything would implicate her in that case. But if he hasn't and she did...
"M'lord," she says, stupid, she has to be consistent about this or he'll never believe her, "there's a letter over there."
"What about the crime, girl?" he asks.
"I don't know," she says, truthfully.
He looks disapproving at that. More than usual. "Bring me the letter and tell the smith to ready his forge."
Arya goes. It's best to do as he says - for now.
She finds Gendry in the forge. "Lord Tywin says you should ready the forge."
"Did he say why? Or what for?" Gendry asks, putting on his shirt.
Arry shakes her head.
Tywin walks in with her mid-shake and Gendry tangled up in his shirt. They are the perfect picture of competence. He raises one eyebrow.
"Gendry!" Arya hisses, elbowing him in the ribs.
Gendry's arms flail pitifully until he pushes his head through the collar and pales. "M'lord!"
Tywin's eyebrow doesn't go down. Uh oh. He hands Gendry Jaqen's blow dart. "Melt this," he says.
Arya's day just keeps getting weirder.
Gendry takes the blow dart and looks as confused as Arya feels. He puts it in the small oven-chimney hybrid that she thinks is called a bloomery.
She doesn't think it's supposed to release green smoke, though. The smith in Winterfell’s never did that, at least.
"I see," Tywin says and walks away.
Arya scrambles after him, leaving Gendry to deal with the green smoke and possibly ruined bloomery. She only very nearly stops herself from asking what the fuck that was all about.
"Did you know that wolfsbane, while one of the most powerful poisons known to man, becomes harmless when in contact with high enough temperatures and vaporises?" Tywin asks.
Arya nods. She didn't know and she's not sure she does now, but it doesn't do to show weakness to Tywin Lannister.
"Do you know what vaporises mean?"
She shakes her head.
"Then don't nod," he says. "It means turns to smoke."
Arya lifts her head to look at him. There's something strange in his voice that she can't quite place. There's nothing showing on his face, though. She's too busy trying to find something, anything, to go on, that she misses the fact that they're halfway up the stairs. On this staircase, it means that the steps almost blend together into a slope, stone melted smooth like glass.
She trips.
Tywin catches her by the collar. His hand is sure on her back as he rights her.
"Careful, Arya," he says.
She stills. "My name is Arry."
Tywin does this thing that he does, where his face doesn't change but he still looks like he might smile, any minute now. "Yes, of course."
Arya waits. She waits and waits and waits all the way back to Tywin's war council. She waits for a punchline that never comes.
If he knows she's Arya Stark (he knows she's a girl, high-born, from the North, named Arya, it's not that big a stretch), he's not doing anything about it. Frankly, that scares her more than the rest. Syrio taught her to always be on her toes, ready to react to anything, but she can't react to nothing.
She starts pouring wine for Kevan Lannister, looking at the map over his shoulder.
The armies had moved again. Robb's forces, token shaped like wolves, are closer to Casterly Rock. From between Clegane and the empty chair next to him, she sees that the lion forces around Harrenhal have gotten bigger.
She lifts her eyes as she goes on to fill the next glass, and finds Tywin looking straight at her. He saw her looking at the map, he can't not have, but all he does is bow his head a little. It's so minute that with anyone else, she'd think she'd imagined it. But he's not anyone else. He's Tywin Lannister and the gods forbid he showed emotion, much less approval.
She nods back, just as slightly.
"Pour, girl," the knight says, she does and Tywin frowns. Everything is back to normal.
Until the next day, when Tywin goes back to his delusions of fighting crime. Only this time, instead of going after Gendry, he's going after Hot Pie.
Or, well, he wants to see the contents of the kitchen's pantry and it just so happens that it's when Hot Pie is there.
What an amazing coincidence.
Arya grits her teeth.
"Girl," Tywin says and it takes her half a second to realise he's talking to her. He's not calling her 'Arry' or even 'Arya', but why? She'll have to think about it later. "Get me that pot."
"Which one?" she asks.
"That one," he says, pointing at a pot at the bottom of the cabinet. Arya gets it. It's full of yellow and blue flowers and smells like nothing at all. She hands it to him.
He sniffs it. "As I thought."
Hot Pie mouths 'what' at Arya. She shrugs. She has no idea either.
"What's this, boy?" Tywin asks Hot Pie.
"I don't know," Hot Pie says, "milord."
Tywin looks smug at that. Arya pulls a face at him behind his back.
"This is westerosi wolfsbane," he says. "It does not smell like anything, unlike the Essos variation. It is also a much less potent poison."
Oh.
She has to warn Jaqen as soon as possible. He is the only Braavosi with an accent in Harrenhal and that means he's next, if Tywin even bothers with interrogation. But surely he'd have been noticed by now? She's been around him as much as she has been around Hot Pie.
Or Tywin knows already.
In that case if she does anything, that's as bad as an admission of guilt. At any rate, Jaqen can take care of himself. A girl owes a man one more name, too.
She has to trust that Jaqen can protect himself and concentrate on protecting Gendry and Hot Pie. No one is messing with her pack.
Where did that thought come from?
And why is Hot Pie part of her pack?
She's so lost in thought as she follows Tywin that she doesn't realise he's led her back to the council chamber. She needs to do something about losing track of time like that.
"We'll talk later," Tywin says. Arya nods. She can understand why crimefighting with the aid of a young girl isn't something he would like others to know about.
The war meeting starts again. As far as Arya can tell, the only ones whose contributions make sense are Tywin, Kevan and occasionally the man in black at the far end of the table. Everyone else is either a traitor or incompetent, but it doesn't seem like Tywin to suffer both, so what's he going for?
The council ends.
She hasn’t followed what the plan was. There is war in King’s Landing and war with the Starks. Only one of those matters to her. If only she could remember what was said, she’d know how to act. Pay attention, Tywin says inside her mind.
She does not like that there is a Tywin inside her head, but he does give good advice.
Tomorrow, Lannister forces march out to she knows not where and tonight she makes her escape. Goodbye Harrenhal, goodbye crimefighting, goodbye Tywin! She’ll be sorry to see him go.
Not. She’ll not be sorry to see him go.
This entry was originally posted at http://dhampyresa.dreamwidth.org/25450.html and has
comments over there.
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV)
Characters: Arya Stark, Tywin Lannister
Warnings: Chose not to use
Spoilers: Set in season 2
Word Count: 1 704
Summary: Or: Arya Stark and Tywin Lannister: THEY FIGHT CRIME!
Author's Note: Thanks to Hokuto for the beta.
The last thing Arya Stark expected, after Tywin Lannister called her a girl in front of all and sundry, was to end up investigating murders alongside him, much less murders she was responsible for, and yet, there she is.
There's mud. Of course there's mud. They're in Harrenhal, after all. There's always mud in Harrenhal. And, of course, because Tywin Lannister is Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, son of Tytos and Arya Stark is just Arry, Lord of Nowhere, daughter of no one, she's the one on her knees in the mud.
At this point, she's just grateful it's only mud, not blood.
But no. Jaqen H'gar is a much more subtle killer than that. If it weren't for the Tickler's corpse lying in the deepest, coldest cave below Harrenhal, you would never know that someone had been killed here. Or, at least, you would never know that the Tickler had been killed here. There are twenty dead bodies hanging in the courtyard, after all.
"Well, girl? Have you found anything?" Tywin asks from up on his horse, and if that isn't a metaphor for their whole relationship, Arya doesn't know what is. (And seriously, who investigates crime on horseback?)
"No," she says, because she hasn't. Even if she had, that's what she'd say. Any evidence could possibly implicate Jaqen H'gar. Any implication of Jaqen H'gar could possibly implicate her, and while she would have a good reason for wanting the Tickler to die - he did almost torture Gendry (however loath to admit it she is, she's a little grateful to Tywin Lannister for saving her friend) - she has no such excuse with the other.
"It's been days. It would be surprising if you did," he says, getting off his horse and heading for the crypt.
Then why ask her to? Arya wonders. It could be because he wants her to remember who is in charge or because there might have been something, or, knowing him, both.
"My lord," Arya says, shortening the y a bit. She has to keep up her role as commoner's daughter, even if he's found her out. Perhaps especially since he has. "Shouldn't we look at the other crime scene first?"
Crime scene, she says. Why is this her life, she thinks.
"Very good, girl," he says. Another test. Of course, he's Tywin Lannister and he's never going to stop testing her. How stupid of her to forget, even for a moment.
They go to Lord Tywin's study. The body's been moved, of course, so there's nothing left of the murder except a drop of blood on the floor and a parchment under a cabinet.
The letter. She can't let Tywin find it. He saw her reading it and he must have noticed its disappearance. But what if he already has? Not saying anything would implicate her in that case. But if he hasn't and she did...
"M'lord," she says, stupid, she has to be consistent about this or he'll never believe her, "there's a letter over there."
"What about the crime, girl?" he asks.
"I don't know," she says, truthfully.
He looks disapproving at that. More than usual. "Bring me the letter and tell the smith to ready his forge."
Arya goes. It's best to do as he says - for now.
She finds Gendry in the forge. "Lord Tywin says you should ready the forge."
"Did he say why? Or what for?" Gendry asks, putting on his shirt.
Arry shakes her head.
Tywin walks in with her mid-shake and Gendry tangled up in his shirt. They are the perfect picture of competence. He raises one eyebrow.
"Gendry!" Arya hisses, elbowing him in the ribs.
Gendry's arms flail pitifully until he pushes his head through the collar and pales. "M'lord!"
Tywin's eyebrow doesn't go down. Uh oh. He hands Gendry Jaqen's blow dart. "Melt this," he says.
Arya's day just keeps getting weirder.
Gendry takes the blow dart and looks as confused as Arya feels. He puts it in the small oven-chimney hybrid that she thinks is called a bloomery.
She doesn't think it's supposed to release green smoke, though. The smith in Winterfell’s never did that, at least.
"I see," Tywin says and walks away.
Arya scrambles after him, leaving Gendry to deal with the green smoke and possibly ruined bloomery. She only very nearly stops herself from asking what the fuck that was all about.
"Did you know that wolfsbane, while one of the most powerful poisons known to man, becomes harmless when in contact with high enough temperatures and vaporises?" Tywin asks.
Arya nods. She didn't know and she's not sure she does now, but it doesn't do to show weakness to Tywin Lannister.
"Do you know what vaporises mean?"
She shakes her head.
"Then don't nod," he says. "It means turns to smoke."
Arya lifts her head to look at him. There's something strange in his voice that she can't quite place. There's nothing showing on his face, though. She's too busy trying to find something, anything, to go on, that she misses the fact that they're halfway up the stairs. On this staircase, it means that the steps almost blend together into a slope, stone melted smooth like glass.
She trips.
Tywin catches her by the collar. His hand is sure on her back as he rights her.
"Careful, Arya," he says.
She stills. "My name is Arry."
Tywin does this thing that he does, where his face doesn't change but he still looks like he might smile, any minute now. "Yes, of course."
Arya waits. She waits and waits and waits all the way back to Tywin's war council. She waits for a punchline that never comes.
If he knows she's Arya Stark (he knows she's a girl, high-born, from the North, named Arya, it's not that big a stretch), he's not doing anything about it. Frankly, that scares her more than the rest. Syrio taught her to always be on her toes, ready to react to anything, but she can't react to nothing.
She starts pouring wine for Kevan Lannister, looking at the map over his shoulder.
The armies had moved again. Robb's forces, token shaped like wolves, are closer to Casterly Rock. From between Clegane and the empty chair next to him, she sees that the lion forces around Harrenhal have gotten bigger.
She lifts her eyes as she goes on to fill the next glass, and finds Tywin looking straight at her. He saw her looking at the map, he can't not have, but all he does is bow his head a little. It's so minute that with anyone else, she'd think she'd imagined it. But he's not anyone else. He's Tywin Lannister and the gods forbid he showed emotion, much less approval.
She nods back, just as slightly.
"Pour, girl," the knight says, she does and Tywin frowns. Everything is back to normal.
Until the next day, when Tywin goes back to his delusions of fighting crime. Only this time, instead of going after Gendry, he's going after Hot Pie.
Or, well, he wants to see the contents of the kitchen's pantry and it just so happens that it's when Hot Pie is there.
What an amazing coincidence.
Arya grits her teeth.
"Girl," Tywin says and it takes her half a second to realise he's talking to her. He's not calling her 'Arry' or even 'Arya', but why? She'll have to think about it later. "Get me that pot."
"Which one?" she asks.
"That one," he says, pointing at a pot at the bottom of the cabinet. Arya gets it. It's full of yellow and blue flowers and smells like nothing at all. She hands it to him.
He sniffs it. "As I thought."
Hot Pie mouths 'what' at Arya. She shrugs. She has no idea either.
"What's this, boy?" Tywin asks Hot Pie.
"I don't know," Hot Pie says, "milord."
Tywin looks smug at that. Arya pulls a face at him behind his back.
"This is westerosi wolfsbane," he says. "It does not smell like anything, unlike the Essos variation. It is also a much less potent poison."
Oh.
She has to warn Jaqen as soon as possible. He is the only Braavosi with an accent in Harrenhal and that means he's next, if Tywin even bothers with interrogation. But surely he'd have been noticed by now? She's been around him as much as she has been around Hot Pie.
Or Tywin knows already.
In that case if she does anything, that's as bad as an admission of guilt. At any rate, Jaqen can take care of himself. A girl owes a man one more name, too.
She has to trust that Jaqen can protect himself and concentrate on protecting Gendry and Hot Pie. No one is messing with her pack.
Where did that thought come from?
And why is Hot Pie part of her pack?
She's so lost in thought as she follows Tywin that she doesn't realise he's led her back to the council chamber. She needs to do something about losing track of time like that.
"We'll talk later," Tywin says. Arya nods. She can understand why crimefighting with the aid of a young girl isn't something he would like others to know about.
The war meeting starts again. As far as Arya can tell, the only ones whose contributions make sense are Tywin, Kevan and occasionally the man in black at the far end of the table. Everyone else is either a traitor or incompetent, but it doesn't seem like Tywin to suffer both, so what's he going for?
The council ends.
She hasn’t followed what the plan was. There is war in King’s Landing and war with the Starks. Only one of those matters to her. If only she could remember what was said, she’d know how to act. Pay attention, Tywin says inside her mind.
She does not like that there is a Tywin inside her head, but he does give good advice.
Tomorrow, Lannister forces march out to she knows not where and tonight she makes her escape. Goodbye Harrenhal, goodbye crimefighting, goodbye Tywin! She’ll be sorry to see him go.
Not. She’ll not be sorry to see him go.
This entry was originally posted at http://dhampyresa.dreamwidth.org/25450.html and has
comments over there.