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Game of Thrones - A Slip through Time

A thoroughly modern woman, Sansa Stark is obsessed with ancient history - and more specifically House Lannister and the Great Lion himself. What happens when she finds his sigil ring, in the ruins of Casterly Rock and the visions and bond that springs up between them? Can these visions help Tywin during the time of upheaval in Westeros, as rebellion and war rage across the seven kingdoms? And what happens when tragedy strikes Sansa again, and she suddenly finds herself back in time, alone and with Tywin Lannister as the only person she has any connection with? *I don’t own this story* ORIGINAL: PART 1 OF BOOK : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747122/chapters/57032773 PART 2 OF BOOK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31260338/chapters/77273966

Taleahr · TV
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47 Chs

Chapter 9

Riverrun – The Stairway: Sansa

Sansa side-eyed Tywin as they made their way back inside Riverrun, through the godswood. Kevan and Catelyn had gone ahead, giving them space and time alone, which Sansa knew, they both desperately needed.

The man appeared utterly shell-shocked by the little bombs she'd just dropped on him, and for a good reason, apparently. It was clear that he'd had no idea when she had come from. She wondered when he'd start demanding answers to well, everything. She'd only had a few dreams of him, but enough to know that things had changed from the history that she knew.

Perhaps not enough to make her knowledge moot, but enough that Sansa felt she needed to be cautious. She adored Tywin as a historical figure, but being beside him, here and now? She could feel the power and danger radiating from this man. Sansa knew she was going to have to be very careful not to misstep when it came to living in the past.

Her brain was cataloguing everything she knew about Tywin, again, as it had been since the moment he walked into the Hall last night. While she would not 'change' herself for anyone, including him, she would adapt – and she would demand he did so as well.

She knew they had some significant hurdles to overcome if they were going to make this work.

Tygett's words had struck a chord deep within Sansa. She knew Tywin had a great capacity to love, as he'd demonstrated that with Joanna. But he could also be cold, cruel and calculating. Was he even open to the possibility of loving someone again?

They came from two very different backgrounds, with a chasm worth of cultural differences between each other. And simply because they knew she wasn't from this time, did not mean that they could act outside of this framework. Like it or loath it, she was stuck here. And needed to act like a high-born woman of this time, which honestly grated on her nerves. Sansa loved history but the misogyny was rampant during this time, with women little more than chattel to be used by their fathers and husbands to enhance their own positions.

This all meant, if nothing else, that they needed to work together.

Sansa snorted as she thought of trying to explain the concept of teamwork to Tywin Lannister.

He'd be like the guy on a group project that dictated what each and every person was doing, and demanded nothing but the best, all while thinking he knew everything.

What he didn't realize was how much he needed her and that was where her worth came in.

Maybe he'd never open himself up to falling in love again, but they could be friends, Sansa thought, as they climbed the stairs to the tower where Hoster had said they'd meet.

She was huffing out a breath, pausing to catch her breath, when Tywin stopped and turned to look at her.

He was frowning.

"What seems to be the problem?"

The man wasn't even breathing hard! Curse him and his long legs and excellent cardio, she thought.

"Stairs," she heaved out. Gods, she really should have done more jogging this past semester. Her cardio was crap since her father had died.

"Stairs?"

She nodded and then sucked in another breath.

"You don't have stairs in your time?"

Sansa bit back the grin. He appeared adorably confused. Had Tywin ever looked adorably confused?

"Well, we do. But we also have machines that make it, so we don't need to use stairs."

"Machines?"

Sansa nodded. How to explain simple motors and engines to a man like Tywin. What was the most remarkable advancement they'd made back here? A trebuchet? That was nothing more than physics.

"We have so much to discuss Tywin when we get some privacy."

"Lord," he said, his voice commanding but not cold – as if he were attempting to help her not scold her. She approved of his tone and nodded.

"Sorry. Lord Tywin."

He nodded and then, as if he couldn't believe it himself, offer her his arm. "Here, let me help you. We are betrothed, so it is acceptable to touch like this."

Sansa beamed at him! Look at him, being all gentlemanly!

They climbed a few more stairs, with her arm tucked in his.

Sansa grinned at him. "My ass loves these workouts. Better than yoga and spin class, although I'd kill for a sports bra and my yoga shorts. So much more comfortable and it was practically my uniform."

Tywin stopped them again and stared down at her and Sansa wondered at the look on his face.

He appeared almost … hungry. For her! Yippee her lady parts cried! Sansa blushed but held his gaze. This man was to be her husband- that meant sex!

"That's what you call that small, black garment you were wearing?" he asked, dragging her thoughts away from bedroom gymnastics and to the present. Well, the past. Whatever!

Sansa's eyes widened. "You saw that?"

He nodded and licked his lips, and desire hummed through Sansa. She winked at him. He might not love her yet, but he sure as hell wanted her – and that was a start.

"Yup. Sports bra and yoga shorts. And those weren't even my racier ones."

She winked at Tywin and kept climbing the stairs, noticing that he had stopped. She turned back. It appeared she had broken the Great Lion.

"My Lord?" she said, hoping that would get his attention. He shook his head and hurried to catch up with her, his long legs quickly racing up the stairs until his face was level with hers. There were flecks of gold in his eyes, Sansa realized as she reached out to cup his cheek before she withdrew her hand, knowing that would cross too big a line. For now.

"Did you like seeing me thusly attired, My Lord?" she purred, making her voice low and throaty.

"Sansa," he growled, leaning in towards her. A hand came to rest on her hip, and the warmth and weight of it felt scandalous. No wonder there was so much repressed sexual tension these days, Sansa thought. She was practically panting from an almost kiss.

"We need to be married soon," he growled into her ear, and that desire thrummed through her, hot and heady.

Since she agreed, Sansa nodded and then linked arms with him, pleased with how this little walk up the stairs had gone. She was humming happily to herself when Tywin suddenly stopped them outside the heavy door to Hoster Tully's study.

"My Lady," Tywin said, and there was, Sansa swore, a twinkle in his eye, "I realize that you are used to, how shall I put this… speaking your mind. And when we are together, I will endeavour to adjust myself to the liberal views that you have. But here, Sansa," Tywin paused. "These are powerful men. Robert has already developed a reputation as a man that is free with his attentions to anyone who catches his eye. He has a bastard daughter, Mya Stone, who is a few months old, in the Vale."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "And yet he started a war over another," she muttered. "Robert is not a man designed to be a loyal husband."

The disgust was evident in her voice, and Tywin leaned down.

"I am a loyal man, Sansa. I am not like Robert Baratheon."

She turned to him and met his eyes. "I know. Most Lannister men are loyal to a fault, Tywin. It is one of the things I found the most intriguing about you."

"Gods, we need privacy, Sansa. I have so many questions for you."

"I know," she said. "Soon. But about Robert, Tywin. He's also left Stannis in a precarious position at Storm's End."

Tywin frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"The castle is not well provisioned for a long siege. In his haste to engage with the Tyrell army, he left Stannis there to defend his castle with barely a year's worth of provisions."

Tywin snarled and stalking down the hallway, thinking out loud. Sansa thought she heard the word idiot muttered more than once.

"The Redywne army holds the seas, and Aerys has the Crownlands. We'll get no help from the Iron Born," Tywin murmured out loud, and Sansa marvelled at this man's intelligence. He turned back to her.

"What do you suggest?"

"Smugglers and as soon as possible. You can press your point with Robert in our meeting."

"When does he declare his intentions to take the throne?"

"At the Trident when he faces Rhaegar. We need to convince Jon Arryn and Ned Stark that while Robert is excellent in battle, he's a lazy King."

"Tell me quickly, Sansa," Tywin demanded, voice low and urgent. They had mere moments before they'd be called inside.

"He is easily manipulated as a King, Tywin – drunk and often in his cups or visiting whores. He is considered a blundering oaf, with little to no regard for administration. He is a fool and a brutal man."

"And I let him take the Throne?"

"I do not know what you saw in your visions…"

"You said I should have taken the throne, instead of marrying my daughter to Robert."

Sansa bit her lip and sighed. "Gods, this is so hard. I have no idea what you know, what has already changed. But I do know this – while the realm was not at war under Robert, no good came of his rule."

Tywin gave a short, curt nod. "Do you honestly believe I would make a better King? Or was that banter, Sansa? We are moments away from potentially changing the course of history. You will be my wife, and if this plan succeeds, Queen."

Her eyes were wide as they looked into his. "There has to be a reason I came back, Tywin. I have no one in the future; my entire family was taken from me. I have studied you for years; admired you, wished I could have met you, defended you, hundreds of years in the future. Why else would I be here if not to change the course of history?"

His nostrils flared with her declaration as his hands squeezed her arms.

"I will not let you go. I am a possessive and jealous man, Sansa. When you are my wife, you will be mine in every way. The Game of Thrones is not one to be played lightly; you either win or you die. I do not mean to die, and I need your full cooperation."

"I will be by your side?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Then, I am ready."

"Good."

"Wait – there is one more thing you must know. Prince Doran does not want to fight for Aerys, any more than you do. He is threatened by the Mad King, who holds Elia and her children hostage in the Red Keep. I believe there may be a chance to bring him to our side."

Tywin's eyes widened as his mind quickly sorted through the possibilities, before a rare smile graced his face. Sansa was mesmerized, as he stroked a single finger down her cheek.

"You are a marvel, aren't you?"

There were still locked onto one another when the door opened, and they were beckoned inside, ready to claim their destiny and rewrite the course of history, together.

Riverrun – Hoster's Solar: Tywin

Tywin escorted Sansa into her 'father's' study, wondering if the gods were attempting to kill him for some of his transgressions. The mere thought of this woman's body, which Tywin had seen, which he knew was a work of art, was soon going to be all his. And she taunted him, the little minx. When was the last time that had ever happened? She was all lion, this one.

And it wasn't only her body, that has his cock hard and ready but her mind and what she knew!

Gods, that sharp tongue and sharper mind, had him aching. It was like his dream only she was here. And soon, she would be his.

It wasn't just her future knowledge that had Tywin's head spinning – it was her belief in him! How long had it been since someone, anyone had spoken about him the way she did? It was not something Tywin could recall. Had anyone, ever?

She was as unlike Joanna as anyone he'd ever met, and that was perhaps the single most significant reason Tywin would allow himself to feel something for her. Everyone else in this world had been raised similarly enough that he was often reminded of his wife when noble-born women had been paraded in front of him.

Tywin was arrogant enough to know that he was a handsome, powerful man. His wealth, titles and age made him one of the most eligible men in Westeros. But for ten years, he'd never even looked at another woman. The rumours that he'd never taken a whore to bed during that time were correct.

While Joanna had always been his perfect helpmate and wife, the potential of Sansa, of what they might accomplish, was so overwhelming, that his mind raced. He shuddered to think of the realm under Robert and his daughter as King and Queen. The two of them would be utterly destructive and clearly lead them all to ruin. Tywin had no reason to distrust Sansa – her fate was tied to his.

Tywin wanted to marry Sansa and then race back to the Rock and spend hours learning every part of her body and her brain. He couldn't imagine a single day of his life being boring with her by his side.

"Lord Tywin," he heard Hoster Tully say, and he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He saw the assembled lords before him, including his brothers. Also present, Lord Stark, Lord Arryn and Lord Baratheon, along with Hoster Tully, Brynden, Sansa and her sister Catelyn.

There was a large map in the center of the room, on the enormous wooden table that had trout for legs.

Tywin glowered at the Riverland lord.

"Yes, well, now that we are all here, it is time to discuss terms."

Before anything more could be said, Robert, the blustering fool, interrupted.

"Why are the women here?"

Tywin saw Sansa stiffen, and swore she was biting her tongue in order to keep the sharp words that were on her tongue from flying out and skewering Robert where he stood. Tywin was a man that knew that underestimating a person simply due to their gender was a grave mistake.

Tywin was saved from answering by Hoster, and surprisingly, Ned Stark, whom stepped up, in front of his soon-to-be wife. Perhaps the man from the North was finally seeing his friend for what he was – a boorish oaf with no skills or decorum.

"They are here because we all have a stake in this – we are in open rebellion against the King."

"He's not," Robert sneered, glaring at Tywin. "He's sat on his arse in his castle, counting his fucking gold, while we've bled and died for what we believe in."

Tywin snorted, and Robert growled.

"Believed in, please." Tywin rolled his eyes at the Stormlord. "Is that why you warm every whore's bed between here and the Vale, fathering bastards, because of your love and dedication."

Robert paled and shook, while Ned glowered at his friend. Tywin did not back down, scowling at Robert.

"Enough," Jon said, raising his voice, stepping between the Stag and the Lion. Jon turned to Tywin.

"Despite Robert's blunders, he is not wrong, Lord Tywin. For months now, you had sat on the sidelines when we asked for your support."

"And where is my son?" Tywin snapped out, leaning over the map. "A hostage of a Mad King that burns people alive. I thought if anyone understood my need for secrecy, it would be you, Lord Stark."

Ned startled, as if unsure that he was being drawn into the conversation. "Me?"

Tywin nodded. "We have all heard the stories of how Lord Rickard and Brandon Stark died. Do you think me a fool that I would subject my son to the same fate?"

Lord Arryn frowned. "Then why make a move now? Surely Aerys will hear of your marriage."

Tywin shrugged. "Perhaps, but I have a man in King's Landing that has the King's ear. He will tell Aerys what I want."

"And what's that?" Robert demanded, a meaty paw coming down on the map.

"That I saw a chance to secure my borders and prevent a powerful ruling block from emerging between the Vale, the North, the Riverlands and the Stormlands. With Sansa wed to me, Aerys will think Hoster weak. Without my marriage to Sansa, you have made the Riverlands one of the most powerful regions in the entire kingdom."

"The Riverlands still makes two advantageous marriages," Ned Stark said, eyeing Tywin with suspicion.

Tywin took a scroll from his pocket and threw it on the table. "There is my proof. A summons from the King himself to come to King's Landing with my army and protect the capital."

Hoster was the first to read it, snatching it up, before he passed it around, each man looking at Tywin with slightly less suspicion than before.

"My family has no love for the Mad King," Tywin said, his voice commanding even though it was low. "For years, I have bided my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. My brother will inform you that he was willing to declare for the rebel forces long ago, but we must be smart. Aerys commands the capital, and we must be cunning in order to take it back."

"And you think you are that man?" Robert blustered, clearly not expecting Tywin to be so well informed. "Why should we trust you?"

Tywin glanced at Jon and Hoster, as if to say, this is your man? This fool?

"I am marrying Hoster Tully's daughter, and when I take King's Landing from the Mad King, I will take the Iron Throne, with the support of the Vale, the North, the Stormlands and the Riverlands." Tywin paused. "And, Dorne. That is six of the seven kingdoms, Robert in case you hadn't kept up."

"Dorne? How on earth do you plan on getting Dorne?" Robert bellowed.

Even the others looked skeptical, and Tywin's eyes darted to Sansa's. She gave a quick, short nod.

Tywin leaned over the map, the thrill that came from outwitting his enemies humming through his blood. He moved the Stag to the Trident.

"I suspect that this is where you will strike, as Aerys will demand Rhaegar takes control of his army. The Dornish will come, Lord Robert, because the Mad King holds Elia hostage in the Red Keep, much like he does Jaime. However, if I were to negotiate that when Lannister forces take King's Landing, Elia and her children are saved, then the Dornish will not be the force that Aerys believes he has."

"How did you know that is where I will strike?" Robert snarled.

"How do I know that your brother is left almost starving to death and needs provision for an ill-stocked castle at Storm's End? Or that you were planning on declaring your intentions for the Iron Throne at the Trident?"

Everyone in the room, including his brother's gasped. Tywin's knowledge seemed almost otherworldly. Robert's face was blotchy and red but he could not argue. Every word was true.

"We cannot lose Storm's End, Robert. We need to get provisions to Stannis and quickly."

Robert appeared somewhat chagrined at being chastised about the state in which he'd left his family seat.

"Tell me, Robert, do you wish to rule? Truly?" Tywin asked, rocking back on his heels.

Before he could answer, Tywin paced the room, commanding all the attention.

"Ruling is not war, Robert. Ruling is taxes and levies, sorting our disputes and hearing endless petitioners. It is ensuring justice is carried out, and loyalty is maintained. It is more administrative work than battles and rarely about swinging a sword or a hammer. Is this what you want? Is this the power you desire? You are a man that has not adequately stocked his own castle, who leaves his brother to starve to death, who has fathered one bastard and has no wife. Are you really the man we should crown the next King?"

Tywin glanced at Ned Stark, Jon Arryn and Hoster Tully.

"Tell me, if you put Robert on the Throne, how long until we have a war of succession on our hands?"

"He is the first cousin to Aerys, once removed," Jon said as if that were reason enough.

Tywin snorted. "We are taking the throne by conquest. Like the Targaryen's did three hundred years ago when they came with their dragons and stole our independence from us. Why do we bow to their rules, Lord Arryn?"

The man from the Vale shook his head, having no answer. Tywin's green eyes slid to Ned Stark.

"It was your father and brother he killed; your sister kidnapped. Tell me, Lord Stark, why do we continue to live by the rules of House Targaryen? Starks are descendants of the First Men, are they not?"

"We are. We adhere to the Old Ways and Old Gods, Lord Tywin."

Tywin looked back at the map. "The realm will be a mess; it has been since I stepped down as hand two years ago."

"Arrogant prick," Robert muttered, but Hoster Tully was there to defend him.

"It's true, and you're well aware of it, Robert. The Targaryen's are mad, and the realm is worse having followed them. I haven't risked my people, my seat, my daughters to lose. And I didn't do so to crown a man that isn't fit to be King."

"You trust the lion more than me?" Robert roared, clearly unhappy.

"Tywin was King in all but name when he was hand - everyone knew it. He's the one that held the Seven Kingdoms together, not Aerys. Now he'll be wed, with a new line of heirs to take the Iron Throne. That is my only concession for my daughter and my support," Hoster said, locking eyes with Tywin. "Sansa's children inherit the Throne– not Jaime. Your son from Lady Joanna is meant for the Rock."

Tywin wanted to look at Sansa, to see what his very modern soon-to-be wife thought of to be spoken of in such terms, but he did not dare. He simply nodded. "Our children will be the ones in line for the Throne."

Hoster nodded, pleased, turning to hurry Sansa forward.

Tywin saw her frown, a line down the center of her forehead, as her sister's eyes flashed.

"And the North and the Vale? Whom do you support?" Tywin said, voice taut. Ned's eyes landed on Sansa, who was standing next to Tywin and then darted to Robert.

"We don't even know if she is alive, Robert. Or her condition. You're in no position to take a wife, and the realm needs stability. Our houses will be linked through our mutual support of one another."

Robert gave the nod, and then both men looked to Jon Arryn – he'd fostered them both and was as close as a father as Robert had.

"Lad, do you really want the Throne?" Jon asked quietly, laying a hand on Robert's massive shoulder. He was the only person in the realm that could get away with such a gesture.

"I want revenge, Jon."

"Aye, I know. And you'll have it."

"I want a place on your small council, lion," Robert continued. "That is the price of my support."

Tywin felt the brush of Sansa's fingers against his, then she grabbed his pinky and squeezed. "It will be done."

Robert nodded.

"Then it is done?" Jon Arryn said, glancing down at the map. A lion was now outside King's Landing, with the falcon, fish, wolf and Stag at the Trident.

"There is still work to do, but yes, it is done," Tywin said. "We will wed, in the sept, in three days. Then Lady Sansa and I will ride for the Rock. I need to call my banners and write Aerys that I bring my army to King's Landing to defend the city."

There were nods, and then the meeting ended. Before Tywin could speak with Sansa, she was swallowed up by her family, and he, his brothers. He overheard something about gowns and feasts and wondered when he might see her next.

He wished they could marry sooner, so they might have more time together. He was eager to learn as much as possible about everything she knew. But, he'd waited this long for a wife, he supposed a few more days wouldn't harm him.

As he left Hoster's solar, he felt Kevan clap him on the back, and Tygett was grinning and knew his family was with him. Tywin was almost in a daze, wondering what in hell had been set in motion, the moment someone or something had decided to bring Sansa Stark not only into his life but into his time.

Now there was no time for regrets; the dye had been cast, and they were all players in the Game of Thrones, their fates linked and a new, unknown future waiting to be written.