37 Chapter 35

So this story continues to be bloody damn hard to write. Not gonna sugarcoat it. I don't know if people are still with me on this and I don't have a posting schedule. Some chapters are just difficult and I don't know if it's the pacing or the plot that I'm struggling with.

I've changed Elia a bit from canon, to make her less sickly. It works for this story.

Lannister camp – Tygett

As they rode back to the Lannister camp, Tygett could feel his thoughts, pushing against one another, all jumbled up in his head, almost tripping over one another for supremacy. He fought to find one coherent thought that he might latch onto and landed on the most spectacular one of all.

He couldn't help but gaze at his eldest brother and his wife – Sansa … from the future.

It was incredulous. Unbelievable. Surely a jape.

And yet, the things she knew. How she knew them. What she knew. There was no denying that her knowledge of not only the people of this time but of things not yet known in this world lent credibility to her story.

The woman was madly in love with his brother, which was almost as baffling as the fact that she seemed to have come through time to be with Tywin. Leave it to the Great Lion to defy all logic and convention regarding his second marriage. The man was already impossible to live up to, and this hardly did anything to make the man seem less God-like than he already was. A wife from the future of all things!

For thirty-three years, Tygett had lived his life half in awe and half in utter frustration at being the younger brother of the mighty Tywin. His brother had no idea the long shadow that he cast – the sheer impossibility of living up to his reputation. Tygett had fought and railed against Tywin for years – all while desperate for his brother's love and acceptance.

Until a year ago, their relationship had been bitter, angry, estranged.

Tygett had watched his brother, never a demonstrative man, become harsher and more distant after the death of his first wife, Lady Joanna. Tywin had barely had his thirty-first nameday when Tyrion had torn Lady Joanna apart.

Tygett had been twenty-one and had been horrified at the entire event. Not only for the loss of Lady Joanna, whom was a cousin and a consummate Lannister, but for his brother. There weren't many things in this world that made Tywin happy, but Joanna had been one of them. Her death had changed Tywin into an even colder man than he'd already been – one who'd shut out his family entirely for the decade following his wife's death.

And then, things had begun to change. At the time, Tyg hadn't known what the impetus behind the change was – only that for the first time, Tywin began to open up to his siblings.

He shared with them the horror of Aerys' raping Joanna and why he'd disliked Tyrion so vehemently.

He'd finally seen his daughter, a vile creature, for what she was and had locked her in her room, attempting to wrest some form of control over her.

And he had expressed his concern for becoming involved in the rebellion due to Jaime's position as Kingsguard.

When they'd been told they were riding for Riverrun, Tygett never would have guessed it was for Tywin to remarry, thinking only that Tywin was finally willing to throw in with the rebels.

He'd been suspicious of Lady Sansa at first but had soon grown to like her. When she'd rushed out of their tent demanding Tywin in nothing more than her bedclothes, and then ridden into the hills to find the lion cubs, Tygett knew that the fortunes of his House had changed. His brother was a different man, and even growing up watching Tywin and Joanna fall in love, he knew what his brother felt for his new wife exceeded whatever Tywin had with Joanna. Which was saying something indeed. Tywin and Joanna had been a true love match and never in his life had Tyg thought he'd see his brother willing to risk his heart again.

For the first time in his life, as he watched Sansa bring Tywin back to them, Tygett began to think that there might be an advantage to being married if he could find a woman like Sansa. The gods knew that Tywin harped on him enough to do his duty and marry but he'd never seen the point. Not until Sansa had come into their lives.

The Red Dinner had been an abomination. He missed Gerion with his easy smile and quirk wit, but it had galvanized his brother to call his banners and finally march their army to King's Landing, to get involved in this rebellion instead of sitting on the sidelines.

As they rode back to camp, Tygett went over all the events of the past year, so many things making sense now.

Why Sansa insisted upon cleanliness. Her intelligence. Why his brother was so fucking smitten. She was utterly perfect, not only for Tywin but for House Lannister.

And never had Tygett thought he'd find someone who reminded him of Sansa. Not that he was in love with Sansa. She was like a beloved sister to him and one he would die to defend. He loved her; but not like that.

Then, Tywin had sent him to secure Jaime, and nothing in Tygett's life had ever been the same.

He'd come upon the Princess of the realm, clutching her daughter to her chest, her pregnant stomach heaving, as Jaime had fought off men that Aerys had sent to capture them. She'd been defiant in the face of overwhelming odds.

Elia Martell Targaryen. A dark-haired beauty that had been married to Prince Rhaegar.

Instantly Tygett had been drawn to the woman, and when Rhaenys clung to him, he felt worthy for the first time in his life – that his sword might be used to protect those weaker than him.

With her in their camp and under Lannister protection, he'd watched as Elia had progressed with her pregnancy, admiring her stubbornness and her grit. She hadn't complained living in a camp for two months and had forged a friendship with Sansa that Tygett hoped would survive the upcoming politics.

She'd given birth, alone, without anyone she trusted by her side, and hearing her screams as he'd held Rhaenys that night would haunt Tyg for the rest of his life. He had no idea how women did it!

She'd stoically accepted the news of her husband's death from Sansa and then only pushed for her son's claim once before logic and reason seemed to take over, and she realized the precarious position she was in.

Then, Tygett had listened to Elia wistfully speak of love – of how much she envied Sansa and Tywin and their marriage. There were times that Tygett did not understand how Tywin had managed to have two good women fall madly in love with him. Say what you will about Tywin Lannister, but when he loved; he did so thoroughly and deeply. There were no half measures. The man didn't care who knew that he loved his wife and proudly proclaimed it in word and deed.

It stirred something in Tygett, who, until this point in his life, had done his best to avoid that entanglement. Both his brothers had married and produced offspring. The Lannister legacy was well in hand, and with Tywin and Sansa already pregnant, Tygett didn't doubt his brother would fill the Rock with his children. Added to all of that, Tywin had his heir back. Surely the last thing any of them needed was Tygett being miserable, locked in a loveless marriage simply to appease the mighty Tywin.

But all Tygett's bluster about never marrying and not wanting to be shackled to a woman had begun to change the moment he'd met Elia Martell.

Which was utterly ridiculous. She was a princess! She had been set to be Queen of the realm, before the rebellion. She was a prize unlike any other – a woman with almost no equal.

And he was a third son with no castle, no gold, and no claim of his own. The thought of them, together, was laughable.

Still, even knowing it could never happen, it hadn't stopped the thoughts of her from finding him late at night in his bed when he thought of Elia's long dark hair and sparkling eyes before he closed his own.

It hadn't prevented him from becoming closer with her children and seeking her out.

It hadn't stopped him from dreaming of things that could never be his.

Now, days later, Sansa had challenged him about marrying for love.

And like a burr, he could not extract that thought from his head.

Love.

Something he'd never thought would be his, now tantalizingly close. Was it possible? Was he a fool to dismiss it so quickly?

They rode back into camp to great fanfare, having located Jaime and Kevan as well, so all the Lannisters were here. They made an impressive sight, and while Tygett enjoyed his family, what he needed now was space. Let others fete Tywin for his accomplishments and feed his brother's healthy ego. Tyg needed time alone.

"I will join you tomorrow," he stated, sliding off his mount and handing his reigns to one of the pages that hovered. The boy looked at him with hero-worship, and Tyg made a point to spend some time training in the upcoming days.

He'd overheard Sansa tell Tywin that she would write to Sandor immediately, that he should come to King's Landing and bring the cubs. Oddly enough, Tygett missed the young Lord Clegane and the lion cubs and looked forward to Sandor's presence in the capital. He'd be a good distraction from these thoughts of love and marriage.

As he turned from his family, he caught the smug look in Tywin's eyes and the delight in Sansa's.

"Tell Lady Elia we say hello," she called, smiling broadly at him and giving him a little wave. Just like a cheeky little sister would.

Tygett glowered at her and stomped away, hating he was so transparent in his affections. He'd never been this twisted up over a woman in his entire life! Whores demanded nothing more than his gold and his cock.

But that would never do for someone of Elia Martell's station. She always seemed to want more from him, asking him how he was feeling or questioning him about things in camp. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart. And curious. And intelligent, with a sweet wit.

And seven fucking hells if he didn't like that about her – her intelligence. She reminded him of Sansa to a certain degree, fearless in the face of overwhelming odds and fiercely protective of her children. She hadn't said much about her time in King's Landing, but he didn't think it was happy.

So instead of going to her, he purposefully went to his tent, attempting to prove to himself that the last thing he needed was to delude himself that Elia Martell saw him as anything more than a sword that would keep her and her children safe in these uncertain times.

He spent the night attempting to dull his thoughts of her with good Arbor Gold. Like all Lannisters, Tygett was used to only the best and even in a war camp, he downed several flasks. But alone, that night, the dreams came, relentless. He was happy. And he was hers.

Tygett avoided Elia and the children the next day. And the next. Along with Sansa and Lady Catelyn. It was easy enough. There were endless tasks to do.

Kevan, who'd been near exhaustion, had slept for almost an entire day, leaving the Red Keep and the wildfire that still smouldered to him and Jaime to oversee. Tygett didn't mind the work. It was relatively mindless, and he was in no mood to deal with people.

Instead, Tywin, Sansa, Kevan, and Oberyn Martell and Stannis Baratheon saw to them. The crowds were getting restless, and a few of the wealthier citizens had been allowed inside the city to verify Tywin's accounts that nothing had been looted or destroyed in their absence. It wouldn't be long before they would allow everyone back inside the city walls, and then the real work would begin – the work of House Lannister ruling the Seven.

Word came that Lord Eddard Stark was mere days away, leading the last of Robert's vanguard to the city, and Tygett knew when he arrived, Aerys would finally be dealt with.

He didn't know much about the man from the North, but he'd come to respect Catelyn Stark over the course of the past few months. She wasn't as happy as Sansa, not as confident and carefree. But she seemed a good, loyal woman and had held to her vows to House Lannister. Alliances had been built on far less, Tygett knew.

When word came that the last of the flames had been extinguished, Jaime and Tygett took their leave from Aegon's High Hill to report to Tywin. It would be welcome news for all of them, as living in a tent had worn thin. There had been no word as to where Elia might end up. Tygett was aware that the Martell mansion was in no condition to receive her, and so an idea formed – one he thought was half madness, half brilliant.

He rode into the Lannister camp to far less fanfare than he had a few days ago. By now, life had become rote, and many were waiting for the events that would mark House Lannister's official rise to rule – the trial and death of Aerys, the coronation of Tywin and Sansa and then a conclave, to decide the future of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Uncle, will you join us for supper tonight?" Jaime asked a hopeful note in his voice.

Tygett was no fool. He knew that Gerion had been the favoured uncle, but he'd grown closer to Jaime since they'd gotten him back.

Tygett nodded, "Aye, I'll be there. Tell Sansa, so she doesn't fret."

She'd shown up at his tent when he'd gone his separate ways a few days ago, concerned for him. The woman was a marvel, and Tygett loved her dearly. But there was another on his mind – one he'd been avoiding since Sansa had spoken to him about love and challenged his long-held beliefs that it was not for him.

As he approached Elia's tent, he noticed the guards he had personally assigned, standing vigil. That pleased him, although he scowled when he saw other men nearby lurking.

There was no denying that she was a draw and that here, in the middle of the Lannister camp, it only made her all that more tempting.

There were some that would want her head, if for nothing else than she had the misfortune of being married to Rhaegar, who had lost the rebellion.

There would be those that would claim that she as much as a dragon as her husband and would want her blood and that of her children to pay for the perceived crimes committed by her husband and her goodfather. Those that wanted revenge against House Targaryen would have no issue taking their pound of flesh from the Princess.

Others would see her as a prize – one they would wish to claim for themselves. She might be seen as vulnerable – a high-born woman alone, with her young children by her side.

There would be others that would want to rape her, to take what was not theirs. Such was the way of men, especially in war.

Tygett knew those in their camp were loyal to House Lannister, but they were not all good men. There had been some that had been upset when Tywin had declared no raping, looting or pillaging upon taking King's Landing.

Tygett meant to ensure that no one harmed her or her children while she was in Lannister care. Elia had tough choices ahead of her. Her brothers might seek to use her son to press for a claim to the Iron Throne. His brother would seek Elia's bended knee and allegiance. Her loyalty was sure to be tested in the coming weeks.

It was no secret that of all the Lannisters, Tygett had unfettered access to Elia. Those guarding her stood aside as he opened the flap to the tent to immediately find himself with a handful of the little girl in his arms.

How Rhaenys found it comfortable for him to hold her when he was in full armour, Tygett did not know. But she did.

"Uncle Lion, home!" she lisped happily and then stuck her thumb in her mouth and proceeded to suck, resting her head against his chest.

Tygett chuckled, something warm clutching at his heart. It was unfair this child would have no father, and yet, there was a part of Tygett that wondered how good a father Rhaegar might have made. Elia made it seem like her marriage was a not particularly happy one, and with Aerys as a grandfather, well, one might argue that little Rhaenys was better off with those two men dead.

No matter how mixed up Tygett felt about Elia, and he loved Rhae.

"I am home. Were you good for your mother?" he asked, and Rhae batted her purple eyes at him.

"Mama," she babbled and squirmed, so he set her down, just as Elia emerged from her bedroom.

Tygett stilled, gazing at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow at him. Since he'd last visited her with Sansa, she'd seemed to regain some of her strength, although she was by no means at full health. But her eyes were bright and her energy seemed much better.

Still, she only went as far as to sit at the dining table in a comfortable but elegantly appointed chair, and even that appeared to tire her. Something unnamed, some worry that Tygett hadn't even realized he carried, unfurled inside of him for her.

"So, you're finally done avoiding me?" she said, an edge to her tone.

Funnily enough, he couldn't help but smile at the gentle rebuke. It meant she'd missed him if her bit of anger was anything to go by. He'd missed her as well.

"I've been busy cleaning up the mess your goodfather made when he decided to try to burn the city to the ground," Tygett grumbled. Immediately he regretted his words, for Elia's face soured and her shoulders hunched.

Cursing himself, he went to apologize - for what he wasn't quite sure. It was nothing less than the truth and she needed to know it. But he stumbled over his words.

Bah! Why did he feel so tongue-tied around this woman?

He was thirty-three, and she, twenty-seven! She'd been married and birthed two children, and he was hardly a virgin. He'd been around women for years; fucked them and talked with them and kissed them and done all manner of things with them that his gold paid for.

Why did this woman make him feel like a greenboy?

"Come, let us eat. I've requested supper here. I had a feeling you might visit me tonight," she said when he couldn't find a way to apologize for upsetting her.

Briefly, Tygett wondered about sending a runner to Sansa, to say he wouldn't be at the Lannister dinner, but he figured she'd know where he was. Or her husband would.

Rarely did anything happen in Tywin's camps that he was unaware of. It used to annoy Tygett to no end – how all-knowing Tywin appeared to be, but now he was grateful because it meant Elia was always guarded.

He lumbered into the small dining area, cursing that he hadn't even taken the time to remove parts of his armour as Elia pointed to a seat. As befitting her station, she had servants quickly plate their meal and pour him wine. He dug in, suddenly ravenous, as Elia watched on, amused.

"Do they not feed you when you're on duty?"

He snorted and mopped up some of the rich stew with a heel of brown bread, freshly baked.

"Not like this. Even here, you eat like a princess."

Now she was the one that made a funny sound.

"You're a Lannister, Ser Tygett; I hardly think you're eating mouldy bread and mystery meat stew."

He grinned then and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, wondering if his lack of manners might turn her away. But she seemed unaffected by his rough behaviour.

"Tis true I like a fine wine and a good meal," he said, contemplatively.

Elia laughed then, and Tygett was momentarily stunned by her beauty. She was slender, yes, and her chest relatively flat. But her dark hair gleamed as did her eyes, like onyx. Everyone in the West was so fair, blond and tanned, and Elia was so different from all of them.

She ran a finger around her wine goblet and then sipped.

"I have been to your home, you know."

Tygett startled and then frowned. "When? I do not recall such a visit."

Her eyes danced and he liked it when she was amused; far more than when she was worried. He wished he could promise to make her smile each day, but then pushed aside such a ludicrous thought.

"Nearly decade ago, after Lady Joanna died. I believe she and my mother had hoped to secure a match between Jaime and me, although your brother refused that."

Tygett frowned upon hearing that plan, wondering if she had wished she had married Jaime instead.

What a fool he was, sitting here when she wished for the heir to the Rock.

Of course, she would want Jaime. What woman wouldn't want the Golden Lion?

A warm hand in his forced Tyg to look at Elia. She had that smile on her face that he'd only seen her use with her children, and now, with him.

"I'm very glad that did not happen. Not that my marriage was a love match, but" she shrugged and left that sentence trail off.

Hope bloomed inside his chest, and he scrambled to think of something to say.

He was saved from embarrassing himself when a nanny entered with the two children. Rhaenys grinned at seeing him but ran to her mother, who helped her onto her lap while the nanny hovered, holding the newborn.

"Go on, take him," Elia said, once again grinning at him.

His palms suddenly felt damp, and he wondered if this were some sort of test. Even when Tywin's children had been small, Tygett had never interacted with them. He could hardly say no to Elia, though, especially with both her and Rhaenys looking at him.

The nanny handed Aegon to him. Elia's son was so tiny that he seemed to fit in the palms of both Tygett's hands. The infant, awake but quiet, stared up at him, eyes wide and curious. Overcome, Tyg could only stare down at him as they seemed to exchange some unknown vow, then and there.

"He's so vulnerable," he eventually whispered, voice thick, thinking of how easy it would be to hurt such an innocent being.

"He is," Elia agreed.

Rhae had fallen asleep on her lap as night had fallen. Their plates had been cleared away, and a single candle flickered.

"Will you press his claim?" Tygett asked, wondering how such a small person could be crowned a king – if the events that had just happened hadn't. Had there been no rebellion, this child would have been the King of the Seven Kingdoms after his father.

"Are you asking as a Lannister? Or as my friend?" Elia responded, not answering his question.

Tyg looked her directly in the eyes.

"Both. I'm asking as both. I won't ever lie to you, Princess. I love my House. I love my brother. I believe that he and Lady Sansa are what this realm needs. I believe they will make a good King and Queen."

"But?"

How did she know him so well already?

His lips twitched at her challenge of him. She never backed down and had a quiet strength to her that he admired greatly.

"But I won't lie and say that I'm not worried about your safety. Yours and his and Rhaenys. There are people that will use you," he told her.

"You mean my brothers."

She was clever. And unafraid to speak her mind. Tyg liked it, even if it increased his worry.

"Your brothers. Targ loyalists. Those who hate my brother. If you wish, you could press his claim. You did nothing wrong. You gave your husband a proper heir."

Elia said nothing, merely rocking Rhae as the silence between them spun, words unsaid filling the space.

"You're honest."

Tyg nodded.

"Very few people have ever been honest with me in my life. From the moment I was born, I was told I was to marry into a great house. I was groomed to be the wife of an important man. To bear his children and act like a lady. You treat me like I'm your equal."

Tyg's lips twitched.

"Princess, when I found you, you were bravely cheering on Ser Jaime as he fought off your attackers after boldly escaping your goodfather, all while shielding your daughter and being hugely pregnant. I might not be the smartest Lannister, but only a fool would underestimate you."

She threw her head back and laughed, and the smile she sent his way did something funny to his chest.

"Who would have thought that Tygett of House Lannister, the sword of the mighty House from the Westerlands, would be so observant? And kind? I do not know if anyone has seen me as brave. And fierce. And capable. You speak to me as if you think I have a say in my future. In my son's future. It is heady and addictive."

"You've met Sansa, have you not?" he muttered, shaking his head.

Elia gave another warm chuckle as Tygett sobered.

"Princess, I vow to you, that as long as you wish, I will guard you and keep you safe. From any who may wish you harm or to use you for their own gains. I will defend what you wish for your son," he said, wondering what his brother might think of such a vow.

But Tygett didn't care. His words were truthful and heartfelt, and he could not, nor would he, take them back.

Elia looked stunned before she shook her head, once again reaching for his hand. He was still holding a sleeping Aegon so that he couldn't touch her back, but he felt her soft fingers stoke the callouses of his hands - hands that had seen far too much bloodshed over the years.

"You are a very good man, Tygett Lannister," she said softly.

Their eyes locked, and for a brief moment, he wondered if something might happen, a kiss perhaps, when the infant in his hands began to wail. Then the nanny was back, and there was a flurry of activity, and Tygett found himself backing out of the tent to give Elia the privacy she required.

His mind was with the woman inside the tent, which was why, at first, he didn't realize what he was hearing. Night had fallen in earnest, and while fires blazed, there were pockets of the camp that were shrouded in darkness. And it was here where danger lurked.

There were three of them, all smaller in stature than himself, and their angry mutterings drew Tygett closer to them. He did not like their proximity to Elia's tent. They were so lost in their conversation that Tygett was able to sneak up behind them and listen for a time.

And what he heard made his blood run cold.

One man, named Lorch, spoke of Elia and what he'd do to her the way one would a whore. And not one of the high-end whores but one that was desperate and would do anything for a bit of gold.

"It's not right, us guarding dragons and not getting a taste of the prize," he said, leering and licking his pudgy lips.

Ser Lorch was a knight, pledged to House Lannister, a pig of a man that was known for his roughness with the whores.

"We ought to do something. Prove to King Tywin we're loyal to him by ridding the world of them dragon babies and teaching that Princess a lesson," another snarled.

He was from a lesser house, one in the hills around Silverhill. The man's tone made it clear what type of 'lesson' he wished to teach Elia. Tyg's heart raced, and he wondered for a moment what Tywin might do should he kill these three here and now.

"I know what I'd do if I had ten minutes alone with that Dornish whore," the third said.

He was larger than the other two and from Faircastle.

Perhaps he would have been wiser to get his brothers; indeed, it would have been prudent to report such abhorrent behaviour to Tywin and let him deal with it. His brother had already proven the lengths he'd go to ensure that Sansa was safe – even against their own kin. Surely, he'd do the same for Elia Martell.

But the rage that consumed Tygett upon hearing these men speak of her in such a way did not allow for rational thought. He strode into their small group, sword already drawn, righteous fury propelling him. Within seconds, he had Lorch on his knees, sword at his neck.

"If a single hair is harmed on Princess Elia's head or that of her children, I will hold you responsible, Lorch. I will cut off pieces of you, making your punishment as long and as painful as possible. And I will start with your cock. Are we clear?"

The man's small eyes glittered with hatred. He merely nodded. Knowing this wasn't done, Tygett spun to the other two, who seemed more fearful than Lorch. Both stammered out some apology and lame promise that they didn't mean Elia and the children any harm – that it was the ale that made them say such things.

Dissatisfied with Lorch and his lack of humility, Tyg leaned in closer.

"I'm watching you, Ser Lorch," he said, voice deadly with its meaning.

The man merely smirked.

"I serve the Great Lion, and I am loyal to House Lannister."

Knowing he could not let this stand, Tygett left the three men, finding Elia's guards and reminding them of their duty. All were men loyal to his brother and him, and Tygett doubled the men outside Elia's tent before storming off to find the one person who might provide him answers about Elia and her future.

Surely Sansa, of all people, knew what happened to Elia after they'd taken the capital. As much as Tygett could admit now that he felt something for the woman from Dorne, what he wanted more than anything was her happiness and her security. If that meant sending her home to Sunspear, then so be it. Here she would always be in danger.

He stormed into their tent to find his entire family gathered around the table, talking. Evidence of their meal remained on the table, and Kevan and Tywin both nursed glasses of Arbor Gold. Sansa sipped water and Jaime an ale, and all four of them looked at him as he entered, his righteous fury blurring the fact that Tywin's eyes narrowed at his entrance.

Tygett rested his fists on the table and leaned in, eyes locked on Sansa. He missed the protective hand that Tywin rested upon her back and the look that they shared, only thinking of the men he'd found outside Elia's tent that wanted to harm her.

"What happened to Elia Martell in your timeline?" he barked out, without preamble.

The silence in the tent was damning as Sansa looked to Tywin. There was something about them – how they seemed to know what the other was thinking without even exchanging words. Usually, Tygett found it amusing. Now it annoyed him.

"TELL ME!" he roared, uncaring about the scene he was making as he slammed a fist down on the table, rattling plates and silverware. He hated that they might keep things from him – especially when it concerned Elia.

Tywin's eyes had narrowed, and Tygett saw that he was very close to crossing a line with his brother. As Tywin stood, there was that barely contained protectiveness towards Sansa that was always present. Only a fool would dismiss what Tywin Lannister would do for his beloved wife.

"Careful, brother," Tywin intoned, voice low.

Still, it carried, and the sheer power in it reassured Tygett oddly enough.

"You either trust me, or you do not, brother. I would die for Sansa. For you. I will have your back, Tywin, as you rule the Seven. I am loyal, not only to House Lannister but to this family. To these people in this room. You know this. I deserve to know what happened to Elia and her children in Sansa's timeline."

Tygett missed how he used Elia's familiar name, but Sansa did not. She reached for her husband's hand and squeezed. She'd expected this since Tygett found out about her time travelling. Any fool could see that the man was half in love with Elia Martell already and entirely in love with her daughter. Rhaenys clung to the big lion and called him Uncle, and Tygett was fiercely protective of all of them.

With a sigh, Tywin looked at her. Sansa rose and pressed her lips to his, cupping his cheeks.

"It will be fine. We've changed things. And he has a right to know. He might not admit it, but he looks at Elia the way you look at me, husband. Would you deny him the ability to protect the one he loves?"

Tygett opened his mouth to protest – he did not love Elia – when a look from Kevan had him shutting his mouth.

"No use in denying it. You're a Lannister. When we fall, we fall hard," was all Kevan said.

Tygett snarled at Kevan but did not deny it. When he looked at Sansa, she had a sad smile on her face.

"Brother, take a seat. What I have to share is hard to hear."

Tygett did not want to sit. He did not want to wait. He did not want to do this dance with Sansa, whom he loved like a little sister, but was frustrated with right now. But he saw she would not be swayed, and indeed with Tywin lurking, glaring at him, Tyg knew he'd get nothing out of either of them if he didn't listen to her.

So, he sat and scowled, arms crossed over his chest, mind racing. There was an odd feeling in his stomach, and he had a moment, a flash, where he wondered if he should know. Perhaps ignorance was bliss. But then Lorch's face came unbidden into his mind, and Tygett knew whatever fate had befallen Elia in that other lifetime, he must know.

With Tygett now seated, Sansa told him of the changes they had made – that neither Cersei nor Tyrion had died in her timeline, that Tywin indeed had marched on the capital, but he'd sacked it instead of saving it, and that it had been Jaime, as the lone Kingsguard left in the city, that had driven his sword into Aerys' side to end that Mad King.

"He was a hero, but many saw his actions as opportune. He was named …"

Sansa paused and looked at Tywin. He gave a short jerk of his head. Sansa sighed.

"He was named Kingslayer. An oathbreaker. A man without honour. They were titles that would follow him the rest of his life."

"And Elia?" Tygett said, unmoved by Jaime's plight at the moment.

Tyg had to give Sansa credit. She didn't turn her eyes away from him, nor did she flinch.

"Ser Gregor and Ser Lorch found her and the children. Gregor killed Aegon and then raped her, her son's blood still on his hands when he killed her. It was Lorch that killed little Rhaenys."

Horror so great that Tygett thought he might be sick rushed through him. He looked to his brother, defiant even now.

"You ordered this?" he said, suddenly disgusted by Tywin.

"No," Sansa said, voice firm.

She rose now, regal and imposing.

"Tygett, stop. No one knows for sure why Ser Gregor and Ser Lorch did what they did. Tywin always maintained that he'd given the orders simply to secure the Princess and that both men were acting on their own."

Tyg snorted and shook his head.

"I know what you are, brother. Perhaps your wife needs to believe you to be a different man than you are, but I know the truth."

Tywin merely cocked his head.

"We were at war. It was a rebellion. Need I remind you that you were the one that called me craven for not entering this war sooner? What do you think would have happened to Elia Martell had I done so then? Do you think Aerys would have let her live? I will not apologize for actions I took in another lifetime – one we are not currently living. From the moment Jaime secured Elia Martell, I have made her safety and that of her children paramount."

Tygett pushed back from the table to pace, mind racing once again.

"This is the problem with time travel, Tyg," Kevan said, shrugging his shoulders. "Sansa knows a great deal, but we've changed so much. You can't judge Ty for his actions in that lifetime."

"Always loyal, aren't you?" Tygett sneered at Kevan, whose face went stern, anger flashing.

It was Sansa who rushed towards him, reaching for his hands.

"Brother, please. I did not have to tell you what happened to Elia. It was horrible. I knew how you'd react. I could have lied. Or give you a version of the truth. In that other lifetime, you did nothing to save Elia Martell either. You participated in the sack of King's Landing and all that entailed. Be careful when you cast stones at my husband."

Tygett stared at Sansa for a moment, then shook his head. "How can you love him? Knowing what he is?"

Sansa merely shrugged.

"I don't know. I simply do. We both know he is far more than the horrible things he's done. And we both know why he did the things he did. To keep House Lannister safe."

Tygett sighed and squeezed Sansa's hand, feeling some of this rage towards Tywin diminish. Slightly. She wasn't wrong. In that other lifetime, Tygett likely would not have saved Elia either, which seemed like an impossible thought to reconcile within his head and his heart considering what he now felt for the woman.

"Lorch lurks. Even now. I found him outside her tent, conspiring with two other men, one from Silverhills and another from Faircastle. He's not pleased that she is under Lannister protection, and he lusts after her. I overheard him speak of the things he wanted to do with her."

Tygett's eyes flashed as he locked gazes with his brother.

"I do not care that they've named you King. If any man harms her or her children, I will kill them," Tygett vowed.

To his credit, Tywin merely nodded.

"Of course. Not only is Lady Elia under our protection, but she is also a friend of Queen Sansa's, the sister of a member of our alliance, and clearly the woman you love."

Tygett went to protest and then snapped his mouth shut while Tywin smirked.

"I have waited a lifetime to see you fall in love," Tywin said and Tygett could do nothing to counter such a claim. It seemed he was a Lannister man after all.

"Well, we cannot let this stand. Elia is a good woman, father, and if uncle feels for her the way you say he does, she must be kept safe," Jaime demanded.

"And the fact that if anything were to happen to her, I'd fear I'd have a war on my hands," Tywin muttered.

"It's about more than war!" Tyg roared. "She is an innocent, Tywin. Those children? I held Aegon in my hands tonight. It would take nothing for someone to harm him, or Rhaenys," Tyg's throat went thick, and he couldn't even imagine what he might do should someone harm her children.

Tywin was there, a hand on his shoulder.

"I did not know how much she meant to you," Tywin said quietly.

"Neither did I."

Tywin merely nodded.

"We will afford her the best protection. Let us go and deal with Lorch and make it abundantly clear that no harm is to come of Elia Martell while in the Lannister camp."

He was out of Tywin's tent a minute later, knowing that the others were behind him. That was one thing he no longer had to fear – whether he had his family's support. Tygett did not know what the future held for Elia; whether she'd need to marry someone new, if she could make her own choices about the future, or if she'd even be allowed to stay in King's Landing. But Tyg was determined that she'd have the opportunity to make those choices.

Tygett had known the moment he'd delivered his threat that Lorch wouldn't move on. He was found precisely where Tygett had left him not an hour ago. Only this time, two more men had joined them. And it was apparent from the sneers, the lewd gestures and the empty skins of wine that littered their feet that the men were drunk.

Unfortunately for them, Tygett was not. And neither were Jaime, Kevan and Tywin, all of whom were better swordsmen than these drunken fools.

Jaime sent him an almost feral grin.

"I am by your side, Uncle," and Tyg recalled how deadly Tywin's heir was with a sword.

"Together," Tyg grinned back as Jaime withdrew his sword.

"Ser Lorch, I told you to move away from Lady Elia's tent," Tygett called and saw the five men startled and turn to him and Jaime.

Likely owing to the ale he'd consumed in vast quantities, Ser Amory Lorch didn't seem to quite realize how much danger he was in. Instead of apologizing and meekly offering up some excuse, he instead responded with disdain.

"Why should we guard dragons? Why should we spend our days and our nights worrying over that foreign Dornish whore?"

Tygett saw red. Before he even knew it, he had Lorch on the ground, pounding away at the chubby man's face. Lorch spit and snarled, and while Tygett had size and muscle about him, Lorch squirmed like a fat little pig. He drove his knee into Tygett's thigh, barely missing his stones and cock.

They rolled, grunting a Lorch fought like a wild cat, driving his nails into Tygett's cheek, scoring him and making him bleed.

"We see you panting after her, lion. You're no better than us," Lorch taunted.

Tygett managed to loosen his elbow and drive it into Lorch's cheek. The man howled as his cheek gushed, and Tygett took a moment to grab a dagger and hold it to the man's fat neck. Tygett pressed the tip in, knowing it would take nothing to slit this man's throat, here and now.

It was only when the silence hit his ears, and he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, that Tygett finally looked around. Jaime and Kevan had the other four men on their knees, disarmed and slightly bloodied. Sansa stood, worrying her hands as if she somehow held herself responsible for what he'd done. Beside Sansa, stood Elia, a displeased look on her face as she took in the scene around her.

Tygett wondered if this might send her running back to her brother's camp, leaving him. He wouldn't blame her in the least.

"It is enough, brother," Tywin said, voice both understanding with him and yet, firm.

"We cannot trust him," Tyg said, refusing to release the dagger Lorch's throat.

Tywin's eye went cold and deadly as he looked at Lorch, a man that Tywin himself had once knighted.

"No, we cannot."

Those green eyes held a wealth of promise, and Tygett knew his bother would make Ser Lorch's life miserable.

The scent of piss and shit had Tygett scrambling back, off of the fat man.

"Fuck sakes," he muttered as Lorch sputtered and begged, realizing too late that he'd angered the Great Lion.

"Take him and his compatriots to the cells. They can spend a night there while I devise an appropriate punishment for them," Tywin ordered.

"But Your Grace, I meant no harm ---" Lorch began to say as men dragged him away.

"Stop," Tywin commanded, and everyone stilled.

Tygett had no idea how Tywin did it, but no one dared defy him. He stalked towards the soiled Lorch and curled his lip.

"You would be well advised to stop your lies. My bother ordered you away from Lady Elia's tent, and yet he returns not an hour later to find you and your friends, drunk and plotting to harm her. Tell me why I shouldn't let him take your head for that disobedience?"

Lorch paled, now sweaty and shaking and began to utter nonsense to Tywin while Tygett turned away, done with it. He'd made his statement. His brother soon followed and delivered the mandate that Elia and her children were not to be harmed and that anyone who did so would immediately forfeit their life.

"Any man, woman or child that harms Lady Elia will feel the kiss of steel on their neck!"

The men, all those that had gathered, nodded.

"Tell the others," Kevan barked and then worked to find appropriate guards for Elia for the night.

Tygett merely wanted his own tent, to lick his wounds in private. Once again, his big brother had stolen his moment. Now Elia was protected by Tywin's word, not his sword. It left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

"Come, let me look at that," came Elia's voice, right before she touched his elbow.

Tygett stilled, gazing upon her. She seemed – exasperated with him but not upset. And she wasn't even looking at Tywin. Sansa fussed over her husband, and Tygett noted how closely Tywin held his wife, even here, around his men.

"You're not scared of me?" he asked gruffly.

"I wish to know why you did what you did. Come. We've created enough of a spectacle. I'd prefer they gossip about us where I don't have to watch."

Too stunned to protest, Tyg allowed Elia to escort him inside her tent. He sat where he was told to and kept his mouth shut as she called for hot water and a needle, along with fresh linens. She, too, had heard of Sansa's decrees when it came to tending the wounded.

He grunted only twice as she stitched his face, knowing he'd have a scar but thinking it was worth it to defend this woman. He could smell the scent of her – something sweet and spicy, like vanilla and cinnamon. The Dornish were known for their love of spices, and it clung to Elia, making her seem so far removed from the scent that had assaulted his nose when Lorch's bowels had let loose.

"What was that?" she finally asked.

He couldn't tell if she was angry at him or not. He was far too tired to play games.

"That man, those men, they were speaking about you in a way that I disapproved of. He would have harmed you, left unchecked."

Tygett wasn't sure what he expected – perhaps a bit of gratitude from Elia. Instead, she gave a tired shrug.

"Many men have attempted to harm me. Some that were sworn to protect me," she said, a knowing look in her eyes. Tygett had seen it before – women that had been raped and used and beaten. His blood turned cold once again.

"Your husband? Did he harm you?" Tygett blurted out, needing to know.

Elia shook her head.

"No. We were not a love match, but he was not cruel to me. From the moment we met, I knew that I was merely a means to an end to Rhaegar – no different than most marriages between two high-born people that had nothing in common. He wasn't cruel to me but indifferent most of the time. He was passionate about his hobbies, and I'd hoped, for a time, that he might feel some of that passion for me."

She was quiet, and Tygett held his breath as his cheek throbbed, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

"I knew when he gave Lyanna Stark that crown of flowers at the tourney that I was never the woman that he loved. It was embarrassing to be passed over for another."

He wanted to say something, to offer her comfort but knew now was not the time. Despite what he might feel for this woman, he had no idea where he stood with her nor what would be demanded of her in the coming days.

"What people have to understand," she continued, brushing aside her husband's rejection, "was that living with Aerys was like living under the constant threat of attack. He was well known for his … sexual appetites. There was more than one whore brought to his chambers and left abused and bloodied. And all of us heard how he raped his wife, again and again, wanting another heir. Rhaella suffered from many lost pregnancies, and they took their toll on her, but Aerys was not satisfied with two sons. He wanted more. Like all men. Even my husband."

"Not all men," he blurted out.

Her eyes widened.

He looked away and muttered, "Not every man needs an heir, nor looks upon his beloved as a broodmare."

He missed the flash of hope, bright and joyful in Elia's eyes. By the time he turned back, her face had settled into bemusement.

"So, Ser Tygett, how do you plan on keeping my children and me safe?"

"Simple. You will move into the Lannister mansion tomorrow when we repopulate the city."

Her jaw dropped, and for once, she appeared at a loss for words.

Tygett smirked.

"The Martell one is not ready. Your brothers let its upkeep lapse, and you'll be hard-pressed to find the appropriate servants to staff it in the chaos that will be the retaking of King's Landing. And Dorne did not send nearly the men we did. The Lannister mansion is the safest place in King's Landing. Both Sansa and Lady Catelyn will be there, along with countless guards and people to help you with the children."

He crossed his arms as if his logic was irrefutable.

"Is that so?"

"It is," Tygett smirked and could have sworn that Elia blushed. Slightly. He sobered, leaning forward.

"There are those that would hurt you. You and the children."

She sighed and nodded. "I know."

She was quiet for a moment and then, "We will join House Lannister at their home in King's Landing as the formal guests of King Tywin and Queen Sansa."

It was a bold move and one that indicated where Elia's loyalty would lie in the upcoming weeks and months. With House Lannister and what was the safest course of action for her son. She was willing to do what was best for him, and right now, he was the least vulnerable if he were close to the King. And to Tygett himself.

"Good." He rose.

"I will guard you this evening," he said, helping Elia to her feet.

She swayed, clearly exhausted, and without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms.

Elia gasped and then clutched at the edge of his chest armour before her lips twitched.

"Very gallant, Ser Tygett."

He mumbled something about her quick wit and strode through the tent, coming to her handmaiden, who tsk'd and thanked Tygett for carrying her back to her bed.

"The Maester has left you a tonic," the handmaiden said, a stern but gentle tone present.

Those that served Elia were devoted to her, and after hearing about life in King's Landing, Tygett understood why. He gently placed her on the bed. Before he could leave, she stroked his cheek and gave a wan smile.

"It has been a very long time since a man defended me so fiercely and wanted nothing in return."

Tygett said nothing, for he did want something. He wanted her heart, but he knew that was not what she meant.

"The daybed in the main room is sure to be miserably uncomfortable, but it is yours if you wish," she said, and he could only nod.

When he got there, he managed to wrest himself out a few pieces of his armour, placing them on various settees and chairs in the room, before he dropped, wearily, to the aforementioned daybed. It was as hard as some of the ground he'd slept on in his years as a soldier yet infused with that smell that was uniquely Elia. Somehow, being this close to her allowed him to slip into a light sleep.

He was awoken a few hours later by the pitter-patter of little feet to find Rhaenys out of her bed.

"Lion," she whispered.

She giggled as Tygett scooped her up. She cuddled into the cradle of his arms as he, half sitting on the uncomfortable piece of furniture, held her weight welcome in his arms.

It was how Elia found them the following day; the third son of Tytos Lannister, now the undisputed protector of a tiny sun dragon princess. There was no way Elia could turn down Tygett's offer of protection. She hadn't felt this safe in years.

She understood many people would seek to use her, harm her, or kill her. Perhaps Tygett did have ulterior motives, but she'd never felt fear when she was with him. And in Elia's world, that counted for something.

Only time would tell if these feelings, that were mere seedlings now, ever bloomed into something more between the two of them.

For now, it was enough to put the safety of her family into the strong, skillful hands of one Tygett Lannister, a man that Elia was fast realizing was becoming everything she'd ever dreamed of when she'd thought about her future and finding true love for herself.

Lannister mansion – Sansa

They were in their bed, in their tent, for what Sansa hoped was the very last time, about to make love, having to keep quiet as to not inform the entire war camp what they were up to. Which was difficult because of the way Tywin made her feel. Sansa wanted to make as much noise as possible.

Tywin was pressing kisses to her back as she lay naked on her side, eyes half-closed, enjoying this moment with her husband.

Soon enough, today, in fact, they would be inside the walls of King's Landing and home in the Lannister mansion. Two months of a war camp, while pregnant, had Sansa longing for the comforts of a real house. And what a house it was. She could hardly believe that the mansion was to be her new home – it was a true testament to Tywin's wealth and the status of House Lannister.

A calloused hand, one she knew as well as her own, skimmed her side, fingers dancing along her skin.

"Gods, you're like cream I could lick all day," Tywin murmured, sending waves of pleasure throughout Sansa's entire body.

That voice of his did it for her, as did his hands. His tongue. Fingers. Cock.

Gods, there wasn't a part of this man that didn't turn her on.

She shuddered delightfully, arching into his touch.

His muscular chest, pressed against her back, rumbled.

"Does my lioness like that thought? Does she want me to lick her? Spend all day worshipping this lovely body that's ripe with my seed," he whispered into her ear, suckling.

Sansa's hands gripped the counterpane as she keened out a wail, feeling how slick her thighs were. Moaning, she rubbed them together, trying to get some friction to relieve the ache there, but nothing would do but her husband. And he seemed in no mood to give her any relief.

"I like seeing you like this – so greedy for whatever pleasure I choose to give to you."

She slit opened an eye and turned her head to give Tywin a look.

The man smirked, and then his lips were on hers, as Sansa twisted so she could kiss him as she liked – passionately. There was something about having a man like Tywin that was so hers that just revved up her engine.

"Husband, if you do not give me the pleasure I desire, I will have to take matters into my own hands."

His eyes, green, darkened and the gold flecks in them almost glowed.

"Sansa," he managed to choke out.

She'd demonstrated the way a woman could bring herself off one evening, unaware of how much power could be found in masturbating in front of her husband. Tywin was voracious in bed, and every single idea she had, every kink she'd wanted to explore, he'd been right there with her.

Sometime soon, she wanted to spend an afternoon with his hands tied to the posters of his bed in King's Landing and have her wicked way with him.

But for now, she wanted her husband's cock, and she wanted it now. Especially considering that they were moving today, and she had endless tasks to take care of. She wasn't rushing, but she didn't want to drag this out either.

She flipped herself on top of him as Tywin sprawled on his back, his eyes gleaming as he drank her in.

Her breasts were far larger now, owing she hoped to the pregnancy and the swell of her stomach prominent. Though it was too soon to tell, Sansa wondered about the possibility of twins. She seemed much bigger than her sister Catelyn, who was also four months along.

As much as passion constantly thrummed between them, there was a moment when Tywin stilled and placed both his hands on her growing stomach.

"Husband," she said, adding her hands over his.

"Wife," he responded, dragging his eyes away from her tummy and up to her eyes.

"Ride me, little one," he said, sliding his hands from her stomach to her hips and anchoring her over his aching cock.

Sansa gripped his cock with one hand and stroked another on his chest, and then wiggled until she pushed herself up enough to take his entire length inside her slick channel. Her flesh gave way to accommodate his girth, and she let out a breathy moan, throwing her head back and undulating her hips. She had no idea the siren she resembled as she rode Tywin, bouncing and grinding on him, greedy to find her pleasure. She knew the moment she came, he'd follow her over the edge, so she controlled their coupling for now.

He whispered things to her, in their bedroom in this tent, dirty things and loving things. Things that were for her ears only. Things that Sansa knew he'd never said to Joanna. She didn't often compare herself to Tywin's first wife, but every so often, it was impossible not to.

She knew their sex life was out of this world incredible, and something Tywin had never had with another woman, and Sansa took a great deal of pride in unlocking this part of Tywin.

When she was sweaty, weak, and panting, she begged him to let her come. He was so strong that he managed to sit up and control her hips, slamming her down at the exact right angle so that her clit brushed against his pubic bone, sending sparks through her body.

"Tywin!" she demanded, grabbing his shoulders and fucking him hard, needing him now, when he brushed his hand against her clit, and then pinched, sending her careening into the most orgasmic bliss as he thrust inside her, again and again, eventually coming with a roar.

Gods, they were a mess, she thought as she cuddled in his arms, reeking of their fucking.

Was it this time that made it always seem so primal or just them?

She didn't know and didn't really care. She just knew that it was more than she'd ever expected from marriage and from sex itself. Her only regret was that she had no girlfriend like Marg, in which she could gossip about her sex life.

As the fog of their passion waned, Sansa's thoughts turned to Tygett, her brother. She was sprawled out across Tywin's naked chest, as he ran his hand through her hair.

She'd never had siblings before and found herself quite liking Tywin's third brother. He'd been scarce since he'd discovered who she was. At first, Sansa had worried it had been her own incredible story that had made Tyg stay away. But soon enough, she realized it was Elia Martell.

Or, more specifically, Tygett's feelings for Elia.

"What are you thinking about?" Tywin asked.

"Tygett and if he will have his heart broken," she told her husband, tilting her head up so she could see him.

Tywin arched an eyebrow and gave her a look.

"Perhaps I should be concerned that my wife is naked in my arms and is thinking about my brother."

Sansa rolled her eyes at her husband and pushed herself to a sitting position. These days, her movements felt clumsy and slow, and it was sure to worsen as her pregnancy progressed.

"You know that's not it. They would make a good match, and it would be a boon to our alliance if they were to announce a betrothal. Think of how that might neutralize House Martell."

Sansa could hardly believe she was thinking such thoughts. To a modern woman, it would seem appalling to be thinking of another marriage when one's husband was barely dead. But these were not modern times. Elia was in a unique position – at once extremely powerful and highly vulnerable. They would not be the only ones thinking about her worth as a wife and angling for position.

Tywin merely grunted, also sitting up, drawing her into the cradle of his arms.

"I agree, it would be a good match, not only for my brother but for our house. I, more than anyone, am shocked at how taken my brother appears to be with a woman of his station. For years I've begged him to do his duty. I've thrown eligible woman after eligible woman in his path. And nothing. He was content to visit his whores and be a soldier. Leave it to him to fall for the highest-ranking woman in the realm. But she is not yet available. We must give her time to mourn."

Sansa sighed and nodded. She understood Tywin's position. She did. She just thought that they would make a fine couple. Tywin brushed a kiss against her cheek, and she pressed closer to him, loving being held by him like this. There was nowhere she felt as safe as she did when she was alone with Tywin.

"I am rarely in a position where the good of a family member and what is best for our house aligns. On this, it does. Trust me when I say I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that such a marriage occurs. It would be good on all fronts for us."

She would have to be satisfied with that. The only reason Sansa was pushing this, was she knew that others would seek out Elia's hand, now that she had given the realm a true heir in Aegon. There might be Targ loyalists, men like Barristan Selmy and Jon Connington that would seek her support for her son's claim to the Iron Throne. Far better for them, Sansa believed, if Elia were married to a Lannister.

And Sansa knew what it was like to be loved by a Lannister man. Consuming. Passionate. Amazing. There were difficult men, with large egos and too much swagger by far, but they loved deeply.

Sansa loathed to bring up Lyanna Stark but knew the time was coming when she would have to, and it would be another blow to Elia's pride to discover Rhaegar's other wife. The man hadn't simply taken up with Lyanna; he'd annulled his first marriage (which likely wasn't even legal to do so) and married Lyanna. It would be deeply embarrassing when those facts came to light.

Sansa liked Elia Martell and could imagine having her as a goodsister where they might become even closer than they currently were.

Two hours later, the very man Sansa was thinking about entered their tent.

Sansa was in the midst of directing their servants on packing up their belongings, Tywin muttering about his favourite quills and books and how they were packed.

It was clear there was something on his mind, though what it was, Sansa didn't want to guess. He looked dishevelled and slightly sleep-deprived and she wondered where he'd spent the night.

Surely the man wouldn't be so idiotic to visit a whore just because Elia was in mourning. Would he?

She was building up a righteous head of anger when he collapsed into a chair and gave Tywin a hard look.

"I've invited Elia and her children to stay at the Lannister mansion. I have formally put them under my protection and sworn my sword to her. To defend her against any who might harm her. Even you, brother."

There was silence, while the two men looked at one another and then Tywin merely nodded.

"You know a betrothal between the two of you would accomplish much the same as what you are attempting to do. And the benefits far more rewarding than sleeping on an uncomfortable day bed in her antechamber."

There was an amused twitch to Tywin's lips as Sansa hid her smile.

Tygett's scowl deepened.

"It is always disturbing how much you could figure out without being told," he muttered.

Then he ran a hand through his long hair and leaned forward.

"You think I haven't thought the same thing? More than once? There are those who will seek to use her Ty, and perhaps I am just one more person to do so, even though I have … feelings for her. But the Maester told her she'd die if she were ever to attempt another pregnancy. Tell me, what man, other than one like me, could take such a highborn wife and not expect heirs? Who else would never hold that against her?" Tygett demanded.

Sansa felt horrified by such a thought.

"She could marry someone that would demand an heir of their own, and her life would be forfeit," Tyg added bitterly.

Tywin, having his own horrific experience with losing a wife, appeared to have a great deal of empathy for his brother.

"She is the key to her son's future. Many will see Aegon as the true heir. Be sure she knows how you feel about her, or this could end poorly for you, Tygett," Tywin cautioned.

Tyg merely nodded and turned to Sansa.

"Is it normal for a woman to be so weak after they've birthed a babe?" he asked her.

Sansa paused and thought about what she knew of Elia and her health.

"There were always rumours that she was in poor health from the time she was a child. She was born premature and sometimes that results in the underdevelopment of things like a baby's lungs and heart. But it does seem odd that she struggled so much with her pregnancies, much like Rhaella did. While she might not have been as robust as some women, very rarely does being born a month early drastically affect a person into their adulthood."

Tygett grunted as Jaime entered the tent. Upon spotting his uncle, he hurried to Tygett's side and asked what they were speaking about.

"Elia's health," he answered.

"I mean, there are always those women who lose a lot of blood during childbirth, and it takes them longer to recover. Low iron in the bloodstream can lead to lethargy, as can other diseases, such as auto-immune ones. Things such as lupus or chronic fatigue syndrome. And that's not even touching on the fact that she might have suffered from anxiety or depression, or even post-partum depression during her life. To attempt to pinpoint exactly why the birth of a child affects her so greatly would be hard to narrow down in this day and age without diagnostic tests and blood work."

She was so lost in her own head, thinking about what ailments Elia might have to explain her weakened state, that she almost missed Tygett's stunned expression.

"How does she know all this?" he asked his brother.

Tywin gave an amused smirk.

"That is barely scratching the surface of my wife's knowledge. Trust me when I tell you, do not get her started on some subjects. Did you know that it is the man that determines the gender of a baby?"

He shared this news as if he still couldn't believe it.

Both Tygett and Jaime appeared stunned while Sansa merely smiled at them.

"How do you know such things?" Jaime asked.

"Most of this is common knowledge. I didn't even study anything to do with medicine, but this is taught in every high school biology class – in public school," she explained, telling them both how all children were educated from the time they were five until they turned eighteen.

"Seven hells I don't even know what to think," Tygett said shaking his head.

Sansa levelled a stern look at him. "Well, one thing I've been meaning to speak with you about is your proclivity for visiting whores. There are far too many diseases transferred between them and men that use them frequently. Not to mention it's gross. If you want any chance at Elia, you must remain celibate. You must prove to her that you want far more from her than just sex."

Tygett turned red hearing her speak so bluntly, but Sansa did not care. Like hell, she was losing a man she loved like a brother to the pox. He could keep his dick in his pants and woo Elia instead.

Jaime patted his uncle on the back, while Tygett sputtered that it had been close to half a year since he'd been with a woman.

"Getting back to Elia," Jaime chimed in, taking pity on Tygett who was now muttering to himself.

"She seems stronger since we've been out of King's Landing. I know she was very pregnant when we left, but she always seemed so pale and sweaty when we were in the capital. There were many nights when she could barely make it through supper before she'd need to rest. Even before she was pregnant again."

This bit of news had Sansa frowning.

"Rhaella was known to suffer from terrible miscarriages and poor health. And now you are telling me that Elia Martell did as well?"

Jaime nodded, while Tywin scowled.

"Did Aerys have a taster for her?"

Jaime shook his head. "No. Only for himself. And his food was specially prepared."

They all exchanged worried glances.

"It seems that someone might have been intentionally making Elia sicker than she already was. If her immune system, her body, was already weaker due to the circumstances of her birth, being exposed to a noxious substance wouldn't have helped matters at all," Sansa announced.

Tywin shook his head in anger.

"Tygett you will tell Elia about our suspicions. You were correct to put her under our protection. Take Jaime with you when you oversee her move to King's Landing. She can occupy the largest apartment on the first floor. Watch her handmaidens and see if any appear to not have her best interests at heart. It may be unseemly to some, but she needs you guarding her. I will call Pycelle to the mansion tomorrow and question him about what else was going on in the Red Keep that we were unaware of."

Tygett rose, grinning and hugged Tywin hard. Sansa bit back the snicker as her husband awkwardly patted his younger brother on the back.

"I will make you proud," Tygett announced, before he and Jaime exited the tent, leaving a slightly bemused and worried King and Queen behind.

"This doesn't bode well if someone was attempting to harm Elia," Sansa said lowly, going into Tywin's embrace.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head and stroked a comforting hand down her back.

"No love, it does not."

One of the best things about Tywin was how he never sugar-coated the harsh reality of where and when they lived.

Sansa sighed, knowing they'd done all they could. Tonight, they would be in a place far more secure than this war camp. In their mansion, they would have their friends and family by their side, along with their loyal guards.

And yet, despite that reassurance, Sansa knew the real games had just begun. The real jockeying for position would soon begin. Perhaps not for the Iron Throne itself, although it remained to be seen if there would be challengers to their claim. The real question was how Westeros would be reshaped with Tywin as its King and which regions would benefit the most from his reign and he'd punish those that had aligned with the Targayreans.

Sansa knew that they were strongest with their allies by their side. She could only hope and pray that Elia Martell proved to be friend and not a foe.