Chapter 6: At the Twins

She hated the Twins for all that the pile of stones represented.

For Genna Lannister, the place was a waste of space that smelled like shit more than being a proper fortress.

However, she knew that these were only her feelings, not reality because the home of the Freys reminded her that she was married to her worthless husband, and bore children that would not do much good in the world.

Her father, the Laughing Lion Tytos Lannister, was laughed at not laughed with. Although she loved her father dearly, she was aware that Tywin’s rigid personality was a reaction to their disappointing sire.

That was through no true fault of his own. Many families in their area had almost cheated their house out of its immense fortune. Having working gold mines were only useful so long as they continued producing the blasted mineral. As such, the family needed to have a more miserly approach than that most would deem prudent.

Loaning money made them a lesser version of the Iron Bank, but also controlling much of the trade in the Westerlands had allowed their family to create a wealth challenged only by a few in the entire country.

That was a legacy built on the back of Tywin’s back, or so Genna’s brother thought. The mines did the foundational work, the family backed him completely, which led to a certain level of support that one could not buy, and then (of course) so many other houses feared Tywin.

Genna’s husband might have been a Frey, but he too feared Tywin (little toad of a man that he was), so did Old Walder Frey, and the sons of Genna and Emmon—Cleos, Lyonel, Tion, and Walder—would not amount to much.

Some marriages brought families closer together, and made their houses stronger for the union. Most marriages merely created the illusion of unity while loyalties were divided. In the past, from Blackfyre rebellions to nine-penny kings, and so on and forth, history was made by many but only a select few were remembered. That fact was how Tywin would be remembered. He was held up by his family, but as she thought of that very family she mentally lambasted, she wondered if he did not deserve that honor.

She thought of her worthless stump of a husband, and then of her disappointing sons. They were Frey boys through and through. They would never amount to much as they were not amounting to much. Maybe they would be knighted, but then what? Great wars came and went, and the Freys, despite their position, would not rise higher than they were.

That was why Lord Walder enjoyed raising his tolls. They had to be paid. Genna could not recall the Frey words (or even if there were Frey words), but if there were any, they would be similar to the Lannister common phrase of a Lannister always pays their debts; she thought of something like ... A toll must always be paid.

Laughing lightly at her own private joke, she wished her sons had amounted to something other than some lion’s brood. In years back, had she been a more yielding age where she might bear more children and the Targaryens were still alive, she might have had one of their bastards. The features of some Lannisters and the House of Fire and Blood matched well, from what many had said.

She let out a sigh. Sadly, the blood of the dragon was gone. Of the great houses, the Lannisters, Tyrells, Starks, and Baratheon were the greats, but she could not know which would really change the course of history.

Her brother would, certainly, but who else. Her thoughts went to Jon in his own carriage. Genna knew that he would amount to something in Westeros, if not the entire world. Tywin was lying about that why he wanted the boy, but even she could see something special in this ... pseudo-nephew or imagined-foster son of hers.

He was quick and smart. He was eager to please. In him, she thought of her resources, of the many Freys that existed in the country, and of how the game of thrones was always being played.

A Stark with certain financial and familial ties to the south could be useful. Cersei just gave birth to a girl, but had not a girl been born to Merrett Frey and Mariya Darry? Thinking on the matter, Genna wondered if she might need to dirty her own hands, so that the game might be better played.

Not just for her house, but herself as well. A caring and doting aunt, who he was not related to by blood, might prove useful to little Jon, but if Genna could foster a marriage to an attractive Frey girl, that might give her some indispensable position to Jon.

While she did not know Tywin’s true plans for the boy, she did know that he did not waste his time on people unless he believed they were important and could help him in the years to come. This ideal was so ingrained in him that she watched him discard his own perfect son of Jaime when he joined the King’s Guard.

Jon could be much more than just a legitimized Stark. There was more to him. Genna knew that in her bones based on this logic. As such, she would not allow her position in his life to go away.

Oh yes!

Her tight cunt was everything. That was all Old Walder Frey could think about as he fucked his wife’s tight hole. Annara Farring was the Seventh Lady Frey, and to him, they were all replaceable, walking wombs.

He needed progeny, and by the fucking Seven, did he enjoy making them.

Licking at her tits like a dog does a meal, he rutted into her like a stallion who had not been a prize in his youth, and time had only stripped him free of any delusions that he was skilled in his motions.

But what the fuck did he care?

She was a fat ass, plump tits, and a leaking, compressed orifice waiting to be stretched by him.

Thinking of how Catelyn Stark and Tywin Lannister were coming to his door even now made the old man more rigid than he had been in years.

Thrusting into her, he could hear his balls slapping against her ass while he was taking the reward of being the Lord of the Twins.

Some called him the Late Lord Frey, but when he came, he arrived just when he meant to.

He did not last long, thinking of those noble fucks coming to his door. They would plead to him for better treatment more than they might that fat, useless king who barely won some war.

He grimaced as his load shot deep into the woman.

Drool was coming down his face when he said, “Be a good dear, and clean me up. I have guests.”

He could see her grimace at seeing his naked, sweaty wrinkled form.

What did he care? She had taken his seed. She would bear him more children, and when she was done being useful, he would discard her like the useless slut of a bitch that she was.

Unable to contain himself, Walder Frey laughed, and he wondered if he might get a younger wife after this one.

Tywin Lannister disliked the Twins.

He had a disgusted loathing for the building, the lazy lord who ruled it, and most of all, the tolls demanded by the man who believed two ugly towers and a bridge gave him the right to bleed half the realm.

The Freys had always been ambitious in the worst of ways. They had the manners of men who possessed little in terms of value when it came to production of minerals, grain, barley, meat, or lumber. They were a parasite of a family whose very enterprise was limited to the nature of their bridge being necessary.

Starks at least had the benefit of honor. House Strong made the strongest knights and greatest warriors, so were useful in war. The Tyrells grew food. Old Man Frey had a bridge necessary for commerce that would require not one but two armies to capture the damned thing. If one army sieged from either side, he would just use the other side to obtain resources.

That fact was all the Freys had. There were something near a thousand Freys out in the world, but when it came to Robert’s Rebellion, they showed up to a crucial battle at the end, which coined Lord Tully calling Old Walder Frey, the Late Lord Frey, and what could this great lord do to recompense that slight? He had raised his prices again.