Chapter 37

King's Landing – Ned

Lord Eddard Stark wasn't quite sure what to make of King's Landing. Or the mansion where he currently found himself and his wife staying. They called it Eastern Den, and it was the Lannister stronghold on this side of Westeros.

It was the most impressive residence that Ned had ever been in, and that was saying something considering Ned thought Winterfell was one of the most impressive castles in the realm.

Still, it was apparent that his wife was beloved by his new goodsister and goodbrother. For his part, Ned was still trying to figure them both out – the Great Lion and his wife, Sansa.

They were a force, the two of them, unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life. It wasn't just the Lannister wealth, which each of them wore comfortably, nor the power they commanded. It was how intelligent they were. How much they loved one another. And the vision that they had for the Seven Kingdoms.

Within a day, Ned knew that King Tywin and Queen Sansa were not monarchs that planned to rest on what the Targaryens had built.

And through it all, Ned was trying to determine his place, his role in this new alliance that had been forged at Riverrun.

House Lannister and House Stark had never been close. Their regions were far apart, and the gods they worshiped different. His father had never held with the trio of Aerys Targaryen, Steffon Baratheon and Tywin Lannister when the three of them had been young lords in charge of their respective realms.

Lord Rickard Stark had preferred the North and had rarely left Winterfell to come south.

He'd left that to his sons, sending Eddard to the Eyrie to train under Lord Arryn and allowing Brandon and Ned to attend the Tourney at Harrenhal. When Rickard had come south, the results had been devastating.

Anger still pulsed through his body when Ned thought of how his father and his brother had died. It had driven Ned to seek his revenge, to call his banners and ride against the Mad King Aerys. To follow his closest friend into rebellion that had gripped Westeros for nearly two years.

That seemed so long ago now. He and Catelyn were soon to have their twenty-second name days, and everything had changed so much since he and Robert had devised their plan, vowing revenge for all the Starks that the Targaryens had wronged.

At the final battle, Ned had lost a friend and was still reeling from the death of Robert. But his and Robert's friendship had ended long before Rhaegar had struck Robert down at the Trident. Nothing had been the same between the two men after the dual wedding of the Tully sisters at Riverrun and Robert's threat to take First Night rights with each woman if he were King.

Robert had attempted a half-hearted apology when they'd left Riverrun, but Ned had never forgiven him, nor had he fully trusted him again.

Ned had always been aware of Robert's… appetites. They had lived together in the Eyrie, and it was impossible to miss the sheer number of women Robert took to his bed.

Indeed, his bastard daughter, Mya Stone, was only a few years old, living in the Eyrie with her mother. It had always bothered Ned that Robert had claimed that he loved Lyanna, yet he could warm the bed of so many women who were not his beloved.

It had been Ned's desperation to keep his new wife safe that had him sending Catelyn with Tywin and her sister to the Rock. It had turned out to be a fortuitous move. It seemed his wife had done wonders to build the bonds of friendship between her husband's house and that of House Lannister.

Ned had been in the capital for only a day and reconnected with Catelyn almost immediately. He'd been aching to see her since the moment he'd been parted from her. The fact that she was equally excited to see him had made Ned happy.

That she was pregnant with his child was another boon that Ned had not been expecting.

Nor had he expected Aerys to remain alive, waiting for his sword.

Or for Jaime Lannister of all people to have rescued Princess Elia and her daughter – giving her safe passage until she could give birth to her son and getting her away from the Mad King.

Perhaps most surprising of all had been the stories Ned heard about the capital and those living here when Tywin Lannister arrived with his army, outside the city gates.

It had been a liberation, not a sacking, and thus, King's Landing remained relatively intact and ready for a peaceful transference to a new King.

Ned hadn't thought much about where they might stay when they were in the capital – he'd simply wanted to get here after Rhaegar was defeated – to see his wife and exact his revenge.

Now, once again, Ned found himself in Tywin Lannister's debt.

The man was impressive.

Ned's father might not have good things to say about the Great Lion, but Ned was starting to suspect that not everything his father had said had been true.

At least when it came to Tywin Lannister.

The man was harsh. And demanding. And craved power and control. He was far richer than Ned would ever be and had seen more wars than Ned likely ever would. There was almost no one that didn't jump to do as he demanded, and the man already had an iron grip on this alliance, even though he'd been one of the last regions to declared for the Rebellion.

Ned had expected not to like the prompt and arrogance of the Lannisters, but the mansion was surprisingly warm. And Queen Sansa was delightful. The food was the best Ned ever had. And the company interesting, varied due to the sheer number of people living at the Den as the Lannister's affectionally called their residence in King's Landing.

In addition to himself and Catelyn, there were Tywin and Sansa, Lord Kevan, Ser Tygett, Ser Jaime, Elia Martell and her two young children and Brynden Tully, a man that Ned had gained much respect for in the Battle at the Trident. His new uncle had stayed close to Ned, as if he knew how important it was that he survived the battle. And survive Ned had.

He was up early, having left his wife snuggled in their bed. They had retreated to their chambers last night and renewed their familiarity with one another, intimately.

Remembering how Catelyn had raced towards him outside the Dragon Gate, Ned had waited only a moment until they were alone to pull Catelyn into his arms and press his lips against hers.

She let out a peep before she moaned and then threw herself into his arms and kissed him back. After that, there hadn't been much talking at all, as Ned had kept her breathless and happily sated in their bed.

Gods, he'd missed her. She seemed – different. More confident and less rigid, and happier. And she'd been so passionate in their bedplay, that Ned had high hopes for their future.

It had been after that, when restless, Ned Stark had come across his goodsister in the library of the Lannister mansion. He'd been motioned inside the cavernous room to share tea of all things with his goodsister.

Queen Sansa was quite unlike any woman Ned Stark had ever met. Indeed, she was far more outgoing and talkative than Catelyn. Ned liked his goodsister; quite a lot, but he was grateful that Tywin was married to the eldest Tully daughter.

Ned figured the Great Lion was the only man in the realm that might have a hope of taming that woman.

Now, the following morning, Ned found himself wandering the hallways of this unfamiliar place, wondering when he might broach the subject of Aerys the Mad with King Tywin. He knew that Aerys was alive. What Ned wanted to know was when he might take the King's head.

The Lannister mansion was built around a central courtyard and had a spectacular view of Blackwater Bay.

Even early in the morning, the warmth of the southern region could already be felt, and Ned found himself outside, wandering through the lush gardens and greenery.

There were ponds with vibrant fish, the likes of which Ned had never seen, and flowers that were the brightest colours that they almost hurt his eyes – yellows and reds and pinks and purples and even blues.

Ned was used to the more muted tones of the North.

When late summer blooms finally budded, they were faded pinks and purples and yellows. They blended with the deeper, dark green grass of the endless plains of the North and towering trees of their dense forests, to where soaring snowcapped mountains greeted the sun as it rose and sank each night.

The North's beauty was raw; untamed. Vast and wild and free. It was nothing like this lush world he now found himself in.

Lord Eddard Stark desperately missed the North. He'd spoken at length to his wife about what awaited them in Winterfell. He promised to build her a small sept so she could continue to worship her gods but was pleasantly surprised when she asked about his. It gave him hope that she would come to love his home as much as he did.

With her in his arms, his large hand resting on her swelled stomach, Ned spoke of his home.

He told Catelyn about the magic of the North – the tales his Nan and her Nan before had passed down. He told her about the Lands of Always Winter and giants and direwolves and how incredible Winterfell was, and how they might ride for days and not come across another person, the region was so great.

His wife shocked him by stating she thought they should seek out a direwolf for him when they arrived home.

"What has brought this about?"

Ned had heard about the lion cubs, obviously. He doubted there was anyone in the realm that had not heard about them. But not firsthand. His wife's tale captivated him – not only Lady Sansa's role in the entire affair, but how easily his wife had taken to the cubs. That Sansa and Tywin trusted his wife with their house sigil and now his wife wanted one for herself!

"My sister says the North has wolves – your house sigil brought to life. And she has spoken to me about Stark magic, husband. Our child is a Stark – they should have a wolf to protect them."

Ned's eyes widened in stunned delight. He could hardly believe that his southern wife seemed so enraptured by his home and his region.

"What does Sansa say about Starks and our magic?" he asked, a grin on his face.

He slid his hand up to his wife's lush form and thumbed a nipple while nuzzling her neck. She was moaning again, and he hardened but still listened with half an ear as he worked her into a frenzy.

"She says that Starks have the blood of First Men and that all true Starks can warg," she cried as Ned moved from her neck to her breast, tugging the tip into his mouth and sucking hard.

"And does that scare you, wife? That your husband may be more beast than man?" Ned did not know where this bold side came from, but when Cat's eyes met his, he saw how fierce his wife was.

"No husband, I expect nothing less. Now have me," she said.

He'd been inside her wet cunt within moments of those words leaving her mouth and had brought her to two devastating peaks before he'd emptied himself inside her womb.

That had been an hour ago, and she'd sleepily kissed him and curled back up in her bed, happily sated.

He'd left her with a grin on his face, falling deeper in love with his wife by the moment. She was a revelation and Ned was excited to see what other surprises Catelyn had in store for him.

He'd been in the garden for nearly half an hour, and he was starting to think that most of the house were late risers, for he'd barely seen anyone in his wanderings, when he came to smaller clearing with a fountain in the middle that was closer to the golden stone walls of the mansion.

A table with two chairs was in the clearing and sitting at one of the chairs was a woman.

She had dark skin and dark hair and was basking in the morning sun, with a cloak wrapped around her form, looking serene. Upon spotting him, she smiled and called out.

"Hello, Lord Stark. Would you join me?"

She gestured to the empty chair and not wanting to be rude, Ned took a seat. He always was awkward around high-born ladies, thankful his wife seemed to want to talk for the both of them.

"Princess Elia, how are you?" Ned asked.

The woman gave a slight smile.

"Not a princess anymore. Just Lady Elia, Lord Stark."

Ned gave a slight nod and noted the title change. He wondered if that meant that Elia Martell supported Tywin's claim to the Iron Throne. He had heard about her son, Rhaegar's son. Ned still had a hard time thinking about the prince without his fury following, even though he was dead.

Oddly enough, he and Elia shared a painful history – one where her husband had named Ned's sister, not his wife, as the Queen of Flowers at the Tourney at Harrenhal. After that, the entire realm knew what Rhaegar had done to Lyanna – he'd kidnapped and absconded with her.

Still, Elia Martell was not her husband. And Ned could only imagine how she was dealing with such a humiliation from Rhaegar.

"We brought your husband's body home," Ned told her gruffly.

Hey eyes, the darkest shade Ned had ever seen, met his and held. He wondered what she might say. There were other links between them – more tenuous but still there. One of Rhaegar's best guards, Arthur Dayne, was the elder brother of Ashara – a woman that Ned's brother had slept with at the Tourney of Harrenhal. Ashara was one of Elia's ladies in waiting and Ned wondered how close they were.

There were rumours, of course, that it had been him, but those were false. Ashara was a year older than Ned; Brandon two. The last Ned heard Ashara was back at Starfall, her daughter a stillborn and the lady herself, grief-stricken with the loss.

There were moments that Ned cursed his brother and sister – both so headstrong and cavalier with their reputations and that of others. Had they no sense of decorum? Of doing what was right? He seemed to be cursed with an infallible sense of duty and honour, neither of which either of his siblings shared.

"It is odd that we are so linked, and yet today is the first time we've met," Elia said quietly, giving him a sad smile.

"It is, although I've rarely ventured beyond the Vale and the North. This is the furthest south I've ever been."

The first genuine smile Ned had ever seen lit up her face.

"Well, perhaps one day you shall go to Dorne," she said. "There are some beautiful places there."

"Do you miss your home?" Ned asked suddenly, wanting to know.

Elia got a faraway look in her eye. She nodded slowly.

"I do, although my entire life I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay at the Water Garden Palace."

She gave a rueful shake of her head.

"As is the lot of most noble-born women. We are expected to marry well and be a boon to our House and leave everyone and everything we've ever known, to go to where our husband's castles are."

Ned said nothing to that. He had wondered, like he imagined most men would when their wives were pregnant what their first child, what it would be. Would he have a son or a daughter first? Funnily enough, Ned didn't much care. He knew he needed an heir, but a daughter with Cat's brilliant hair would be just as welcome.

There was a happy shout, and then to Ned's astonishment, Ser Tygett appeared in the garden, carrying a small child.

"Mama," she cried but did not attempt to leave the shelter of the big blond knight's arms.

Ned wondered what the story was there.

"Hello, little Rhaenys," Elia called.

"Hello mama," Rhaenys sing-songed back to Elia.

As the little girl giggled and squirmed, Ser Tygett set her on the grass, keeping a close eye on her. Finally, when Tygett appeared convinced that Rhaenys couldn't get into any harm, he turned his attention to Ned.

"Lord Stark," the big man said, his voice gruff.

"Ser Tygett, I must thank you for keeping my wife safe. She has nothing but good things to say about her time with House Lannister, including the rescue of the lion cubs."

The stern visage of one Tygett Lannister broke at the mention of the cubs, as a smile creased his tanned face. Ned didn't miss how Lady Elia looked up at the handsome man nor how Tygett rested his hand on the back of her chair. They weren't touching; it was nothing improper, but the message was clear. This woman was under Tygett Lannister's protection.

"Yes, that was quite a spectacle," Tyg said, shaking his head.

"It is true that Queen Sansa has sent for the cubs and their guardian? I've heard he's been named the Master of Lions and I cannot wait to meet the cubs," Elia asked, delighted.

Tyg nodded as he called out to Rhae, who had gotten close to one of the fountains. The little girl turned back and ran towards him.

"Sansa did. Lord Clegane should be here within the fortnight. The lad was eager to ride with us when we left the Rock, but neither Tywin nor Sansa wanted to risk the safety of the cubs."

"Incredible," Ned said, meaning it.

"Sansa says there are direwolves in the North, beyond the Wall. Is that true?" Tygett asked, once again picking up little Rhaenys when she ran back to him.

It was utterly fascinating to see such a brutal and violent man holding the girl so gently. Ned could never remember his father being so openly affectionate with any of his children. And Rhaenys wasn't even Tygett's.

Ned nodded, thinking about the stories he'd heard of the wolves of the North.

"Aye, tis true. There are stories of Starks bonding with their wolves, and those that adhere to the old ways, well, they believe in the magic of the Old Gods."

Ned instantly felt silly speaking as he had, but neither Elia nor Tygett appeared to find his words fanciful or scold him for them. Instead, they looked fascinated and intrigued. Ned had not expected this – had not expected to be welcomed by those from the south as warmly as he was.

For years his father had railed against those that lived in the capital and how lazy and inept they were, but perhaps his father hadn't had the accurate measure of some of these nobles. Oddly enough, Ned found himself liking more and more of them.

"I will never forget what it was like, to follow Sansa into the hills and find a dying lioness guarding those two cubs. Lord Stark, I wish you good fortune in your search for your house sigil. Perhaps one day, our lions can meet your wolves."

Ned was far more touched than he wished to let on and was grateful when Catelyn appeared to usher them into the dining hall to break their fast. He felt out of his depth with these people, although the Lannisters generally seemed to hold not only him but his wife in high regard.

As their meal was ending, King Tywin announced that he wished to meet with their alliance shortly. Anticipation hummed through Ned, knowing that he was close to achieving the vengeance he sought. Ned caught a look in his goodsister's eyes as if she were upset at her husband that she was not part of the meeting.

Instead, the two Tully sisters in the Lannister mansion would accompany Lady Elia to the Sept of Baelor, where her husband's body lay.

When Tywin rose, everyone followed suit, and Ned managed to grasp his wife's elbow and find a secluded nook in which they could speak privately. He was eager for this meeting – to be included in such an important alliance. Still, he wanted to ensure his wife was comfortable accompanying Lady Elia and Queen Sansa to the Sept.

Catelyn pressed her lips to his and wove her arms around his neck, clearly enjoying his protectiveness.

"I worry about you," he said, voice gruff.

He heard how thick his northern accent was and wondered if his wife might not like it.

Instead, she smiled at him.

"King Tywin will have a veritable fleet of guards surrounding us, I promise."

Ned merely grunted.

"I will send some of my men as well. It is long past time you met the lords from the North that came when I called my banners."

"Oh, I would like that," she said, slipping her hand into his.

Ned looked down at their joined hands and then back up at his wife. Somehow, he knew this was something her goodsister did – showed open affection with her husband.

Being married was nothing like what Ned had expected. His wife, who had seemed so shy and reserved at Riverrun, had blossomed in her time away from her family home.

"I met Lady Elia today and Rhaenys. And Ser Tygett."

Cat snickered and leaned in closer to him.

"I think that Ser Tygett has feelings for Lady Elia."

Ned had surmised the same thing, but before he could tell his wife that, she continued, clearly excited she had an ally in her husband to spread gossip.

"I've heard a rumour that Prince Oberyn wished that she came to stay with him, but she refused. And it wasn't because the Martell mansion wasn't safe for her – it was because she wished to be here. There are also rumours that the prince is unhappy with his place in King Tywin's alliance."

That was a bit of worthy news, and Ned was startled to realize that he was closer to Tywin than some of the lords from the south. Ned nuzzled Catelyn's neck.

"And how does the Princess feel about Ser Tygett?"

Catelyn moaned and clutched at him, and Ned smirked.

"What?" she asked, her eyes a bit dazed.

Ned laughed.

"Go and be with your friends. I am sure that Lady Elia will appreciate it."

Catelyn nodded.

"I will hurry back, husband. Enjoy your meeting."

Ned didn't think that the meeting would be enjoyable – but he hoped it would be enlightening.

While Ned longed to go home, take his wife to Winterfell, and be back in the North, things were definitely interesting here in King's Landing. And with Catelyn by his side, Ned thought he might just tolerate the capital after all.

The Eastern Den – Tywin

Tywin awoke with Sansa in his arms, her long legs twined around his, his hand resting on her swelled stomach and her deep breaths indicating that she was still asleep.

The early morning light filtered through gauzy curtains, and he could smell the sea and hear the waves crash along the beach. Eastern Den, or how it was more affectionately known, The Den, wasn't quite as impressive as the Rock, but Tywin found his mansion in King's Landing far more pleasant than the Tower of the Hand.

He liked that his mansion was full, that several key members of their alliance were beneath his roof and under his protection. It was a statement and one that most nobles would not ignore.

Already the gossips would be at work, spreading the word that Elia Martell and her two children were living here, under Lannister protection.

The news of Lord Eddard Stark's arrival, with the bodies of Rhaegar and Robert no less, would have tongues wagging.

And the Blackfish was a legend, one more lord that Tywin had won to his side.

There was no doubt that the lions were firmly in control of Westeros now. Oberyn Martell could posture all he wanted, but Tywin's grip on the Seven Kingdoms was tight.

After they broke their fast this morning, Tywin planned the first meeting of their alliance within this mansion, while his wife would accompany Elia and Catelyn to the Sept of Baelor to view Rhaegar's body.

Of course, Tywin knew the moment he told Sansa his plans; she'd protest. The woman thought she should be part of every important meeting he had. While Tywin tended to agree with her, there were times when it simply wouldn't be possible. Kevan, Jaime, and Tygett knew who she was, but others did not. And Tywin knew the if anyone were to discover her secret, her life would be forfeit.

He could only hope that Lord Clegane arrived swiftly, as to distract Sansa with the cubs. That ought to keep her busy. She'd also mentioned a nursery, and since there hadn't been a babe in this mansion for years, he gave her carte blanche to get started on that project.

"I'm not going to like what is on your mind, am I, husband?" she said, interrupting his morning musings.

Tywin glanced down to see those bright blue eyes that held a wealth of knowledge gazing up at him.

He didn't sigh, not precisely, and he kept his large hand on her stomach. He also needed to get a Maester here to examine her. While a part of him was excited at the prospect of twins, the threat of disaster when it came to childbirth always loomed large in his mind.

"I need you to accompany Lady Elia and Lady Catelyn to the Great Sept this morning after we've broken our fast."

Her eyes narrowed. She was far too intelligent for her own good.

"And what will you be doing?"

His spine stiffened, and his voice deepened, and he gave Sansa what he hoped was a stern look.

"I will be meeting with our alliance members, including Lords Baratheon, Arryn and Stark. And your uncle."

"And why can I not be there?"

Tywin barely refrained from shaking his head. This woman would be the death of him, he was sure. Joanna hadn't cared in the least for politics. Sansa lived for it. And she was good at it. He reached for her hand and drew it, palm up, to press a kiss in the center.

"I am not placating you, nor do I think you couldn't hold your own with our alliance. When you are Queen, you will be part of the small council. I fully intend that my wife, that you, my love, are every bit as well informed as I am when it comes to matters of the realm and ruling by my side."

She snorted and dared to roll her eyes at him. Why did he like her fire so much? He'd never have imagined that someone, a wife, challenging him would heat his blood so much.

"You're avoiding answering my question, Ty."

His heart jolted when she shortened his name. Uncaring about her nudity, Sansa pushed herself up in their bed, her amazing breasts bouncing. Tywin bit back the groan as he leaned back, her hair falling in riotous curls around her fair face and framing them both. She nipped at him hard, and Tywin's cock hardened.

Gods, he wanted her. She was fire and passion and everything he'd never known he needed in his life.

"I am scared, Sansa," he told her plainly, not bothering to hide the truth.

Her brows furrowed and she bit that lip, plumping it up. His cock pulsed. Fuck he wanted to be inside her heat.

"Scared? About what?"

"We have let it slip to not one but three of our family members about when you come from. All of those revelations were accidents, and while my family has embraced you, I worry. If anyone were to find out who you were," Tywin shook his head, unable to finish that sentence.

He cupped her face in his large hands, hoping she understood.

"There will be a time and a place for you to be at as many meetings as you wish, but we need to be careful. I have a reputation, and it must be maintained. You might not always approve of my methods, but the realm functioned exceptionally well under my governance. The proper place for you, today, is with the other high-born women, paying your respects to the late Prince Regent and shoring up your friendship with Elia Martell."

She said nothing for a moment, just locked her eyes with his. He wondered if she was plotting something when she gave a slight nod.

"That is fair. It is a reasonable request, and I will defer to you on this."

Tywin barked out a laugh. Only his Sansa would speak to him, the King, in such a manner. Rolling them, she gave a shrieking giggle as Tywin attacked her neck, his cock nudging her wet cunt. His wife was always ready for him, and he surged inside of her, loving how she gasped as her flesh parted to welcome him home.

"Make all the noise you want, my lioness. Let them hear how well the King fucks his Queen," he purred into her ear.

He loved how responsive Sansa was – how much she loved this intimacy between them and wanted this as much as he did. Tywin had always had to leash this part of himself with Joanna. But there was no holding back with Sansa – with anything. If anything, she was just as passionate and voracious as he was in bed.

Her keening moan and arched hips that met him thrust for thrust told Tywin that she wanted this as much as he did. He knew her well by now – what she needed and what would bring her off.

Tywin fucked her hard and fast, bringing her to one orgasm before he spent inside her warm, welcoming womb. Tywin held himself there, gazing into her eyes as his cock softened inside her velvet heat.

Then he leaned down and kissed her gently, reverently.

"My love," he rasped.

Her smile threatened to undo him.

"My lion."

Afterwards, she was sated and sweaty and snuggled into the crook of his arms as he stroked his fingers through her hair. Tywin liked how primal their coupling was, how his wife never seemed to wish to wipe his seed and his scent from her body. It made him possessive to think that way, but he cared naught. Sansa was his and he wanted everyone to know whom she belonged to.

"Tell me about zombies," he finally said, rolling the funny word around in his mind.

Zombies. Bah!

This woman and her modern language.

She snickered again and then reached for a tunic, one of his, and pulled it on. She did a thing with her hair, where she twisted it up and into a knot, wrapping her hair into itself and then sat, cross-legged on the bed, looking at him, appearing so effortlessly beautiful and young that his breath caught.

Fuck he liked seeing her wearing his clothing, the swell of her stomach evident of their love for one another.

"I have to start at the beginning. At the First Long Night."

He gave her a look.

"I know what the First Long Night is, Sansa."

She bobbed her head.

"Yes. Yes, of course, you do. I wasn't saying you don't, but for historians, for people from my time, we didn't think it was real."

Tywin frowned. "How in the seven hells could you not think it was real?"

She shrugged.

"I mean, we knew it was a war – a war that lasted a decade. It has long been theorized that it was invaders from across a land bridge that used to connect the North with Braavos that were the monsters people spoke of."

She gave him a look. "It made sense. People often describe what they don't know as monstrous."

Tywin didn't interrupt her, letting her speak.

"The first men came to Westeros that way, and it made sense that some barbarian hoards invaded once again. And then after the war, those that survived the wars, built a wall to keep them out."

She shook her head.

"The descriptions of the Wall defy logic, and it was thought that those from this time exaggerated the Wall to make it sound more fearsome than it really was."

Tywin snorted at her. For once, he seemed to know more than her on a subject, and he gloried at the chance to teach her something.

"Sansa, love, the Wall exists. It is not an exaggeration. It is a massive barrier of ice, stone and earth, stretching across the Northern border, one hundred leagues long and reaches over seven hundred feet at its highest point. Some even consider it one of the nine Wonders Made by Man. It is said that the top is wide enough for a dozen mounted knights to ride abreast, and it is thicker even still at the base. And according to legend, there are old spells woven into the Wall, to strengthen it and keep creatures of magical nature, such as The Others, or these dead men you refer to, from passing through it."

Sansa's eyes had widened in wondered delight as she hung on his every word. For a moment, Tywin could imagine her as a student – how keen she would be. Her brain was a marvel.

"It's hard to believe that it's real," she said reverently.

"Oh, it is very real. If you wish, when we've settled things here, we can visit the North so that you can see it."

Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard and reached for his hand, gripping it hard. She knew he wouldn't lie about something like this.

"You have to understand that the time in which I live, people don't believe in magic. Or dragons. Or giants. Those things don't exist. I mean, in movies – in books and people's imaginations, but not in real life."

"Breathe," Tywin instructed, rising to draw her into his arms. She was almost hyperventilating.

Sansa took his advice and sucked in a few deep breaths, all while getting herself back under control. These zombies had her vexed.

"But now, everything has changed. If dragons are real, then all of it is real. Don't you get it? It means that there is an army of dead people amassing behind the Wall. An army that a Night King leads. An army that doesn't care about the Iron Throne, or politics, or any of this. All they want is … to kill us. All of us. None of this, none of this game, matters to them."

He gave a thoughtful nod, thinking about what she was saying. So far, nothing she'd told him about her knowledge from the future had proven to be untrue. So, if a second long night happened in the history she knew, he'd do well to heed that.

"And when did this Second Long Night happen?"

"Eighteen years from now," she whispered.

Tywin leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Then we have time. We have Lord Stark, here, in our alliance. We have your knowledge. We have some of the best military minds in the Seven Kingdoms to help us prepare. We can stock the Wall, from one end to the other."

"But zombies, Ty."

He gave her a dry look. "You still haven't explained why you fear these creatures. Creatures that you say are not real."

Her eyes widened.

"They are mindless. They are re-animated dead, and you can only kill them by cutting off their heads! They won't stop! And some eat your brains!"

He couldn't help but rumble out a laugh, and Sansa smacked him on his chest.

"It's not funny! My dad let me watch a movie with zombies when I was a kid, and I had nightmares for weeks! And now you're telling me that they are real!"

Tywin was still smirking at his wife when he pulled her against his chest. She somehow snuggled in closer, despite her pregnant stomach in the way, grumbling to him about making fun of her as he pressed more kisses to her forehead.

"Sansa, love, we will find a way to defeat all of our enemies," he told her, full of confidence.

He wasn't that worried about this Night King, some two decades into the future. There was a giant wall of snow and ice between the dead that she claimed were coming for them and the rest of Westeros.

His wife gave a little snort and cuddled closer to him.

"You have such confidence, darling," she told him dryly.

Tywin thought that was a wonderful compliment and thanked her.

She was still rolling her eyes at him when they finally roused themselves from bed. Sansa dressed in Lannister colours, knowing she would be on display today. Tywin was sending some of his most trusted men to keep the women safe, and Ned was doing the same from his entourage.

Tywin didn't like that he couldn't accompany her, but he didn't think anyone would dare try anything at this moment. Besides, the unbearable Oberyn Martell was going to escort the ladies, and while Tywin did not like the man, he knew that no harm would come to any of them with the Red Viper nearby.

Still, he kept Sansa close to him as they broke their fast and knew that as necessary as their meeting was, he wouldn't rest easy until she was back inside the walls of the Lannister mansion and safe in his arms once again.

King's Landing – Elia

Elia found herself smiling as she strolled back into the Lannister mansion to break her fast.

She was fascinated with Lord Eddard Stark, the stern and taciturn man from the North. Elia had heard the stories about Ned's older brother, Brandon. The man was said to be a scoundrel and a rogue and had taken liberties with more than one maiden – including Ashara Dayne at the Tourney of Harrenhal.

Elia would never wish for anyone's death, besides perhaps that of her goodfather, but she thought that Lady Catelyn had ended up with a better husband in Ned than she ever would have had in Brandon.

There was such goodness in Ned that, even after he'd waged war to avenge the horrific deaths of his father and brother and the kidnapping of his sister, he still brought Rhaegar's body back with him to King's Landing – to be given a proper burial and lay in the Sept.

It was far more than most would have done, and Elia was forever in his debt that she would have her moment to say her goodbyes to her husband.

It was also interesting to meet the brother of the woman her husband had chosen over her.

Lyanna Stark – a name that haunted Elia.

Not that she had a love match with Rhaegar. Indeed, after watching Sansa and Tywin, and now Ned and Catelyn, Elia knew her marriage had been lacking.

There was an ache inside of her for something more – for what they had.

As if she'd conjured him from her very mind, she heard Tygett Lannister.

The man was far too handsome for his own good and carrying her daughter as he did, while Rhaenys clung to him; Elia wondered how she would ever extricate her heart and that of her children from this man.

She had never understood how good a man could be. Or what it could feel like to be his single-minded focus. For him to want to be around her and find her fascinating. For him to not care if her broken womb could give him no children.

Tygett Lannister had upended everything Elia Martell had ever known when it came to love. Each day, each moment she spent with Tygett, Elia found herself falling for the man more and more. He was nothing like Rhaegar or her brothers. There was no refinement in Tygett. He was all brute strength and rugged handsomeness, and oh, how she longed to be bold and give him some sign that she felt the same way about him as she suspected he felt about her.

But the game was afoot.

Elia had thought long and hard about her future.

She knew that Sansa was an intelligent woman – and one who was looking out for the best interests of House Lannister. But she wasn't incorrect when Sansa told Elia that Tywin Lannister's hold on the Seven Kingdoms was almost absolute.

Certain regions, like the Reach, and the Crownlands, would have to pay. But Tywin had the others in a firm alliance, and all had pledged to the Great Lion.

If Elia were to push her son's claim, her true-born son, she would face enemies all around. Dorne was not strong enough to back her. The Reach was now in ruins. And the Crownlands in Stag and Lion hands. What Elia had to do was push emotions aside and be logical. She had to think about what was best for her son – and her daughter. She had to fight for the best future for both of them. And herself.

And more and more, Elia was beginning to believe that the future included an alliance with the Lannisters and staying right here in King's Landing – with Sansa and Tygett and Tywin and Jaime.

How had these people she'd barely known become some of her closest friends and supporters? War made everything madness.

Her brother, Oberyn, had arrived at the Lannister mansion within a day of her being ensconced in the first-floor apartment with her children, demanding that she leave immediately and accompany him back to his camp.

Elia had refused, and Oberyn's dark eyes had flashed, anger and frustration there.

"Sister, you will listen to me! Your womb gave the realm its next heir!"

"Hush," she'd cried, clutching her son to her chest. Her temper was up, and she finally found her spine to put her brother in his place. It had not been him that had endured four hellish years in King's Landing, constantly under threat from the Mad King. Elia was sick and tired of men running her life.

"Rhaegar is dead. Aerys is soon to be dead. The next King is Tywin, the next heir in Queen Sansa's womb, not mine. You will learn your place, brother."

She saw his eyes widen as if he couldn't believe she'd speak to him in such a manner. Tygett didn't say much, although he hovered, refusing to leave her alone with her own family. Odd how she felt far safer with her lion protecting her. There had never been anyone who had her sole interests front and center the way that Tygett Lannister did.

He snarled and glared at Tygett, leaning closer.

"We cannot trust these lions, Elia! Think. You have the true heir in your arms."

She sighed.

"And how long can we keep him safe? Where is your alliance? What did you promise King Tywin when you marched to Storm's End?"

Her brother ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"It is not right," he muttered.

"No, it's not. None of this is fair. Not what Aerys did, nor what Rhaegar did. But, the time of the dragon is gone, brother. Do you wish for my son to have to deal with the legacy that his grandfather attempted to murder half a million people in King's Landing? Aerys destroyed his own house with his actions, and you know this as well as I do."

Oberyn's eyes widened.

"I did not know you were so well versed in the politics of the capital."

Elia snorted.

"I had to learn, brother. I was alone, with a mad man as a goodfather, and a husband that did not love me. I will not put my son in danger. I have pledged to King Tywin, and if you were wise, you'd do the same."

He had muttered and cursed, but in the end, he'd pressed a kiss to her cheek and ensured that she was safe and happy. Before leaving, Oberyn stopped at the door, glaring at Tygett.

"I hold you responsible for her safety, lion. It will be your head I come for if she or her children are harmed."

Elia held her breath, wondering what Tygett might do. He was known for his temper.

Instead, he merely nodded and held out his hand.

"If anything happens to her or her children, you will not have to look far to find me. I will let you take my head."

"Tygett, no!" Elia cried, giving away just how much he meant to her.

That was when her brother smiled and looked between them.

"Ahhhh, well, I see," he said as Tygett growled.

"It's not like that," just as Rhaenys pushed into the room.

"Uncle Lion, up!" she demanded and scrambled into Tygett's arms.

Oberyn threw his head back and laughed and clapped Tygett on the back.

"I know why my sister wants to stay here."

Then Oberyn sobered.

"But this discussion is not done. That babe in her arms is Rhaegar's heir."

Tygett nodded.

"No one is disputing that Lady Elia did not do what was required of her. She did. Aegon is Rhaegar's true-born heir. But we waged this rebellion to usurp the dragons – not seat another on the throne."

Oberyn growled.

"My brother has a plan. Perhaps before you react, you should hear what it is," Tygett said somewhat cryptically.

With that, her brother finally left. Elia had wanted to ask what Tygett meant – what his brother's plans were for her and her children. But Rhaenys had demanded her attention, and then Tygett had her laughing about some of Queen Sansa's antics, and she'd let herself be distracted.

When word came that Lord Eddard Stark had returned her husband's body to King's Landing, it had been Sansa and Catelyn that had found her and said they would accompany her to the Sept to pay her respects.

Elia had never had friends before – not like the two Tully sisters. Female companionship had been something she'd been desperately missing her entire life, and now, she'd found it.

Catelyn Stark would go North to Winterfell.

But Sansa would stay in King's Landing, and that meant that Elia wanted to be here as well. She did not want to go home to Sunspear. She wanted time, without a husband, to make choices on her own, with friends like Sansa and Tygett around her, and a freedom she'd never experienced before in her life.

So as the women readied themselves after breakfast to go to the Great Sept, Elia was grateful for Sansa's endless curiosity. Elia had never met a woman that had so many questions, and even now, with the sombre occasion upon them, she was distracting Elia by asking about the Sept.

Her brother showed up to accompany them with his natural flair, along with Lords Prester and Crakehall of the West, and Ser Jorah Mormont and Lord Umber from the North.

Elia watched as King Tywin hovered protectively over his wife, and then seemingly uncaring that he was in the presence of a dozen lords from around the realm, the King kissed Sansa and told her to be safe. Then Tywin levelled a fearsome look at Oberyn.

"I trust you to return the Queen, Lady Catelyn and Lady Elia safely back to my home within the hour," he snapped.

Oberyn merely nodded at him and then gave Queen Sansa a blinding smile, to which the new Queen seemed to be completely immune. Elia suppressed a snigger as Oberyn frowned.

They were a fearsome group as the ladies made their way to the carriage that was waiting for them. Like everything that Tywin Lannister owned, it was one of the most impressive carriages Elia had seen. It was gold and red and adorned with lions.

It was Sansa's first time into King's Landing properly, and she spent the entire trip to the Great Sept of Baelor with her face pressed against the window, looking out.

"It's just incredible," she said, shaking her head in wonder.

Elia smiled at her. There was no denying that everything felt different in the capital with Aerys now in custody. The people waved at Sansa, who was smiling at them, and Elia knew that this was a Queen that would be beloved by the people.

The Street of the Sisters connected the Great Sept of Baelor to the Dragonpit, which was near the row of mansions where the wealthy families of Westeros made their homes.

The Street of the Sisters was broad, cobblestoned and lined with trees. It was one of the prettiest places in all of King's Landing, with several stops along the route. They passed the Guildhall of the Alchemists, which was where most of the high valued prisoners were being held since the dungeons below the Red Keep were unstable. Damage from the wildfire plot was still being assessed, and there were far fewer secret passageways for prisoners to escape beneath the Guildhall.

They climbed Viserys' hill, upon which the Great Sept sat, and even Elia had to admire how the sun reflected brightly off the marble-walled Great Sept and its seven crystal towers. It was a beautiful building and a place she'd often come to, one of the only locations in King's Landing that didn't arouse suspicion from her goodfather when she'd needed to escape his mad rantings and violent outbursts in the Red Keep.

What had Rhaegar been thinking, leaving her alone with his father when he knew what Aerys was? It had only been a matter of time before Aerys would have turned his lustful gaze upon her.

Lost in those dark thoughts, Elia barely realized that Sansa had reached out to take her hand.

"How are you doing?" the Queen asked.

The compassion in her eyes was unmistakable, and some feeling that Elia could barely identify unfurled within her chest.

Acceptance.

Friendship.

Companionship.

Sansa offered all those things to Elia – things she'd never had before.

"I used to come to the Sept, often, by myself. It was a place I was safe. I am pleased that Rhaegar's final resting place will be here, so those that wish may say their final goodbyes, can," she told her friend.

Rhaegar's body would be interred beneath the Sept within the week.

"My sister wed her husband here. Many nobles from the great families have their wedding here, including your husband when he married Lady Joanna," Oberyn said, clearly looking for a reaction from Sansa.

Elia remembered how he operated. She loved Oberyn, but he was always looking for weaknesses in people. Elia wondered if this was Sansa's. There was no denying how much Sansa loved her husband. But how would Sansa react when Oberyn needled her about Tywin's first wedding?

"It was said that he spared no expense on their wedding; that it was a reflection of his love for her, how much gold he spent that day and that to the peasants, they thought the King himself was marrying again."

Elia glared at her brother, who shrugged a shoulder.

"It is the truth."

It was obvious what he was trying to do.

Instead of being upset, though, Sansa nodded thoughtfully.

"Their wedding must have been beautiful. I know that King Tywin loved his first wife dearly, and I am pleased to hear that their wedding was such a spectacle. Tywin rarely does anything by half measures. And I can only imagine how much that must have upset Aerys, for Tywin to have such a lavish first wedding."

Sansa smiled at the end, and it was clear that she did find joy in such a thought.

Elia gave Sansa a warm smile. Elia thought it was incredible how the woman did not seem to be jealous of the love Tywin had for his late wife.

Oberyn frowned. "This does not bother you? That your husband loved another woman?"

Sansa shook her head.

"Gods no. Why would it bother me? Love is not finite. When a mother welcomes her second child into this world, does she love her first child any less? No. I always knew that Tywin had a great capacity to love and to love well. The love story of him and Lady Joanna was one of the reasons I waited for him – one of the reasons I rejected all other suitors. I knew if I just held on, he could be persuaded to marry again."

Oberyn's mouth, for once, dropped open in shock. Catelyn Stark leaned forward, nodding.

"It is true. My sister always had a soft spot for the Great Lion. It drove my father mad, but he indulged her. And when Tywin arrived at Riverrun? Demanding her hand in marriage? It created quite the stir – equally as romantic, I believe, as a wedding in the Great Sept."

Sansa threw her arm around her sister and hugged her close.

"Besides, I was married on the same day as my sister. Perhaps my wedding to Tywin wasn't anything like his first, but I do believe it holds a special place in his heart and in mine."

There was nothing that Oberyn could say to either Tully sister. They were a force, and they were her friends. Elia reached for Sansa's hand and squeezed it.

"Personally, as a woman who has married in the Great Sept, I find your wedding far more romantic! Imagine a man striding into a Hall amid the rebellion and demanding your hand! Now that is a story your children will love to hear, again and again."

Sansa beamed at her, and soon enough, their carriage arrived outside the grand steps that would lead them into the Sept. Sansa gasped as she turned to look down upon King's Landing and Elia linked arms with her, their guards flanking them.

"It's incredible," Sansa said, shaking her head in wonder.

Elia loved this about Sansa. She had such a zest for life and was so excited about so many things that Elia had taken for granted. It had woken something inside of Elia; something that had been suppressed for far too long. It made her want to reach out and live a better life – to demand more for herself and for her children.

"The city is crowded, and there is great disparity from the wealthiest to the poorest citizens. But I do believe with you as our next Queen that the people will prosper," Elia told Sansa.

Sansa squeezed Elia's hand and locked eyes with her.

"Stay," Sansa blurted out and then blushed.

"I know it's entirely improper, and I have no idea what you are feeling. We are about to go and view your late husband's body. But stay in King's Landing. Help me reform this place. Become part of my court. Raise your children alongside mine. Forge a new era in Westeros, with me."

Something profound swept through Elia at that moment. Other than Tygett, no one had ever wanted her the way that Sansa apparently did. She was never seen as the most beautiful woman, nor the cleverest. She was sickly from the time she was a child, and she was valued only for her maidenhood and bloodline.

But neither Tygett nor Sansa saw her like that. They thought she had value beyond her name and her womb.

Elia nodded.

"Yes, I will stay. I've already informed my brother of my intentions. I will help you with your reforms, and I will form part of your court. I am excited to have a friend," Elia said shyly.

Sansa let out a happy laugh. "Me too, Elia, me too."

A cough from her brother alerted her to the fact that it was time to pay her final respects to Rhaegar. Elia would hold her head high as she did so and mourn the fact that her children would not know their father. But she would not lie and say she wasn't happy to see the end of the Targaryen rule.

They were far too volatile a family to rule Westeros. House Lannister was building something – something new, something exciting.

And for the first time in her life, Elia Martell was part of that inner circle – valued and cherished for herself. She had finally found her place. And it was right here, in King's Landing, by Sansa and Tygett's side, ruling Westeros and implementing reforms that Elia hoped would be felt for decades to come.

And maybe, just maybe, if the gods smiled upon her, a great love awaited her as well. One thing was for sure – Elia would not find that love if she were to run home to Dorne. This was where she was meant to be.

She was finally ready to play the Game of Thrones and couldn't wait to get back to the Lannister mansion and reassure Tygett Lannister that neither she nor her children would be leaving his side anytime soon.

The Eastern Den – Tywin

He had consolidated an incredible amount of power in his dining hall, Tywin thought as he took his place at the head of the table.

This was the first meeting of all their alliance members since the capture of King Aerys, and it was critical that everyone in this room support him when he took the Iron Throne. He meant to shore up those pledges of support here and now, leaving nothing to chance.

From House Lannister, his brothers, Kevan and Tygett, along with his son. Jaime hadn't been the happiest to be included – he seemed to think that he wasn't needed for these discussions, but Tywin knew that he'd allowed Jaime's education to become far too lax.

While the child in Sansa's womb, if a boy, would inherit the Iron Throne, Jaime would be the next Lord of Casterly Rock. And it was high time that he learned more than how to swing a sword.

From the North, Lord Stark and Lord Reed and Lord Karstark - two men loyal to Ned.

From the Stormlands, Stannis Baratheon and his man, Davos Seaworth.

From the Riverlands, Brynden, the Blackfish, Tully.

And from the Vale, Lords Arryn and Royce.

It was an impressive group. Five of the seven regions represented and willing to back his claim to the Iron Throne – willing to usher in a new era to Westeros. This was how he built his legacy.

"Let us get started," Tywin announced.

He'd run enough small council meetings when he was Hand to Aerys, and time was of the essence. He did not want Oberyn Martell joining them when he returned to the Den with the women. Having the Prince from Dorne here for these talks would only complicate matters.

"Lords Stark, Arryn and Tully, a report on the final battle at the Trident if you would," Tywin commanded.

He'd heard the story about the battle from Sansa, the details she knew, but it was different from the mouths of men that had fought and bled and defeated the royal army.

Tywin wasn't a man that was effusive with his praise, but he gave it now, pleased with the outcome when they'd finished their tale. It had been an impressive victory and he said so.

"And King's Landing? It was not a sack but instead a liberation?" Brynden Tully asked, eyes keen.

Tywin nodded.

"My son escaped King's Landing with Elia Martell and her small child. Aerys was growing madder by the day, and Jaime feared for his safety and hers."

There were looks of approval around the table, especially from Lord Stark. It was a marked contrast to the history that Sansa had shared with him.

"It was good of you to rescue her and ensure her safety," Ned said, locking eyes with Jaime.

Jaime coughed and then muttered, "It was no less than what any man here would do."

Tywin was pleased that there would be no title of Kingslayer or Oathbreaker for his son to bear. His life would have a far different path than the one Sansa told him about.

"What my son did not know at the time he escaped, was that the King was planning to destroy King's Landing and everyone inside the capital's walls. The King had his pyromancers working at all hours, placing caches of wildfire beneath the Red Keep, along all the major thoroughfares and beneath other notable buildings such as the Guildhall and the Great Sept."

There were angry murmurs and growls of discontent. Tywin fed into it, weaving the tale to his advantage.

"My wife, Queen Sansa, encouraged us to liberate these people that lived under Aerys' madness – to make the rebels out to be the heroes they are! All of you are seen as the saviours of not only King's Landing but Westeros itself."

Tywin let his words sink in, seeing the pride stamped in each man's face.

"When the Red Keep began to burn, some close to the Mad King realized the devastation that would happen if they did not act. They sealed the tunnels under the castle to prevent the wildfire from spreading. We worked in tandem, with Lords Baratheon and Martell, to clear the city of the people and captured the King."

"About bloody time," Brynden grumbled.

Tywin's grin was fearsome.

"Aerys had been captured, by Lord Varys of all people, held at sword point. I quickly dismounted and addressed the King and relieved him of his cock, and his title, promising him a trial in which he'd be held accountable for his actions."

"And when will this trial take place?" Ned asked, not wavering in his gaze.

"In two days time. The judges will be Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Jon Arryn and myself."

Ned leaned forward.

"And who swings the sword? When is he found guiltily?"

Not if. When. Tywin wanted to smile.

"You, Lord Stark. It was your father and brother who died gruesomely at the hands of Aerys' and everyone is aware of the fate suffered by your sister. While many houses have been wronged by House Targaryen, yours is by far, one of the most egregious."

The relief on Ned's face was evident.

"Thank you, Your Grace. It would go a long way in appeasing the North to avenge their deaths."

"What if he demands a trial by combat?" Kevan asked, clearly worried about that possibly. "We all know how tricky he can be, and Ser Barristan arrived back at the Capital, injured but not dead. There are more than a few that would stand up for him."

It was a fair question – and one Tywin had thought upon a great deal.

Perhaps two men in the realm could challenge Jaime when it came to swordplay – Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne. Arthur was ensconced outside the Tower of Joy and would not make it back in time to defend the former King.

And Barristan was being held as a prisoner until Tywin, as King, could decide what to do with the Kingsguard.

"There will be no trial by combat. There will be no option to take the Black. What Aerys did was beyond the pale. He attempted to murder half a million people – innocent people. If he is found guilty, he will lose his head."

There seemed to be agreement upon that, and Tywin was pleased. He would not let Aerys slip through on a technicality. Tywin was not about to let Aerys escape the punishment he was due.

"His pyromancers and his Master of Whispers will also be held accountable for their role in the burning of King's Landing. If they are found guilty, they too shall pay with their lives," Tywin announced.

To a man, those in his alliance nodded.

"And what of those that backed him? Men like Mace Tyrell and House Redwyne? There wasn't a house in the Reach that didn't support House Targaryen and most in the Crownlands," Jon Arryn asked.

"After the trial and our coronation, we will host a great conclave in King's Landing. There, the fate of those houses and those regions will be decided."

Tywin paused and met the eyes of every man around the table.

"Make no mistake – they will be punished. The Reach is vast and wealthy, with food and livestock that would bolster most houses around this table. This was a war – and they lost. I am not a man that forgives nor forgets such transgressions."

Every person in the room knew what Tywin spoke of – Houses Reyne and Tarbeck wiped from the very map.

"The spoils of war will be shared with our alliance."

There were hearty cheers of approval at that. It wasn't something he and Sansa saw eye to eye on – she thought that if he were too punitive, he would create enemies that would come for them in the years to come. But Tywin knew a firm hand was needed. After all, he was the man that had dealt harshly and swiftly with houses in his own region that dared to defy him.

And Tywin knew better than most that no matter what they did, there would be those in the Kingdom that would come for them. This was the game they played.

"What's next?" Jaime asked.

Tywin spoke of the coronation of him and Sansa – and got each man's word that sat at his table that they would bend the knee and publicly pledge their allegiance to him.

"Dorne is a problem," Tywin continued, watching Tygett stiffen.

Tywin wondered if his brother even knew how far gone he was for Elia Martell.

"Settle, brother; I did not say Lady Elia was a problem but her brother. The man thinks he can use her child to usurp my position. But Elia has made it clear where her allegiance lies."

Relief was evident on Tygett's face.

"She is a good woman and loyal. It would be unfair to punish her for things her husband did – things she had no control over," Tygett said with gruff affection.

"Indeed, it would." Tywin paused and steepled his hands. "However, there is one way to ensure her loyalty. Marriage."

Tygett swallowed hard but did not look away from him.

"Her husband is barely dead. He lies in the Great Sept even as we speak."

"I am well aware of the short time that Lady Elia had been a widow. And as much as I like the woman and find her company enjoyable, I must make decisions that are best of the realm. The Crownlands will be renamed and given to Aegon Targaryen, run by his mother, Elia Martell until he comes of age. And by her side, her new husband, Ser Tygett Lannister. Aegon's seat will be Dragonstone, and the region will pledge their alliance to her in her son's name."

There were startled gasps around the table but nods of approval. It was an incredibly generous concession to a woman that had been married to the man that had lost the rebellion.

But Tywin wasn't just being magnanimous. He knew what this would do for his reputation – how generous and benevolent it would seem he was being. Instead of punishing a widow and young mother, Tywin was elevating her.

It was just good politics and something he and Sansa had talked about endlessly.

"Tywin, are you sure?" Tygett appeared at a loss for words.

"I am. The woman will rule well, without interference from her brothers. She will join Sansa's court. And she will be another strong ally of House Lannister."

There was shocked approval all-around at Tywin's plans for Elia and her children – how effectively he'd dealt with them and the threat they might have posed. Had he punished either of them, he'd have made them martyrs. Now they were vital members of his inner circle.

"But the topic of Elia Martell brings up a disturbing issue," Tywin said, wanting to deal with this last topic before the women arrived back at the mansion. Tywin leaned forward.

"It has come to my attention that Lady Elia has struggled with each of her pregnancies. A Maester told her that should she ever fall pregnant again she might die."

Each man here squirmed in his seat. Pregnancy was always a risk, and yet, it wasn't something that could be avoided. Men needed heirs; children to carry on their legacy.

"While some women are more fragile when it comes to these matters, I have reason to believe that someone in King's Landing was deliberately making her ill."

That got a reaction – outraged men who let out cries of fury that a woman had been targeted in such a way.

Never let it be said that Tywin did not know how to work a room, especially one filled with his alliance members.

"Grand Maester, enter!" Tywin called.

An already old man when he'd begun to serve King Aerys as the Grand Maester, his third such King under which he'd held that position, Pycelle had always been Tywin's man. It was Pycelle that assisted Tywin the most in the governance of the realm when Tywin was Hand. Pycelle often praised Tywin's leadership, stating that Tywin was born to rule – Tywin had seen the ravens himself. Even when Tywin had resigned as Hand two years earlier, Pycelle was his staunch ally.

And that was how Tywin knew that he could trust what Pycelle would reveal. The man knew as well as Tywin that a peaceful realm was a prosperous realm. Pycelle had long feared that the divisions within the court and Aerys increasingly erratic behaviour would result in rebellion. And he had been correct.

With his signature long white beard, smallmouth, and bald head, Pycelle shuffled in and took a seat.

"Grand Maester, your efforts in the liberation of King's Landing have been noted."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Pycelle said, bobbing his head.

"Grand Maester, it has been suggested that Lady Elia's poor health might be something more than her constitution."

Pycelle's rheumy eyes blinked.

"Your Grace?"

"Poison," Tywin almost spat the word. "Something you are intimately familiar with."

Ned Stark snarled. "A vile weapon, used only by cravens, eunuchs, bastards and women!"

Tywin gave Ned an approving look. He agreed.

"Tell me, what poisons might weaken a person without killing them?"

Pycelle swallowed hard. "There are many, Your Grace. While some are fatal in any dosage, others, if given minute amounts, would weaken a person over time."

"Such as?" Kevan demanded.

Pycelle tented his hands.

"There are common poisons, such as Greycap, Sweetsleep and even Widow's Blood, that might make a person sick over time. Other rarer poisons, such as Manticore venom and the Strangler, are so fast-acting and deadly that even a few drops would result in instant death."

"And who has such knowledge?" Brynden demanded.

"Any Hedge Maester, My Lord."

"And who would be in a position to administer such a poison to Elia Martell over the past few years while she was in King's Landing?"

The kitchens were guarded; Aerys' paranoia had seen to that. The man employed a veritable army of tasters. So, it would take someone with incredible access and ease around the royal family to be able to slip into the kitchens unnoticed and taint Elia's food.

Pycelle's mouth curled into a sneer.

"There are two that come to mind, Your Grace. Lord Jon Connington and House Tyrell."

"Why?" Tywin demanded.

Comfortable now that he was not being accused of poisoning the former wife of the Prince Regent, Pycelle settled into his story.

"It is well known that Lord Connington was … enamored with Rhaegar. Many heard the red-haired knight refer to him as his sliver prince, and they spent endless hours together since they were children. When Rhaegar married Elia, it was said that Jon was furious, storming around Rhaegar's rooms and claiming that she was not worthy of him. Lord Connington spent their wedding night getting so drunk that his men had to carry him back to his rooms."

"And where is Connington now?" Jon Arryn demanded. Tywin knew the man's grudge was personal.

"Exiled. Even after he killed your nephew, Lord Arryn, and wounded your goodfather Lord Tully, Your Grace, he was held responsible for the loss of the King's forces at Stoney Sept."

Pycelle frowned and shook his head.

"The King had him exiled, stripping him of his titles and passing the rule of Griffin's Roost to Ser Ronald Connington, Jon's castellan. Before Rhaegar could restore his friend from exile, the battle at the Trident happened."

"So, no one knows where he is?" Tygett snarled, clearly furious.

Tywin held his tongue. From Sansa, he knew that Jon had joined the Golden Company and served with them for five years until Illyrio Mopatis and Lord Varys approached him. They informed him that Aegon, Rhaegar's son, had survived the Sack of King's Landing during the Rebellion. Vowing to protect this Aegon, they concocted a plan in which Jon was driven from the Company, and his death was attributed to death by drinking himself to death. He'd then pledged himself to raising Aegon, Rhaegar's son.

Sansa claimed that most did not believe this to be Aegon. That the true heir had died at the hands of Ser Gregor Clegane, and this was a false heir. Regardless, Tywin had changed that history. Aegon Targaryen was very much alive and under Tywin's protection.

Pycelle looked to Tywin, who shook his head. Now was not the time to chase after Jon Connington. If they discovered that Elia had been poisoned, and at Lord Connington's orders, then Tywin would allow Tygett to seek vengeance on the man.

"And what of House Tyrell?"

Pycelle snorted.

"You know as well as I do the poor history between House Tyrell and House Martell. Lord Mace holds Oberyn responsible for the crippling of his eldest son and heir, Willas, though Mace was the fool to encourage the boy to participate in tournaments when he was so young."

Tywin grunted and then added his thoughts on the ambitious House Tyrell.

"Mace has long had designs on the Iron Throne, and his mother is equally ambitious. Lady Olenna's youngest daughter, Janna, is yet to be wed, although I've heard a marriage was to be announced to Lord Fossoway until the Rebellion broke out. Lady Olenna might have thought that Rhaegar might look to Lady Janna for marriage if Elia were to die."

Others around the table nodded.

"And what of Rhaella? Were there plots against her? The rumours were that she had many failed pregnancies," Kevan asked.

Pycelle was shaking his head. "No, My Lord. Not that I am aware of. I think --- Queen Rhealla was treated … poorly by her husband. I do not think that helped with her condition."

While Tywin was thinking, ill at what Jaime had shared about hearing the King rape his wife, Tygett pushed back his chair, furious.

"This ends now, brother. Lady Elia will have a proper taster for all her meals – anything she or the children drink. I will not have anyone harm her – not when I have pledged to keep her safe."

"Well, it is clear I've missed something," came Elia's voice, startling them all.

All the men in the room turned to see Elia, Sansa, Catelyn and Oberyn standing there, all looking furious.

Tywin dismissed all but Ned, Kevan, Tygett and Jaime and kept Pycelle in his seat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Oberyn demanded, dark eyes flashing.

"Take a seat and listen," Tywin said, already annoyed with the man.

When Oberyn continued to pace, Tygett snapped.

"Sit down and listen. This isn't about you but your sister. Quit being dramatic."

Elia's lips twitched, and Sansa snickered while Oberyn's eyes widened, shocked that anyone would speak to him in such a way.

"I am a Prince!" he began to say while Tygett rolled his eyes.

"I don't care if you're the fucking King himself. This isn't about you! So, sit your arse down and listen to what we've discovered about your sister – a sister you left, alone and defenceless in this cesspool. A sister that was rescued by a lion and is now protected by lions!" Tygett roared, allowing his fury to show.

Tywin hid his smirk. His brother was finally in love. And like all Lannister men when they fell in love, he'd do whatever necessary to protect the woman he'd given his heart to.

Shame, brief, but still there, flashed across Oberyn's face, and he took his seat, finally.

Quickly, Tywin shared his suspicions with Elia and Oberyn, watching as the woman went white and reached for Tygett's hand.

"Tyg?" she said, voice wavering. It was apparent that she had feelings for the third son of Tytos.

Tygett pushed back his chair and knelt in front of her, and Tywin knew that if these two didn't love one another already, it would take so little to tip them over the edge.

Uncaring that she wasn't his, that they had an audience, that he was all but declaring his intentions for this woman, that what he was doing was improper, Tygett gently cupped Elia's face in his hands and stroked her cheek.

"I promise you, Elia, I will not let any harm come to you or your children."

She gave a brittle laugh.

"How? You are only one man. And they wanted me dead when I was married to the prince of the realm. How will you keep me safe?"

Tygett pressed his forehead to hers and took a deep breath. Those in the room were enthralled watching this drama unfold.

"My brother has a plan."

Elia turned to Tywin, swallowing hard.

"I believe I deserve to know what plans you are making for my future."

Tywin heartily approved of the woman his brother had chosen. She would be another worthy Lannister and a boon to their house.

"Your son will be given his ancestral lands – his seat will be Dragonstone and the Crownlands, his. You will rule in his stead until he reaches his majority. At my coronation, you will publicly renounce any claims on the Iron Throne, now and forever. You will bend the knee and pledge your allegiance to me and become a woman in my wife's court. And when you are ready, you will marry Ser Tygett Lannister."

Silence met this pronouncement.

Oberyn's lips pursed. He was unhappy. Tywin did not care in the least. This had been war and his side had won.

"She gave the realm an heir," he said.

Tywin nodded.

"She did. And had we lost the rebellion, her husband would be King, and her son King after that. And we would all be dead. But we did not lose. There will be no more generous offer. Think hard on what I'm giving you, Lady Elia."

"Come home, sister. Come back to Sunspear with your children."

Elia didn't even look at him, instead focusing solely on Tygett, who was still kneeling before her.

"I might never bear you a child," she said quietly, her shame evident.

Tygett snorted. "I'm the third son of a prosperous house that already has their heir secured. My brother is sure to fill the Rock with little lions with his new wife. I do not need a child of my blood. I love Rhaenys and Aegon as if they were my own."

"I have to mourn Rhaegar. I didn't love him at the end, but it would be improper for us to wed too soon after his death," she said.

Tywin caught Sansa's eyes, knowing that they had won Elia to her side.

"I will wait. My feelings for you will not wane. But I'll be damned if I tell you them here, in front of our families. Those are for your ears only, Elia."

She shook her head, but her eyes were now bright and cautiously happy.

"And Dragonstone? How will a lion survive there?"

"It is Aegon's. We shall manage. And we will be close enough to King's Landing to visit. Perhaps I can bring you to the Rock, again. And you can show me Sunspear. We shall not want for things to keep ourselves busy."

She nodded slowly and then turned to press her lips to his palm and Tywin watched as his brother shuddered out a relieved sigh. He was finally able to properly protect the woman he had fallen for.

Elia turned back to Tywin and nodded.

"I accept your terms, Your Grace. I shall marry Ser Tygett in six months' time, and I shall rule Dragonstone for my son, until he reaches his majority."

"Three months," Tywin countered.

Oberyn protested.

Tygett snarled, "Brother, be careful."

Elia, to everyone's shock, threw her head back and laughed.

"Gods, I've never been so in demand as I am in this family. Four months – and that is hardly proper, and you know it."

Tywin nodded. "You and the children will remain here, under our protection."

"That is hardly proper," Oberyn snarled as Tywin barely refrained from rolling his eyes at the man. At last count, Oberyn had several bastard daughters already and more than one paramour. What did the man know about proper?

"Brother, stop. These lions not only saved me, but they have rooted out the danger I was in when my family sent me, alone, to King's Landing. My children are safest here. I am safest here."

That appeared to deflate the man from Dorne. With that, pleased with his morning's work, Tywin rose. He reached for Sansa, wanting time with his wife and to see to some of the endless work before them.

Sansa snuggled into his arms and pressed her lips to his.

"Playing matchmaker I see," she murmured softly, but Tywin could tell she was pleased.

"I am. It is a good match," he said, somewhat gruffly.

With their betrothal now official, Tywin saw his brother help Elia to her feet, his hand remaining in hers. The privacy of the Den would give them time to cultivate their relationship away from many of the prying eyes of those in King's Landing.

Sansa snorted. "A good match. You are fooling no one, Tywin. I know that you wished for his happiness and are pleased he's found a worthy woman."

Tywin didn't protest for it would have been a lie. Then Sansa winked at him.

"Now we just have to find proper matches for Jaime and Stannis."

Loving her and her zest for life, Tywin rumbled out a laugh and then hurried her from the dining hall, needing a moment with just Sansa, knowing that his plans to rule the Seven Kingdoms were well in hand, and that the era of the lion had finally come to Westeros.

Author Notes:

So I wanted Elia to have far more agency than she did in canon and I hope I've achieved that here. It's a fine line for me, to make changes to Tywin's character and still keep him in character. In these times, marriages were the one sure fire way to guarantee 'support' between houses. While I would have loved for Elia to 100% choose Tygett on her own, I knew that Tywin could not let this opportunity pass him by.

I have spent countless, endless hours debating what to do with the Targ babies - all the Targ babies. I know some would keep to what Tywin did in canon - having them wiped out. But I just couldn't go there without losing Sansa and Tywin at the heart of the story. Because to me, that would be something Sansa wouldn't be able to forgive Tywin for.

So I went a different way. I went nuture vs nature now. What happens when these Targ babies are raised in relatively normal, loving homes with relatively good people? I don't have all the answers. I still don't know if Dany is mad because she was always going to turn out that way, due to the massive inbreeding or was that just her personality? What happens on Dragonstone?

Do Rhaenys and Aegon stand a better chance, like Jon, of being normal because they have a non Targ mother? Can Cat accept Jon as her nephew if she knows who he is?

As you can see, in this super long note, these are huge questions for this story, which I admit to enjoying diving into.

Up Next:

Jaime, Ned and Stannis bond, Sansa begins to explore KL, Sandor arrives with the cubs (YEAH!) and the trial of King Aerys.