Chapter 40

King's Landing – Tywin

The moment he was done with his speech in the Dragon Pit, Tywin immediately sought out his wife.

He understood what today had wrought – the power and perception that he had been able to cultivate by orchestrating the events as he had.

It had been purposefully done and with a masterful stroke of irony if he didn't say so himself. The Mad King dead by fire. People would be talking about the demise of Aerys for years.

It was a death that served a greater purpose – and that purpose was to showcase House Lannister's influence on the realm.

But now the trial was done, and the stench of burning flesh was churning even his hardened stomach.

His duty as King was over, for now.

His time as a husband was required.

The person Tywin was most concerned with was his beloved. Sansa had been magnificent from the moment they'd first met with their alliance this morning, through the crowd that had pawed and pushed at her, and then the trial and the subsequent punishment.

Tywin understood that none of this would have been possible without her influence on his life. He was also acutely aware that Sansa was not yet used to the brutality of the time in which she now lived. Aerys death and that of his pyromancers had been gruesome, even for him. Watching a man burn to death was not an everyday occurrence.

Kevan met his gaze, and the guards fell in around his wife as Tywin stalked towards Sansa, needing reassurance that she was fine, which he did not get when he came closer, noting her pale face and wan features.

"I need to get out of here," she whispered, clinging to him.

Seeing her so weak upset Tywin greatly, and he barked out harsh commands as his men scrambled to bring a carriage for their use. He knew one of his men would assure their horses made it back to Eastern Den.

For now, all that mattered was Sansa.

Tywin cursed his armour, for her could not hold her close, only able to stroke her hand while her tired eyes tried to reassure him.

"I think it was just the day itself. It was warm today, and I wasn't able to eat much," she said, her voice trailing off.

Inside, Tywin worried, although he hoped she didn't see it. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and helped her into the carriage that would take them home. He would call for some mint and ginger tea along with dry toast when they were back in their chambers.

When their carriage pulled into the courtyard of the Lannister mansion, the noise from the crowds outside immediately lessened. The revelry that would go on tonight would be raucous. It wasn't every day a King as reviled as Aerys died in such spectacular fashion. There was much to celebrate, and Tywin would allow the people to have their fun – for tonight.

But for him and Sansa, their night would be quiet and spent alone, in each other's company.

When the carriage stopped, Tywin immediately held out his hand to help Sansa.

"I'm fine," she protested, but it was weakly done.

"You are not fine, nor do I expect you to be. Today was horrific and you handled yourself well. You need rest and to be pampered," he said, voice gruffer than he intended, but he did not like seeing her like this.

He couldn't help himself. He would always worry about her, and even more when she was with child.

Jaime came galloping into the yard right behind them, a worried look on his handsome face.

"Father, is Sansa sick?"

Tywin thought it boded well for the future of his noble House that Jaime loved Sansa like a sister. Although considering what his son had gotten up to with his flesh and blood sister, perhaps that was a bit problematic.

That was yet another on Tywin's endless list of things to accomplish – take the time to speak with his son about his ill-conceived relationship with his twin, as well as explain the events that had transpired at the Rock while Jaime had been in King's Landing. The deaths of Gerion, Tyrion, Cersei and Addam required a private conversation – one that Tywin was not looking forward to.

"I am fine; your father is just being overly protective," Sansa said but grimaced as she did, and then wobbled, clutching at him.

"Enough of this shite," Tywin snapped, scooping Sansa up into his arms.

She might be more than four months gone with his child and a tall woman, but she was still slight and easily carried by him. She clung to him, which Tywin liked as she strode through the mansion and up the stairs to their private wing, where Barba hovered, looking at him with narrowed eyes as if she held him responsible for the state that Sansa was in.

Tywin placed Sana gently on the bed and leaned over her, again kissing her gently.

"Love, I will get rid of my armour and be back soon. Listen to your maid, and I will call for Pycelle."

She reached for him, and the worry in Tywin bloomed, swift and all-consuming.

"You're coming back?"

Her eyes looked troubled and concerned.

Tywin leaned down and gently pressed his lip to his.

"Yes, my love. I am all yours tonight."

Her eyes brightened at that statement, and once again, Tywin was struck by how unique Sansa was. His entire life, he'd been wanted for his power, position, and gold. Until Sansa. His wife wanted him and him alone. It was a heady feeling indeed, although the entire evening was tinged with worry. He hoped it was merely exhaustion that had Sansa so out of sorts. He wasn't used to his vivacious wife being so quiet.

"Can you read to me? Perhaps something in Valyrian? I love listening to your voice," she said.

Tywin merely nodded. If she wished him to read until he was hoarse, he would do so. Anything for her.

"That can be arranged."

He stood then and gestured for Barba to speak with him, away from Sansa.

"What is wrong with her, Your Grace?" Barba asked, clearly worried.

Tywin didn't sigh out loud, but he felt the responsibility for Sansa pressing down upon him.

"I believe she had exhausted herself. The trial was long and emotional and the death of Aerys unpleasant." Tywin grimaced.

The smell of charred flesh had let to leave his nose. Perhaps a bath was in order.

"I have the Grand Maester coming to examine Sansa. Draw a bath for her and bring her some light refreshments. No meat," he said, meaning it.

Neither of them would have the stomach for it tonight. While others rejoiced in the death of Aerys, Tywin knew his wife would be assimilating everything she'd witnessed today. No matter how cruel or evil the person, Sansa was not a woman that celebrated death.

Barba nodded and hurried to do his bidding, and Tywin knew his wife was in good hands until he returned. His squire was waiting for him in a room adjacent to their bedchambers; a young Lannister, a cousin from Lannisport. The lad helped him with his armour, the cumbersome process holding none of the appeal as it had when Sansa helped him when they'd first been at the Rock.

After he was done with his armour, Tywin bathed quickly in an adjoining bath and then dressed in a light tunic and soft breeches, finally feeling clean from the events of the day.

Though he would admit it to no one, today had been trying for Tywin as well. Aerys had once been a friend – someone Tywin had pledged his loyalty to. There was much that Aerys had taken from him, and he had long ago lost his way, but still, Tywin felt the weight of another life gone at his decree.

His soul was stained with all the death he'd meted out in his lifetime.

When he re-entered their bed chambers, he was pleased to see the colour had returned to Sansa's pale cheeks, and she was eating a snack of bread, cheese and grapes, chatting amicably with Barba. She'd bathed and was wearing a nightdress that was far more circumspect than what he was used to with his daring, modern wife, and he knew it was because Pycelle would soon be here to examine her.

Barba gave him a knowing look and then wagged a finger at Sansa.

"Listen to your husband and the Maester," she said sternly.

Sansa's lips quirked.

"I will, I promise."

"She will be resting all evening," Tywin decreed.

He hadn't liked how pale and listless Sansa was, although she seemed to have recovered just fine.

There was a knock on the door, indicating that Pycelle had arrived.

Tywin was grateful for his wife's voluminous gown, though he knew that Pycelle would wish to see her stomach. Tywin did not like it one bit but knew it was unavoidable during such examinations.

In typical Sansa fashion, she latched onto his hand and dragged him to the bed beside her.

"Do not think you aren't part of this," she muttered, giving him the look. It was one where Tywin knew he'd best obey his bossy wife or pay the price later.

Tywin arched an eyebrow at her, by now well used to Sansa's views on a man's place when it came to babies and children. Namely beside her.

"I didn't get into this state by myself, and if you think I am birthing your child, with no drugs I might add, without you by my side, think again, Tywin Lannister. I don't care if you're King of the entire world; you will be here for this event and all its many stages!"

Pycelle's mouth dropped open, and Barba snickered. Tywin merely grinned indulgently at Sansa, knowing Pycelle would have his work cut out for him with Sansa as his patient.

"I also wish to speak with a midwife," she announced, glaring at Pycelle. "I do not believe men know more than women when it comes to birthing babies."

Pycelle sputtered and looked to Tywin, who merely shrugged and pressed a soft kiss to Sansa's forehead.

"Whatever my queen wishes, she shall have."

It was a far stupider man than Tywin Lannister that would argue with his pregnant wife.

"Flatterer," Sansa mumbled, but her lips quirked, and she held onto his hand tightly. He knew she was nervous about giving birth in what she called 'archaic' times. So was he. No one knew better than him what could go wrong.

"I never," Pycelle muttered and began his examination, making hasty work when he looked at Sansa down there as Tywin scowled at the man.

"I just need to ensure she isn't open and there isn't any bleeding."

For her part, Sansa seemed less than impressed with the entire event and Pycelle's so-called knowledge, muttering things under her breath that she knew more about a woman's body and the development of a baby from high school biology than this man did.

Tywin did not doubt that she did. The school systems in Sansa's time seemed first-rate. And it didn't seem to matter if a person was a man or a woman – they educated them all the same. Women seemed to have as much knowledge as men.

When Pycelle was done with his exam, he announced that the Queen was healthy, and so were her babies.

Tywin stilled, and even Sansa paused at that pronouncement.

"Babies? Like plural?" she squeaked.

Tywin's own heart began to race as he imagined how much the birth of twins had affected his first wife. The very last thing he wanted was for twins to weaken Sansa.

Pycelle, either oblivious to their internal distress or just ignoring it, bobbed his head, grinning.

"Yes, Your Grace. Your husband is a virile man and has given you twice the blessings."

Sansa snorted.

"It has nothing to do with the man," she muttered.

Pycelle frowned.

Before the Maester could respond, Sansa was on him with a dozen questions.

"But how can you be sure I am pregnant with twins? I am only four months gone."

"Yes, well, for a woman of your height, you are already quite larger ---"

"LARGE?!" Sansa shrieked. "Are you calling me fat, Grand Maester?"

Pycelle looked to Tywin, who did nothing to come to his aid. He was on his own.

"No, Your Grace, I am not insinuating you are fat. I was merely stating that compared to your sister, your stomach is quite a bit larger than hers."

Sansa rolled her eyes at him, clearly not impressed. Tywin was hiding his smirk. He'd never seen anyone put Pycelle in his place the way Sansa was.

"So that is what you are basing this upon? My shape compared to my sister's. Is that all? Do you not wish to take a family history? To see if twins run in the Tully bloodline?"

Pycelle puffed out an angry little breath and drew himself up to his full height.

"I may not be a woman or a midwife, but I have been doing this for quite some time, my dear. I think you will find that my record when it comes to predicting more than one babe to be quite good. In fact, I dare say there isn't another Maester in the realm who is as accurate as I am!" he huffed out.

As if realizing that he'd just yelled at the Queen and that Sansa appeared to be on the verge of tears, Tywin hastily dismissed the Maester, who left a tonic that Tywin knew Sansa would not touch.

She did not trust ancient remedies, which did not bode well for when she might need them. Tywin knew that was a fight for another day. For now, they had to deal with the fact that his wife was pregnant with twins.

Again!

Despite the fear that pregnancy inherently brought about in him, Tywin felt his chest swell with pride.

Twins!

Sansa was going to give the pride two new lions. It was a boon he had not expected – not at this stage in his life.

"Sansa," he breathed, overwhelmed by the moment.

Her lips trembled, and then suddenly she was sobbing, clutching at him.

"Oh my god, how am I going to give birth to two babies without an epidural?" she cried.

Tywin knew what she spoke of since Sansa had talked to him about how modern medicine brought babies into the world. He thought it amazing that they could keep the mother and child safe enough that she did not feel the pain of birthing a child and that there were medical procedures when a child went into distress. She claimed it saved thousands of lives each year.

But those methods were hundreds of years in the future.

Here and now, Sansa had only him to rely upon.

Tywin held her tight, his hands on her stomach as he stared at her in wonder.

"My gods, what a bounty," he cried while Sansa scowled at him. "Why on earth do you look like that?"

"I'm going to get fat," she responded with a snap to her voice.

Tywin grinned.

"I prefer the term voluptuous," he purred, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.

She moaned, clinging to him.

"Tywin, I have to birth two babies! Not one, but two! Why do you have to overachieve at everything you do?" she said with a whine.

Tywin's chest rumbled at her complaints, for she knew that Sansa would love both their children.

"I promise I will be with you when your time comes."

Her blue eyes flashed.

"Of course you will be here, holding my hand and helping me through bringing your children into the world. I do not care it if it unseemly or not done. I will not be doing this on my own!"

He rumbled out a laugh and kissed her again, as she huffed out a breath. Leaving the bed, Tywin strutted around the room, calling for their supper to be brought to their small dining room.

"Twins," he said again, pleased despite what Sansa said about it being the woman's body that determined if twins were happening.

"Gods, your ego really will know no bounds," she muttered.

Tywin smirked at her.

"I am an exceptional man."

She snorted again, but something flashed in her eyes, and he knew she agreed with him.

That night they dined on a warm summer salad and a light soup with fresh bread. Sansa's colour had returned in force, and that evening she sprawled one of the chaise loungers on their terrace while the warm breeze blew her hair around her face, her head in his lap as Tywin read to her in Valyrian, his voice melodic in the night.

In the distance, they could hear the celebrations from the death of the Mad King, but only if one strained their ears. Here, tucked away in their safe haven, it barely registered.

He read for an hour until Sansa fell asleep. Tywin was content to sit there, her head on his lap as he gazed upon her face. It was almost impossible to imagine that this time last year, the realm had been gripped by war, his future so bleak, and his family at odds with one another.

And no Sansa. That was the scariest thought of all – that had she not stumbled across his lion sigil ring, she wouldn't be here with him now.

Tywin rested a hand on the swelled stomach where the next lions of Lannister grew, safely.

Sending a silent prayer to gods he didn't believe in, Tywin asked not for his salvation but for that of those he loved – Sansa, Jaime and these unborn children that he might somehow be strong and wise enough to create a world where no one could harm them and where House Lannister ruled a peaceful realm.

Eastern Den – Tygett

After they had dealt with the Mad King's remains, a gruesome and unpleasant task, Tygett hurried back to the Lannister mansion. He wanted a bath to rid himself of the smell of charred flesh and then to find Elia and have supper with her and the children. In two days, he was leaving for Dragonstone.

He knew his duty and was prepared to do it and do it well, for the honour and prestige of their House, which had risen far in the last few months.

But never had leaving been so difficult for Tygett Lannister.

He knew why.

He'd finally succumbed to what he had sneeringly referred to as the Lannister curse.

His entire life, he'd watched Lannister men fall hard for the women they married, and he had vowed never to join their ranks, thinking it had somehow made them both weak and foolish.

And for most of his life, he'd managed to avoid such entanglements. The whores were plentiful in nearby Lannisport, and he had sufficient gold to pay them to fulfill whatever desires he had. He'd warmed his bed with his choice of companion and sought glory on the battlefield, knowing that as a third son, nothing more would be expected of him.

Tygett had been perfectly content to live the rest of his life in such a manner, leaving the procreation of the next generation of lions to his older brothers– namely Tywin and Kevan.

For the most part, his plan had worked to perfection.

Tywin had married Joanna and promptly got an heir and a daughter, and Kevan followed suit shortly after marrying Dorna.

When disaster had struck and Lady Joanna had died on the birthing bed, Tygett didn't realize he'd lose his brother as well. For a decade, Tywin had remained distant and aloof from the rest of the family, shutting them out and driving a deep wedge into the once mighty House Lannister.

Then his eldest brother had shocked them all by remarrying, taking a young, fertile Tully wife, six months ago. One look at Lady Sansa, and Tygett knew he would not be needed to produce any little lions for their House. He imagined his brother would get a child on his new wife within a month of their marriage, and true to his prediction, Lady Sansa had announced her first pregnancy before they'd marched for King's Landing.

At only twenty-three, Tygett imagined she could give his brother three or four healthy children, well assuring the Lannister legacy for years to come.

Which had left him perfectly content with his life and his lack of wife and children. A man such as himself did not need such entanglements. Tygett watched Tywin fawn over Sansa, and while he was happy that his brother had found another to love, Tygett knew that life was not for him.

Until he'd ridden down the Golden Road with Kevan to rescue Jaime and found her.

Princess Elia Martell Targaryen – wife to the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaegar Targaryen.

A woman with a daughter already and another child on the way.

A woman that was spoken for and far above his station as a third son.

A woman that somehow stole his heart and upended his entire world within moments of that first meeting.

Now here he was, fretting at leaving her, even though she was perfectly safe in his family's mansion in King's Landing!

Bah!

If only Gerion could see him now, Tygett could hear the japes fall from his brother's mouth, as yet another male Lannister had gone and fallen in love.

Still, Tygett had few regrets at how hard and fast he'd fallen, especially when he stepped into these rooms that Elia now occupied.

"Papa Lion!" little Rhaenys cried, bestowing a new moniker on him, though one that Tygett was secretly pleased with. He had hoped that the little girl would come to see him as her father with hers now dead and buried.

He scooped her into his arms without a moment's hesitation, as comfortable in the rooms as he was in his own. He tickled little Rhaenys, who laughed and clung to him like a monkey.

The woman he loved was rocking her newborn son in a chair, and she smiled indulgently at the two of them as Tygett spun Rhae around, the little girl giggling madly.

When he was dizzy enough, he took his seat, keeping the toddler on his lap and smiled at Elia, who looked serene and content.

"How are you faring?" he asked, somewhat gruffly.

The entire day had been an exercise in his patience. Watching Elia bravely take the stand against her goodfather had been one of the proudest moments of Tygett's life. And the most difficult. He wanted to be the one to slay dragons for her, but Sansa had explained how this was something Elia had to do.

"I am good, Tyg," she said softly, using the nickname she had for him. He liked the familiarity it spoke of between them.

He cocked his head, looking at her. Indeed, she seemed to be at peace; finally.

"You were very courageous today. What you did took a great deal of bravery."

He liked it when she blushed. The woman had been paid far too few compliments by his estimation, and he meant to make up for that each day.

"I merely did my duty and spoke the truth."

Rhaenys wiggled, now anxious to find a toy to play with. Tygett set her down and watched as she shuffled away on wobbly legs, turning back and grinning at him every so often as to reassure herself that he was still there.

"There are many who wouldn't have done what you did. Do not dismiss your bravery Elia," Tygett said, hating how harsh he sounded.

He wasn't used to wooing high-born women – and never a princess!

When would she realize that he was a brute? A man that was more comfortable on a battlefield than in these elegantly appointment rooms.

Tygett might be a Lannister, but he was a man built for war.

To his astonishment, Elia smiled at him.

"You always know the right thing to say. Let me call for the nanny who will feed Aegon and then we can sup together."

She frowned.

"Unless you wish to be with your brothers tonight. I didn't think ---"

"Stop," he commanded softly, delighted that she wanted to be alone with him.

"My brother has whisked Sansa away to their private chambers, and we both know that means we will not see them until morning. Ned has done the same with Lady Catelyn, reluctant to be parted from her. And last I checked, Kevan, Jaime, Stannis and Oberyn were speaking of invading my brother's wine cellar and toasting the Mad King's death. I would be delighted to have supper with you, Princess."

She titled her head.

"I'm not a princess."

Tygett snorted.

"I thought that was your title from before you married him," he sneered the last word.

Tygett didn't like to be reminded of her marriage to Rhaegar, short as it might have been. In his mind, Rhaegar would always be beneath her – unworthy of a woman of Elia's caliber.

"I don't think your brother will like you calling me that," she responded evenly.

"I could give a fuck what Tywin thinks. I'll call you by your proper title when I damn well feel like it, and he can get used to it."

For a moment, he worried that Elia would be upset that he'd sworn in front of her and then she threw her head back and laughed - a full, rich sound filling the room.

"Gods, you are so good for me. You are so unlike any man I've ever met. You don't treat me like I'm stupid, or delicate, or like I am weak."

"Because you're not any of those things," Tygett responded immediately.

Elia shook her head in wonder.

"If only you knew how much that meant to me, that you see me that way when so many others did not."

Before Tygett could respond, the nanny was there, taking Aegon into her competent arms. Tygett helped Elia to her feet, noting how much stronger she appeared since her food had tasters and she was being fed food prepared for his family – by people he trusted. He hated to think that someone might have been deliberately making her sick while she was in King's Landing and vowed to do whatever necessary to keep this woman safe and out of harm's way.

He escorted her to the small dining area in her apartments, inquiring if she was comfortable in the Lannister mansion.

"Oh yes, I love it here. It is so nice to have two women of my station here with me."

Elia paused and looked shy.

"I had a court, you know. When I was married to Rhaegar, I had women that were pledged to me, but it was so different, under the beady eyes of the Mad King. None of us truly felt safe. Not like now. Your brother has eyes only for his wife. Lord Tywin is not a King whose affections will find him in the beds of other women."

Tygett arched an eyebrow at Elia's assessment, though it wasn't wrong. Tywin would never take another woman into his bed as long as Sansa lived. Tygett wondered if he even noticed other women, too fixated on his wife most days. And while all the Lannisters knew it, Tygett was surprised that Elia had noticed.

And he was a bit shocked that she'd be so bold as to speak of such things.

Then, as if she realized what she had said, she blushed, red as a tomato and stammered out an apology.

Finding her more adorable than he could express, Tygett picked up her hand, stroking it softly.

"You've discovered the Lannister secret," he said, his voice deep and rumbly as he winked at her.

Her heartbeat fluttered in her neck, and Tygett longed to place his lips there – to kiss this woman senseless.

"The Lannister secret?" Elia asked, almost breathlessly.

Tygett leaned in closer. They were betrothed for all intents and purposes. While they rarely had a chaperone, since Elia had two children and they were not precisely blushing virgins, Tygett had been careful not to press too far with Elia.

Tonight, however, he seemed to be unable to help himself.

He brushed his lips along the back of her hand, loving the slight shudder that went through her. Those dark eyes were impossibly wide as they looked upon him. He would never understand how a woman of her stature didn't find him lacking but vowed to be worthy of her each and every day for the rest of their lives.

"When a Lannister man falls in love, there is no room in his heart for any other woman. Only the one that has captured his love."

Seeing that Elia was hanging on his every word, Tygett continued. He was no poet, but he'd watched Tywin fall in love not once but twice. If his dour older brother could give himself to his beloved, so could Tygett.

"Truly?" Elia asked in a breathless whisper.

Tygett nodded, still holding her hand, pleased she hadn't pulled away.

"You see, we are fulfilled when our true love enters our lives. Content with the one woman who was meant to be ours. We do not need to warm other beds nor seek out companionship with anyone but our wife."

Elia swallowed hard.

"My brother loves his paramour. He treats her kindly. But others occupy his bed; sometimes she joins them, but other times she does not."

Elia's cheek remained red, but she lifted her chin. They both knew these were not topics that a proper high-born woman should be discussing – not even with a man that would soon be her husband. But discuss them they would.

"I will never want another in our bed, Elia. You will be mine, and I do not share. I am a Lannister, and that is not how our marriage will be. I will be true to you, and you will be true to me. I will never let another man, that is not me, touch you," Tygett growled, unable to help himself.

He found himself possessive of her in a way he'd never experienced before in his life. He couldn't abide the idea of any man even touching her, let alone sharing her in their bed!

For a moment, he worried he'd significantly overstepped. She clearly knew about the proclivities of her brother. There were always stories about those in Dorne and how much … looser their moral compasses were. Elia was Dornish, but on this, Tygett would not compromise.

Her hand came up, stroking through his whiskers, something fearsome and bold sparking in her eyes.

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"Wouldn't what?" Tygett asked, momentarily confused.

"Take another woman to your bed when we are married. Sleep with someone that is not me. When we are married, you will belong to me, and I will belong to you."

"I don't need to be married for that to happen," he muttered. "It's already true."

Elia's eyes widened.

"Truly?"

Tygett nodded and then frowned, slightly upset.

"Of course. You're all I've thought about for months. Why on earth would I risk anything by taking some whore to my bed?"

Elia was speechless.

"Elia, love, I'm not some green boy that has to get his dick wet every night. I can wait until our blasted brothers give us their approval to get married."

"I … I didn't know," she whispered.

He leaned in and rubbed his nose against hers, stroking her face with his calloused hands.

"You own me, woman," he growled softly.

She was clearly delighted if slightly perplexed by the idea of him already remaining true to only her.

"I've never known a man like you before. It's overwhelming."

Tygett chuckled then.

"That's because I'm a Lannister."

"Ahhhh!" she exclaimed, shaking her head at him, but grinning.

Their faces were impossibly close – so close that Tygett could feel Elia's warm breath against his skin.

"I wish to kiss you," he said, softly. The feelings inside him threatened to overwhelm him. "I want to leave knowing what your lips feel like against mine, but only if you wish, my princess."

Her fingers fluttered gently against his bearded face, and Tyg stilled, waiting for her to make the next move.

She moved her face closer so that there was barely any space between them, and then, she pressed her soft, full lips to his.

Tygett groaned and wrapped his arms around her slim form. He had her out of the chair and spun around, so he was now seated, and she was on his lap within a matter of moments, never breaking the kiss and careful to keep his hands on her head and her back, never going lower.

He didn't miss the press of her small breasts against his tunic-clad chest, nor the nipples that poked at him indicating her desire. Still, he kept the kiss mostly chaste, only dipping his tongue into her mouth every third or fourth second as the kiss went on and on. Finally, when Tygett was unsure if his control would hold out, he gently grasped Elia's arms and pushed her away from his mouth, their panting breaths intermingled.

Her dark eyes were filled with desire and wonderous delight.

"I've never been kissed like that before," she murmured, her fingers once again in his beard. She seemed to like the hair he sported, which boded well for the hair on his face matched the hair on his chest. He was no dragon but a lion.

"Neither have I," Tygett said truthfully. Whores didn't require kissing or finesse. They just required a man's gold.

Elia gave him a look, which said she knew what he was referring to, and Tygett wished he could tell her that he hadn't been that man. But he had, and he wouldn't lie nor hide his past.

Thankfully, Tygett was saved from digging himself a deeper hole when Rhaenys reappeared.

"Papa Lion," she squealed once more and ran towards him, just as Tyg sat Elia in her chair.

"Papa Lion, is it?" Elia said with an amused arch of her brow.

Tygett wondered if he'd been wrong to encourage such familiarity with little Rhae but couldn't help the love he had for the child as she snuggled on his lap.

"I didn't ask her to call me that," he muttered.

Elia's hand stroked down her child's silky hair as her eyes met Tygett's.

"I think it is wonderful. She will need a strong man in her life to be her father, and I can think of no one better. You love her, and she loves you."

Tygett swallowed hard as Elia sobered.

"Come home to us, Tygett."

He nodded.

"Our mission shouldn't take long, and neither Stannis nor I believe it to be dangerous."

Tygett couldn't tell Elia that Sansa had told him everything she could remember about the night Stannis Baratheon stormed Dragonstone in the other history. From what she knew, only a few loyal men were left at that point, as Rhaella died birthing Daenerys and the two children of Aerys fled across the Narrow Sea.

"All that matters is that you return to my children and me. We need you."

It was a heady feeling, to be wanted as a man and a father and not for his sword or gold.

"I vow it to you, Elia," he promised.

Elia leaned forward, capturing his lips again.

"You are the very best surprise in my life, Tygett Lannister, and my children and I need you here, with us. Do not be a hero. Just be ours."

His chest rumbled out a laugh, and he reassured Elia that his mission was far less dangerous than the one that Kevan, Ned and Oberyn were about to undertake.

She sighed as their dinner was served, retaking her seat.

"Such is the times we live in, though I am hopeful for peace," she said.

Funnily enough, so was Tygett. Not that his sword wouldn't always belong to his House. It did. Tygett would wage war to keep those he loved safe and from harm, but he agreed with Elia that it would be nice to have peace.

His last thought before he focused entirely on his new family was that if Tywin could somehow pull off the prosperity and reforms that he and Sansa discussed, it would be his most impressive feat yet.

And that was saying something when one was discussing the Great Lion and all he'd accomplished so far in his life.

Then Tygett pushed all thoughts of his brother and his new Queen from his head, finding it much more pleasant to focus on the little girl he viewed as his own in his lap and the woman he would make his wife sitting across from him, safe and loved and somehow, against all odds, his.

King's Landing – Tywin

As anxious as Tywin was to see Lord Ned Stark on his way to the Tower of Joy, there were two issues, both rather urgent, that needed their attention before Ned could leave the capital.

The first was the matter of Roose Bolton and the second that of Lyanna, her apparent marriage to the Crown Prince and the child that such a reunion resulted in.

Tywin refused to send Ned away from King's Landing blind as to what he would find when he arrived at the Tower of Joy. There didn't need to be more bloodshed when it came to the three men guarding Lyanna Stark, and there didn't need to be rumour and conjecture about the boy when Ned returned with him.

But the first issue took precedence – that of one Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort and a loyal bannerman to Ned Stark.

Or was he?

Ned had indicated that he would take two of his most trusted men with him to Dorne, Lord Howland Reed, and Lord Willam Dustin, which left the problematic Lord Roose Bolton in the capital.

Despite everything that had happened since Ned had arrived in King's Landing with Robert's vanguard, Tywin had not forgotten what Sansa had revealed about other problems within the realm.

Namely, men who would do whatever it took to gain power.

Men who would betray, lie, steal, and coerce to gain what Tywin now had.

Not that Tywin wouldn't do all those things and more. He would and without a qualm if it were required to keep his position in Westeros as well as his family safe.

The difference between those men and him was that Sansa had fallen in love with him, so he would use the knowledge she had to make their reign stronger while making his position secure. Tywin knew it made him a hypocrite – to condemn men for lusting after what he had but he didn't much care.

Several men required their attention for they were a threat to his reign.

Lord Petyr Baelish, whom Sansa indicated, became a real player in the game of thrones and a man that would do anything to possess the Iron Throne. She held him responsible for a conflict called the War of the Five Kings – a battle for the Iron Throne that resulted in a succession crisis perpetrated by his own flesh and blood when they'd carried on with their ill-conceived affair after Cersei had married Robert.

While the death of both Cersei and Robert, as well as Tywin taking the Throne, ensured such an event would not happen, Sansa warned him not to underestimate Littlefinger.

Lord Walder Frey, a loathsome man who would betray Lord Tully and turn on those he'd sworn allegiance to, thinking himself far more valuable than he was. Tywin already loathed House Frey so he looked forward to the day when he would deal with Lord Walder once and for all.

And finally, Roose Bolton. A man that was a sworn bannerman of House Stark and who would grievously break guest right at an event that came to be known as the Red Wedding.

His wife had fretted for days when Tywin had insisted they deal with the threat of Roose Bolton here and now.

"But it was you that convinced Roose to betray Robb Stark. That won't happen now," she'd said, once again confronted by the harsh reality of this world.

Sansa knew what would happen to Roose if their accusations were to come to light. His life would be forfeit.

"So you are telling me that Roose Bolton doesn't practice the flaying of men, even though Ned Stark has outlawed that in the North? Or that he didn't murder a man, rape his wife and get her pregnant with his bastard child? A child that will one day grow up to become a scourge on the North?"

She'd glared at him, working her wedding ring around her finger, knowing he spoke the truth. He knew he had angered her, but on this, he could not placate her. They had to be of one mind when they gave Ned Stark this information.

"Do not treat me like I am an idiot, Tywin. You only know those things because of me. Of course, I am aware of what Roose has already done. I also know that House Bolton has been loyal to House Stark for generations. Their lands are adjacent to one another, and Roose played a key role in the Rebellion."

"And all of that means nothing if the man is already engaged in small rebellions against his liege lord, Sansa," Tywin said, frustrated with her and this entire situation.

He was a man that acted decisively. He loved his wife, but endless debates were not something Tywin was used to. His word in the West had been law for years. As it had been when he'd been Hand. Having to consider someone else's perspective was something that took some getting used to for him.

For Sansa though, he would try. He knew he only had this information because of her – that all of this was only possible because of her presence in his life. Moreover, Tywin wanted her to be a real player in the game of thrones. Should the unthinkable happen to him, Tywin needed to know she was capable of ruling in his stead and raising their child to be the next King.

She bit her lip, and Tywin attempted a new tactic, taking a few deep breaths and gathering his thoughts. He didn't want to be at odds with Sansa over this – over anything. One of the things he found most attractive about his wife was her intelligence.

"From everything you've shared, and all that you know, do you trust Roose Bolton?" he asked her.

Tywin said nothing as his wife paced. He knew what the crux of the issue was. The punishment for betrayal in this time was death. And Sansa had been exposed to the harshness and brutality of this time repeatedly. Unfortunately, there was very little that Tywin could do to protect her from the ways of the world. This was the reality she now found herself living in. All he could do was try to be there for her when it all became too much.

She'd spoken to him at length about the elaborate justice system in modern times – but they were nowhere near that level of reform.

She sighed.

"Gods, no. I don't, Tywin. He did come when Ned called his banners, but he's problematic."

He rose then and drew her into the cradle of his arms, running a hand down her back as his lips were on her forehead.

"We shall give Ned this information and allow him to make whatever decision he wishes. That is all we can do. If it were me, and someone knew this about my bannerman, I'd wish to know."

She gave a heavy sigh and nodded.

Which was how they found themselves with a full complement of Northern lords in the Great Sept prepared to deal with the issues before the young Lord Ned.

Though Tywin had not named his small council, for no conclave or coronation had happened yet, those that formed their alliance were present.

His brothers, son and wife for the Westerlands.

Lord Stannis for the Stormlands.

The Blackfish for the Riverlands.

Lords Arryn and Royce for the Vale.

Oberyn and Elia for Dorne.

And Lady Catelyn Stark was there to support her husband. Tywin was pleased with how close Ned and his wife had grown during the time in King's Landing.

Those from the North represented a host of houses. It was an impressive lot that had responded to young Ned Stark's call to war and boded well for his reign as Warden of the North.

Gathered here today were Howland Reed, Willam Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull and Mark Ryswell. These were the men that had accompanied Ned to the Tower of Joy in that other timeline, all of whom had died except Ned and Howland Reed.

Additionally, there were the men that had fought in the Rebellion for the North: Roose Bolton, Rickard Karstark, Wyman Manderly, Jorah Mormont and Jon Umber, who was a beast of a man.

When those gathered had settled, Tywin rose, comfortable in his role as it were. He meant to win the North to his side, and while he had made great strides with Ned Stark, there was more work to be done. Tywin had not forgotten what his wife had revealed about the threat beyond the Wall. He did not mean to lose a kingdom he'd just won due to poor preparation or because no one believed in the enemy that was coming for them all – the dead.

"My Lords, thank you for meeting with us today. When the Mad King betrayed House Stark, killing your liege lord without a fair trial, it was a dark day for the Seven Kingdoms. The North has always been different from the rest of Westeros, perhaps most like Dorne in that regard as it maintains an identity that we in the south do not share."

There were stony looks on the faces of those gathered but no outright hostility.

"The old ways, the Old Gods, the blood of the First Men and those customs that your cling to, they make the North what it is. I wish to reassure all those gathered that I have no intentions of changing any of that. Your customs and your Gods will be respected, though any who breaks the law as decreed by Lord Eddard Stark will deal with the Warden of the North. His word is the law in the North."

There were murmurs of agreement, and an easing of those there, as the impact of his words were felt. Tywin meant them. He didn't need those in the North to worship the Seven; he only needed them to belong to this alliance; to honour their pledge to him.

"Thank you, Your Grace. When I called my banners, I admit, I was wary about House Lannister. I believed you were sitting out the war to hedge your bets on the winning side. I've since come to realize your feared that the Mad King had your son in his grasp and what Aerys might do to ser Jaime."

Tywin's mouth tightened into a thin line. He'd have liked nothing more than to have joined forces with the Rebellion. But he had been in no position to anger Aerys when the Rebellion began.

Tywin met Ned's gaze.

"We forged a bond, Lord Stark, when our marriages happened at Riverrun, to the daughters of Lord Hoster Tully. You gave me the care of your wife, and I gave you my belief that you and your men would emerge victorious at the Trident. Today, we honour those vows we made in the Riverlands. I wish to reassure you and those from the North that we will properly man the Wall – all seventeen castles. We will see that the men that serve there have proper armour, swords and training. We will stock all the castles of the Wall with food, horses and livestock. We will make sure the Wildlings cannot raid your shores and help you push back attacks by the Iron Born. We shall build a great port at the Western edge of the Wall to ensure the steady stream of supplies to the North."

Tywin paused and met the stern gazes of the Northern lords, many of whom had softened considerably during his speech. It wasn't just words either. Tywin meant what he said. He meant to make the North and the Wall strong.

"And we will ensure that quality men serve at the Wall."

GreatJon Umber snorted and crossed those massive forearms across his equally large chest.

Gods, the man had to be nearing seven feet, Tywin thought.

"It all sounds lovely, Your Grace, but my question is why. Why now? Why turn your gaze to the North?"

Tywin had been anticipating this question.

"Because I am a man that knows his history, and I will not be caught unaware when an enemy we cannot negotiate with comes for us all."

There was silence before the scoffs and laughs began. Only Sansa did not smirk at him, think him a fool, call him a mad man.

"Your Grace, you cannot be serious," the man from House Glover said. He was a grin on his face. "The Long Night was over eight-thousand years ago."

Tywin held the young lord's eyes, and slowly Glover lost his smile as he came under the penetrating gaze of the Great Lion. Each man here knew his reputation. When silence once again reigned in the Sept, Tywin spoke, his voice hard and implacable.

"And it took a decade and all the people of Westeros to band together to drive the White Walkers back to the Lands of Always Winter. Or do you not believe in your own tales? That which has been passed down through the generations?"

That shut most of them up and Tywin saw a few of them, the older ones, exchange wary glances. Men like Karstark and Reed and even Umber. Men who remembered and lived near enough to the Wall to understand what an accomplishment it was.

"Tell me, Lords of the North, why did your ancestors build the Wall? I have not seen it with my own eyes, but I hear it is a marvel – truly without equal in all of Westeros. A Wall so large it is one hundred leagues long and reaches over seven hundred feet high at some points. A Wall large enough that on its top, a dozen mounted knights can ride abreast of it. That isn't even mentioning the magical spells that were apparently woven into it, to keep the Others out. You mean to tell me you think that this Wall was built to keep the Free Folk out?"

Tywin scoffed at their naïveté, shaking his head at them. He had a rapt audience, everyone in the Sept hanging on his every word. Kevan and Tygett had cocked their heads, curious as to why he was spending so much time on this topic. He'd yet to inform his brothers of the army of the dead, and it was unlike Tywin to be focused on anything that wasn't in the South.

"Your Grace, you believe the White Walkers still exist? That the Others will come back one day?" Ned asked somewhat tentatively as if he were afraid of being mocked for speaking of such things.

Tywin understood. For years logic and reason had been his two guiding principles. Until some force had brought a woman seventeen hundred years from the future into his life. Now Tywin was determined to pay attention to the old legends and stories – the myths that had almost been lost to time.

"We are less than a league away from a pit that used to house dragons, Lord Stark. I've seen their skulls myself beneath the Red Keep. I know that those beasts were real. Just like I believe giants were real. And greenseers. And White Walkers. The Wall was built for a reason. The North clings to the Old Ways for a reason. Are you telling me there have never been any stories of unexplainable things from beyond the Wall?"

To that, there was silence in the room, for those in the North knew. They'd all heard the whispers. The rumours. The stories that had been handed down from generation to generation. Those odd disappearances, the murmurs of something not …. human that lurked beyond the Wall.

"When we were on our way to the Rock, my wife, a Tully, had a dream. She raced out of our tent in the Westerlands and led my men into the hills to find lion cubs. My house sigil, reborn and in our care after the last lion died hundreds of years ago. The cages where my ancestors kept the lions still exist, even though the beasts did not. Lord Stark, it is my understanding that the direwolf sigil was more than just a symbol for your noble House. I was led to believe that those in the North believe that true Starks can warg into wolves and dogs. That these … creatures are more than just monsters to be feared but loyal beasts to your House."

Tywin knew that no one had heard a king speak like this before. Indeed, he was, as Sansa would say, out on a limb. It was a risk, acknowledging the beliefs and lore in these other regions – including the North. Dorne would be next.

But Tywin meant to rule all regions and in a vastly different way than Aerys had.

He'd listened to his wife and heard why the Seven had fallen apart. Partially due to inept rulers like Robert and Joffrey. But more because of men imposing their beliefs on others.

Tywin meant to heal the realm and bring it together in a way that had never been done before. His wife thought it could not be done – that eventually, the Seven would tear itself apart. He thought differently.

His vision began now.

"Aye, Your Grace, the North is different," Ned began, slowly, as if testing his words.

Tywin liked that about the young Stark. He wasn't a man that spoke to hear his own voice. Nor did he make rash statements. He weighed what he said as if it had great importance. It was a key lesson for a young lord to learn, and one Tywin hoped Jaime and Stannis heeded.

Howland Reed, an odd man from Greywater Watch, eyed Tywin.

"I never imagined that an Andal man from the West would have such insight to those in the North."

Tywin looked to the two Tully sisters.

"I am learning. I spent years as Hand to Aerys, and I will not make the same mistakes as he did. The return of my House sigil in living form, as well as the nearly insatiable knowledge that my wife yearns for, has challenged me to be a better man than that of the Targ rulers of the past."

That diminutive form of House Targaryen earned a delighted snort from Lords Arryn, Royce, Umber and Tully.

"It was an alliance that brought down the dragons – not one house or region. And as King, it is an alliance I plan on honouring during my reign as King. We are only as strong as our weakest region."

"The North isn't weak, My Lord," Jorah Mormont responded, defensively.

Tywin cocked his head. He knew he had the Northern lords now. They were intrigued.

"As a region, no, it is not. However, it is the most sparsely populated region and that presents some problems. And the defence of the Wall has fallen to the North, some might say, unfairly. It is an area we in the South have failed at. It was all manner of regions that banded together to drive out the last Long Night. We have not upheld our promise to do so."

That earned some nods, and Tywin could see the hope bloom on the faces of the men from the North.

"The North does not keep with the concept of the seven. Your precious knighthood means little where we are from," Rickard Karstark said with a sneer.

Tywin nodded at the older man, knowing that he was right. Knighthood was a decidedly Andal concept and closely tied with that of the Seven Faced God. Still, there were ideals in knighthood that could be extrapolated and given to all men who might serve.

"That is true, Karstark, and while I do not wish to impose a knighthood upon all men of the North, any southern man who wishes to become a knight shall serve four years in four different regions before he earns the title of Knight."

That got a reaction from more than just those from the North.

Oberyn, Kevan, Jon Arryn, Brynden Tully and even Sansa herself gasped.

Jaime looked utterly intrigued, and more than one person began to chatter.

Tywin let them speculate before he cleared his throat.

"How can a man call himself a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms when he has not seen the Wall? Or the desserts of Dorne? The Sunset Sea, the vast fertile lands of the mighty Mander river or the soaring cliffs of the Vale? How can any of us think we are doing a service to these young men when they are trained to do nothing more than fight for their liege lord while never venturing beyond their own borders?"

Tywin preened as everyone hung on his speech. This was him at his best. He had waited his entire life to put his vision for the Seven in place.

"We will do away with the Kingsguard, an ancient order that did not truly serve its purpose. We will restore honour to the title of knight and what it means to defend the weak and the innocent. We will train men to root out corruption and help those that are in need. And we will forge these new bonds by ensuring that men who wish to become knights learn about all of Westeros. Not just the region in which they were born."

"And the Night's Watch?" Ned asked. "While I admit to being optimistic in having all seventeen castles of the Wall manned, theirs is an ancient order, their vows are sacred. That should not be cast aside. They predate any invasion of the Andals and go back to the First Men."

Again, Tywin was impressed by Ned Stark.

"What I propose is less about doing away with the order and instead of making it far more appealing to those who might wish to serve."

That caught everyone's attention.

"What do you have in mind, lion?" Brynden Tully asked.

Tywin smiled now, a rare enough thing and looked to Sansa.

"I will let the new Queen tell you her vision for the Wall and the Night's Watch."

Sansa rose, and all eyes were upon her. Tywin took a moment to look at the men in the room.

Some looked at her with lust in their eyes; for even four and a half months pregnant, she was a beautiful woman.

Others, like his family, looked at her with love.

There was support from Elia and Catelyn, who seemed to realize how much Sansa was changing.

Amusement on the faces of the Blackfish and Oberyn Martell and simple awe on the face of others.

There was no denying his wife was an impressive woman. She was worthy of her titles this Tywin knew, unequivocally.

"The Night's Watch need not change too much. Men should still take their vows in front of a sacred weirwood tree. They should still belong to that ancient order, and there should still be a Lord Commander. But there is no reason that men at the Wall need to remain unwed. There is no reason they should not have wives and children."

Tywin watched the reactions – stunned disbelief was the best way to sum it up.

Before anyone could protest, Sansa waved a pretty hand and began to pace, and he knew her mind was racing. All eyes in the room watched her, fascinated and intrigued by her, as Tywin often found himself.

"We know that men who have someone, something to come home, to will fight harder, fight better. We know that we have seventeen castles that need to be populated. Those castles need people to work at them – work those women and children can do. Livestock to be fed. Firewood to be cut. Clothing to be made. Food to be prepared and harvested. Imagine having a standing army at the Wall, where men could loyally serve. Imagine having a place where it wasn't a punishment but a place where a second or third son might find his mark? Imagine having such a force as to repel Wildling attacks, and those of House Greyjoy, and any others who might come for us? Imagine making the Wall one of the best fighting forces in Westeros."

"Seven hells Sansa, that's amazing," Jaime said, and to a person, there were nods of agreement.

Sansa blushed prettily.

"The Night's Watch would remain independent from the Crown. They would answer to their Lord Commander, but we would work in tandem with one another. It would not be a force used by any lord or King – no one man could command it. It would exist solely to keep monsters from invading our home. From invading Westeros."

Jaime was on his feet, swinging Sansa around and telling her how brilliant she was. His display was followed closely by her uncle, the Blackfish, who was almost salivating at such an army existing.

"Lass, it's brilliant."

Tywin looked to Ned, whom, as Lord Stark and Warden of the North, would feel this impact the most.

"What do you say, Lord Stark?"

Ned took his time, thinking before he rose and held out his hand. Tywin clasped the man's arm and pulled him close.

"I am proud to call you my goodbrother, Tywin Lannister. I believe such a force would be most welcome in the North."

"There are logistics to work out, and none of this will be easy. There will be those who balk at any changes we wish to make but mark my words, the North will not be left defenceless," Tywin crowed as a cheer went up in the Sept.

When they had calmed down, Tywin broached one last subject, knowing how delicate a matter it was. Of all the Northern Lords, Roose Bolton had remained the most aloof and apart – even from the others from his region.

"All of this hinges upon one important factor – the acknowledgment that your liege lord is Eddard Stark. That he is the Warden of the North and that his word is the law."

For most, there were murmured agreements.

Ned Stark might be a second son, but he had avenged what was done to his father and brother. He'd made a strong alliance and married well. He was a trueborn Stark and a man of the North.

But one man paled even further, those blue eyes going almost glassy.

Tywin didn't care that Roose sensed a trap. He didn't care that in the future, he'd used Roose Bolton's own ambitions to strike a critical blow to House Stark. That was a future that no longer existed, and now Roose was a threat to his alliance and the strength of House Stark.

"Know that Lord Stark has my full support, and when I receive word that someone has broken with his laws, I will inform him. Immediately."

"Who?" Ned snarled, his hand on the pommel of Ice.

"Lord Roose Bolton continues to practice the abolished tradition of first night," Tywin announced to shocked gasps.

Ned's eyes, furious, spun to pin Roose where he sat.

"How do you respond to such a charge?" Ned demanded.

Roose said nothing, wisely holding his tongue.

So Tywin told them what he'd learned, not revealing that it was Sansa whom had given him this knowledge.

"When he was hunting in the Weeping Water, Roose came upon a young miller and his wife. He hung the miller for not gaining his approval of their marriage and raped the wife. When the woman presented him with the baby from that event, Roose spared the bastard boy, a child named Ramsay, because he has the same pale eyes as his father. Or so I've heard," Tywin added, his eyes narrowing on the man from the Dreadfort.

"Lies," Roose spat.

Tywin shrugged.

"I suppose it will be simple enough to send for her and your bastard son, whom I believe is nearing his second nameday. You gifted her the mill, and sent her supplies and funds, and had the tongue of the miller's brother cut out to prevent Lord Rickard Stark from learning what had happened."

Tywin paused.

"Shall I go on?"

The fury on Roose's face was unmistakable, and everyone there knew that Tywin spoke the truth.

Ned, perhaps angrier than the rest, turned to Tywin.

"Send for this woman and her bastard child, along with Roose's wife, Lady Bethany Ryswell and his trueborn son. All four of them will present themselves to the court in King's Landing within one month. When I am back from Dorne, you shall answer for your crimes, Lord Bolton. Until then, you may think upon what you've done in a cell under the watchful eye of the King."

Tywin laid a comforting hand on Ned's shoulder and squeezed hard.

"I am sorry I could not tell you before. I just learned of this upsetting news."

Ned shook his head; his disgust was evident.

"I will deal with him when I return," Ned vowed, and Tywin knew that he would.

"I will keep him under guard and will send for his wife and this young woman and his two sons. We will have the truth, Ned."

Ned nodded.

With that, Tywin dismissed everyone but his family, Elia, Oberyn and Ned and Catelyn Stark.

Tywin noted how Tygett hovered around Elia, who sent him bemused glances, while Oberyn glared at Tygett, which was rich, considering that man's reputation.

Clearing his throat, Tywin gazed at those he now considered his family.

His two brothers, son and his wife.

A goodsister and brother that had been most unexpected in Ned and Catelyn.

And soon, another goodsister, in the delightful Elia who came with her brother, the over-the-top Oberyn Martell.

"I wish to discuss two delicate topics with those that I hold in the highest confidence. These matters are not to be discussed with anyone else. Do I make myself clear?"

Tywin received nods all around.

He looked to Sansa, who sighed and then nodded.

"It's time, Tywin."

Grimacing slightly, he shifted in his seat.

"What I am about to reveal will hurt some of you in this room. If I could avoid that, I would, but it is impossible. We believe that with the foreknowledge I will give you, you will be better equipped to deal with the situations you will encounter on your journeys."

Tywin paused, thinking about how he wished to proceed.

"Tygett, when you arrive at Dragonstone, you will find a very pregnant Rhaella. You are to do everything possible to ensure her survival and offer her safety if she returns to King's Landing and bends the knee."

Tygett nodded. "And if she does not?"

"Then you will make her see reason and return her to the capital by any means necessary. What is imperative is that you secure her son, Viserys, and the baby she is about to birth. They will also be given sanctuary but cannot be allowed to be raised by Targaryen loyalists. This is critical. Do you understand?"

"I do, brother, and I shall not fail."

Tywin merely grunted and then turned to Ned and Elia, the two people he would hurt the most with his final revelation.

"We have all heard the story of the kidnapping of Lyanna Stark. What I tell you now, I tell you because it is the truth. I do not share this information lightly or easily. I know it will hurt you."

Elia reached for Tygett's hand and squeezed it hard, while Ned did the same with Catelyn.

"Lyanna Stark was not kidnapped. She was not raped. She ran away with Rhaegar Targaryen."

Tywin saw the outrage and denial stamped across their faces but held up his hand.

"When you go to Dorne, you will find your sister at the Tower of Joy, guarded by three Kingsguard – Whent, Dayne and Hightower. They are some of the most talented and skilled men in the realm. This was done purposefully by Rhaegar, to guard his wife and unborn child – the third head of the dragon."

"No!" Ned bellowed, surging to his feet. "She was kidnapped. Abused. Hurt. She would not go willingly with that monster."

Sansa cleared her throat.

"She did. She was in love with him, or believed herself to be."

Ned was shaking his head in denial still, when Oberyn, dark eyes flashing dangerously spoke.

"Lion, you said his wife. What madness do you speak of? Everyone knows that Rhaegar was married to Elia. Perhaps he did run away with this woman, but she was nothing more than his whore!"

Tywin gave a weary sigh as Ned cursed Oberyn's name, and the two men snarled and glared at one another.

"ENOUGH!" Tywin bellowed, pleased when they both stepped back from one another. He looked at them both.

"Rhaegar annulled his marriage to Elia and married Lyanna. It is on record, at the Citadel."

Elia paled as Oberyn snarled and began to pace, now equally as outraged as Ned.

"Can he even do that?" Catelyn asked, the voice of reason.

Tywin shook his head.

"No. He could not. In the eyes of the law, Princess Elia remained Rhaegar's wife until his death. Her children are trueborn. Her child, her son, Aegon, will inherit Dragonstone and the newly renamed Crownlands as we discussed."

"And my sister's child? She believes him not to be a bastard. You would punish that child, an innocent, for what his father did?" Ned snarled.

Frustrated Tywin responded immediately.

"I will NOT. You will return your sister and her child to King's Landing, and I will acknowledge that child as a Stark. If it is a boy, that child will be given Moat Cailin, which you will rebuild for him. He will be another line of Starks in the North and will not be a threat to your trueborn son, Lord Stark. If that child is a girl, she was also be given the name Stark. She will be raised as a trueborn daughter of the North."

Oberyn cursed while Ned appeared pensive, and Kevan and Jaime were stunned by this turn of events.

"I do not like this lion, making this child a Stark. They are a dragon with dragon blood," Oberyn snarled.

"So are your niece and nephew. And yet, I have not punished either of them for being dragons, nor has any harm come to them under my watch."

Tywin levelled a hard look at Oberyn.

"In truth, I could have had every last person linked to that rotten House killed. Many in the realm would have backed me if I had chosen to do so. Many more probably think I am a fool to think that we might raise these children to not rebel against us one day."

Oberyn said nothing but Tywin knew that the man agreed.

"You know I speak the truth. As harsh as it sounds, I am taking a risk, allowing these descendants of Aerys the Mad to live. I am counting on this alliance to raise these children knowing what their grandfather and father did – what horror they almost brought down upon us all."

Oberyn swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod, and was just about to open his mouth when Elia's broken voice filled the Sept.

"He married her?" she cried, pitifully.

Unable to help himself, Tygett pulled her into his arms and shot a look to Oberyn that told him not to say a word about the familiarity Tygett was taking with his sister.

"Hush love, he is a wretched man. If he weren't already dead, I'd kill him myself for what he did to you."

Tywin felt for the woman, whose humiliation would be unmatched. To be passed over, not once but twice for this Lyanna Stark was a true blow. Tywin was glad that Elia had Tygett's love and support.

"Am I that awful that he took another as his wife?" she whispered.

Tygett cupped her cheeks and stroked, lovingly.

"Fuck no, Princess. You are incredible. It was Rhaegar that was lacking. A true man does not do that to his wife."

Elia's laugh was slightly hysterical and tinged with hurt.

"I will be the laughingstock of Westeros when this news is known. I would not blame you if you wished to get out of our betrothal. I am tainted, Tygett."

Tygett to his credit was shaking his head, vehemently. Tywin felt a fierce surge of pride for his younger brother, watching him become the man he'd always known he could be.

"Fuck that shite. I would marry you tomorrow and damn all those gossips and what they might say about you. Or me. I do not care, Elia. I love you, and I will only love you for the rest of my days. That is my vow, and nothing about your shit husband changes that."

Elia snorted.

"Only you would call the prince a shit."

"He was."

Tygett tugged her close and brushed his nose against hers.

"Fuck them all, Elia. Fuck anyone who isn't us. Fuck anyone who doesn't see how incredible you are. Fuck anyone who speaks ill of you without knowing you. We will prove them wrong. We will raise Rhaegar's children to love your House and mine. We will raise his sister and brother to love lions and wolves, the North and the South. This new babe, this child that will be a half-sibling to ours, will know our children as its family and be loyal to us. Because we are better than those dragons, and we will prove that once and for all."

It was an impressive speech and Oberyn and Ned were hanging on Tygett's every word. Tywin felt Sansa fit her hand into his as they looked at Tyg and Elia, who were wrapped up in one another.

"I love you. More than I've loved anyone in my life. When you return, I will marry you, Tygett Lannister. I care not if it causes tongues to wag if they say I didn't observe a proper mourning period. I am done being a victim. I wish to live my life with you."

To that, Tygett fit his lips against Elia's kissing her for all he was worth.

As if realizing they had an audience, Elia blushed and broke the kiss. Tucked against Tygett, who glowered at everyone there as if daring them to disagree with them.

It was Oberyn that broke the tension.

He clapped his hands and shook his head.

"I never imagined anyone could be as dramatic as us, but you lions are certainly entertaining. I will be honoured to call you my goodbrother, Ser Tygett."

Elia beamed at her brother but did not move from Tygett's embrace.

Ned grunted and approached Elia and Tygett. He swallowed hard.

"I disapprove of what my sister did, but her child is innocent. I hope you meant what you said – that we will raise these children to know the houses that stood by them."

Elia's hand reached for Ned's, and she squeezed. Hard.

"We will, Lord Stark."

There were more questions – endless ones that Sansa and Tywin did their best to navigate without giving too much away. Still, it was a sombre group that made its way back to Eastern Den for one last meal together before Kevan, Oberyn, Tygett, Ned, and Stannis would leave in the morning.

Tywin wasn't sure if the revelations today would have the effect he wished – he could only hope that they did. He knew that by controlling the information that others received, he had made himself appear even more omniscient than before. As he supped that night though, he couldn't help but reflect at the power of those at his table – how strong they already were.

Tywin Lannister meant to leave his indelible mark upon this world long after he'd gone.

He believed he was well on his way to doing so.