Chapter 31

Lannister Camp – Sansa

"It's useless just to stand here," Sansa muttered, shaking her head.

She couldn't say how long she and Jaime had been at the edge of the hill, watching the emptying of King's Landing. Watches and iPhones weren't precisely in abundance back here, but it had to have been an hour at least since her legs felt almost numb from disuse.

And she knew that it was utterly pointless to watch the disaster unfold and stand here wringing her hands when she could be helpful. She could do countless things to make this night more tenable, and she'd be damned if she just stood here worrying.

Perhaps she wasn't trained in the medical field, but as she'd proven time and again, that knowledge from the modern era could make the difference between life and death back here. Now it was time to put some of that modern-day knowledge to good use.

Her father had made her take first aid courses, and she knew the basic premise of triage. She'd watched Grey's Anatomy, after all, and read the news when earthquakes and floods happened. Not to mention dozens of disaster movies. She'd picked up enough knowledge that surely some of that could be applied here.

Because what else was this but a disaster?

A man-made disaster perhaps, but a disaster, nonetheless.

Which meant that people would be confused. Lost. Worried.

They would need direction and help, and that was what she could provide.

While Tywin worked to find the Mad King and take control of the city, Sansa could restore order to those that had fled their homes in the middle of the night and now gathered outside the walls of King's Landing.

She walked briskly, away from the edge of the hill where she'd stood, Jaime beside her, brow furrowed as she muttered under her breath.

"What are you doing? My father was clear with his direction."

Jaime kept up easily, a frown marring his handsome features. It was hard to believe that he was only a few years younger than her – she hoped that when things settled, they might become friends. It would be nice to have a friend at the Rock that was her age. Sansa paused and turned to Jaime.

"There is much we can prepare so that we can help those that are injured without having to enter the city ourselves."

"Like what?"

Jaime appeared curious about her statement, not hostile, which was a good sign. There was no doubt that Tywin's word was law, and that Sansa wouldn't get within three miles of King's Landing without Tywin's express permission. It grated, slightly, for she was a woman that was used to her independence, but she wasn't living in the 21st century anymore. Things were different back here and she understood that.

Sansa glanced around the camp, ensuring that they were alone. Or as alone as they could be. So many of Tywin's men had joined him in taking the city, but he'd left a fair contingent behind, and Sansa was always aware of her surroundings. This camp wasn't precisely Casterly Rock with its solid walls and men utterly loyal to Tywin.

Most of Tywin's bannermen, Sansa liked, even if she didn't know them well. They treated her respectfully, due in large part to who Tywin was and her own reputation. It was well known that Tywin loved his new Tully bride and that she'd brought lions back to House Lannister. Most people in the West were pleased to see their liege lord once again married and had embraced Sansa's role as Lady Lannister.

But with any large group of people, each with their own interests and agendas, there were some that Sansa was less sure about. There were some that Sansa didn't trust as much as others. There were some that didn't seem quite as pleased as others that she'd married the mighty Tywin Lannister.

Which was why she didn't dare say too much out in the open to Jaime. She trusted Tywin's son implicitly, along with Tygett. But no one else in their camp.

Not even her 'sister' Catelyn.

Sansa liked Cat and had grown close with the young woman, but not close enough to not worry about revealing her secret accidentally to her. Sansa had no idea what Catelyn Tully Stark might do should she learn when Sansa came from. Catelyn was … rigid when it came to propriety and while Sansa knew it was a by-product of how Catelyn had been raised, she wouldn't take that risk. The less Catelyn knew about Sansa's 'origins' the better.

Sansa spotted the tent she shared with Tywin. Taking Jaime by the arm, she hurried them inside, dismissing the servants readying the rooms for his return to camp. Sansa tried not to worry if her husband would return – only that he would. He was Tywin Lannister, after all.

When they were alone, each in a chair in the sitting room, Sansa leaned in close to Jaime and, in a calm voice, explained the concept of triage and disaster scene management to him, enjoying his astounded look. It never got old to wow those in the past with her 'modern' knowledge.

"In this type of situation, what will be imperative will be to identify those that do not require aid or attention and get them to help us get to the more seriously injured. We need to set up a tent where the injured can be attended to, another tent where there is food and water for those that are in shock, and another tent where children that were separated from their parents can be kept safe until they can be reunited."

Jaime was nodded eagerly now.

"We can have some men move the dead away from the tents, so we do not confuse them with those that are injured."

"Exactly! That's a great idea, Jaime," Sansa said, beaming at him, pleased that he'd caught on so quickly.

He gave her a brilliant smile and Sansa remembered how history remembered Jaime – as the Lannister that wasn't as smart as his siblings. She thought that was a categorically false assessment of the man. Perhaps he struggled with reading, but that was nothing more than dyslexia she was sure and not a reflection on his intelligence.

"Now, what you must convey to your men, is that the effort to save people must be based upon their injuries. Those too far gone will only stretch our resources. We need to save as many as possible, and the way to do that is getting to those with non-life-threatening injuries first."

He nodded at her, eagerly taking in her words.

"We will endeavour to save those with what you call non-life-threatening injuries first, Sansa."

Then Jaime frowned. "I have one question though. What is a non-life-threatening injury?"

Sansa let out a hysterical giggle, the sheer magnitude of the night, coupled with a lack of sleep, making her lose it slightly.

"My Lady?" Jaime asked, brow furrowed, and he stared at her.

Sansa waved a hand and took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself. She desperately wished for her husband at that moment. Not that she wasn't capable of this task before her, for she knew she was. But Tywin had been her touchstone during her time in the past, and she felt off-centred without him here. He understood her in a way no one else ever had.

"Non-life threatening injuries are things that one can survive. A broken arm. A burn. A cut. Nothing that would kill someone."

Jaime's frown deepened as he looked confused.

"If a wound is not set, or if it festers, it can be deadly," he responded gravely, and Sansa wondered what he'd already seen to have such knowledge. The past was such a brutal time and not kind to anyone that was hurt. "Likewise with a burn or a cut. There are any number of ways to die here, Lady Sansa and almost any injury if not attended to properly."

"Fuck," Sansa muttered, knowing Jaime was right.

In modern times, a broken arm was painful, but very rarely would it result in death. Same with a burn, a cut, a concussion. But any one of these injuries or a combination of them in this day and age could mean death for someone. Hell, how many people died because dirty hands touched their wounds, transferring bacteria into the infected area?

Jaime's eyes widened at her curse, and Sansa had the grace to blush. She knew that noble-born ladies did not curse.

"Sorry. When I'm from, swearing isn't exactly frowned upon. But I know that's not how a lady is supposed to behave."

Jaime grinned and winked at her, and for a moment, all Sansa could think was how good-looking Tywin's son was and how Jaime reminded her of her husband. When she was alone with Tywin, and he let his guard down and Tywin could be quite charming when no one else was around.

"I won't tell father," Jaime told her, making Sansa snort.

"Trust me; your father is well aware of what I am lacking, a modern woman back in time," she murmured and then shook her head again, thinking about the task at hand.

There would be time enough to work through the multitude of issues that she had when it came to how to act in this time. If she could keep up this façade and how she might manage to fool all the lords and ladies of Westeros when they descended upon the capital. Sansa knew she'd done well given how ill-prepared she'd been to come back in time, but still – this was not a time when 'mistakes' were tolerated.

"Alright, well, the most critical injuries will most likely be burns, broken bones, head injuries and possibly smoke inhalation. People who can walk will be considered 'non-life threatening' while those who cannot require more attention. Those that required the attention of a Maester should be assessed as soon as possible, and if the Maester does not believe they can be saved, then they treat the next person. We cannot waste time treating those that cannot be saved, and though it pains me to say that it's true. What is critical is that we have clean water and soap for people to wash their hands and clean bandages."

Sansa paused, thinking about what they might need to accomplish what she wanted – to make a real difference. She saw Jaime hanging off every word and knew that this man had an incredible talent for absorbing information when it was given to him verbally and implementing orders.

"We can organize some supplies here. We will set up tents outside the gates, where we can begin to triage people, and those that are uninjured can get food and water. One of the big issues we're facing is that we won't have enough medicine for all those injured, and I'm not willing to share our supplies. Surely the capital has greater stores of sweet sleep and other tonics and medicines than what we brought with us?"

Jaime nodded, looking duly impressed with her.

"They do, Sansa. At the Guildhall of the Alchemists. It will be filled with medicine. I'll send a runner to inform my father that we require that area secured immediately. And we shall begin to gather the supplies you've requested."

Jaime rose and turned to leave, but Sansa reached for him, worrying her lip. Jaime paused and turned back to her, concern on his face.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"I can't be the one to give the orders to the men in the camp."

He looked confused.

"Why not? You're Lady Lannister – my father's wife. The men will listen to you. This is your role."

"I know. But –" She knew this was her role as Lady Lannister, just like she knew that men would listen to a highborn woman married to their liege lord. Or most of them would.

Sansa paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

"But what?" Jaime pressed when she'd been quiet for too long.

Sighing she met his penetrating gaze.

"You've accepted what I've told you here about triage and non-life-threatening injuries, without questioning me because you know where and when my knowledge comes from. But think about some of those men in this camp. Won't it be suspicious if a high-born woman suddenly institutes a new method of dealing with the injured? You are Tywin's son. The men will listen to you, and no one will question your ideas."

Jaime cocked his head, assessing her words.

"My father would say that a lion does not concern himself with the opinion of the sheep."

Sansa grimaced. She'd heard that more than once. If Tywin were here, he'd say the same thing to her as Jaime was. That this was her role and that she needed to embrace being Lady Sansa Lannister. And she did want to be an asset to Tywin – a helpmate and a partner.

"You should take credit for your ideas and let those that have sworn fealty to our house see how worthy you are to be my father's wife."

"You don't think it would raise suspicions? If I were to stand out there and give orders that they might not have heard before? If I were to implement a new system in dealing with the injured?"

Jaime smiled softly at her.

"Sansa, from what I've seen, you are beloved already by those in the West. My father is mad about you. You are carrying the next generation of Lannisters in your womb, and you returned our house sigil in living form to our side. I believe that those in this camp would follow you into war, My Lady."

Jaime paused.

"As would I."

Deeply touched by Jaime's words, Sansa straightened her spine and nodded.

"Then I will give the orders, as Lady Lannister."

"Good," Jaime said and then gestured for her to go first, him at her back, his hand on the golden lion pommel of his sword. She knew that Jaime would protect her and that no harm would come to her while he guarded her.

As she strode through camps, Sansa thought about her place here, in the middle of the Lannister army – as Tywin's wife. Sansa did feel safe with Jaime and Tygett. She had attempted to meet most of Tywin's bannermen in their journey down the Gold Road. There were some, like Lord Prester and Lord Crakehall, that she liked. They approved of Tywin's marriage and had warmly welcomed her as the new wife of their Lord Paramount. They were a similar age to Tywin and appeared pleased that their Lord had found another wife and one that brought them an alliance with House Tully.

Others, though, had been less friendly. Stafford Lannister, Tywin's goodbrother, had never warmed to her. It was hard to blame Stafford for his coldness – his sister had been Lady Joanna, and no one had ever expected Tywin to take another wife. The love of Joanna and Tywin was legendary and some, like Stafford, probably thought Tywin was doing a disserve to his late wife not only by marrying her but by openly proclaiming his love for her.

Sansa had attempted to discuss Stafford's feelings towards her with her husband, but Tywin had been dismissive of the entire affair. She knew it was trivial – that it didn't matter if Stafford Lannister liked her or not. But it had annoyed Sansa that Tywin didn't see that Stafford didn't like her.

There were some whispers that Tywin was far too enamoured with his new, young wife that wasn't even from the Westerlands. It wasn't unexpected, to hear those suspicions and Sansa didn't take it personally. There had to be many who had hoped to make a match with Tywin in the decade since Joanna died, and yet he'd never even indicated he was open to the possibility. Being the wife of Tywin Lannister was a powerful position, and one that would soon become even more influential when Tywin was named King and his wife was the Queen.

Still, Sansa tried to take it in stride – those few who didn't seem to like her or hadn't warmed to her. Many regions made marriages with houses that were loyal to them and within their own region. That Tywin had married again and to a Tully was a big deal at this time.

She exited the tent with Jaime beside her and strode to a small clearing while Jaime called out orders for the lords that were left in their camp to gather, along with their squires and page boys. They would do the brunt of the work that she required. That was the one thing her position afforded her – a loyal staff to carry out her wishes.

Catelyn and Tygett soon joined her and Jaime and Sansa felt comfort in their presence by her side. The night had felt interminable, but soon dawn would break, and they would know what happened in King's Landing. Not knowing how Tywin had fared was adding to her general unease.

When a sizable crowd had gathered, most looking confused but eager to hear what Lady Lannister had to say, Sansa cleared her throat. The moment was almost indescribable. How could she have ever imagined something like this when she'd been nothing more than a student of history in Lannisport less than a year ago? The short answer was, she couldn't. The power that came from being Tywin's wife was heady and spun her head.

"My Lords, tonight, tragedy has unfolded inside King's Landing. Lord Tywin races to save those trapped behind the capital's walls from the Mad King and his wildfire plot. The King meant to murder those innocents that slept in their beds. People he was charged with protecting."

There were outraged calls for Aerys head.

Sansa's smile was fearsome. Perhaps it made her bloodthirsty, but Aerys could not die soon enough for her.

"Fear not, My Lords, Lord Tywin will right this injustice. He comes as a liberator – a saviour to those in King's Landing. But many tonight will be injured. Others will be separated from their families, and still, others have fled with nothing more than their nightclothes. They will be lost, confused, hungry and hurting."

Her voice carried as everyone there hung on her words and Sansa got why people enjoyed this – the high that came from having your every word listened to.

"What would you have us do?" Stafford Lannister snarked, a sneer marring his face.

Both Jaime and Tygett glared at him, but Sansa did not need them to fight her battles. She knew that Stafford did not like her and had made his opinion of her well known.

"I am pleased you asked, Lord Stafford. We will gather supplies here, in our camp, to bring to those gathering outside King's Landing. Food. Medicine. Tents. Bandages. We will aid Lord Tywin in saving the people of King's Landing and earn the love and gratitude of the realm in doing so."

Stafford snorted and shook his head.

"You are a naïve fool, Lady Sansa. We will be mobbed the moment we arrive there with our supplies. Better to keep them for those from our region who are injured tonight and let those in the capital fend for themselves."

Jaime snarled at the disrespect shown to her by his uncle, and Tygett's brow furrowed at Stafford's words. She knew that both men would defend her in light of Stafford's clear animosity.

But Sansa knew this was a battle she had to fight. If she didn't stand up to Stafford here and now, in front of those lords that were Tywin's bannermen, then how on earth could she hope to help Tywin rule?

Sansa needed to prove that she fit in ancient Westeros. She stepped towards Lord Stafford, who, unlike other Lannisters, wasn't quite as tall as Tywin, Jaime and Tygett. It meant that her height worked to her advantage, as the man was barely taller than she was. Sansa knew no harm would come to her, with Tygett and Jaime at her back.

The entire crowd hushed as all eyes were on the two of them. As she came closer to Stafford, she saw him swallow hard and rub his hand along the pommel of his sword. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, and he licked his lips.

"Lord Stafford, were you somehow under the impression that I sought your opinion on this matter?" Her voice carried, and there wasn't a person in the crowd that didn't hear her.

Stafford reddened and sputtered.

"You're wasteful," he countered defiantly, tilting his chin towards her.

"Perhaps it's the Lannister wealth that has you thinking you can be reckless with what is ours. But you're a Tully, and this is a fight by lions. Our supplies should remain with us."

There were shocked gasps at his words, and Sansa's eyes slid past Stafford to assess other lords gathered. There was as much to learn about those that might not agree with her as there was to those that supported her. The only one who appeared to agree with Stafford was Ser Amory Lorch. That was another man that Sansa meant to discuss with her husband when he returned. The man's reputation was almost as repulsive as Gregor Clegane's.

Sansa turned back to Stafford and scoffed.

"You are a fool, Lord Stafford. My husband will be beloved after word spreads throughout the kingdom about his rescue of the common people. As Lady Lannister, I will endeavour to support him, including offering aid to those that fled the plot of a Mad King to murder them all in their beds. Either help or stand aside, for tonight, everyone in Westeros will know that the Westerlands saved the capital."

It was Tygett that took up position beside her, towering over Stafford.

"Cousin, shut your mouth and do as Lady Sansa requests. She has more than proven herself worthy as the title Lady Lannister. You forget your place! She is our lord's wife."

The flash of hatred in Stafford's eyes shocked Sansa. She knew the man did not like her, but she hadn't expected outright hostility.

"Lord Tywin will hear of this!" the man bellowed, face blotchy and red.

"Here of what?" came a voice that Sansa knew well. A voice she had missed in the hours that he had been gone. A voice that she had worried she'd never hear again.

Sansa spun, and there was her husband, striding through the crowd, sword strapped to his side, his red sash attached to his breastplate. The sheer swagger of her guy had Sansa's heart thumping wildly. He looked incredible – truly like a conquering hero from her dreams.

Flanking Tywin were Lords Lydden and Brax, two of the younger lords from the Westerlands that were Jaime's age. Pleased that he hadn't ridden back to camp alone, the smile that split her face made her cheeks ache.

"Tywin!" Sansa exclaimed, forgetting all about Stafford Lannister for the time being, and decorum and what was proper. All she wanted was to be in Tywin's arms. Her feet were moving before she even knew what she was doing.

He was back, and he was alive, and he was hers!

She sprinted towards him, and though his mouth did not smile, for he was not known to do so in public, she saw the sheer relief in his eyes that she was safe.

Even with the soot and smoke and gore covering him, Sansa threw herself into his arms, pleased when he caught her. His lips were on hers as if he didn't care who saw how pleased he was to be back in her presence, and Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

When they stopped kissing, Sansa was breathing heavily and grinning like a fool. There was more than one pleased lord in the group as they gazed upon them. Most knew that Lady Sansa Tully was a boon to House Lannister. Most were pleased to see their lord in love again and engaged – ready to take his rightful place in ruling the kingdom. Those in the West loved Tywin, despite his fearsome reputation, for they knew he'd defend them above all others.

"What has my wife gotten up to in my absence?" he asked softly, everyone giving them space.

Sansa giggled and looked back to the assembled crowd. He knew her well. Sansa was not an idle woman, nor was she lazy. She always had to be doing something.

"It's called triage, husband, and it's used in disasters. It a system used to help organize supplies and get medical attention to those that need it most when something like this happens. I spoke to Jaime about it before we assembled the lords to give them their orders."

"Hmmm," was all Tywin said.

He let her go but kept her close as every man gathered looked to them.

"What happened in the city?" Sansa asked, knowing that everyone would be eager for news.

"King Aerys is captured and arrested, and the capital is in our hands. The wildfire is contained within the Red Keep, though not yet extinguished. I've left it in Kevan's hands."

There was a mighty cheer and chants of Lord Tywin, Defender of the Realm, rang in their camp. A shiver worked its way down Sansa's spine. It was so incredible to be witnessing a change in the history that she knew so well. And such a monumental change. These were events she'd only ever read about in her books and debated endlessly in classes. But now she was in the middle of all of it.

Lord Brax dropped to his knee, and everyone in the group followed suit to a person, all of them going down before them, as Sansa stood beside Tywin.

Sansa wasn't sure what to do – what the protocol was in this situation. She went to go to her knees, thinking that was what she was supposed to do, but Tywin stopped her with a shake of his head and a gentle touch. His green eyes, flecked with gold, were warm as they looked upon her.

"No love. You do not bow to me."

There wasn't a lord present that didn't hear the endearment that Tywin used when he spoke to her.

Sansa slowed her breathing, her eyes fixated on Tywin, her entire body still. She knew this was a moment she would not forget for the rest of her life. Then Lord Brax spoke and everyone in their camp listened to his words, knowing the significance of this moment.

"You are in the presence of Tywin of House Lannister, first of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, defender of King's Landing and Protector of the realm, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West and the Lord of Casterly Rock and his Queen, Lady Sansa of Houses Tully and Lannister, first of her name."

Sansa began to shake.

"Tywin?" she whispered; her question unasked. Was Lord Brax speaking truthfully? Was he really King?

They'd discussed this, of course, but it still felt unbelievable.

He held her gaze as if it were only the two of them, alone and not surrounded by hundreds of people loyal to him from the Westerlands. The edge of his mouth twitched, and she swore his chest puffed out.

"My love, I have taken the Throne as we discussed. You are now Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Sansa."

Black spots danced in front of her eyes as she swayed, held aloft by her husband's strong arms which banded around her.

"Jaime," Tywin called as he drew Sansa close, supporting her. She wasn't too proud to admit that she clung to Tywin as she tried to reconcile what she had just heard.

What had been merely a plan, a plot, an idea was now a certainty.

She was Queen. Tywin was King. Of the Seven Kingdoms!

This was no longer an academic debate! No longer a case of what if, or maybe or the possibility.

This was now a reality. Her reality. She was a Queen!

Vaguely she heard Jaime and Tywin speak as Tywin's son explained what Sansa wanted from those that had gathered and her plan for helping those in need.

"Take care of it," was all Tywin said to him, and Jaime reassured Tywin that he would. Tygett had joined their small party, and Sansa saw the man grin.

"So it is true? Does House Lannister now rule the seven? You are King?"

Tywin smirked. "It is all true, brother. I am King, and the lions now rule Westeros."

Tygett let out a happy howl as Sansa tried to wrap her mind around everything that had just happened. Tywin and Tygett embraced and that pleased Sansa, for she knew how fraught their relationship had been.

Tygett held onto Tywin's arms, grinning now.

"Lady Sansa spoke with Princess Elia, and she is aware of what Aerys did and that her husband is dead. Your wife impressed upon her that she needs to think about what would be best for her child and that this was a rebellion, not an opportunity to sit another dragon on the Throne."

Tywin looked at her with admiration, and Sansa merely nodded, confirming that she had indeed spoken with Elia. He arched one of those elegant eyebrows.

"Did she?" he all but purred, the pride in her evident.

"Yup. I did. That was me," Sansa managed to say, still utterly reeling.

Tywin gave her a funny look at her word choice, and she made a choking noise. She knew she sounded as far from Queenly as possible. But seven hells, how was she supposed to handle this? Five months ago, she was an orphan in modern Westeros, contemplating her final year of her master's degree. And now? She was Queen in ancient Westeros.

"Tygett, Jaime, mobilize the men and supplies. We will enact Lady Sansa's plan forthwith. But for now, I need a moment with my wife."

Relief flood through Sansa, hearing that confident voice take over. She could do this with Tywin by her side. With his orders given, Tywin somehow got them to their tent, where they were afforded a bit of privacy. Once inside, Tywin dismissed the servants so they were alone and immediately drew her into his arms again as if he knew she was spinning.

"Breathe my love," he commanded, gently but authoritatively.

Sansa wished he was out of his armour so she could press herself into his chest. His hands were familiar, though, and rubbing her arms was trying to comfort her. Her breathing was shallow as she tried to get her bearings, trying to organize her thoughts.

"They named you King?"

Tywin smirked.

"Yes."

"King."

"Yes."

"Of the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Yes."

"And that makes me Queen?"

His large hand came up to cup her cheek as their eyes locked. He held her chin in his hand gently. So gently. She knew what this man was capable of – the violence he could meet out without a second thought.

"It does, my love."

Her hysterical giggle sounded through the tent.

"Oh my god," she said, legs shaking as her head spun.

"Sansa, love, you are not alone in this position. I will be here, by your side, to help and guide you."

She knew that her reaction was over the top. They'd discussed this possibility endlessly, not only on their journey to the capital but when they'd been at Casterly Rock. She knew that this was what would happen should the rebellion emerge victoriously.

"Tywin, I have only been in ancient Westeros for four months. I can't --- there is so much I'm still learning, and I don't know –"

His lips were on hers, cutting her off and forcing her to just feel.

Sansa pressed herself against him, uncaring that the armour was uncomfortable and bit into her skin. He deepened the kiss, and Sansa lost herself in the comfort of it, the familiarity of Tywin and that this was her husband.

He might have been named King and might be the most powerful man in all of Westeros, but she realized something fundamental as he kissed her.

He was still hers.

He was still Tywin, and she knew him – understood him and loved him as no one else had. This was the man she loved – that she'd come through time for. This was the man that had raced to Riverrun to secure a marriage with her. Sansa knew that they were meant to find one another, and so she had to trust this was the path she was supposed to be on.

When he ended the kiss, Tywin pressed his forehead against hers, and she felt his hands stroking her skin. She took such comfort from that touch.

"Better?"

His voice was amused and chased away more of her initial panic.

Sansa gave him a look.

"Tywin, you just told me that you are now King. I've seen your gold stores. I've seen your army. I know how intelligent you are. There is no one as powerful as you in the entire realm at this moment. And I'm your wife!"

He snorted and narrowed his eyes at her.

"And? Your point? You've always known who I was, what my ambitions were and what I was capable of. We have discussed this at length, Sansa. This was always the outcome we were plotting. You've said so yourself, even before you came back in time."

Sansa huffed out a breath, frustrated with how she wasn't able to express herself adequately. Lack of sleep, combined with the overwhelming events of the evening, made her feel like her head was thick and her usual quick wit and insights not quite as sharp as she wanted.

She knew they had discussed Tywin becoming King. She knew this was the plan. Hell, she'd argued that this was what Tywin should have done in the other timeline, even when he wasn't married to her.

But it was one thing to discuss it and quite another to be faced with the reality of what this all meant.

"I know. I do. It's just that now it's real. It's really real."

She swore his eyes almost danced as he brushed back a lock of hair that had come loose.

"Really real?" He gave her a look at the choice of her words.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him, logic coming back full force. Combined with her sharp tongue and her inability to back down from her very powerful, very intimidating husband.

"Excuse me for not reacting well upon being told that I am now Queen of all of this."

She waved a hand to indicate the capital and all the men outside and, well, everything. The entire Seven Kingdoms from the Wall to Dorne!

Tywin snorted.

"Well, the coronation has not yet happened. Aerys still lives, although I cut off his cock while he lay trussed up on the ground, and he screamed."

Somehow Sansa didn't outwardly react to that tidbit of information, knowing it was apropos. They both knew what had been done to Lady Joanna, and both of them were well aware of what Tywin was capable of. Still, it said something about the time in which they lived that Tywin could throw that bit out there and she barely reacted.

"Where is the King now?" she asked

"Standing before you, love."

Sansa snickered at the jape and tugged on Tywin's hand.

"Funny."

Tywin sighed, and Sansa got a glimpse of how much had been put on this man's shoulders. She gave herself a lecture, knowing that he needed a partner and a helpmate – not a hysterical modern woman that couldn't handle the role into which she'd been thrust.

"Aerys is in custody along with Varys. Kevan is rounding up the rest of his conspirators, and they await my judgement and likely Ned Stark's sword. We have yet to extinguish the wildfire in the Red Keep. So while you are Queen and my wife, no one expects you to step into that role immediately."

At that, Sansa straightened, and her eyes narrowed, and she saw her husband's eyes almost dance as if he knew the effect his words would have on her. Even if he did it on purpose, it was effective.

"I can handle it. I can be the Queen the realm needs. I'm not some weak-willed fool that cannot do my duty, Tywin."

"I know, love."

His tone was placating and grating, and she was just about to let him have it when the smirk gave him away. His lips twitched, and once again, Sansa was reminded of how this man let his guard down for her. Only her. It was a privilege extended to no one else and one she cherished.

"You did that on purpose," she pouted before she was in his arms again.

"I did but for a good reason. Sansa, you will make a fine Queen of the seven. And I will be by your side every step of the way, I promise. But there is much to do between now and our coronation. Do not borrow worries for another day."

She nodded.

"Was it as awful as you thought it might be? Being in the capital?"

Tywin shook his head.

"No." He paused and then shook his head again. "No. With the wildfire contained, the death toll was far less than we'd feared."

"That's good," she said, meaning it.

"There is much to discuss, much to share with you and my family, but I wish to do so only once. Perhaps you can call for Jaime and Tygett."

She nodded.

"I will, but first, you must eat."

She saw that annoyed him. He was frustrated with her, but on this, she would not back down. He needed to recharge and refuel. He might be named King but there would be much to do to secure that title he now held. She knew that as well as he did.

"Sansa, there is no time. I've left Kevan and Stannis in charge, and while Aerys is captured, I do not trust Oberyn."

"Hmmm, well, be that as it may, you still need food."

He opened his mouth to protest again, and she gave him a look.

"Your brain needs food. Your body needs fuel. You will eat, and we will talk, and then when you're ready, we will call in your son and your brother."

Tywin snorted.

"It seems someone has already found her Queenly voice," he muttered under his breath, glaring at her. He reminded her of a toddler having a tantrum, but she dared not say that to him. Sansa knew he'd feel better once he did as she ordered. And so did he.

Instead, she merely gave him a look and pointed to a basin of water.

"Wash husband while I get the servants to bring you your meal."

With that, she left a smirking Tywin in their private chambers. She went to ready his meal, eager to hear how he'd taken the capital and hoping that by the time she was faced with Tywin's family, the nerves that were dancing in her stomach would have finally settled.

She had to reconcile that somehow, a very modern woman had become Queen of Westeros in 283 at the end of Robert's Rebellion. They were rewriting the history that she knew and ushering in a new era in Westeros - that of the Lion and his time travelling Queen. And Sansa meant to be a Queen that history remembered for years to come.