Chapter 38

King's Landing – Tywin

Tywin wasted no time putting things in motion for the trial of King Aerys the Mad as he was now known throughout the seven kingdoms. People loved a good fall from grace almost as much as they loved to root for the underdog.

Tywin was no underdog. He was the most powerful and richest man in the realm. He'd heard the whispers, for years, that he had ruled the Seven Kingdoms in all but name.

Well, now the time of the lion had come, and he didn't mean to waste a single moment when everything he'd wanted was within his grasp. There were things that needed their attention as the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms; things that could not wait and he had never been an idle man, nor one to rest on his laurels. Removing Aerys from the Throne was only the first step.

Besides the political implications, Tywin wanted Aerys dead. He had dreamed of this day for years. He would not lie and say it wasn't satisfactory to have Aerys under arrest, soon to lose his head for what he'd done. For the entire realm to now see Aerys as the monster Tywin knew him to be.

The time of the dragon was done. The time of the lion was upon them. The rebellion was over, and their side had won.

Tywin meant to press his advantage while their popularity was high. He needed to remind everyone in Westeros what the Mad King had done, and exactly which house had rescued the people of King's Landing. That was how one built a legacy.

The latest reports were that Sansa had dazzled the people with her visit to the Great Sept. Words like warm, friendly, beautiful, and alluring were bandied about to great fanfare.

Tywin planned on ruthlessly capitalizing upon her popularity.

Not that he had doubted the effect his wife would have on these jaded souls in King's Landing. It was a combination of her personality, her effervescence, and her intimate knowledge of so many of the people of this time that she was able to easily win them to her side. She also came from a time with decidedly different viewpoints on classes of people, which made her empathy for the common people of this time, genuine and heartfelt. She related to them, likely far better than she did a man of his stature.

All of which only served to elevate his position within the realm. Their marriage had created quite the stir within the capital.

Most had thought that he would never remarry. They thought his love for Joanna was too great to ever consider taking another as Lady Lannister.

The fact that he and Sansa were a love match made it even more enticing and romantic. Their marriage, their love story, and the story of how Sansa had found lion cubs had caused a surge in his popularity and increased his status around the realm.

Tywin knew there was more than one story circulating through the gossips of King's Landing that the once former Lady Sansa Tully had tamed not one but three Lannister lions. Many of these people were a superstitious lot. They took the return of living lions to House Lannister's side as a sign that the Gods had blessed his marriage to Sansa and his place as King of Westeros.

Which meant the time to solidify that popularity was now. They required a proper coronation with all the Lords of the Realm present to bend the knee.

There needed to be a conclave to discuss what was to be done with the Reach, the Crownlands, and those houses in the Riverlands that had supported the Targaryen side in the Rebellion.

Tywin wanted to announce reforms that he wished to begin, including abolishing the Kingsguard and the Night's Watch. He meant to leave his mark on the Seven Kingdoms in his time as King.

And then there was the pressing issue of the remaining Targaryen children. A pregnant Rhaella with Viserys on Dragonstone, and the matter of Lyanna Stark, pregnant in Dorne. That was a disaster that Tywin was unsure exactly how to navigate yet and he and Sansa had spent hours talking late into the night on how to deal with that issue with the least possible blowback upon him. She finally told him the entire sordid affair, including Ned's ill-fated plan on passing Jon off as his bastard son.

That would not happen in this timeline, although they would have to be careful what they revealed and how they dealt with the revelation that Rhaegar had attempted to annul his marriage to Elia, setting her aside in lieu of Lyanna. Tywin had a pang of sympathy for the woman he was fast coming to like, knowing that she was soon to become his goodsister.

He and Sansa had decided that Stannis and Tygett would go to Dragonstone, to offer Rhaella and her children their lives in return for bending the knee and relinquishing all claims to the Iron Throne. They would get to live and could settle in Dragonstone with Elia and her children.

Tywin still had some doubts, worrying that leaving Targs alive would give those loyal to that house a rallying point. But by not making them martyrs, Sansa argued they had neutralized the worst of the threat.

Besides, Tywin understood there would always be threats to him. It was natural that there would come a time when someone would seek to take what he now had. It was why his reputation was so important. Fear was a powerful tool when wielded properly. Sansa had shown how mercy could be equally effective.

While Tywin was willing to listen to his wife, to acknowledge her knowledge, he was still the Great Lion. And he would do whatever was necessary to protect his family, his house, and his legacy.

Kevan, Ned and Oberyn would go to the Tower of Joy in Dorne, to hopefully intervene and attempt to save Lyanna and her child. Sansa had advocated hard for sending Oberyn to Dorne with Ned and Kevan, claiming that it would be a good way to win the man to their side. And Oberyn could hopefully talk sense into the three remaining Kingsguard that were at the Tower of Joy, explaining what the new King was willing to give to Rhaegar's true heir.

Sansa also warned that the likelihood of them saving Lyanna Stark was slim. There simply wasn't enough advanced medical knowledge to intervene in this time when a woman was in distress giving birth. Both he and Sansa were worried about how Ned might react to his sister's death. It would be another bitter blow for a man that had sustained so many already.

But neither group could leave King's Landing until the Mad King was dead.

Which meant the trial needed to happen – immediately.

The wildfire had finally been extinguished from the Red Keep, but there were months and months of work before them to clear the ruins that Aerys had created when he'd attempted to burn the capital to the ground. Leaving the man and his pyromancers alive was unnecessary. They had to be held accountable – made to pay for what they had done.

A day after meeting with his alliance members, Tywin announced that the trial would be held the following morning in the Great Sept of Baelor.

Tywin was fully prepared to let Ned take his pound of flesh and use that massive sword, Ice, to take the former King's head when a guilty version was delivered by the judges.

Originally Tywin had planned on being one of the judges. He too had been deeply wronged by Aerys and wanted his moment to exact his revenge.

But an off-handed comment by his wife before they went to bed had his mind spinning. She thought it unnecessary for him to be a judge. He was now the King of the Seven Kingdoms and she thought it wiser to leverage the political capital of being a judge and strengthen their position within the ruling elite than for him to take that role for himself.

"There isn't a person in the capital that will find Aerys' not guilty," she'd said, and then shrugged.

"Let someone else have the glory of bringing down that judgment."

Sansa knew how wronged he'd been by Aerys; knew what that man had done to Joanna. Her observation wasn't her being obtuse to his pain. If anything, it was the opposite. She saw this matter clearly, without having any personal grudges to colour her judgement.

"Who?" he asked, his mind spinning with possibilities.

She was sitting at her table, brushing her hair, while he was in bed, waiting for her to join him. This was one of his favourite parts of his day. These moments of easy domesticity with her when they had dismissed their servants and were alone in their chambers. It was a gift, to have this with a woman, and not one that Tywin would ever overlook again. Small moments were to be treasured.

She cocked her head, thinking and gods, he found that sexy.

That was another one of his modern wife's words.

Sexy.

It suited her to a T. He liked using it when they were alone.

"Lord Stannis is loyal to you already, and while Robert died, he did kill Rhaegar. The most obvious choice would be Jaime, who was put through hell as a Kingsguard by Aerys, but I am not certain that is allowed and truthfully, it gains you nothing. There is Elia, who endured much at the hands of Aerys."

"A woman?" Tywin asked, arching an eyebrow, reacting on instinct. No matter how 'modern' his wife, Tywin was still a man of this time.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him.

"We do have the same mental capabilities as you men do, you know." Her tone was acerbic.

Tywin rumbled out a laugh, loving how angry she got. Gods she was alluring when her temper was up. Such a capable, strong, wonderfully complex creature. And all his.

Her blue eyes flashed dangerously, and he beckoned her closer, wishing to touch her. He always wanted to touch her and rarely did Tywin not indulge. She was so ripe and luscious, her curves driving him mad. As if she were unable to stay away, she put her brush down and then made a production of walking towards him, hips swaying and those dusky nipples he loved to suck brushing against her thin shift.

She took a seat at the side of the bed and leaned in – nipping him. He welcomed the bite of pain.

"Women are far more rational and logical than most men," she huffed out angrily.

He smoothed a hand down her back and then reached to cup a breast, palming it through her thin chemise, watching the nipple bud.

"Yes love," was all he said, deliberately making his tone placating.

He liked it when his lioness had her claws out and he wished to play. As his hands skimmed down her back, his head dipped and he drew the taut peak of her soft breast into his mouth, along with the cloth, making them both wet. Sansa moaned and her arousal perfumed the air. Tywin would have smirked at her reaction, but he was far too preoccupied with the prize that was Sansa's desire.

He worked his hands between her thighs, loving how she let them fall open so he could stroke her wet cunt, pushing a finger inside of her, knowing exactly what she craved.

She claimed she was as intelligent as he was, but could she think when he was driving her wild?

"I also plan on outlawing trials by combat and taking the black," he'd told her interested in her reaction.

She bit her lip and drew away from him, and Tywin knew she disagreed with his choice. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"Sansa tell me what is on your mind," he demanded, a bit perturbed.

She had agreed with him that a trial by combat was too easy a loophole for lords and knights to exploit when accused of a crime. She had told him she wished to reform this practice. Why was she now disagreeing with him?

Sansa sighed and rested her hands on his chest, their eyes locking.

"I thought we had discussed this and were of the same mindset, love," he said, attempting to gentle his tone. She was the only one in the realm that could have him do so. It was in Tywin's very nature to fix what he saw was broken and implement the policies he deemed appropriate. He'd been doing so for over two decades.

He reached for one of her hands and brought it to his lips and saw her eyes warm and her entire body softened. In this instance, his gentleness had paid off.

"I do agree that a trial by combat should be outlawed. Eventually."

He opened his mouth to protest but she shut it with a kiss. Tywin grunted against her mouth, stroking a hand up her back, his large hand cupping her slim neck.

"Please, let me explain," she said, in a tone that meant she wasn't attempting to undermine his authority or his choices, merely that her brilliant brain had thought about this topic more. It was a reminder of how much of an asset Sansa was to him, and one he should not ignore.

Tywin merely nodded and tugged her closer, tucking her body against his, loving the weight of her in his arms.

"Tell me," he commanded his tone belaying his need for her.

Tywin wanted to do something else in their bedroom. His fingers smelled of her and he wished to give her the lord's kiss before sinking inside this body he craved so much.

As he observed his wife, Tywin noted that Sansa went into what he'd deemed her 'lecture mode.' Her entire body went on alert, her eyes narrowed in concentration, and she often would bite at her lower lip as she talked. He found it heated his blood in the most incredible ways.

"Trials by combat are not a fair way to dispense justice. They cater to those that have connections to the best fighters in the realm and they do nothing to hold the guilty accountable for their crimes. But what are you going to replace it with? We are not yet at the point where we can reform the entire justice system – one that is unified from Winterfell to Sunspear. And that is what Westeros needs. Reform. But it must be done properly, or else chaos would reign."

Tywin agreed with her on all her points. He did want to reform the justice system. Listening to Sansa talk about rule of law had given him much to contemplate. With her knowledge, Tywin had a chance to leave his mark on the Seven Kingdoms for decades to come.

But right now, the most pressing issue was Aerys – and how to rid this world of his presence.

"And what if Aerys' demands a trial by combat? It is one of the few inviolable rights that are reserved for those of our class. Even I cannot deny him that request," Tywin pressed, worried that somehow the King would escape his trial alive. That would be an unmitigated disaster.

"Jaime can beat any man currently in King's Landing. It is your right as King to force Aerys to name his champion from a man who is in the capital."

Tywin grunted.

"That leaves him the option of Ser Selmy. A member of the Royal Family must be defended by Kingsguard."

Sansa sighed and rested her hands on Tywin's chest.

"Barristan was injured in the battle. I guess if you doubt Jaime, you could have Oberyn be your champion. It is my understanding that he is particularly skilled at combat. But that might give Aerys the chance to name Jaime as his champion."

She frowned.

Tywin thought about that and shook his head.

"No. It has to be Jaime. Aerys did unspeakable harm to him as well, Sansa. I must trust that my son can rise to this challenge. Barristan's skills are legendary, yes, but as you indicated, he was wounded in battle."

"And, well, a trial by combat does not have to be fought to the death. Merely until one opponent yields. Surely even Barristan can see what Aerys attempted to do to those living in King's Landing."

"We can only hope love and put our trust in my son."

She pressed her lips to his then and Tywin lost himself in her passion, both greedy for the other.

His wife was in the perfect position for Tywin to play and he shucked the lacy nightshift she was wearing down her creamy shoulders. Gods, he loved her smell and leaned in to nuzzle at her, licking a path down her neck, over her collarbone, loving when she shivered in his arms. Her full breasts pressed against his chest and the feel of those taunt nipples pressing into his flesh made him groan. As did the vision of her swelled stomach, evidence of his strong seed.

Gods, he was so hard he ached, his sac hurting with how much he wished to be inside her body.

"Tywin," she whined, shifting her core onto his rock-hard member, her cream already dripping from her molten core.

"Easy love, I've got you," he crooned, stroking his large hands down her supple back to cup her arse. He kneaded the flesh, his fingers finding her seam, and then dipped into her womanhood from behind, watching as she bucked back on him.

"Gods, yes," she groaned, writhing about, her fingers digging into his flesh, the pain, welcome and sweet.

"Seven hells, this pretty little cunt," he growled, her silky walls milking his fingers as she rode them, his mouth on her nipples, suckling the buds as she got wetter.

"That mouth, husband, should be illegal," she muttered, but dug her hands into his hair, wiggling on him, her scent perfuming the air.

"Ride me," he commanded, needing to be inside her.

Her eyes widened in delight, that he was giving her control. So often he'd taken the lead in their bedplay, but Sansa was a modern woman – openly expressive of what she enjoyed and what she wanted. Tywin had found himself aroused on more than one occasion as his wife had expressly told him what she wanted from him.

Quickly Sansa was ripping at their clothing and then stroking his member before she lined herself up on his cock, her pink lips stretching to accommodate the throbbing head of his member.

"It's always been you," she murmured, as he filled her and smashed her mouth to his as her body worked his thickness inside of her body. She bucked until his balls were snug against her arse and Tywin was fully seated in his wife.

She drew back, slightly, panting and paused, looking him in the eyes.

"You are my entire heart," he told her gruffly. Each time they came together, no matter where it was, the bonds between them only tightened.

"I love you, Tywin. So very much and more each day," she said, her voice so strong and true.

Tywin could lose himself in her eyes. They were so expressive and honest – a true window to her heart. There was no doubting her feelings for him. No one had ever loved him the way she did. No one understood him the way she did. No one had ever accepted him, all of him, the way that Sansa did.

This woman was imprinted on his very soul – something he needed as much as air and water and food.

He stroked his hands up her body, digging his fist into her hair, and holding her firmly in place, his cock buried so deep in her body that he had no idea where he ended, and she started.

"Sansa, my love, my lioness, my wife," he murmured.

She grinned.

"One day, my lion, I will tie you up and have my wicked way with you," she said, and he hardened further. The image she planted in his mind – of him at her mercy – sent his already soaring desire even higher.

Sansa leaned down, and tugged at his lip, biting him and then soothing it with her little pink tongue.

Tywin growled.

"Woman, do something before I take matters into my own hands."

She shimmied, throwing her hair back, the curls flowing down her back as her luscious breasts jutted forward, her nipples budded and hard and her entire body quivering.

Tywin was mesmerized by her. How free and sensual she was, how much she trusted him, how much pleasure she derived from this act.

Then she began to move, undulating her hips, her clit rubbing against his public bone so that grew wetter the more she rocked against the hard planes of his body, losing herself in her pleasure as she rode him.

"Fuck," Tywin grunted, unable to tear his eyes away from where his cock burrowed into her body, watching her lips stretch to accommodate his girth.

"Look at you, taking me like a good girl," he praised and felt her gush, her warm essence covering both of them, their thighs slick with their spendings and the air reeking of their coupling.

She moved her hand, gliding it gracefully down his chest, her eyes following, and felt between their joined bodies, her fingers somehow wrapping around his cock that he pumped into her weeping core.

"Gods, that's hot," Sansa murmured, and then, to his delight, she wet her fingers and drew them to his mouth, looking him in the eyes.

"Open," she demanded, and he did so immediately, sucking her fingers covered with her come into his mouth obscenely, his hands now gripping her plump cheeks and slamming her down on him. Unable to help himself, knowing how much moisture there was, Tywin slicked his fingers down the seam of her arse and found that little bud he'd not yet breached. They'd danced around the subject of him taking her here – he saw the interest in her eyes.

"Tell me you want this. That you want me here, that you want me to have all of you, Sansa," he rasped, needing her consent.

"Gods, yes," she cried, nodding her head so there could be no mistaking that she wanted him in her arse.

Taking a chance, he used her own cream to breach her with his thumb, taking her last virgin hole by sinking his thick digit inside of her puckered rosette.

Sansa keened, her nails biting into the flesh of his shoulders as she pumped her hips furiously. Tywin mimicked what his cock was doing to her cunt with the thumb in her arse. He managed draw her forward slightly, so her nub rubbed against him as her inside walls fluttered and tightened, signally her peak.

"Tywin gods, what are you doing to me?" she asked, breathless, eyes slightly wild.

He managed to smirk, cocky and sure of himself. He'd never taken a woman like this; never experienced the passion and the art that was coupling with Sansa.

"Fucking you, wife," he growled, knowing how much she liked his coarse talk in their bedplay.

Her grin was wicked as she pushed back, taking him deeper into both holes, taking him how she wished.

"And I am fucking you, husband mine."

Tywin managed to rumble out a laugh, utterly delighted by them both. He had never had anything like this with his previous wife. How could he? Joanna had been raised to be a proper lady of the time. Sansa was like some mythical creature – some goddess sent back in time, just for him.

He'd never seen anything quite like her. Lush and ripe, she creamed all over them both, using those amazing muscles he'd watched during her yoga sessions to maintain control. The air reeked of them both and he knew that when their peaks came, it would be unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

"Come, love," he demanded, knowing he had her close to the edge. There was such pleasure derived from watching her shatter in his arms, to know that she found as much enjoyment in their bedplay as he did.

Those eyes he loved so much locked with his and he kept speaking, knowing she loved it.

"You're so beautiful, so passionate, riding me like this, taking my thumb my way you are. There has never been anyone like you, Sansa, and there never will be again. You are my very heart, come to life."

Tywin had no idea where such words came from, but they were true. Each and every one of them.

"You are mine, Tywin," Sansa cried, as she bucked and took him deeper than he'd ever been as his cock erupted deep inside her womb. He let her ride out her own peak, shuddering in his arms before he followed her over.

Sansa stroked his neck as he bellowed out his pleasure, clutching her close and laying his lips along her neck, rocking her to his chest. Silent, basking in the afterglow, their hands now stroked the other, soft and gentle caresses.

Eventually, she wiggled a bit, and looked between their bodies, seeing the mess they were. Tywin smirked at the evidence of their passion.

Sweaty and sated, Tywin carried her to the bathing rooms, and sunk into the warm water with his wife in his arms, pressing soft kisses to her forehead. She reached for his hand, holding their ringed fingers up, examining them. She turned to him.

"I love my wedding ring," she told him, grinning gleefully. He was pleased she liked the ring he'd designed for her and admitted that he enjoyed seeing his symbol on her hand. Perhaps they were the only two in the realm that knew the significance of the rings, but the fact that they did, well, Tywin liked that.

For so long, so many only saw him as a monster, not a man. He could be monstrous, of that there was no doubt. And he assumed he'd have to be monstrous again. If being a monster kept Sansa and their child safe, then he would do so in an instant.

Sansa, however, was proud that he was her husband. Not because of his gold, or his position, or his lofty titles. Just because he was Tywin.

He chuckled and began to speak to her about other pieces of jewelry she might like, loving how her eyes went all misty and dreamy as he kissed her body and described all the different ways he wished to see his gold on her body.

When they finally left the bath, wrinkly and relaxed, Tywin assumed he'd fall asleep instantly. Instead, he slept very little wondering what Jaime might say when they told him the possibility of a trial by combat and that Tywin wished for Jaime to be the champion for the Crown. Was he putting too much pressure on his son? Would Barristan yield, much like Sansa thought he might, given the actions of the Mad King? Was Selmy as injured as they assumed?

These questions chased the sleep from Tywin's mind, as he held his wife in his arms, answers eluding him.

Which was how Tywin found himself in a meeting with his family, Lords Stark and Arryn and Elia and Oberyn Martell the morning of the trial.

Tywin knew he had one opportunity to get this right. The very future of the realm depended upon the alliance system they had built together. And that meant ensuring that members of said alliance were …. content with the present arrangements.

Elia and Oberyn were seated together, on a sofa, while Sansa and Jaime were on another love seat. Tygett and Kevan stood, as did lords Arryn and Stark.

Oberyn's dark eyes were unreadable, and there was a palpable tension emanating from the man. Not that Tywin blamed him in the least. From his perspective, Tywin understood Oberyn Martell's concerns. He hoped to alleviate them today and reassure the man of the promises Tywin had made when House Martell had marched to Storm's End and liberated House Baratheon from the Tyrell and Redwyne siege.

"King Aerys did a grave disserve to House Martell when he essentially kept Lady Elia at the Red Keep as hostage while the rebellion raged. If he had cared about her safety, he would have sent her home to Sunspear," Tywin said without preamble.

That got a raised eyebrow from Oberyn.

Tywin liked keeping the man from Dorne on his feet. Oberyn was clever and cunning, but it seemed like he had not anticipated this tactic from Tywin.

Good.

"You will find no argument from us, lion. Both our great houses were reluctant to declare for the rebels in this war, given how the King held members of our family hostage."

Tywin grunted at this statement, knowing it was true. Jaime had been a hostage of Aerys. It was why Tywin hadn't declared for the rebellion earlier.

It was smart how Oberyn linked House Martell's actions, or lack of action, to his own. They had acted in the same fashion because the alternative – that Aerys would kill Jaime or Elia – had been a very real possibility for both Houses and not a risk either House had been willing to take.

Tywin did not forget how it felt to know that Aerys could have killed Jaime at any moment. That constant fear that had hounded Tywin, since Aerys had named his heir to the Kingsguard, only abated when Jaime had made his escape from King's Landing.

He wondered if it were the same for Oberyn?

Tywin did not find he had much in common with the man from Dorne, but on this, they saw eye to eye.

Leaning forward, Tywin met the man's dark eyes, wondering if there could be trust between their houses. At one time, Tywin had hoped for a marriage between their two great houses. He was getting it now, albeit in a way he'd never imagined, between Elia and Tygett.

If only Oberyn would give up this insistence that the throne should be Aegon's and see that the time for House Lannister was upon them. House Martell could have a powerful place in this new world they were building.

"I will be outlawing taking the Black before the trial begins."

Oberyn smirked and gave him a knowing nod.

"It is smart to make such a bold move. It is a loophole, easily exploited, taking the Black and will give notice to all that a new King is in charge."

Tywin snorted. Was Oberyn placating him? No matter, even if he were. Tywin was done with manning the Wall with petty criminals and second sons that were of no use to their fathers. They needed a proper army in the North.

"Exactly," Tywin agreed. "But I will allow a trial by combat to take place – if this is what the King wishes."

Tywin watched the stunned reactions on the faces of everyone in the room. In their meeting a few days ago, Tywin had said he'd outlaw such trials – now he was allowing them. It was a stunning change and confusion reigned inside the library for a few moments.

As he had expected, his brothers began to pepper him with questions while Jaime swallowed hard and both Stark and Arryn looked worried.

"But Tywin, what changed when? What if the champion Aerys picks, defeats your champion?" Kevan asked, stating the worry that they all had.

"Brother, there is no other choice. Even I, as King, cannot refuse Aerys this right. Not when we have no other system to put in place. The realm is in chaos. We must rebuild and bring stability back to the realm. And part of that is a unified justice system – one that everyone in Westeros agrees upon."

Tywin watched Oberyn's face the closest, wondering what the man thought. The smirk told Tywin all he needed to know. For the first time since they'd joined forces, Tywin had Oberyn's full support. The man from Dorne leaned forward, his keen eyes interested.

"If I am to understand you, King Tywin, you are stating that you wish for a justice system that no matter where the crime is committed, the punishment is the same?" Oberyn stated, thinking about Tywin's proposal.

Tywin nodded.

"I do. But that will take work. And time. And we have neither. Aerys must die. Today."

"And if he does demand a trial by combat, who will you name as your champion?" Oberyn asked, curious.

At that moment, Tywin knew the man would do it if he were asked. And he'd likely win. Oberyn was an excellent swordsman – one of the best in the realm. But there were a few who were better.

Arthur Dayne, who was at the Tower of Joy.

Barristan Selmy, who was back in the capital but wounded and weakened.

And his son.

Jaime.

There was silence in the room, as everyone held their breath, waiting to see if Tywin would do what they all expected – if he would put his son in a position to get justice for them all. In a moment of true fatherly pride, Tywin turned to Jaime.

Jaime's green eyes, Joanna's eyes, were on him, and Jaime gave a slight nod, appearing slightly stunned, but ready for this moment.

"I name Jaime Lannister as the champion for the Crown."

Oberyn threw his head back and laughed.

"He's a fine choice, lion. Especially with Selmy hurt."

"Can I count on you, to turn down the King if he were to name you, his champion?" Tywin demanded, meeting Oberyn's eyes.

Oberyn looked shocked at first and then confused.

"Me? Why would he choose me?"

Tywin gave a shrug.

"You are highly skilled with a sword. And poison. If I did not name Jaime the champion for the Crown, you would be my next choice."

Oberyn's mouth dropped open. He straightened and lost any look of deceptive laziness that he cultivated so well revealing the true man beneath the façade – the smart, cunning, loyal man. The deadly man that Tywin knew he was.

"You are not lying, are you?"

Tywin shook his head.

"No."

"I want a position on your small council," Oberyn said in response shocking Tywin although he did not let it show, schooling his reaction.

"Why?" Tywin was curious. He never thought that Oberyn had much interest in the workings of the kingdom. Perhaps he'd been wrong.

"I wish to stay in King's Landing, to be near my sister and my niece and nephew. I wish to be part of this alliance. Dorne marched on your orders, Your Grace. Now I wish to be part of this new realm you are building. House Martell deserves a place on your council. Those are my terms."

Tywin mulled over Oberyn's words. Oberyn Martell was many things, but it was apparent his love for his sister was genuine. And with Doran firmly in control of Sunspear, it made sense to have Oberyn in King's Landing. Beyond that, Tywin could see how smart this demand was. It was what he would have done, had their positions been reversed.

"That can be arranged," Tywin said, giving a slow nod. "The Master of Laws will be busy, instituting reforms throughout the kingdom."

It was only the slight narrowing of Oberyn's eyes in which Tywin knew he'd shocked the man.

"Then you have yourself a deal. If Aerys were to ask for me to be his champion, I will say no. But you are forgetting one thing. Any member of the Royal Family involved in a trial by combat must be defended by a Kingsguard."

To this, Tywin gave a fierce smile of his own.

"Prince Oberyn, I did not forget. I merely wished to see where your loyalties were. I am pleased that House Martell will honour our alliance. You will serve as a judge for King Aerys, and you will have a place on my small council."

For a moment, Tywin wondered if Oberyn was offended with his deception, but he threw his head back and laughed.

"I like you, lion."

Taking that as a good sign, Tywin turned to Elia.

"My Lady, I am aware of what you endured living here, under the thumb of the Mad King. While I wish decorum would allow me to make you a judge, as I feel that would be fair compensation for your suffering, I cannot. I hope that by allowing your brother to take your place, this will be suitable recompense for some of your pain,"

Elia gave a short nod.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said, with all the regal bearing of the princess she was.

"Your husband will be interred beneath the Great Sept, so one day, his children may visit his grave. But I will not have Aerys resting there."

Elia swallowed hard and nodded.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"My dear, we are closer than that. In the presence of family, you may call me Tywin."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tywin saw Tygett react, a smile on his face. Even Oberyn seemed pleased by this development and cocked his head.

"Your family has been exceptionally kind to my sister."

Tywin huffed out an impatient breath.

"I know what is said about me, but I am not a monster. Your sister has conducted herself admirably and is a testament to your house, Prince Oberyn."

Tywin rose, and reached for Sansa, about to dismiss the others so he could speak with his son in private when Oberyn spoke again.

"Your Grace, what is that on your finger?"

Sansa beamed and looked down at the third finger on her left hand where the gold and ruby ring that Tywin had slid on her finger a few nights ago gleamed.

"Oh! It's my wedding ring, from my husband."

Every single person in the room frowned, not quite understanding what Sansa was saying.

Tywin smirked and reached for his wife's hand, drawing it to his lips and kissing it. In doing so, Tywin flashed his own ring, a golden lion on his left hand, worn on the same finger as Sansa's ring.

"What is the meaning of it?" Elia asked, intrigued.

As were others. Kevan, Tygett, Jaime, Ned and Oberyn all looked at them, awaiting an explanation.

"It is a symbol, a mark of our marriage to one another so that any who look upon us know that we belong to one another."

Both Tygett and Ned looked utterly fascinated by such a concept, and Tywin did not miss the heated look of possession his brother had for Elia. Nor did Tywin miss the flaring of the woman's nostrils and her own desire.

It was a heady feeling, to belong to another person so completely. Tywin did not blame these men in the least for wanting such a symbol on the finger of the women they each loved.

"But why?" Oberyn asked Sansa, frowning. "Everyone knows you are the Great Lion's."

Sansa grinned at that and leaned into him, so close that they were borderline indecent. But Tywin adored her open affection with him and did nothing to stop it. Let everyone knew how much his wife loved him. She was stroking his chest, her body pressed against his.

"It's not just for others. It's for ourselves as well. An emblem of our love and our commitment to one another. Each time I see this ring, I am reminded of how much Tywin loves me and the promises he made to me."

"So, it is a way of claiming one another?" Oberyn prodded, intrigued.

For once Tywin was not offended by the brash and bold man from Dorne.

Before he could answer, Sansa did.

"In a way. After all, I want everyone to know that Tywin is mine," she said, her grin ferocious.

Oberyn threw his head back and slapped his knee, winking at Tywin.

"She is all lioness, isn't she?"

Tywin rubbed his hand on her back, loving how Sansa leaned into his touch.

He didn't mind being claimed by this woman in the least. In fact, it was the first time in his life that he could remember anyone wanting him so much. Normally his reputation had people steering clear of him, and while some mothers had sent their daughters into his path, it wasn't for him – it was for his gold, his position, the Lannister name.

But Sansa had wanted him. The man.

"She is indeed," Tywin said, agreeing with the man from Dorne. Sansa was all lioness.

"I think it is lovely," Elia said, smiling at Sansa.

"Thank you. Each time I look at the ring I am reminded of his commitment to me, to our love and our life together."

There were a few raised eyebrows at that statement. Most in Westeros were not used to such open affection between high-born men and women. It was something that even Kevan and Tygett were getting used to. And they would get used to it.

The protective, jealous part of Tywin adored how Sansa gushed about him to anyone who would listen. He preened under her affections and her adoration of him, how she defended him to any who might disparage his name. He was not an easy man – but Sansa loved him nonetheless.

She understood and accepted all parts of him – including the awful things he would do to keep those he loved safe.

While it might make him possessive and even more archaic than he already was, he wanted everyone in the realm to know how much they loved one another. And seeing his house colours, his gold on Sansa's finger, well, Tywin liked it more than he cared to admit.

With that, the others began to leave, to prepare for the trial of the decade that would unfold in a short while. Word had come that a crowd had already gathered on the steps of the Great Sept.

But before any of that could take place, Tywin needed to speak with his son and his brothers.

Sansa kissed him on the forehead and then linked arms with Elia, the two women closer than ever, chatting as they exited the room, Oberyn lightly japing with them, his mood jovial.

When it was just Lannisters, Tywin stepped out from behind his desk and went to Jaime.

He cupped Jaime's face in his hands and looked into his son's eyes.

"There is no shame if you cannot do this. Ser Barristan, even injured, is a formidable opponent."

Jaime nodded, eyes serious, his look intense.

"Father, I can do this. Ser Barristan is one of the best swordsmen in the realm. I do not dispute this. But he has been weakened. He is slower from his injuries, and he doesn't have a full range of movement. And I have trained under Ser Arthur Dayne for two years. I merely need to get Ser Barristan to yield; this is not a fight to the death."

Tywin grunted, agreeing but still. Was he setting his son up for failure?

Jaime swallowed hard.

"I am ready."

Tywin didn't look at Kevan and Tygett, only at Jaime. He knew what he was asking his son. He knew what the consequences would be if his son failed. But Tywin knew, from Sansa and from Jaime, what hell that Aerys had put his son through. He knew what Jaime had endured, being named to the Kingsguard. He knew what his son had done in another lifetime. Jaime had killed this King once. Even though it would not be Jaime's sword wet with Aerys blood in this timeline, there was a sense of justice in naming Jaime his champion.

Tywin nodded.

"I know. You will be named my champion."

The smile on Jaime's face was full of confidence, tinged with a need for revenge.

"He hurt mother, didn't he?" Jaime asked, more a statement than a question.

"Yes."

Jaime swallowed hard. Tywin allowed his son to see his rage, his disgust, his fury. Emotions he'd carried for years along with bitter regrets and a desire for revenge he'd held on to, thinking that he'd never again love again. Thinking that Aerys had stolen from him.

Until Sansa.

She was what made all this bearable. She was Tywin's light. His beacon. His hope.

"Then I shall ensure that I win, and we will have our vengeance. For mother."

Tywin could only nod.

"For your mother."

Tywin's own personal need for revenge had waned, with Sansa in his life. It wasn't the consuming need like it had been for so much of his life, and for that, Tywin was thankful.

Revenge consumed a person, hollowing them out and emptying their life of meaning.

What happened when the revenge one sought was finally granted? What came next if that was all a person had?

He was grateful he no longer faced such a future.

Tywin could see, now, how bleak and empty his life had become before the visions of Sansa had begun. She had given him hope, for a different future. One with her and their children, a son he'd won back to his side, and a place to leave his mark on the Seven Kingdoms.

No, today, Tywin didn't want Jaime to win for revenge. It was practicality that ruled. Aerys needed to pay for his misdeeds. He needed to be held to account for his crimes. And Westeros needed the era of the dragon to end.

Tywin cupped Jaime's cheek once more, stroked and then gave a final nod.

"For justice," Tywin said.

"For justice," Jaime repeated.

The four Lannister men exited the study together.

The time of the dragon was done.

The era of the lion had begun.