46 Chapter 44
King's Landing – Tygett
The trip back to King's Landing went fast – faster than the one to Dragonstone, likely due to the fact that for the first time in his life, Tygett Lannister found himself worrying over a tiny infant.
Daenerys Targaryen was so small that Tygett worried the slightest thing might bring her harm. Even knowing she was a dragon – a full-blooded one at that, he felt protective of her in a way he'd never felt protective of anyone in his life. Perhaps it had to do with the simple fact that moments after he'd witnessed her birth, she had been placed in his arms. Odd how a man that had sworn to never take a wife and father children now found himself with three.
There were two wetnurses with them on the ship back to the mainland, and he sat and watched as they tended to his new charge. He didn't care if they found him intrusive – now that he'd saved this child, he felt it was his duty to continue to see to her care.
Surprisingly, the baby seemed the least fussy when fed, changed, burped, and handed to him. Daenerys seemed to take a great deal of comfort in sleeping against his chest, and so he often found himself rocking her in his cabin, all while his mind drifted back to King's Landing.
He wondered what his brother would think of his choice to keep her alive.
Tygett already knew the women, Elia, Sansa, and Catelyn, would approve of his decision, but his brother might simply see the child as a threat.
But if anyone could bring Tywin around to warming to the child, it was his wife. Sansa had a hold over Tywin that Tygett had never seen in his thirty-three namedays.
Still, Tygett knew that keeping Daenerys alive was a risk – a huge one. There was no guarantee that this tiny child wouldn't grow up to one day hate the very house that had saved her.
He hoped that wouldn't come to pass. Already when she would stare up at him with those distinctive purple eyes, Tygett felt himself bonded to her. Tygett knew he would slay anyone who tried to harm her.
Sansa had been very clear with him that Elia might not ever be able to give him a child – that her health was too fragile. That hadn't stopped Tygett from wanting a life with her. Maybe he was simply projecting his feelings of not having his own child onto this little baby he now was responsible for.
Either way, by the time they docked in King's Landing, Tygett had taken to calling his new charge Dany and had fashioned a sling with the help of the two nursemaids who giggled and flirted with him, taken in by how much care he'd shown the newborn.
They were attractive women and eager to leave Dragonstone. There might have been a time when Tyg would have entertained them – both – at the same time in his bed back to the capital. But that was no longer the case. The women had been disappointed by his dismissal, and Tyg had put them out of his mind, excited to see Elia and the children.
"What is it like, to have women throw themselves at you?" Stannis muttered one night after their meal had been cleared. The wet nurses had been in, handing him the baby, who he cuddled now.
Tygett shrugged, not having considered it before.
He had always had gold, a strong body and his rugged blonde good looks. Getting women into his bed had never been a problem for Tygett Lannister.
"I've never thought about it," Tyg replied. "They were just always there. Available."
Stannis snorted at that statement and sat there, drumming his fingers on the table.
"I have to take a wife," the Storm Lord muttered.
Neither man said anything for a time. There was nothing for Tygett to say. Stannis would need a wife. Perhaps not immediately, as Renly was six and could stand in as his heir. But soon enough he'd want a wife and his own child. A man in Stannis's position needed an heir and a spare.
"With Robert dead, whomever I choose will be the Lady of Storm's End. She must be above reproach," Stannis finally said.
Tygett would never understand that pressure that came from being the first-born son – that honour had fallen to Tywin, and he'd comported himself as a first-born son was expected. Tywin had married Joanna and then produced a son for the Westerlands. Though Tywin had pushed for years for Tyg to make a match to strengthen their position, Tyg hadn't had to marry. Not the way others had.
"There is time," was the only thing that Tygett thought he could say to Stannis.
With the coronation of his brother and Sansa, a feast, and a great conclave to establish House Lannister as the overlords of the Seven Kingdoms, lords and knights from across the realm would soon be flocking to King's Landing. And all those men would bring with them daughters that needed to secure a match.
More than one lord would be looking to snag the newly named Lord Paramount of the Stormlands for their house. Stannis was a powerful man with strong alliances – he was a desirable man for many fathers in Westeros. Not that he knew it.
"Perhaps there is," Stannis muttered and then looked to the small child that was now sleeping against Tygett's chest. There was a flash of longing there, and Tyg knew that it wouldn't take long for Stannis to find his mistress of Storm's End. The man clearly wanted a family.
When they saw the city, Tygett ensured that Dany was with him. They anchored their ship in Blackwater Bay and boarded a small boat to bring them to shore.
The craft that brought them to the docks was large enough that Tygett's stomach roiled only slightly. He held his new charge tightly, strapped to his chest, and was pleased to see his family awaiting his arrival.
It was incredible how much things had changed in the past year since Tywin began to have his visions of Sansa.
Tygett Lannister now had a family – one that missed him when he was away.
There was no mistaking Elia and little Rhaenys, who was waving frantically at him.
The dark-haired little girl was yelling something, even as Elia admonished her gently and clearly excited to see him. Tyg's heart swelled, and he couldn't help but grin and wave back at the two of them, standing there, waiting for him.
His brother was there, tall and imposing a frown on his face. Tywin might have softened, slightly, with Sansa now in his life, but his brother always would be that stern, harsh man that Tygett knew from his childhood. Tywin simply had far too many responsibilities heaped upon him at a young age to be carefree about anything.
Tygett knew Tywin would be displeased that Viserys, Willem Darry and the Royal Fleet had escaped. It was worrisome, to be sure, but they had been gone from Dragonstone before Stannis and Tyg had even left King's Landing. They hadn't failed in their duty – they had simply been unable to complete their mission as assigned.
Beside Tywin stood Jaime and Sansa.
Having just witnessed the distended belly of a woman nine months pregnant in Rhaella, Tyg's eyes widened at how large his goodsister appeared to be. Tygett knew that the Maester claimed she was pregnant with twins, but she seemed huge to his eyes.
She wore a beautiful gown of deep blue and silver, her long red hair curling down her back. Sansa stood close to Tywin, who hovered protectively over his Queen.
Jaime had a grin on his handsome face, his blond hair windswept, and his eyes bright with anticipation for Tygett's arrival back in the capital.
And at the feet of his family, were two little lion cubs. Tygett was pleased to see they had arrived from the Rock. It would do those in the capital good to how the gods had blessed his house.
"Seven fucking hells are those lions?" Stannis exclaimed, for once looking utterly gobsmacked. Very few things seemed to rile up the Storm Lord, but apparently, lions did.
It appeared the young Lord Sandor had finally made it to King's Landing with Augustus and Alexander. Sandor had a scowl on his face, but he hovered over the two cubs who were wrestling with one another.
Tyg's grin was broad as he looked at his new friend.
"They are lions, Stannis. Six months old or thereabouts," Tygett answered.
"I never thought I'd see lions," Stannis muttered, shaking his head.
Tygett assumed many in the realm would feel the same way. When they were close to the dock, Elia had to lean down and prevent Rhaenys from throwing herself into the boat.
"Papa Lion," she kept crying, and he was eager to get to her.
Tygett stood and then was helped from the boat by Tywin and Jaime, one who wore an amused expression on his face at the baby strapped to Tyg's chest, the other who looked uncertain and upset.
"I couldn't let an innocent die, Tywin," Tygett muttered to his brother, wondering how angry Tywin was with him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd disappointed his oldest brother and Tyg doubted it would be the last.
Tywin grunted and was about to respond when Tygett was surrounded by females, who pressed in around all sides, eager to see him and the newest member of their family. Vaguely Tyg heard Tywin address Stannis, but he tuned those two out. They were far more alike than they realized. Let them have their moment.
Elia, a bold thing, pressed herself close to him. In the chaos, Tyg felt her slip her hand into his as her dark eyes glanced between his face and the baby. He squeezed her hand, wishing they had more privacy for this conversation.
"And who is this?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Daenerys Targaryen, your goodsister," Tyg responded gruffly.
The tiny baby fluttered her eyes open, and Elia gasped, for they were the same purple as Rhaenys' were.
"Oh, Tyg, she's precious," Elia murmured.
Relief crashed through Tygett as he unstrapped the baby and held her to Elia, watching as the woman he loved instantly cradled the child close to her, crooning at her. Tyg knew his choice had been the correct one, seeing Elia with Daenerys. Elia was already half in love with the baby.
That freed Tyg to scoop up Rhae in his arms, tickling her as she giggled and put her arms around him, snuggling close.
"Hello, little one," Tyg rumbled to Rhaenys, who settled her head on his massive shoulder, and began to suck her thumb, content with her life now that her Papa Lion was back.
Sansa had gathered around Elia, the two women busily cooing at the baby.
Tywin's grunt had Tygett looking at his brother.
"She is a dragon," Tywin muttered, clearly displeased.
Tygett almost rolled his eyes at his brother and his obvious discomfort with the baby. Instead, he said nothing as their family went to the carriage that would bring them back to Eastern Den. Tygett put Rhaenys into the carriage, with her mother and her aunt and the little girl crawled onto Sansa's lap while the two women hovered over the small infant.
With the women safety ensconced within the carriage, Tygett was left with his brother, who was scwoling at him, their men bringing their horses for them.
"Gods, even with a woman like Sansa by your side, you're still a miserable son of a bitch," Tygett grumbled.
With that, he swung up onto his mount and stroked a hand down his horse's neck as the beast neighed and stepped in place. Tygett grinned at the beast. It felt good to be back on a horse, and Tyg noted that the capital seemed to be bustling once more. One would never think that a month ago, a mad King had tried to destroy this all.
"You failed in your mission," Tywin snarled as they began to climb the hill that led them out of the harbour, towards King's Landing proper.
Tyg snorted.
"I did no such thing. Viserys was gone before we even left King's Landing. Rhaella was never going to survive that birth, and now you have another dragon under your influence. By anyone's measure, that would be a good day, Tywin."
Tywin's mouth turned down.
"The boy will be a problem."
Tygett said nothing, knowing that his brother wasn't done.
"Sansa said he was more like his father than the girl ever was."
Tyg shrugged.
"He's seven."
"He's a rallying point," Tywin countered.
Tyg looked to his brother.
"He's not the true heir for House Targaryen. That honour belongs to Aegon. A boy I will raise in my household. How much dragon do you think will be left in any of them by the time they reach their age of majority, brother? Or do you think me incompetent in that as well?"
Tywin's lips turned down until finally, he conceded the point.
"No. It is good they will be raised by lions. Still."
Tyg did roll his eyes then. His brother always had to have the last word.
"Still what? Viserys is young. Many bad things can happen to a child that young."
Tywin snorted at him.
"If you think Viserys is vulnerable, what does that make a boy barely a month old? Be careful brother, for they will come for him. Of that I have no doubt," Tywin warned ominously.
A pit settled in Tygett's stomach as he thought about how right his brother was. He knew that all the children of Aerys and Rhaegar were vulnerable – they were so young. The Targ loyalists would want them to rally to their cause. Others might want to see them dead. Either way, Tyg would have his hands full keeping his family of dragons safe.
"What's worse is that a fleet that is far more powerful than any we have, is now in Essos, out of our reach," Tywin snarled.
On that, Tyg conceded his brother had a point. The Crown's navy was woefully inadequate.
"Good thing you have Stannis to rebuild your armada, brother."
Tywin snorted.
"Even with my gold, it will take years. And it's not just the Royal Fleet. The Redwyne Fleet hides at the Arbor. The Iron Born have not responded to my request. Our enemies have the upper hand when it comes to the seas."
Tygett grunted, knowing Tywin was correct. It was a worrisome point.
Tywin cocked his head at Tygett.
"You will help Stannis with rebuilding our navy."
With that, Tywin kicked his horse, leaving a stunned Tygett glaring at him. Tywin knew how much he hated the fucking water. He wondered if this was his punishment for failing to secure Viserys.
Jaime's snicker drew Tygett's attention to his nephew, who looked quite at home in King's Landing and every inch the son of the mighty Tywin Lannister. Jaime's armour gleamed as bright as his hair, and he looked fit and tanned – not like he's spent the past three weeks on a fucking boat and on that mysterious island full of black glass filled with fucking dragons.
"What crawled up his arse?" Tygett muttered.
"We received word that Stafford is in a snit, holed up in Lannisport with Lorch," Jaime responded.
Understanding lit Tygett's eyes.
"What else did I miss?"
Jaime shrugged.
"My father and Sansa decided to keep Varys alive."
Tywin's son frowned.
"I'm not sure that is the wisest choice. The moment the Spider realizes how intelligent and adored Sansa is, he'll strike. He cannot win against her – the common people and peasants will flock to her. She is already beloved."
Both men looked worried at that statement. They both knew how paranoid Tywin could be when it came to Sansa and how much she might bristle under his … domineering personality. So far, she'd taken his harshest personality traits in stride; but Tywin was likely only going to get worse the more people that arrived in the capital as well as the closer Sansa came to giving birth.
Not that either man blamed him.
Tywin had lost one beloved wife and had come close to losing another. What might happen if the Spider did strike?
And now, with Viserys lost to them, with a navy at his beck and call, he had become a genuine threat.
And that didn't even touch upon the issue of those lords from the Reach and the Crownlands that had backed House Targaryen in the Rebellion. While many lords would present themselves to the new King to swear their allegiance and beg for mercy, others would not.
Tywin could not and would not let those that refused to bend the knee go unpunished. And that would create even more enemies he would have to deal with. Tywin had every right to remain vigilant about Sansa's safety.
Any who thought this war was over were sorely mistaken.
There were times that Tygett envied his brother.
But not now. Not when the threats seemed more prevalent than they ever had.
Thankfully, House Lannister's position was stronger than it had ever been, and now he was home.
Tygett was prepared to defend those he loved with blood and steel if needs be. House Lannister had risen far, and none of the lions had any intentions of letting the power they'd secured slip through their fingers.
They arrived at Eastern Den, and Tygett immediately gathered his small family, ushering them towards Elia's chambers. Rhae was once again in his arms, but she was gazing curiously at the baby that Elia was holding. Aegon was safely ensconced within the nursery, nursemaids and guards present.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Tywin with his hand on Sansa's back, accompanying her and the cubs into the lavish Lannister mansion.
The man looked worried, even here, where his family was safe. Which made Tygett worry. Tywin might be a pain in his arse and the least jovial man Tygett knew, but his brother was rarely wrong. The man had well-honed instincts that had served House Lannister well. If the Great Lion was worried, that meant there were things to worry about.
A small cry drew Tygett's attention back to his own woman.
Elia was frowning. Tygett looked around to try to find out what had upset her. He saw the two wetnurses hovering beside her, casting her dirty looks as Dany began to wail. It was clear there was already friction between the three of them.
"Who are they?" she asked him, a snap to her voice.
"They are the ones who have been keeping the babe alive," Tygett responded evenly.
He didn't miss how the women glowered at Elia nor how the woman he loved did not seem to warm to these women.
Tygett sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, feeling the beard that had grown in the month he'd been gone. There were always problems when too many women occupied the same space. He ignored the wetnurses, turning his attention to the woman that mattered. The only one who mattered.
"Come, love, let them get settled. If they don't suit you, you can get new ones," Tygett said, his voice loud enough to carry to the two women he'd brought back with him from Dragonstone. He wanted no doubt about whom he would choose should these women continue to pose a problem for Elia. He'd have them on a ship back to Dragonstone faster than one could say Targaryen whore before he'd let them upset Elia.
And both women would soon learn that their new Lord Paramount of that island was this woman that they were glaring at.
Tyg needed his brother to announce his betrothal to Elia immediately. He wanted there to be no doubts as to whom he belonged to.
"They are eyeing you up as if you are theirs and I am the interloper," Elia muttered darkly under her breath, glowering at the women.
Tygett frowned at that, taking the baby and handing her to the wet nurse. Then he hurried Elia to her private chambers needing to have a word with her.
Once they were alone, he watched as she paced, wringing her hands.
"I know that nothing official has been announced and that I am still in my mourning period. You've been away for a month, and I know the reputation that you have ---"
He knew where she was going with this. Tyg could see the doubt and worry on her face. He didn't blame her, especially after what Rhaegar had done to her. But he was not Rhaegar, and he'd be damned if Elia had any doubts about him or his devotion to her.
Tygett growled and stalked towards her, drawing her into his arms and kissing her passionately. She let out a sweet little moan and pressed back against him. Gods, he fucking ached for her. His cock roared to life, hard as granite, and it was all he could do to stop himself from fucking her right now, taking what they both wanted, their brothers be damned.
The more Elia moaned, the more passionately he kissed her, winding his hands into her dark hair, their tongues duelling as she pressed closer to him.
He smelled, he was exhausted, his beard itched, and he still had his sea legs – but seven hells if he was going to let her get into her own head. When he finally broke the kiss, they both panted, and Tyg cupped Elia's face in his hand hands.
"Stop. I love you, Elia. Only you. Women might look, but I will never do anything with any of them. I vow that to you, here and now. Neither one of those women shared my bed, no matter what they might insinuate. I would never do that to you," he said gruffly, reaffirming his promise to her.
Her eyes brightened, sheened with tears as her hands dug into his beard. It felt good, feeling her fingers against his skin, caressing him as she was. His cock twitched, desperate to be in her sweet cunt.
He knew that would only be inviting disaster.
Elia Martell was not a woman one fucked before one pledged vows to. But gods, did he want to say those vows in front of everyone so that the entire world knew she belonged to him.
"I missed you," she whispered and then pressed her lips against his again.
He had her in his arms, for she was a slight thing, and somehow found a chair and sat, so Elia was on his lap, and they were free to touch one another.
"Good thing your brother isn't here," Tygett said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
Elia snorted.
"I am hardly a maiden, and my brother is the last man to speak about his activities in the bedroom. I know his reputation," she said.
Tygett chuckled. He liked it when she got feisty, thinking it was the Dornish blood in her. She would need it, given the task in front of them. Those in the Crownlands that had supported the Targs for three hundred years would need to pledge to her and her son, while they kept the eastern border safe at Dragonstone.
Unwilling to let her go quite yet, Tyg wrapped his arm around Elia, loving how she snuggled deeper into his embrace. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling that spicy scent that was unique to her. There was no way she didn't feel his cock pressing into her arse, but she didn't seem to mind.
"I missed you," he murmured softly, wondering the last time he'd ever been so gentle in his life.
His entire life had been marred with violence and war. But with Elia, being soft was as easy as breathing.
"We missed you as well. And now you've brought another child home. A woman might almost wonder," Elia quipped, which had Tygett's chest rumbling.
"I may have been a rogue in my day, but to my knowledge, I've no bastards that will be knocking on our doors. Just the three little sundragons we currently have. How is Aegon?" he asked, noting he hadn't yet seen the boy.
Tygett didn't miss how Elia's eyes softened when he asked about her son, as she rushed to fill him in on how much Aegon had grown in the month he had been away.
"Rhaenys loves the lion cubs."
Elia frowned.
"She wasn't even afraid. Within moments she was in a pile with them."
That pleased Tygett greatly. He knew the blood these children had, but he would make them part lion by the time they had reached their majority.
Eventually, his own smell had him reluctantly letting Elia go. It frustrated Tygett that his chambers were apart from hers and promised he'd return – quickly.
He left her in charge of a busy household, seeing the look of envy on one of the nursemaid's faces as he slipped out of Elia's chambers. It was evident that the woman from Dragonstone had hoped she might strike something up with him. That would not happen.
Tygett stalked towards the library, where he was sure to find his brother.
Tywin didn't know how to relax, and he knew that his brother would be bothered by these latest developments. He'd be at his desk, working. The man never stopped. He was relentless.
Sansa, thankfully, appeared to be resting, so Tywin was alone. Tyg closed the door and leaned over his brother's impressive desk.
Tywin, stubborn arse, ignored Tyg for a moment until he finally put his quill down, and raised his eyes to address Tygett.
"What do you want?"
"I wish to be wed. Soon."
Tywin snorted and shook his head.
"Do I need to remind you that Elia still has an older brother whose permission we must seek?"
Tygett frowned.
"I thought you wished for us to be married. For House Lannister to raise the offspring of House Targaryen."
"Of course I do. I can think of nothing better than to make these children love the lions of Casterly Rock. But I will not create undue animosity between Dorne and ourselves by allowing you to rush headlong into this marriage. I will write Doran tomorrow, reminding him that it was Jaime that rescued Elia and that it was House Lannister that keeps these children of Aerys and Rhaegar safe."
Tyg snarled, not liking the further delay in making Elia his, but knowing he could do nothing about it.
Tywin drilled his fingers against his desk; his brow was furrowed, deep in thought.
"What?" Tyg answered, realizing his brother had something on his mind.
Tywin sighed.
"In the other timeline, Doran arranged a marriage, between Viserys and Arianne. I am worried he might try something similar."
"All the more reason to announce my betrothal to Elia," Tygett pushed.
Tywin grunted.
"I will compose the raven now."
Tygett nodded and rose.
"I won't wait long, Tywin. I don't care what the consequences might be. I love Elia, and she will be mine. Her and her children."
Tywin arched an eyebrow at his brother, for he knew how bullheaded Tyg could be.
"Don't do anything stupid," Tywin warned.
To that, Tygett winked at Tywin, knowing it would drive his brother mad. He had spent his entire life doing reckless things. But he wouldn't jeopardize his chance to be with Elia. He would wait – for now to hear from Sunspear.
"You know that even if Doran doesn't give his blessing, you'll escort Elia to the Great Sept yourself. You can't fool me, brother. We will have three dragons under my care when I am wedded to Elia, along with the Crownlands and Dragonstone. That is not an opportunity you can pass up. Even you know how critical she is for your reign."
Tywin frowned and gave a short, jerky nod.
"Tell me about Rhaella. Did she suffer?" Tywin asked suddenly, with quiet intensity.
To any who didn't know his brother, they would think the man cold. But Tygett saw the tick in Tywin's jaw. He had cared for Aerys' wife and looked upon the former Queen much like he would a sister. That Rhaella had died the same way that Joanna had would bother Tywin deeply.
Tygett grimaced as he remembered the hell of that birthing room. He suppressed the shudder, but barely. Women were the most fascinating creatures – fragile in so many things and yet capable of such incredible strength when it came to their offspring.
"It wasn't pleasant. But in the end, she had my promise that no harm would come to her child. I believe that gave her a measure of peace."
Tywin's fist clenched, and he said nothing for a time.
"How does a man that has so much let it all slip away?" Tywin muttered.
Tygett had no answer for him. Tywin wasn't looking for one, and they both knew it.
Had Aerys been like other Kings, he would have been content to sit back and let Tywin run his kingdom, reaping the rewards that came from a Westeros that was at peace. But madness had consumed him, and he'd lost everything.
Smelling himself again, Tyg frowned. He was eager for a bath and to get back to his family, so Tygett took his leave.
He loved Elia and her children. He already had an affinity for the little, purple-eyed baby he'd brought home. This marriage to her wasn't about an alliance or power for him, but he wasn't stupid.
Leaving the Targaryens alive only worked if they could nurture these children under House Lannister's banner and if they could make these children with dragon blood, love the lions, wolves, stags, trout and falcons of Westeros.
They needed to foster these children in such a manner that they might never turn against them, knowing how beloved they were. It was a daunting task, but one that Tygett Lannister welcomed.
Then deciding he'd done enough politicking for the day, Tygett pushed all thoughts of why his marriage to Elia was advantageous to his House out of his mind and focused on getting himself clean so he could spend time with those that he cared about most in this world.
King's Landing – Sansa
Sansa managed to slip into Elia's chambers when Tygett had left. She knew that the two brothers would need to speak, and she wanted to see the newborn Tygett had brought back. She wouldn't say she had baby fever, but she did feel something tug at her heart upon spotting the small baby.
Sansa had the two cubs with her. They were her constant shadows, following her around when they weren't 'training' with Sandor. Their training consisted mainly of Sandor stimulating them in games that would encourage their prey drive.
Sandor had also taught them how to do their business outside, and there was a special place designated as their bathroom in one of the far gardens that the lions used, quite to her amusement. In some ways, the cubs seemed nothing more than large house cats, though their teeth and claws were already sharp and soon would be deadly.
Sansa was most pleased with their bathroom habits and had given Sandor quite the compliment at that accomplishment.
Both Tywin and Sansa were surprised with how well Sandor had adapted to Eastern Den. It helped that the first night he arrived, he and Jaime got roaring drunk, waking almost the entire household when they'd returned from some of the more disreputable pubs near the docks.
Tywin had scowled at Jaime and scolded him for being so foolish, but Jaime had waved a hand at Tywin, brushing aside his father's worries.
"No one would dare harm me," Jaime had quipped. "I am the son of the King."
Even stumbling drunk, they were still intimidating as could be, so Jaime had a point.
Sandor grunted and muttered how they had been left alone the entire night and seemed far less inebriated than Jaime. Neither Tywin nor Sansa had missed how Sandor likely stayed sober to watch out for the Great Lion's son.
No one asked what the two men had discussed, nor what they had gotten up to, but the following day, nursing heavy heads, Sandor and Jaime had been thick as thieves, training with one another and taking care of the lion cubs together.
Jaime adored the cubs, much like Sansa thought he would.
Sansa was utterly delighted at their friendship, knowing they would do well if they could learn to trust one another. Both were now young lords from the Westerlands.
With the threat of Aerys' gone, and the air mostly cleared between father and son, Sansa was getting a true sense of who Jaime Lannister was.
In the history books, he'd always been portrayed as arrogant, snide, mocking and vain.
And he could be those things. It was almost impossible to belong to House Lannister and not have some of those characteristics. They were the wealthiest house in the realm and certainly one of the most powerful. Tywin had raised Jaime to embrace that arrogance, and to a certain extent, that distance that had sprung up after Joanna's death had only added to the conceit that Jaime could display.
But he wasn't just those things. He was also warm and caring, open and easy to smile. He liked to jape, but he wasn't cruel about it.
He seemed far more lighthearted now that he wasn't guarding a man like Aerys and wasn't stuck between two siblings that hated one another.
Sansa thought much of Jaime's newfound happiness was because he was free from the demands that Cersei heaped upon him. Now, he was free to become his own man.
In short, Jaime had his future back, along with his father, who was at least trying with his son.
Sansa imagined this was what Jaime must have been like before being named a Kingsguard. When he'd been a boy and dreamed of becoming a knight, defending those that could not defend themselves and fighting for what was right. He'd fulfilled that dream most admirably in rescuing Elia Martell.
There were moments when she still found Jaime melancholy and mired in grief; she understood that feeling well. She, too, missed those that were no longer with her.
When she came across Jaime like that, she would sit quietly with him and share stories about her father and uncle. He would do the same, telling her about his siblings, his uncle Gerion and even his friend, Addam Marbrand. It helped them both, and their bond of friendship grew deeper by the day.
With Tygett now back, Sansa knew that the Lannister men would be in deep discussions about Viserys' escape. Sansa hadn't missed how upset Tywin was with that news – especially when she had disclosed to him what Viserys had set in motion in her timeline.
But those were worries for another day.
Tywin didn't have the armada to chase after Viserys, and they had changed so much that Sansa had to believe that Viserys wasn't the threat that he and his sister had been in that other timeline.
And even if he did come for them, Sansa had to believe that their alliance, their army, and their knowledge would help protect House Lannister from a man like Viserys.
And speaking of dragons and lions, Sansa was eager to see the newest member of their household.
"Aunty," Rhaenys called when Sansa entered the family solar.
Sansa scooped the little girl up in her arms, delighted to be an aunt already. It was hard to believe how large Sansa's family had become and seemingly overnight. For a person that had grown up with very few people around her, Sansa embraced the large and unruly nature of House Lannister.
The cubs tumbled about, as comfortable in these rooms as they were in the entire castle. Sansa had spent quite a lot of time here when Tyg had been on Dragonstone.
"Down," Rhaenys demanded, eager to play with her new friends, Alex and Augy.
Sansa set her down and watched her run after the cubs, who thought it was a game as they loped off, deeper into the apartment. Rhaenys raced after them, commanding the lions to 'sit.' Neither cub listened to her. Sansa giggled at the picture they made.
When Rhaenys and the cubs were out of sight, Sansa turned back to the room and studied it.
The two women that Tygett had brought back from Dragonstone were there. They had a look about them that made Sansa uneasy, with their purple eyes and light blond hair. They were slim and pretty, both perhaps nineteen or twenty. By-blows from Targ lords on Dragonstone were called dragon seeds, and it was apparent that these two women had some Targ blood in them.
Both women looked decidedly unhappy here.
There was an uneasy tension in the room, where Elia rocked Aegon, who looked positively huge compared to the newborn that suckled at one of the woman's breasts. The wetnurse appeared to find no shame in baring her chest to them all. It was as if she were saying she was worthy since she could give this child sustenance, whereas Elia could not.
Sansa exchanged a knowing glance with her soon-to-be goodsister, who looked livid at the two new women that were ensconced in her household. Pretty, young women who clearly longed for more.
The silence stretched until the baby was done nursing, and then Sansa rose to take the infant from the wetnurse.
The woman glared at her, and for the first time since she was back in time, Sansa used her position to her advantage.
"You are new here, in the capital, so perhaps you are unaware, but Princess Elia is a dear friend to me. Anyone who upsets her risks my wrath," Sansa said, voice cool and assertive. The words rolled naturally off her lips as she reminded these two just who she was.
The woman glared up at her.
"That baby is a dragon from the last true King of the Seven."
Sansa snorted.
"That baby was saved by my goodbrother and will be brought up under House Lannister banners. Leave," Sansa commanded.
The first woman looked to her companion as if debating if they should.
"It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command. Both of you, leave these apartments, now."
They hurried out of the room, shooting glares at Sansa and muttering under their breath in what Sansa could only assume was Valyrian. Sansa knew she had made no friends with those two, but she would not have Elia upset in her own chambers.
"Well done," Elia said, impressed.
Sansa huffed out a breath as she retook her seat by Elia.
"Those two were trouble. I am sure we will have no problems finding a milk nurse for this little one," Sansa said and then looked at the infant she was holding, cooing to Dany. The baby's bright purple eyes gazed up at her as she kicked her legs and bunched up a tiny fist.
"They want to share Tygett's bed," Elia blurted out and then blushed red.
Sansa merely arched an eyebrow at her friend, hoping that her goodbrother hadn't been an idiot that thought with his little head instead of his big one. If he'd fucked either woman on the boat home, Sansa would give him an earful. She, too, was well aware of Ser Tygett Lannister's reputation.
"Tyg said he didn't sleep with them," Elia added as relief coursed through Sansa that he hadn't done something monumentally idiotic.
Elia cocked her head.
"Oddly enough, I believe him, though the gods know that man has a reputation."
Considering that Tygett was a tall, blond hunk of a man, Sansa didn't doubt that he'd had a fair number of women warming his bed over the years. But now he had pledged himself to Elia, and damn if Sansa would put up with him acting like a man whore no matter how good looking he was.
"Well, he is yours now. Before I came here, I saw him stalking down the hall towards Tywin's study. I am sure he is demanding to know when you can announce your betrothal."
"You think so?" Elia asked, uncertainty colouring her voice.
Sansa had no doubts as to what Tyg felt for Elia but had to remind herself that her friend had been publicly humiliated a short time ago by her husband. Perhaps it was natural to feel some doubt when another man seemed so willing to be everything one's first husband was not.
Loyal. Loving. Steadfast.
"I do," Sansa said, making her voice firm.
She believed that Tyg was entirely in love with Elia and wished to marry her – soon.
"Now, let us look at this little one, shall we?" Sansa cooed again, watching as Dany kicked her tiny legs.
"When I married Rhaegar, we didn't have much affection between us. He wasn't a bad man, just distant. I had hoped that my goodmother and I might become close," Elia said softly.
Aegon was sleeping in her arms as she rocked him.
Sansa turned her head, still with Dany on her lap. The baby seemed content for now and it was evident that Elia had something on her mind.
"And you did not?" Sansa asked, wondering what having a goodmother might be like. Neither she nor Tywin had any parents left alive.
Elia shook her head.
"I don't think Rhaella had the ability to be close with anyone. Viserys, perhaps, but already Aerys had his claws into his son. With Rhaegar gone, Aerys poured all his hatred and bigotry into that boy. I fear what he will become."
Sansa merely nodded, knowing that Viserys could pose a real threat to them all.
"It was horrible, living here. When Rhaegar was around, he kept me from his father. But when he was gone ..."
Elia shuddered her voice dropping, a haunted look in her eyes.
"He would burn people and become aroused. One time, Rhaella shared with me that the only time he came to her bed was after such an event. Near the end, he didn't bathe or clip his nails or hair. He was covered in open wounds that pussed and wept, but wouldn't let anyone dress them, so he smelled. And even in such a state, he would still demand his wife. I helped her, more than once, after a visit from him, and she would be covered in burns and bites and welts he'd heaped upon her form."
Sansa felt her stomach roil. She reached for Elia's hand and gripped it hard.
"You are safe now," Sansa said, though there was a part of Sansa that questioned that thought. They were in a position of power now, but the historian in her knew how fragile that power could be. It was why Sansa understood Tywin's near manic obsession with ensuring that they made the best choices possible for their reign; to solidify his position.
Elia shuddered.
"It was Ser Jaime that questioned things the most in King's Landing. He didn't like Aerys from the start and wasn't enamoured with the King as some older guards were. I think Ser Arthur hated Aerys as well. Others, well, they did not like me, so they paid me little attention. But Arthur and Jaime were good to me. They did what they could when they were allowed."
Sansa had to bite her lip from saying more – from raging against men who could swear vows and adhere to a brotherhood they held sacred and yet, allow a man like Aerys to continue to reign.
Sansa would never understand how they could stand by and let Aerys burn people alive, rape his wife and instill terror in so many.
It was wrong. And not even by modern standards. It was wrong by the standards of this time, here and now. Perhaps many in modern times wouldn't understand how this world worked since this society she now found herself living in was so different from where and when she had come. Some might think that this was a world of nothing but chaos, bloodshed and violence.
Sansa wouldn't deny the violence part, but there was a system in place – one that was understood from the King to a Lord Paramount, to minor nobles, the gentry and the commoners.
A contract existed between lord and vassal – an oath. But as Sansa was coming to realize, it was more than an oath, this contract between lord and vassal.
It was the building block of this society, this relationship between those who ruled and the people they ruled over.
Anyone who bent the knee and swore fealty to their Overlord owed that lord their allegiance and their loyalty. They entered into a contract to serve that lord, faithfully and well and in turn, that lord promised to protect and provide for them. A Lord Paramount and even the minor nobility's livelihood was built upon the stability of their lands and estates and their ability to keep their people safe and rule them well.
That was why so many hated her husband. Tywin could be brutal. And cold. And demanding. But he was also a brilliant administrator, and those under his protection prospered. The realm had prospered under his guidance and leadership when he had been Hand to Aerys. It was what had caused so much discontent between the one-time friends - how successful Tywin was not as a man in battle but as an administrator.
If someone broke their vow to their lord, the punishment was swift and ruthless and harsh – especially by modern standards. But equally, if an overlord broke their vows, then it became the vassal's duty to rise up in rebellion and hold that lord accountable for their actions.
That same contract existed with a King.
Any King.
Ned Stark had every legal right to hold King Aerys to account for his unlawful punishment of his father and brother. Many houses loyal to House Targaryen argued that the King had absolute power, but that was simply not true.
Medieval feudalism was not totalitarianism, a fact that far too many rulers overlooked or forgot.
The feudal system was a system based on the seriousness of these sworn oaths, which in and of itself did not permit totalitarianism. Just as Lords swore vows to the King as vassals to him, the King also swore to the Lords to govern them faithfully and legally.
In the case of the illegal deaths of Rickard and Brandon Stark, when Aerys refused them a proper trial, it was imperative that the vassal houses rose up to hold the King accountable for his actions and restore the balance of that feudal contract.
Ned Stark had no other choice but to rise in Rebellion at what Aerys had done. Lords had every right to expect that their monarch would rule them fairly and according to the societal laws and conventions of the times. And when a King or a Lord broke that contract, well, then that demanded rebellion.
And now Sansa found herself in that top position along with Tywin – a very powerful man who understood this complex system in a way few did. He was a master at knowing when to be harsh and when to rule fairly.
Her experiences with such a system had all been academic until she'd ended up in ancient Westeros six months ago. Now as Queen, she needed to navigate this intriguing but multifaceted world that wasn't quite as simple as some might believe.
"King Aerys was not a man who ruled well or fairly," Sansa said, her voice firm.
Elia looked at her and swallowed hard.
"Soon, I will be asked to stand as regent for my son. He will be given vast lands and become powerful, and therefore so will I. How do I ensure the people love us? That they do not wish him dead, simply because of who his grandfather was?" Elia asked.
"Remember the mistakes Aerys made, my friend and do not repeat them. Rule your people fairly, and justly, and according to our laws and conventions."
"I do not know if I can be ruthless if it is required," Elia whispered, reaching for Sansa's hand.
Sansa squeezed her friend's hand hard.
"You will do what is necessary. Ruthlessness may be required at times, but so will compassion. I have faith in you."
Elia nodded.
"Thank you, Sansa. I've never had a friend quite like you."
That pleased Sansa greatly, and the women turned their attention to the children as Rhaenys came racing into the room with the two cubs nipping at her heels, howling in delight.
Sansa left Elia when Tygett returned. Her goodbrother pressed a kiss to her cheek and promised that they would sup with them tomorrow; tonight, he wished to be alone with Elia. There was something in his eyes, and so Sansa left them and went to find her own husband, missing him.
She found Tywin in the central solar, surrounded by his ledgers, parchments, and ink pots. He had several quills at the ready and a sheaf of parchment before him, indicating that he still had important letters to write though the hour grew late.
Sansa paused at the entrance to the solar, taking this moment to study him. After all, she had been obsessed with the Great Lion for years, and now, here she was, living in his house, as his wife. It gave her unmitigated access to a man she thought she knew everything about but had quickly realized how much she had yet to learn.
She liked the quiet of Eastern Den and how she felt she had time to gather her thoughts.
Unlike modern times, the sounds of a household such as the one she currently lived in were more muted.
There were more people here than even she knew – endless servants to see to their every need. There was no doubt that they lived a life of extreme privilege.
But this time was quieter than the 21st century
There were no machines, no instant music on a phone, no ringing and buzzing of electronics, no drone of a television, or the background noise of vehicles on the streets. There was no hum from electric lightning and no radio that some people always had to have on.
Instead, there was the scratch of his quill against the parchment and the crackle of a fire. Even though they were in the south, and it was warm, there was always a fire. There was no other way to heat a home as large as Eastern Den without a fire. There were voices in the background but low and distant and Sansa knew that a household as large as theirs never really slept.
But still – here it was quiet.
"Something is on your mind."
Tywin's voice interrupted her musings, and Sansa stepped fully into the solar, shutting the door behind her. She saw he had put his quill down, indicating she had his full attention. The busiest man in the realm and he always made time for her. Sansa's heart melted.
"Oh, so many things, but nothing urgent."
It was the truth. Sansa's thoughts about the society in which she now lived and how it governed itself would need to be addressed – but it didn't have to be done tonight.
"How is the little dragon?"
Sansa couldn't help but smile gently. Even knowing the terrible choices Daenerys had made, the baby was innocent. Sansa hoped that Dany would have a much better life than she had in her timeline.
"Precious," Sansa answered and sighed gratefully as she sunk into a comfortable chair.
She closed her eyes for a moment and rested, hearing Tywin push back his own chair. She hadn't meant to interrupt him, but she was glad he would give her some of his time. She kept her eyes closed as she felt him lift her legs and place them on the ottoman, further easing the increasing burden she seemed to carry.
Sansa swore she was three times the size of her sister and grumbled about Tywin's large children invading her womb.
She smelt him, a combination of leather and sandalwood, as he took a seat next to her and placed a large hand on her stomach as his lips brushed against her temple. She sighed contentedly and snuggled into his warm embrace. His hand went to her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles as she let out a little moan of delight.
"Are you going to tell me what had you so deep in thought?" Tywin asked, his breath against her ear. It made her shiver most delightfully.
Sansa opened her eyes to find him close, and those green-gold eyes were locked on her face.
"I was thinking about good governance and the contract that exists between a lord and his subjects," she answered truthfully.
Tywin's lips twitched.
"You are a constant delight," he murmured.
He kissed her softly.
"With Tygett back in King's Landing, I believe it is time we met and discussed the next steps in our reign."
She nodded eagerly and then wrapped her arms around his neck.
Tomorrow would be here soon enough. Tonight, she wanted her husband.
Not the King of the Seven.
Not the Warden of the West.
Not the Lord of Casterly Rock or the most powerful man in the realm.
She just wanted Tywin Lannister, the man she'd come through time to be with. The man who had her entire heart.
As if he read her mind, he rose, elegant, powerful, and graceful and held out his hand to her. Her breath caught at how handsome he was. That lean face, the golden hair, and green eyes could be so expressive when he wished. She was helpless to do anything but respond.
"Come, love."
She gratefully clasped her hand in his, knowing he would dedicate this night to her alone.
The realm could wait.
Tomorrow they would plan and set in motion how to create the dynasty her husband dreamed of.
But tonight, well, that was just for them, as husband and wife.
True to his word, Tywin decreed that she, Jaime and Tygett would meet after they broke their fast the following morning. There was a tenseness to her husband that Sansa hadn't previously seen – not even when she had told Tywin what she knew about the Mad King.
It made her glad that Tygett was back. Tywin needed his family.
Since they had taken King's Landing, Sansa had quickly realized that her dream about breaking the Seven apart was just that – a dream.
Perhaps one day, such a thing might be accomplished, but now was not the time. Even she knew that. The Mad King had left things in shambles, and the realm was too unstable, with far too many noble houses that had been on the other side of this war still to be dealt with.
Which meant that there were some difficult times ahead, ones in which Sansa was determined to navigate well – to be an asset not only to her husband but to the realm itself. To conduct herself as a Queen of this time would.
Owing to her state, now six months pregnant with twins, Sansa settled on the comfortable settee while Tyg and Jaime took seats for the meeting.
Tywin ruled from behind his impressive desk. He wore a black leather doublet with a golden sash and black leather boots. There was an air of seriousness and urgency to him that Sansa could not recall previously seeing.
He had been busy in the past week.
Crowns had been commissioned for them both – golden lions, of course. Sansa had been shocked at the extravagance, but he'd assured her it was expected.
Ravens had been sent to House Royce and House Dayne, inviting Lady's Ysilla Royce and Ashara Dayne to King's Landing to form Sansa's Court. Their responses had been enthusiastic and eager, and both ladies now made their way to the capital. Sansa was both nervous and excited to meet them both.
Tywin continued to oversee the examination of the Red Keep and the numerous buildings that had been affected by the wildfire.
And they had finally taken a tour of Flea Bottom, with Varys, to inspect the rotten state in which people lived.
There was no shortage of things that needed their attention; on that, there was no debate.
Tywin coughed and opened his mouth to begin, a grim look on his handsome but severe face.
A knock interrupted him.
"What?" Tywin barked, shooting an annoyed glance at the door.
He was impatient to start.
Sansa's attention was drawn from her husband as a servant appeared with a cart laden with a coffee service. Milk, cream, and honey, along with four cups and a generous carafe of the delightful brew that she had introduced House Lannister to.
Tywin's lips twitched as he sniffed the air. It hadn't taken long for her husband to develop a taste for coffee, although he restricted himself to no more than two cups a day. He positively buzzed when he had some, and Sansa had refrained from commenting on how 'hyped' up he got when he indulged.
"Ahh, well, yes, proceed," he said gruffly, knowing that Sansa took great delight in her one cup a day. As did he. He fooled no one, as Sansa and Jaime exchanged a knowing look.
"What in seven hells is that?" Tygett sniffed, looking at the dark, rich brew.
Sansa suppressed a giggle as Tywin coughed, prepared to explain what coffee was when Jaime enthusiastically interrupted his father.
Tywin's son had warmed to the beverage as well.
Tywin scowled at Jaime, who launched into an animated explanation of Sansa's trip to Fishmonger's Wharf, her purchase of green beans they all thought worthless and then how she came home and upended Cook's kitchen by roasting the beans before showing them how to utilize them properly.
"It's slightly bitter, but honey and thick cream help," Jaime said, liberally dosing his cup. He moaned when he took his first sip.
Tywin's teeth ground as his fingers flexed, a look of complete annoyance on his face.
"Can we start? Or am I interrupting your tea party, Jaime?" he barked at his son.
Jaime didn't even bat an eye at Tywin's snarl, helping Tygett doctor his cup of Joe.
Sansa smothered her laugh at how annoyed her husband was at the two of them; Tyg and Jaime waxed on about coffee and different ways they might try it.
"Enough!" Tywin bellowed, finally drawing the attention of his son and brother.
"Time grows short," he snapped as both men sat back, gazes upon the Great Lion. They were unphased by Tywin's outburst, having long ago grown used to his demands.
Sansa felt a thrill at seeing Tywin in moments like these.
How many hours had she spent in academic debates over the very nuances of such meetings? She couldn't even tell. Now she was living it!
Gods, what she wouldn't give to march into some of her master's level history courses and tell her professors just how wrong they had been - about so many things.
"There are matters that require our attention; decisions before us that will shape the realm for years to come. Some might think the hard work is done. Aerys is dead. Rhaegar is dead. We have the Iron Throne."
He paused, and the effect was dramatic, looking at each one of them.
"But they would be wrong. In truth, the Mad King has left us a rare opportunity to better the fortunes of those in our house and our closest allies, but this will not be easy. It will require our diligence, our determination and our army."
"How?" Jaime asked.
With that, Tywin pushed back from his desk and rose, stalking towards his large, impressive map. He had most of the markers in King's Landing, and Sansa felt a little thrill about this discussion that was about to take place. Jaime helped her to her feet as they joined Tywin at the large table, where markers represented the different regions.
Sansa had long thought that Robert had been negligent in the aftermath of the Rebellion. He had allowed regions he'd been at war with to go unpunished.
Worse, he'd rewarded some of them!
House Florent had married a daughter to Stannis. House Tyrell had seen none of their lands, titles, or castles stripped from them. And House Redwyne? They had maintained the largest fleet in the Seven, even after fighting for House Targaryen.
It was appalling.
Tywin would not allow such a thing to happen under his rule.
"Two regions, the Reach and the Crownlands, pledged to House Targaryen. Every house in those regions went to war for the dragons. There were also houses in the Riverlands, Stormlands and the Vale that sided with House Targaryen. While some suffered the loss of their lord, others escaped relatively unscathed."
Tywin grimaced, his eyes fixated on his map.
"Some of those men are in our custody. Paxtor Redwyne, Mace Tyrell, Alliser Thorne and Randyll Tarly. Whether they bend the knee, though, remains to be seen."
There was a gleam in his eyes as if he knew something they did not.
"What is your plan, husband?" Sansa asked, intrigued.
She, too, leaned forward, feeling that thrill of power course through her veins. It was a heady feeling to hold not just the livelihoods but the future of such great houses in their hands.
"We have the opportunity to better our fortunes considerably," he announced, looking directly at her.
Sansa's quick mind began to understand what her husband had planned. She knew he was waiting for her response as if to see if she might object. After all, there had been times when things in the past had made her … uneasy. This would not be one of them, though. She vehemently disagreed with how Robert had conducted himself after the Rebellion and was eager to learn what Tywin had in store.
"Go on," she said, voice fully in command, and she saw his nostrils flare in approval.
"Ravens left this morning to those who lost the Rebellion to present themselves in King's Landing to swear their allegiance to the Queen and I. If they do so, they will have land and gold stripped from them, keeping their titles and castles. If they bend the knee and swear fealty to House Lannister, they may yet have a chance to restore their fortunes after a decade of loyal service to our great house."
Sansa nodded, looking at the map, trying to anticipate which houses would do so.
Who would bend the knee?
Men who were married or with children were more likely to not want to lose everything. Tywin's terms seemed more than generous for those Houses that were willing to acknowledge their reign.
"And what of those that don't bend the knee?" Jaime asked, curious more than anything.
That was the real question – the heart of this discussion. This was what would shape Westeros for years to come.
Sansa knew Tywin well, and she could see it in his eyes. He was counting on some of these nobles to not show their faces. He was counting on their defiance.
"Those who do not come, who do not swear to House Lannister, who do not give us their featly, will have their titles, castles, and lands stripped from them. Permanently," he added, darkly, looking directly at her.
Without saying it, Tywin was essentially sending those that did not respond to his summons into exile once he took their titles, lands, and castles from them.
Sansa met his gaze.
"You speak of the Act of Attainder," she said.
All three lions looked at her.
"What is that?" Tywin demanded.
At this moment, he did not feel like her husband. He felt like a very powerful and demanding lord. He felt like the Great Lion – a man at the height of his power. This was Tywin Lannister as his most commanding and potent. This was the man who reigned supreme.
Power felt like a tangible thing in this room.
She knew why people feared Tywin then – the intensity of his gaze would bring her to her knees if she didn't know she had his heart.
She furrowed her brow, thinking how she might explain the Act of Attainder to these men.
"Essentially, it was an Act, or a proclamation, from the Crown that declared a person, or a group of people, guilty of a crime. In naming this group guilty through this Act, it punished them without allowing for a trial. It was only used for the most grievous offenses – charges like treason. A King would issue the bill or the Act, and it effectively prevented that person, or persons, from owning property and passing that property on to their heirs. It denied them their right to their titles of nobility, and in some cases, even the right to life itself."
She frowned.
"Such an Act was only used in the most extreme cases – where a King would take the lives of the guilty without any type of trial."
Tywin grunted as he thought about her words.
She knew that Tywin would be well within his rights to demand the heads of those from the major houses of the Reach and Crownlands if those lords did not bend the knee. They had been at war and had been on the losing side.
Taking their titles, castles, and lands might seem harsh to her, but death was infinitely more final.
"You understand why I must do this," he asked, voice low and intense, looking only at her.
Jaime and Tyg had faded into the background.
She knew that even if she did not like this, Tywin would proceed regardless of her feelings on the matter.
"I do, Lord Husband. This is how the map of power is redrawn. This is what happens when one is victorious in war."
"But?" he pressed.
Gods, he knew her so well. He knew that there was more on her mind. Outwardly, Sansa showed none of the nerves she was feeling. She felt as if this were her first real test as Queen.
"But this will create discontent. If those who do not bend the knee lose everything, then they will essentially be forced into exile. Their children will not look kindly upon our actions."
Sansa paused and reached out, drawing a finger along the mighty Mander River. She knew her noble houses well. She had memorized all the major nobles' houses and their sigils and could recite them from memory by the time she was six years old.
The Reach already had a troubled history, and she knew that was where her husband looked to press the Lannister advantage.
There were some houses in the Reach, which would not show in King's Landing, despite Tywin's more than generous terms. They would think they could resist him – that they could hunker into their great keeps and challenge him to come and take what he threatened.
And come he would. This was Tywin Lannister – a man who at twenty years old had wiped two noble houses from the map in Westeros - in his own region. He wouldn't hesitate for a moment to do that to houses that refused to bow to him and acknowledge his claim.
Those would be the castles he would seize, the titles he would strip, and the lands he would claim - and redistribute them to those he was closest to. It was the price of doing war in this day and age.
"But I suppose if you were to take the heads of those men, we'd still create enemies," she added with a sign, frowning. She could only imagine the angst that chopping off heads would create with those left alive.
Tywin nodded.
"I am not a butcher unless it is required of me. We have based our entire rule on saving the realm's people from a monarch who had broken his fiduciary duty to his people. It was why we liberated King's Landing instead of sacking it. It is why I offer these men this chance, this single chance, to save their lives, the castles, and their titles. But if they do not, well I will be forced to act. And make no mistake, I will act. Such a slight will not go unpunished under my rule."
Sansa's gazed from the map to Tywin. She had almost forgotten that Jaime and Tygett were in the room, as it seemed like they were the only two people talking right now.
"We will have enemies no matter what choice we make. That is the conclusion you wish me to reach," she stated.
"That is the truth. I wish for you to see that and accept it. Winning the Rebellion was the easy part. Maintaining power is what is hard."
Sansa nodded.
"I will not have anyone question my choices, Sansa. Not even you. This is the time in which we live. But I will not punish those who do bend the knee too harshly. Only those that refuse to acknowledge that our house now rules will be dealt with in the harshest ways."
Tywin paused.
"In truth, they are lucky I do not march upon their castles and remind them what happens to those who cross me. Houses Reyne and Tarbeck would serve as good reminders as to what happens when one angers the lion. We are not sheep, My Lady. I will not make the same mistakes as Robert Baratheon. These houses will be punished. They will make a choice as to how harsh that punishment will be."
Sansa flexed her hand, trying to keep her hand from reaching for Tywin. She did understand why he would do this, and she knew he was being fair. More than fair. Tywin would be perfectly justified in executing all the Lords of the families who supported the Targs to the end. He was showing mercy by offering this lesser punishment, merely stripping them of those titles, castles and lands.
"I understand."
"Do you?" he murmured.
She notched up her chin. She did not like being questioned by Tywin. She wasn't a simpleton.
"I do. Old families care about their lands and titles far more than their gold. For some, this will be seen as worse than death. Especially when you give those castles you seize to those in our family."
Tywin's eyes widened before his lips curled into a smirk.
"Clever girl," he murmured approvingly.
Sansa felt a blush stain her cheeks, but a sense of accomplishment surged inside her.
For a modern woman, this could seem harsh. But it could be harsher. When one played the game of thrones, they either won, or they died. And their enemies would not hesitate to harm her, her children or those in her family if they had a chance. She had to remember that.
"And Elia? If you are ordering all the lords of the realm here, you'll wish that those in the Crownlands swear to her as their Lord Paramount and you as their Overlord. That means she needs to be a Lannister," Tygett demanded.
Tywin looked to his brother, who appeared on edge.
"A raven went to Dorne this morning, requesting Prince Martell's acceptance of your offer of marriage to Elia Martell. I am certain response will be returned quickly."
The way that he said it, Sansa knew that Tywin would give Doran Martell minimal choice. While Elia was powerful due to her regency of her son, she was known to be sickly. At twenty-seven, she was considered an old maid, far past her good breeding years. And soon, the entire realm would learn of the birth of Lyanna's son, further humiliating Elia and driving down her marriageability. They all knew it.
Beyond that, Doran would not wish to upset Tywin. Not over this. The Prince of Sunspear knew that Tywin would never give her up. Elia was one of the keys to this new world he was creating.
"Thank you."
Tywin didn't say anything, but something unspoken passed between the two brothers.
"And how long do these House have to present themselves to you?" Jaime asked.
"A month. When the coronation begins, if they are not in King's Landing, I will send proclamations throughout Westeros, declaring them rebels of the Crown and their castles, titles and lands stripped. Such proclamation will be enforced with the Lannister army."
"That shall make for an interesting coronation," Jaime quipped.
Tywin gave his son a look.
"That is not all. Following the coronation, there will be a conclave, a feast, and a tourney with a generous prize of gold dragons to the winner of each event."
Jaime's eyes brightened considerably at the announcement of a tourney, and he grinned at his uncle, who also looked pleased. Even Sansa was excited. She'd never seen a tourney before.
Before they could get too off track, her lion cleared his throat.
"There are two more matters to inform you of. First, Lord Bolton's wife, son and his bastard, along with the woman he raped, make their way to King's Landing. Sansa, you will welcome Lady Bethany Ryswell into your Court. I imagine the woman will be humiliated, being summoned here, but it cannot be helped. We must know if Roose disobeyed House Stark."
"I will make her feel welcome, husband," Sansa murmured. "And the bastard?"
She didn't shudder – not quite. Ramsay would only be a year or less right now, but she did wonder at keeping him alive. Of everyone, Sansa could likely make the argument that he should not live.
Tywin grimaced. He knew her feelings on the boy.
"To be dealt with when Lord Stark returns."
Jaime cocked his head.
"Speaking of Lord Stark, any word?"
"Lyanna Stark is dead, but her son is not. She named him Jon before her death on her birthing bed. Ned and Oberyn now make their way back to the capital, along with Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne."
The look of relief on Jaime's face was evident. He was eager to see his friend and mentor.
"Kevan makes for our home, the Rock, to gather Genna and his wife and arrive at court for our coronation. While in the Westerlands he will deal with Ser Stafford Lannister."
Both Jaime and Tygett muttered darkly about Stafford and soon left Tywin alone with his wife.
Sansa was looking at the map, knowing that plans were one thing, but seeing them come to fruition was another.
"It must be done," he said.
She looked up and detected a note of worry in his eyes. She reached for Tywin's hand and squeezed.
"I know."
Their gazes held.
"We have a chance to establish a dynasty Sansa, that could last a thousand years."
She nodded.
She didn't much care about what went on a thousand years from now, but she did care about creating a world that was safer for her children.
"No one will be able to argue against your mercy," she told Tywin.
She abandoned the trout marker she'd been fingering and clasped her other hand in Tywin's. She titled her head up and saw the moment his shoulders relaxed.
"Where are the cubs?" he asked.
It was only mid-morning. He had endless work before him.
But she knew he would take this time – for her. For them. They needed it.
"Waiting for us, my lord husband."
He let out a little growl.
"Minx," he said, nipping at her lip and then cupping her bottom, squeezing as he kissed her breathless.
"One hour that is all I can spare," he murmured.
Sansa's eyes danced.
"It is enough."
For now, it was.
Soon enough, they would learn who would show their faces in the capital and who would be in open Rebellion. This was not over yet, and by the time her husband was done, Sansa assumed the map she stood before would look very different indeed.
But for now, she had an hour of her husband's undivided attention, and she didn't mean to waste a single second of it.
