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Lannister's Lost Love
The grand halls of Casterly Rock resounded with the harmonious symphony of clinking cutlery and the gentle hum of conversations as the illustrious Lannister family gathered for their customary evening repast. Lord Tywin Lannister, his countenance stoic and impenetrable, occupied the seat at the head of the table, his commanding presence a testament to his unwavering authority. Flanking him on either side were his cherished grandchildren, Myrcella and Tommen, now matured into inquisitive young adults, their minds brimming with the captivating tales of their ancestral lineage. Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion sat further down the table, enamored in their own exchanges. Thankfully, for Myrcella and Tommen, Joffrey had chosen to stay in King's Landing under their father, King Robert's care.
As the opulent feast unfolded, Tommen, his youthful innocence radiating from his emerald eyes, cast a sidelong glance at his grandfather, summoning the courage to delve into uncharted territory. "Grandfather," he began, his voice laced with a tinge of trepidation, "may I inquire about something?"
One elegant eyebrow arched in response, Tywin's penetrating gaze fixating on the young prince. "Certainly, Tommen. Speak your mind."
Drawing in a deep breath, Tommen's words cascaded forth in a torrent. "What befell Princess Visenya, Grandfather? You were there, before and during the Rebellion... Was she slain in the battle for the Red Keep? I saw her name on a tapestry but so much was lost..."
A momentary pause hung in the air, as though time itself stood still. Cersei, seated nearby, exchanged a startled glance with Jaime, their eyes widening in surprise. The subject of Visenya had seldom been broached in their presence, a tacit agreement forged among them to inter the anguish of her absence deep within their souls. In order to protect their father, and their own hearts, nearly all records of the Targaryean Princess had been hidden or destroyed.
Tywin's visage remained unyielding, concealing the tumult that surged within him. Composing himself, he sought an explanation that eluded him. "Visenya... She was compelled to return to her father, King Aerys," he responded, his voice measured. "The circumstances surrounding her departure were... complex."
"But... why was she not with him to begin with? Was she fighting like her ancestor, The Warrior Queen?" Tommen's eyes lit up at the idea of a Warrior Queen. The boy had always been delighted and idealistic about tales of Knights and Dragon Queens. He did not notice his uncle Tyrion wince slightly at the question, his small hands tightening around the cutlery.
"No. She was married to your grandfather, Sweetling." It is Cersei's voice that breaks the tension, her tone holding a modicum of frost as she attempts to control her emotions.
Myrcella, her youthful spirit ablaze with curiosity, pressed onward. "But why, Grandfather? What befell her afterward? Did she ever find her way back to us?"
A flicker of vulnerability danced across Tywin's steely gaze, unveiling the depths of his emotions. He shook his head slightly. "I do not know, Myrcella. After the war, she vanished. I have scoured the realms in search of her, but the winds have borne her secrets far beyond my grasp."
Silence descended upon the table, laden with unspoken sentiments. Jaime and Cersei exchanged glances, their eyes filled with a mixture of grief and astonishment. Their father's admission shattered the facade of invincibility they had woven around him, exposing the unhealed wounds that time had failed to mend.
Tommen's voice broke the stillness, tinged with a profound melancholy. "I yearn to meet her, Grandfather. I yearn to have known her, to have experienced her presence within our family."
Tywin's gaze softened as he beheld his grandchildren, glimpsing the ethereal essence of Visenya flickering within their eyes. A pang of regret flickered across his countenance, lamenting the loss they all shared. "I share your sentiments, dear Tommen. Yet, some things lie beyond our control, and the capricious winds of destiny steer us toward divergent shores."
The weight of unvoiced longing permeated the air, an unspoken tribute to the woman who had touched their lives and left an indelible imprint upon their hearts. In that profound moment, the Lannister family, bound by their shared yearning, found solace in their collective sorrow.
And as the echoes of their conversation dissipated into the expansive halls of Casterly Rock, the memory of Princess Visenya Targaryen, lost but never forgotten, became interwoven into the fabric of their legacy—a poignant reminder of love's fragility and the enduring power of familial bonds.
***
It was late into the night when Tywin stood in front of his fireplace. It burned hot in the Lord of Casterly Rock's chambers every night for almost twenty years. His emerald eyes shine with shades of black and gold reflecting in their pools.
The dragon egg has lain in the flames since his wedding night. Any chance of it hatching died with his love but he keeps it. His secret reminder of his lost love.
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