Tywin Lannister, Lord Paramount of the west, Lord of the Westerlands, former hand of the King, and now widower at the same time as becoming a father of 4. He had sent them away, all the servants and the maester and the guards, even his eldest children who would not stop pestering him on the state of their mother, of his wife. He stood alone, in a room with a corpse made such by two children, a second pair of twins. Had it been just that, so simple as to have another set, perhaps Tywin could have stomached this loss, given time, given something useful in exchange for this loss that threatened his stone like face.

Mismatched eyes, twisted body, a head that no doubt brought the strain that killed Joanna. A dwarf, a crude misshapen slap to the face by the seven who are one. He could hear it now, the laughter, the jeers, the name of his house tainted by this thing that had no right to exist. He was considering letting the sea take it to whatever the Iron born called a god, when the second shape made a grunt and shifted.

It was normal, beautiful in contrast to its twin. No blemish, no misshapen features, nothing but an average baby. Tywin wondered what gift he had that made Joanna’s death a worthy price, what talent or trait would pay for the blood spilled. Tywin let out a grunt and set the two aside, walking to his wife. His fist clenched until his knuckles were white, his nails threatening to cut through his palms, before with a shudder the tension left him and the Lord of the Rock turned and exited the room.

“Clean her, prepare her for the funeral.”

“Yes Lord Tywin…and the infants Mi’lord?”

Tywin shot a glare down at the nursemaid, who flinched away and was about to scurry off when Tywin said “Bathe them, dress them, whatever needs to be done. I will retire to my solar, do not wake me unless there is something urgent.” He said to the servants, before walking away, the air cold in his wake.

Though not spoken of, for fear of earning the Old Lion’s Ire and from understanding a husband’s grief, it took Tywin a full day before he remembered to name the children.

The dwarf would be named Tyrion, weather to grant the child the mercy of a proper Lannister name or to attach the named of a tormentor to him, no one could say save Tywin.

The other child, the third born son, what was their name?

>Write in a proper Lannister name.