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Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022. See notes for more details.

242 AC

Another lord might have been disappointed at their firstborn child not being a son, but Tytos Lannister both cried and laughed - both with pure, unbridled joy, of course - when he entered the birthing chamber after she had given him a daughter.

Jeyne found herself smiling wryly in amusement at her husband despite how exhausted and pained she felt after the ordeal of childbirth.

"She's so beautiful," Tytos looked down at the baby, watery eyes full of wonder. "Can I hold her?" He was already reaching out with clumsy grasping hands, and Jeyne fought the urge to snatch the child away.

"Sit down first," She said sharply. "And be careful, she's delicate,"

Her husband did as obliged, as he always did. He was a rather biddable man. Eager to please, both forgiving and trusting. It had annoyed her once, when they first married, but over the years that had dulled somewhat as she realised that, for her at least, a biddable husband was a good thing. Few other men would have put up with a sharp-tongued, opinionated wife such as herself, let alone loved her.

Perhaps it would not be such a good thing for the Westerlands when he finally became lord, but that was another matter entirely. Tytos had never been meant for lordship, only becoming the heir to Casterly Rock after the unexpected deaths of his two elder brothers.

Thankfully he was indeed careful with the baby when he was given her, handling the child like she was made of glass. Jeyne hovered at his shoulder despite the fact that sitting up at all, let alone for any length of time, still pained her greatly. Her first birth had not been easy, though she knew it was worth it from the moment she held her daughter in her arms.

"She looks like me," Tytos beamed with pride.

Hm. Whilst the little girl did have the cheekbones and golden hair typical of the Lannisters, there were flecks of brownish-gold in those green eyes that were reminiscent of Jeyne's own, and there was a sharpness to the baby's features even now that certainly did not come from her cheerful, friendly-faced father.

Jeyne said none of this, however.

"What will her name be, my lord?" She asked instead. 

Her husband's brow furrowed.

"I haven't really thought about it, to tell you the truth. I was hoping you'd have some ideas," He scratched his head. Jeyne smiled. As I expected. "I suppose it should be a Lannister name, which narrows it down somewhat,"

"Tya," She had decided the instant she laid eyes on her daughter. "Her name is Tya,"

*

Tya was a rather fussy baby, about very specific things. She wouldn't settle if she wasn't wrapped in one particular blanket with a particular toy doll beside her, for example, and most definitely preferred one of her wet-nurses to the other. When she was displeased with something, she made that quite plain with a shrill shriek of protest and a glare that was rather intense for a girl of less than one. And she didn't seem too fond of other children, disdaining the young sons and daughters of various lords and knights that visited the Rock.

The baby made her mother laugh when she met her grandfather for the first time.

Jeyne liked her goodfather somewhat more than she liked her husband, as Gerold Lannister was an exceedingly clever, mild-mannered man, shrewd and quick-witted despite the fact he was often rather quiet, and a good ruler. Yes, there were the rumours that he had murdered his elder brother Tybolt, and later his brother's daughter Cerelle, to become Lord of Casterly Rock, but Jeyne cared little even if that was true. No one could deny that the Westerlands and House Lannister had prospered under his rule.

Gerold had looked down at Tya in the crib, idly reaching out to ruffle her hair as he spoke with Jeyne about some other matter, the latest trouble with the Reynes. He often spoke with her about such things, seeing as his two remaining sons were useless and his wife Rohanne had disappeared mysteriously years ago.

Jeyne couldn't keep the edge of dislike out of her tone as they spoke of Lady Ellyn - the scheming bitch who tried to seduce Tytos into setting Jeyne aside after the death of her own husband Tion, Tytos' elder brother - and was startled as Lord Gerold suddenly snatched his hand away from the crib.

"What is it?" She asked, concerned as her goodfather examined the end of his finger.

"She bit me," He said, mildly surprised.

"Tya!" Jeyne had tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't, lifting the baby out of the crib and settling her on her hip. "You can't do that to your own grandfather - he's Lord of Casterly Rock," She turned to Lord Gerold. "I am sorry, my lord. She hasn't got any teeth, I didn't think she could bite anyone,"

"No matter," He looked amused by the whole thing. "She seems to be a little lion for true - even without teeth, she has her claws. Knows what she likes and what she doesn't. I won't try to ruffle her hair again, that's for sure,"

*

Jeyne's second child and first son, the heir to Casterly Rock, was born two years after his sister. Once more it came down to her to choose his name - Kevan - though as Tytos was mourning his father, who had passed away three days earlier, she could perhaps excuse him for the matter not being the forefront of his mind. Kevan was a quiet and agreeable baby, though much less serious than his sister had been, and easier to settle.

Genna was born only eleven months later. She was noisy and often difficult, yet smiled and laughed as often as she screamed and threw tantrums. The now three-year-old Tya had no patience with the new baby when she cried, often demanding for her to be taken out of the room away from her, though she seemed to enjoy her sister when she was in a good mood, trying to get her to play with Kevan's toy knights and her own dolls.

Tygett was born in 250AC, when Tya was eight years old. Even as a baby he was rather serious, like his eldest sister, and didn't smile much, but was loud at the same time and easily irritated. Jeyne had hoped that her eldest daughter, now of an age to help care for the new baby, would take an interest in being responsible for Tygett as she would be a mother herself one day. But the little girl showed even less interest in looking after her youngest brother as she had for Kevan and Genna. Though she did try and play with him from time to time, she had no interest in singing lullabies or helping the nursemaids dress him.

Not a natural mother, then, Jeyne thought with wry amusement as she watched Tya glare at her baby brother when he started crying, sharply telling the baby to stop, which of course did nothing; her glare turned onto her sister when Genna laughed at her for trying to order an infant around like they understood what she was saying.

Truth be told, Jeyne herself had not been - and still wasn't - overly bothered with the squalling brats of other ladies, finding them loud and irritating, but with her own children things were different and she had loved them at first sight. Hopefully Tya would be the same.

And if not, she was a Lannister, and they paid servants for a reason.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, out of Jeyne's four children it was obvious that Tya was the leader. From the moment they could walk she often had Kevan and later Genna trailing after her in whatever activity she had chosen for them all to do. Perhaps it was because she was the eldest - and biggest, for now - that they admired her so.

Genna was Tya's opposite. Loud, smiley and sociable, the only traits the sisters shared was their undaunted confidence and unwavering stubbornness in the face of adversity. Tya was certainly protective over her younger sister, and seemed to enjoy her company where she could hardly stand being around her companions, other young ladies of a similar age.

She did seem to prefer the company of boys in general, particularly her brother Kevan. Jeyne had been rather concerned about her eldest son at first; he was the heir to Casterly Rock yet spent most of his time in Tya's shadow. But Kevan was a clever boy, diligent, good in his lessons and hardly a pushover to anyone else despite how he was generally walked over by his sister. And besides, he was well liked, whereas Tya even at eight was respected but feared.

Despite this, however, she could not stand either of her cousins, the children of Tygett's younger brother. Tya claimed that Stafford, her elder by two years, was almost a lackwit, thickheaded and boorish. Jeyne was inclined to agree; the boy liked to push around other children in the training yard, and had often tried to push Tya around as well, before realising that that never ended well for him.

However it was Stafford's younger brother, Jason, who really got under her skin. 

Jason was only a few younger older than Tya; you'd have thought they would be friends, given their closeness in age, but if anything it was the opposite. The boy seemed to be able to annoy Jeyne's daughter like no one else could. He weathered her stony glares with a grin, and laughed in her face when she snapped at him, never seeming intimidated or uncomfortable of her at all. Tya hated people laughing at her - given how people often laughed at her father - and it was only Jason that managed to make her drop her icy composure and shriek, yell and stamp her foot like any other eight year old.

Jeyne had even come across the two children wrestling on the floor several times, spitting furious insults at each other; very uncharacteric of Tya, who acted more composed than many adult women most of the time.

She suspected that Jason - who had an impertinent tongue even with adults, was smart for his age and far too sly for his own good - disliked Tya for her stiff and cold manner. Her daughter had often gotten him into trouble for misbehaving, often out of revenge. Tya had claimed that one of Jason's friends hit her, getting the boy sent away from the Rock, after Jason pushed her so she fell into the sea at the Lannisport docks (which he had been caned for at the time by Jeyne herself).

In short, they were both vile to each other and neither side was completely unearned. Jeyne only hoped that they would calm down with age; it was one thing to see two eight year olds punching and kicking on the floor, but quite another when it was a young knight and lady nearing adulthood.

*

252 AC

"My friends and bannermen," Jeyne's eyes narrowed as Tytos stood up to make an announcement to the hall, full of lords and knights from almost every household in the Westerlands. "I have joyous news, which I wish to share with you tonight,"

She truly had no idea what her husband was going to say, and as usual felt rather apprehensive. It could be anything from giving a heartfelt expression of gratitude to the cooks or something outlandish like making a kennel-master a landed knight.

"I wish to announce the betrothal of my eldest daughter Tya to Emmon of House Frey,"

Dead silence for a heartbeat, two, three.

Then the whole hall erupted into a roar of shocked displeasure. Rogar Reyne stood up abruptly, face red with anger as he stormed from the room. His hateful sister Ellyn, now a Tarbeck, started to laugh in incredulity. The Freys present were preening smugly where they sat together. Gods, that awful weaselly-looking boy of fourteen must be Emmon.

Jeyne wanted nothing more than to throttle her husband in that moment. She had known nothing, nothing, of this before he announced it, not even that he was thinking about betrothals. But that could wait; she had eyes only for her daughter.

Tya had stood up sharply, her chair giving a loud screech as she glared at her father with unveiled disdain. Lord Tytos clearly felt his daughter's eyes on him, as he turned to see her, wide smile faltering for a moment. Surely even he couldn't mistake the look on her face for anything less than what it was; fury. Jeyne was soon proven wrong, however.

"Now, now," He clapped his hands good-naturedly nonetheless, and it took far too long for the hall to fall into a restless quiet. "My dear daughter wishes to speak," 

Oh, you fool. Jeyne certainly wasn't going to help him out of this one, which he'd walked himself into.

"That had better be a jape," The cold words sounded jarring coming from the pretty ten-year-old, and caught the attention of the hall immediately. Silence fell. Tytos opened his mouth to protest, but Tya cut him off. "You've betrothed me to a Frey? You'd give your firstborn child, a lady of Casterly Rock, to the second son of the Lord of the Crossing?"

There was a mocking, incredulous note to her voice that made most everyone present marvel at her nerve. Tya, of course, knew that there would be no repercussions from her father over daring to speak out so rudely. Kevan and Genna were watching their sister with wide, concerned eyes. Cousin Jason was snickering openly.

"Well Tya, Lord Frey asked very courteously, and it would have been most insulting to have refused him,"

"He asked courteously?" Tya raised an eyebrow. "Is that all it takes now? Should Genna fear being betrothed to the son of that kennel-master knight you gave a keep to, if he asks nicely enough? Will the next Lady Lannister be the first kitchen maid to ask for Kevan's hand? When did the lions of the Rock start to fear insulting a weasel-faced Frey?"

There was a lot of disgruntled grumbling from the Freys at that.

"Now Tya, you really should be more polite, you know," Tytos' tone was merely reproachful, hurt rather than angry. "This really isn't the time,"

She didn't even respond to that, aside from a withering look of disgust and anger at her father. The ten-year-old left the hall, wide eyes and open mouths following her. She didn't look back, even as her father called her to return to the table. Jeyne smiled in cruel amusement, though inside she was as angry as her daughter.

Over the last decade, Tya had grown from a tiny babe into a tall, slender young girl. She was very pretty and would surely grow into a beauty, but her mouth was most often found set in a straight line, which gave her face a rather hard and stern expression. She didn't smile often and her laughs were even rarer. Her hair was long and golden but usually worn up in relatively simple braided styles to keep it out of her face, though the braids she wore for this feast were complex and regal-looking.

Her eyes were unique. Lannister green, but flecked with gold. Hard eyes, for a girl of ten.

Even Jeyne had to admit that with her intense stare Tya was rather intimidating for such a young child. The girl had never thrown tantrums even as a toddler, but simply went quiet and glared. When told not to do something she wanted to, Tya did not argue, simply watched impassively and unimpressed then went and did it anyway if she thought it worth it, not caring for the reprimands of her maids and later on her septa no matter how they shouted. Even her father she didn't listen to, though that was hardly surprising as Tytos was more likely to either laugh or look wounded and hurt himself.

Jeyne was the only one who could give her a proper telling off and have her look remotely ashamed; she was also the only one who could get her to apologise.

Tytos mentioned to her that he was rather concerned at their eldest daughter's behaviour, wondering if it was normal for a young lady to be so... wilful. Jeyne had told him that if Kevan was acting in such a way, everyone would be talking about what a good, strong lord he'd be. It was only because Tya was a girl that it was odd. And that was the end of the matter as far as she was concerned.

Her daughter had always seemed older than her years. She had played with toys and dolls once, of course - pretended they were kings and queens (she would always be the king, Kevan or Genna the queen) - but had deemed that too childish aged seven, and resolutely refused to touch any of them, giving all her toys to her sister.

Now she spent much of her time reading. Not romantic stories like Florian and Jonquil that young girls normally loved, but dense books on subjects such as history, politics and warfare. Jeyne questioned her about it, only to receive the rather blunt reply of, 'the maester wouldn't teach me, so I have to find out on my own'.

From then on she made the request to Maester Norgrove that her children be taught more of such matters, even the girls, though Tya was still often found poring over other such books in her spare time. Jeyne also resolved to teach her daughter everything she knew about politics and the ways people behaved, recognising a sharp mind when she saw one, and that could not be allowed to go to waste.

It wasn't like Tya was unladylike. Though she was hardly charming, she was faultlessly polite when she wished to make a good impression, restrained in her manner and clearly highly intelligent. She learned to dance well, even though she didn't enjoy it, and despite having little patience for needlework she could sew and embroider passably. She flatly refused to learn to sing but was a more than capable horsewoman and enjoyed hawking, and showed a great talent for sums and running a household.

Most people had never met a child whose very presence demanded so much respect. It was hard to talk down to Tya, with that stare of hers and her rather intimidating manner. She could make grown men feel like fools, by being more well-read, keeping her composure much better and having an alarmingly sharp tongue. Anyone trying to patronise her was subjected to all three.

Jeyne thought of the Frey boy, fourteen and cocky despite his plain looks and no particular skill at arms, no doubt extremely smug at being betrothed to Tytos Lannister's eldest daughter.

Tya would destroy him.

*

Jeyne was present for the audience the next day; she, Tytos and Tya were to meet with Emmon Frey and his father, the awful Lord Walder. Despite her disdain, part of her was rather looking forward to it, in a vicious kind of way. Never mind her daughter; Lady Lannister would not hold back one bit. She hadn't held back in berating her husband last night, though as always Tytos had simply acted wounded for a while then shaken her words off like water from a duck's back.

"Lord Walder, and dear Emmon," He beamed as the door to the solar opened, getting to his feet. 

Jeyne was already stood behind his chair, a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Lord Tytos," Walder Frey walked into the room wearing a smug smile, looking for all the world like he owned the place. "Lady Jeyne. And lovely Tya," He turned to her daughter, rubbing his hands together in almost comedic glee.

"Lady Tya," The girl corrected coldly, not bothering with courtesies though she knew them well. 

Lord Walder was known to be a prickly man, easily taking offence at the smallest slight. Sure enough, he bristled at her words though forced himself to remain calm, smiling a sickly smile.

"Your daughter is pretty, my lord," His smile turned lecherous. "No doubt she'll be a beauty in a few years. Lucky you, eh Emmon?" He clapped his ugly son on the back with a laugh, and the boy smiled weakly, though was casting rather anxious looks at his new betrothed. 

No wonder; Tya was staring him down, stare unflinching.

"Enough," Jeyne was furious. "Tya is ten, Lord Walder, and a member of House Lannister. I'll thank you not to speak of her like you're picking out a girl at a brothel,"

"Heh," Walder laughed but his beady eyes narrowed. "Your wife has a mouth on her, Tytos," 

Oh, Jeyne could've slapped him for that, and Tya likely felt the same, but her husband stepped in first, appearing stressed by the turn of events.

"Yes, yes, perhaps we should all take a seat?" He said hastily. 

Coward. But where Jeyne was prepared to grimace and bear it, laying into her husband in private later on, her daughter did not.

"He just insulted Mother," Tya turned to her father. "Are you just going to sit down and ignore it?" Tytos blustered for enough time that she cut him off, turning to Lord Walder. "You can't speak about Lady Lannister like that, whether I'm supposed to marry your weed of a son or not,"

"Tya!" Tytos protested feebly. "You're being rude,"

"You're being weak," The girl said flatly. "You're always weak. Especially when you agreed to marry me to this boy," She waved a dismissive hand at Emmon Frey, who truly looked scared of her by this point.

"I - I promise to do well by you, my lady," The boy stuttered as his father's eyes narrowed in fury.

Tya actually scoffed, glaring at him.

"You're the second son of a measly house in the Riverlands," She said with remarkable scorn for a ten-year-old. "I doubt you can keep that promise," She turned to her father, cutting off Walder Frey's angry reply. "I promise that if you marry me to a Frey, I will not stay married for very long,"

Now that was rather concerning, for Tytos at least. A threat, plain and simple. Jeyne had never been more proud.

Emmon Frey blanched, Tytos did too, and Walder Frey finally lost his temper, beginning to spit furious words at Jeyne's husband, who blustered apologetically despite the fact that it was hardly his place to be sorry, and this low lord should pay for daring to raise his voice to Lord Lannister.

Nonetheless, she placed her hand back on her daughter's shoulder, squeezing in approval and leading her out of the room as Lord Walder continued to rage. Tytos looked relieved. So did Emmon.

"Well, sweetling," Jeyne said as they left the lord's solar, her tone carefully even as the door shut on the chaos. "Your betrothed is now terrified of you, which is something, I suppose,"

"I'm a girl of ten," She said with disdain. "If he's scared of me, he truly is pathetic," She sounded rather pleased nonetheless, smiling slightly when Jeyne laughed.

"Don't worry," She said, pulling the girl into a one-armed hug. "I'll sort this mess out. You won't have to marry a Frey after I'm through talking with your father,"

"Thank you," She looked slightly relieved, always less guarded when she was around her mother.

"Who would you marry, if you had the choice?" Jeyne asked out of curiosity. "Politics aside,"

Her daughter considered this.

"A high lord," She said. "Or a king. One who let me take charge of everything in private,"

"The Stark heir is unmarried," 

"I wouldn't want to waste away in the North," She sneered.

"A shame that Steffon Baratheon is betrothed already," Jeyne mused. "Lord Arryn is married too, though he's a bit older. Dorne has a princess. Luthor Tyrell is not even betrothed, however. Neither is Prince Aerys, though he'll likely marry his sister," She raised an eyebrow and Tya didn't protest. "I'll see what I can do about your father,"

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

There had been a punishment, of sorts, for the way Tya had stood up to her father and humiliated him in front of all his bannermen (not that he needed any help with that), and the rude way she spoke to Lord Walder and his son afterwards.

Well... Either Lord Tytos truly thought it a punishment for her to be sent away from home to King's Landing to be a cupbearer to King Aegon and companion to Princess Rhaella, or perhaps he just wanted her out of sight, out of mind, in order to assuage his guilt at betrothing her to a Frey. The latter seemed more likely, Tya thought scornfully. He didn't have the stomach to truly punish her for anything.

She did miss Casterly Rock a little, though she'd never admit it. She missed Mother, Kevan, Genna, even baby Tyg. She missed everyone knowing who she was and obeying without question. She missed the vast grandness of the castle and knowing it all belonged to her family, missed the sunset over the sea to the west. She even missed arguing and fighting with her awful cousin Jason, though she still loathed his irritating quips and how he went out of his way to anger her.

She did not miss Father. Not one bit.

But the Red Keep was hardly a punishment. King's Landing was the best place she could've been sent. Tya would've had to leave home at some point anyway, to marry that wretched Frey boy. Her lip curled at the thought; people here had learned quickly not to mention her betrothed anywhere she could hear.

She normally disliked girls her own age, though the only ones Tya had spent any time with were the daughters of lords of the Westerlands, sent to Casterly Rock by their fathers to be her companion, generally in the hope that one of them would catch Kevan's eye and become the next Lady Lannister. A bunch of silly hens, all of them, twittering about dolls and dresses and planning their future weddings. But they tended to obey her without question, either out of admiration (or rather - trying to lick the boots of the eldest Lannister daughter) or fear.

She could not order around the princess, however, she knew that well enough. Tya was used to being the most important person in the room when among anyone her own age, but here that was Rhaella Targaryen.

The princess was a shy and quiet girl, two years younger than she was, but did not seem entirely stupid. She liked to read, liked to watch plays and did not like her brother (which was unfortunate, seeing as they were likely to marry). Rhaella wasn't insufferable like the others, and though she was not nearly as bold as Tya was, she did tend to feel a similar way about the foolishness of most of the people around them, chuckling quietly when Tya made sharp remarks and never even trying to order her around.

Though rather reserved at first, Rhaella also did not seem intimidated by her, which was remarkable in itself. Most of the others either fawned over her like fools or shrank away from her every word, both of which managed to come across as pathetic. Rhaella was not like that at all - she was instead quiet, calm and measured - which was perhaps why they got along.

Her brother Aerys was the same age as Tya, and couldn't have been more different to his sister. Within ten minutes of meeting the boy, she had him summed up in her head; charming, charismatic and generous but not all that bright and very vain. He was rather changeable too, quick to laugh but equally quick to anger. Where Rhaella liked to read quietly, sew and even draw sketches with her graphite pen, Aerys liked large groups of people, dancing and music.

The young prince, who would one day be king, disdained his sister for this reason, claiming she was dull and boring. Rhaella clearly preferred it that way, as it meant he left her alone and didn't disturb her peace and quiet. This meant that Tya did not have a proper conversation with the prince for some time, only brief greetings; he mostly disdained Rhaella's friends, which irked her somewhat, not used to be treated as such.

It wasn't until after she had been unable to restrain herself and sharply snapped at him on one of the rare occasions he was bored enough to bother his sister that he showed any interest in her at all.

Instead of throwing a princely tantrum and having her punished, to her surprise Aerys just laughed.

"You're not like her other little sheep," He positively beamed.

"I'm a lion," She replied coldly. "Not a sheep. I thought that was obvious,"

"Well I'm a dragon and I eat them both," The boy said, and she remembered why Rhaella didn't like him.

"Casterly Rock has two lions," She said, raising an eyebrow. "Where are your dragons? Your Grace," She added the title just long enough afterwards to irk him, but not long enough to object to.

"I'll show you the dragons. They're under the castle," Before Tya could blink, Aerys had grabbed her arm and was pulling her out the door. 

She snatched her arm away.

"No you won't," She glared at him. "You might be a prince, but don't manhandle me like that again," If anything that seemed to encourage him, making him grin wider.

"I like you," He said that like he was bestowing upon her the world's greatest gift. "You're very pretty," She knew that already, and raised an eyebrow. And? "I think I'd like to marry you more than Rhaella,"

Well that was something completely different now, wasn't it?

"I'd marry you," She gave a short laugh, surprised. If it meant that she'd be queen, she'd marry anyone. There hadn't ever been a Lannister queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Honestly, at this point she would rather marry any landed knight who asked for her hand rather than Emmon Frey; at least he would have his own castle. "Though I doubt your father would allow it. He seems rather set on you wedding your sister,"

"I'll talk to him," The boy waved a hand. 

Tya shrugged, not believing anything would come of this despite Aerys' conviction. And given how quickly he had taken to her, it would not be too long before he had found someone else he was desperate to marry. But who knows - if this worked out, she would be queen, she was hardly going to discourage him no matter how unlikely it was.

"I'm also betrothed," She added. His eyes widened.

"To who?"

"Emmon Frey," Her lip curled in disgust. "He's a second son,"

"Frey..." He paused, thinking hard. She was right in her assessment that he wouldn't be the brightest king Westeros had ever had. "Oh! You don't mean the ones with the bridge?" She nodded, once, and he looked outraged. "What was your father thinking? You're a Lannister, they're - nothing. A second son?"

"Unfortunately," Her anger rose every time she thought of it. At first she had foolishly held out hope that her father would break the betrothal after her mother had worn him down enough, but that had not happened. Tya was genuinely considering getting her hands on some discreet poison.

"Well, I'll talk to my father," Aerys said decisively. "Grandfather doesn't want me to marry Rhaella anyway,"

Nothing came of that, of course. King Aegon did mention the matter to her at the next meal she served him at, seeming approving; he liked Tya, and the fact she did a good job as his cupbearer, and she couldn't have been from a more highborn family. Nonetheless, his son Jaehaerys (Aerys' father) stubbornly insisted on his two children marrying each other. He had married his sister Shaera in secret against his parents' wishes, managing to anger both of the great houses they were betrothed to.

Foolish, Tya thought. If the Targaryens kept marrying inward, they would have few blood allies to fall back on for help if they ever needed it.

Despite his annoyance at the fact he was not permitted to marry her, Aerys did stick around her long afterwards, surprising her by not getting bored and going to bother someone else. Tya didn't particularly enjoy his company, but he wasn't unbearable, and she knew how valuable it could be to be friends with the future king as well as his queen. No doubt it would pay off in the future.

*

255 AC

It was King Aegon who told her. She spent rather a lot of time with him, serving him at every other meal (his other cupbearer did the rest), and he seemed rather fond of her despite her often blunt and stern manner, and her disdain for many of the courtiers (which he seemed to share). She did her job perfectly, of course, so perhaps that was why he liked her.

Her mother had died after birthing her youngest brother Gerion.

The king delivered the news kindly. He was a kind man, but not foolish in the way that father was. Even so, his kindness had got the better of him, with the disastrous marriages most of his children had made, and how his reforms giving the smallfolk more rights angered many of the lords.

Tya didn't cry in front of him, of course not. She was silent for a long moment, even briefly looking down at her hands folded in front of her, something she never did. Her knuckles were white. Then she looked back up.

"Thank you for telling me, your Grace. May I be excused?"

"Of course," The king nodded, eyes sad and sympathetic. "Go to Rhaella if you wish for some comfort, Tya. She's a kind girl,"

"She is," Tya agreed, swallowing the lump in her throat and knowing that she would choose to be alone for the rest of the evening. "Goodnight, your Grace,"

She curtseyed and left without another word, heading straight for her bedchamber. She sent her maid away, the door closed, and she sat down on the bed, feeling rather like this wasn't real. Her mother was dead. The same woman who sang to her as a child, told her stories, answered all her questions, taught her about politics and men, who was clever and brave and strong unlike Father, was dead.

A tear broke free, and then it was like the floodgates opened.

Tya hadn't wept like that in years. Ever, even. She was more likely to get angry at things than sad, such as when her father had betrothed her to a Frey. Most things regarding her father made her angry, but didn't make her cry; how men took advantage and laughed at him behind his back, how he forgave too easily and granted favours left and right. The mean things other girls said never bothered her; she made sure they'd never say such things again, there was no way she would let them mock her like people mocked her father. Even when falling off a horse and hurting herself badly, she had refused to show any weakness.

Lions don't cry, her mother had told her years ago. Tya always told herself the same thing whenever the urge to weep arose, which always worked, though those words only made her cry harder now.

This was different to all those other times. The whole world had changed. Her mother was gone. She would never see her again. The only person Tya was willing to let hug her save perhaps Genna, gone. And any hope of her father being persuaded out of the Frey marriage was well and truly gone.

There was a knock at her door, likely one of the guards. She raised her head with wild eyes, eyes she knew were red and puffy, her hair come loose from its braid and soggy with tears. She looked far from her usual put-together self. No one was going to see her like this.

"Leave," She demanded, forcing her force to remain level. "Whatever it is, I don't want to be disturbed," There was some murmuring outside the door, then the handle started to turn. "I said leave!" She got to her feet, furious that they would disobey her and panicked that anyone, even a common guardsman, would see her in such a state. "Get out, or I'll - "

Aerys Targaryen stood at the door. No wonder the guards had let him in. The usually smiling boy was unusually solemn. That didn't mean she wanted him there any more than she had done before.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother. Is there anything I can do to help?" He looked rather surprised at the state she was in, hesitating. "I've never seen you cry," He trailed off at the mutinous look on her face.

"Get out," She said, voice quiet and dangerous.

"Tya, I just - "

"Get. Out," She repeated. "Now," 

A flash of anger crossed his expression.

"You can't tell me to leave! I'm a prince. This is my castle, I'll stay if I want to," She moved towards him, seizing his arm in an iron grip that he couldn't free himself from, even as he struggled, leading him over to the door. "What are you - how dare you - let me go. I'm a prince!"

"Prince or not, I told you to leave," She said, mouth a thin line, ignoring the startled and rather concerned expressions on the faces of her two guards. "Now go," She slammed the door in his face and locked it.

She heard him punch the door, rage a little at the guards then thankfully storm off. Only then did Tya return to her bed, fresh tears falling from her eyes.

*

By the time Tya was thirteen, Aerys was twelve and even then it was obvious he desired her.

The prince clearly wasn't used to anyone refusing him anything, so obviously Tya - who refused him all the time - caught his interest. She didn't mind his company a lot of the time, but had no patience for his quick temper and did not indulge any such tantrums, or his frequent odd whims. She made it clear she was here as King Aegon's cupbearer and as Rhaella's companion, not the prince's.

"I heard him talking about you with his friends," Rhaella told her once. "Saying all sorts of crude things,"

"He's twelve," Tya had replied flatly. "I doubt he knows what most of those things mean. Apologies if it offended you, princess," She was careful to remember that Aerys was Rhaella's betrothed, and did nothing to encourage the prince's attentions seeing as they were never going to wed.

"Rather you than me, Tya," The princess gave a slight laugh, shaking her head. "At least he listens to you when you tell him off. He just laughs in my face whenever I try,"

Tya smiled slightly at that.

"He listens to me sometimes," She granted.

She did tell Aerys off for the crude comments though, genuinely irritated by it all.

"I'm not some serving wench to gawp over and heckle," She said, glaring at the prince, whom she was still taller than by a good inch or two.

Aerys had the decency to look slightly abashed.

"Cousin Steffon was boasting about his betrothed, that Estermont girl," He said. "Saying how she's the greatest beauty in the realm. So I thought I'd use you to beat him, as no one girl could outshine you,"

That was... surprisingly sweet. A shame she would only ever find sentiments like that sickening. Not to mention she knew for a fact that that wasn't all he had said, and it hadn't been nearly so innocent.

"Don't think flattery will excuse your crude words," She said. "If I hear you saying such things about me again, I will have Rhaella start telling the other ladies how she mistakenly walked in on you in the bathtub and saw how small your manhood is," She was rather tempted to do so anyway, to bring him down a peg or two.

"You wouldn't!" Aerys' gaped at her, outraged. "No one would believe you,"

"All the ladies would," She smiled faintly. "And everyone likes to believe something that amuses them. Besides, Rhaella never lies,"

"Fine," He said sulkily. "I won't talk about you like that again. Never mind that I was paying you compliments the whole time,"

"Compliment the next whore you see on the street," Tya said flatly. "Not a daughter of House Lannister,"

*

Her father came to King's Landing to visit later that year, bringing with him all of her siblings along with cousins Stafford and Jason. She regretted that she hadn't seen them all sooner, but there was no time for her to travel all the way to Casterly Rock in time for her mother's funeral, so it had been over a year.

Kevan greeted her with a small smile, glad to see her once more. Her sister Genna, now ten, threw herself into Tya's arms, not minding how stiffly she returned the embrace. Tygett, five years old, had clearly had a growth spurt and his attempt at a bow made her lips twitch.

Little Gerion was a babe in his nursemaid's arms. He was a friendly little thing, with a big smile and locks of golden hair like the rest of them, and she was glad to meet him even if she couldn't quite get it out of her head that she would rather Mother was here than him.

Having passed over Stafford with a cold greeting, she got to Jason, who smirked at her in the irritating way she remembered.

"You've grown," He said. So had he, slightly taller than she was now, despite being a year younger, and actually had muscles from training in the yard. He had never been particularly gifted with a sword, preferring a longbow, but from what she remembered he was not bad at it. "Why, you look just like a spider, or a leggy colt,"

Tya scowled.

"Do you ever tire of making stupid, childish remarks?" Normally sounding cold and haughty was second nature to her, but now she had to work to keep the frustration from her tone.

"Not when your reaction amuses me so," His smile was sly, and she make a noise of disgust, moving on.

"I don't like the way you look at him," Aerys complained to her later, lounging on a nearby chaise while she read at the desk and Rhaella sat sketching in the window seat. "Your cousin - not the fat one,"

"How do I look at him?" She raised an eyebrow, barely glancing up. "And why do you care?" 

They had long since stopped bothering with titles.

"You look at him like - like you're a normal girl," He clearly struggled to find the words. Her eyebrow raised higher. "Well, you look at everyone else like they're beneath your notice!"

"I look at Jason like he's a slug on my shoe," She replied, but then a thought occured to her. "Are you annoyed because you've learnt there's someone who irritates me more than you do?" Her lips twitched.

Aerys opened his mouth indignantly, then closed it again as he realised she was right.

"If your Frey children are born with Lannister gold hair and green eyes then we'll all know why," He said with a rather cruel smile. He tended to lash out when he knew someone had bested him, and was rather good at it.

"I won't have any Frey children," Tya said coldly, any trace of amusement gone. She knew that for a fact. Never mind the repulsive idea that she would lay with Jason; that other statement had offended her much more.

Something in her tone made even Aerys pause, as Rhaella looked up curiously.

"Surely your husband will expect you to do your duty at some point," The prince said.

"I'm sure he will," Tya was not at all pleased at that prospect.

"Then how - " Aerys started, but surprisingly Rhaella interrupted him, seeing her expression.

"Leave it be, brother," She suggested, and for once he listened, though cast a dirty look at his sister for daring to tell him what to do.

"I thought you were writing to your father to try and persuade him out of the match?" He asked instead.

"To no avail," Her lip curled. "Kevan says that he's taken up with a new mistress. A candlemaker's daughter from Lannisport, scarcely two years older than I am," Aerys snorted and Rhaella smiled regretfully. Tya did not. "He claims Father barely reads my letters, and if he does then that presumptuous whore is whispering poison in his ears to keep me away,"

"Remember her name," Aerys said. "A Lannister always pays their debts, as you like to say. Once your father tires of her, you'll be free to do as you wish with the whore," He laughed. "I wouldn't want to be in her shoes then,"

No, Aerys, you really wouldn't.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

256 AC

A wedding was a joyous occasion, all agreed. Even if the bride's face was like thunder the whole day.

Tya felt nothing but disdain towards her soon-to-be husband. Emmon Frey couldn't have weighed more than ten stone, a weed in silk and satin. He was a man of eight-and-ten, four years older than she was, but nervous, twitchy and sullen, especially around her.

That he was scared of her was a good thing, she supposed. Better that than the other way around. She had learned that morning that Emmon was so anxious around her that her father had weakly made the suggestion of betrothing him to Genna instead, only for Lord Walder to be insistent that his son marry the eldest daughter. On your head be it.

She had spent the morning being prepared for the ceremony by Rhaella and a few other ladies, though the princess was the only one of them she deigned to speak to. Genna was there as well, making constant snide jests about Emmon and his family, but Tya was hardly going to smile that morning.

Her mother was not there of course. Part of her was almost glad for it, that she wouldn't have to see her eldest daughter married to a Frey.

Tya was very surprised when, after everyone else had left at her request for a minute alone before they had to go downstairs, her cousin Jason entered the room with a strange look on his face.

"Have you come to gloat?" She turned to glare at him as he came to stand beside her.

"Yes," He replied, though didn't seem eager to. He had only ever laughed at her expense whenever her betrothal was brought up, but now even his sly smile was gone. "You look... nice," 

Tya raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic compliment. Although she would admit that she did look nice, as she stared at herself in the looking glass. She looked powerful. Her dress was red and gold, her hair braided atop her head. Yet the jewels she wore were her own, not her mother's, much to her anger. Her mother's jewels were back at Casterly Rock, around the neck of her father's little mistress.

Her eyes darkened at the thought of the girl. A candlemaker's daughter who thought herself a princess the way she ordered around the servants and whispered poison in her father's ears about Tya. Her father hadn't even protested when the whore put her thieving paws all over Lady Jeyne's jewels.

"That doesn't matter," She replied to her cousin. Because it didn't. No matter how nice she looked, her father would still give her away to a Frey. "Shouldn't you be downstairs?" Her tone lacked its usual venom.

"Yes," He said again, then all his words seemed to come out at once. "You shouldn't be marrying a Frey. I'm sure you'll make his life hell,"

She actually smiled faintly at that, perhaps the first time he'd made her do so other than out of spite or vindication.

"Only for a short time," 

His eyes widened; gods, she'd hoped he wouldn't catch her true meaning. Then his face lit up wickedly.

"Truly?" 

Tya grimaced slightly at the idea of admitting it, to him of all people, but he knew already. She nodded. Her cousin laughed.

"You always were a vicious bitch," He said, and without thinking, she went to elbow him in the ribs, as she would've done when they were little. He caught her arm, however, his reflexes quick from time in the training yard, and linked his own with hers tightly to stop her doing it again.

For whatever reason, she did not yank her arm away or make any kind of protest. Neither did he let go, instead just staring at them both in the mirror, her in her wedding dress. Both tall, golden and beautiful. 

He had to ruin it, of course, lips twisting in a grin.

"I will mock you for years to come, you know, that Emmon Frey will be the first man you kiss,"

What more could she do to that other than grab the back of his head and pull his lips to hers?

It wasn't exactly tender or sweet, more forceful and angry - both at him and her situation - but when she pulled back after a second or two, Jason pulled her in for another, slightly longer one.

When they broke apart, there was a wicked glint in his eye.

"Don't say a word," She warned. He did, of course.

"And you think I wouldn't mock you for that?"

"Oh, shut up," She pulled her arm out of his with a roll of her eyes; Tya always was more childish around him. "You tell anyone, and I'll kill you,"

"Emmon Frey will be the first person you lay with, as well,"

"Stop it!" She glared, moving to put on her rings that lay on the table, hating it when he laughed at her.

"Was that kiss out of spite or pride?" He asked.

"Both,"

"Of course," Jason laughed again, and despite herself, Tya smiled grudgingly. It didn't pass beneath her notice that he had managed to make her smile; something that most people struggled to do on a normal day, let alone one of the unhappiest days of her life. 

His grin faded at the sounds of hurried footsteps outside the room.

"I'll see you in the sept," He said in an odd tone. 

She said nothing, turning away with a stony face.

The wedding ceremony was tense. Tya spoke her vows mechanically, coldly, making it more than clear with every word that she resented this union with every bone in her body. She would normally be happy to do her duty for her family - and would not have raised a word of complaint if her betrothed had been respectable but old, ugly or fat - but this marriage to a lesser house was shaming the Lannisters more than anything else she could do.

She knew Jason was sat with the rest of her family but she didn't look in his direction.

Prince Aerys was sat in the front row with his sister and glowered the entire time, like a child moody because someone had deprived him of his favourite toy. He and Rhaella were the only Targaryens who had come to this dismal wedding at the Twins. King Aegon had intended to attend - joking that he had to try one last time to get his best cupbearer to stay - but had come down with a dreadful fever and was confined to his chambers.

Tya did not move forward in the slightest when the Septon had them kiss, giving her husband nothing but a cold stare, forcing him to move towards her, tilting his head rather awkwardly.

That same cold look remained on her face throughout the feast, as she glowered down at the entire hall from the high table. She refused to reply to her father with anything more than monosyllabic answers, eventually losing her patience when he asked if she was happy.

"Of course I'm not, you stupid man," She practically snarled, though didn't raise her voice.

Lord Tytos acted hurt for a while at that but soon forgot she was angry, brushing her aside to laugh with Lord Walder and his many other sons.

Nothing would move Tya out of the seat she sat in. Genna asked her to get up and dance, trying to take her mind off it, which she refused. Aerys did the same, and got the same response only sharper, which made him toss his hair like a scorned woman and seek out the second most beautiful young maiden in the room to dance with instead.

Rhaella came to sit with her then, making quiet conversation and trying not to act sympathetic as she knew she'd hate that; though it didn't lighten her mood, it made being here slightly more bearable. 

Jason, predictably, came over to annoy her with stupid remarks every half hour, which she responded to with her usual sharp replies and cold glares, though even her irritating cousin - who she had certainly not enjoyed kissing before the ceremony - was better conversation than her husband. 

Kevan spent hours glaring at Emmon Frey and their father in turn, and soon had little Tyg doing it too. After Genna whispered something in the boy's ear with a smirk, their rather fierce younger brother, only six years old, stomped up to her now-husband, who was chuckling lewdly with some other youths, and kicked him in the shins.

"Tygett!" Lord Tytos had been nearby and hurried over, looking horrified. "Why on earth would you do something so rude? Apologise to Ser Emmon - he's your goodbrother now," 

And didn't that just make her skin crawl.

"He was being rude about Tya," The boy protested, folding his arms and glaring up at the man. "And he's not my brother - I won't apologise to a weaselly Frey,"

He clearly had no more respect for their father than any of his siblings. Ordinarily, she would have told the boy off herself for the public scene he had caused with his misbehaviour, and sharply reprimanded Genna too, for putting him up to it. But seeing as that was the one thing that night that came close to making her smile, for once Tya let it go.

She herself said not a word to her husband the entire night. If he had spoken to her then she would have replied (curtly), but he did not, which was mildly amusing. She knew he was scared of her, no matter how he boasted of his pretty Lannister bride to the other boys. Even at fourteen, tall and skinny, she was near as tall as he was and had about the same amount of muscle.

Her goodfather, Walder Frey, was a repulsive old lecher who had been making lewd comments about her all evening, including many to her own father, who of course had simply pulled a face, said 'now really' in a reproachful tone and not gutted the man for his disrespect.

It was Lord Walder who made the call for the bedding ceremony. Tya hadn't been expecting that, given that it wasn't customary with brides as young as she was, and she hated how her stomach dropped. She didn't get nervous, ever. A glance to her side showed that her brother's face had darkened, and surprisingly so had Jason's.

Her father made a noise of protest against the ceremony, as Emmon Frey was carried from the room by a hoarse of giggling ladies, only to be talked back down into his seat by the slimy Lord Frey like the weak-minded fool he was.

That was it, that was truly it. She had had enough.

Tya rose sharply from her chair as a horde of eager Frey sons and knights got to their feet and turned to her.

"Touch me and you lose a hand," She said coldly, perfectly serious. Everyone hesitated at the venom in her voice, glancing at each other. She made to sweep out of the room there and then, alone, and probably could've done too had one cursed Frey not spoken up when she was nearly out the door.

"By what power, my lady?" The wretch chuckled.

It struck her then that she didn't know, and that was the worst thing of all. Her father wouldn't stop it. Lord Walder certainly would not. She had no men of her own. Her only friends here were younger than she was.

There were a few more chuckles around the room, which made her skin crawl and her temper rise. She despised being laughed at. For once, Tya Lannister - Lannister, never Frey - had nothing to say.

"Mine," She looked sharply over to Aerys as he swaggered through the crowd. "No one touches Lady Lannister, or her threat will be followed through,"

No doubt he wanted her to lavish affection on him in exchange for the rescue, however the fact she had needed rescuing in the first place made her scowl. Nonetheless, Tya supposed she should show some level of gratitude, given that he might come in useful on another occasion.

She took the prince's outstretched arm, as he led her from the room, to a lot of disgruntled grumbling from the male Freys. But no one argued with the charming yet famously mercurial Targaryen.

No doubt there would be whispers later as to why on earth Tytos Lannister hadn't married his daughter to the dashing young prince that clearly cared for her. She was wondering the same thing. Aerys was foolish and often irritated her, but he wasn't unbearable, actually good company at times. And she'd be queen one day, instead of wife of the second son of the Lord of the Crossing, which would make everything worth it. She knew that King Aegon had spoken to his son, encouraging him to marry Aerys to Tya rather than Rhaella, but Jaehaerys was stubborn.

Tya ignored the muttering about her, ignored the crude comments and stares. Tonight would be an ordeal, but she would get through it. She would never let go of her pride, however. She might be a Frey by marriage, but she would always be a Lannister in truth.

Though if she had her way, she wouldn't even be a Frey by marriage for very long.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

257 AC

It was not even a year after her wedding that Tya Lannister's husband died.

What a tragedy, women said with concern, sending sympathetic looks her way. She's so young... imagine being a widow at fifteen, with not even a child to console her over her husband's death.

As it turned out, being a widow at fifteen made Tya feel better than she had done in a long while, as those who knew her could tell. She had been at Casterly Rock for four months - having been unable to take any more of life at the Twins - when she received the news. It was delivered by a messenger who had clearly expected to be greeted by a sobbing, grief-stricken young woman and did not know what to do with her.

"It was murder, milady," The man said solemnly. "He and his two companions were found in the woods, robbed of all valuables. Bandits, no doubt - they get bolder every year. All were dead when we got there, and... No, you don't want to hear the rest,"

"Tell me," She ordered, raising an eyebrow at his hesitation. "Go on, I won't faint,"

"Ser Emmon's throat was slit from ear to ear," The messenger grimaced. "Likely the outlaws realised too late he was from a noble house and didn't want him seeing their faces and sending men after them. Apologies, milady,"

He gave her an odd look as a smile crept onto her face.

"Perhaps the next husband my father forces upon me will be man enough to fight off a few common wretches,"

Those words and that smile quickly spread and became infamous across the Seven Kingdoms. Tya might have been ill-advised in saying something so callous so soon after her husband's death, but honestly could not care less what anyone said. 

Let them suspect her of murder if they liked; she was a hundred leagues away in Casterly Rock when the incident occurred, and how could they blame an ambush by bandits on a young lady like her? As if she'd know the first thing about plotting a murder, let alone where to find such unsavoury types to do it.

It was a good thing that the two men she had entrusted the job to were discreet, members of her personal guard whose loyalty could be relied upon, considering how much she had paid them.

She didn't go to the funeral. She never even went back to the Twins, simply ordered her possessions brought back to Casterly Rock, then set off for King's Landing once more.

"Congratulations, Lady Lannister," Was the first thing Jason asked her when she returned to the Red Keep, grinning. "On being rid of that weasel. He was below you in every possible way," He had met her in the courtyard as she rode in. 

She raised an eyebrow at the formal address, even though she was pleased by his use of her widowed name. Every time someone called her Lady Frey she had strongly corrected them, no matter how many times her former husband's family riled at it

Tya couldn't help but smile slightly at that, though she normally disdained both compliments and her cousin, taking his offered arm. She wore gold that day. She had worn not a single black garment since word reached her of Emmon's death. Of course, no one could know what she had done, but it was nice to receive a little credit.

"As are you," Was her only reply, though it was delivered without much bite to it. 

His grin only grew. Strange boy.

Her cousin had gone to King's Landing shortly after her wedding, to squire for Ser Godfrey, master-at-arms at the Red Keep. By all accounts, he had made friends with Aerys in her absence. Tya could understand why; she had to admit that Jason was witty and sharp-tongued, which would amuse the prince, and irreverent enough to catch his interest.

Sure enough, Aerys soon came out to greet her. After the formalities, his eyes lingered on the arm she still had linked with her cousin.

"Ah yes, I forget you two were so close," He smiled charmingly as ever, though there was a slight edge to it. 

"Hardly," Jason wrinkled his nose, with a glance at her like she smelled unpleasant. "I was just being polite - my cousin is recently widowed, after all,"

"Yes, I'm still in mourning," Tya removed her arm from his, tone flat. "Both for my husband, and the fact I now have to put up with your presence," From another lady, that might have been said in a joking, teasing manner. From her, she sounded like she meant it.

"Marriage hasn't made you any sweeter, my lady,"

"Squiring hasn't made you any less of an annoyance,"

Aerys laughed.

"I thought you couldn't disdain anyone any more than you disdain me," He smirked at her, clearly about to say more, but was interupted by a Knight of the Kingsguard. 

"Your grandfather wishes to see you in his solar, my prince,"

"Really?" The prince frowned, irritated. "I don't suppose it's optional?" The knight shook his head. "Fine. Well you must join us for dinner tonight, Tya. Yourself and your cousin, along with me and Rhaella,"

"Of course," She inclined her head, not looking forward to the meal at all.

"Then I'll see you later, my lady," Aerys gave her a rather long kiss on her hand before leaving with a swagger in his step. The knight followed.

She raised an eyebrow after the prince; did he think he was charming her? Becoming a widow had made her no sweeter or easily impressed.

"Watch out for that one," Jason's sly smile didn't leave his face, although his eyes became slightly harder. "He talks of you far too frequently. If he could, he'd have his sister as his queen like a proper Targaryen, and you as his mistress," 

Gone were the days when he wanted Tya as queen then, which was the least she would settle for from him. Mistress. As if she would lower herself such.

"It's all talk," She said, though was angered nonetheless by the disrespect. "I can handle Aerys, besides. Don't act the knight in shining armour - it doesn't suit you,"

"As if I would bother for you," He laughed at her, making Tya scowl more than the comment. Although when he offered his arm, she took it. They set off towards the gardens.

"As if you could," She replied scornfully. "I'd be surpised if you could even beat Aerys with a sword,"

"You could beat Aerys with a sword," He snorted. "The prince's talents lie outside the training yard. I'll grant you, he's better than me at dancing, commissioning plays and charming women, but even my mediocre skill with a sword could have him on the ground,"

"Aerys is better than you at charming women," That amused her. "Have you finally found that young ladies mislike foolish japes and insults?"

"Young ladies, perhaps," He eyes her with that sly smile. "Serving maids and tavern wenches in the city, on the other hand..."

Tya hated herself for the flash of anger that gripped her at that, forcing it not to show.

"As if I wish to hear of things like that," She wore a face of mild disgust.

"Don't act as though you're a blushing maid," He laughed, then echoed her words from earlier. "It doesn't suit you," 

"I never blushed," She said flatly. "I heard him tell his brothers I was unnerving to lay with,"

She made no effort to make the nights when her husband crawled into her bed enjoyable for him. The mocking from his brothers and cousins every time he stopped laying with her for a long period of time clearly outweighed his fear of her, though. Fool.

Her cousin laughed loudly at her words.

"I bet that glare never left your face," Jason shook his head, amused. He was right about that. "The least you could have done for the poor man was wear a mourning gown,"

"I wore every shade under the sun at the Twins, aside from their colours," She pressed her lips together. "Today I wondered what colour appeared furthest from grief, and arrived at this," She waved a hand at her gold dress. 

"Well you're the most radiant young widow I've ever seen,"

Everyone in their right mind had learned not to compliment her like that, as she would meet most with her usual cold stare and a raised eyebrow. Jason got both of those things, but smiled remarkably sincerely nonetheless, and she was surprised how little annoyance she felt.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

Aerys and Rhaella had been eventually been married at their parents' insistence, despite the wishes of their grandfather and Rhaella herself. Aerys, however, had seemed to have come to the conclusion that he needed a 'pure' Valyrian bride as fit a proper Targaryen future king, even though he was not necessarily attracted to his sister.

Predictably, there was no fondness between the siblings on their wedding day. Rhaella was only fourteen, the same as Tya had been when she married Emmon Frey, and was rather frightened about it all. To Tya's surprise, the princess had come to her and hesitantly asked what bedding a man was like, as her mother had simply told her to lie back and do her duty.

"It hurts the first time," She had said bluntly, and the girl had blanched. "Then after that it's just a little uncomfortable," In an unusual display of kindness she spared her friend the truth, that it hurt every single time and she had despised every degrading minute of her unworthy husband rutting and grunting on top of her.

"You were right," Rhaella told her the morning after the wedding, wincing as she sat down. "It did hurt,"

"Didn't he care for your comfort at all?" Tya frowned. "He's your... brother after all," The practices of the Targaryens would never cease to be strange, but surely he cared enough for his sister to try to not hurt her.

"You know Aerys," The princess gave a rather strained smile. "When does he take care with anything?"

She wished she could say she was surprised.

Rhaella had become pregnant within months and was glad for it seeing as it meant Aerys no longer visited her chambers trying to get an heir on her.

"You realise he's down on the Street of Silk every night bedding whores with my fool cousin and his other little friends?" Tya asked her, not wanting the princess to be kept in the dark about something that was her right to know about. Aerys told her of such excursions with relish, seeming to think he was making her jealous, but she doubted he told his sister the same things.

"I truly don't care," Rhaella replied honestly. "So long as he's not fathering Blackfyres all over King's Landing, he can do what he likes if it keeps him away from me,"

That was fair enough, she supposed.

*

King Aegon died in 259AC, the result of the tragedy of Summerhall. The fire claimed many other lives including Prince Duncan, his wife Jenny of Oldstones, Ser Duncan the Tall of the Kingsguard and very nearly the pregnant Princess Rhaella. Ser Duncan had carried her out of the burning palace before heading back inside presumably to rescue other royals, and had never made it out again.

Rhaella had given birth to her son Rhaegar there on the lawn, screaming in pain as her family died in the inferno behind her. Since then, despite the violent circumstances of his birth, Rhaegar had grown into a robust boy of a year old. He was a quiet baby, calm and well behaved, which Tya appreciated as the princess often had the child with her whenever they met. Motherhood suited her friend, and she cooed over the little prince in a way Tya could never imagine doing herself.

Aerys and Rhaella's father had ascended to the throne after Aegon's death. King Jaehaerys II was a clever and amiable man, but rather weak-looking and sickly. For this reason, when the Fifth Blackfyre Rebellion - which was fast becoming known as the War of the Ninepenny Kings - broke out on the Stepstones, he did not lead his men to battle, trusting the command of his army to his Hand and goodbrother, Lord Ormund Baratheon.

Aerys went to war too, of course; though he was not the best with a sword, he would be surrounded by the Kingsguard at all times and the actual risk would be very low. Jason was going with him, and Tya found herself fearing for him a lot more than the prince, though she would vehemently deny worrying at all. Her cousin had been a knight for a year now; hopefully he would find it in himself to look out for Kevan, who was a year younger and as yet unknighted.

Blocking all thoughts of her cousin and younger brother battling sellswords and pretenders on the Stepstones, Tya distracted herself very effectively during her time in the Red Keep, which was rather subdued now a large proportion of the men had gone to war.

Much of her time was spent studying the war closely; what strategies were used and how they were effective, the politics behind the battlefields, even the logistics of keeping an army together. It was fascinating, and she found she had a gift for predicting which strategies would work or not before word reached the city of the outcome of each battle.

Helping her with her studies was the new Grand Maester, a middle-aged man named Pycelle who seemed delighted by a young woman being so interested in matters that usually concerned knights and lords. Though often unintentionally patronising, he was eager to share with her his knowledge on the matters at hand, as well as (rather usefully) the goings-on in the Small Council.

Befriending Pycelle turned out to be worth its weight in gold. It only took a small suggestion from her to have him agreeing to take her to Small Council meetings as his scribe and note-taker, claiming he wished to make records of what went on, something the studious and academic King Jaehaerys was in support of.

Sat quietly in the corner with her quill and parchment, none of the other members noticed Tya's presence past the first meeting, and she was able to fully observe first-hand the trials and woeful incompetencies that went on there. Until that point, she was simply hearing about her father's failures in the west from Kevan's letters, and writing to tell him what to do to try and smooth it over, but this gave her a much clearer idea of the truth of government and war.

The War of the Ninepenny Kings was won by the end of the year, and Aerys came back triumphant with a knighthood. Jason had been the one to do the honours of knighting the prince on the battlefield after Aerys did something vaguely heroic; not heroic enough for her to remember what it was, mind.

Tya had no time to congratulate the prince, much to his displeasure, not that she cared. Genna had written to her of their father in Kevan's absence, and the latest letter had been the last straw; her sister had rather craftily got an idea of how much money Lord Tytos had been lending to his bannermen, money which he had never pushed for the repayment for. Even the rough figure had been enough to make Tya's blood boil.

"And what can you possibly do about it?" Jason asked her with a raised eyebrow. "Your father is Lord of Casterly Rock. If he doesn't want to do something, he won't,"

"I'm his heir," Kevan had replied instead of Tya. "He'll listen to me, surely. We can make him collect those debts,"

"Or collect them ourselves," Tya put in darkly. 

"You and what army?" Jason looked amused.

"His," She replied, and his smile faded.

She set off with her brother, cousin and the Lannister army three days after they returned to King's Landing from the Stepstones, heading for Casterly Rock. Enough was enough.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

Her arrival at Casterly Rock was a surprise to Lord Tytos; clearly he had only been expecting Kevan, and was not particularly pleased to see her. Though he'd never said it, she knew that he had always wanted a placid, empty-headed daughter to smile vacantly at his idiocy, whilst Tya had always seen exactly what kind of a man he was and not hesitated to call him out on it.

Tya had immediately demanded an audience in her father's solar upon their arrival, to which he had dithered and delayed.

"Can it not wait?" He shifted uncomfortably under the stares of his children. Genna and Kevan stood either side of her, and Tygett was there too; though only eleven, of all her siblings he had a glare closest to Tya's own. "I was having a rather pleasant afternoon with Meiri - I really would prefer to have this discussion another time,"

She wanted to raise her voice, to yell at him that lord's work - and his own children - should not be put aside to spend time with a glorified whore. Instead, she let Kevan speak the words he knew she wanted to.

"Now, Father," Her brother said sternly, and like a kicked, pitiful puppy their father followed them upstairs.

There, Tya laid out what was going to happen in harsh, simple terms. He would still be lord in all but name but leave all ruling to her and Kevan. Then he would have unlimited time to spend with his mistress - she had to force that word out from between her teeth - and do whatever he pleased. The bannermen would not take advantage of his generosity, good humour and weakness any longer, and they would restore the prestige of their house.

Lord Tytos had a few feeble protests but Tya easily shut him down, cold and uncompromising. He sulkily returned to his mistress, who would no doubt soothe him by whispering more poison about his children in his ears to raise her own standing and lower theirs, as she had been doing for years.

Once they had some modicum of control, the first move Tya and Kevan made was to accurately catalogue the mountains of gold that Lord Tytos had lent out and not pushed at all for its return. Though she had been expecting it to be bad from Genna's estimate, the full amount lent was worse than she could have ever imagined. Kevan had winced as he read out the figure, and Jason had laughed in incredulity. Tya wanted to tear her hair out by the roots; or even better, throttle the man she had the dishonour to call Father. A figure that could make a Lannister wince was no small matter.

No wonder their house was a laughing stock in their own lands! She despised the idea that each of these small lords were sat in their castles spending Lannister gold, chuckling to themselves knowing that the feeble Lord of Casterly Rock would never want it back; and even if he did, what was he going to do about it? He had not a violent bone in his body.

She, Kevan and Jason spent a day and a night writing letters to every single recipient of one of Lord Tytos' gift-like loans, demanding its immediate repayment. Those who could not repay would have to send a hostage to Casterly Rock until the debt was settled. No excuses, no compromises.

Their next move was to deal with the problem of the west now being riddled with robber knights and outlaws, who had flourished for years as Lord Lannister was too lazy to enforce the king's justice. Kevan took control of five hundred knights to rid the Westerlands of these criminals, making a harsh example that such acts were unacceptable in lands controlled by the Lannisters. No wonder their people had no faith in them, seeing as they failed to protect them even from scum such as this.

The backlash for this sudden change of policy soon came, of course, particularly for the demands for the loans to be repaid. Many lords were grudgingly compliant, or easily dealt with by a sharply worded letter from Tya or a visit from Kevan and his knights. But by all accounts, Rogar Reyne had laughed at the letter demanding repayment, whilst Walderan Tarbeck had actually ridden to Casterly Rock to confront Lord Tytos in person.

The man had no doubt envisioned easily cowing - or simply guilting - their father into rescinding the demands. Instead, he was faced with a stony-faced Tya, who had him arrested and imprisoned the moment he rode through the gates, before her father even had the chance to be alerted of his presence.

In response to that, Lord Tarbeck's wife - the hateful Lady Ellyn, who Tya's mother had despised and who always scorned Tya herself - had the audacity to seize cousin Stafford and two Lannisters of Lannisport, holding them hostage. Tya cared little for Jason's insufferable brother, but the nerve of that woman angered her more than she could express. 

Her plans for bloody vengeance were halted, however, by the arrival of her father. Lord Tytos finally emerged from his mistress' chambers, blustering and highly distressed.

"Why did you have to do this, Tya?" He practically moaned, horrified at the idea of his house causing such offence. "Enough is enough. Return Lord Walderan to his family at once, with our sincerest apologies! Forgiving his all his debts should be the least we do to make amends. Then they should return dear Stafford to us,"

That was an order, which the men hesitated to carry out but did so nonetheless; he was still officially Lord of Casterly Rock, after all. Tya had to watch as her own father sabotaged her work, and once again humiliated them all in front of their bannermen.

The look she gave Lord Tytos then was fit to reduce him to a pile of ash on the floor.

"I was planning on returning Tarbeck to his family in three pieces," She ground out coldly. 

Her father looked aghast.

"Meiri was right about you," He said, shaking his head and looking distraught. "She said you were cold and heartless, that it's not right for a woman to act so. Oh, perhaps if your mother was still alive she could've softened you, but now it's too late. I'm sorry Tya,"

Men actually stepped back as the fury rose in her.

"I have never met that gutter-born whore you dress in my mother's jewels," She snarled viciously but did not raise her voice. "Who are you to listen to her poison words about me? To abandon your duty as a lord and a father to bury your head in her breasts? To ignore your own children in favour of some common wench who happened to take your fancy? If you think Mother would have made me softer, you never knew your own wife - she would've agreed, and been as ashamed by you as all your children are. You are a disgrace to our house, a pitiful excuse of a man and unfit to be lord of anything, let alone Casterly Rock,"

She didn't give him a chance to reply to that, fearing that her tirade had made him cry, which would result in her slapping him there and then. Tya swept away without another word. If Kevan was here, perhaps he could have smoothed that over, or even cut her off before she finished her tirade, but he was not, so the entire castle remained on edge.

"Bury your head in her breasts?" Jason caught up with her, grinning, and she turned to snarl at him, which he ignored. "I liked your phrasing, but yellling at the man won't make him do what you want. Fathers don't like being told what to do by their daughters,"

"Then in all your wisdom, do enlighten me," Tya snapped, stopping abruptly and rounding on him.

"If I thought you capable," He sneered. "I'd tell you to flatter him, stroke his ego, speak sweet words that him convinced it was his idea all along. As you have all the charm of a dead fish, however, just cut him out. Take things out of his hands. The man hates to have to think about anything remotely difficult, he'll be grateful for it,"

Part of her wanted to slap him. Part of her grudgingly acknowledged that he was right.

She wrote to Kevan, explaining what had happened. Her brother returned to the Rock in days, just as furious as she was at their father, and very agreeable to their next course of action.

"We'll write to them," He said, eyes narrowed. "Demand that Rogar Reyne and Walderan Tarbeck appear at Casterly Rock to answer for their crimes," Both had still refused to repay his debt, or give up a hostage. "And Father won't hear a thing until it's too late,"

So they wrote the letters, though Tya did not think it was nearly enough. So when they received a reply from Houses Reyne and Tarbeck, both of them renouncing their allegiance to House Lannister, she was angry of course but also grimly satisfied.

Together, she and her brother raised an army. Kevan knew little of the ways of war outside what his maester had taught him, but Tya did. She had learned at her mother's knee, had served King Aegon for years whilst he discussed politics and warfare with high lords and soldiers, sat in on the Small Council during the Fifth Blackfyre Rebellion, dedicated half her life to intensely studying war, strategy and matters of state.

She had no practical experience of course, but stood alongside Kevan as he consulted with the captains and generals of the army, observing and listening before making any decisions. She only ever told Kevan what to do in private, of course, not wanting to undermine him.

The men seemed to respect that their lord's heir took their advice was taken into account, and also greatly appreciated having Tya to organise the logistics of it all; the one ladylike thing she excelled in was managing a household, and this was only on a grander scale. Food, supplies, weapons, wagons, horses, transporting men.

Their father was not consulted on any of this, of course. When he rushed out during preparations to protest Genna simply took him forcibly by the arm with a wide smile plastered on her face and marched him inside loudly inquiring if his breakfast had been satisfactory. All the Lannister captains turned a blind eye, having long been tired of their useless lord, easily switching to obeying his son.

They left Casterly Rock at dawn after a week of preparations, marching for Tarbeck Hall.

Lord Walderan had clearly not expected a response of that magnitude, and hastily sent them a messenger with terms, saying he would repay the loan in time but suggested insultingly small instalments over an insulting long time. He also had the nerve to demand Genna as a bride for his son, to ensure such tensions never arose between their two houses again.

It was Tya, not Kevan, who sent the head of the man who delivered the terms back to Tarbeck Hall, although her brother didnt object to that decision. Though no letter was exchanged, the message couldn't have been clearer.

Lord Tarbeck met their forces outside his castle. It was Tya's first glimpse of battle in person, and she learned a great deal. Kevan led the army whilst she remained at the back, observing the entire scene and sending her advice to the front, which her brother usually enacted. The battle was over fairly quickly, the Tarbecks soundly defeated, and Lord Walderan was captured and dragged before her and Kevan.

"I suppose you'll kill me then take my lands and castle," He spat angrily onto the ground at her feet, breathing heavily and bleeding from a nasty wound in his side. "My son will never forgive the Lannisters for this. We Tarbecks have long memories,"

"Is that so?" Tya raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with Kevan - who looked rather resigned, but nodded - and Jason, whose eyes were glinting cruelly. There was a heavy pause before she continued. "Destroy the entire castle," She looked back at the now aghast man on his knees. "The people in it too. Seal the gates and level it to the ground," 

"No!" The former Lord Tarbeck choked out in horror. "No, you can't, my wife, my children!" Tya's face remained cold, and his turned furious. "You vile, hateful, evil bitch! Your father will be ashamed of what you have done. Do you truly think you will be welcome at court after this barbarity? What cruel, heartless woman orders the deaths of innocent children?"

"You just told me those children would grow up to despise my house and rise against us," She raised an eyebrow. 

"You had your chances, Tarbeck," Kevan said coldly. "The scorched ruin of your hall will serve to remind others that House Lannister always pays its debts, even if its bannermen do not,"

She watched with grim satisfaction as the towers of Tarbeck Hall fell one by one under the bombardment from their siege engines, and the huge fires lit under its walls grew into a raging inferno. Lady Ellyn was in there somewhere, screaming, dying, no proud or scornful look to be seen on her face. 

Her husband Lord Walderan wept on his knees some way behind her, and it was a sweet sound.

The last tower fell and Tya turned away, facing Tarbeck, the fire still raging behind her. The wind was in their direction and ash from the castle was being blown towards them. A fitting backdrop.

"Remove his head," She heard Kevan say to one of the guards. 

"Don't bother finding an axe," She cut in. "Your sword will do,"

"It won't do a clean job of it, milady," The man warned, moving to obey her regardless. "The edge needs sharpening after the battle,"

"No matter," Her voice was cold.

The guard nodded, not surprised, as the other two forced Tarbeck to bend. He didn't take much forcing in truth. The man was broken.

It took four blows to sever his head. Tya watched each one without flinching, then looked up to see Jason staring at her with a dark look in his eyes.

"Did I do something to upset you?" She approached him as the crowd dispersed, her tone disdainful as her hand brushed ash from the castle out of her hair. 

His lips curled into a smile.

"Yes," He said. "You're so vile and bloodthirsty that I cannot seem to tear my eyes away," 

She stopped dead at that. What?

"And that's distressing for you?" Tya raised an eyebrow. 

"Very much, seeing as we haven't been able to stand each other since we were children,"

"Yes, well you should have thought twice before pushing me in the sea years ago. A Lannister always pays their debts, as Lord Tarbeck found out," The words were delivered in her usual deadpan, but Jason's eyes lit up as he realised she had made a joke. She knew he hadn't meant it like that, but didn't really want to address what that meant.

"You've never scared me, Tya, no matter how you wanted to," He stepped closer, forcing her to look up at him, which she resented but refused to step back.

"You say that like you scare me," She glared. "Second son of a second son,"

"Stuck-up bitch," He said, chuckling almost fondly. "I could scare you if I really tried,"

She scoffed derisively. 

"No one scares me,"

"No one has ever come close enough," Was his slyly delivered reply, which made her eyes widen a fraction as she realised what he was getting at. He noticed, unfortunately. "See,"

"Wipe that awful smile off your face," Tya turned away in disgust, hating the way her stomach felt, as though she was some pathetic swooning maiden. "People are dying," She waved a hand at the burning remains of Tarbeck Hall, the remark sounding pitiful even to her own ears.

Jason burst out laughing.

"Righteousness doesn't suit you, my lady," He crowed after her as she walked away, conceding for once just so she didn't have to suffer him any longer. 

*

Lord Reyne had not learned from his goodbrother's mistake.

He too met the Lannister army on the field, and he too was defeated easily. But despite being grievously injured he managed to escape and flee back to his seat of Castamere.

Kevan's army pursued him, to find that the entire household had given up the small overground keep and retreated to the vast subterranean chambers beneath it that made up the greater proportion of the castle.

Tya had been part of every war council, mostly observing, listening and learning from what the captains had to say. Kevan usually voiced the questions he knew she wanted to ask but didn't, and would generally agree with the option that he knew she favoured. She appeared the silent observer to the men, although surely most of them knew there was more to it. She had gained a reputation nonetheless for what she had ordered at Tarbeck hall.

The war council on how to deal with the Castamere siege was more fraught than any of the others.

"How do we fight them if they insist on hiding underground?" Once captain demanded, frustrated. "Siege weapons won't make a dent on those caverns, and they'll have an entire summer's worth of provisions. Waiting for surrender will take years. I doubt they ever will, not after what happened to Tarbeck Hall,"

"Those gates aren't unbreakable," Another disagreed. "Break them now before they have time to further shore them up and we'll have won easily,"

"We'll be fighting in narrow, unfamiliar halls. We can throw however many men we like down there but the defenders will only be facing three at a time. There are murder holes, traps and all sorts down there no doubt,"

"But we'd win eventually,"

"At what cost?"

This discussion had been going on for hours, round and round in circles. Tya could tell it was going nowhere and had heard all she had to hear. She spoke up for the first time that meeting and all quieted to listen.

"Cover the entrances to the castle," Her voice was cold. "Pile tons of stone over that supposedly impenetrable gate - "

"How is that any different to waiting them out in a siege?" One man interrupted but silenced immediately at the look she gave him.

"I hadn't finished," She said lowly, daring anyone else to speak. "Cover the gate. Then dam the Castamere stream. Divert it into the main mine entrance. If they wish to hide like rats underground, then let them drown down there. We'll burn their overground castle down on top of them. Anyone else thinking to mock House Lannister can look to Tarbeck Hall and Castamere and see their future,"

Silence met her words. Tya tried to ignore how Jason was watching her across the table.

Everyone here had been at Tarbeck Hall, had seen what she had ordered, but it seemed to be the consensus that she and Kevan had come up with that together. This was undeniably her own idea, and they all appeared stunned that a woman could come up with something so ruthless and effective. Even Kevan seemed rather shocked, though corrected his expression quickly.

"Do it," Her brother said as they all looked to him. "It's a good idea,"

And so they did.

The work did not take long. The Lannister army watched, silent and still, as water began to flow into the mine shaft. This time everyone knew that though Kevan Lannister had agreed to the order, it was given by his sister.

Muffled screams and panicking could soon be heard, the sounds of movement as desperate men, women and children threw themselves at the gates to the surface that wouldn't open. It lasted some hours, but the stream was fast flowing and soon the castle fell silent. All those who had taken shelter in its subterranean quarters were dead and drowned.

Tya watched the overground castle burn with hard eyes. The underground castle was now flooded and full of skeletons. The rest was an inferno like Tarbeck Hall, and would soon be another scorched shell. Even the lake from which Castamere got its name was half drained.

House Reyne and House Tarbeck had got what they deserved. Now Castamere and Tarbeck Hall stood as a harsh reminder of what fate awaited those who scorned the power of her house. And a message to her own father.

Weeks later, a musician visited Casterly Rock claiming to have a new song for the Lady Tya. That night, she heard 'The Rains of Castamere' for the first time.

And who are you, the proud lord said,
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
as long and sharp as yours.
And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.

Tya smiled fleetingly at the refrain, even though Lord Tytos looked like he wanted to weep.

"People already say you killed your poor late husband, Tya," He took her aside afterwards. "Now you have this dreadful song of blood and cruelty to your name, and I - "

"I'm not some gentle lady content to sit humming mindless songs, embroidering and pushing out children," She interrupted him sharply. "What I did set an example. Do you think any lord will dare to make a mockery of us now?"

"They were only laughing," Her father said. "What's so harmful about that? So what that they weren't paying us back immediately? We have enough gold to scarcely miss it,"

"Because it makes us look weak," She glared. "They laugh at us, they take advantage of your generosity, your money, and before long they decide to take our lands and titles. And who could blame them? They want a strong lord who they can trust to protect and fight for them if it comes to it, which you have never been. You must listen to me, Father. I know how this works,"

He hadn't listened, of course. What she said had gone in one ear and out the other, and he had gone back to his mistress for her to comfort him after his wicked daughter's harsh words that couldn't possibly be true.

Tya had paid the girl a visit just before she left for King's Landing. It was the first time she had met her; her father seemed to have been doing his best to keep the whore away from her, perhaps understandably.

"Lady Tya, I presume?" The candlemaker's daughter had the nerve to raise a haughty eyebrow where she lounged on a chaise, not even bothering to get to her feet to greet her. "Do they not teach ladies to knock?" Her voice was full of airs but did not disguise the common accent she had been born with. Her neck, ears, fingers were adorned with Lady Jeyne's jewels; whilst they had looked regal and elegant on Tya's mother, this girl made them look gaudy and excessive.

Tya said nothing, simply stared her down from her considerable height. Slowly the awful girl's resolve faltered, she couldn't hold her gaze, and uncomfortably shifted into a sitting position, hands twisted in her lap.

"Well?" She asked, considerably more shakily. "Are you just going to stare, or did you come here for a reason?"

"I'll have my mother's jewels from you one day," Tya's voice was low and hard. "Everything else, too," It didn't help her anger that she saw one of her father's shirts on the back of a chair, one of his socks on the floor.

The girl tried to smile cockily but just came across as rather scared.

"Tytos says he'll provide for me when he's dead and gone," She said, eyes darting to the door. "He said he'll marry you off again soon, far away, so you can't touch me,"

Well that was useful to know. Tya would deal with that later.

"Do you not hear what they say about me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"That you bathe in the blood of young maidens to keep your beauty?" The girl had the nerve to snort. "That you practice witchcraft? That you must be hiding a pair of balls under those skirts to act so much like a man?"

Tya had heard all of those things too and not paid them any mind. Better be feared than laughed at, although Jason had laughed himself silly and Genna had teased her.

"That I destroyed House Reyne and House Tarbeck for daring to disrespect my family," She said coldly. "They were two of the most powerful noble houses in the Westerlands. You're a glorified whore, and will be treated as nothing more than that. Don't let yourself think that anything my father does for you will last when he's gone,"

With that, she had left, and had gone immediately to her cousin.

"Father is planning to marry me off again," She said, struggling to get the next words through her teeth. "I don't know what to do," 

She loathed admitting such a thing, especially to him. But she couldn't make another marriage that was so far beneath her; all the Lords Paramount were spoken for, it would be a marriage to a bannerman for her, a lesser lord. Once, she deluded herself that she would have been happy with that, with doing her duty so as not to shame her family. Now Tya knew that she wanted more. 

Jason simply smiled his usual sly smile.

"I do,"

It was a most un-Tya-like plan, to say the least. She still wondered how he had gotten her to agree, stubbornly blocking out thoughts of her swooping stomach.

Her cousin had hardly got through explaining it without laughing at her incredulous expression. She had to admit though that it was likely the best way to get what they both wanted, ludicrous though it might be. She didn't have any better ideas after all; if she did, she wouldn't have even considered... this.

They must have almost given her father a heart attack. He had been walking through one of the more deserted hallways near his mistress' chambers, which he was known to pass through for the view of the sea. He rounded a corner to see that Jason had her up against the wall, kissing her fiercely; no more than that, but it looked a lot worse given that Tya's skirts had ridden up and her legs were clasped tight around his waist.

Lord Tytos had let out a very unlordly shriek, flapped around a bit, half-heartedly scolded them both but then realised this was his opportunity to get back in Tya's good graces. He suggested that they become betrothed, immediately, for propriety's sake.

Tya had left the hallway with her heart beating in her chest and Jason's arm around her shoulders as her cousin shook with silent laughter. Once out of sight and hearing of her father, he started to laugh in earnest and spun her around like a dance partner, ignoring how stiff she was. 

"I may live to regret this," She warned him. "I still detest you. Your only desirable quality is the name Lannister, which I already have," But her words lacked any real bite.

"You don't kiss someone you hate like that," He smirked. "Or perhaps you do. Either way, you seemed to enjoy it well enough,"

"That was for show," She replied sharply. "Elsewise my father would've had you thrown in the dungeons for raping his daughter,"

"Would he? He hates conflict, after all," That was... unfortunately true. "And I have never heard such a shameless lie - you're hardly adept at pretending you like something,"

"You are," She pointed out. "You just never bother to pretend to like me,"

"Because I dislike you greatly," Jason - her betrothed, gods - said conversationally. "You're cold-hearted, stiff, charmless, often vicious and think far too much of yourself," 

"You're infuriating, immature, over-talkative, arrogant and cruel," She snapped back. "You'd make a better woodsman than a knight, seeing as all you're good at is that bow, and running your mouth,"

"And you'd make a better tyrant than a wife, but for whatever twisted reason, I still wish to marry you," He pulled her closer, pressing a hard kiss to her lips. Tya hated how she melted slightly, leaning into him. No one else had ever managed to make her concede so easily. She had never realised that kissing a man could be something that didn't make her skin crawl.

Jason wasn't the best match for her politically, that was true. But Kevan was the heir, the one who mattered, and he would be marrying into a bannerman house. Genna, Tygett and Gerion would all do the same, as well as Jason's brother Stafford. 

Tya had been married once and it had been unbearable. She couldn't stand the idea of having to be a biddable and demure little wife, her only role in life being to push out heir after heir for some small, irrelevent castle. It went beyond her snobbery of marrying beneath her. She couldn't stand the idea of a man's hands on her again, rutting on top of her like she was some dumb animal. She disliked her cousin, but doubted he would force her like that; she cared not if he sought his pleasure with whores, so long as she heard nothing of it.

Most importantly, with Jason she could remain at court. He was heir to nothing, same as she was. She still had her place on the Small Council; admittedly a minor position as a note-taker, but valuable to her nonetheless. And if she had to, she could return to Casterly Rock whenever she wished to help deal with Father.

Perhaps it was selfish to take it upon herself to arrange her own marriage. No, it was definitely selfish, but she didn't care. Tya had done more for the family in a matter of weeks than Lord Tytos had done in almost two decades of lordship; she was allowed to do one thing for herself and herself alone.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

262 AC

King Jaehaerys had always been sickly, and died after only three years on the throne, making Aerys the King of the Seven Kingdoms. For better or worse.

The new king was ambitious to make his reign a success, and one of the first things he did was to retire his father's Hand, the cautious and elderly Edgar Sloane. Unfortunately, this seemed to be a mistake, as each man he appointed to the position afterwards was utterly useless.

"Why am I cursed to be surrounded by fools?" Aerys was in one of his rages, storming into Tya's chambers without knocking and proceeding to rant at her, uninvited. "Every man I give that damned pin to disappoints me. How hard can it be to find a half-decent Hand?"

Kingship had not made him any less mercurial. He was lively and generous one minute, proud and furious the next. But that was nothing new, especially to one who had known him years.

Tya raised her eyes from the latest letter from Casterly Rock, Kevan filling her in on what was going on back in the west. Since they had forced their father to step back, not to mention their display with the Reynes and Tarbecks, everything had been running a lot more as it should do in the Westerlands. 

It was a good thing that she had returned to court, too, as it gave her brother a chance to prove to the lords that he wasn't in his sister's shadow and was capable without her at his side. Though Kevan had given most of the orders in the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion (though advised by her in private) and earned plenty of respect in his own right, that had all been rather overshadowed by Tya's actions at Castamere.

"Give the badge to my brother," She said rather distractedly, not in the mood for dealing with a kingly tantrum. "Kevan is young, capable, will listen to what you say and most importantly is able to read,"

The Hand before this one had committed a grievous financial error due to misreading a new trade agreement that had been sent up from Highgarden, resulting in a significant loss of coin from the Royal Treasury that they couldn't very well grovel to the Tyrells to give back without looking like beggars.

"No..." The king mused. "He's barely nineteen, that's too young," 

He's the same age you are. Though Kevan acted far older than his age, where Aerys often acted like a ten-year-old.

"What about Jason? He's two years older and you like him well enough,"

"He's a good friend, but wouldn't take politics seriously enough," Her suggestion was waved off again. 

There was a time when Tya would have thought that herself, but now she knew better. Her cousin acted like he took little seriously, but underneath that he was just as ambitious as she was, and surprisingly diplomatic when he laid on the charm and put aside any stupid remarks.

Besides, Jason would be her husband within the year. Tya could not stay as one of Rhaella's ladies forever unless her future husband found himself a position on the Small Council or suchlike. At the moment he was at court as Aerys' friend, as well as assisting the ageing master-at-arms with many of his duties.

She felt a stab of irritation, both at the king's careless dismissal of her family and at his inability to accept a decent solution to his problem, continuing to fill her ears with his whining. With most men - all men - she wouldn't bother to restrain her annoyance so well, but with the king it was different, of course. She had to at least try to stay in his favour.

Even so, there were limits to her patience. This mummers farce had been going on months, since King Jaehaerys died, and she was sick of it.

"Have you any better ideas?" She asked sharply, reminding herself to avoid giving the king the tongue-lashing he deserved, casting her eyes back to her letter so as to not be openly combatative. "All the men who are capable don't want the position. All those who want the position are incapable. Quite honestly, by this point you might as well make me your Hand and have done with it. I'd do a better job than each one of those fools you've appointed so far,"

For once, Aerys was silent at her words. So silent, for so long, that Tya raised her eyes from the parchment to see him looking at her in a very odd unblinking way.

"I'd rather give the position to you than anyone else," The king said remarkably honestly in response to her questioning eyebrow.

Tya stared. She hadn't been seriously suggesting he make her Hand, only stating the truth that she'd do a better job than all the recent ones. Although if this was the direction things were headed... No, that was impossible, a female Hand would have the kingdoms in an uproar, and Aerys was just as likely joking as not.

"You're not serious," She said flatly, but Aerys was shaking his head, that same fire present in his eyes as it always was when he believed he had come across a genius idea, like when he had wished to extend his kingdom by invading the Stepstones.

"No, no, think about it Tya," He was positively beaming. "I've known you for years, enough to know that you're firmly on my side," When did you get that impression? She was a Lannister and always would be, but no need to disillusion him now or she really would be a fool. "You're one of the most intelligent people I know, even though you're a woman," Now that was a backhanded compliment if ever she heard one. "That move at Castamere was simply inspired. Truly, even the most ruthless generals would struggle to think of what you did," She did smile faintly at that. "And even though you're a woman you scare half the castle to death," More than half. "No one questions you - "

"They would question me being made Hand," She interrupted his monologue. "Just think for a moment, your Grace, of the uproar that would occur throughout the kingdoms at a woman being given the second-highest position in the land,"

A large part of her was tempted to just let him pin the badge on her there and then - the title of Tya Lannister, Hand of the King, was too tempting to turn away - but she was also wary of the potential humiliation of him bestowing the position on her without thinking, then being persuaded that it was a bad idea and taking it off her again within a week.

"You're not like most women," Aerys waved a hand carelessly, as though that settled that. "You're not emotional or gentle in any way, you're intimidating, level-headed, clever, and you clearly enjoy all this - this ruling business," Tya closed her eyes briefly at that. Only our esteemed king could describe governing the realm as 'this ruling business'. "Or you wouldn't be bothering with all that rubbish with your father and Casterly Rock,"

"Half the realm thinks I ordered my husband's death," She said neutrally, trying to see if he was truly serious about this. "I did order the deaths of two whole castles full of people. I am oddity enough at court being twenty years old and unmarried, never mind that I'm betrothed to Jason. Already there is foolish whispering that I'm your secret mistress - which isn't helped by you marching into my chambers uninvited every other day - let alone if you honoured me with the position of Hand,"

To that Aerys just laughed.

"If only," He said, laughing more at the unimpressed expression on her face. "If your only worry is a bunch of quarrelsome old lords and some gossiping ladies then you can have the pin right now. Maybe then in your gratitude you could hold back some of your disdain towards me,"

"Aerys," She used his name rather than his title to get him to listen. "You realise that if you make me Hand, it won't be some joke. I won't be a friend there to help you out at Small Council meetings and agree with every word out of your mouth. You'll have to listen to what I say, take me seriously and trust my judgement,"

"Of course," He said with such conviction that she almost believed him. "I can't imagine we will disagree. You enjoy all the dull work that I do my best to avoid,"

That was actually a good point. She could run the kingdoms whilst the king planned tourneys, eyed up young maidens and organised masked balls.

Tya was silent for a long moment.

"Very well," She said, though held up a hand before he could interrupt. "Although I want you to swear you will not strip me of this position on a whim, or I will return to Casterly Rock for good," He nodded. "And I tell you now, I will remove a finger from anyone saying I slept with the king to get the job," From anyone else that might have been a joke. She was perfectly serious.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Aerys grinned. "Lady Hand,"

Even Tya's lips twitched, soon relaxing into a proper smile, even allowing him to take her hand and kiss it to seal the deal. Hand of the King. This was more than even she ever expected.

It secured the future for her and Jason; both of them were heir to nothing, and though she would always have a place at Casterly Rock, the idea of leeching off her brother's generosity was repulsive. She had planned to persuade Aerys to give Jason a position on the Small Council when one opened up - the Master of Laws was so elderly she was surprised he could find his way to the council chambers, and would no doubt be dead soon - but this... this was so much better.

The first time she sat on the Iron Throne, Tya felt at home. Her arms easily found places to rest amongst the sharp blades; better than Aerys, who cut himself at least once a week on the chair. Her back was straight and proud and her eyes slowly surveyed the people below her, so far below. The only woman to sit here aside from Rhaenyra Targaryen, her voice carried across the hall, more of a queen than that ill-fated woman would ever be even without a crown and title.

There had been outrage at the king making a woman his Hand, of course, especially one as young as her. But rather surprisingly Aerys had stuck to his decision firmly, not letting anyone sway him no matter how they bribed, implored or flattered; no raging, for anyone who dared raise their voice to the king would immediately convince him of the opposite.

For Tya, it had been a matter of waiting to prove herself, and she had not been waiting long. Within six months of becoming Hand she had demonstrated that she was ruthless, capable, shrewd and a brilliant administrator. The benefits to the realm were already showing.

After writing to Kevan, she had covered the crown's debts to the Iron Bank with gold from Casterly Rock, which would, of course, be paid back but gave them more time and freedom to do so; and most importantly, the royal treasury was indebted to her own family. She had won the favour and loyalty of many lords by repealing many of King Aegon's idealistic reforms that favoured the smallfolk. She had done wonders to support trade already, so the merchants rejoiced under her administration.

By far the thing she was best at was the raising of coin, however. The crown's debts to House Lannister would be paid off far quicker than expected given her talent at it, much to Aerys' delight.

"I've heard people saying you must shit gold," He crowed, both pleased and amused.

Tya was not.

"Yes, because how else would a woman do so much of a better job than decades of men before her?" She said dryly.

"I don't know how you do it, but keep doing it," The king said, pleased. "I knew making you Hand was a good idea. I bet all those men asking me how you persuaded me to give you the job are regretting it now," 

It was like she hadn't been the one to suggest it, albeit not seriously.

"Lots of them are missing a finger - I wouldn't be surprised,"

True to her word, Tya had removed a finger from anyone heard to be claiming that she fucked the king to become Hand. It had been a popular jest in the first few days after her appointment but had become significantly less so very quickly. Both men and women said such things of her, but the men said it louder, and seemed the most surprised that she actually stayed true to her warning and enacted the promised punishment.

She had recruited and organised her own personal guard who undertook this duty (amongst others). They mainly consisted of men who had already been in the service of House Lannister, but they now answered only to her and contained a higher calibre of fighters than the average household guard.

"Why do you need guards of your own?" Aerys asked her. "It seems a bit paranoid. Just have Lannister men around you,"

"You should know by now that I don't care how things seem," She replied. "You were singing my praises a moment ago - let me work as I please,"

Though disgruntled, the king listened to her and did not mention the matter again. Aside from instances like that, she was pleasantly surprised to learn that Aerys did not interfere with her work much, mostly because he didn't understand a lot of it. He was an active king, attending most small council meetings and doing his best to follow what was happening, often making outlandish suggestions that had to be gently shut down, but most of the actual ruling fell to his advisors.

As she had hoped, he mainly stuck to organising feasts and tourneys, commissioning paintings and supporting plays and musicians. Visitors to court were greeted by the charismatic, generous king, the gracious and gentle queen, and on Aerys' other side the stern, hard-eyed Hand.

And for now, the realm prospered.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

263 AC

Tya would admit that her wedding day - her real wedding day, to Jason rather than that weaselly Frey - was one of the happiest days of her life. The only one that could compete was the day Aerys made her Hand.

It had been a long betrothal. She had wanted to prove that she could govern as Hand effectively on her own, and it wasn't just her husband telling her what to do. That had probably been for the best, however. In that time, she had gone from feeling a strange attraction to her soon-to-be husband and disliking him a lot of the time, to actually admitting that she enjoyed his company. 

Of course, Jason still infuriated her often, as she infuriated him. They were not completely different people, so of course that hadn't changed. But they had learned to present a united front before an audience and keep their sniping and arguments to private locations, and actually found they complimented each other rather well. 

The courtier who said that Jason was like the silk glove to Tya's iron gauntlet had meant it as a mockery - an insult to her cousin's manliness - though she found the description rather apt. He could be charming and diplomatic when he put his mind to it, an ability that she definitely lacked, though equally he had a knack for getting under people's skin. Hers in particular.

Though he deferred to her in public - as everyone had to, she was Hand of the King, although it rankled more when it was a man deferring to his future wife - in private it was a different story. Jason had never been shy with his opinion of her, and she had never intimidated him like she intimidated most other men. 

He also threw her off slightly with how easily he touched her. They would be arguing and he would grab her arm, or shoulder, or waist, not afraid to push her as much as she pushed him, or look at her with that dark look in his eyes. There was a reason he did it too - it worked - and they both knew it. 

"Why is it you would so easily accept a wife who would outrank you?" She had asked him once in the middle of such an argument, just to irritate him further. "Don't you care how people mock you for being less of a man for of it?"

He had laughed derisively at that, eyes flashing in anger. 

"I may bow down to you in public, Tya, but when in our lives have I ever let you walk all over me in private? I care little for what others think, only what I know to be true. Out there you are Hand of the King but behind closed doors, you will be my wife," 

"So you wish for me to spend my days ruling the kingdoms, to come back to my husband and beg and scrape like some meek, subserviant woman?" She said scornfully. 

"A little begging and scraping would do you some good," He said darkly. "And you shouldn't spit the word woman with such resentment, seeing as you are one. But no, of course that's not what I meant. I meant that I will not expect you to defer to me as my wife, but in turn you will not expect me to defer to you as Hand,"

Tya was silent, spending a good few seconds deciding whether it was worth continuing to argue when he'd actually said something quite reasonable.

"Fine," She ground out eventually, hating how often she found herself agreeing with him in matters like this. "That still doesn't answer why you'd put up with the mockery,"

"Being married to the Hand is something many women have desired for centuries," His lips twisted wryly. "Power and influence is a factor. As for the rest, if you don't know already then I'm hardly going to tell you,"

No amount of sharp words or glares could get it out of him.

*

They wed in King's Landing. Casterly Rock would've been more fitting perhaps, but Tya could not spend too long away from the city. She may have been Hand for a year now, proving herself a hundred times over, but there were still those who claimed a woman was too weak for such a high position, too easily distracted. But the Great Sept of Baelor was hardly a poor substitute.

Jason seemed like a better match now than when their betrothal had first been announced. Given Tya's position, she could not have a husband who would outshine her in rank, and try to use her to influence the king, which ruled out any match from the great houses, or even a lord's heir. The lords wouldn't stand for it, and neither would Tya. Besides, there was no one to object. All of her siblings and cousins would marry into the powerful houses of the west, making all the alliances they needed.

Sometimes she wondered what would've happened if she had tried harder with Aerys. If she had played things right, perhaps she could have been queen. But then again, perhaps not; though the king held no love or attraction towards his sister, he had agreed with his father's decision to marry him to Rhaella to continue the Targaryen tradition of keeping the blood pure. If Tya had tried harder she was under no doubt that he'd have wanted her, but it was unlikely he'd have made her queen. She would have simply been disgraced and called his whore.

And besides, the idea of using feminine wiles - which she didn't have - to try and charm a man whom she felt rather sick at the idea of sleeping with was hardly appealing. 

Things were much better now, anyway. Hand of the King was a much more powerful position than being queen. As far as Tya knew, Rhaella's duties were simply taking care of Prince Rhaegar, organising her ladies, helping the steward run the Red Keep household and being a pretty ornament on her husband's arm. Whilst Tya was essentially running the realm. Aerys liked to think himself an involved king, but he only involved himself in matters he believed interesting, leaving the more mundane work to her.

Besides, she would much rather be Jason's wife than Aerys'. Often with the king it felt like she was minding an unruly child, or trying to calm a volatile beast. With Jason... he was more her equal, as annoying as he often was. Even though he had to defer to her in public, in private, if anything, it was the other way around. Something Tya thought she would despise, but so long as no one knew, she found she didn't mind so much.

"Bad morning?" He entered her solar the day before the wedding, catching the look on her face immediately; she had fixed whoever had dared to open the door with a glare, which didn't abate as she realised it was him.

"The Master of Laws asked Aerys who would be replacing me as Hand once I grow big with child after the wedding," Her tone told him exactly what she thought of that. "Aerys seemed to have not considered that a possibility,"

"Gods," He looked amused. "I suppose he's not going to be Master of Laws for very long, then," He wasn't wrong. She had spent the hour since the meeting thinking up strategies to remove him from the Small Council, if he didn't drop dead of old age before she managed it. "I'll start dropping hints to Aerys, then - once you've driven the old man off, I'll make sure I'm his replacement,"

"The king believes you too lax and careless for government," She said. "He thinks you're only good as a drinking companion, or to shoot the creatures he cannot on a hunt,"

"That's no problem," He waved a hand, taking a seat on the other side of her desk. "Aerys is easy to convince of anything, so long as you don't ask him outright. I'll let him think it was his idea and he'll be falling over himself to give me the position," 

He had always been more subtle than Tya, who tended to tell people what to do and intimidate them into obeying rather than befriending then manipulating them. Silk glove indeed.

"If you're sure," 

"Of course I'm sure," It was his turn to glare at her for doubting him. "I'll be there as his ally. You counter his moronic suggestions all the time - I can make him think I'll encourage them. The real issue is, what happens when everyone gets uneasy that the Small Council is being overrun by Lannisters?"

"Most who question Aerys directly will only make him do the opposite," She wasn't concerned. "And only the king himself can decide to remove you - everyone else is irrelevant,"

"True enough," He laughed, glancing at what she was working on. "Is that for the wedding?"

"Yes," She scowled. "You should be doing it - you're better at... this,"

Jason stood and moved behind her chair, peering over her shoulder. In front of her was the seating plan for the wedding, both in the sept and at the feast. She had little patience for organising people like this, remembering who had a grudge against who, or who would be more slighted by a worse position. Tya would remember the information easily enough if it became useful to her, but casual diplomacy like this was a skill her soon-to-be husband was far better at.

"I thought ladies were meant to be good at things like this," He smiled slyly, taking the quill from her and crossing out several names on the paper, scribbling alternative ones underneath. "It's to be the most important day of your life, after all,"

Tya fixed him with a flat stare, though her lips twitched despite herself.

"If you think that marrying you is the most important day in my life, you should go and have a long, hard think," She said, earning her a smack on the back of the head. She turned around, outraged, to find him grinning. "Don't you dare - "

"Husbands are allowed to beat their wives for insolence. Count yourself lucky,"

"You're not my husband yet, and if you continue to speak to me like that, you never will be,"

"Someone has to take you down a few pegs," He laughed. "You spend all day as the second-most powerful person in the kingdoms - the least you can do is concede a little in private,"

"You're insufferable," She scowled, casting her eye back down to the seating plan her cousin was still making changes to. "If it was up to me, we'd have the entire high table for just Lannisters. Maybe Rhaella could join us, but Aerys wouldn't even be in the hall,"

"Do you want to sign both our death warrants while you're at it?" Jason remarked dryly. "His Grace is unhappy enough that we're marrying at all. He keeps telling me that if my wife is too hard to satisfy then send you over to him,"

"Satisfied?" She raised an eyebrow. "Is that what he calls Rhaella dreading every time he visits her chambers?" 

Since the birth of Prince Rhaegar four years ago, there had been no more princes or princesses that had lived longer than a month after their birth, and the king was growing increasingly impatient.

"Apparently the king's definition of satisfaction is rather different to everyone else's," His tone was light, though he hesitated before continuing. "I know you can deal with stupid comments like that, but if he tries anything further - "

"My noble husband can kill him on my behalf," Tya glowered at what she took for attempted, unwanted chivalry. "Bravely, hidden with a bow and arrow from two hundred feet away,"

"You can mock me all you like, Tya, but don't underestimate those mercurial moods of his, particularly when he's in his cups," Jason was uncharacteristically serious. "He respects you far more than me, but I see a side of him that you only get glimpses of. Some of the things he says in front of me, knowing full well we're betrothed..." He trailed off, eyes dark. "Not saying you're weak or helpless, because I certainly know you're vicious enough to stand up for yourself, and you take care around him as it is. But be on your guard, is all I'm saying,"

She was tempted to argue that - she had known Aerys since she was ten years old, she knew how to deal with his ridiculousness and he listened to her better than he listened to anyone - but Jason rarely got like this.

Instead Tya pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Fine,"

*

She did look beautiful on her wedding day.

Tya rarely paid much attention to her appearance aside from the impression she was giving off, usually aiming for regal, intimidating and older than she actually was. Her typical gowns were relatively high-necked and broad shouldered, with sweeping skirts done in shades of most commonly Lannister red, but also dark shades of purple, green, blue or even black, and her hair was usually scraped back into severe, practical braids or a knot at the base of her neck.

Today, however, she looked more like the young woman of one-and-twenty that she was. 

Her golden hair was done in elaborate braids, though some strands were left down to frame her face. Her gown was white, with slashes of red, and gold lions gambolling around the skirts. The neckline was far lower than she usually favoured, the skirts more voluminous, and instead of her usual dark leather boots that added an extra two inches to her height and clacked sharply on the floor when she walked, her feet were clad in soft doeskin slippers.

Her bearing and posture still made the more girlish than usual dress seem regal, and she still looked nowhere near looking like a blushing, giggling bride, but today Tya presented a slightly softer image to her usual stern, untouchable one.

There was no hesitation when she kissed her new husband in the sept, lingering a little longer than was strictly proper. She wasn't smiling constantly throughout the feast but smiled a lot more than she normally did. She was even in a good enough mood to let her father kiss her on the cheek; they were the same height now, she noted. Age and consumption had shortened him.

Aerys had been glowering for much of the ceremony, though she expected nothing less. She wasn't foolish enough to believe the king loved her; his behaviour was nothing more than that of a spoiled boy who has everything gifted to him on a plate being denied something for once. That was the only reason she interested him the way she did. But it was rather irritating nonetheless. 

She remembered Jason's words from the previous day, and tried not to glare.

During her first wedding, Tya had considered how much better it would be to wed Aerys and be queen. Compared to being wife to a nameless Frey, it would have been infinitely better. But not compared to what she had now. Definitely not.

"Your father seems to have avoided embarrassing himself overmuch tonight," Her new husband murmured where he sat beside her. "I did task Genna with keeping an eye on him - she seems to have done her job well," 

Tya had wondered why her sister had not left Lord Tytos' side all evening.

"I paid a servant to keep topping his cup up with apple juice instead of that cider he likes so much," She said. "So far it looks like he hasn't noticed," 

He snorted.

"Between us we may have achieved one night in public where Lord Lannister doesn't humiliate us all,"

She hummed in agreement, but glanced across the hall.

"Aerys is suspiciously quiet,"

The king had made decent conversation with them during the meal, laughing and joking with nothing untoward, which made her rather wary. Surely he had something planned, to have gone from glowering in the sept to being the charming version of himself he usually presented to people he didn't know. Now Aerys seemed to have migrated down to the dance floor, though kept his wine cup in his hand.

"Give it time," Jason seemed darkly amused. "He's gulping down that wine fast enough that he'll be roaring drunk before long. Then the fun will begin," They both watched as he grabbed a nearby serving girl with a large bust, openly groping her in the middle of the hall and laughing. "There we go,"

Tya closed her eyes briefly in exasperation.

Her cousin was right; the king only got drunker as the night went on. Of course, most of the others there were dead drunk too and so only laughed uproariously at Aerys' antics. Even Tya was feeling a slight buzz from the wine she'd had, considering she didn't normally drink more than a glass.

"Ser Jason!" Her heart sank as the king called out to her husband, slurring his words slightly. "Your bride looks beautiful - surely you can't keep her all to yourself. Let all the lords in the room lay eyes on our dear Lady Hand's beauty. Every inch," There was a weak round of lewd chuckles, though not many; most were not so drunk that they did not see the look on Tya's face. "I believe it's time for the bedding,"

She had been dreading him saying that. She hadn't asked the king not to call for the bedding ceremony, knowing that would only drive him to do so for certain, but had clung to the vain hope that if she didn't mention it then neither would he.

"Seven hells," Jason muttered, clearly sensing her discomfort as he placed a hand on her stiff arm. "If you don't want this, we can call it off now," 

That was uncharacteristically thoughtful. But people were already moving eagerly towards them, so they had to speak quickly.

"We can't," She said through gritted teeth. "He'd insist on it. We'd only come away looking foolish," And quite honestly, she didn't want the inevitable tantrum refusing Aerys would cause, not on her wedding day.

Her husband clearly realised she was right, squeezing her arm slightly.

"Ten minutes, and it'll be over," He said. "Then if you want, all we have to do is sleep,"

She made a slight scoffing noise, meeting his eyes.

"What do you take me for. We're not sleeping,"

He raised a surprised eyebrow, though grinned at her as the gaggle of idiotic, shrieking, giggling ladies descended upon him.

"I'll hold you to that, my lady," He managed to say before they carried him off, cooing over his good looks. 

Tya narrowed her eyes, but didn't have to watch the sight of her husband being gradually disrobed by a horde of women for very long. She herself was swept off her feet by a dozen pairs of eager, grasping hands, the king foremost amongst them.

A large part of her wanted to slap each and every one of them off her, then kick Aerys in the face to boot, but the more rational part realised she could not get out of this without looking like a fool. The king was very drunk, she had seen enough of that tonight, and when he was drunk he was even more liable to fly off the handle and cause a scene, which was the last thing she wanted. No, for once all Tya wished for was all eyes to look away and let her be alone with her husband.

She had no desire to have those men of power she battled against and worked with every day see her reduced to nothing more than a naked woman to gawp at rather than the strong, untouchable image she had built around herself. Too late for that, she supposed.

Her dress was gone by the time they climbed the stairs, the braids in her hair falling out. Before long, Tya only wore her chemise and smallclothes, and Aerys' eyes raked over her with undisguised lust.

"I've never seen your hair loose before," He said, somehow making even that suggestive.

Tya shot him a glare, which he was impervious to at this level of intoxication, though many of the men around him noticed and shifted uncomfortably. Aerys, in fact, seemed to take her glare as an invitation.

The custom of the bedding ceremony was meant to deliver the bride and groom naked to their marriage bed, making raunchy jests and crude suggestions along the way. It was certainly not customary for any man to do as the king did to her and grab the bride's barely-covered breast with one hand, pulling her in for a bruising kiss with the other.

Tya immediately tried to wrest away from him, hearing the rather shocked exclamations from some of the men and jeers from others, but his hand was fisted in her hair, making escape difficult. In the end, she simply bit down hard on his tongue - which was halfway down her throat - making him recoil with a cry, bleeding.

"I believe his Grace has had too much to drink," She said cooly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Careful, Aerys. You'll get blood on your shirt," 

There was some laughter from the other men, though others were silent, realising her words hadn't been a joke but a stark warning.

Fury flashed through the king's eyes briefly, but he really was dead drunk (and therefore even more mercurial than ever) so it passed before any more damage could be done.

"Cruel," He declared, slurring, pointing a wavering finger in her general direction. "You are cruel to me, Lady Lannister,"

"I run your kingdom," She said flatly. "If you want a kiss, go to your wife," 

Another flash of anger, and more laughter from the men. Then Aerys' face twisted into a bleary smile, as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Lady Tya bites like the lion on her banners," He declared, to louder laughter from everyone, and a universal sigh of relief that the king was joking again and the Hand wasn't going to have him killed. "Sharp claws, like the lord in that Castamere song,"

"She is the lord in the song," Someone pointed out. "Lady just didn't fit with the words,"

"She is!" Aerys looked delighted at that realisation, looking around. "See! It was a good decision to make her Hand. How many men have songs written about them?"

Tya could name several unflattering songs the smallfolk sang about the king there and then, not that they would ever reach his ears.

Though Aerys didn't touch her again for the rest of the journey to her chambers in the Tower of the Hand, it was a relief when they finally deposited her in the bed beside Jason, and the door shut, muffling the rowdiness from outside. 

Tya sank back onto the pillows, seeing her husband glance at her, amused. She moved to cover herself, feeling rather exposed but trying to make it seem like she was merely cold.

"You've got blood on your face. It's not yours, is it,"

"It's Aerys'. He... took some liberties," Jason's eyes clouded in anger, but she cut him off before he could speak. "He won't do so again, believe me," I just bit the king - bit Aerys, of all people. The thought was absurd; so absurd that she actually chuckled. "He stuck his tongue down my throat and I bit him hard enough to make it bleed,"

Her husband's eyebrows rose, and he seemed to want to remain angry, but the image was clearly too much.

"For gods' sake," He shook his head, unable to suppress the grin that formed on his face. Then he realised she was still laughing to herself - which she did rarely enough - and had to join in. She was still furious at what the king had done, and would be for a long time, but for now it was easier to let it go. "You seem to make a habit of biting people - your mother loved to tell that story of you biting Grandfather as a baby. I always said you were vicious,"

"I'll bite you, if you carry on with that," She glared at him, arms still folded across her chest, legs crossed.

"Please do," He replied, making her eyes widen.

"Jason!" She moved to hit him in anger - he still made her act like a foolish child - but he caught her wrist. She realised that her chest was now exposed, and her husband lazily raked his eyes down her naked form, smirking when she scowled. "Go on then, if you're so eager,"

"I know you don't know much of things like this, but you'll have to uncross your legs first," He replied facetiously, earning another glare.

"It's hardly the first time I've had a man rutting on top of me," Her words were sharply delivered, designed to put him off. 

He just laughed, of course.

"Emmon Frey wouldn't have known how to please a woman, let alone a woman like you, if his life depended on it," He tilted his head, eyes darkening. "Although, I suppose it did," He sat up slightly, and Tya felt the familiar stab of longing that she had felt around him for a long time, him and no one else. Around Jason, she could understand why lots of women went along with the pretence that laying with a man was enjoyable. Not that she would.

But then his hand moved between her legs, and her eyes widened.

"What are you - " She broke off, at both the look on his face and the unexpected pleasure that ran through her.

"He just went straight in?" Jason didn't stop, but his face showed his disdain for what she had revealed. "Gods, no wonder you're so uptight about all this. How old were you again, fourteen?"

"Don't you dare - pity me," Tya managed to get out, wincing as her words came out rather breathy. She had never before been breathy in her life. 

Her husband's eyebrows rose in amusement.

"I wouldn't dream of it," His eyes darkened further as he looked down at her, nudging her legs slightly further apart. She didn't stop him. "That Frey was unworthy to even look upon you,"

Sometimes, he knew all the right things to say to her. Tya craned her head to kiss him, and it was unlike any kiss they had shared before. 

She learned that night that not every woman who claimed to find bedding pleasurable was lying.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

264AC

The retinue from Dorne was impressive, Tya had to admit. There were plenty of knights, yes, but spearmen too, all atop sleek and elegant sand steeds, many wearing brightly coloured silk robes in fashions that weren't commonly seen in the court of King's Landing. The few ladies that rode with the party wore dresses in daring styles that revealed far more skin than was proper, and the Martell banners of a red sun on an orange field pierced with a golden spear were everywhere.

At the head of the party was a handsome woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, with dark skin and darker hair drawn back in a regal style. She wore a more modest gown than many of the other ladies, in red and orange silk, and though she did not wear a crown as her ancestors had done before the Targaryen conquest, she looked a queen without it.

"Princess Loreza of Dorne," The herald announced. "Her son and heir Prince Doran, and her younger son Prince Oberyn,"

The Dornish heir was a young man, not yet twenty, and though he gave a small smile in greeting, bowing to the king and queen alongside his mother - Tya found it almost jarring to see the regal-looking Loreza bow to anyone, let alone Aerys - he seemed rather reserved and careful. 

His younger brother, however, was a much bolder boy of six who moved remarkably gracefully for his age and wore an easy smile that could almost have been sweet if it weren't for his dark, watchful eyes. Princess Loreza's daughter Elia, however, was back in Sunspear; apparently, the young girl was too frail and sickly to travel such a long distance.

"A pleasure to see you in court after all this time, Princess," Aerys smiled charmingly. "And welcome, Princes Doran and Oberyn,"

"You're most kind, your Grace," Loreza replied, her smile remarkably genuine.

There had been a feast that night to welcome the Dornish retinue, planned by Aerys of course, who loved this sort of thing and was admittedly good at it. Dornish food was served for their meal. Tya tried one of the hot peppers and struggled to keep a straight face in public for the first time in years, with Jason beside her laughing at her predicament as she gulped down her own cup of water and then his own.

Besides the food, Dornish music played in the background and there were Dornish dancers for entertainment. To everyone's embarrassment and amusement, the king even wore loose layered robes in the fashion of their guests instead of his usual clothes.

It looked absurd - the material was vivid orange, which clashed greatly with his silver hair, pale skin and purple eyes - and Tya saw the young Prince Oberyn snickering until his brother nudged him in reproach. Princess Loreza, to her credit, praised Aerys' choice of clothing without batting an eye, making the king preen, but Tya caught the barely-there hint of mockery in her eye.

"Did you not fancy wearing Dornish silks like our esteemed king?" Jason murmured into her ear as they stood together at the edge hall, watching the dance floor, amusement colouring his tone. "I'm sure he'd appreciate you joining him in his enthusiastic welcome of our guests," 

It was the first chance they had to get away from the high table, and thus the first chance they had to speak somewhat openly about Aerys' choice of attire.

Tya fixed her husband with a flat look.

"He'd appreciate me dressing like that girl there," She nodded to one of the dancers, who was dressed nothing short of scandalously, her low cut, almost see-through dress barely covering her chest, with a large slit up the side to allow an almost unobstructed view of her long tanned legs. The eyes of many men in the room followed her every move; her husband made no attempt to hide that he was one of them.

"And dancing like her too, no doubt," Jason grinned. "Though I wouldn't mind that either - stiff and uptight as you are, it would be painfully amusing," The way the girl danced was more befitting of a brothel than a royal feast, though apparently they did things differently in Dorne, and women were not shamed for acting like whores.

She was about to reply to that, when they were interrupted by the loud voice of Aerys as he swooped over towards them, robes billowing and a wide smile on his face. So she subtly ground her sharp heel into her husband's foot instead.

"Let me steal my dear Lady Tya away from the Master-of-Laws," He said for the benefit of Princess Loreza, who was at his side, grabbing at her arm and tugging her away from her husband, who followed regardless. "It's time to enjoy yourself, my lord, my lady, and socialise, not discuss politics,"

Jason's smile had fixed in place, and he shot her a look of 'here we go again'.

"I thought Lord Jason was the Lady Hand's husband, your Grace?" The princess inquired politely before Tya could get a sharp word in, surprising her slightly with the use of her title that most men tended to conveniently forget. "I'm sure they have much more interesting things to discuss than politics,"

"Quite," Tya said, her tone even, disentangling her arm from the king's grip. "Your Grace, did I not request for you at the last feast to not haul me around like a child's rag doll?"

"You probably did," Aerys shrugged, unconcerned, and Loreza raised an amused eyebrow. "But I thought you two would get along. You're both women who do men's work, after all,"

Tya was used to backhanded - well, not even compliments, and did not rise to it. The Dornish princess, on the other hand...

"Thank you, your Grace," Loreza smiled like a shark. "I'm sure Lady Tya and I will get along just fine. Oh, and before I forget, you must thank Queen Rhaella for this beautiful feast. She clearly takes her queenly duties very seriously,"

Jason's lips pressed together to avoid smirking. Tya, despite herself, found herself fighting not to do the same.

"It's the king you have to thank for tonight, Princess," She said evenly.

"Yes, his Grace did a fine job," Jason nodded.

"Oh, that is a surprise!" Loreza exclaimed. "Well in that case, my humblest thanks to you, my king. You have a talent for hosting - I know of few men who can plan such a stunning feast without a woman's touch,"

Aerys' smile went rather sour, but there was nothing offensive in her words to anger at.

"Not at all,"

He did leave them after that, though, making a beeline for the most beautiful of all the Dornish dancers, dragging Jason along with him. Two sharp pairs of eyes followed them.

"Men's work," Loreza actually scoffed. "Apologies if you thought that disrespectful towards the king, Lady Tya,"

"I did," She said. "It was entertaining nonetheless,"

The princess smiled then, taking her arm in hers. Tya bristled slightly at the presumption; she had never been one of those ladies to go around hanging off the arms of her friends and giggling. She had only ever really linked arms with Genna. But she got Loreza's intention and went along with it for now, as they set off towards the doors. She was at least three inches taller than the other woman, and also two decades younger.

"I'm impressed how well you stand him," The princess said once they were clear of the hall, into much quieter corridors. "And everyone in government here, really. I remember now why I don't frequent King's Landing often - though I expected it, I forgot how irritating it is when my every decision is questioned because of what lies between my legs,"

"They don't question me anymore," Tya replied. People tended to know better after two years of her being Hand, and her piercing stare was dreaded by everyone who had ever been on the receiving end.

"I can see why," Loreza considered her. "Even in Dorne we've heard your reputation. The mysterious disappearance of Emmon Frey - not that I'm suggesting anything, but many people do - and as for the Reynes and Tarbecks... I mean this in the most complimentary way possible, but you are the most intimidating woman I have ever met,"

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that, though it did please her that a woman who seemed such a force of nature herself thought that of her.

"Aerys said much the same when he made me Hand," She replied.

"Yet he still hauls you around like a rag doll," The princess smiled faintly, echoing her words from earlier.

"He hasn't learned from my wedding night," Tya said, then realised that whilst the events of that night had been the talk of the Crownlands at the time, word probably hadn't reached as far south as Dorne. Now she would have to explain, because out of context that sounded awful. "His Grace took certain... liberties during the bedding ceremony. And ended up with a bloody lip for it,"

Loreza laughed, and she tried to surprise the surge of unease at the sound. Growing up with the entirety of the Westerlands mocking her father had made her hate laughter from most people. It still infuriated her when Jason laughed at her.

"So that's where the rumours came from," The princess said. "I thought them false, or exaggerated - did you truly bite him?" Tya nodded and she laughed again. "I'm sure it was well deserved. He has some nerve. Lucky that your husband is a forgiving man, seeing as you're clearly not a forgiving woman,"

"Jason isn't forgiving, just better at hiding it," She said. "It's nothing new besides. When we were children, Aerys wanted me as his queen. Then he married his sister like a proper Targaryen. Now he'd have me as his mistress," Her lip curled.

"Would that be so bad?" Loreza shrugged, making her eyes widen slightly. "The king is a handsome man, if irritating,"

Tya stared at her for a moment.

"Why would I lower myself to being Aerys' whore?" She asked with a note of incredulity. "I'm married, besides, and so is he,"

The princess smiled rather wickedly.

"Who says you'd be his whore?" She asked. "In your position, I would've made him mine. It's all about perspective," She laughed at the look on her face. "Perhaps that is a more Dornish attitude to have. Of course, if you love your husband that's a different story,"

Do I? She enjoyed Jason's company far more than most, certainly, and he was her equal in ways no one else truly was. He still irritated her regularly, of course, no matter how they showed a united front in public. But this wasn't the time or place for such thoughts. Tya paused before replying.

"People already claim that I only got this position from sleeping with the king," She said. "Out of earshot, of course. I remove a finger from anyone caught saying it, but they say it nonetheless,"

"Quite right," Loreza said. "But people will always talk and spread untruths. I learned to listen but not care. In the end, I'm still Princess of Dorne and have everything I want. What do I care what people think of me?"

That was... one way of looking at it. Tya would be the first to claim she didn't care for the opinions of people she deemed irrelevant, but she supposed she did, in some ways at least.

They fell into an easy silence.

"It's strange, being back here," The princess glanced around idly. "So much the same, but so much different. Of course, when I last spent any amount of time here I was only a girl, one of Queen Betha's ladies; Princess Rhaella was born two years before I left to marry. And Aegon was king at the time - I suppose a different sort of king breeds a different sort of court,"

Tya almost smiled at that.

"I served King Aegon for four years as cupbearer," She said. "He was... kind, but intelligent too," Her calling anyone kind was not normally a compliment, but she had a lot of respect for Aegon the Unlikely despite his foolishly idealistic reforms. "Like you said, a different sort of king,"

Loreza laughed.

"I thought Aerys a wise king before this visit," She said. "Mature for his age, astute and surprisingly progressive for a northerner in making you his Hand. Of course, I should have realised the only significant decision he has made was letting you rule the kingdoms for him. Oftentimes a woman's touch is needed, particularly with a man that proud - he would feel more threatened taking orders from a lord rather than a lady, I believe. It lets him kid himself that he's in control. How could a woman outshine a king, after all?" She eyed her meaningfully.

That was perhaps the most accurate assessment of Aerys Tya had heard from anyone save Jason, who had been his close friend - well, companion - for years.

"I'm hardly going to complain," She said. "If the king wishes to plan tourneys and host balls then it is simply my duty to take over the less entertaining aspects of ruling,"

"You look more a king on that great ugly throne than he does," Loreza scoffed, waving a hand. "And you know it, too. A good thing you married such an accommodating man - you'd have been wasted as the lady of some lordly house. Or even as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,"

Jason might be accommodating in public, and show her every respect due as Hand of the King - not caring for any mockery this earned him from others, as the man ruled by his wife - but he was far from derential in private. Tya would never admit it, but while she ruled the kingdoms, in some ways he ruled her. Her smiles were his, he knew her better than anyone, could get her to concede like no one else could.

She said none of this, however. 

From that evening onwards, Tya supposed that Loreza Martell was her friend. They were similar in many ways - both powerful women, intelligent, no-nonsense and intimidating to many - though the Dornish princess was far warmer and more charming, and had rather more... open views on things like what went on in a lady's bedchamber.

Tya had never really had a friend who was a woman before, aside from Rhaella and her own sister Genna, but Loreza was different in that she felt more of an equal. Though Tya enjoyed the queen's calm and pleasant company, and was entertained by her sister's brashness and bold nature, she related far more to the Dornish Princess.

Even after the Dornish party returned to Sunspear, they still kept in regular correspondence via letters. Both Dorne and the Westerlands had benefitted from this friendship too, given that both sides were more open to arranging certain trade deals, often to the detriment of the Reach given it was surrounded to the north and south.

Loreza was one of the first people Tya wrote to of her pregnancy.

It hadn't been a sudden realisation, more the hint of a possibility that had grown slowly into hard fact. She felt rather sick at the thought, a feeling she recognised as fear and loathed.

Tya was not a fool. Though her nausea in the mornings could have been passed off as a minor ailment, the fact she had missed her cycles for two months running was rather telling that she was with child.

She had never thought much about becoming a mother, other than that she would eventually have to. But it had always been a distant certainty, one that - particularly with Jason - she would not have to face for a while. Her duties as Hand were far too important to set aside to go into confinement; it would have the lords muttering all over again that a woman was not fit for such a position of power, if she had to take so many months away from her work to raise a child.

There and then, she resolved to herself that she would do no such thing. No matter how gruelling pregnancy was, she would grit her teeth and push on with her duties, running the realm right up until the day the child was born.

"You seem distracted," Jason asked her as they dined together. "Not irritated, which is strange - it can't have been something I did, then, or the king,"

"It is your fault," She said. "I'm with child," She saw no point in keeping it some great secret. But seeing the small smile cross her husband's face, for the first time she felt a tiny stab of satisfaction at the fact she was pregnant.

"Poor baby," He said, though the smile didn't leave his face. "With us as parents. Imagine a daughter with your ferocity and my charm - horrifying,"

"A daughter?" She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know that. I'd rather have a son, besides. With your sharp tongue, and my pride," She paused. "It's to be kept secret until it's too obvious to hide," Women lost children all the time in the early stages of pregnancy, and she could not stand the idea of pitying looks and sympathetic comments from other women, along with the muttering behind her back that the stress of her work had doubtless caused her to miscarry, and wouldn't she be better off focusing on raising a family from now on. "And I will work as long as possible, to be back just as fast,"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," He said. "The small council will likely end up meeting around your bed, before this child is born,"

She smiled faintly at the idea of that, setting down her eating knife, a little less tense.

"The maester says the child is due in seven moons. All is healthy so far, although it's too early to tell too much," 

"It's strange, hearing you talk like that," Jason said. "As though I should thank my darling lady wife for giving me the gift of an heir, like a real lord would,"

"It's more my heir than yours," She glared at him. "I'll be remembered as the first Lady Hand. You'll be remembered as my husband,"

"Thank you for reminding me so gently, Tya," He scoffed slightly, but she knew he wasn't offended. She doubted she'd offended him with anything she'd said in their lives. "So you'd rather have a son, then?"

"I wasn't aware that you could choose," She thought for a moment. "But yes,"

There was more of a future available to a son of hers. Although both she and Jason had places on the Small Council, and would always have a home at Casterly Rock if the king's favour suddenly turned, they did not stand to inherit any land or titles. Her son could be a knight, and rise up to lead the army of the Westerlands alongside Kevan's future sons, like Tygett or Gerion. He could go into politics like his parents. He could marry an heiress and have a keep of his own, for although she had no lands, her name carried weight and she was the second most powerful person in the realm.

Her daughter would simply be married off to some lord. Tya didn't dare hope that any future king, Rhaegar or otherwise, would make another woman their Hand. Though Aerys had many faults, he had overlooked her gender in that regard and given her a high position as she was the best suited to the job.

They had also been friends since childhood, and he had desired her for almost that long. The circumstances were rather unique.

"I wonder what they'll look like," Jason remarked dryly.

"I wonder. Dark-haired and blue-eyed, no doubt,"

"I never knew you fucked Steffon Baratheon, my lady?"

She hit his arm for that, though his stupid comment had made her think for the first time what the baby would look like. Golden-haired and green-eyed of course, but what about beyond that? 

Her husband was better looking than she was herself, but she had been called pretty her whole life so the child would hardly be ugly. She was tall for a woman and he was tall for a man, so any son or daughter of theirs would also be above average height. Would they have Jason's sharp smile, her own piercing stare, his high cheekbones, her cut-glass jaw?

Either way, they would be her child.

That realisation hit her harder than when she realised she was pregnant. The child inside her would be hers, and she would fight tooth and nail for them to do well in this world. They would be strong and brave and beautiful, and no one would ever laugh at them. Her son would be a great warrior, and her daughter would be a queen.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

Tya was true to her word. She did not make a single mention of her pregnancy to anyone but her family, Rhaella and Loreza, and even when it became too obvious to pass off as a little extra weight, no one else dared ask about her protruding midsection.

Except for Aerys, of course.

"Are you going to keep acting as though your belly hasn't swelled to twice the size?" He said to her one morning. "Will I need to find another Hand to do your job while you go and whelp a new Lannister?"

He meant it as a joke but she could sense the undercurrent of annoyance underneath. It was impossible to tell if that was from the inconvenience any absence of hers would cause him with regard to ruling, or from the fact there was now actual proof she lay with her husband. In all honesty, it was likely both, and either way irritated her.

No doubt if she took any time away from her duties, there would be people everywhere using the fact as proof that women could not have such huge responsibilities, and that Aerys should keep on any temporary male replacement he named.

"No, your Grace," Tya fixed him with an even stare. "Being with child does not affect my ability to do my duties as Hand," She was constantly tired, her feet hurt, she was often nauseous and needed to visit the privy at least every hour, but she let none of that show. Her mind was as sharp as ever, which was what mattered.

"Good," The king seemed satisfied, but then smirked. "I heard that pregnant women are overemotional and prone to hysteria - overemotional for you would just make you a normal woman,"

"I somewhat doubt I will start weeping during a council meeting," She said dryly. "Nor throw a fit of hysteria on the Iron Throne,"

"Best hope not," Aerys snorted. "You'd slice yourself to ribbons," He held up his own hand, which bore the usual scabs and scars from where he cut himself on his own throne at least twice a week.

It was moments like these when she remembered why she hadn't minded his company when they were younger, even enjoyed it at times. Then she thought back to every slight he had given her, as well as the fiasco that was her bedding ceremony, and was reminded why that was no longer the case. When Aerys was in a good mood he was often tolerable, even good company, but with his mercurial nature, that could change in the blink of an eye, making him truly unbearable.

"There is no need to worry, your Grace," She reiterated. "You will not notice any difference in my work until the day I give birth,"

Sure enough, there was no difference all the way through Tya's pregnancy. She had no hysterical fits on the Iron Throne, did not burst into tears at any point, and ignored the well-meant but patronisingly-given advice of Grand Maester Pycelle that she should go into confinement, or at least relinquish some of her more stressful duties to her husband, in order to rest so that she and the child remained healthy.

Rhaella put it best, she thought.

"I spend half my life in confinement," The queen had said rather sadly when Tya mentioned the maester's increasing concern over her. "And I still lose every single child I bear. The only one who lived past six months has been Rhaegar, who was born after I was carried out of Summerhall as the palace burned behind me. I truly think it will make no difference, Tya, and don't let the men tell you otherwise,"

"I won't be taking advice from anyone who can't list bearing a child among their achievements," She replied, and Rhaella had smiled, amused.

Tya had felt an uncharacteristic stab of sympathy for the queen then, who had to watch her grow big with child whilst she herself suffered a series of miscarriages, stillbirths and cot-deaths since the birth of her first child six years ago.

Privately Tya thought that the stress Aerys was mounting on the queen to birth a girl, a bride for Rhaegar, was partially the cause. Not to mention the fact that Rhaella had birthed her first child at fourteen, which may have caused enough damage to prevent her from conceiving again. 

It certainly did not help how increasingly rough the king was with his wife in their chambers, even when she was with child. She herself had only found out about that after a rather awkward encounter one morning.

"Oh, Tya" The queen had remarked rather sadly, noting the bruising on her wrists where her sleeves had pulled up slightly. "If even you can't escape it, then surely no woman can. I'd have thought Lord Jason would treat his wife better than to leave that kind of mark," 

At that, Tya had almost blushed.

"That's not - Jason doesn't treat me badly," She hurriedly pulled her sleeves down - remembering the hardly unpleasant occasion when her wrists had been pinned above her head - but then narrowed her eyes. "Though that means the king leaves you with bruises,"

After chuckling slightly at the realisation that she had somewhat flustered the usually stone-faced Hand, Rhaella had reluctantly shown Tya some of the marks, though begged her not to go to the king about it, claiming that he didn't directly strike her, he was just... rough. 

So far Tya had kept her word, knowing that her involvement would do little that earn the queen Aerys' ire, and it wasn't her marriage to get involved in. That didn't mean she was pleased about it. A king who would be so rough with his wife was hardly the most stable person to rule the kingdoms.

*

Tya's waters broke in the privacy of the Tower of the Hand, just as she was about to attend the Small Council meeting that morning. She was very thankful for the fact she had not left yet; the mortification of something like that happening in public was the one thing that had concerned her about not going into confinement.

Within minutes, she had been assisted up to her chambers and the whole tower was a flurry of activity, maids hurrying to fetch rags and bowls of water, midwives barking orders and Maester Pycelle appearing shortly to oversee it all. Jason had wanted to wait in the tower but Pycelle assured him that there was a long time yet before the babe was born, and Tya had agreed.

"Go to the meeting," She told him. "The Starks are here, remember, and Aerys can't be trusted not to start a war with Lord Rickard," Rickard Stark had come down from Winterfell with his young heir Brandon in a rare visit south. "It'll only be a few hours long, and you'll have nothing to do here,"

"My mother only took a few hours to birth Stafford and I," He said, but relented. "Part of me wants to be in the room with you - I doubt you'll scream that loud again, and I want to savour the novelty,"

"If you carry on like that, I won't even allow you into the tower,"

Her husband left with a laugh. Good. The fewer people in the birthing chambers, the better.

Giving birth was far longer and more frustrating than she had imagined. More painful, too, despite being able to remember the screams of her mother as Genna and Tygett came into the world. Tya tried to grit her teeth and bear it in silence but she had never been in more agony in her life and even she could not keep from letting out small cries and gasps of pain, nor from taking it out on those attending her.

"I am already pushing," She practically snarled at the round-faced midwife, who seemed amazingly unbothered by her glare and remarkably patient too.

"Then push harder," The woman had replied flatly, and though it may have been out of sheer desperation for this pain to end, Tya had for once done as she was told.

She was glad that only half a dozen people were seeing her like this. Many lords seemed to forget she was a woman after interacting with her for any amount of time - that was the only way their pride would allow them to take orders from her - but this whole ordeal did nothing but remind her that she could succumb to the dangers of childbed like any woman. Like her own mother hand while birthing Gerion.

Jason was not in the room at any point and for that she was glad. She didn't want him to see her like this. She didn't even want to see the gruesome scene between her legs herself. Though by all accounts her husband was pacing around outside the door, having returned from the meeting an hour or so after noon. Despite her claims she wanted him nowhere near, she took some comfort in knowing that he was just the other side of the door.

Towards the end, Tya became aware that one of the midwives was muttering under her breath to Pycelle.

"What's going on?" She attempted her tone to be sharp but likely just sounded exhausted. "I'm not bleeding to death, am I?"

"Not at all, my lady," Pycelle immediately soothed and she riled slightly at his tone. "All is well. But I think there are two children in there, not just one,"

Twins... gods. She hoped it was a boy and a girl. They had agreed upon Jaime for a son and Cerelle for a girl, not expecting that both names would be needed. It had been hard enough to choose those as it was. Jason had liked Myrielle for a girl, and there was no chance any daughter of Tya's was going to be named that, whilst she had liked the idea of Gerold for a boy, after their grandfather, but he thought it too much of an old man's name.

The pain towards the end truly was excruciating, but then the sounds of a baby's wail filled the air and a small wrinkled red thing was whisked away to be bathed and swaddled. Another quickly followed it, so suddenly that it took her a moment to realise it was all over.

"The second one isn't crying," Concern seeped into Tya's voice; she was too tired to hide it. "It's not dead, is it?" Right now she doubted she'd be able to contain her tears if it was, and she hadn't cried in years, not since her mother died.

"No, no, milady," The midwife smiled down at her. "He's perfectly healthy and breathing, just a little quiet,"

"A son?" She felt herself smile back, then realised what she was doing but hadn't the heart to straighten her face.

"Aye, milady," The woman said. "He came out holding his sister's foot and all, a protective brother already. Not that she'll need it, by the sounds of things. She's got a right pair of lungs on her, your little lady,"

"A true lion," Pycelle praised, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact he was still between her legs waiting for the afterbirth. "Both of them,"

"Bring them - bring them here," She hated the way her voice faltered, but no one seemed to care, or even notice. Perhaps this was what it was like for normal women all the time; no one there to pounce and call you unstable or overemotional or unsuited for 'men's work' the moment you showed a shred of weakness.

"Of course, milady," The midwife left her side and came back with a bundle in her arms, one of the younger maids following her with the second child, who was still crying noisily. "Here's your son,"

She passed the baby carefully down to her and Tya was suddenly struck by a stab of panic, not knowing how to hold an infant - she'd always turned her nose up at holding her siblings and cousins as a girl - but reached out to take him nonetheless, with more care than she'd ever held anything with, settling him down in her arms.

It felt surreal, like she was play-acting, for surely she could not be a mother? But this tiny thing here was hers. There was a thin layer of fuzzy gold hair on the baby's head and his eyes were already green. He does look like a Jaime, she thought, stroking his face with one finger which was soon gripped in a tiny fist.

"Pass me my daughter," She murmured, and when the girl was handed to her she stopped crying suddenly, staring up at her with the same wide green eyes. Tya smiled and settled her down beside her son, identical as they were. No, Cerelle isn't quite right for you...

"Would you like to clean up a little, milady, before Lord Jason comes in?" The midwife asked as Pycelle began to pack up his instruments and the bloody rags were cleared away. "Or would you rather us give you time to rest and we bring the children out to him? You have just birthed twins after all - no mean feat for a first birth. I must say, you bore it well - most women scream and curse something awful," Most women would scream and curse at Aerys for half the things he says. Or Jason, for that matter.

"My husband can come in here," Tya said after a moment's thought. "But I will wash first,"

She reluctantly passed the children off to the midwives in order to wash herself and change into a nightgown that was less... sweaty and covered in blood, whilst the maids changed the bedsheets. Standing was difficult, but aside from wincing, she did not show it, though was relieved to get back into bed as soon as everything was ready. She was glad when the midwife passed her both babies again, now dressed in matching white smocks, as the maid went to open the door.

"I didn't bleed to death," She said as her husband stepped inside, everyone else quietly filing out. 

Jason smiled faintly, moving to sit on the bed beside her.

"I can see that," He held out his arms and Tya awkwardly lifted up their son and passed him over. He looked amused at the ungainly way she did so. "And there I had feared you wouldn't be a natural mother,"

"Be quiet," She glared, and he chuckled, taking the baby from her. "That's the boy - they look the same,"

There was a pause, as Jason glanced between the child he held and the girl in her arms.

"His eyes are slightly lighter," He concluded. "And her nose is a shade smaller," 

Tya squinted and could almost see it.

"If you say so," There was a pause. "Do you think the names we chose before fit them?"

"No. Let's call them Jason and Tya. Or perhaps Aerys and Ellyn?" He smiled at the look she gave him, as their son gripped his finger and their daughter let a small noise. "Jaime for him is perfect,"

"Yes," Tya agreed. "Not Cerelle for her, though. It's too... soft,"

Her husband considered that.

"How about Cersei,"

"Jaime and Cersei," She considered. "Yes," That sounded right.

"May he grow to be a great warrior, unlike his father," Jason smiled. "And she to be formidable, just like her mother,"

"A fine thing to call your wife, who just birthed your two children,"

"As if you didn't take that as a compliment,"

Tya looked down at her daughter in her arms. Cersei. She would make sure this girl grew knowing that her future didn't have to be simply bearing sons for some lord and running his household. Perhaps she could be queen if Rhaella didn't bear Aerys a daughter in the next few years, though Tya wasn't sure if she wanted that for a daughter of hers. Though Rhaegar was a pleasant child, Aerys had been pleasant and charming enough in his youth, and she would never sentence little Cersei to a life like Rhaella's.

"If anyone tries to hurt or laugh at either of them," She said honestly. "I'll tear their whole world apart,"

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

266AC

Despite the fact that she had given birth not too long before, Tya returned home to Casterly Rock early in the year of 266AC to attend her brother's wedding. She knew that Kevan would much rather wait to find a woman he truly cared for, and if he was a second or third son perhaps he may have done, however the fact he was heir made that impossible.

Thankfully he understood that, and had agreed to wed Lady Morya Brax, sister to Lord Andros, with little fuss. It was a good thing for him to form close relationships with the bannermen, given his father's reputation for being weak and his sister's reputation for ruthlessness; it wouldn't do to be outshone by either.

Tya didn't regret what she had done at Castamere and Tarbeck Hall. It had sent a message, both on behalf of her house and of herself. She had always deferred to Kevan's leadership in public, whilst advising him in private, to avoid the lords thinking him a puppet for his elder sister. At least with regard to matters in the Westerlands. She was still Hand of the King, the second most powerful person in the Seven Kingdoms.

Kevan would earn the respect of the bannermen through wise and strong leadership once he became lord, and was already well-regarded having led the fight against the Reynes and Tarbecks. He was no pushover in the least and wouldn't hesitate to enforce the best interests of House Lannister. He just wasn't as ruthless as Tya was. In that sense, it was best she remained in King's Landing as much as possible once their father died, lest the lords started to whisper that it was her who really ran the west, as they whispered it was her who really ran the kingdoms.

Jaime and Cersei were still infants, quite young to travel such a distance, but Tya was loathe to leave them in the Red Keep for the months it would take her and Jason to travel west and back. It was summer besides, and she wished for them to see Casterly Rock, their parents' home and theirs too. Jaime would have to foster with Kevan when he grew up a little, perhaps as a page.

It wasn't only Kevan's wedding that they made the journey for either, though that was a magnificent and regal affair in itself. Genna had got married herself only a month after their brother. It was well due; her younger sister was one-and-twenty, after all. Kevan had not pushed any of his siblings to marry yet, despite Tya's advice otherwise.

The wedding was a slightly more relaxed but joyous affair seeing as Genna got along well with her betrothed, Lord Leo Lefford. Both husband and wife were good-humoured and witty, though he was quiet to complement her loud brashness. And being Lady of the Golden Tooth was a fitting position for a daughter of House Lannister. 

Much better than being the wife of the second son of the Twins. Even if Lord Tytos had been a shining example of a Lord Paramount in every other sense, Tya would never have forgiven her father for that.

Tygett and Gerion both remained unbetrothed, though that was not such a great issue for now. Tyg was only sixteen and Gerion a little boy. Both had seemed glad to see her when she arrived at the Rock, though Gerion showed it much more openly, embracing her in front of everyone; his smile had been too wide for her to push him away with a sharp reprimand, so she had stiffly returned it. Tygett seemed very happy with the verbal greeting they shared, though was pleased with her comment praising his martial prowess, which Kevan had written of.

All of her siblings seemed enchanted by the little twins.

"Oh they're a perfect mix of both of you," Genna had cooed as she held Cersei for the first time, the baby babbling up at her; already the little girl was starting to understand basic words, which Maester Pycelle told Tya was remarkable. Most babes didn't start speaking until they were nine months old at least. As for Jaime, he had been crawling at six months, though he was slower to speak, as his sister was slower to move by herself.

"It's strange, seeing you a mother," Tygett had said in that serious manner of his, then flushed as Kevan shot him a stern look. "Well it is! It's no insult,"

"He's right, Tya," Her sister admitted with a grin. "You've never been very motherly,"

"I'm not very motherly now," She said flatly. She had nursemaids that got the twins dressed, changed their soiled clothes, fed them, put them to bed, and got up when they cried in the night. She spent most of her days buried in work and meetings, only really seeing her children in the mornings, evenings and around lunchtime. Jason was much the same, although he got to spend slightly more time with them than she did.

"You are a better mother than I expected," Jason remarked later on in their chambers.

"And what did you expect?" Tya raised an eyebrow. "The evil witch that some people claim I am, sacrificing her children to heathen gods?"

The twins had not gone to bed yet, and Cersei was tugging on her skirts to get Tya to lift her into her lap, whilst Jaime played with his toy knights and horses on the rug at their feet. 

"No, you're not coming up here again," She addressed her daughter sternly. "I put you on the floor because you kept pulling my hair. If you didn't do such a thing then you might have stayed,"

Cersei pouted, which worked on everyone but her parents. Tya simply raised an eyebrow and the girl scowled, though shuffled over to Jaime and grabbed one of his horses, waving it around in her baby fist. Another child may have been angered by this, but her son simply smiled and didn't try to grab the toy back.

"Well, that you actually like the children surprised me a little," Her husband smirked slightly as she glared. "I wasn't sure if you would. Although it does amuse me when you speak to them like they're impertinent supplicants to the crown,"

Her lips twitched at that.

"How else will they learn the proper way to speak to people?"

"What, like everyone who isn't a Lannister is worth less than the dirt on the bottom of your shoe?" 

"There's some Lannisters that fit in that category," She replied. "Your brother, for one. And my father,"

"I can't disagree with you there," Jason grimaced. "I had forgotten how thick-headed Stafford was. I suppose we're lucky your father didn't try to betrothe Cersei to a Clegane," 

"Don't," Her eyes narrowed, still having not forgiven the man for marrying her to a Frey. 

"There's that look," Her husband said with a faint leer. "You don't look at me like that as much as you used to. I wouldn't say that's a bad thing, but I miss it on occasion,"

"Miss being looked at with scathing dislike?" 

"You make it rather appealing. Perhaps that's why Aerys still longs after you, you glare at him often enough,"

"What is wrong with you," Tya tutted in disgust. 

She found herself getting to her feet to call the maids in, however, to put the twins to bed. She made to return to her seat by the fire, only for her husband to pull her into his lap with a small noise of protest.

"Was that necessary?" She turned to see him looking rather pleased with himself.

"I'd say so," One of Jason's hands moved to the laces on her dress, whilst the other held her jaw, tilting her face to kiss him before breaking apart. "There's a certain joy in treating a highborn lady like a tavern wench," 

She really did protest at that, but he silenced her with another kiss.

*

Shortly after they had returned to King's Landing, Tya received the raven informing her that Kevan's wife was with child. It was rather early to announce, seeing how many women miscarried during the first months of pregnancy, but good news nonetheless.

Thankfully, six months after the news of Lady Morya's pregnancy came a letter announcing the birth of a son, whom her brother had named Gerold, after their grandfather. An old man's name, Jason had scoffed when he heard, earning a glare. 

The boy seemed strong and healthy, despite the fact his mother had scarcely survived the birth and had been advised by the maesters to not bear any children for a while. Odd, seeing how Brax women were usually quite strong and hearty, and Morya herself had good childbearing hips, though perhaps that didn't make a lot of difference. Tya's own were narrow enough that the maester had warned her birthing may be difficult, but had caused no issue in the end.

Regardless of his wife's health, she was gladdened that her brother had a male heir, strengthening his position in the eyes of the lords. Though the fact that Morya Brax wouldn't be producing any more heirs for the next few years did solidify that Tygett and Gerion both needed betrothals, to keep the faith of the lords. Tya wrote this to Kevan in their weekly correspondence, and he agreed, albeit warily, knowing the trouble that would follow.

Genna had said in the past that she thought Tygett fancied men instead, and Tya had brushed it off as a mindless jape of course, but the explosive reaction their brother to being told of his betrothal to Lady Alinor Lydden did make her wonder. So long as he did his duty, Tya didn't particularly care. It wasn't as though he was to be immediately pressed into marriage, besides; Alinor was only three-and-ten, so there would be no wedding for several years. He had time to do whatever he pleased in the meantime, so long as it didn't shame their house.

Surprisingly, Gerion took the news of his own betrothal to the five-year-old Lady Elissa Serrett slightly better, but that may have been because he was an amiable - if reckless - boy of eleven, to whom marriage seemed a far off thing. Perhaps he'd give them trouble in a few years.

But with Lannisters married or betrothed into four of the most powerful families in the west - with the exception of Tya of course, but that was for strategic reasons as well as personal - and with the blood of most of the other major houses already in their veins - Tya's own mother had been a Marbrand - their position was a lot more secure than it had been in years. Lord Tytos mostly left the running of his lands to his elder son and daughter since the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion, retreating feebly back into his mistress' arms, which was humiliating but at least he could cause no more trouble by interfering.

Dare I say, Tya thought, as she watched Jason swing a laughing Jaime around in his arms whilst Cersei sat at her own side, seeming intent on showing her mother her latest game with the toy horses and dolls. Things were going very well indeed.

"Stop poking me with that thing and I'll listen to you," She told her daughter. Cersei might not have understood her words fully but she understood the intention, withdrawing the wooden horse from where its pointed leg had been digging into Tya's rib. "Thank you. Now show me again,"

Smiling, her daughter began babbling, animating the wooden figures. It was nonsense but Tya found she didn't mind paying attention, though kept a watchful eye on her husband and Jaime.

"Do be careful, Jason," She said dryly. "I'd rather you didn't break our son - he's only just had his first birthday,"

"Thanks for reminding me, lady wife," He replied in a similar tone. "I was just going to let him go in midair and hope for the best,"

Tya tutted and looked away to hide a smile.

*

267AC

Tya had not been planning to visit Casterly Rock that year, however the news of her father's death made it unavoidable.

She wasn't quite sure what she felt, having read Kevan's letter. She had actually sneered whilst reading how Lord Tytos' heart had burst whilst climbing the stairs to visit his mistress. Her father had married her off to an unworthy Frey, humiliated their house for many years, and shamed his family in countless ways. Even her beloved mother had disdained him, often in front of a young Tya. She knew she had shamed him in return, given his soft morals and her brutal response to the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion.

Yet he was her father nonetheless, and though she wouldn't quite say she was sorry he was gone - Kevan was now lord, which was better for everyone - she wasn't exactly celebrating either.

She made the journey alone; well, with a contingent of guards in tow, but Jason and the twins stayed in King's Landing. Her husband had seen the look in her eye and almost eagerly asked if he should come along too, but she had refused. She didn't want the twins to be without both parents, and neither did she want them to come with her. It would be easier, what she had to do, without her children there.

Of course, Tya had missed the funeral, which had been held in the days following Lord Tytos' death. That wasn't what she came to do, however. After a few busy days of helping Kevan get everything in order and take control - which he was capable of doing alone, her presence just sped things along - she climbed the stairs her father had died on.

"I knew you'd come to gloat," The candlemaker's daughter tried to put on a show of bravado as Tya silently stepped into her apartments, though her eyes were wide and her voice slightly shrill. She's afraid, and rightly so. "Your own father dead, and I bet you're nothing short of delighted,"

Tya wasn't going to waste her breath on this impertinent wretch. One glance over her shoulder and two guards stepped into the room.

"I'll have my mother's jewels back," She said coldly. The woman opened her mouth, but she raised an eyebrow, effectively cutting her off. "Now. Or these men will take them from you,"

"But half of them jewels are mine," The woman glared, though her eyes darted nervously between the two guards. "Milord Tytos had them made for me,"

"Made with Lannister gold," Tya said dismissively. "I'll have all those gowns back, too, and these rooms. Whores shouldn't be swanning around pretending to be ladies,"

The candlemaker's daughter looked openly scared, now, unable to hide it any longer.

"I'm no whore," She tried to sound strong but only sounded pleading instead. "And I've nothing else to wear - I burnt what I wore before,"

"A pity," Tya's lip curled, and she signalled to the guards, who strode forward and seized the woman by both arms. She shrieked and struggled, eyes wild, but that didn't stop her being dragged away. Tya followed, raising her voice to be heard over her protests. "For too long, my father let you whisper poison in his ear, drape yourself in finery and order the servants around like you were the Lady of Casterly Rock. Today you will be exposed before the entire city as the treacherous whore that you are. A walk of shame through Lannisport to the docks, then you may board any ship you desire, so long as you never return to the Westerlands again,"

The woman had given up any bravado or pride, now.

"Mercy, milady," She sobbed, having dropped the highborn accent she'd been putting on. "Please, I did nothing wrong, just what Lord Tytos asked of me. Was it so wrong to want to wear pretty dresses and be a fine lady? That's all I ever wanted, I swear. I'm sorry I was so rude to you. Mercy, please,"

"This is mercy," Tya said coldly. "I could've had you whipped, your tongue removed, your head cut off. All you'll have to do is walk through the city,"

And so she did. Tya watched her set off through the streets - guarded so the mob didn't tear her apart, as the commoners were wont to do - as naked as her nameday, sobbing and pleading all the while. The good people of Lannisport came out in their droves as they realised what was going on, laughing, hurling insults and jeers, even stones and rotten vegetables. Many of them might resent the highborn, but not near so much as they resented one of their own who rose up beyond her station.

She didn't stay for the whole thing, simply gave instructions for the whore to be seen onto a ship leaving Lannisport, and banished on pain of death.

"Was that truly necessary?" Her cousin and goodbrother, Stafford, asked with an expression of distaste on his face as she dismounted without help in the courtyard upon returning to Casterly Rock.

Tya turned on him with a cold stare, which he didn't hold for very long, looking over her head instead.

"It sent a message,"

"It certainly did," He snorted. "Tell me, do you think Kevan would have done the same to that girl if you had stayed in King's Landing?"

"No," She replied honestly. "But he would have banished her. He's not so unlike me - do you hear him disagree with what I did?"

"I don't hear much from him at all when you're around, for when you come to visit he turns into that little boy being bossed around by his big sister once again," The man said, a hint of scorn in his tone.

"In that case, does my presence turn you into a blundering fool?"

Stafford's lip curled.

"I don't know how my brother stands you," He shook his head. "Cold shrew that you are. I feel sorry for Jason, sharing a bed with an unnatural woman who murdered her first husband, drowned one castle of women and children and burned another to the ground,"

She scoffed a little at that. Men always lashed out with something unrelated and designed to hurt when they had no answer to your point. Besides, Jason had a cruel streak too, just hid it better. 

"I wouldn't dish out petty insults so readily. You said it yourself, that I have Lord Lannister's ear. I also have the king's, who is considerably less tolerant,"

"From what I hear, you've had more of the king than that,"

Tya was silent for a moment, which Stafford apparently took as victory, moving as though to leave.

"Careful," She said dangerously softly. They locked eyes for a moment, that one word enough to unnerve him, before she turned on her heel and left.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 7th Jan 2022

268AC

Tya was not particularly thrilled when she learned she was pregnant again. Aerys had been growing more and more... abrasive as the years passed, towards her in particular. He had heard the snide whispers that it was his Lady Hand who ruled the kingdoms in truth, whilst the king drank and whored and commissioned plays and paintings, and of course took this out on Tya.

Nothing drastic, for he understood well enough that she was the best person for the job and performed her duties better than almost every Hand before her. Aerys didn't tend to interfere much in her day-to-day running of the kingdoms, thankfully. 

But there was certainly a sizeable part of the king that resented Tya for not having indulged his obvious fancy for her after almost fifteen years of friendship, and was glad for an excuse to send snide or crude remarks her way during small council meetings, or making a point of overruling her publicly about inconsequential matters, or be even more obstinate and foolish when it came to ideas she suggested.

Given the current situation with Aerys, it was no time for her to be bed bound for any considerable amount of time. She could put up with minor slights and scorn from the king, but could not afford to miss any more of her duties than completely necessary, lest the other lords start to talk, and plot about how to twist the king's apparent growing animosity towards his Hand to their advantage.

So, like with her first pregnancy, Tya remained out of confinement until the very day she went into labour. This time it was quite literally just after she had finished holding court, sitting the Iron Throne herself as Aerys had apparently come down with a head cold which left him bed-bound all day. Having felt the first stirrings of labour since she woke up that morning - and having brushed it off - Tya had left the hall and rounded a corner into a blessedly quiet corridor when the now-familiar feeling of her waters breaking came over her.

She was rushed to the Tower of the Hand by those attending her; or rather, she walked briskly there herself, refusing to be carried by either of their guardsmen - Jason hadn't offered - as the pain was nowhere near that bad yet.

This birth was much easier than Jaime and Cersei's had been, perhaps because it was her second, or perhaps because it was just one baby, not two. Unlike the twins, her infant daughter was born with a fine fuzz of red hair - like Tya's own mother, Lady Jeyne - though her eyes were a brilliant green colour. Rohanne, Tya had named her before Jason even entered the room, after their grandmother who also shared the same hair colour.

Her husband had brought the children with him to meet Rohanne, and though Tya hadn't requested their presence, not particularly wanting them to see her so exhausted and not put together, when they both ran in she found she didn't mind at all.

Jaime seemed fascinated with his new baby sister, smiling at the child and extending his chubby three-year-old hand. Cersei had sulked initially, saying that she didn't want a sister, that she didn't want to share Mother and Father and Jaime with anyone, until Jason had coaxed her out of her mood by saying surely little Rohanne would grow to look up to her as she was the elder sister, and would follow her example. The girl had brightened then, warily stepping forward and even cracking a small smile when the baby had grabbed her finger.

"You're surprisngly good at manipulating children," She told her husband.

"It's not so different from dealing with the small council," He had shrugged.

Three days of Jason reporting back to her on the goings-on at court later, Tya was out of bed and back to work herself. Her first day back on the council was the same day the king returned to his duties as well.

"Fully recovered, your Grace?" She enquired rather dryly as Aerys entered the room. In answer to her question, the king blew noisily on a handkerchief drawn from his pocket.

"No," He sniffed. "I still feel like death. The last few days have been miserable,"

Tya glanced at Jason, which was a mistake as her husband was clearly trying not to laugh. She found herself biting back a smile as the king sat.

"A shame," She said, sitting down herself and determinedly not wincing at the pain. "It must have been hard for you,"

Aerys narrowed his eyes suspiciously, wondering if she was mocking him, but her stony expression must have convinced him otherwise. Either way, he seemed to realise that she had just given birth not three days before, and he was complaining of a head cold.

"I heard you had a daughter," He adopted the same grudging tone he used whenever he spoke of her children with Jason. "Rhaella sends her congratulations,"

"My thanks, but I saw her Grace yesterday," The queen had visited her in her rooms and cooed over little Rohanne, though there was a look of longing in the woman's sad eyes; Rhaella had still not managed to conceive a child after Prince Rhaegar's birth nearly ten years ago.

"Hm," Aerys grumbled. "You should give her some advice on childbearing, seeing as you've popped out three healthy babes with no issue at all and left your bed days later,"

She was very tempted to reply to that with 'well the realm won't run itself' but knew better.

Tya had previously said to her friend - rather bluntly, but the queen was used to it - that her fertility problems were likely due to being wedded, bedded and birthing her first child at the age of fourteen, much too young as everyone agreed. Not that that was Rhaella's fault; the rather bitter look that overcame the woman's normally carefully polished expression showed that she blamed her parents for that still. And Aerys; trying to constantly force a pregnancy after a miscarriage every year was surely not healthy either.

"I wouldn't have said popped out," Her lip curled slightly at the rather crude analogy. 

The king, rather worryingly, smirked.

"It's hard to picture you screaming and crying in the birthing bed like any other woman," He said. "Perhaps next time you're ready to whelp another landless Lannister, I'll wander past to listen,"

At least two members of the small council - sat there silently, wondering how yet another tense conversation between King and Hand would play out - winced. Most ladies would have been rightly unsettled by that comment. Jason's eyes had narrowed, though he knew better than to challenge him, knowing it would only make it worse.

Tya was used to it from Aerys, but that didn't mean it didn't rile her. More so the reminder that her children would inherit nothing than the weird suggestion, though that was disturbing the more she thought on it.

"Please don't," Was her only reply, tone considerably colder. She had prepared for Aerys to lash out in response, though thankfully he just laughed.

"You're so easy to anger," The king blew his nose again, tossing the very much used handkerchief to an attending servant, who rather admirably only showed disgust for a fraction of a second. "On with the meeting then,"

*

270AC

The good news was that Kevan's wife Lady Morya had finally given birth to a second child that year. The bad news was that the child was a girl (named Janei), who was small and rather frail, and that it was a miracle Morya had survived the birth given how it had completely devastated her body. She would be unable to bear any more children or even get pregnant again.

A son and a daughter for Kevan was better than no heirs at all, but it wasn't ideal. For this reason, Tya managed to get her brother Tygett's marriage pushed forward a year; the bride was now six-and-ten, there were no real excuses not to.

Tyg's face was stormy throughout his wedding, particularly when he glanced (glared) at Kevan and Tya, however he seemed to bear no resentment to his young wife, Alinor Lydden, and thankfully the pair seemed to get along rather well. Whether he was interested in women or not, hopefully her brother would do his duty and get at least one son on the girl. His children would be next in line after Kevan's, after all.

As a favour to her younger brother - not an apology - and an attempt to increase the Lannister presence at court, Tya pushed to name Tygett as master-at-arms at the Red Keep shortly after the wedding. The appointment was all but finalised until Aerys got wind of it and instead chose Ser Willem Darry for the post.

It wasn't the first of her decisions he had overruled, but it was the most significant, and most public. Aerys knew full well that woman or not, the people - lords and commoners alike - were starting to respect Tya far more than they respected him. And he hated it, but not enough to sack her - whether that was due to her competency or more distasteful reasons - so showed his displeasure in petty ways like this.

Either way, she was furious.

"What was the point?" Tya asked coldly. She stood before Aerys' desk in the solar he barely used, hating the fact that he refused to stand as well, instead lounging in his chair. "I cannot think of any possible reason to not appoint Tygett to the post other than to spite me,"

"Don't be ridiculous," The king's amused attitude belied his words. "I chose Ser Willem because his house is very loyal and deserves to be rewarded. He is also an experienced knight, not a green boy like your brother,"

"Tygett has been fighting the outlaws and bandits of the Westerlands for years, now," Tya gritted her teeth. "He's no green boy. Not to mention the fact he was knighted at sixteen, and has ridden in - and won - countless tourneys, melees too,"

"Well, I suppose Ser Willem is just better," Aerys shrugged, smiling in a way that all but said that he wasn't going to listen to a word she said.

Tya narrowed her eyes.

"You barely know the man,"

"I barely know your brother,"

She took a breath.

"Is this meant to put me in my place?" She sneered, using the fact that she was standing and he was sitting to her advantage. "Do not insult me by denying it. You've never given a damn who was Master of Arms until now,"

"And so what if it was?" Aerys finally stood, and to her eternal annoyance, he was taller than her by two inches. He moved around the desk, and around her, so she was forced to turn around, not wanting her back to him. The king smiled falsely and took her hands gently in his. She fought the urge to rip them away, seeing the rage dancing behind his eyes. "You're always sure to remember that I am the king, not you, Tya?" I never forget, unfortunately.

"What kind of question - "

He kissed her. Her instinctive reaction was to try to step back, but he only followed, and then the backs of her legs were against the desk, and she tried to shove him away but his hand held her wrists far more strongly than she would've thought him capable. Tya tried to wrench her head away, but his other hand was caught in her hair.

She liked it when Jason kissed her roughly, doing all the same things, but because it wasn't him, she was only repulsed. 

Perhaps anticipating her next move, the memory of her bedding ceremony still fresh, Aerys let out an indecent noise and moved his lips to her neck. Tya stood there, still and unresponsive as a statue, but managed to force a few words through her teeth.

"If you carry on, you'll regret it," I will tell my brother you violated me, and the West will go to war. I will betroth Cersei to an Arryn, Jaime to a Tully and Rohanne to a Stark and we will march on this keep and burn it to the ground. Baratheon never quite forgave your family for the follies of Prince Duncan, whilst Princess Loreza of Dorne is my friend, and her kingdom has been a viper waiting to strike since the conquest. The Tyrells are cowards and would always go with the majority.

Perhaps some of her vicious thoughts showed, for Aerys finally stepped back and she unwillingly let out the slightest breath of relief. They were alone in the room, and though there were Kingsguard outside the door, they would hardly have gone against their king for the sake of a woman most saw as a ruthless bitch who didn't know her place.

"For gods sake, Tya," He practically whined, but let go of her wrists, which he'd been holding so tight they would no doubt bruise. "I'm the king. For one, you can't threaten me! And if you could get away with an affair with anyone, it would be me. Your husband is my friend, I know he's hardly the vengeful sort," Then you barely know him at all.

There was so much wrong with what he'd said that she was ready to burst with anger.

"I'm your Hand, not your whore," Her tone was icy cold instead. "I'm not the kind of woman who will smile and blush prettily as you bend me over a desk,"

"And that's why I want you," He tried for a charming smile, which faded at the look on her face. "I thought people said that whilst you rule the kingdoms, your husband rules you in private,"

"They talk of my husband, not of you. If you tell anyone of what you just did - "

"I won't, I won't," He said rather irritably. "What if I'd married you, instead of Rhaella? Would you have said yes?"

"If you'd asked me then, I would have," Tya replied with surprising honesty. Perhaps he had shaken her more than she would acknowledge to herself. "Marrying the heir to the throne would have been far better than marrying a Frey or some old lord from the west,"

"What about now," There was a surprising note of desperation in his tone. "Say Jason died in some battle - not a threat, just a speculation! - and Rhaella died with her next miscarriage. Would you let me name you queen? I'd let your brother have that stupid position. I'd find land and good marriages for all your children. Your children with me would be heirs, after Rhaegar - one could be queen herself,"

The idea of having a babe like Rohanne or Cersei and forcing her to marry her decades-elder brother was sickening. So was the idea of letting Aerys get her with child. And the fact that in the next to impossible event that she became queen, she'd have to get rid of her friend Rhaella's beloved son so her own could be king. Tya had no desire to become the next Alicent Hightower.

"Hand of the King has more power than a queen ever could," She said flatly. "I'm not the kind of woman to stand sweetly at your side and spend my days embroidering either," Or give up my right to refuse your vile presence in my bed.

"So this is why there's never been a woman in such a high position before," He muttered, but she wasn't in the mood to indulge him.

"Never do anything like that again, Aerys," Or you'll end up with a knife between your ribs. Tya looked him dead in those violet eyes, hoping that came across, but even she didn't dare threaten the king's life out loud.

"I'm hardly going to force you," He grumbled like an indignant child. No, because that would ruin the fun if I'm kicking and scratching underneath you.

"You just held me in place to force a kiss, even as I tried to pull away," She replied coldly. "Forgive me for feeling the need to clarify,"

Again, he opened his mouth in outrage, but she could stand to be alone with him no longer and turned away to leave without waiting to be dismissed.

If the Kingsguard had heard anything, they said nothing to her as she stormed out of the room, leaving the door open in her wake. The walk back to the Tower of the Hand only gave her a chance to get over her initial reaction to what had happened and work up a true fury, not the anger limited by shock that she had shown to Aerys.

Servants and nobles alike scurried out of her path. Her own children ran up to greet her as she entered their living quarters - Jaime and Cersei were five now, Rohanne two - but even they stopped dead at the look on her face.

"What's wrong, Mother?" Cersei asked with a rather too innocent expression. They had seen her angry before, and had been on the receiving end, but nothing like this.

"Where's your father?" She asked, trying to hide her heavy breathing. Normally she could handle Aerys, but normally it was just crude jokes and making a nuisance of himself. The only time he'd tried anything like this was on her wedding night, and that had been in public, with no danger of things going any further. The longer she thought on it, the more it hit her that it could have gone a lot worse that day.

She stopped that line of thought abruptly. Tya despised feeling powerless, and what she had felt in Aerys' solar that day was bordering on it. If she hadn't been able to talk him out of it, he'd have had her there and then on the desk. No, he wouldn't. I'd have scratched his eyes out first, attacking the king be damned. Still, it was the principle of the thing. Above all, she despised that he'd made her feel as weak as any other woman.

"Upstairs," Jaime replied to her quickly. "We were just sparring," Her son had been meant to start in the training yard aged six, but had been so eager that Jason had been giving him a few basic lessons beforehand. 

Tya suspected that he taught the wilful Cersei too, without telling her - he had openly taught her to use a small bow - but seeing as they were so young she had said nothing. Perhaps that was why her daughter looked like she was hiding something.

"Promise me," She held out her hands, and both twins obliged her, as children did, and took hold of one each. "That neither of you - nor Rohanne - will ever be alone with the king,"

Jaime and Cersei looked bemused

"I promise," They both said as one in that almost eerie twin way of theirs.

"Why?" Cersei asked immediately.

"Did the king do something wrong?" Jaime furrowed his brow.

"Do not repeat any of this to anyone," Tya looked at each of them, deadly serious. They wouldn't; they knew better than to disobey their mother. "The king is to be respected and served - he is the king, and can do many things for our family. That doesn't make him a good man,"

"But he's the only one who tells you what to do," Cersei seemed distressed by this. "If he's not a good man, it should be the other way round. You should be Queen and he should be Hand,"

Tya smiled tightly.

"My thoughts exactly," She said, and her daughter practically glowed. "Though don't repeat that either - the king will almost definitely take it as treason,"

Cersei nodded solemnly.

"What did the king do to you, Mother?"

She blinked at Jaime's question. Cersei was clever, it was clear already, and had Tya's ambition even at five years old. Jaime did not seem so interested, yet sometimes - like this occasion - was surprisingly astute in working out what people were hiding.

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with," Her tone lacked the sharpness she usually spoke that phrase with, as she saw Jason come down the stairs. "Now go on, both of you. Didn't the maester set you both practicing your letters?"

"What is that?" Her husband asked with narrowed eyes, staring at her neck. Oh Seven Hells. The one day she didn't wear a high-necked gown...

"Not here," She swept past him up the stairs and he followed to the solar. Tya didn't sit, merely glanced around for a mirror. "Is there a mark?"

"A lovely blooming one. Dare I ask where you got it?" 

"Aerys," He didn't look surprised. "And before you ask, no, I did not fall into his arms. He pinned me against his desk with a hand in my hair," She wondered why he looked so furious still.

"Was it only a kiss?" Jason asked, voice carefully controlled. She suddenly realised what he was thinking.

"Yes," Her words came out sharper than intended. "If it had been any more, I'd be raising an army or named Kingslayer already. He just kissed me, and I made it clear he would not be doing such a thing again,"

"He's the king, he can do what he likes if he feels like it," His tone matched hers. "If he wanted to drag you kicking and screaming to his chambers, he could. He hardly treats Rhaella much better than that,"

"As if he could - we have over a hundred loyal men here,"

"He has a whole garrison, and the city watch,"

"Even Aerys isn't foolish enough to risk war with the west, over a passing fancy,"

"I'm not sure how many passing fancies last through a marriage on both sides, Tya. Or for over ten years," 

"Do not speak to me like I'm a naive child," She snapped at him. 

"Then don't act like one," He sneered. "Believe it or not, I mislike the idea of my wife being kissed against her will by the man who has lusted after her since she was three-and-ten, let alone raped. Oh I have no doubt that the king would pay for it if he tried anything like that, but that doesn't take away from the fact it would have happened. Gods know I'm not saying resign your post, but least don't meet with him alone again,"

She wasn't sure why she was arguing with him over this. It was a reasonable suggestion, and he was voicing reasonable concerns, albeit more extreme than she herself believed were realistic. Perhaps she just wanted to shout at someone, anyone. 

Tya didn't reply, merely went over to the window, staring outside. After a while in silence, her husband came to join her, ignoring her glare.

"You're going to regret calling me a child," Her tone wasn't exactly friendly, but not hostile either. "I'll bring one guard in with me when the king is alone," Because she didn't particularly want to be alone with the king either. He had reminded her that day that she could be as vulnerable as any other woman, and she despised it.

*

272AC

It was two years later, whilst Tya was big with child for the third time that Aerys dealt her the - well, perhaps not the worst, after that day in his solar, but certainly the most public insult so far.

It was at a tourney being held in honour of Prince Rhaegar's birthday. The king had stood up to make his opening speech, finishing on a note of congratulations for the recent marriage of Lord Chelsted and his new bride. While doing so, he glanced slyly at Tya where she sat in the same box as him, and she already dreaded what would come out of his mouth.

"And if one as cold and frigid in bed as our Lady Hand could manage to get with child yet again, no doubt the two of you will have no trouble producing an heir before the year is out," Aerys smirked.

There was some scattered laughter and snickering in the crowd which quickly quieted at the dangerous look on Tya's face. Beside her she felt Jason stiffen, and his smile turn rather sharp.

"Oh dear," The king chuckled, eyes alive with spite. "Have I roused the lioness' anger?"

In a cloak of gold or a cloak of red, a lioness still has claws. And mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours.

She wasn't going to get up and leave as many ladies might, and would be justified in doing; to not only have their marriage bed joked about in front of an entire tourney, but also for it to be implied that they had slept with the king would be mortifying for most.

Instead, she sat through it with a stony expression, though approached Aerys during the feast later that evening, Jason's questioning look following after her though he did not leave his seat. 

The king clearly recognised the cold fury on her face for he grinned.

"No need to look so aggrieved," He said. "It was just my little joke,"

"If you mean to speak to me like that in front of a crowd again in the future, your Grace, that will be the last time you do so with me as your Hand," She replied flatly, loud enough that people around them - who had been subtly listening in - dropped all pretences and turned around to gawp. "I will not stand to be insulted so publicly,"

Aerys clearly hadn't expected that, and clearly was not pleased, eyes flashing with anger.

"Do what you like," He snapped irritably. "Another reason why I should never have made a woman my Hand - you're all too highly strung and can't take a simple jape," It was said far too viciously to be viewed as a joke. No one laughed.

"Then I will burden you no longer, your Grace," Tya said coldly. "You are free to find another Hand who is less highly strung. I wish you luck finding a man who will accept you publicly implying you shared his bed,"

As predicted, Aerys finally took her seriously, though was not happy about it.

"You will not resign," He glowered at her. "I won't let you,"

"Then do not ever slander me in front of a crowd again,"

"Fine," He waved a hand impatiently. "Fine, fine, I won't,"

*

She should've known it would not be that easy.

Though Aerys had started the whole debacle by publicly insulting her, and she had responded rather reasonably, it was him who had to finish it too, as payback for her manipulating him in front of the whole court.

People had been saying for years that Tya ran the kingdom while the king spent money on feasts, paintings, plays and whores. Aerys had even joked about it at one point, in private of course. No one said such things to his face, but he was always aware of the whispers and muttering. It seemed to bother him more and more as the years went on.

Only now she'd irritated him enough that he finally decided to pay attention.

Tya had gotten there too late.

The captain of her personal guards was already howling in pain when she slammed open the door to the cell, blood pouring from his mouth as the gaoler held his severed tongue in between pincers. Jaime and Cersei, who were both with her that day seeing as there was no small council meeting, both let out small noises of shock, though thankfully neither clung to her skirts. Good; seven was too old for things like that.

"I was only following orders, milady," The gaoler blanched slightly at her furious expression. "He made a joke about the king, see, and the king heard,"

Tya ignored him, even as blood from the screaming, writhing man splashed onto her skirts.

"Someone get the maester here for Ser Ilyn," She snapped at the men behind her. "He is to receive the best of care. Take him to the Tower of the Hand and make up a guest chamber for him," Never let it be said she didn't reward loyalty, even if she wasn't in time to stop him losing his tongue.

"Are you not coming with us, milady?"

"No," Her jaw set. "I'm going to see the king. Children, go with the guards,"

She must've looked a sight, striding through the godswood where Aerys was entertaining his latest mistress, eight months pregnant with blood splashed across her skirts; of course, today was the day she had chosen to wear gold instead of her usual dark colours where it wouldn't have showed. This hardly counts as being alone with him, surely.

"Your Grace," She ignored the fact that his hand was up the skirt of the giggling girl in his lap; he seemed to delight in the fact, looking at her with an expression that seemed to say 'this could be you'. "I'll thank you to inform me of any misdeeds my men have committed in the future so I can punish them adequately myself,"

"Did you not think I gave the man adequate punishment?" Aerys raised an eyebrow. "I thought having his tongue torn out by hot pincers was enough, but if you think I should've been harsher..."

"I do not," She said firmly, not wanting to say anything more on that, for if she said that she thought he'd been too harsh, he would ask her if she agreed with what Ser Ilyn had said, and that was a dangerous route to go down. "I merely request that in the future you inform me before such measures are taken,"

He didn't answer, merely glanced at her skirts.

"Is that blood?" The king's eyes lit up. "So you nearly got there in time to go against me, but not quite. Ha," He laughed. "You should wear bloody clothes more often, Tya. It suits you," Her lips twitched involuntarily and he grinned further. "I know you're angry about your captain. Tell you what, I'll give him a position to make up for it. How does King's Justice sound? The current man's getting so old he botched the last few executions anyway,"

She knew what he was trying to do. Trying to teach her that if she was pleasant and obliging then she would be rewarded. It angered her, but not so much that she would act the fool and turn this down.

"I'll accept your offer on Ser Ilyn's behalf," She said. "Though it would be a lot more compelling if you made it without a whore squirming in your lap,"

The girl flushed and looked down. Aerys just laughed.

"Another disadvantage of having a Lady Hand rather than a lord,"

*

Tya's second son and fourth child, Damon Lannister, was born several weeks later.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 8th Jan 2022

273AC

Tya wasn't the kind of woman to let her children hang from her skirts. Jaime and Cersei were eight now and neither would dream of such a thing; even as younger children, they had never shrunk behind either of their parents, not that either of their parents would have let them. Both were bold and proud, as befitting lions of Lannister, and Tya often (very privately) thought they would make better heirs of the main branch than Kevan's children; Gerold was awfully disobedient and foolish, with no time for his lessons, whilst Janei was painfully shy.

Unlike his father, Jaime had only disdain for archery, yet was a prodigy with a sword even at eight, with the master-at-arms Ser Willem Darry and Ser Barristan Selmy himself both remarking on how they had never seen a more naturally gifted swordsman. He didn't have much time for his lessons, and rather embarrassingly still struggled to read, a matter that Tya was considering taking into her own hands to fix.

She was just glad that her son was no pushover like Lord Tytos had been. Jaime clearly took after Jason more than her - his replies were often far too smart for her liking, and he had a definite irreverence for being told what to do - but the few things he seemed to have inherited from his mother was her pride, her refusal to seem weak and most of all her sharp tongue.

Cersei had inherited her ambition.

The girl idolised Tya, which was not near as irritating as it sounded. Her daughter could spout out ladylike courtesies and smile sweetly when she wanted, but was no delicate rose, beautiful though she was. Like her mother, she had no time for embroidery or learning the harp, but instead demanded to be taught the kind of things that Tya had sought after as a girl, and had only found herself in books on politics and war.

Cersei had a keen mind, even though she rarely applied it to anything she didn't want to, and Tya was amenable to the idea of teaching her daughter some of what she knew. Jaime showed little interest in such things, though she made him attend some lessons nonetheless, as he wasn't bad at all when he tried hard enough.

Despite her interests, however, Cersei was nowhere near as cold and careful as her mother had been as a girl. She was precocious, yes, but still acted like a child, which her mother had never really done. When she found something difficult she tended to rail against it rather than throwing herself into it, making teaching her rather frustrating. Cersei also had a rather nasty and vocal temper, and was not at all good at concealing her emotions, which blazed hot and fast. She certainly was not Tya born again.

She was also very attached to her brother. Jaime and Cersei had been joined at the hip their whole lives, even closer than Tya and Kevan had once been. Whilst Tya had ordered her brother around, and he trailed after her like a faithful shadow, the twins seemed rather more balanced. They tended to put each other in their places, not unlike her and Jason did, but they were far closer than the mutual loathing their parents had shared as children. Though they did argue, it never seemed to come from a place of dislike, and it was clear that both twins' favourite person was the other.

Tya still remembered the days when her eldest daughter would beg her father to teach her the sword, the same as he taught Jaime. The girl had given up on it when she realised her brother was far better at it naturally, which irritated her enough to declare swordplay 'unladylike' at the age of seven and turn to her mother for lessons in something she was vaguely good at (something her brother had no patience for). That was certainly a good thing. It was one thing to tolerate a woman doing work of government, but quite another to don a sword and armour.

Of all her children, Rohanne was perhaps the most like Tya in temperament. The only one of the four to have red hair rather than gold, her younger daughter was quiet and reserved even aged five. Perhaps that was due to her elder siblings being so close, but she had never attempted to follow the twins around and try and join in. Rohanne seemed to care for Jaime more than Cersei; though Cersei would always be his favourite, Jaime did make time for his younger sister too, which often made Cersei angry. Although the girl did interact with Rohanne herself, it seemed to annoy her that whilst quiet, her sister wasn't a biddable little mouse, but stubborn and strong-willed.

Damon was less than a year old so it was too early to tell how he'd turn out, and of course he had little opinion on the fact she was with child again. Rohanne didn't seem too bothered by the arrival of another younger sibling either; unlike Cersei, she liked spending time with baby Damon but wasn't quite as attentive as Jaime towards their younger brother, or perhaps just showed it differently.

Jaime seemed to look forward to another sibling, but Cersei, as ever, was unimpressed.

"Do you have to have another baby, Mother?" She implored as they all sat in her solar one evening after dinner. "You've already got two boys and two girls. Rohanne and Damon were extra anyway. And you only just had Damon,"

That was true. Tya had found out she was pregnant with her fifth child scarcely four months after her fourth was born, and it was due to be born only eleven months after Damon. 

She had railed at Pycelle at the unexpected pregnancy, for she had been drinking moon tea prepared by the maester since Damon was born, intending for the boy to be her last child. She hated being pregant, and did not want to risk dying in childbirth for a fifth time. Yet for whatever reason, the tea hadn't worked. 

As it turned out, the job of preparing moon tea for the few ladies of the court that asked for it had been assigned to a less experienced assisant, the very apologetic Grand Maester had told her. Whatever Tya had been taking had not been effective as a result of improper preparation, and the offending assistant would be dismissed immedaitely. But as for the consequences of that, there was ultimately little she could do.

Tya was hardly going to risk her health by having the baby removed in a dangerous procedure; besides, if it got out that she'd killed her unborn child, the High Septon would probably declare her a heathen, seeing as he thought her unnatural and wicked anyway. She'd had three relatively easy pregnancies and birthed four healthy children already. There was no reason why this one would be any different.

"You say that like there's something I can do about it, Cersei," She said to her daughter.

"Don't you choose when you're with child?" The girl's eyes widened.

Jason snorted in amusement where he sat beside her.

"Sometimes," Tya replied carefully, with a glare at her husband. "Sometimes it just happens. I did not choose to have any of you," That was quite true. She had never tried to get pregnant, viewing each one as an inconvenience (though of course not her children once they were born - there were servants to look after them then).

"A fine thing to tell them all," Her husband shook his head, though none of them looked very upset.

"Can I feel the baby kick again?" Like with Damon and Rohanne before him, Jaime seemed fascinated with the idea of a new sibling.

Tya hesitated slightly - as she did at the idea of anything resembling affection with anyone who wasn't Jason, a remnant of her overly affectionate father, or perhaps the grasping hands of her unfortunate first husband - but then nodded. Her husband grinned as their son - then Cersei, a little more hesitantly - hurried to place a hand on her swollen stomach. Tya smiled faintly back, not as disturbed by the domestic scene as she would've been ten years ago.

*

Her waters broke too early. Three weeks early, by the maester's calculations; not too bad, the baby should live, but it will almost certainly be small and rather frail. That was what he said at the beginning, anyway.

Almost two days later, Tya was still in labour and no one was saying the baby was small anymore.

The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life, and she had already birthed four children. The room around her was slowly vanishing into a haze, the agony taking over every aspect of her being, the increasingly panicked rush of midwives and maesters around her fading into the background. She felt boiling hot, and her own breaths were ragged and uneven, her body drenched in sweat, the bed drenched in blood.

Tears were openly running down her face; she was irritated that she had any left after hours of agony. Perhaps they had been saved up, all those times she did not cry.

It seemed to be never-ending, only broken up by a midwife telling her to push every now and again. Too weak for anything else, Tya listened without question, anything to get the pain to stop. For the first time in the birthing bed, she wasn't sure she was going to make it through the ordeal alive, and felt the cold grip of fear overtake her as well as the pain.

'One last push' a distant voice said, so she did, screaming in agony through a hoarse throat, only to be met with not only the crying of a baby, but also the alarmed exclamation of one of the midwives, and an outbreak of furious muttering.

But she was barely aware of any of that, her vision starting to darken. When her head lolled limply to one side, everyone around her panicked even more than they were doing so already. There was a rush of activity, presumably to help her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. For once in her life, Tya was indifferent, apathetic. If I die the pain will stop.

No doubt there were many who would celebrate the news of her dying in a bed of blood. She'd made enemies enough, from the Freys to those who secretly supported the Reynes and Tarbecks to people at court who hated how high she'd risen and eagerly awaited her downfall.

That thought, if nothing else, brought her somewhat back to reality. The first woman to earn the position of Hand of the King could not die in childbed. She wasn't going to be that weak, wasn't going to die in such an ordinary, mundane way like countless feeble women before her. She was a mother, but she was Hand first, she would not reduce herself to a footnote in history, would not let dying this way define her.

She fought the darkness, fought to keep her heavy eyelids open, fought to focus on the people fussing around her, trying to stem the bleeding between her legs. It was harder than anything she'd ever done.

"Tya," They'd brought in Jason, she realised as her husband grabbed her clammy hand, squeezing tight, sounding more worried than she ever remembered him being. What about the septon, to pray for her immortal soul? "Gods," His tone did little to comfort her, though it gave her something to focus on, something to latch onto. Then he cleared his throat. "Our dear Master of Coin was causing trouble in the meeting yesterday. He's defensive again. He's got something to hide - I'll find out soon enough. He likes me, even if he despises you. If I can get him to trust that I wouldn't pass anything on to you, perhaps I'll discover some of his secret. You'll have to deal with him afterwards, of course. I'm sure you'll enjoy that,"

"Surely Lady Tya doesn't need to hear about the stress of her work right now, my lord?" She heard a reproachful voice say. "Perhaps speak of your children, or something less taxing?"

No, it's helping. A distraction, if nothing else; and being Hand came more naturally to her than motherhood. It took far too much effort to squeeze Jason's hand, which he squeezed back almost desperately. She knew he cared for her, of course - they were no longer the squabbling children they once were, even though they often argued behind closed doors - but it was strange seeing him show it in such an obvious way.

"Respectfully, Maester, please shut up," Her husband replied, turning back to her. "The king was asking after you. He seems to expect you back two days from now, so you'd better stop bleeding," That was a pointed threat at Pycelle if ever she heard one,

Jason would've said more, but a very unwelcome voice was coming up the stairs, loudly talking to one of the guards. Speak of the Stranger and he will appear.

"The babe has only just been born?" Aerys was saying, sounding confused. "But she started birthing it two days ago. She's normally back to work after three days. What's been taking so long? I'll be needing my Hand back in time for the Tyrell visit - no one deals with Lady Olenna like she does,"

If anything, hearing such a grating sound as his voice brought her back to reality a little more. Hot rage filled her, almost a balm to her pain. How dare he come here, uninvited, now? How dare he presume to intrude on such a private thing, when her own husband had only just been allowed in? It was beyond inappropriate, it was obscene. No doubt people would talk.

As a rule, Tya didn't swear, though several choice words came to mind now that she wished she wasn't too weak to put some vehemence behind.

"Oh not him," She heard herself mumble deliriously instead. "Get him away... don't want to - to die... hearing him," Not to mention she was lying with her legs open, a position she had never wished to be in in front of the king, although perhaps seeing her like this would cool his attraction to her somewhat. She was more bothered about him seeing her lying there gasping and moaning in agony, tears running down her face; even now she worried about seeming weak.

Jason let out a rather choked laugh. He quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks without mentioning it - a gesture that nearly had her sobbing in earnest - and left her side momentarily, presumably to deal with the king before he made it into the room.

It was too late, however. Maester Pycelle and the midwives were still trying to stem the flow of blood between her legs, and none of them even acknowledged the king's presence beyond a glance. No one bothered to cover her up either, though there was so much blood-soaked linen that he likely couldn't see much.

"Gods," She heard him say, and imagined his face blanching with no small amount of pleasure. "That's - that's a lot of blood. She's not meant to lose all that, surely," Thank you, Maester Aerys.

It occurred to her that he'd likely never seen the aftermath of childbirth before. He'd only had the one, after all, and that was in the aftermath of the tragedy at Summerhall so he probably hadn't seen Rhaella for days after. By then she'd have been scrubbed clean and made pretty again. There was nothing pretty about the state Tya was in now.

There was some hushed whispering, which she couldn't quite make out.

"She's dying?" The king didn't bother to lower his voice. He sounded more angry than concerned. "What? No, you can't let her. I need her, she's my Hand," He hesitated. "My friend," She wasn't so sure about that. "Pycelle, if you let Lady Tya die I'll see you strung up - "

"With all due respect, your Grace, your presence is not helping," Jason cut him off, tone flat and colder than he ever used with the king. Even when Aerys angered him, he always smiled through his response. "Let us leave the maester to work in peace,"

Surprisingly, the king had no angry response to that. There may have been a shocked expression, but she couldn't see.

"And what of the child? Did it survive?" He demanded instead.

She rather wanted to know the answer to that herself but was too exhausted and in pain to call out. Even breathing was laborious. There was some more mumbling, though it sounded distant now. Her vision was narrowing again, and her eyelids had never stopping being heavy.

"My lady," Someone was saying insistently, shaking her shoulder. "My lady, you can't sleep just yet. Lady Tya, please open your eyes. Tya. Tya,"

She had always resented taking orders from others.

That was her final thought before Tya finally succumbed to the darkness and slipped away.

*

When she awoke, the room was dark, though sunlight was seeping through a gap in the drapes. Morning.

She was quite surprised to wake. She almost wished she hadn't; every bit of her either ached or hurt like a stab wound. Tya tried to move and let out an unwilling gasp of pain. She had never felt more weak and feeble in her life.

The handmaid sat next to the bed let out a small cry at a sign of movement from her.

"Milady, you're awake!" She sounded breathlessly relieved. "It's been over a day. Let me fetch the maester," Before Tya could ask for some water, the girl had hurried off.

This is my last child, she vehemently decided there and then. No more birthing. This one had come far too close to killing her, despite the fact her first three pregnancies had been relatively straightforward. She tried not to focus on the blurred memories she had of pure agony and tears, of sheets soaked with sweat and blood, unfocused figures moving around her panicking.

Tya realised she didn't know yet whether she had a son or a daughter, or even if the child survived. Gods, she herself might still be carried off by a fever or infection in the next few days.

When the maester came in, he was not alone. Jason was there too, though not with their child in his arms as she'd hoped.

"What happened?" She demanded. "How is the babe?"

"You're not dead," He deflected instead; he never did that, knowing how she hated it. "That's good, I suppose," She saw the relief in his eyes, however.

"Answer my question," She narrowed her eyes, not in the mood for stupid quips. Her ordeal had put her in a bad enough mood that she wasn't inclined to be sympathetic. Not that she was usually.

Both men hesitated.

"Out with it," She ground out. "I won't drop dead if you tell me the babe didn't survive," She was tense nonetheless, a knot in her stomach, a lump in her throat. It was just because she had almost died herself, surely.

"The baby's alive," Jason assured her. She relaxed slightly. "A son. Though he's not healthy. Maester Pycelle isn't sure if he'll survive the week,"

"Fine," Though no mother rejoices to be told that her baby might not live very long, at least he wasn't dead yet. "The maester said the child was three weeks early," She paused. "Though he did not feel small and sickly in the least," The twins had been the smallest of her children and birthing them had been much, much easier than this one.

"Let me rephrase," Jason grimaced. "His body is small and frail but his head is enormous, and nearly tore you apart. Our son is a dwarf,"

"A - " She broke off, mouth setting in a straight line as she gathered herself. "A dwarf. I - " Rather embarrassingly, her words caught in her throat. "How can you tell?" She turned to Pycelle.

"As Lord Jason said, the child's head is very large," The maester cleared his throat. "And his limbs are small and stunted. You lost a lot of blood during the birth, Lady Tya. It's a miracle you survived, truly. We were lucky to stem the blood flow enough to stitch you back up in time, but you will still have to be very careful of fever and infection,"

"How much will he grow?" Was all she could ask.

"Those with his condition do not grow more than four and a half feet tall,"

She closed her eyes briefly. A dwarf. How could she and Jason have birthed such a deformed child? No doubt the court would relish in this news. That'll teach Lady Tya to rise too high above her station. It's good to see such pride brought low. This is what happens when a woman does men's work - her body starts to turn on her. An unnatural son for an unnatural lady - a fitting punishment from the gods for her arrogance.

"Will he be... slow-minded?"

"It's unlikely, my lady,"

At least it wasn't a stillbirth. She didn't go through all that pain and effort for nothing, even if the result was a son who would be mocked and belittled his entire life. Rage rose in her at the thought. They had laughed at her father, and she had ensured they would never laugh at her or Kevan. The idea of people laughing at a child of hers was truly sickening.

She couldn't bring herself to dwell on it any longer.

"Fine. When can I return to my work?" She needed the distraction.

"I do not recommend even leaving your bed for a month," Pycelle spoke the damning words. "After that, you may start walking short distances, but nothing too strenuous or for too long a period. You won't be fully recovered for months. I recommend at minimum two months rest before you resume your duties as Hand,"

"I can't be away for a week, let alone more than that,"

"I know you're accustomed to getting back to your work straight away," The maester was surprisingly firm, given he usually let her walk all over him. "But you'll be far weaker than you're used to being. You are a remarkable woman, Lady Tya, one I admire greatly. However, putting your body under so much strain will come with a price. Let yourself heal correctly now, rather than causing yourself problems in the future,"

"Aerys already named me acting Hand," Jason added. "In case you didn't wake up. I can't promise that I won't usurp your position, but better me than some social climber,"

"Don't even joke," She glared at him. "You're one of the reasons why I can't stay in bed for a month,"

"You nearly died," He glared right back. "Get over your pride for once and let yourself rest, Tya,"

There was a long pause, filled with a lot of glowering. But the ordeal of the last few days had actually terrified her, for all she tried to be her usual self, and so she backed down.

"Fine," It was a short, grudging answer.

Having checked her over, Pycelle left soon after that, leaving her alone with her husband. Jason wordlessly sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

"I'm not having any more children," She said to him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. "Not after that,"

"I thought that was settled after Damon," Her husband said, grimacing. "Pycelle would have been in a world of trouble if you died on account of his negligence with the moon tea. If his actions hadn't saved you, I'd have seen him dismissed already. Seeing you like that..." He broke off.

"I looked just like any other woman dying in childbed," Her lip curled. "And Aerys saw,"

"He shouldn't have come," Jason said rather darkly. "Who knows why he did. I don't want to cause you stress," The curl of his lip told all he thought of the maester's definition of stress. "But you'll want to know this - there's now rumours the child is Aerys', seeing as he visited you so soon. The fact that Targaryen babes are often born deformed is only fuelling the fire. I've heard some people claim the child has dragon horns and a tail,"

Tya let out a rather uncharacteristic curse directed at the king.

"It felt like he had dragon horns," She said, her tone sour. "What does he look like?"

"I can have him brought here," Jason rose to call a servant. Tya wasn't quite sure she was ready to see her dwarf son, but didn't object. "I've been calling him Tyrion, like we agreed, but you can change that if you like," It had been Tyrion for a boy or Lelia for a girl.

A nursemaid brought the child in, swaddled in blankets, and Jason took him off the girl before dismissing her.

"The maester was exaggerating," He said, sitting down beside her but not passing him to her just yet. "His head is large, and his legs are a little small, but apart from that, he looks quite normal. Well, he's got a bit of an evil eye - one's green, one's black,"

Baby Tyrion squirmed in his father's arms, grizzling slightly, and Tya found herself instinctively reaching out to take him but stopped before she did.

"Look," Jason sensed her hesitation and loosened the swaddling clothes slightly, pulling them back from the child's face. "He is just a baby,"

Tyrion wasn't a pretty baby. Jaime and Cersei had been as beautiful as newborns get, though Rohanne and Damon had both been red and wrinkled. Tyrion was outright ugly, there was no other way of putting it. Like Jason said, he had one black eye and one green, and his head was much larger than a normal child's. He tore you apart. She hadn't quite considered the reality of that until now.

But those mismatched eyes were clear and intelligent, staring up at her. One chubby fist broke free of the cloth around him and waved in the air. Her husband seemed to understand that she didn't want to hold the child - not yet, at least - which she was grateful for.

"Have the other children met him?" She said without much relish.

"No," Jason shook his head. "Not before I was sure you wouldn't bleed out on us. They know he's a dwarf, though. They've all been upset, as you can imagine. Cersei's been throwing tantrums for the last few days. Rohanne and Jaime have both been very quiet. Even Damon hasn't been himself. I can have them brought up, if you feel like seeing them,"

"One at a time," Tya said after a moment's consideration. "Cersei first - she'll take the most energy,"

And so her eldest daughter was shown into the room by her father. For all his talk of her tantrums and rage the last few days, the girl looked remarkably subdued. She ran to Tya with a strangled sob the moment she saw her, though thankfully stopped short of flinging herself at her.

"I thought you'd die," Cersei, who prided herself on never crying 'like a silly little girl', said with tears streaming down her face. "Everyone was saying you were dying, because that - that monster clawed its way out of you,"

Tya had never been good at dealing with excessive emotion, and was grateful when Jason let their daughter cry, clinging to him instead even as he held baby Tyrion.

"You shouldn't listen to everyone," She said. "They talk a lot of nothing,"

Cersei nodded, her sobs abating slightly.

"Is that it?" She narrowed her eyes at the bundle in her father's arms. "How can you hold that thing so close? It nearly killed you,"

Tya wasn't quite sure herself.

"It wasn't Tyrion's fault," Jason said, for her benefit as much as their daughter's she knew, as he cast a pointed look her way. "He's just a baby - he didn't choose to be born with a big head. And your mother will be fine, besides - she wasn't going to let a babe kill her," Cersei looked unconvinced. "You shouldn't be cruel to your brother. People will mock him enough as it is,"

"If they laugh at a Lannister, they'll regret it," Tya said sharply. She knew that at least, despite not being sure on what exactly she felt for her youngest child, the dwarf who had nearly been the end of her, who had reminded her she could die in the birthing bed like any other woman. Tyrion may be the cause of much mockery towards their family, but he was still a Lannister, no matter how she wished he was born normal.

"As if they would dare laugh to your face," Jason drawled at her, tone changing when he spoke to their daughter. "Although Cersei, I'm trusting you to make sure, when your mother isn't around, that no one is cruel to Tyrion. You're the eldest, after all. Do you think you can do that?" His expression dared Tya to stop him.

The girl still looked slightly doubtful.

"They shouldn't laugh at a Lannister," She agreed slowly. "Even if he is a stupid dwarf," She did seem to like the idea of doing her mother's job when Tya wasn't around. "But yes. I suppose I can do that,"

"Good," Jason smiled. "Would you like to hold him?"

Cersei glanced at her mother, who didn't object.

"Alright," The girl was used to holding Damon - even if she wasn't that keen on babies - so knew to sit on the bed and make sure Tyrion's head was supported when they passed him over. She stared at him, even poking his face, and actually smiled weakly when he grabbed her finger. "Jaime will like him," She eventually said. "He wanted another brother,"

Chapter Text

EDITED: 8th Jan 2022

273AC

It was two months after Tyrion was born that Tya returned to her work. Seven weeks too long in her opinion, and two months too soon in Pycelle's. Even so, after that first day back on the small council, she understood why the maester warned her to be careful; everything was still so much more tiring, and she was still very sore in certain places.

Aerys seemed delighted to have her back at first, though that quickly deteriorated. It seemed two months away from her influence had got him used to walking all over the small council and doing whatever he liked.

In the early days of his reign, she had merely had to curb his ridiculous ideas - such as building a new Wall a hundred leagues north of the current one to extend his kingdom, or digging an underwater canal to make the deserts of Dorne fertile, or building a war fleet to 'bring the Titan of Braavos to its knees' - but that was easy enough seeing how fast he lost interest in such things.

Things had soured enough over the years that by now the king openly did the opposite of whatever Tya suggested, which made the next two years very trying indeed. Aerys had always been changeable, quick to laugh but quick to anger, and very proud as well, but this went beyond that, into suspicious and paranoid.

In the later months of 273AC, Myr and Tyrosh became involved in a trade war against Volantis, a matter that shouldn't have even concerned the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Aerys was showing too much interest, however, prompting Tya to suggest that they remain neutral. Of course, this made the king order gold and arms to be sent to Voltanis as a gesture of their goodwill.

Early the next year, the ridiculous millennia-long feud between Lords Bracken and Blackwood reared its head again over some a border dispute. Tya wished to favour the Blackwoods - it would be more useful in the long run, and the king's own grandmother had been a Blackwood - so in response Aerys sided with House Bracken.

But by far the most irritating incident was when Aerys doubled the port fees for Oldtown and King's Landing and tripled them at all other ports in Westeros, including Lannisport. Trade obviously suffered drastically and a delegation of merchants came before the Iron Throne to protest these laws. Tya had been ready to oblige them and be smug knowing that she was right, only for Aerys to lie, blaming the mess on his Hand and changing the port fees back. He gained a lot of popularity for that, whilst Tya was afforded nothing but scorn.

All those ill-advised jokes and slights towards her in public still continued, of course. A month or so after she returned to her duties, the king was heard to have said that Tya had begotten a monster from the gods who nearly ripped her apart 'to teach her some humility at last'. That had destroyed any tiny semblance of friendship they may have had leftover from childhood. She hadn't even confronted him about that despite knowing he definitely said such a thing, she was so angry.

It didn't end there, however. At one memorable feast, Aerys drunkenly asked her if nursing her 'monster of a son' had ruined her breasts. Her rivals in court laughed at every jape out of the king's mouth against her, even joking about her themselves to gain the king's favour. Never to her face, though, which was satisfying in its own way.

There was only so much Tya could do about such things in public. Largely she bore the jests in silence, never showing any public display of weakness. Jason sometimes commented when the king went too far, but he was limited to keeping his tone light and joking, never openly chastising or reproachful. 

She continued to serve the realm as Hand - not really having much choice unless she wanted to fade into obscurity - whilst Aerys grew more and more suspicious and erratic.

*

274AC

Jaime left at dawn.

Tya hadn't expected to feel so... so much. She loved her son, of course, but had never balked at the idea of the natural way of things. She had arranged with Kevan herself for him to foster at Casterly Rock at the age of nine, taking lessons alongside the Lannister heir Gerold and spending time in his family seat, serving as a page for now and a squire later on.

Yet the reality of sending off Jaime, her eldest boy, was a lot harder than she thought it would be, and was glad that Jason was going with him, at least for the journey. She didn't cry, of course - aside from Tyrion's birth, she hadn't cried since her mother died - and neither did he. He was excited, as all young boys are to go out into the world, but was clearly saddened at the same time to leave his parents and siblings. Particularly Cersei.

Tya's eldest daughter had predictably thrown an enormous tantrum when she found out her twin was leaving her. She was still sulking now, and clearly trying not to cry as Jaime rode off after a long hug, but Tya was glad to see she didn't shed a tear.

None of the children were best pleased; Jaime was the favourite of every single one of them. Rohanne, aged six now, had taken her brother's departure as stoically as she took everything else - it wasn't the same coldness that Tya had at that age, she realised now - whilst Damon had cried a lot, though he was only two so that was acceptable. Tyrion, an infant still, obviously hadn't known what was going on.

She couldn't say that she was pleased to have a dwarf son. Not in any way, shape or form. But she was more used to the idea now than she had been after his birth; if anything, the taunts of Aerys and the cruel whispers of the court had warmed her up to her son as something worthy of her defence. 

Much of the reason Tya was so cold was the ordeal of his birth, the awful pain, the fear she'd die just like any other woman. Realistically, that wasn't the baby's fault, even if the memories would stay with her forever. Though she knew she treated Tyrion differently to all her other children, and could admit to herself that he was her least favourite even if she wouldn't say it aloud.

Jason treated Tyrion just like the others, however, hopefully covering any failings on her part and giving her sharp looks or reprimands when she acted too cold with the boy. Jaime and Rohanne loved their brother without question, and Damon would grow up alongside Tyrion, whilst Jason's easy acceptance of the dwarf child had led to Cersei not outright hating him. She still eyed him warily, with some disgust, but never said a cruel word and challenged anyone who did aggressively.

If an overly-emotional nine-year-old could deal with it, hopefully so could Tya, in time.

*

"You can't let him do this. Tell him it's not right, she's his queen,"

Tya raised an eyebrow at the young man stood before her.

She had never had much to do with Prince Rhaegar before despite being friends with his mother the queen. The boy was bookish and solitary, spending much of his time in the library, in his own company, and had suddenly grown from a quiet child into this solemn youth of fifteen who had requested an audience with his father's Hand for the first time.

They were in her solar, Tya sat behind her desk whilst the prince sat before her. In truth, she was rather glad he had the guts to speak to her like that. She had always considered him rather weak before now, with his head in the clouds, but his voice only held hints of childish anger; he came across as surprisingly cold and collected, though his intense glare could rival Cersei's when she didn't get her way.

"You should know better than anyone that no one can tell your father anything without him doing the exact opposite," She said. A flash of something - resentment, certainly - passed across the young prince's face.

"He listens to you better than anyone,"

"Listened," She corrected, continuing as she saw his mouth start to open. "Your mother is one of my closest friends, which I have few enough of. If I thought there was anything I could do to improve her situation, I would do it. As it stands, any appeal I make to the king will only make things worse for her,"

"She didn't kill the babe," Rhaegar shook his head. "Of course she didn't. Neither did any of the servants. He was just sickly - no doubt because he has one set of great-grandparents," Or perhaps because his father has ruined his mother's body by forcing too many pregnancies in too little time since the age of fourteen.

The death of the six-month-old Prince Jaehaerys had put Aerys in a black mood these past days. He was the fourth of Aerys' children to die in the cradle, joining Shaera, Daeron and Aegon, along with Rhaella's numerous miscarriages. Not only had the king beheaded the wet nurse for murdering his son, he had also accused his wife of being unfaithful, thereby bringing down the wrath of the gods and cursing her with dead babes. The queen had been confined to Maegor's Holdfast ever since, and watched at all hours. Tya had visited her, offered to do anything, but Rhaella had insisted it would just make it worse.

"In which case, you should be grateful that your mother didn't lose her head like the wet nurse,"

Rhaegar glared at her.

"Surely you can do something. Everyone says my father feels for you - " He broke off at the look on her face. "Apologies, my lady. That was impolite. I didn't mean to imply - "

"That I should make a whore of myself to a man I've been refusing since before you were born and who has spent the past years doing nothing but slight me?" She raised an eyebrow. Prince or not, he wasn't getting away with that. "Your father desires what he can't have. No doubt if I were to offer something in return for him releasing your mother, he would do it, but it shouldn't surprise you that I'm unwilling to,"

There was a pause.

"It's beyond me why he does that," Rhaegar replied. "Slight you so much, I mean. Many people don't like you, but you are a good Hand regardless. And powerful. Insulting you is foolish, and ignoring your advice even more so,"

Was he trying for flattery? He seemed to be in earnest... Even so, she would settle this matter now.

"I'm glad you think so,"

Another pause.

"Four years ago, when Prince Aegon died, his Grace wished to do the same thing he's doing now," She said in response. "Lock your mother away in Maegor's for fear of her non-existent infidelity. I talked it out of him then, barely. There's no chance of doing it a second time. You'll have more luck waiting until the king's mood changes and he's proclaiming her the most noble and gracious woman in the world,"

"Very well," Rhaegar didn't look happy, but he never did. "Thank you for your time, my lady," He inclined his head graciously.

*

A week later, the king had pardoned the unfortunate wet nurse, rescinding the accusation of her murdering the baby prince. Seeing as the woman had already been beheaded, the pardon fell somewhat flat. Tya wondered why he had bothered, until he announced that the real culprit was his mistress Anilda, the girl she had seen him in the gardens with after Ser Ilyn lost his tongue.

The girl was a knight's daughter, strikingly pretty with her big green eyes and Valyrian blonde hair. Despite being seven-and-ten, she looked half a child, with her small and delicate frame.

Tya had been in the king's solar when the poor girl had escaped her guards and run screaming and sobbing down the hallway from her chambers, begging to see the king, to convince him she had never done such a wicked thing.

Aerys had indulged her for what just seemed like sadism's sake, and the guards let her in, where she fell to her knees sobbing, begging, pleading, and kissing his feet, such a pathetic sight that Tya had almost wanted to look away. She didn't, of course.

"Your Grace, she is barely more than a child," Tya spoke up more to irritate Aerys than out of any concern for the pitiful girl, She knew that her own daughters would never humiliate themselves this way; Cersei would sooner spit in the eye of her executioner than kiss his feet, whilst Rohanne would likely punch him. "Far too empty-headed to have poisoned the prince - she didn't have access to him, besides,"

"Of course you'd vouch for this whore," The king sneered. "Murderous wretches, the both of you,"

She should've remembered he'd do anything to go against her.

"Lady Lannister," Anilda turned her red-eyed, puffy face to her now. "My lady, please, I beg you, I've done no wrong. I can't die, my mother - "

"Don't touch me," Tya didn't need to fake her disgust as she tore her skirts out of the girl's hands, but it had the benefit of distracting the king whilst she shook her head pointedly. Hopefully the stupid girl would get the hint. If Aerys heard she had a family, he'd come for them too. 

Thankfully the girl wasn't too stupid to understand and clamped a horrified hand to her mouth, collapsing back into the sobs of someone who knows they're dead.

She wasn't just dead, though. When Tya heard, a week later, that Anhilda was still in the dungeons at the mercy of Aerys' torturers - and had confessed to killing Prince Jaehaerys, with a dagger, and a pillow, and three poisons (making it abundantly clear she was just saying anything to get the pain to stop) - she sent down a discreet man of her own to put the girl out of her misery and make it look like her heart had given out.

For Tya Lannister, that was positively a good deed.

*

275AC

Aerys had another change of heart a month later, just after the new year. He decided that the prince's death was a result of him breaking his marriage vows with countless women, and the gods had cursed him as punishment. The way to fix this was apparently announcing to the entire court that he would remain faithful to his wife, swearing off all other women, and fasting for a fortnight.

"He'll keep that vow when the sun rises in the west," Jason muttered under his breath as they left that audience.

That wasn't all, though. Tya was torn between laughing and tearing her hair out as at the end of those two weeks, Aerys set out from the Red Keep at dawn, barefoot and clothed in an itchy roughspun shirt and breeches, for his walk of repentance across the city, to the Great Sept of Baelor where he would pray with the High Septon.

"Gods," Disgust dripped from her tone as she watched in almost perverse fascination. "I always thought he was just an erratic fool, but I truly think he's gone mad,"

"You're only just realising?" Her husband chuckled, stood beside her. He was very amused by the whole affair.

"He always liked to make a spectacle of himself, but this..."

"Repentance is all well and good," Jason said. "Particularly for being unfaithful to your wife. But the dead wet nurse and tortured mistress do put a dampener on it a little,"

"Oh but they were pardoned," She turned to him, putting on an uncharacteristically wide-eyed expression and innocent tone. "Our gracious king granted them forgiveness in death. Innocent after all!"

Jason looked deeply unsettled.

"Twelve years of marriage and you've never looked like that before,"

"Like what?"

"Like a breathy... girl," He grimaced.

"Don't tell me you prefer it," She returned to her normal dry voice, flashing a faint smile.

"Certainly not. Although I would pay all the gold in Casterly Rock to see you act like that when you next hold court. Who knows," Jason grinned. "Perhaps you could get more out of people by acting sweet and innocent,"

"It's your job to be everyone's friend, not mine," She replied, making him laugh.

"It's easy to be everyone's friend when they don't see you as a threat. The fact that you are Hand of the King, feared and respected across Westeros, seems to make me less of one because I'm outranked by my wife. I'd have thought it would be the opposite, but that's stupidity for you,"

"Do you not mind being outranked by your wife?" She asked curiously.

"You asked me that question before we married," He replied. "My answer stays the same. I was born the second son of a fourth son - most matches I would've made would involve my wife outranking me. Admittedly most of those matches would not have involved me taking orders from my wife in public, but you should know by now that I care little for what other people think. Unlike you," He added with a smirk. "You have always hated being outranked by anyone, even the king himself,"

"So you married me for ambition," Tya raised an eyebrow, amused. 

"Not quite, though it certainly wasn't your sweet smile or gentle words,"

*

Gerold Lannister, son of Kevan and heir to Casterly Rock, died that year at the age of nine.

The boy had become known for being wild, rebellious and defiant, and foolishly insisted on doing things like climbing the cliffs, jumping off said cliffs into the sea and exploring the old mineshafts under the rock by himself. He had slipped away from his attendants to do just that, and had caused a panic when he hadn't returned hours later. His body had been found by a guardsmen, crumpled at the bottom of an abandoned mineshaft.

Tya felt for her brother. The idea of Jaime dying in such a way was truly awful, not that Jaime would be so stupid. Her son was reckless and often foolish - he and Gerold had always gotten along well, particularly since Jaime had started serving as a page at Casterly Rock - but thankfully he wasn't lackwit enough for that.

But now that left the heir to Casterly Rock as Kevan's only daughter Janei, a sweet but delicate child who seemed terrified of her own shadow and had recently expressed a desire to become a septa when she came of age. Tya's brother had been inclined to agree, and now even Tya was not so sure she disagreed with that decision; if there was to be a Lady of Casterly Rock, it couldn't be that timid girl.

Next in line after Janei was Tygett, who was yet to have a child with his wife Lady Alinor; either she was barren or they did not share a bed, either of which was possible. After him it was Gerion, who remained unmarried as his betrothed Lady Elissa Serrett was not yet sixteen. The only one of her siblings who had a living son - save Genna who seemed to be steadily birthing a new Lefford every two years or so - was Tya. She had three, in fact, even if one was a dwarf.

Part of Tya wanted to berate Tygett into having a son with his wife, the same part that wanted Gerion's marriage moved forward (never mind that the girl was only fourteen), the same part that wanted an unfortunate accident to befall Lady Morya so Kevan could remarry and give him another son (not that he would, he had grown to love his wife).

Yet part of her wanted to do nothing at all, for now at least. She knew neither Tygett or Gerion had any interest in lordship, certainly not enough to depose their niece for the sake of any hypothetical children they may or may not have. She would never be Lady of Casterly Rock herself - all three of her brothers would have to die childless for that, and she was not near so desperate or disloyal to arrange that herself - but if she could convince Kevan to betroth Janei to Jaime...

Her son didn't seem very interested in lordship either - from what she had observed, he was capable in his lessons, just not willing to apply himself - but Tya could advise him, as could Kevan. If Aerys grew tired of having her rule his kingdom, or if he died and Rhaegar wasn't inclined to keep his father's Hand, then she wouldn't just fade into nothingness.

Nothing could be set in stone now, but it was a good idea, and not just beneficial to her; it could prevent Casterly Rock being ruled by someone outside the family, whichever house Janei's husband came from. She would write to Kevan with the potential idea, and get her brother to pay more attention to her son's lessons.

Or perhaps she would wait a few months. His own son and heir had just died, and even she could see how that would be rather insensitive. Tya refused to act as the evil, scheming, overly ambitious sister in the background trying to steal her niece's inheritance, although everyone would no doubt paint her as such regardless.

So far Jaime had been taking Gerold's lessons alongside his cousin, and had been taught by her beforehand, so he wasn't completely ignorant in such things. Kevan had even written to her previously saying that with some encouragement, the boy had revealed a surprising talent for diplomacy and reading situations where it might be needed. No doubt Kevan's encouragement was somewhat softer than her own; not that Jaime was soft, more that he didn't respond so well to being told what to do outright.

Tya was under no impression that her son was much like her, and unlike Cersei, he didn't want to be. It was likely better that she wasn't the one to instruct him in potential lordship, lest she drive him away from it altogether. Drive him away from her.

She was hardly what one would call a warm and attentive mother, but she loved her children nonetheless.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 8th Jan 2022

276AC

Finally, seventeen years after the birth of Rhaegar, the king and queen had a child who lived longer than a year.

Prince Viserys was born in the early days 276AC. The child was perfectly healthy, but Aerys was hideously paranoid, and a Kingsguard knight was ordered to stand over the babe, day and night. No one, not even Rhaella, was allowed to be alone with the prince. Gifts for Viserys sent from all over the kingdom were piled up and burned in the courtyard, as the king feared they might be cursed, and most grotesque of all, Aerys made his own food taster suckle straight from the wet nurse, to ensure there was no poison.

Ten months later, when the prince was still alive, it seemed that these extreme methods had worked; or, more likely, that the child was simply healthier than the others. When Viserys had yet to show any sign of sickliness or frailty, Tya corresponded with Kevan to arrange for a tourney to be held at Lannisport in honour of the infant prince.

It wasn't an entirely selfless gesture, of course. No doubt to outsiders it would seem to be her offer of reconciliation to Aerys, but Tya viewed it as more of a bribe.

Since he came to her to ask about his mother, Prince Rhaegar had been visiting the Tower of the Hand more often since then. Not on a regular basis - the king might implode from paranoia - but every month or so she would receive a visit from the prince. Rhaegar would mostly ask her about matters of state, presumably to learn the things his father was incapable of teaching him, and Tya was not displeased with the prince, the more time she spent with him. Though the boy was neither shrewd nor particularly calculating, he was dutiful, listened well, and had a strong desire to be a good king, at least. That was something she could work with; she had worked with his unbearable father for years, after all.

On top of that, Rhaegar now trained daily in the yard - an area he had always been lacking in - claiming to have read something in a book that required him to learn the sword. The prince was decent with a sword considering he'd barely spent two years training; no great warrior, but he was still improving, particularly with the addition of Ser Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning, to the Kingsguard. The young knight and the heir to the throne had become close friends.

Surprisingly, the prince had found he had a remarkable talent for jousting, although - as Tya was often told by her eager sons - it was more about strong horsemanship than anything else.

She could tentatively say that Rhaegar would be a much better king than his father currently was. And if he continued seeking her advice now, then perhaps he would see she was valuable enough to keep her as Hand when he was crowned.

The point was, her rather favourable opinion of the prince had given Tya the seeds of an idea she wouldn't have considered before. Which then led to the tourney; get Aerys in a good enough mood that he would agree to betroth his heir to Cersei.

It wasn't a poor match by any means, though perhaps an unexpected one for a prince. If Rhaegar was to marry any Lannister, it should rightly be a daughter of the main branch; though Janei was the only option there, and the fact she was to be Lady of the Rock ruled her out. Cersei was to be the cousin of Lady Lannister - potentially goodsister as well if the plans she and Kevan had made were followed through - as well as daughter to the Hand. It wouldn't be the first time a Hand's daughter was made queen; the only example she could think of off the top of her head was again Alicent Hightower, perhaps not the best comparison.

Besides, Rhaegar seemed to like Cersei (no doubt in a friendly way seeing as the girl was only twelve). Her daughter was often present at Tya's side when he came to speak with her, and although she treated him with respect as a prince, Cersei was never one to keep her opinions to herself when she was around her mother (though she could smile sweetly through lots of other occasions) and ended up speaking to him much more normally than most would. He seemed to find her cutting criticism of many members of court amusing, along with her ferocity and keen mind. It helped that the girl was obviously going to grow up to be a stunning beauty.

Tya was rather cautious about offering Cersei's hand for the prince, as often any suggestion from her caused Aerys to do the exact opposite. This tourney would have to greatly flatter the king's ego, and - although it riled her to do so - show that she was fully on his side and willing to accommodate his wishes without argument.

She suspected that a lot of the issues they had were because she didn't show him proper respect as king; gone were the days when that was why he appreciated her. It seemed the fun for him had been awaiting the moment she finally broke her resolve and breathlessly confessed her undying love and admiration for him. Now he realised that was never going to happen - that she really was just a cold, proud woman who viewed him with disdain - it had soured his perception of her considerably.

Thankfully, for her pride's sake, asking Aerys about a betrothal between Cersei and Rhaegar wasn't Tya's only motivation for the tourney.

That became quite apparent with the unexpected arrival of the Starks to Lannisport; Lord Rickard, his eldest son Brandon, aged seven-and-ten, and only daughter Lyanna, who was a year older than Rohanne. The Warden of the North rarely ventured down south from Winterfell, so the presence of him and his children caused a bit of a stir, and plenty of rumours to fly around. So much so that no one was talking about the possibility of Cersei and Rhaegar, which suited Tya perfectly as she wanted no embarrassment on her behalf if Aerys rejected the match.

Lord Rickard met with her in Kevan's solar, which her brother had generously allowed her to use for this matter; if he thought it odd that it was her negotiating such things rather than her husband, he didn't mention it.

Tya had met the man once before, when he visited court over ten years ago - prompting Aerys'... ambitious suggestion of moving the Wall a hundred miles north - and since then his wife, Lady Lyarra, had died from falling off a horse. Stark had been gruff and stern before, but now seemed even colder and more calculating, intelligent grey eyes assessing her every move.

"I have always wanted Brandon to marry south," He said. "I've already received word from Hoster Tully about a potential match with his eldest girl. Though an alliance with the west - and Hand of the King - would be more beneficial," She rather liked the blunt way the Northerners bargained. "However Catelyn is three-and-ten. Your girl is only nine. The wedding would have to wait seven years rather than three, unless you'd be willing to offer your eldest instead,"

"Are you feeling particularly frail that your heir must be married with children of his own in the next four years?" Tya raised an eyebrow, and Stark let out a short laugh.

"Hardly,"

"There you are, then," She said, adopting his direct manner. "Besides, Cersei would not suit the North. Nor your son," Her eldest daughter would loathe being sent to live out her days in Winterfell as wife of the notoriously wild Brandon Stark. "I have other plans for her," It was obvious what she meant by that; Tya only mentioned it as it would sweeten the pot for Rohanne's hand, if she were the sister of a future queen.

Stark was silent for a moment, assessing her words.

"And Lady Rohanne would suit the North and my son?"

"Rohanne is clever and dutiful, but has no time for the courtly ideals and dainty courtesies that southron ladies must abide by. She would prefer a hunt to a masquerade," The girl was very good with her hands and sewed beautifully, the one ladylike pursuit she enjoyed; she also fired a bow with incredible skill for a child, and rode like she was half horse herself. She was often in trouble with her septa and tutors for her bluntness, despite her generally reserved nature; she told people exactly what she thought of them, not caring if they liked her or not, which hadn't earned her many friends amongst the other highborn girls. Jaime and Cersei had always been very amused by their sister.

It had been a matter of annoyance to Tya that Rohanne's only other friends were a group of unruly young squires whom seemed to be amused by teaching her how to use a sword and knife. She would put up with it whilst Rohanne was so young - at Jason's insistence - but not for much longer. It was a welcome sight to see her befriend Lyanna Stark almost immediately, even if the girl was brazen, bold and outspoken.

"The same courtly daintiness that you abide by?" Stark raised an amused, vaguely incredulous eyebrow.

Tya's lips twitched.

"I am Hand of the king - Rohanne has no such interest in government as her mother does, although she has a good enough head for numbers that she could run a household now, let alone in seven years,"

"I suppose Brandon would prefer to wait seven years to wed," The man seemed to have talked himself into agreeing. "He'd rather have a wife he could ride and hunt with than some delicate southron flower. Tully's offer was tempting - the food they could provide during the winter would have been beneficial - but with the gold of House Lannister behind Lady Rohanne, I'm sure a reasonable dowry could be discussed, Lady Hand?"

He smiled rather sharply, and Tya fought the urge to glare, though it was a reasonable question. And hardly impertinent given his status.

"Of course,"

*

During the tourney, the smallfolk cheered twice as loud for Tya as they did for Aerys, although the king of course thought the praise was for him. She supposed his delusion could only be to her benefit.

They all watched as the tourney commenced, the joust being narrowed down further and further. The standard was very high; even Tya, who knew little of such things, could tell that. Arthur Dayne unseated many a knight, including Prince Rhaegar, Tygett and Gerion - Jason didn't even enter the lists, though came second in the archery - and won, crowing his sister, the young Lady Ashara, as victor.

She kept a close eye on the Starks; Rohanne spent a lot of time with Lady Lyanna, which was good, as the girl was often around her brothers and it would give them time to form a favourable opinion of her. Tya's daughter was easy to pick out from her vivid red hair in the crowd of dark-haired Northerners.

From her observations, it was clear that Brandon had a wandering eye, as most men of seven-and-ten did, though he was not yet officially betrothed so it mattered little. Once the betrothal was announced, Tya would prefer he kept such dalliances discreet (it was foolish to expect that he stop altogether, seeing as his future bride was nine years old). Aside from that, however, she had little to complain about him as a husband for her daughter; the young man was a ferocious warrior and handsome, with a strong personality, charismatic in a somewhat sharper, wilder way than the charming Robert Baratheon.

The younger boy, Eddard - who had arrived with Jon Arryn and the delegation from the Vale, where he fostered with the Baratheon heir - was fourteen. Plainer and quieter than his brother and Robert, he still managed to carry the icy solemnity of the Starks even at that young age. Not that anything could be done about it, but Tya found herself thinking that he might be a better lord than Brandon; though less personable, he seemed just as strong-willed, more steadfast in temperament, and also took his duties much more seriously.

Rohanne and Lyanna seemed to be kindred spirits; although Lyanna was far more vocal and less blunt in her manner, they clearly shared the same reckless sense of fun. Tya had despaired at the sight of finding the two girls 'sparring' with two broomsticks in a courtyard, as Jaime, both Stark boys and Robert Baratheon watched, laughing.

"My lady," All four of the boys - young men, really - acknowledged her instantly when they saw her, even the wild Brandon. It was good to know that she still inspired fear, even with the king slighting her at every opportunity. Tya nodded back, about to intervene when the girls had yet to finish play-fighting, but Rohanne abruptly won before she could say anything, Lyanna's broomstick going flying.

"Mother," The girl said respectfully enough, though Tya caught her small triumphant smile at her victory. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jaime and Eddard Stark being discreetly passed several coins from the other two, no doubt winnings from a bet.

"Your father and I wish to speak to you," She told Rohanne. "In private,"

The girl clearly wanted to stay but knew better than to argue, setting down her broomstick.

"Yes, Mother," Her lips twitched as she glanced back to the others. "Brandon thinks he could beat Jaime with a sword,"

"How good could you possibly be, Lannister?" The older boy scoffed at her son. "You're not even three-and-ten, and your sister's taller than you are," Cersei was indeed an inch taller than Jaime, as girls tended to be at that age.

Robert Baratheon laughed. Tya raised an eyebrow, but as ever her son had a quick retort.

"Try me, Stark," He said with a sharp smile. "So far it seems that Lady Lyanna is the most fearsome of your family,"

"Come on," Tya murmured to her daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder and steering her away from the increasingly vocal bickering that would inevitably end a sparring match, which her son would win.

Jason was the one to tell her. Rohanne took the news about her soon-to-be-announced betrothal to Brandon with a shrug, though as predicted seemed glad to be marrying north rather than south.

"Brandon is fun," She said. "I like Ned more, though,"

"You're too honest," Jason said with a chuckle. "Are you sure you're a Lannister?"

Tya shot him a glare, but only because Aerys had made another choice comment about the parentage of her children the other week; this time about Rohanne's vivid red hair, and distinctly golden-haired parents, clearly choosing to forget that Tya's own mother was a redhead, as was their grandmother.

"If any of them isn't a Lannister, it's Damon," She said to her husband after their daughter had gone. "He's too soft-hearted,"

"He's five," Jason shook his head, with an annoyed look at her. "He's allowed to be. Besides, just because he's not running around with a sword and hitting things like Jaime did doesn't mean that he's soft,"

Damon was a sensitive boy in that he cared deeply about people and animals, having saved a litter of kittens from being drowned by the cook, cooing over them like a girl would, and crying when he saw the hunt come back with a dead deer. Despite that, he had got into several fights with other children for bullying, or being cruel to their pets, and had even told Cersei off for being rude to the servants once. And though all her children would lash out at any whisper of mockery towards their youngest brother, Damon spent the most time around him as they were so close in age and was always ready to leap in and defend him.

Tyrion knew that people laughed at him, even at the young age of four. For that reason, he was rather guarded and wary around strangers, though with his family became a bright and clever little boy, who could read fluently already.

"He does have a temper," Tya admitted. "That's something, I suppose,"

*

"Lady Tya," Despite her weakness in the birthing bed, Morya Brax was not a shy or retiring woman; she rather reminded Tya of Genna, only less persuasive (even now, Tya's sister was one of the few who could get away with going directly against her). "Cersei's actions were improper and dangerous. Four highborn girls gallivanting alone into the woods - it's asking for trouble, gods only know what could've happened. Let alone this nonsense about a witch,"

That day, Cersei had snuck away from the tourney to visit some fortune-telling old woman who lived outside Lannisport, along with her cousin Janei, who was seven, and two of Janei's companions, Melara Hetherspoon and Jeyne Farman. Tya had only found out when Janei, terrified from the encounter, had told her mother, who had marched to find her.

"My daughter knows what she did was foolish," Tya replied evenly. "Although from what I hear, it was only her and Lady Melara who wished to go - your Janei could have stayed with the Farman girl, if she truly wished it. And the countless Lannister guards assigned to her,"

Morya's lips pressed together.

"Janei is traumatised," She said. "She's a sensitive child - the old hag said something to her that she's too scared to repeat. Now she's insisting that she never wants to be Lady Lannister, and doesn't want to marry Jaime,"

The betrothal between the cousins had been announced earlier in the year, to prevent the bannermen from taking offence at their offers for Janei's hand being refused. Jaime was not best pleased, but accepted the news with a nod and a sardonic smile; age twelve, he was now squiring for Tygett, still at the Rock taking lessons from Kevan.

"A sensitive child," Tya's lips thinned. "Just what we need the Lady of Casterly Rock to be,"

"Which is why we're marrying her to your son, is it not?" Morya raised an impetuous eyebrow. "She has the claim, he has the authority," Her tone belied how displeased she was about that. No doubt she had wished to rule through her weak daughter. Instead, Tya would rule through her careless son. Assuming she outlived Kevan, of course, which wasn't a pleasant idea, or a likely one; she had more enemies than her brother ever would.

"Precisely," She replied rather coldly. There was an uncomfortable pause. "What is it exactly you want from me with regard to this situation? I will speak to Cersei - she did act foolishly - but if you're expecting anything more, don't," Her warning stare prevented the woman from protesting. This hardly warrants a beating. "In return, encourage your daughter to grow a spine. She'll need it in the future,"

*

There was a faint ringing in Tya's ears. She hadn't been this furious for a long while. Even her rage when confronted the rumours that Tyrion was Aerys' bastard was overshadowed by this.

"You and your husband are mere servants of the crown. No servant's daughter is fit to marry a prince of royal blood,"

The king's rudely-delivered rejection of the offer of Cersei's hand for Rhaegar echoed around her head. It came from his fear of her power and ambition, his suspicion of his eldest son, his paranoia that his Hand was out to get him. Keep this up and I soon will be.

At least it hadn't been public. She had taken the king aside when he had been in a rare good mood - he had seemed like his old self again, sociable and gregarious - and put the offer to him. Aerys' expression had immediately darkened and he said that great insult. Tya had been so angry that she had no reply for the king, who had smiled nastily in apparent triumph and left her stood there.

She would not forget that insult, not until the day she died. She had been called many things in her life, many of them true - ruthless, cold, murderer - many of them not - whore, witch, adulterer - but no one had ever dared to call her a servant. She was the daughter of the richest, proudest house in Westeros. Her family possessed the one castle that even the Targaryens may not have taken, mountains of gold lying underneath it. She was Hand of the King - the first woman to hold the position - and had run the realm as though she were king for her entire tenure. To suggest that her daughter was not worthy of the prince...

It was one thing to refuse the offer of a marriage alliance. It was quite another to insult her in such a way.

If it had been up to Tya, there would have been no feast to end the tourney. It wasn't, however, and Lady Morya - for all her faults - had arranged a magnificent occasion, with minstrels, dancers and a troupe of mummers to entertain. A shame her daughter Janei clung to her throughout, too timid to even socialise with the other children.

Kevan had made a speech at the start, making a toast to Prince Viserys and the king himself, before announcing - with a nod to a satisfied Lord Rickard - that he was delighted to announce the betrothal of his niece, Lady Rohanne Lannister, to Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell. A ripple of shock went through the crowd, although they'd been whispering about a potential match since the arrival of the Starks.

At least that covered any rumours of her rather humiliatingly refused offer. Though if Aerys thought to tell anyone - she could just see him announcing it to the hall, to mock her - she may just run him through with her dagger.

Tya had eaten little during the meal, and remained in her seat at the high table whilst most others got up to dance. The expression on her face no doubt warned everyone off; even her brothers were giving her a wide berth. She had spoken with Jason - raged to him - right after her conversation with Aerys, and his eyes had darkened at the insult, though as ever was playing the king's friend that night. She knew he was right to do so, that at least one of them needed to be in favour, but no matter how fake she knew it was, it still rankled when she saw him laugh at Aerys' jokes, clap him on the back and clink their cups together before drinking.

It was odd, how Jason had always been in the king's favour, considering how Aerys had resented Tya for marrying someone who wasn't him. You'd think he would resent her husband too, yet it was always her to blame.

The servants had given her a delicate glass wine goblet that night, which was a mistake; she had to put it down, lest she squeeze the stem hard enough to break. She finished the wine first, in one gulp, uncharacteristic for her, normally preferring to keep her wits about her, never drinking more than one glass. She'd drunk three that night. Hardly a considerable amount, but more than she was used to. Not near enough for anyone to notice, though she wasn't sat straight upright in her chair as usual, but leaning back slightly, similar to the arrogant way Aerys often lounged on his throne (and inevitably cut himself).

Tya watched the hall. Jaime and Cersei were dancing together beautifully, golden mirrors of each other. Damon and Tyrion were of course in bed asleep at this late hour, but Rohanne was dancing with Lyanna Stark, before Brandon cut in with a grin.

She looked happy enough to dance with her betrothed, and he seemed happy to indulge her, although it was clear she treated him the same way she would treat Jaime or her Uncle Gerion, and he treated her as he would Lyanna. Tya suspected the boy really was just pleased to have another seven years of freedom before his bride-to-be came of age.

"My lady," Speak of the Stranger. Gerion had approached her with a wide grin, holding out his hand. "Would you honour me with a dance,"

Her youngest brother was one-and-twenty, and as of yet happily unmarried; his former betrothed, Elissa Serrett, had scandalously been found in bed with a household knight at the age of sixteen and quietly married off. No one had bothered to find Gerion another woman to marry. Tya certainly wasn't going to bother, not now the future of House Lannister involved her own son. Gerion clearly appreciated her uncharacteristic laxness on the matter either way.

"Haven't you got a horde of eager young women trailing after you?" Rather than your cold, stiff elder sister. Gerion had certainly grown up the most handsome of the five children of Tytos Lannister, and was also the only one left unmarried, making him more than eligible to any eager ladies.

"Alas, I feel like a partner who will grant me a break from giggling and insipid remarks," He said in good humour, eyes twinkling. "Unless you've drunk more wine than usual, I'm sure you're the best option, dear sister. And the most regal lady in the room - certainly the most exclusive. Everyone else is too scared to ask you for a dance,"

"As they should be," Tya didn't quite smile, but near enough. "You know you're ridiculous with all that flattery, don't you?" She got up nonetheless, despite her sharp tone.

"You looked like you could do with some," Her brother shrugged as they joined the dancing.

"Charming,"

He laughed. Gerion laughed a lot, and grinned a lot too. It often unnerved her - as anyone's laughter did - but he sounded so much like their father when he did so that it brought up unpleasant memories.

"Can you deny it?" He asked. "I've never seen you sit anything less than ramrod straight before. Nor drink more than one glass of wine at a feast,"

"I'm hardly stumbling over my feet,"

"I wouldn't blame you if you were," Her brother said. "After five-and-thirty years of sobriety, and five-and-ten of being Hand to - " He broke off with a sly smile at her warning look. "Well, you deserve to get outrageously drunk at any rate,"

"Absolutely not," She said flatly. "I would end up telling the king precisely what I think of him," Which was rather tempting, but would cause more trouble than it was worth.

"You make it very clear to everyone else what you think of them," Gerion grinned. "Why should he be any different?"

Tya just shook her head.

"If you can't see why, it's a good thing you'll never inherit the Rock,"

"You're probably right," It reassured her that he had no bitterness about that, his easy smile not even flickering. "Janei will certainly make a better lord than I - she's terrified of offending the king,"

"Janei's terrified of everyone," Tya grimaced. "I did mean to ask you - what do you think of Lady Alinor? Is she barren?" She could have asked Tygett - Alinor was his wife, after all - but Gerion was far easier to talk to. From what she had observed, the couple got along very well, seeming to be close friends - she made Tygett laugh a lot more than most others did - yet there was not even a hint of children after years of seemingly happy marriage.

"No," Gerion snorted. "Just prefers the company of her handmaids to any male attentions. You couldn't have made a better match for Tyg. He's happy, she's happy, the bannermen are happy and there is no danger of your darling Jaime being pushed any further back in succession,"

It took Tya a second to figure out what he meant by that.

"So long as it's kept discreet," She said carefully. "You're right. I couldn't have made a better match," She didn't care to know what her brother did or didn't do in his bedchamber, so long as nothing got out that could be made a mockery of.

"Now you just have to marry me off to a peasant girl and your way to the Rock will be clear,"

Her brother was joking, she knew, but she shot him a glare regardless. He just laughed, then laughed some more at how she tensed at the sound.

Chapter Text

EDITED: 8th Jan 2022

277AC

Tya had thought very little of Denys Darklyn's proposal at the time. She had been holding court from the Iron Throne - Aerys had been overcome with another fit of uncharacteristic piety and had decided to pray with the High Septon - when the proud Lord Darklyn had come before her with the desire to win a charter for Duskendale that gave the town more autonomy from the crown.

It was a foolish idea to ask, and she would have been a fool to agree. Tya refused him with some sharp words, and when he became angry at a woman telling him no and asked to speak to the king, she dismissed him with some even sharper ones. She then put the matter to the back of her mind - as close as Tya came to forgetting things - believing it sorted.

Darklyn had the nerve to come before the crown with a borderline insulting request for a charter, but she had never thought he would dare to start withholding his payments to the crown. Yet that was exactly what he did.

Evidently, during his time in King's Landing, the man had observed the relationship between King Aerys and Lady Tya; how when she suggested anything, he often made a point of doing the opposite, slighting her at every opportunity and delighting in the (very quiet) rumours that he was the father of her son Tyrion. A matter that she had believed to be a non-issue suddenly became a thorn in her side, as Lord Denys wrote directly to the king himself, inviting him to Duskendale - without the 'nagging presence' of his Hand - to hear his petition for a new charter himself.

It would be unwise for Aerys to accept the visit for multiple reasons, first and foremost that it set a terrible precedent; lords could not be seen to dictate their king's actions and get away with such insolence. Second, because if Darklyn was fool enough to withhold his payments from a court all but led by the woman who had destroyed the Reynes and Tarbecks for doing a similar thing, he was fool enough to do something rash like lay a trap for Aerys.

There were other layers to this, however. In the Small Council meeting where the king read out the letter from Lord Denys detailing all of this, Tya did not immediately weigh in on that matter for this reason. This was not unusual for her - she preferred to listen and then speak her piece at the end after judging the situation correctly, and people tended to do as she said - but now more than ever she needed time to think.

She knew that if she told the king to refuse the visit, Aerys may go anyway just to spite her. And perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for him to walk into a trap. Rhaegar could be king then; Tya was starting to feel more comfortable with her position in that event, considering how the prince still sought her out almost regularly to discuss various matters.

But if she encouraged the visit, and it was a trap - or even if Aerys refused to go because she told him to - there would no doubt be (reasonable) accusations of treason flying around. Accepting the invitation was such a blatantly stupid thing to do that for Tya - whom all could admit was not stupid, even if they despised her - to advise the king to accept was as good as a confession of wishing him dead.

No, she would have to work on the assumption that Darklyn wasn't as suicidally moronic as she feared - hoped? - he might be, and tell Aerys to avoid the visit on the basis of not indulging the demands of every lord who fancied a favour from the crown. And he would likely do the opposite.

So far, the king seemed to be leaning towards declining the invitation. Time to remedy that.

"I agree with you, your Grace," She said, and everyone seemed rather surprised; those words had become incredibly rare from her in recent years. "Darklyn presumes too much. If you intend to go to Duskendale, do so with an army and demand the gold he owes you. If he refuses, storm the town and remove his head - his heir should learn to obey well enough. Perhaps take a hostage for good measure, and you'll have no more trouble from Duskendale during your reign,"

Aerys' eyes narrowed and a nasty smirk twisted his lips.

"Oh, well if Lady Lannister thinks so, then let her will be done," He said mockingly. "You were the one who refused his charter in the first place, were you not? No wonder the man is acting this way - you have a remarkable talent in enraging men, my lady, for no particular reason other than you took an initial dislike. Perhaps his request was reasonable, and you refused out of a woman's pettiness. Perhaps I will go to Duskendale after all, just to hear him out,"

Tya did not have to fake the cold expression on her face, as Jason winced at her across the table, hiding his smirk behind his hand; whether he was laughing at her expense or the king's was anyone's guess, although it was likely both of them. Aerys was testing her out; he hadn't convinced himself yet. If she had a strong enough reaction, his mind would be swayed.

"Regardless of whether his request was reasonable, he should not act with such disrespect. Surely you should take it as an insult that he sees you as a soft touch to negotiate with, knowing I will not grant him what he wants? Your Grace, in the strongest possible terms I urge you to refuse this invitation,"

That did it.

"You have as much nerve as Darklyn!" The king scoffed. "You think me incapable of handling the situation without you hissing in my ear? Insidious woman! I will settle this myself, in person, and Duskendale will come to heel,"

And that was that. Whatever happened now, Tya was safe from any accusations of treason that may be thrown her way, and would be proven right whatever happened.

"Insidious woman!" Jason declared once they were back in the Tower of the Hand, earning him a glare. "Ha! I'll be using that from now on. I take back what I said about everything out of the king's mouth being foolish,"

"Did the king call you that, Mother?" Cersei was sat at the window and looked up with narrow eyes. The look on her face confirmed it, and her daughter's eyes flashed. "How do you bite your tongue and let him insult you like that?"

"It serves a purpose," She replied. "You must remember, Cersei, that openly rising to anger is rarely the best course of action,"

It was odd, Tya thought as she watched the king ride out of the castle with his small escort. For once she cared very little about how a situation turned out now she'd made her move. Either Aerys came back unsuccessful, angry and wanting an army, or he didn't come back at all. There was little chance of this negotiation going successfully; the king was impossible to negotiate with.

As predicted, the news came back within the week. Pycelle brought the letter straight to Tya, wheezing from having hurried from the rookery as fast as he could, and she couldn't even bring herself to hide her small amused smile. The Grand Maester was her creature through and through, he wouldn't tell anyone.

"Jason," She called out to her husband, on the other side of the room playing at wrestling with Tyrion and Damon. "Negotiations with the Darklyns seem to have deteriorated,"

"Is his Grace coming back with his tail between his legs to raise an army and pretend it was his idea all along?" Her husband asked hopefully, holding their giggling youngest son up by both ankles as Damon tried to save him.

"No," She replied. "His Grace will currently be sat in a cell awaiting rescue from our army - Lord Darklyn has made him a hostage,"

The situation was serious, of course, and outwardly Tya treated it as such, but inside she couldn't help but be amused. No one could blame this on anyone but Aerys and his arrogance. And Denys Darklyn, of course, although it didn't even need to be said that the man would pay for his actions. Not only had he taken the king prisoner and held him to ransom, but he had killed every member of Aerys' escort, including Ser Gwayne Gaunt of the Kingsguard.

It all fell to her to resolve, of course. Well, her and Jason; she set her husband in charge of the army sent to siege Duskendale by land and sea, while she ruled in King's Landing in the absence of the king and Master of Laws. Jason was a mediocre fighter but more than capable of commanding a force, and there would have been outrage if she had taken charge of it herself. Tolerating a female Hand was bad enough for many men, let alone a woman who led soldiers and knights on a battlefield.

Her husband ended up gone longer than she expected. Darklyn clearly recognised that his life was forfeit and the only hope he had was the fact Aerys was his hostage; he thus threatened to execute the king at the first sign of anyone trying to storm the town. It ended up as a stalemate; what else could be done?

Tya had a rather enjoyable half a year whilst Aerys was rotting in a dungeon somewhere. Her orders were followed to the letter, the japes and slights towards her stopped immediately - those who had done so before to win the king's favour now scraped and cringed for her own instead - and she managed to pass through many useful decrees that she had attempted to before but been stopped for no reason other than petty spite.

It got to the point, however, where waiting any longer would become ridiculous. The town had to be on its knees with hunger after all these months, just after winter too; what had Darklyn been thinking? But much longer and Aerys would starve to death, and no one would look any more favourably on her for that than they would if she ordered the town to be attacked and they executed him.

At least this way she would see him die.

Tya rode out to Duskendale herself. She hadn't been in a war camp since she was twenty, dealing with the Reynes and Tarbecks, and found it much the same. Full of bored men, desperate women and shit. Although on this occasion everyone knew why she was here, and there was a stir in the air; after months of waiting around, they would finally have a city to sack, and perhaps a dead king too, which of course only added to the excitement amongst the common soldiers.

Before she could even make it into the war council, however - she had scarcely dismounted her horse - Ser Barristan Selmy approached her and dropped to one knee in the mud before her, oh-so-nobly.

"My lady," He said, loud enough that the many people around them - lords and knights included - heard. "I beseech you, give me one night to enter the keep myself and attempt to rescue the king before you storm the town. I believe I can be successful, and would not be able to live with myself or my vows if I did not at least try,"

An outbreak of murmuring followed that statement. Oh, why did men have such moronic ideas? Did Selmy think he was the hero in a song? Barristan the Bold indeed.

But Tya could hardly refuse, for everyone knew that if they stormed the town now, it was likely that Darklyn would follow through on his threat and they would see Aerys lose his head on the battlements. A sweet sight that would be, too; one of the reasons she had come in person. If it got out - which it would - that Barristan Selmy himself had offered to save the king and she had refused...

"Very well," She granted, trying to keep the edge from her tone, locking eyes with her husband who looked as irritated by the turn of events as she felt. "You may try. If you can do such a feat before dawn tomorrow, Ser, we will all thank you for it," No need to give him much time to plan.

Denys Darklyn had evidently heard of Tya's presence in the camp outside his gates, and like everyone, he knew what that meant. The man appeared on the town's walls within hours of her arrival. At first, she did not recognise the emaciated wretch he dragged up with him, but then Jason swore quietly beside her and her eyes widened a fraction.

She had believed that the Darklyns were keeping the king in conditions fit for his station, at least, but Aerys had clearly been housed in a dungeon. His hair was long, filthy and matted, his once-fine clothes covered in dirt and mould, with shackles around his ankles and wrists. She couldn't see much more from here, but of course it would be much worse up close. Most striking of all, his head was hung and he didn't look up at all.

"As much as it amuses me to see him in such a state," Jason murmured so only she could hear. "If Selmy gets him out of there alive, he'll have lost any sanity remaining to him,"

She could only nod. Best pray he does not.

"Did you have to bring your wife to handle this for you, Lannister?" Lord Denys called out to them. His tone was desperate, underneath the bravado.

"Fine words, from a dead man," Jason replied with a leer.

"To you, Darklyn, Lady Tya might as well be the Stranger riding to Duskendale," One of the lords of the Crownlands heckled from nearby.

No doubt the man knew that already, for he did not reply. A woman with tanned skin who must have been his Myrish wife, Lady Serala, spoke instead.

"You hear that?" She actually elbowed the king cruelly. "Your favourite whore has come to save you. Or sign your death warrant, more like,"

Aerys did look up then, practically snarling at the woman, though a guard yanked on his chains, preventing him doing anything else. There were a few chortles from amongst their ranks, which were quickly silenced with one glance from Tya.

"Is Lady Serala deranged, do you think?" Jason turned to her, tone light. "Or just suicidal?"

"I'll see her hang alongside her husband for that," Tya replied evenly.

"Aerys won't let them off that easily," He said. "Nor us, for letting him languish for half a year there," He was right.

Again, Tya prayed that Selmy failed. 

But of course, Barristan the Bold pulled off a miracle.

She was woken several hours before dawn that night by the knight, with an escort of guards, half-carrying the king into the tent she shared with Jason. It was presumably the only one large or grand enough, but she wished they had given her a warning. Why couldn't both of them just have been killed on the way out?

"Next time, announce yourselves," She said sharply, as all the men turned sheepishly around whilst she slid out of bed and put on a robe over her nightclothes.

Aerys had been placed in what was likely the one proper chair in the entire camp. He wasn't saying anything at all, just staring, the light from the torches held by the guards making his eyes flicker as though on fire.

"Your Grace?" She stayed back while Jason approached him carefully, knowing the sight of her would likely just set him off. "It is a gift from the Father himself - the greatest relief - that you are returned to us. Ser Barristan has done a great service to the kingdom this night," Tya could hear the sarcasm in his words, though doubted anyone else could.

Still Aerys remained silent. This close, she could see the cuts and bruises on every bit of exposed flesh she could see, the starved look of his face... the madness in his eyes.

"I want them dead," Finally the king spoke, his voice rasping and weak. "Dead, dead, dead and buried. Everyone in that cursed castle, dead. That wicked bitch most of all," For once he wasn't referring to Tya.

"Darklyn will surely surrender within the hour," Selmy spoke up, looking tired. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and sneaking into both the town and the castle would have taken it out of him. "We didn't leave quietly,"

Sure enough, the sounds of the town hurriedly stirring could be heard from here, even though it wasn't yet dawn. Yes, Duskendale would open their gates soon enough.

"No mercy," Aerys hissed, emaciated hands shaking as he greedily gulped down the cup of water someone had passed him, some spilling down his ragged beard. "Not for any of them. I want their heads and innards on spikes before the moon rises again. I want their castle razed to the ground. No mercy, only fire and blood,"

"I can see how poorly you were treated," Jason said sympathetically. Tya bristled as she recognised the same kind tone he sometimes used with her, to avoid offending her pride or patronising her, and he shot her a rather wicked look, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"They threw me in a dungeon!" The king exclaimed, eyes shining with fury. "Left me to rot in the dark, with only rotten food and stale water, except when they dragged me up for that Myrish whore to taunt and torment, Darklyn not saying a word - me, the king!" He paused, breathing heavily. "I saw things, down in the dark,"

Aerys' eyes suddenly fell on Tya, standing in the darkest corner of the tent for the first time, and he froze.

"You," He said, getting to his feet as unsteady as a foal and waving away assistance from one of the guards. He pointed a shaking finger her way. "I saw you, in your wedding dress, playing tricks on my mind," Jason pulled a disgusted face behind him that only she would've seen. "You whispered sweet things and smiled one minute, then glared down at me and slit my throat the next," He took a step towards her, as Jason, Ser Barristan and the three guards watched in a horrified fascination.

"I can assure you, your Grace, that I was in King's Landing the entire time,"

"Do you take me for a fool?" He snarled. "I know you were," 

She had not gotten the non-patronising tone down quite as well as her husband, apparently. 

He staggered, about to fall on his shaky legs, and seeing as she was the only one in reach, Tya had to be the one to move hastily forward to steady him. Aerys tripped against her, hands grasping at her shoulders. He both looked and smelled foul - like a dungeon - and his breath stank of rot, making her stomach turn.

He didn't let go of her when he steadied himself, however. The king reached out with one filthy, long-nailed hand and grabbed her none-too-gently by the jaw, tilting her head upwards to meet his eyes. She was very aware that her hair was loose and she only wore a thin robe and nightgown, both thankfully falling to her ankles; she'd never been around him in such a state of undress since her bedding ceremony.

"Tya," He said her name almost indecently, head tilting as he considered her. She made to pull back but he held firm, other hand snaking around her waist, preventing her from moving unless she was to force him. Which, in this state, he would no doubt take as an act of treason.

"Your Grace, let me assist you to your chair," Jason's tone was no longer amused, and she saw him step closer.

"Be quiet for once, Lannister," The king hissed, not taking his eyes off her.

"Let go of me," Tya spoke in a low voice, furious at him manhandling her in such a way. "Your Grace," The grudgingly given title belied her hatred.

"You are too proud by half," He sneered. "That Darklyn bitch seemed to envy you - the power you have, at least. She called you my whore," She held his gaze, refusing to cower, and saw the madness dancing there, so much worse than ever before. "Is that what you're here for, Tya?" She willed Jason not to say anything too angry, willed herself not to wrench her face out of his grasp and slap him soundly. "Or did you come to be my murderer instead? If Selmy hadn't volunteered, you'd have stormed the town and let them kill me. Don't look at me like that!" 

The king spat the last part abruptly, tone somehow getting even nastier. His hand moved to grip her hair, yanking her head further backwards in a way that made her blood boil as she was pressed closer to him in order to keep her balance. Her robe slipped off her shoulder, yet she could not fix it.

"Your Grace - " Jason moved forward but she shot him a look that made her husband grind his teeth and stop where he stood.

"Get off me, Aerys," Tya forced her next words out from between her teeth, unable to make them sound amiable or reassuring as he disrespected her in such a blatant way, in front of her husband, Selmy and these guards.

"You dare presume to order your king - ?"

"I have never been your whore," She all but spat, cutting him off and not caring as his eyes bulged in anger. "As you well know. You also know that Darklyn would never have killed you - you were the only thing keeping him alive. We'd have sacked the town, then negotiated with the castle - your safe return, a couple of hostages and a hefty fine in exchange for sparing them. Then once you were returned, he and his wife would be dead,"

Chances are that's what would have happened. Or Darklyn would've killed the king out of spite when he realised all was lost, and wisely not trusted any offer from her lips. She could have lived with either option, though it wouldn't pay to say that now.

"He would have killed me!" The king's voiced raised abruptly, a bit of spittle flying from his mouth onto her face. She refused to flinch back, though his breath was still foul. "That wretch would have slit my throat like a pig and hung me from the walls whilst you watched and laughed!"

"What would you have had us do?" Tya lost her temper, even as his grip tightened in her hair. "We had sieged this town for six months - by the look of you, you'd have starved to death if we waited any longer! How would you rather die, weak and rotting in a cell knowing your army sat outside the walls, or perhaps out in the open with a chance of escape?"

Aerys laughed, high and cruel.

"As if you cared, so long as I was dead! You and my treacherous son planned for me to never make it out alive,"

"You know that's madness," She said coldly. "Rhaegar has little love for me. Besides, surely you realise that if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing here now,"

There was a beat of silence after that, and Tya wondered if she'd gone too far. She didn't care. Aerys still had her by the hair, and she was focusing on not wincing.

"Your Grace," Jason had reached his limit. "Come, let us bring some servants to draw you a bath and get some clean clothes. Perhaps a meal, so you can look yourself when we deal with the Darklyns and Hollards - their fate is up to you, after all,"

Her husband's voice was almost as cold as her own. She had never seen Jason so openly angry, not in front of the king, though Aerys didn't seem to notice. It occurred to her that he had never seen how Aerys was at his worst with her before now, only heard of it after. She was thankful he had kept his temper and listened when she bade him not intervene earlier, waiting for a lull in the argument.

"A blessing that I never agreed to wed a pit viper like you," The king hissed at her. It's as though I begged for it. He released her hair, though, and she immediately stepped away, resisting the urge to brush herself down, though she did wipe the spit from her face. "For if we shared a son, you'd have killed me years ago to rule with him as a puppet," A fair assessment.

"A blessing for everyone that we do not," She replied, her fury at how he had disrespected her rising to such insurmountable levels that it was an effort to not shake with it. But she couldn't push her luck any further, or perhaps never again, not with the king so damaged and... and mad.

Aerys left with the guards and Ser Barristan, who shot her an almost apologetic look. Why was it men only ever showed sympathy when she was made weak and vulnerable in front of them, but were happy to glower at her the rest of the time?

Tya started to shake the moment the tent flap closed - in fury, not fear - pulling her robe back over her shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to grab the sword that lay on the table and run the king through with it, have him beg on his knees before her, make him regret every single time he had slighted or disrespected her.

"Seven hells," Jason came to embrace her, and she resisted the urge to throw him off out of pride, instead letting her head settle against his shoulder, though her eyes remained wide open. "He'll pay for that," 

"Yes," She replied, already planning how. "He will,"

*

Denys Darklyn surrendered as dawn broke, clearly knowing that all was lost. He begged for mercy on his knees outside the walls of Duskendale, lips spilling apologies and pleas for his family to be spared. Aerys ordered him beheaded with a manic glee, having described exactly what awful deeds he was going to do to his family.

The king was clearly going for the vengeance of legend, his own version of The Reynes of Castamere, though even Tya would admit that what he did at Duskendale that day was far worse than what she did in the west all those years ago.

Though the townspeople were spared the worst of it, every single soul in the castle was put to death, servants and guardsmen too. It made for a gruesome scene as Tya swept through the now eerily-silent castle, though her stomach was strong and she did not flinch from the countless bodies piled up in the halls, nor the foul stench of death. Blood, sweat, smoke, tears, burst bowels...

The members of House Darklyn and House Hollard, their allies, were rounded up and beheaded in front of a cowed audience of townsfolk. Men, women, children, old folk all met the headsman's axe, their crying and begging falling on the king's ears, who delighted to hear it. Barristan Selmy had to plead for the life of the youngest Hollard boy, a child named Dontos, to be spared, but the rest were slaughtered.

And Lord Denys' wife, Serala of Myr, suffered the worst fate of all. Her tongue was torn out first, then her womanly parts, before she was burned on the stake, screaming and screaming. The woman had insulted Tya, and she would've been glad to see her hang or beheaded like the rest, but unlike Aerys she took no joy in such gratuitous brutality.

Nor the fact that too many people were eyeing her as Lady Serala burned, as though this was what happened to all women who rose too high.

Chapter Text

277AC

The king had refused to leave the Red Keep since his return from Duskendale. Nor had he let anyone near him with a blade except the Kingsguard, not even to cut his hair, which had grown long and rather straggly. His nails were worse, either ragged or just starting to curl over at the ends.

It was clear the experience had deeply shaken him, and with all of House Darklyn dead, they would never find out exactly what horrors he had gone through. Not that Tya cared more than morbid curiosity, and the fact that whatever had happened there had plunged the king into what could only be described as blatant madness.

Aerys had always been mercurial and proud, hot-tempered but quick to laugh, and quick to change his mind. In his youth, that had made him charming. To most people, at least; it had always rather annoyed her. In the later years before Duskendale, he had acted rashly and foolishly, particularly in his treatment of his Hand. Yet now, his jealousy of Tya's reputation and his suspicious nature were ten times more exaggerated than ever before, beyond simple spite and into manic paranoia and outright delusion. 

Many people in court had asked Tya why she didn't just resign in the face of such treatment. She had considered it, in truth, but it wasn't like she had anything to go onto. She would always be welcome in Casterly Rock, yes, but Kevan was Lord Lannister despite the fact that they corresponded on a lot of matters to do with the west, and was very capable with her on the other side of Westeros. 

If Tya wasn't Hand of the King, she would fade into irrelevance, as would her children. It said a lot that someone with her pride would rather be publicly insulted on a regular basis than suffer through that.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to put up with it, however. She had not met with the king alone since his forceful attempt at seducing her years ago, something she had initially resented doing as it made her look like she was afraid of him, but now she found herself increasingly grateful for it. The Aerys of several years ago was insufferable, but at least had the wits to realise that raping Lord Lannister's sister - a woman who had lots of allies within his own court - would be a bad idea. She wasn't so sure about the Aerys she was faced with now.

It was the paranoia that was perhaps the most trying thing to deal with, however. The king saw evidence of treachery everywhere, concerning Tya most of all; he still under the impression that she and Prince Rhaegar had intended for him to die at Duskendale so the prince could replace him and make Cersei his queen. 

Whether she had intended that or not was irrelevant; there was no evidence of such a thing, and it wasn't like she had planned for Lord Darklyn to go rogue and kidnap him.

Tya suspected that this was the king's reasoning for inviting Steffon Baratheon to court, appointing him to the small council as Master of Ships. The two men were cousins - Lord Baratheon's mother had been Princess Rhaelle Targaryen, sister to Aerys' father - and had always gotten along in their youth whenever the Lord of Storm's End had come to visit court. The king wanted an ally, someone more loyal to him than Tya.

A glaring issue was that Baratheon had never spent enough time around his cousin to dislike him, particularly not in recent years. That was likely to change the longer he spent at court. Lord Steffon was a genuine and reasonable man, calm and collected, who was intelligent yet cared little for scheming. Not one to needlessly flatter the king or mindlessly agree with him to gain favour, which would mean the two would inevitably come to blows. 

Surprisingly, Tya did not dislike Baratheon, nor think him a fool, only a man who did not particularly enjoy politics. What she did dislike was the whispers going around the court that the king had invited his cousin to court to make him the new Hand, after Tya was executed for high treason.

"I didn't start those rumours, my lady," Lord Steffon had approached her unprompted after one small council meeting, startlingly direct, with that easy friendliness of his. "And I don't know who did. I don't envy you being Hand - if his Grace offered me the post, I'd turn it down," He laughed, then. "Aerys is my cousin, so I am loyal to him of course, yet I don't know how you've put up with him so well all these years, my lady. You know what he says about you when you're not around, surely?"

"That I spend every waking hour plotting to undermine him so my daughter can marry his son?" She raised an eyebrow. "An improvement from what he was saying five years ago," 

"Oh, he still speculates on what you'd be like to lay with, if that's what you're referring to," Baratheon said with a small grimace; at the idea of laying with her, or because he disapproved of speaking so crudely about a lady, she wasn't sure. "And though he never says it, he implies rather heavily that your youngest son is his,"

Tya turned to stare at her husband, stood beside her. He hadn't mentioned that.

"There's only so many times I can relay the same thing to you before it becomes pointless and dull," Jason shrugged. "Believe it or not, I do not enjoy telling my wife how the king lusts after her still,"

He made it up to her by instructing one of their trusted guards to discreetly spread around the nickname 'King Scab' without it being traced back. Aerys had never been careful when sat on the Iron Throne, and throughout his reign normally sported one or two cuts or grazes from the nasty chair, but since Duskendale he would cut himself every day at least three times, shrieking in anger and surprise every time. The king loathed the name, though none were brave enough to say it to his face.

So far, Steffon Baratheon seemed to be no one in particular's ally, but at least she could rely on him to spout sense at most meetings, and the king actually listened to him, as much as he had ever listened to anyone.

Of course, Aerys had to ruin this small respite by sending Baratheon and his wife off to Volantis to find a bride for Rhaegar of 'proud Valyrian blood', seeing as apparently none of the ladies in Westeros were good enough. A gesture that managed to offend every single house in the kingdoms at once. There weren't many who were keen to have a foreigner queen; the last had been Larra Rogare, wife of Viserys II, which hadn't exactly gone well.

Yet there were those at court who were glad for it, of course, those who delighted at the idea of Tya's downfall. She had heard plenty of whispers that once Baratheon returned in ten months, he would be rewarded with the Hand's badge if he was successful. And in that eventuality, Lady Lannister's head would be on a spike before the day was out.

The worst of it was, she couldn't even deny those whispers to herself. No doubt Baratheon would be rewarded, if he came back with the perfect bride. And it was painfully obvious that she herself had fallen in the king's favour increasingly as the years went on, and the only thing stopping her from being dismissed was... well, no one was quite sure. She was an extremely capable administrator and excelled in her job even now, hampered with a mad king, yet Aerys had shown that wasn't something he cared about anymore. Perhaps it was still some misplaced desire to keep her close, although she had made it very clear on multiple occasions that she was never just going to give in to his affections.

She doubted he would actually kill her, though. Surely even he realised that would start a war.  But what if he manufactured some claim of treason she had committed? What if he discovered the actual treason she was slowly and cautiously sliding the pieces in place for? She had covered her tracks well, but that only made the first option more likely. No one could rightly object to her execution because of that.

On top of all those reasonable concerns, in Lord Steffon's absence, Aerys had developed a new interest in wildfire.

Tya had thought that the king could not possibly be harder to deal with, but was proven drastically wrong. Now, there was always a member - or Wisdom, as the pretentious twits liked to call themselves - of the Guild of Alchemists scurrying around the court now, eagerly awaiting the call to set up a pyre.

For it wasn't just displays of wildfire that Aerys had the guild provide for him. No, he was now using it to execute criminals. Or those he thought were criminals, a good number of whom had likely done no wrong at all, or committed some small slight that warranted a fine or a whipping perhaps, even losing a hand, but not a screaming, agonising death being burnt at the stake.

Unlike most of the court, who merely heard about the burnings from behind closed doors, Tya had to be present as the executions were done in the name of the king's justice. She had to look too, unlike many of the guards who closed their eyes or flinched away. Aerys would pick up on it if she acted in such a way, and she had always despised seeming weak.

There were only so many times you could see men burn before you became sick of it. Even Tya's brutality had limits.

The king burning citizens for false or minor crimes was certainly doing him - and the crown as a whole - no favours, either. Previously, his madness - for she recognised his prior behaviour as the beginnings of the madness, now - had been contained largely to the small council; the court as a whole had been generally unaware that it was anything more than just Aerys' being obnoxious. 

It was very obvious now, however, to the city of King's Landing and increasingly the entire Seven Kingdoms, that the king was completely insane.

*

278AC

Lord Baratheon was not successful in his mission to find Rhaegar a suitable bride. Nor did he return to court in ten months to steal Tya's position from under her, potentially signing her death warrant.

She heard the news from Pycelle first. Lord Steffon's ship had sunk in Shipbreaker Bay on the return voyage from Volantis, in full view of his two sons waiting on the battlements of Storm's End. He and his wife had been dragged down to a watery grave, along with any of Aerys' ambitions of making his cousin Hand. 

Of course, the king had somehow found a way to convince himself that Tya had assassinated Lord Baratheon. She was unsure if she was supposed to have sacrificed to the heathen gods of old to summon the storm that killed him, or if she was lying wait in the water with an axe to break the ship's hull. But the king's paranoia was so great, believing himself to be next on her kill list - which wasn't an unreasonable concern, just not for the reasons he thought - that he now insisted on meeting with her with guards of his own.

It made for a spectacle, both the king and his Hand too wary of each other to meet alone, each conducting matters of government with a retinue behind them.

"And his Grace said he cannot even dismiss you as Hand," Pycelle was chuckling slightly as he recounted his private conversation with Aerys to her. "For fear you will have him killed for that as well. He claims he will refuse to see you, unless at least three of the Kingsguard are present,"

"What does he think I'll do?" She turned to Jason. "Leap over the table and claw his eyes out?"

"As if you've never wanted to," He replied. "You look like you might do exactly that, half the time he speaks,"

"If he continues to rely on that scheming eunuch, I just might," She said darkly. 

The newest member of the small council had been a thorn in her side since his arrival. Lord Varys, now Master of Whispers, was a eunuch from Essos. Aerys' logic in appointing him was that surely only a foreigner with no competing loyalties could be trusted to inform him of potential threats. Already the man - if he could be called that - had become known as the Spider, with his vast web of informers and spies. 

Since his arrival, Varys was ever-present at the king's side, whispering gods know what into Aerys' ear, stirring up his paranoia and madness even further. Tya had her doubts over how harmless he was to the king - everyone had an agenda - but even voicing her suspicions would be unwise at this point.

"I despise that sneaking eunuch," Jason scowled one evening as he entered her solar; he was rarely so obviously annoyed about things, tending to mock them instead of raging. "I had near enough persuaded Aerys that the proposed reforms on port taxes were a good idea to put through, but Lord Varys," He said the courtesy title with disdain. "Had to go and whisper in his ear that the merchant guilds were laughing about his foolish generosity. Now he won't hear of it,"

The children were already there with her. Rohanne was pretending to understand the complex history book that Tyrion - aged five - was trying to explain to her, at the same time as dealing with Damon trying to tell his sister about one of his new friends. Tya still felt a twist in her stomach every time she looked at her dwarf son, though it wasn't of hate, or even dislike; she certainly was a little colder with the boy than the other children, enough for Jason to reprimand her for in private on occasion, but not all that obvious.

Cersei was sat at Tya's side, and was meant to be assisting her in going over some reports though seemed somewhat bored and inattentive, to both of their mounting frustration. She looked up in interest as her father came in.

"That eunuch is truly awful," Cersei agreed, nose wrinkling. "Can you not get him sent away, Mother?"

Jason snorted before she could reply.

"He's more likely to send you away," He said to Tya, earning a glare.

"You could let him," Rohanne shrugged. "Or just leave yourself before he can. You hate him anyway,"

"Leave and do what?" Cersei acted superior as ever. Her sister pulled a face. 

"Go back to Casterly Rock. I like it better than King's Landing,"

"You might," Cersei sneered. "But how am I going to marry the prince if I'm all the way in the west? Not all of us are going to be packed off to the savage North to marry a wildling,"

"You won't marry the prince even if you stay here," Rohanne replied easily, unbothered, returning her attention to Damon who was tugging on her sleeve. Cersei loathed being ignored, and bristled, but Tya shot her a look she knew better than to go against. Her eldest daughter was too reactive, too easily wound up.

"Who am I going to marry?" Damon asked Rohanne innocently. Tyrion knew better than to ask the same question, even at his age.

"Cersei, at this rate,"

"Enough," Tya said sharply, as her younger daughter tried to suppress a smile, glaring at her husband who had started to laugh. Her eldest looked ready to throw the ink pot at her sister.

"Cersei, you inherited your mother's sense of humour," Jason told the girl, who seemed to take that as the compliment it wasn't; she loved any comparison to Tya. Rohanne and Jaime had both clearly got his own irritating humour, perhaps Tyrion too. Damon was so earnest that he usually didn't notice when others were laughing at him, so didn't react badly, but at the same time would never dream of mocking someone else.

"If you're not going to do these reports, then give them here," Tya told her eldest daughter. Cersei quickly turned her attention back to the work on the desk.

"No, I will do it," She said hastily, though was clearly bored of it. 

The girl seemed to think that she was her mother born again. They both were very ambitious, willing to be brutal in their dealings and had a great sense of pride, but that was where the similarities ended. Jason had said once that where Tya was ice, Cersei was more like fire, struggling to not let her emotions get away from her, always keen to speak first rather than listen and weigh in later. She was intelligent, however less so than she thought she was.

Jaime, on the other hand, was more intelligent than he gave himself credit for. Though Kevan had ensured her eldest son would be a capable lord, he clearly had no love for such work, preferring to train in the yard and learn about matters of war and strategy. In that sense he was more like Rohanne than Cersei, despite the twins looking like the male and female versions of each other. Rohanne was far more practical, and like her brother had little ambition besides living her life how she wanted to. Though thankfully she was not so reckless as Jaime was.

"Can we ride out tomorrow, Father?" The girl asked Jason hopefully. "I've practiced a lot with that new bow - I want to see if it's as good in the Kingswood as the castle,"

"I suppose so," He considered, smiling wryly. "I won't have to deal with the new reforms, after all. Thank Lord Varys for my free time," 

Chapter Text

278AC 

The betrothal of Doran Martell - whose first wife, some foreign-born woman, had died birthing a stillborn daughter two years prior - to the young Catelyn Tully was announced that year. It was a surprising match, even to Tya, whom her old friend Princess Loreza had written to of the betrothal beforehand. Dorne and the Riverlands were far from each other, although importantly did flank the Reach to the north and south. 

Not to mention that whilst Lady Catelyn was a maid of four-and-ten, Prince Doran was a man of thirty. Hoster Tully's ambitions seemed to overpower any desire to see his daughter wed someone her own age, although he had wished to marry her to Brandon Stark, before Lord Rickard agreed to the betrothal with Rohanne. No doubt he would be trying to throw his younger daughter at the Tyrell heir before long, even though the boy was five years old and the other Tully girl was twelve.

It seemed that all the Lords Paramount were, consciously or unconsciously, arranging marriages between them for the first time in generations. Tya did not pay the matter excessive attention, however; she was busy plotting herself.

She had started thinking up her plans long before the death of Steffon Baratheon - long before Duskendale, or even the tourney at Lannisport - although the Lord of Storm's End untimely demise did require her to accelerate them slightly, with a letter of her own to Princess Loreza.

Since the princess' visit to the Red Keep during the early years of Aerys' reign, Tya had kept up a steady correspondence with Loreza ever since, and was always glad of her company whenever the older woman was in King's Landing. The last time she had seen her friend was shortly after Tyrion's birth five years ago. At the time, Tya had not yet returned to her duties as Hand, still being unable to stand for very long, and it was over lunch in the Tower of the Hand that Loreza had proposed a betrothal, between Cersei and her son Oberyn.

She had cordially refused, of course, given her plans for Cersei at the time - which, if she was honest, she had not yet given up on and her eldest daughter remained unbetrothed - and there were no hard feelings, although perhaps that was due to her hinting to Loreza of her possible plans for the future.

Since the Baratheons had been unable to find a bride for Rhaegar, she knew that Aerys was considering other options. He had not discussed the matter with Tya at all, which for once she was grateful for, as she could deny any accusations of plotting. 

Pycelle still told her everything, of course. The most likely candidate was currently Princess Elia of Dorne for her traces of Targaryen blood, although the king had not yet made his mind up. He was reluctant to marry his son to a Dornishwoman out of pure snobbishness, and the fact that Elia was known to have been sicky in her youth. Although she did have the most recent Targaryen ancestor and was as close to a Valyrian bride as he was like to get in Westeros.

That was enough for Tya.

She felt no guilt in writing about the matter to Princess Loreza, taking care to include the king's more unsavoury insults against her friend's daughter, and Dorne as a whole. Tya was under no doubt that her friend would see this letter for what it was - a ploy against Aerys and a chance for Tya's own daughter to be queen - but she did not intend to hide that, for once being extremely candid. 

It was certainly her taking advantage of Loreza's desire for her only daughter to be happy. Though extremely capable, her friend was not all that ambitious when it came to matters outside of Dorne, and Tya doubted the woman would care that Elia would miss out on a chance to be queen, unless that was what the girl herself wanted.

She also mentioned in her letter that Lord Arryn's nephew was currently on a visit to court and was as yet unmarried. The old lord himself was unlikely to have any children himself at this point, making young Elbert the heir to the Vale. He was a handsome and courteous man of four-and-twenty, all who met him agreed, fairly quiet but personable and clearly intelligent. 

Loreza's response was surprisingly positive. Tya had wondered if the other woman would resent such blatant manoeuvring on her part, and though the princess made it clear she would not be leaping to do the Hand's bidding, she would consider the possibility and talk to her daughter herself; they were in fact due to embark on a tour of Westeros, unofficially to assess potential husbands for Elia, and had not intended to travel to the Vale but now they would consider it.

Although she did thank Tya for her warnings about the king, and bade her to be careful.

Months later, Tya smiled when the raven came from the Eyrie announcing the betrothal of Princess Elia Martell to Ser Elbert Arryn, heir to the Vale. 

Aerys' face darkened as he heard the news himself. He accused his Hand of meddling, ranting and raving about how she had supposedly colluded with the 'traitors from the Vale' to steal his son's bride. However, as the king accused her of meddling and plotting against him on a daily basis, whenever anything went wrong in court, no one paid him much mind. 

No one could truly accuse her of anything nefarious, besides. She had never officially been told of any intent for Rhaegar and Elia to marry, and even if she had, she did not control what the Princess of Dorne decided for her daughter, nor the Lord of the Vale for his nephew. 

Never mind that she had helped orchestrate the whole thing in private.

Things seemed too good to be true, however. Perhaps the gods were trying to punish her for her misdeeds - something Tya may have considered, if she were a godly woman - but scarcely two weeks after the raven came about the Martell-Arryn alliance, as the year drew to a close, another raven bore dark words from Casterly Rock. 

Kevan wrote that their brother Tygett had been travelling with his wife Lady Alinor, to visit her home of Deep Den. A snake had spooked his horse and he had fallen, a stone gouging a deep cut on his arm. The stubborn man had brushed it off, bandaging it himself and not even going to the maester four days later when they arrived at the castle. It had festered nastily, and the infection had spread. By the time anyone noticed something amiss, the fever had kicked in. 

Tygett had died two days ago.

Tya had not felt so much for someone's death since her mother died. Her father's death was more of a relief than anything, despite the fact she didn't rejoice in it, but the death of her brother, who she remembered as a child toddling around a nursery, a fierce youth training to exhaustion in the yard, a scowling young man at his wedding... 

"It's a shame," Jason had been sombre as she read him the letter, the news having been delivered by Pycelle late at night, just as they were about to retire for bed. "He wasn't even thirty," 

Then he saw her face and held his arms open wordlessly. She wanted to ignore it, but then gave in, letting him press her head to his shoulder. 

Tya didn't cry, but thought once again how it was somehow a comfort to have one person she could be weak in front of, at least. One person in her life with whom she didn't have to make every single decision herself.

"He resented me as soon as he was old enough to know me," She couldn't help but say. Her brother had not liked being told what to do, and had always taken her control and influence over his life grudgingly.

"Perhaps," Jason did not soften his words. "But he loved you all the same. Any sibling who outshines the rest so thoroughly will always inspire resentment, true, but I know Tyg admired your strength, and loved you dearly despite not liking you some of the time,"

She said nothing to that, but was grateful for his words nonetheless.

279AC

Though she never mentioned the matter in front of Aerys, or anyone else except the children, Tya wore black for a month after her brother's death. She wore black rather often anyway, so it was not drastically different from her usual apparel, but she could tell others noticed. 

At first she was suspicious when the king didn't rub the tragedy in her face, and rather concerned at the sly little smile he often wore around her, asking Pycelle to discover what he was so smug about.

"He's determined to find any other bride for Prince Rhaegar aside from Lady Cersei, my lady," The old man shook his head in disapproval. "He's planning to gloat to you about it in front of the court, when the betrothal is announced," 

Tya's eyes darkened. It was simply pure spite, at this point, to refuse a match between Rhaegar and Cersei.

"Does the king have any idea who will marry his son?"

"Does the king have any idea about anything he does?" Pycelle chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not,"

For this reason, part of her suspected that when Aerys finally announced the betrothal of Prince Rhaegar to Lady Ashara Dayne, he had decided on the matter that morning and the letter to Starfall had only just been sent. 

That did nothing to assuage her fury, however. If anything, it incensed it. Everyone at court was forced to put up with her foul mood for the next month. Jason bore the brunt, though not graciously, often making jibes of his own in response to her own sharp tongue and easily-roused temper. Anyone else, and she'd have reduced them to a quivering wreck with one stare, but her husband biting back did remind her - eventually - that she was acting unreasonably. 

Lady Ashara arrived at court four weeks later, and took almost everyone's breath away. The young woman, aged six-and-ten, was stunningly beautiful with long dark hair, large purple eyes and a face perhaps even more comely than Tya's own daughter Cersei, who was said by many to be the most beautiful girl in Westeros. She had an air of mystery and grace about her, similar to the almost otherworldliness of Rhaegar; in that sense, they made a good match. Ashara was not the most outgoing girl, though spoke courteously and eloquently, her quiet voice somehow making her more engaging as everyone quieted themselves to listen.

Cersei, of course, despised the girl on sight no matter how Tya and Jason tried to impress on her to make a good impression. Admittedly, she was all sweetness and smiles on the outside - the girl could be more than charming, when she wished - but Tya did not miss the poisonous looks she shot the older girl when she thought no one was looking.

The wedding occurred rather quickly, only a month after Ashara's arrival. It was a lavish ceremony planned by Queen Rhaella, who seemed delighted to undertake the task, seeing as Aerys refused to attend the ceremony or even the feast, paranoid of assassination. He still had not left the Red Keep since Duskendale, over a year and a half ago. Tya enjoyed the occasion for his absence, though not much else; it signalled the end of all her ambitions for Cersei.

Rhaegar and Ashara made a handsome couple, all would agree. Both almost ethereal, tall and graceful, though she was dark where he was fair. She didn't seem proud in the way that Cersei was, didn't hold her head high at every minute, but seemed a future queen nonetheless, more quietly confident. 

Tya wished she was bumbling, ugly, awkward, or clumsy enough to trip down the stairs, or choke on her food, or fall from her horse. Unfortunately, Ashara was none of those things.

The new royal couple moved to Dragonstone after the wedding, which of course set people whispering that Rhaegar was planning to take the throne with the help of his wife's homeland of Dorne. In all likelihood, the pair wanted to enjoy the early days of their marriage away from a court where people were burned alive once or twice a fortnight. Aerys' obsession with wildfire was only growing worse and worse.

This seemed to be supported when, scarcely nine months after the wedding, it was announced that Princess Ashara had given birth to twin daughters. The pregnancy had not even been announced prior to the birth - perhaps Rhaegar had learned from his mother's miscarriages - yet by all accounts the girls were healthy. 

The prince had named them Rhaenys and Visenya, after the conqueror's wives. 

"Best hope he has a son next," Jason had snorted. "Rhaenys, Visenya and Aegelle doesn't have quite the same ring to it,"

280AC

The twin princesses were presented to court half a year after their birth. Aerys very rudely refused to touch them, claiming that they smelt Dornish. Rhaella, mortified, had fussed over her first grandchildren like they were her own, with tears in her eyes as she embraced both her son and his wife.

It was to everyone's surprise that during the visit, Lady Ashara announced that she was already with child again; three months pregnant, in fact. People seemed to brush it off as newlyweds being newlyweds, though Tya hadn't missed the concern in Rhaella's eyes at the news. She herself knew well enough the dangers of pregnancies too close together; Tyrion had been born a year after Damon, of course, and his birth had near killed her.

Princess Daena was born just under a year after the twins, in King's Landing. Oddly enough, Rhaegar seemed very disappointed the child not a son. That in itself made sense, but he had only been married two years and already had three heirs; surely more would soon follow? And besides, the prince did not seem the type to push his wife's body to breaking point for the sake of an heir a few years sooner. 

Once the baby princess was old enough to travel, Rhaegar hastened to bring his household back to Dragonstone before the year's end. It was rather obvious why. Aerys' madness was growing by the day, and the Red Keep was practically a battlefield between the king and his Hand. 

Not only that, but pyromancers had become a fixture of the court. Wildfire burnings had replaced hangings and beheadings, and even became standard for petty crimes that would ordinarily only warrant losing a hand or a public flogging. 

Tya had strongly protested when Rosshart, the head pyromancer who pretentiously called himself 'Wisdom Rosshart', was named to the small council. This had ended in yet another public row between the king and the Hand; Aerys ranting and raving as always, whilst Lady Lannister was cold, quiet and immovable. 

It was no use arguing with him over anything, let alone wildfire. Aerys seemed to enjoy the burnings far too much; he would always leave and head straight for Rhaella's chambers to brutally claim his marriage rights.

Having seen Rhaella looking like she had been savaged by a wild animal, Tya would have happily ordered Lannister guards to stand outside her friend's chambers, but the queen insisted that it would make things worse. 

"You're treading a very fine line as it is," She had said in a hushed tone, as the maid Tya brought to the queen's chambers cleaned the woman's wounds. "Aerys is scared of you, that's why he hasn't harmed you yet. The small part of sanity left to him knows he needs you to run his kingdom, besides. But sometimes I don't even think he realises it's me he's hurting. He called me Tya, last night, with his hands around my throat. He's done that before,"

Tya sent the maid away before replying, starting to dab at Rhaella's wounds herself.

"If he lays a hand on me, he will pay for it," She replied coldly, wringing out the bloody rag in the now soiled basin. "He would pay for hurting you, if you'd let me,"

"Kingslaying is a sin," The queen shook her head, clearly gathering her meaning. "Let alone kinslaying. Otherwise I would have stuck a knife in his gut years ago," 

Tya was silent for a moment, locking eyes with her friend.

"And what if he wasn't killed?"

Chapter Text

281AC

"What do you mean 'the king will be in attendance," Tya fixed the bearer of such unfortunate news - her own husband - with an icy glower. 

Jason did not flinch, used to her glares as he was - not that he ever had, even when they were children - but no doubt felt about as pleased as she looked.

"Aerys decided this morning that a gathering of most every lord in the kingdoms, high and low, was a prime chance for his treacherous son and Hand to plot against him," He had the nerve to smile faintly. "Not an unreasonable concern, in all fairness,"

True, that was exactly what Tya had been planning on doing. Well, not so much plot, more celebrate the many betrothals between great houses, and feel out which of the lords would be more open to replacing the current king with someone less insane. Though at the rate Rhaegar's wife was pushing out children - Ashara was pregnant once again, for the third time in two years - she wasn't so sure the heir would turn out much better than his father.

Still, was that the case then removing Aerys would set a new precedent. More power to the lords, less to the monarch. As long as she was Hand of the King, that could work either in her favour or against it, but at this moment it was in everyone's interests that the Mad King be removed from the throne. 

The image Rhaella had planted in her mind of Aerys throttling his wife and calling her Tya's name was not a pleasant one. How long before he grew too mad to remember that her brother was the most powerful lord in Westeros? Not that she would let him survive such an encounter - she still carried a dagger on her at all times - but being known as the Hand who killed their king would not improve her chances of remaining Hand to Rhaegar.  

That was part of the agreement she, the queen and the crown prince had come to, in a series of meetings held by candlelight and kept utmost secret. Tya would support Rhaegar's usurpation of his father - for the prince would not be crowned until Aerys died, merely assume all duties of a king early whilst his father still kept the title - if he kept her on as Hand.

The other part of the agreement was that if Ashara died - which looked increasingly likely, given she had struggled with her last pregnancy and was with child again far too soon - Rhaegar would take Cersei as his bride. The prince had glowered slightly at that, and Rhaella had frowned reproachfully, but Tya would not back down.

In return for the reluctant agreement to her conditions, she had made herself invaluable to the whole process through the arrangement of a series of marriage alliances. Her daughter Rohanne was already betrothed to Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell. Lyanna Stark was promised to Robert Baratheon. The Martell-Arryn match had already taken place, and the Martell-Tully wedding was swiftly approaching. With a persuasive letter to both Hoster Tully and Olenna Tyrell, Tya had prompted talks to betroth the younger Tully daughter to the young Tyrell heir, Willas (who was only ten, so that would have to wait a while).

Not wanting such treason in writing before they were ready to enact it, they would have to wait to speak to the lords in person at Harrenhal about the more delicate matter of Rhaegar taking over from Aerys.

Which would be considerably more challenging now the man himself had decided to attend.

Why now, of all times? The king hadn't left the Red Keep in years, not since Duskendale. He looked truly awful as well; too paranoid to let a blade near him, Aerys' nails and hair had grown to unacceptable lengths, and he smelled atrocious due to not trusting anyone not to drown him if he bathed. He was slightly younger than Tya, yet looked at least two decades older. There was only so much that fine silks and brocade could hide.

*

All of Tya's family was in attendance at Harrenhal; she had thought about only attending with Jason, but the absence of any Lannister would no doubt provoke suspicion. And her children's protests at not going would be far too vocal, considering she had no good reason why not.

"I've never seen so many people," Damon's eyes were wide as the Lannisters and their guards rode into the tourney grounds, a day or so ahead of the king's party. The boy was now nine, and had started training in the yard himself years ago; whilst not the natural talent his elder brother was, he was decent enough with both sword and lance, though had no great love for it. Damon was soft at heart, though he made a good enough show of being otherwise that Tya couldn't complain. 

"Neither have I, outside a battlefield," Jason remarked. 

The land surrounding Harrenhal was a sea of multicoloured tents, banners and armour, milling with people from high lords to hedge knights to local peasants selling their wares.

"Look at the castle, Father!" Tyrion, aged eight, pointed excitedly. He rode in front of Jason, who helped to steady him as his legs were not long enough for a horse of his own; there was talk of having a special saddle crafted with straps for his short legs, which would give a much better image. "That must be the Kingspyre tower, where Balerion and Aegon the Conqueror burned Harren the Black. Then the Widow's Tower, the Wailing Tower, the Tower of Ghosts, the Tower of Dread..." 

He babbled on with enthusiasm, encouraged by his father's interested comments. Tyrion knew better than to try to catch Tya's attention so. She was not cruel to her youngest son, nor even especially cold, but they all knew she looked at him different to the others. Sometimes she would feel a flash of guilt over that fact, but could not bring herself to change, remembering the pain and fear of his birth, the humiliation of bearing a dwarf. The boy was clever, though, she'd admit that, well read and diligent. Perhaps when he was older...

"Oh Tyrion, do be quiet," Cersei tossed her hair impatiently. "I put up with you reciting facts about Harrenhal for half the way here, no need to start again," 

"I thought you might need help remembering," The boy shot back, unperturbed. "Seeing as you spend more time staring in a mirror than in lessons," 

"You little wretch!" The girl glared, though there was no real bite to it. Despite her harsh words, the siblings did care for each other, even though they often got on the other's nerves. Cersei was always the first to deliver a cutting comment whenever anyone insulted her youngest brother, and had made many other children cry as a result.

Tyrion stuck out his tongue in response, making Rohanne and Damon (Jason too) laugh. Cersei gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Mother, must we put up with these insolent brats this whole time?"

"Do not speak of your siblings in such a crude manner," Tya said sharply, pausing. "Or I will make them your responsibility during our stay here - " She was cut off with laughter from all but her eldest daughter, who made an outraged noise. Tya still did not like laughter, though it was acceptable from her family so long as it was not directed at her; her own lips did twitch at Cersei's expression.

"Is that - " Rohanne's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I think that's Jaime," Scarcely a moment later she was gone, kicking her horse into a canter too reckless for a tourney ground.

"Stupid girl," Tya shook her head, the rest of them following at a more sedate pace. 

Sure enough, they were greeted by Jaime, Kevan, Gerion and several other Lannister cousins that had come from Casterly Rock. Rohanne had already dismounted and flung her arms around her eldest brother, who lifted her off the ground and spun her around. Damon quickly followed, then Jason lifted Tyrion down. Cersei, surprisingly, remained on horseback. Whilst Jaime was all of his sibling's favourite, the twins had always been the closest by far. Yet now she would barely even look at him, nor he look at her.

It remained that way at the feast. Cersei made a point of charming and dancing with every handsome man in the room, whilst Jaime remained laughing with his siblings, taking Rohanne, Damon and Tyrion all for a dance around the hall. 

Tya had little time to pay attention to her children, however, not with Aerys looming over the hall from the high table. His beady eyes were darting everywhere, lingering on everyone, looking for any sign of suspicion, likely seeing betrayal where none existed and missing it where it did.

Now was not the time for scheming, not under the kings watchful eye. It was after the feast that she and Jason had a meeting with Rickard Stark, and Prince Rhaegar was to have one of his own with Prince Doran of Dorne; Princess Loreza, to Tya's regret, had been unable to travel such a distance due to ill health. She had written to her old friend prior to leaving King's Landing, however, so the woman's heir should already be briefed on the upcoming events.

"Good evening, my lord," She greeted as a servant showed Lord Rickard into her chambers. She sat behind the desk, Jason the other side of it, next to the empty chair that Stark carefully took.

"Is there a reason for you inviting me here at such a late hour, Lady Hand?" His craggy eyebrow rose impatiently. "Any discussions of the betrothal could wait til morning, surely,"

Ah yes, she remembered that Northern bluntness well.

"The king has left the Red Keep for the first time since he was held hostage at Duskendale," It was Jason who spoke, a sardonic note in his voice. "Lord Stark, what did you think of him?" He smiled slightly at Stark's baffled hesitance. "Come now, be honest. I remarked to my wife earlier that he looked like an overgrown vulture,"

Lord Rickard huffed a laugh at that.

"Very well," He said, clearly indulging them. "The king looks like a mountain clansman after a harsh winter. Can the Targaryen coffers not afford a razor and bathtub?" 

"The king will not let any kind of blade near him, for fear that someone may slit his throat," Jason continued to smile, voice still dry. "Nor will he bathe, for fear of being drowned. That smell that lingers around him... that's the stench of burning human flesh. He favours wildfire as a method of execution now, for murderers and petty misdemeanours both. And, if I dare say so, delights in it far too much. Every time there is a burning, he goes to Queen Rhaella's chambers, and she comes out looking like a wild animal has savaged her. He sees conspiracies and dark plots everywhere, and his paranoia is always stoked by a scraping Essosi eunuch named Varys, who his Grace has appointed to the small council. Aerys often accuses his council, his Hand and his own son, Prince Rhaegar, of betrayal. He accuses great lords too, even if they are not present in court, with no proof other than his own imagination. He was mere seconds from ordering Lord Stokeworth imprisoned not three weeks ago, for no compelling reason. Thankfully the small council was able to talk him out of it, but this is far from an uncommon occurrence and one of these days he will be too far gone to get through to,"

Lord Stark was silent for a long moment.

"I'd heard they call him the Mad King," He said, eyes narrowed. "I had not realised how true that was. What are you really saying, Lannister?"

"Prince Rhaegar is rightly concerned for his father's health," Jason continued. "And for the realm. He worries that the strain of his kingly duties is only driving his Grace further from sanity, and wonders if perhaps taking over some of his father's responsibilities would ease that burden. On both Aerys and the Seven Kingdoms,"

"All of his duties," Tya cut in. "What we are saying, my lord, is would you stand with the prince if he persuaded his father to stand down. Aerys would still be king in name, but name only. Rhaegar would sit the Iron Throne. He would rule the realm," 

"With you as his Hand?" Stark raised a wry eyebrow.

"With me as his Hand, as is our agreement," She confirmed coldly. "Bear in mind, Lord Stark, that Prince Rhaegar is a strong-minded man in his twenties, not a puppet boy-king,"

"Even if he were, I would not object, for our families are to be joined in marriage," Stark replied. "Though I do wonder why is Rhaegar not here to speak to me himself?"

The Lord of Winterfell was proud, she knew. He would take being sent to talk to a lady over a prince as an insult, even if that lady was her.

"If the king discovered that I had met with you in secret, it would be highly unpleasant for all of us. He would be beyond reason," She said. "And if he discovered that the prince was here as well, he would call for our heads,"

Lord Rickard's shrewd eyes narrowed.

"You've trapped me, then," He said, not aggressively but hardly pleased. "Whether I agree to support Rhaegar or not, if Aerys finds out about this meeting then I will be branded a traitor despite having nothing to do with it,"

"In the end, Lord Stark," Jason said, unbothered. "It's a easy choice between a sane, able man ruling the Seven Kingdoms, or Aerys and his growing madness. There is very little risk on your part. Dorne stands with us already. With Dorne, the Arryns and Tullys will follow once we have spoken to them, bound by betrothals as they are. We bring the Westerlands ourselves. And, if you agree to support Prince Rhaegar, Lord Baratheon will no doubt join you - he is betrothed to your Lyanna, is he not? And your son Eddard is his close friend. Not to mention, Prince Rhaegar is far more popular in the Crownlands and King's Landing than his father, who rules through fear,"

"You talk a lot," Stark said gruffly. "Makes up for your wife, I suppose. Normally it's the other way around," At Tya's raised eyebrow, he sighed. "Very well. I have no objection to Rhaegar, and it is plain to see Aerys is no fit ruler. I'd warn you to not earn me a headsman's axe, but as that would mean your own life too, Lady Lannister, I trust such words are unnecessary. I bid you both goodnight,"

With that, Lord Rickard got to his feet and left them.

"I do enjoy tender conversations between future family," Jason remarked wryly after the door had closed. "He was more shrewd than I was expecting, for a Stark. I'll admit, when you edged as close to blackmail as you did, I thought he'd throw the request in our faces and walk out. Gods, he's a prickly bastard - you'd have made a good match for each other,"

She let out a breath of laughter.

"After my father betrothed me to the Frey boy, Mother took me aside and asked who I wished to marry. I said a high lord, and she mentioned Rickard Stark. A suggestion I shot down by proclaiming I did not want to waste away in the North,"

"Well the man doesn't know what a lucky escape he made," He grinned and she shot him a look. "Perhaps the next time you need to threaten him, say that you'll bump me off and arrange a marriage between the two of you,"

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you - I might have to do just that, if Rhaegar ever decides to find a new Hand. Either Stark, or Jon Arryn. For that matter, Hoster Tully is also a widower,"

"Let it not be said you don't have options," Her husband laughed. "The high lords of Westeros are quaking in their boots - they're all scared of you a little, no matter how they hide it,"

"Everyone's scared of me a little," She smiled faintly. "Except you, an irreverent nuisance since you could walk. Even Stark thought you talk too much,"

"He also implied that you're too manly for a woman," Jason mused. "How do you think things would have gone, had you been Tychus and I been Janna?"

"I'd be Lord Lannister, for one, as well as Hand," It was an intriguing (tempting) thought. "I'd have never married a Frey," Though Genna would have done, and would likely still be married, a sobering thought. "People would judge me for being ruthless far less. And Aerys wouldn't have lusted after me for decades, so perhaps he would not despise me so?"

"Or he'd lust after me instead," Her husband shuddered. 

"Then I'd have stuck a knife in him long before this point,"

"Or I wouldn't live at court. I'd be Lady of Casterly Rock, after all, and the children would have had to grow up there,"

"You'd get bored of that," She waved the idea away. "You would get yourself involved in politics somehow,"

"And raise five children at the same time? Be honest, Tya, you don't do much raising now, let alone if you were a man and weren't expected to," It was a fair assessment. "Maybe Cersei would be less... spirited if she didn't have her mother as an example of what a woman can do,"

"I doubt it," She grimaced, and he chuckled.

There was a comfortable silence.

"We still would have married though, surely?" He asked, still teasing. "I dread to think what you'd have become without me. Particularly as a lord,"

"Of course," The words came easily, and she knew them to be true.

*

Every night of the tourney after that, they held similar meetings with the remaining high lords. Lord Arryn listened to them gravely, asking several intelligent questions, then agreed under the condition that Aerys would not be harmed, only contained. Lord Tully took the opportunity to try and bargain (unsuccessfully, though he ended up agreeing nonetheless) whilst Olenna Tyrell, who had come with her son, Mace, somehow ended up squeezing a betrothal for her as-yet-non-existent granddaughter and Prince Viserys. Rhaegar had been present for that conversation rather than Tya, and in her opinion he had folded too easily, but she supposed the Tyrells were the staunchest allies of the Targaryens and it would pay to have them on their side.

Robert Baratheon was by far the easiest to convince. Lord Arryn had evidently spoken to him of the matter already, for he lazily waved aside Jason's spiel and agreed to support Rhaegar there and then. Tya got the impression the man did not particularly care who sat the throne. Jason had rather aptly remarked after Baratheon had gone that the young lord was likely thinking about which busty serving wench he would take to bed that night, rather than matters of state.

The penultimate day of the tourney brought what at first seemed good news; back in King's Landing, Princess Ashara had given birth to a healthy daughter, Valaena. Rhaegar once more seemed irked by the lack of a son, and not nearly as concerned as he should have been that his wife was now gravely ill from the birth. 

Ser Arthur Dayne had rather coldly asked permission to return to the city to see his sister that morning. He had long been the prince's closest friend, yet their relationship seemed to have soured slightly over Rhaegar's treatment of his wife.

With the Sword of the Morning gone, Jaime trounced all the competition in the joust, as he had done every day, earning himself a place in the final against Prince Rhaegar himself. He had intended to enter the melee as well, which he would surely win, but Tya cautioned against it. Aerys had spoken of his plans to choose the next Kingsguard from the winner of the melee, and she wouldn't put it past him to spite her and name her son. 

The final day dawned bright and cool, the promise of spring in the air as it had been this whole event. Tya would admit that her heart was in her mouth (though she never showed a sign of it) as her son and Rhaegar broke ten lances against each other, only for Rhaegar to take a narrow victory. Jaime stood quickly, nothing seeming too hurt save his pride.

Instead of handing his son the garland of winter roses with which he would crown the Queen of Love and Beauty, however, Aerys simply stood and surveyed the crowd. There was a look in his eye that had Tya rather concerned.

"It has been brought to my attention," He started, voice high and cold, eyes alive with spite. "Through my loyal spies, that there are filthy traitors in our midst, trying to seize my throne and stab me in the back. They have plotted my downfall for years - and now I finally have proof. None other than a letter written my own Hand, incriminating them both in unforgivable crimes against the throne. Guards, arrest Lady Tya Lannister and her husband Ser Jason for high treason!"

Chaos erupted before he had even finished speaking. The commons were in uproar, eager for excitement and not caring which lord or lady ended up without a head, so long as they got to see some blood. Tya got to her feet in the stands sharply, pushing all of her children towards their household guards, who were highly trained had their swords out and ready. Jaime had jumped over the barrier to the stands and was sprinting towards them, his sword drawn as he shoved others unceremoniously out of the way. Kevan had readied his own Lannister men, and met her eyes with a raised eyebrow. I hope you know what you're doing, his look seemed to say.

Tya nodded, once, then locked eyes with Rhaegar, still sat on his horse in the tilts. Now or never.

"Stop there," The prince ordered the advancing Targaryen guards, who faltered, confused. He leant down and said something to the leader, too quiet for anyone to make out. The man nodded, and Rhaegar seemed satisfied. Then the prince spoke louder, addressing the stands. "My father, his Grace the king, is troubled by an ailment of the mind, and I believe him unfit to complete his kingly duties. His orders are not to be followed from this moment forth. Lady Tya is no traitor,"

Aerys looked ready to explode in fury.

"How dare you?" He hissed. "You vile, ungrateful traitor. I should have known you were in bed with the Lannister bitch. Guards, seize my disloyal son and my treacherous Hand and have them both thrown in the deepest dungeon in this castle to rot,"

"My lords," Rhaegar spoke over him. "With your blessing, I would allow my father to keep the title of king, but step aside so that I, as crown prince, can respectfully ease his burden and take on the responsibilities of ruling,"

"Aye," Lord Baratheon was the first to bellow. Others quickly followed. The small houses and the great, Arryn, Tully, Martell, eventually Tyrell, and, of course, Lannister. 

Aerys was still shrieking at his guards to seize the traitors. Burn them all, he kept shouting over and over, fevered and hysterical, only proving Rhaegar's point. A dull roar of conversation and shock at the turn of events was rising throughout the commons and the highborn seats alike.

Rhaegar, answering the multitude of questions from all those who approached him, and Aerys might be the centre of attention, but Tya felt many pairs of eyes on her.

She swept through the stands, dark red dress swishing around her feet as a dozen guards kept pace behind her. She wasn't making her way down to stand with Rhaegar, no, but instead to the royal box, only occupied by Aerys.

The king was still shrieking and cursing at the Kingsguard, who were an immovable obstacle in his way. Tya had left Rhaegar to handle Ser Gerold Hightower and his men beforehand, knowing that if she had done so herself, the White Bull would likely consider it treason. Even now, it clearly pained him to disobey his king's orders. Yet you would have to be mad yourself to deny that Aerys, throwing the tantrum he was in public, spitting threats of wildfire at anyone and anything that moved, was completely insane.

When the king caught sight of her, he froze, eyes bulging with rage and loathing, spittle frothing at his lips.

"Your Grace," Before he could speak, Tya dropped into the deepest, most perfect curtsey she had performed in her life, even lowering her eyes, which she had done for no one save King Aegon. Though when she glanced up, she was sure to let him see the faint smile playing at her lips. 

For a moment, a brief flash of sanity seemed to pass through the king. 

"My Lady Hand," His tone was startlingly normal, if rather hoarse, breathless from his previous ranting.

"It was an honour to serve, your Grace," She said. "As it will be an honour to serve your son, Prince Rhaegar," 

The flash of sanity was gone just as soon as it appeared, as Aerys' eyes clouded over with madness once more.

"I raised you up from nothing. Nothing!" He hissed lowly at her. "Were it not for me, you would be nothing more than the wife of a landless knight sniffing round court and Casterly Rock for favours. No doubt you'd have ended up whoring yourself out to me for some small shred of influence! I made you, a mere woman, Hand of the King, against the judgement of every lord in Westeros. And you repay me with treachery and betrayal," You brought that on yourself.

There was a moment of silence as she let that hang in the air.

"His Grace is clearly not House Lannister prays for his Grace's return to health," Tya said evenly, as unruffled as if he had not spoken. "By your leave, Aerys," 

She left before his leave had been given. They would talk later, away from prying eyes and ears. Of that she had no doubt. Let them say she had been gracious in the king's downfall. That she had wished him well, despite the torrent of insults directed her way. 

As she rejoined her family, Jason's face too was a suitable mask of dutiful acceptance, though mirth sparkled in his eyes and he squeezed her arm when she took his own, clearly holding back a smirk. So was she. There would be plenty of time to celebrate in private.

Chapter Text

282AC

For Tya in the months after the tumultuous tourney at Harrenhal - the events of which would no doubt go doubt in history, for better or worse - the situation in King's Landing was better than it had been in years.

Rhaegar, for now, was an infinitely better king than Aerys for the simple fact that he was an excellent listener. The Prince Regent, as he was now called, took his duties very seriously. He attended every Small Council meeting and sat the Iron Throne for every open audience, listening to his advisors and his people alike with the same quiet attention and respect, taking into account everything they had to say and doing his best to act fairly upon it.

He also listened to his Hand. Not saying that he was a puppet, far from it, but Rhaegar understood that Tya was far more experienced in matters of state and knew the workings of the kingdoms inside out. So long as she put together a convincing enough case, he tended to take her advice on most matters, and was clearly making an effort to learn from her. 

As a result, Tya had managed to enact a great deal of the beneficial reforms she had wished to pass when Aerys was king but had been blocked from doing so out of the king's spite, despite the fact that her ideas would benefit House Targaryen greatly (often as well as herself). Often it depended on the day. Some days he did not care and Tya could do her job in relative peace, whilst others he went out of his way to sabotage whatever she was doing.

She also took great pleasure in undoing many of the foolish laws the king had passed. In fact, Rhaegar's first few days as Regent had been spent carefully reading through the stack of papers Tya had dumped on his desk. She'd had such documents prepared for a long time, in the event of Aerys' death, or sudden return to sanity. It was gratifying watching the prince's eyebrows raising in incredulity at the numerous good ideas his father had turned down, and the ridiculous ones of his own that he had enacted.

"I don't know how you stood him for so long," Rhaegar shook his head, holding up one of the pieces of parchment. "This trade deal with Braavos would greatly benefit King's Landing, and the whole of the Crownlands, possibly Gulltown and the Vale too, if passed. Yet he tore it up because..?"

"I had the nerve to deal with the descendants of traitors to Valyria," Never mind that the slaves (slaves, not traitors) that founded Braavos had fled their oppressive dragon-wielding masters centuries ago, before the Targaryens even made it to Westeros. Had Steffon Baratheon come to him with that deal, Aerys would have made him Hand. 

Rhaegar was silent, that ever-present melancholy expression - Jason called it brooding, in private - on his face. 

"Though it pained me - and still does - to usurp my own father, it was certainly the right thing to do,"

"Yes, your Grace. It was,"

And no one thought so more than Tya. With the king no longer enjoying publicly insulting her at every turn, all those courtiers who had joined him in sneering at her and mocking her had shrunk back into the shadows, or were going out of their way to gain the Hand's favour now she herself was in favour with the Prince Regent. 

There were still those men present who disliked her in power for no other reason than being a woman, though they had been lurking around as long as she had been Hand and would likely never lose that disgust in their eyes at taking orders from her. 

Tya indulged none of it. She had never been one for simpering sycophants, especially those who had once scorned her, and met their pathetic flattery with cold stares and sharply worded remarks. The ones who avoided her eyes could rot for all she cared, though there was a certain satisfaction in inspiring such a reaction. As for the men who resented her for being a woman - though even she would admit there were a thousand other things they would be more justified in hating her for - most did not dare to voice their complaints. Not after twenty years of a finger being removed from anyone who dared suggest she lay with the king.

Life would have been almost... good, save for three unfortunate events. 

The first was the death of Princess Loreza of Dorne, a short time after the tourney. The loss of one of her oldest (and only) true friends had hit Tya hard, though she would not show it. She had sent a letter to Prince Doran, Loreza's heir, to offer her condolences and would no doubt continue to enjoy an alliance with Dorne built on friendship, however it would not be the same. She would miss Loreza's letters, her intelligent, her dry observations and her often outrageous suggestions that had Tya smiling despite herself. 

Doran's reply had been sent via a messenger rather than a raven, the reason being the gift that came with the letter. In death, Loreza had bequeathed her one of her necklaces, a matching pair of earrings and set of five hair pins; all done in gold, but instead of the rubies Tya normally favoured, they were set with bright orange sapphire. Not so obviously Martell - her friend knew she would never wear any sigil other than the Lannister lion - but she remembered Loreza wearing that set often enough that it made her frown out of grief.

My daughter called this set gaudy, once. The note, written in her friend's hand, accompanied the velvet-lined box. Though said I somehow pulled it off. I now gift these to you, for who else could get away with wearing such an obscene amount of gold other than Lady Lannister? I pray you can get over your pride and wear orange jewellery at least once. Perhaps get a dress made to match - having seen you in that gold gown, you should really wear brighter fabrics more often. I'm sure you've built up enough of your intimidating Lady Hand reputation over the years that you can survive one feast out of red, black, grey, dark green or dark blue. The events at Harrenhal are enough to write your name in history alone, let alone everything else. I wish I had been there. I won't say goodbye, as we are likely going to the same place, so I will see you there. Hopefully not for forty more years, so I shall be younger and more beautiful for once. Yours, Loreza of Dorne.

She did not cry at that, though could have done had she let herself.

Instead, Tya threw herself into her duties as Hand. The second major problem (for her, at least) was that of the princess. Ashara had been bed-bound since the difficult and bloody birth of Princess Valaena; she was feeble and weak, but still clung onto life. Which was unfortunate, seeing as Rhaegar had agreed to wed Cersei if his wife died. 

Of course, Tya would not let him push her daughter for a son the same way he had made Ashara bear three pregnancies and four children in an alarmingly short space of time, which had undoubtedly led to her current condition. After her own experience with Damon and Tyrion's births being so close together - which had had the worst possible outcome save the deaths of mother and child - she would not allow Cersei to go through the same thing.

Yet Rhaegar's one, single kernel of possible madness was not even a relevant concern at the moment, seeing as he firmly refused to set his barren, sickly wife aside, even when Tya had (not so delicately) broached the subject. That had earned him the grudging gratitude of Ser Arthur Dayne, though the Kingsguard knight clearly resented the way his former friend had caused his sister's affliction through too many pregnancies in too little time.

Ashara did not look fit to die soon, either, though it had taken months for her to improve just enough to sit up in bed. The famous beauty was certainly diminished. Tya had been to see her only once; Ashara's cheeks were gaunt and hollow, her hair dull and limp, her eyes shrouded in black circles, her skin an unpleasant shade of grey and her lips cracked and dry. 

She had wasted away, a shell of her former self, and would surely never bear another child, which brought even more problems. Four daughters did not make a strong legacy for House Targaryen, and would no doubt cause issues in the future, seeing as Prince Viserys was a strong and spirited boy of six, the ideal candidate for those who wished for a king. Beyond her own selfish reasons for wanting her daughter as queen, Tya had no desire to see another Dance of Dragons play out, this time between uncle and niece.

Yet there were to be more Targaryen children on the way nonetheless. She had been greatly surprised when Rhaella revealed to her that she was pregnant.

"No doubt it's because Aerys has been kept away this time," Her friend remarked somewhat bitterly, but seemed more relieved than anything else, and delighted with the prospect of another child. Since her husband had been confined to his own luxury chambers, the colour had returned to the queen's face as the bruises and cuts had faded, and she now had a healthy glow of pregnancy about her.

The third problem was that she still did not know the identity of the nasty traitor who had leaked information about Rhaegar's possible regency to Aerys.

She had been seeking the traitor since her return to court. Her first suspicion was Varys and his little birds, though wondered what the eunuch had to gain from that. He had not been dismissed from the Small Council for to his actions inciting Aerys' paranoia, despite the fact that no one on the Small Council liked him. Rhaegar had insisted, claiming he would rather have him where they could keep an eye on him, which was a fair enough point, and the Spider was invaluable when he actually cooperated. 

His influence had diminished since Rhaegar became regent, and he could no longer hiss poison into the king's ear. Varys had been much better off under Aerys' rule. That could potentially be motivation for revealing their plot, but if had enough spies to confirm Tya's treasonous plans, he had enough spies to realise that they would be successful and that backing her into a corner would only force her to act sooner and more violently. Why would he hasten the downfall of Aerys, his only ally here?

She doubted it was the eunuch, though still disliked him just as much. He appeared nervous and jittery around her, though how much of that was an act, Tya did not know. 

The next obvious culprits were the other lords she had spoken to, perhaps the Tyrells, slippery as they were, hoping to earn favour. Not Dorne, for Aerys' downfall would see a Dornishwoman as queen. Certainly not the West or the North. Lord Arryn was too honourable; he'd have told them if he disagreed with their plans. Tully... perhaps, though she doubted it as he would surely gain nothing and wouldn't risk acting alone. 

Yes, the Tyrells were the most likely option - unless Baratheon had opened his big mouth to the wrong person - though she could not prove it, and had no means to act on the information even if she did. Not unless she wanted to tear the kingdoms apart over a matter that - while infuriating - had turned out fine in the end.

In all honesty, it could have been anyone. Any of the lords could have placed their trust in the wrong person, or been overheard by an unaffiliated spy. The real culprit could be any random servant. The whole mess infuriated Tya. She had questioned all her own servants and guards thoroughly, which had yielded nothing. Though the coup had been successful, what if it hadn't been? That traitor would have been her doom and her head would likely still be decorating the walls of the Red Keep. 

Or her ashes would have yet to be swept from the shadow of the Iron Throne.

The stench of wildfire burnings had yet to leave the throne room, but the rest of the castle seemed to be gifted a breath of fresh air (or as fresh as the putrid air in King's Landing ever got). No more burnings, no more fear of the king's paranoia, and the only sign anyone heard of of Aerys was the occasional tantrum from behind his closed chamber doors, guarded by two of the Kingsguard at all times. 

She had paused to listen to such an episode, once, whilst making her way to Rhaegar's solar - the prince's solar still, not the king's - and had smiled faintly at the furious shrieking before moving on.

Knowing that the Tyrells were among the most fickle, and most powerful, of their allies, Tya had agreed to send her son Damon there to foster as a cupbearer to Lord Mace, as she herself had served King Aegon, years ago. Damon was almost ten, and would become a squire in the next couple of years, so it would benefit him to live away from home. Whilst he was a Lannister, he was not of the main branch and (unlike Jaime) stood to inherit no lands or titles, so connections with other great houses would serve him well. The Tyrell heir, Willas, was only a year Damon's elder and Tya hoped that a friendship would bloom there.

This left Tya with her daughters and Tyrion. 

Cersei still sought her tutelage in all matters of state and politics. The girl had seemed to sober slightly after the tourney. Perhaps it had something to do with the evident row she had had with Jaime over gods know what. Tya had asked Jason what he thought was the cause of the rift between the once-close twins; her husband's face had darkened slightly, which was suspicious, though he refused to say anything on the matter other than the two had fought and the matter was now settled. She had pushed him to reveal more, but he was immune to all her tactics and did not say a word. Cersei did not reveal anything more either, though her eyes narrowed at the mention of her eldest brother.

Tya did not forget the matter, though was willing to put it out of her mind temporarily given the positive change that had come over her daughter. Cersei was no less wilful, but seemed a lot more determined to be diligent, rather than give up or argue when she found something she disliked. She also made an effort to befriend many of the other young ladies of the court, laying on the charm rather than utilising her cutting tongue for a change. When she tried, she was the type of girl who other young ladies longed to be friends with; confident, stunningly beautiful, slightly haughty and witty.

Rohanne was the opposite. When she wasn't out riding or hunting, she was practicing shooting her bow in the yard, or humouring Tyrion by letting him read with her. She didn't have many friends in the other young ladies at court, aside from the daughters of a few minor knights and lords, but rather oddly seemed on good terms with many of the young men, with her blunt manner and wicked sense of humour. Nothing concerning yet, and she was never unchaperoned, though Tya would likely have to put a stop to that soon given she was to be married in just over three years.

Tyrion evidently missed Damon greatly and spent much of his days reading in the library. He had no friends save for his brothers and sisters; though his whole family was willing to sharply reprimand anyone who dared say a word mocking his height, it happened nonetheless, Tya knew. The boy was rather good at sticking up for himself, though Jason often worried over how it clearly affected him underneath the sarcastic retorts.

She was surprised one evening when her youngest son knocked on the door to her solar.

"Enter," She said, sharp as ever, then realised it was her nine-year-old son hovering rather unsurely near the door. "What is it, Tyrion?"

"May I speak with you, Mother?" He asked, clearly making an effort to meet her eyes as she had instructed him to do with people, rather than looking down. If he could hold her stare, he could hold anyone's.

Part of her wished to say she was busy and send him away.

"Very well," Tya said instead after a pause. "Sit, and speak quickly. I am very busy,"

He clambered into the large chair in front of her desk.

"I would like to learn politics," The dwarf said. "Would you teach me, as you teach Cersei?" Tyrion clearly saw the look on her face. "I won't ever be a warrior like Jaime," He said in a rush. "And I won't make a good marriage. I've read a lot on the subject but books don't tell you everything. Please, Mother, I would like to learn,"

"Why would you not go to your father about such matters?" She asked. "He is more than experienced in the subject, having been Master of Laws almost as long as I have been Hand,"

"Father is... different," Tyrion said carefully, clearly away he was balancing on a fine line. "He is charming and friendly and handsome. Everyone likes him. Most people don't like me," He hesitated. "Or you. But you're good at what you do, and they're scared of you, so it does not matter,"

Something in Tya bristled at that; the comparison to her youngest son, rather than the fact that not many people liked her, which had been true her whole life. But she had to admit, the boy had a point. Jason's brand of politics - being everyone's friend, the silk glove to her iron gauntlet - would not work for a misshapen little creature like Tyrion. And if a lady can be feared and respected in a society made for men, then surely so could a dwarf? It would only benefit them for the boy to not be useless.

"Very well," She said slowly, after a long silence. "I will teach you. But not on some childish whim - you must take this seriously, and not waste my time,"

His face lit up in surprise and delight, which she could not say did not please her a little.

"Thank you, Mother!" The boy exclaimed.

*

When the news came to her that Princess Ashara had finally succumbed to the pull of death, Tya had to hide her smile. 

The woman had certainly not been healthy and hale by the end, but she was ever so slowly improving rather than getting worse. Tya's mood had darkened when Rhaegar gladly informed her that his wife could now take a few steps unassisted around her bedchamber, though there was little she could do about it other than act like it pleased her. 

She was glad for that now, however. Those few steps around her bedchamber had been enough for Ashara to jump out of her own window, impaling herself on the spikes of Maegor's Holdfast.

The princess' mind had not been improving as much as her body, as it turned out, and the death of little Princess Rhaenys from a seasonal fever had been the final straw. 

"I'm glad you're so poor at expressing emotion," Jason muttered to her at the funeral. "Else I fear you might be beaming,"

He wasn't wrong. Poor taste though it might be, this was exactly what Tya wanted, for now - as agreed - Cersei would surely marry the prince after the standard mourning period. Give it half a year, perhaps.

It seemed too perfect. As it turned out, it was.

She was so angry she could barely speak when Rhaegar informed the Small Council that he would be writing to Lord Stark, asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. In a move truly worthy of his father, the prince was planning to insult half the great houses in Westeros with that one letter alone. 

The Baratheons would be enraged, for their future king attempting to steal Lord Robert's betrothed. Dorne would be angry as well, for Ashara Dayne was not even two weeks in the grave. Elia Arryn was the future Lady of the Eyrie, and Ashara's closest friend; the disrespect would not pass her nor her husband by. And as for the Starks... Lord Rickard was an ambitious man. He would offend the Baratheons in a heartbeat and break that betrothal to Robert, if it meant that his daughter would be queen. 

Lady Tya of House Lannister, Hand of the King, was nothing short of furious.

When Rhaegar had finished speaking, an uneasy hush fell over the Small Council chambers. Every one of them knew of the agreement that had been made. Eyes darted between the Prince and the Hand, as Tya felt an icy shroud of deadly calm descend over her.

"Your Grace," Her voice cut through the silence like a knife. "A word. In private,"

Never had a sentence held such deadly promise. Varys gave a nervous chuckle. The weak-willed Master of Coin had already begun to rise. The rest of them hesitantly waited for confirmation from the prince - who nodded, once - and quick vacated their chairs. Jason followed them out with a glance at her, and she knew he would work on them outside, turn them to their side easily enough. 

"We had an agreement," Tya said coldly, facing Rhaegar, who looked solemn but unruffled. "A promise,"

"I apologise for breaking it," He did sound contrite, though that was not good enough. "But there are things out of my control, factors that you don't understand, that play a part in this,"

"Factors that I don't understand?" If it was possible, her tone grew even colder. "What, pray tell, are those? Because there are some important factors that I understand very well, which you seem to have no regard for. A king should not disrespect his lords and meddle in settled affairs, affairs that are none of his concern. And, crucially, a king should keep promises made to those who won him his throne,"

"I am not king yet," Rhaegar replied calmly, and his lack of reaction at her implication infuriated her further. As if she was the foolish, ignorant one, acting unreasonably. "It is important that I take a Stark for my bride, and Lady Lyanna is the only daughter in this generation,"

"If you lay with her in Harrenhal and want to make amends - " 

"I did not dishonour her," His eyes flashed, the first sign of anger, and she bristled at being interrupted. 

"A shame, for everyone is going to believe that you did,"

"People can believe what they like. The reason I wish to wed Lyanna is not for selfish reasons," He hesitated. "How much have you heard or read about prophecy, Lady Tya?"

There was a moment of silence. 

"Prophecy," She said flatly, incredulously. "As in, predicting the future?"

"A great darkness is to fall upon Westeros, and the entire world," He said, perfectly seriously, dark purple eyes imploring her to understand. "There is a prophecy, that a union of ice and fire can defeat this darkness. I must wed Lyanna Stark, and our son will be the Prince Who Was Promised, the only one who can save us all from the darkness and winter and death," 

Seven save us, he's as mad as Aerys.

Tya let the silence drag on.

"I know you do not believe me," Rhaegar eventually broke it. "I would not believe myself, had I not known what I do. But I ask for your patience, and your understanding that I am acting for the good of the realm,"

"I do hope that you don't speak of this to anyone else, your Grace," She replied. "The lords elected to overthrow your father for the madness afflicting his mind,"

The threat was there, and he certainly heard it. We replaced one king, we can replace another.

"The only other option is for me to wed your daughter Cersei and have Lyanna as my mistress," He said, grimacing. "Though that would no doubt be even more... disagreeable,"

"Lords Baratheon and Stark would have their armies at your gates within weeks," She said, hardly believing he had the nerve to even suggest such a thing. "You would be condemning a highborn lady to a lifetime of disgrace and scorn. Yourself as well, for my daughter would not stand for such disrespect, and neither would I," She stepped forward. "Many of the lords of Westeros view me as a vicious harridan who doesn't know her place, but many more see me as the one who held the realm together whilst your father did his best to tear it apart. Losing me as Hand would win you some allies, but not the ones that matter. For them, you would appear a young, foolish king who recklessly alienated a strong, steadfast ally over the matter of despoiling the daughter of a great house,"

She paused.

"By your leave, your Grace, I wish to return to my chambers. I hope you think on what I have said and don't send that monumentally foolish letter to Lord Stark, for it would tarnish your reign and reputation for many years. After Aerys, a strong, sensible king is needed. Do not prove within a year to be your father's son,"

Rhaegar nodded, dismissing her, clearly deep in thought. 

*

In the end, he did not send the damning raven to Lord Rickard. Tya wrote to Stark instead, advising him to push his daughter's wedding forward, to as soon as possible. There were nasty rumours going around at court, she said, suggesting that the Prince Regent had dishonoured her at Harrenhal. Tya, for her part, had spoken to Rhaegar and thought them untrue - of course the Lady Lyanna was virtuous and would not do such a thing - though it was likely best to get her married off fast before such talk reached Storm's End.

She insisted on Rhaegar's wedding to Cersei as soon as possible too, two months after the confrontation in the Small Council chambers had taken place. Her daughter was proud and had taken great offence at the news her betrothed had tried to marry another woman. She seemed hurt too, the remnants of a childish infatuation with the prince that Tya probably should have nipped in the bud sooner.

On the day of the ceremony, however, she was impressed with her daughter. Though Cersei had learned strength and politics at her mother's knee, it was her father she took the lead from then; plastering a smile on her face, charming everyone she met, working a room and making herself beloved by the guests. 

Cersei even did her best to charm her new husband, even if underneath Tya knew she was simmering with rage. Rhaegar was not an easy one to charm, though she made a valiant effort. He was cordial and gentle with his bride (as he had been with Ashara), making polite conversation and not doing anything objectionable, though it was clear there was no passion there. 

Of course, it was clear they were not madly in love - few married couples were - but considering her daughter was one of the most beautiful ladies in the Seven Kingdoms, there wasn't even lust between them. Tya was rather glad. It would be easier that way for Cersei to be respected as a queen by her husband if their marriage was more of a friendship, rather than simply a pretty wife to decorate his arm and warm his bed.

As the bedding ceremony commenced, Jason leant over to Tya where they sat at the high table and murmured in her ear.

"If he treats her how he treated Ashara Dayne, nothing in the world will stop me sticking my sword through his throat,"

She turned to look at him, slightly surprised by the uncharacteristically violent, seriously-delivered threat. But she couldn't disagree, and nodded slowly.

*

Rickard Stark had clearly taken her letter to heart. It was scarcely a month after the royal wedding before Jason, Rohanne and Tyrion were making preparations to set off to Storm's End, for the wedding of Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon, the bride only recently turned five-and-ten. 

Rhaegar and Cersei would be in attendance as well, seeing as Robert was the Prince Regent's cousin. Tya was to stay behind in King's Landing to rule in Rhaegar's absence, but it was important that the rest of her family attend, seeing as Rohanne and Brandon were to be married in a few short years.

She was wary about the prince attending the wedding, given that narrowly-averted fiasco several months ago. But she could hardly tell him not to attending, given he had listened to her advice (reluctantly) and also followed through with their agreement and wed Cersei. Jason would no doubt be on guard during their stay at Storm's End, and she trusted him to monitor and deal with any problematic situations that arose.

It was a raven from her husband that brought the news first, even before the official messages were sent. 

Tya was awoken in the early hours of the morning by someone knocking frantically at the door to her chambers. 

"Who is it?" She snapped, displeased to be woken at this hour; she slept little enough as it was.

"Grand Maester Pycelle, my lady," Pycelle's voice called out, absent of its usual wavering, feeble tone that she knew he put on around others. "There is... grave news from Storm's End,"

Someone better have died...

"Wait in the solar," She got out of bed and hastened to pull on a robe over her nightdress, putting on a pair of shoes, before leaving her bedchamber to greet the Grand Maester. "What is it?"

"It's the Prince Regent, Lady Tya," He grimaced. "Lord Jason sent an urgent raven. He's disappeared, with Ser Oswell Whent, and... and Lyanna Stark. The night before the wedding,"

Chapter Text

282AC

Grand Maester Pycelle had been the only witness to an uncharacteristically obvious display of rage the night he delivered that damning news of Rhaegar and Lyanna's disappearance.

It wasn't often that Tya Lannister lost control. She had managed twenty years at Aerys' side without doing so, even if she had made her anger very clear on many occasions. Yet that night in the gloomy, candlelit solar, with faint a ringing in her ears, Tya had swept over to her desk as the Grand Maester continued to speak. She paused for a moment, before grabbing the decanter of wine that had been left there and dashing it on the floor with a noise of fury. 

The red wine inside splashed all up her robe, as she slammed both hands onto the desk hard enough to make everything on it shake. Pycelle said nothing, though seemed slightly taken aback by her temper, which was rarely so dramatic as this.

"Is every blasted Targaryen half a step from descending into madness?" She snarled, beginning to pace up and down her solar, shattered glass crunching under her booted heel. "Is there some disease of the mind caught from sitting the Iron Throne too long? Or is it that they have been marrying brother to sister for three hundred years and are lucky to not have webbed feet?"

She was grateful there was no one else residing in the Tower of the Hand, dimly aware that she would have made a right sight to behold. The Hand of the King storming around her own solar in a robe that had come undone, red wine splashed up her nightclothes, fit to tear out her own hair.

"Though a king with webbed feet would be a damn sight preferable to a prince who kidnaps the daughter of a great lord a month after his own wedding - the night before her own! - from the very castle belonging to her betrothed. If I did not know he would murder my entire family in a heartbeat, I would reinstate Aerys to the throne under the condition he name Viserys heir!"

Tya let herself drop, unladylike, into the chair behind her desk, allowing herself a moment with her head in her hands, pretending Pycelle was not still in the room (the man seemed to want to be anywhere but here, besides, not wanting her rage to turn on him for whatever reason). Then she pulled herself together.

"Bring me a candle," She could not keep a hint of weariness from her voice as she reached for a sheath of paper and a quill. "There's work to be done,"

Now not only would running the entire kingdom be left as her responsibility - and despite the circumstances, that did manage to cause a small thrill - she would now have to prevent a war.

Many ravens flew from the rookery that night, mainly to Storm's End, to demand she be updated on the situation and to request an audience with both Houses Stark and Baratheon. Tya did not return to her bed. When the rosy light of dawn began to creep through the windows, she was still writing despite the cramping in her hands, still in her nightclothes, hair a mess around her face. 

That was how Rhaella found her. The queen had not appeared more faded and tired since before Aerys was locked up. 

"Is it true?" She asked, voice barely more than a whisper. "Pycelle said..." She broke off, unable to even voice what she was trying to say. "My son is no raper," Her tone became stronger. "He's not his father, he would not kidnap Lady Lyanna,"

"Whether he kidnapped her or seduced her into going by choice, he has likely still started a war," Tya replied sharply, lack of sleep doing nothing to soften her tone. "With the prince missing, Aerys locked up, and Viserys a child, you are now Queen Regent," Her friend blanched, startled. "Between us, we will have to hold the Seven Kingdoms together,"

"I'm not like you, Tya," Rhaella said, almost pleading. "I can't govern a kingdom - I wouldn't know where to start," 

Tya knew the queen was shaken from the news, seeing as she did not normally act so weak and frantic.

"I know," She said, barely looking up from her writing. "That's not a concern. You just have to look like you can do it - you're calm, patient and so long as you don't stumble your words, it will work. Attend Small Council meetings, sit the Iron Throne, order audiences with me. It has to look like I answer to you, otherwise there will be hostile whispers of House Lannister taking over King's Landing, of the throne being forfeit, which will not be good for either of our families,"

"People will not listen to me - "

"Then make them," She interrupted. "You are the queen, and a Targaryen. It is their duty to listen. People listened to Aerys for decades, and he was raving mad,"

Rhaella gave a weak chuckle, taking a deep breath.

"Very well," She said. "But you have to instruct me as best you can,"

Tya nodded.

"Of course," As if she'd have done anything else.

The replies from Storm's End came in swiftly, blunt and concise. The letters from Rickard Stark were nothing short of furious, though not at her - that note of warning had been a good move, looking back - and he agreed to an audience at the Red Keep. Baratheon had not even bothered to reply, though Stark claimed he would attend as well. 

Jason's second message was the most informative; he had included a note that Rhaegar had left, addressed to her. Bizarrely, he stated that he left the capital in the hands of Tya and his mother, something she was baffled by. Surely he knew that she would be working against him, having pulled this stunt? Although the note also detailed more of that ridiculous prophecy, giving his reasons for doing what he did - he needed his thrice-damned Prince Who Was Promised, his son of ice and fire - so he was likely as capable of rational thought as Aerys was, just better at hiding it. 

Her husband had also spoken to Ser Arthur Dayne. The Kingsguard knight had once been Rhaegar's closest friend and confidant, though that had changed after how the prince had destroyed and disgraced his sister. Dayne had reportedly refused to have any part in the prince's scheme, hoping that would deter him, however he had gone off with Whent instead. The Sword of the Morning had little more to add, aside from reiterating that Rhaegar was obsessed with that prophecy, deluded enough to believe it real. 

Tya had started to develop a twitch at the cursed word.

Stark and Baratheon travelled up the Kingsroad to the Red Keep with Tya's family; all of them, seeing as Jaime and Damon had come for the wedding too. She met with the lords herself; Robert had his surly brother Stannis at his side, whilst Lord Rickard had his eldest two sons. Brandon was like a raging wolf who looked ready to tear apart the whole city, though the second son, Eddard, was quiet, his stare like ice. Tya watched him more closely of the two.

"Before you declare war," She spoke before anyone else could, stood behind her desk with Jason at her side, the rest of them in front of her. "Let me remind you that there is no one here to fight. Rhaegar has vanished, Lady Lyanna with him," Brandon Stark actually growled. "So unless you wish to take your revenge on a raving madman, the pregnant queen, or the six-year-old prince, there is none to be had here. Also remember," She raised her voice as three men tried to speak at once. "That my family has been deeply insulted by the prince's actions as well, seeing as Rhaegar is married to my daughter," In other words, I am on your side for now so do cooperate.

There was a beat of silence.

"Where the fuck is the bastard, then?" Robert Baratheon demanded angrily. "No matter what you say, Lannister, I've already send out men, search parties, to get her back. Gods only know what he's doing to her,"

"Myself as well," Rickard Stark said gruffly. "And if the prince is found with her, there will be repercussions,"

"Bloody ones," Brandon said darkly.

"Do as you wish," Tya truly did not care, for Jason had taken her aside upon his return and informed her that after only two months of marriage, Cersei was pregnant. That child would be the key to holding onto power; she had never prayed for much before, though would be willing to spend a month on her knees before the Mother to ensure that the baby would be a boy.

They seemed taken aback by that.

"Did you not fight tooth and nail to put Rhaegar on the throne?" Stark raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought you'd be more loyal, Lady Tya,"

"He shamed my daughter and went back on our promise," She said coldly. "I warned him what would happen and he did not listen. Now he will have to face the consequences,"

*

283AC

With little to do in King's Landing, the Starks and Baratheons returned to Storm's End to continue their search for Lyanna. Jaime left to escort Damon back to Highgarden, and Tyrion went with them. Jason told her the boy wished to see Oldtown, which they were apparently planning on travelling onto. 

Rhaegar remained missing into the new year. Though Tya marvelled at his sheer stupidity, the absence of the Prince Regent did mean that she was essentially acting as Lady Regent herself. Never had her own power been so unchecked, a fact that no doubt made many lords nervous. Some, because they knew her ambition and that she was a forced to be reckoned with. Others, because she was a woman with the power of a king. 

Publicly, Rhaella was in charge, though the role the queen could play was limited by her fast-advancing pregnancy. There were two entire months where Tya was in sole control, given the troublesome birth of Princess Daenerys. She had feared that she was going to lose yet another friend - so soon after Loreza - given the nasty fever that Rhaella developed after the little princess was born, but the queen pulled through and was delighted with her new daughter. Daenerys was small, almost worryingly so, but seemed healthy aside from that.

Not only did Rhaegar miss the birth of his sister, but also that of his own child seven months after his disappearance. To the smugness and sheer relief of both Cersei and Tya, the baby was a son. A healthy boy with silver-gold hair and wide eyes of deepest purple. There was no doubting who his father was from his colouring, though there were definite traces of the Lannisters in his face, curly hair and his piercingly loud cries.

Cersei doted on the boy, as first-time mothers tended to do - even Tya had been far more delighted with her own twins than she had anticipated being with any child - though she was mindful not to spoil him. Aegon, her daughter had named him with a wicked smile. Rhaegar had always wanted a son named Aegon, and reportedly sought one from Lyanna Stark for his wretched ice and fire prophecy nonsense. Now he had one from the wife he disgraced.

Tya's fury at the prince had not lessened at all. The fact he had done something so monumentally stupid so soon into his regency reflected badly on her; she had put forward the idea of Rhaegar becoming regent to many of the lords, and her judgement was called into question when he acted so poorly.

This was a very delicate situation, but one she could twist to her advantage. The realm under Tya's handship had been stable and prosperous. It still was, despite teetering on the brink of war. She could do nothing but agree with the concerns of the lords, condemn Rhaegar's actions as unpredictable and foolhardy, and throw a large and public celebration for the birth of the new prince, Aegon, the result of a union between House Targaryen and House Lannister.

In a gesture of good faith to House Stark, her brother Kevan had (unprompted) sent out men of his own from Casterly Rock to search for Lyanna. They had met up with Jaime, Damon and Tyrion on their way back from Oldtown, and her sons had also joined the still-ongoing search. Tya privately thought that if the missing pair had not been found in seven months, they were likely in Essos and out of reach forever, which was not an unfavourable outcome.

She also had to ensure the Kingsguard would not go behind her back to support their prince. Barristan Selmy, Jonothor Darry and Lord Commander Gerold Hightower had never been overly happy with Rhaegar usurping Aerys in the first place - seeing it as a failing of their vows - particularly as none of them liked Tya overmuch. They had taken some convincing, which she had left to Rhaella, but ultimately ended up on side.

Arthur Dayne was firmly against Rhaegar, whilst Whent was away with him. Lewyn Martell, a fellow Dornishman, seemed to side with Dayne whilst the newest member of the Kingsguard - a Stormlander named Balon Swann - clearly sided with his former liege lord and would not support the prince. 

Of course, none of them would ever raise a sword to him either, as it was their sworn duty to protect the royal family. To compromise, Tya kept Martell, Swann, Hightower and Selmy in the city to protect the remaining Targaryens, whilst sending Darry and Dayne off to join the search parties for Rhaegar and their missing Kingsguard brother.

Amongst all her time spent dealing with the various fires to put out across Westeros, she had still found time to visit Aerys, just once. It was unavoidable, now.

The king had been sat by the window in his chambers, muttering to himself furiously, shaking his head as though trying to shake off a swarm of flies. Tya stepped through the door, her two guards remaining at the entrance. He looked truly awful; hair falling in long, stringy strands down his back, nails hideously long and torn, skin sallow and greyish in colour.

At first he did not look up, caught up staring at nothing in particular. But at the sound of her heeled boots on the floor as she slowly walked further into Aerys' luxury prison, his head snapped up abruptly, bleary lilac eyes focusing on her and clearing slightly.

"I heard you've been asking for me," Every couple of days she received word that he had requested her presence. Every time until now, she had taken some small satisfaction in ignoring the royal summons, having had enough of dancing to the whims of the Mad King. But they had said he seemed more sane, today, so for once she had decided to go.

Tya wasn't sure what she was expecting. 

Aerys stared at her for a long moment. Then his face - aged beyond his years - cracked into a wide smile. The king began to laugh, rasping and awful, the look on his face nothing short of mocking. 

"You helped my son usurp me," He crowed. "Only for Rhaegar to do his best to start a war with half the kingdoms, then vanish into thin air. Say what you like of me, Tya, but I never did that," 

He broke off, overcome by a bout of coughing, and she wondered how bad he was on other days if this was considered sane. However, mad laughter aside, his speech actually seemed relatively lucid, which made the words themselves - which were true - so much worse. Yet despite herself, Tya felt her lips twitch.

"That is true," She replied, sitting down in the armchair opposite him. "You never stole away a highborn lady for the sake of a prophecy. Though the things you did do could fill an entire tome with tales of insanity, cruelty and foolish decisions," 

His eyes narrowed, proud as ever.

"I did not abandon the throne to the wolves. Or should I say lions,"

She shrugged, a casual gesture she had not used in a long time.

"The throne is not abandoned. The Seven Kingdoms are far easier to govern without a Targaryen in charge,"

His brief rage turned back to mocking amusement. She was rather surprised to find him in... well, not high spirits, but not spitting and snarling at her, trying to scratch her eyes out with those awful long nails. Though that could change at any moment, she knew. He had little to lose now, though no doubt still feared she would kill him.

"So you have what you longed for all along - my Iron Throne grasped in those lioness' claws," 

"I've grasped the throne for years now, Aerys, you just didn't pay enough attention to notice," She replied. "Though the power of a king has a certain edge over the power of a Hand, I'll admit. As does power over the future king,"

"Ah yes," He wrinkled his nose slightly. "We now share a grandchild,"

"Aegon," Her head inclined. "A robust, healthy boy with a strong set of lungs," Oddly enough, marrying outside ones immediate family seemed to lead to babies that lasted longer than a month. "He will make a fine king. His hair is silver and gold, and I've been told his stare is rather unnerving for an infant. I don't see it myself," 

"That could have been our son, you know," He sounded almost sulky. 

"Our bastard son," She said coldly. "We have been through this before. You would never have married me, and I would never stoop to being your whore. Even if I were your wife, the moment you laid a hand on me you would regret it," His expression had darkened, but she continued before he could open his mouth. "I didn't come here to gloat," Not just to gloat, anyway. "Why do you suppose that today, of all days, I chose to pay you a visit, having ignored your summons for months?"

Aerys glared at her, then.

"If you say out of pity, I will - "

"The alchemist's guild was disbanded," She cut across him, watching his face closely. "I disbanded it myself, this very morning,"

The king's expression changed instantly. In a matter of seconds, he had gone white with fury, staggering to his feet. She rose too, not wanting to be caught off guard.

"No. How dare you?" His voice was low, shaking. His hands were shaking too. "You have no right, no right at all, none... Presumptuous Lannister whore, how dare you?" His volume rose in volume and madness with each word.

Tya raised her voice to be heard over him.

"As to why, I think you know something of that," From her gown pocket she drew out a series of messy, scrawled messages on ragged parchment. "Lord Varys delivered these to the Small Council this morning. Messages from you, sent through acolytes disguised as servants, to Rosshart. You order caches of wildfire stored all over the city - Flear Bottom, the Great Sept, the Dragonpit, even under the Red Keep itself,"  

Tya rarely shouted at anyone - she did not need volume to inspire fear and authority though her voice was raised now. Part of it was simply to be heard over his continued angry ramblings, and part of it was the result of twenty years of suppressed frustration, resentment and insults finally coming out at the man who had caused it.

"You put that wildfire back, Tya, you bitch, and allow the guild to do their work," The king snarled, getting up in her face, looming over her. Ah, wasn't this familiar. 

She raised a hand as she heard her guards start to move forward, not backing down.

"So you can destroy the entire city on a madman's whim?" She spat back at him. "I would have to be out of my mind myself to agree to that! You mock Rhaegar for abandoning the city, but you would have levelled it to the ground. You are a traitor to your family, a traitor to your kingdom, a traitor to your house's legacy - "

"You vile, wretched, hateful woman! I never should have made you Hand - never should have let you remain in court,"

"You were well within your rights to have dismissed me at any point," Tya snarled. "Except you were too afraid that I'd slit your throat in your sleep to dare - quite rightly. And you knew that without me, your kingdom would fall apart. What do you know of ruling, other than planning fancy feasts and making grand suggestions and promises that lead nowhere?"

"I know fire and blood!" He screamed back. "I would rather burn than rot in here for the rest of my life. And I would have you, you and all the other traitors, burn with me. If I cannot have your head on a spike, your ashes will have to suffice! The dragon will not submit to the will of lesser men. The dragon will burn each and every last one of his enemies. Burn them all. Burn them all,"

"Lady Tya," The slightly anxious voice of a guardsman broke through the argument, fighting to be heard as Aerys continued to shriek. "My apologies for interrupting. It's just... word came of the prince. He's been found, by your son Ser Jaime. Lady Lyanna is with him, though there is a... complication,"

Chapter Text

283AC

The midday sun in the Red Mountains was merciless.

Jaime had never been so far south before, and the heat of the Dorne was getting to him. The fifteen or so of his Uncle Kevan's men accompanying them, riding under his command, did not favour the weather either. The Westerlands were much farther north, far more temperate even in the height of summer; none of them were used to this.

Among those men were his old friends from his days as a squire, Addam Marbrand and Lyle Crakehall. His ten and eleven-year-old brothers Tyrion and Damon had also been eager to continue to travel with them on their search for Lady Lyanna, after they returned from visiting Oldtown, and he saw no real reason to object. Tyrion in particular rarely left King's Landing, and while he swore he was enjoying his lessons with their mother, Jaime thought it was good for him to be out from her shadow for at least a few months.

Theirs were one of the many groups of riders (though the only ones not from the North or Stormlands) out searching for Lady Lyanna Stark, and the man who had stolen her out from under the nose of her father and betrothed. 

Jaime had spent his early childhood in the Red Keep, and had thought he knew the prince well enough, though he would not consider him a good friend. He been very surprised to hear that Rhaegar would do such a thing, particularly with Tya Lannister looming over every move he made. He grinned slightly at the thought of what his mother would do to the prince when - if - he returned to King's Landing. 

What he would do if it was their party who found the elusive pair? Jaime wasn't exactly pleased with Rhaegar himself. Not only had the man wed Cersei - and of course he would loathe anyone who married his twin on principle - he had disgraced her, upset her, abandoned her while she birthed his son and heir.

Jaime had been in turmoil after Rhaegar had vanished. He wished more than anything to comfort his sister, who hid her pain and anger behind her usual charming public mask. He knew she would not receive it well, however. Neither would Father. Things had not been the same between any of them since some time before the Harrenhal tourney, a fact that still pained him. 

He grimaced at the memory. 

Father had always been the parent that he and his siblings had gone to for comfort. Jaime loved his mother, he truly did, but she was not like any woman he knew. Most mothers were kind and gentle, singing their children to sleep, soothing their fears and wiping their tears. The idea of the Lady Hand doing any such thing was laughable, though Jaime did not mind that particularly. There were other reasons he and his mother often clashed. His father had always been plenty kind enough to them all to make up for it.

The look on Jason Lannister's face had been anything but kind that awful day.

It had been just before they were due to leave for the tourney at Harrenhal; Jaime had been in the city after helping to defeat the Kingswood Brotherhood. Cersei had come to him late one night - their chambers in the Tower of the Hand were adjacent, the only ones on that floor - and neither of them had been thinking. They knew that their mother had gone to bed, but had not counted on their father climbing the stairs at just the wrong moment.

Who knew what he had heard that prompted him to open the door, but he had done so nonetheless. Cersei had smothered a scream at the sound of someone entering the room. Jaime had leapt off her, instinctively reached for his sword, only to realise who it was that stood in the doorway.

He had never seen his father look quite so much like Mother. The man had shut the door with a quiet click and a face of stone as his son and daughter hastily covered themselves, straightening their clothes.

"Father - " Jaime began, but was silenced with one look.

"I thought I put a stop to this when you were eight," He said, and Jaime heard the pain in his voice. The shocked revulsion and fury as well. "Then, I thought you were just children, foolishly playing without knowing what you were doing. But this..."

The expression he pulled had Jaime looking at the floor.

"Don't tell Mother," His sister blurted out, starting to cry. For once, he didn't think her tears were false; she might strive desperately for Mother's approval, more than any of the rest of them, but loved their father dearly. "Please, Father,"

"I won't tell your mother, for the simple reason that it would break her to know her eldest children let her down so disgracefully," He said, no less cold, though his voice was quiet so no one else in the sleeping tower could hear. "Not to mention, her reaction would likely break you as well. Though if this disgusting, unnatural behaviour ever happens again, I will have no other option,"

"You and Mother are cousins," Jaime could not help but say. "You love her. How would you feel, if you could never be with her?"

"Are you as mad as Aerys? Cousins are not twin siblings," He narrowed his eyes. "I hated your mother when we were children, and she hated me. The only reason we were betrothed was to avoid another poor match for her like Emmon Frey. Love came later. You are Lannisters, not Targaryens. Unless you wish to join the king in starting more rumours to sully your mother's reputation, you will never do this again,"

"Father, please - "

"Cersei, do you wish it to be publicly known that you are not a maid?" He spoke over her. "Someone will find out, if this continues, and you will be left with no option but to marry some old widower. We are not the main branch of the family - the only reason you have good prospects is due to our influence in court. And Jaime, if you think your mother will stand for the future Lord of Casterly Rock being known for... for laying with his sister," All three of them cringed. "You are sorely mistaken,"

They were grateful, in the days following that awful encounter - which might be one of the worst moments of Jaime's life - that their mother was very busy with preparations for Harrenhal. At the time, he had wondered what she could possibly be concerning herself with, seeing as she wasn't hosting the tourney herself; that had all been revealed later, of course. They were also lucky that she tended to have a blind spot when it came to her own family, and missed the fact that neither Jaime nor Cersei could look their father in the eye.

He knew that Cersei felt guilty about the whole thing, but more that their father had caught them at it. Given that their father had an eye on them most of the time, when his sister asked to talk to him in private, he had had her come on one of the rides with Tyrion and Rohanne, where they hung back slightly, heads together.

Then, Cersei had tried to convince him to join the Kingsguard, for there was an empty place then. All so he could be at her side forever whilst she married the prince. 

Her intentions were good, yet Jaime had refused nonetheless, for a multitude of reasons.

Despite all the time he had lived in Casterly Rock, he had grown up at court. None of his parents or siblings spared him anything in their letters, nor when he visited. He knew what the Kingsguard had to deal with - standing outside the queen's door whilst she was raped by the king, standing by as Aerys burnt innocent people with wildfire - and would not sign his life away for that.

Not to mention his mother would likely disown him. It often seemed like, deep down, she had not moved on from the two years in which she had been heir of Casterly Rock before Kevan was born, and had been eyeing up their house's seat ever since. He was her key to the Rock, considering he was to marry cousin Janei, and if he was to sabotage that in any way...

Besides, there were better things for him to do than stand guard for the rest of his life. Being the Lord of the Westerlands would be dull at times, but he knew all of Uncle Kevan's stewards and advisors were capable, loyal and could do all the mind-numbingly boring work. He did not mind some of it, besides. Whilst he had never taken to politics under his mother's tutorage, his uncle presented things differently. Made them make sense, and played to his strengths rather than hers. And he did not glare at him when he did not know the answer as though that look alone would make him magically know what to say. 

Yet it was his father's inevitable disappointment and anger was the main reason for him refusing his sister's offer. 

"They'll separate us if you don't, Jaime," Cersei had implored him. "Father won't let us be anywhere near each other otherwise, after what he saw. This way, it's out of his hands,"

But if he accepted, Father would know exactly why. Call him a coward but he could not face that look on his face again. Not even for Cersei. Disappointing Mother was one thing - she seemed perpetually disappointed in everyone around her - but disappointing Father was something else entirely.

"Jaime, look," Damon's eager voice caught his attention, and he was torn away from his dark thoughts. "There's tower on that hill there. I know it's barely midday, but could we shelter there tonight?"

The men made noises of agreement. As hot as days in the Red Mountains were, with no clouds in the sky the nights grew freezing cold. Some form of shelter, even that tiny tower, would be welcome. He wanted a good night's sleep as much as anyone, so agreed with the majority and led them towards the small tower, the only building for leagues and leagues.

"Horses outside," Addam rode up beside him as they drew closer, squinting into the distance. "Someone beat us to it,"

"I'm sure they won't mind sharing," Lyle grinned. "Might even have some better food than dried meat and hard bread - we can't be more than three days from Starfall, here," 

There was a murmur of approval from the rest of the men.

Jaime had a bad feeling about this but did not voice it. He was glad he didn't, for as they approached, a man came out to greet them. A man wearing the white armour of the Kingsguard. 

Their entire party stilled, shocked at the sight of Oswell Whent. Jaime forced himself to recover quickly, muttering at Tyrion and Damon to get behind the other men before fixing a sharp smile on his face.

"Ser Oswell," He greeted with bravado; if Whent was here, then so was... "Is his Grace anywhere to be found? We've been looking for him for quite some time,"

Whent let out a darkly amused chuckle, as Rhaegar appeared at his shoulder.

"Ser Jaime," The prince inclined his head, as though they were casually meeting in the halls of the Red Keep. "What brings you here?"

Behind him, Jaime heard Lyle snort incredulously, and felt like doing the same himself. 

"I'm sure you've realised that the entire realm is searching for you, your Grace," He said. "They're started to worry that if you leave the throne in the claws of my mother too long, you'll never get it off her again," That earned a laugh from his men, though the threat was hardly subtle. "You don't happen to have a certain wayward bride here with you, by any chance?"

Loud footsteps could be heard on the stairs behind them, and Whent cursed under his breath. Speak of the Stranger and she will appear. 

"My lady, I thought you were told to stay upstairs," Rhaegar turned to face the woman - the girl - who had rushed down to join them. 

It had been eight months since anyone had seen her last.

"Fucking hells," Lyle muttered, and once again Jaime shared the sentiment. Lyanna Stark's belly was visibly swollen with pregnancy. There was no question whose it was.

"Jaime Lannister?" She ignored the prince completely, her tone blandly cordial, so different from the wild, lively girl with a wicked smile who had emptied her drink over her younger brother's head at Harrenhal. "My brother is betrothed to your sister. Please, ser, I - " 

"Lyanna," She broke off as Rhaegar took her arm in warning, shrinking away from him slightly. "Remember what we spoke of. It's not safe to leave, not until Aegon is born," 

Her reaction to his touch, as well as the way she looked up at Jaime - her eyes reminded him of a cornered animal despite her ladylike tone - told him all he needed to know. He had only met Lyanna a few times, and they had exchanged little more than courtesies, but he knew that she would not plead like that easily. 

Until now, he had suspected that the girl had foolishly run off with Rhaegar, believing herself in love, rather than the claims of rape and kidnapping that Stark and Baratheon were throwing around. Now he wasn't so sure.

"You already have a son named Aegon, your Grace," Jaime's smile was sharp enough to cut. "My sister blessed you with a strong healthy boy in your absence. He has violet in his eyes, gold and silver in his hair, and sits the Iron Throne on the lap of his grandmother whenever she holds court," You don't deserve Cersei, you never did, and Lyanna Stark did nothing to deserve you. 

At that, saw the wolf stir in the girl's eyes. 

"You bastard," Lyanna's voice was barely more than a whisper as she looked up at the prince, the look on her face unmistakably betrayal. Fury, too. "I had no doubts of that already, but... you absolute fucking bastard," 

She tore her arm out of his grip, darting backwards when he tried to grab her again. When Whent moved to stop her, there was a murmur of shock from the watching men as she pulled an eating knife out of her skirts. Particularly when - instead of pointing it at the armoured knight or trained warrior prince where it would admittedly be useless - she held it to her own neck.

"I'll do it," She looked Rhaegar dead in the eye. "Don't think I won't," 

Jaime recognised that this was not just the dramatics of a young girl.

"Let her pass," He said, more cold than one should address the future king, smile gone. "Now,"

"Seven hells, you've changed since you were a boy," Whent muttered. "Never used to be able to imitate your mother quite so well," 

Prick. Nonetheless, the man stepped out of Lyanna's way with a terse nod from Rhaegar. Clearly the prince valued the child growing inside her that much. She was pregnant, but clearly only around five or so months; nowhere near enough that the babe would survive even if it was cut out of its mother.

Lyanna practically ran past Whent and Rhaegar, straight to one of the tied-up horses that he presumed was hers; it looked Northern and stocky enough. Jaime nodded to one of his men, who dismounted and moved to assist her with putting on the saddle and bridle. He was going to offer that she ride behind him or one of the others, given her condition, though if he had been locked in a tower for eight months he would doubtless want his own horse too.

"Are you coming too, your Grace?" He turned back to Rhaegar, tearing his attention from the girl who was surprisingly adept at tacking a horse, a job most ladies never even thought about. "Or would you rather enjoy more time spent in this delightful tower?"

"I sense there is little option otherwise," The prince replied, and had the nerve to smile wryly.

"You're the Prince Regent," Jaime shrugged. "We can hardly drag you back as a prisoner," Though this was a very strange power dynamic. They probably could do just that, but they would hardly get away with it upon returning to King's Landing.

"Yet you will take Lyanna no matter what. Therefore, I ride with you,"

"Do as you wish," He said carelessly. "Though if you will oblige me, your Grace - Lady Lyanna rides at the front where I can see her, whilst you and Ser Oswell ride at the back,"

Whent had moved to tack his and Rhaegar's horses, whilst Lyanna was already swinging into the saddle from the ground. Perhaps with less grace than she would have done prior to pregnancy, but impressive nonetheless. She sat astride, Jaime noticed, her skirts gathered up on either side. Some of his men were ogling the fraction of bare leg this revealed, though Addam was already giving them stern looks to stop.

"Before we set off tomorrow, it might be advisable to change into some breeches, my lady," He said to her as she guided her horse into their group. "Perhaps tuck your hair under a cap, too. Your father and betrothed have many search parties out searching for you, but I'm sure there are less savoury characters out there who would love the idea of such a large ransom,"

She nodded wordlessly.

It took the girl a few days to start speaking to anyone beyond answering questions with bland, polite answers. For the most part, Jaime let her ride in peace alongside him. She did not complain about the heat, nor the fast pace, nor the breeches he had requested from one of the more slightly-built men to lend to her.

Though he did notice how after a while she started speaking to Tyrion and Damon as the travelled. Perhaps they reminded her of her own younger brother, who couldn't be more than a year or two older, or perhaps the young boys were simply the easiest to get along with... everything. Tyrion was happy to talk anyone's ear off if they expressed the slightly interest in what he was saying, whilst Damon, with his kind smile and thoughtful remarks, was ever a calming presence.

"Jaime," Tyrion called to him eagerly on the fourth day. "Jaime, you'll never guess what Lyanna said - "

"Stop it," The girl hissed at him, though she was fighting a small smile. "Tyrion, you're terrible at keeping secrets,"

"Secrets?" He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Planning to kill me in my sleep, my lady?"

"It wouldn't be you I would be plotting to kill," She muttered darkly, making him repress a laugh. 

"Lyanna told us she could joust, and I laughed at her," His little brother said gleefully. "So she got annoyed and said she rode in the Harrenhal tourney. A mystery knight - we saw her, remember,"

"That was you?" Jaime had to admit he was shocked, and more than a little impressed. "The Knight of the Laughing Tree, I presume? You brought down three squires,"

"I'll never be telling your brother anything I wish kept secret again," She rolled her eyes, reminding him how young she was; sixteen, almost two years younger than him. "But yes, I did,"

"Had Aerys not had a coup to distract him, I feared he would string whoever it was up from the walls," He shook his head. "You weren't bad for a squire, let alone a lady. Your seat was excellent, though your arm was weaker, if I recall. You dropped your elbow too much,"

"You say that like I'll ever joust again," She gave a hollow laugh. "For all I know, they'll send me to the Silent Sisters when we return,"

"Your father wouldn't go to all this effort to find you to just do that," 

"Either way, I will never be let out of anyone's sight again. Though surely I cannot marry Robert with this," She gestured at her stomach. "That's something, I suppose," 

Jaime chose not to voice his father's words to Cersei. The idea of Lyanna marrying an old widower was strangely depressing, considering he barely knew her.

He still did not miss how she refused to look at Rhaegar. Would he try and hold onto her, keep her in court instead of quietly letting her return to Winterfell in disgrace? The idea of that was even worse.

She became slowly more talkative over the next few days of travel. There were times when she would go quiet and sink into that dark, distant mood again, but they became fewer and far between. Though Lyanna was undoubtedly more subdued that she had been when he had seen her previously, she began to smile more often, speak more freely, even laugh a couple of times.

"Here," When most people had gone to bed one night, Jaime approached the girl where she was sat by the dying fire, holding out one of his daggers hilt-first. "Take this. You might need it," He smiled tightly as she glanced at the prince's tent. "Careful, now. I'm sure that look wasn't treasonous, though others might take it differently,"

"It was definitely treasonous," Lyanna muttered, and he snorted, glad they were out of earshot of the tents.

"In your case treason is quite justified, I'd say,"

"Don't tell your mother that," She warned. "Returning will be bad enough without being strung up on the gallows,"

"My mother has certainly thought far worse these past months. Probably planned worse," He said, glad when her lips twitched into a faint smile. "I'm not actually sure how she will react to Rhaegar's return. She backed him in front of the entire Seven Kingdoms, and he humiliated her," His mother despised being humiliated more than anything else.

"What will she do to me?" The question seemed to spill from her lips, as though Lyanna had not wished to voice that fear. "Your sister is his wife, and I carry his... his bastard,"

Why do you hesitate? Jaime wasn't sure what he could say to that.

"Pray it's a girl," He said eventually, though judging from the look on her face he was sure she already was. "And if not... best seem like you haven't a bone of ambition in you other than to return home and live a quiet life in the North with your lowly bastard son - a Snow, not a Rivers nor a Waters. Cry, tremble, act the traumatised, feeble victim if you have to,"

"Isn't that what everyone expects me to be anyway?" The look in her eyes then was hard to discern. 

"Are you not? Though admittedly you're not weeping, you seem pretty traumatised to me - "

"I'm not some damsel in distress, Lannister," She had that look in her eyes again, an old, proud defiance that suited her so much more than the ladylike shell she had worn. 

"I did have to rescue you from a tower. That's how it goes in the songs, is it not?" He was joking, and she knew it, but that didn't stop her eyes narrowing in anger. 

"In the songs, the lady is an innocent maiden stolen away, who gracefully weeps her days away," Lyanna said. "She does not go with her jailer willingly, does not lay with him willingly, does not enjoy it,"

He had suspected as much, though it was a shock to hear her admit it.

"Perhaps not," He said mildly. "At the start, anyway. What about when it wasn't willing, and you didn't enjoy it?"

Her bitter smile made her look far older than sixteen.

"That makes me no less of a whore, to most people. I was asking for it, they'll say. They'll laugh and say what did I expect - that it's a fitting punishment, that I got what I deserved in the end. I'm not the sweet, innocent maiden in this story, Lannister,"

"Whether you lay with someone once and enjoyed it, that's still rape if he forces you a second time,"

"Don't say that word," She snarled. "I - it makes me sound weak,"

Fair enough. In her place, no doubt he'd feel the same, though he disagreed with the sentiment from where he was stood now.

There was a silence.

"What did he tell you?" Jaime asked the girl. "To get you to go with him. You don't seem easily led," 

She was silent for a moment, pale face glowing in the firelight, knees huddled to her chest; as far as they could go with her six-months pregnant belly anyway. He could sense there was something she wished to say, that was on the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of it.

"He said he loved me," Lyanna said instead. "I didn't believe it, not really, but he was kind and handsome and said I could be his... official mistress," Again, that hesitation. There was something she wasn't telling him. "It would be a disgrace initially, but he said he would sort everything out with my family, with Robert, and the High Septon. He said I would be free to ride, hunt, travel and do whatever I liked. So long as I bore him just one son, for some prophecy he'd read about. It sounded absurd, but better than being married to Robert, so I away I went," She chuckled mockingly. "Stupid girl. It was less than a year ago, but I feel so much older," 

There was a pause.

"Out of interest, what was so bad about Baratheon?" Jaime asked. "Not that I'm judging you - I would likely run away rather than marry him, in your place," Though for entirely different, Cersei-related reasons. 

Lyanna smiled bleakly.

"Robert wasn't even that bad," She said. "That was the worst of it. I knew he had a temper, but so do I, and he never used it against me. I know that he likes to ride and hunt, so I likely would've been able to do that as well. I could see us becoming friends, eventually. But he drinks and whores far too much. I know Ned said that he was a good man and would respect me as his wife, but I think once Robert bored of me he would go back to the same ways. And as Lady of Storm's End, I'd have responsibilities tying me down, a castle to run, heirs to pop out. My life wouldn't be my own. I figured I'd rather be scorned as the king's mistress than give up a chance at that kind of freedom,"

"Even if you could stand the sight of him, I would advise against becoming Rhaegar's mistress," He said. "My sister would sooner poison your food or smother you in your sleep than stand having you at court,"

To his surprise, she laughed, albeit bleakly.

"If he tries to keep me at court, I really will start a war,"

Chapter Text

283AC

Tya had persuaded Rhaella sit the Iron Throne to receive her errant son. Though at first the Queen Regent had been very uncomfortable about sitting on the throne of her husband, father and grandfather, she had grown more used to it in the past months. Though still as calm and softly-spoken as ever, Rhaella had a way of getting people to quieten to listen to her; not unlike Tya's own skill, albeit not borne out of fear.

Cersei sat in a smaller chair at the base of the right side of the throne, with Aegon in her lap, both dressed in red and black, though she wore a golden lion necklace. Tya stood behind her daughter, dressed all in black, unadorned with jewellery, with a face of stone. 

Young Viserys was on the other side of the throne, along with a nursemaid holding baby Daenerys. Rhaegar's three daughters were with them; dark-haired Visenya, aged three, was holding Viserys' hand, whilst the younger silver-haired princesses, Daena and Valaena, were being monitored by another maid. Tya had the girls dressed in variations of purple and silver; Dayne colours. Ser Arthur, who doted on all three, glanced at them occasionally then returned to narrowing his eyes at the door, waiting for his former friend to enter.

Tya gave stern instructions to be passed onto Jaime, to report with Lyanna Stark to the throne room immediately, rather than going to change or bathe. It was not a public audience; they were the only ones in attendance, aside from the Kingsguard. Not even the Small Council was present. Rhaegar may join them, or he may not. She did not wish to open the inevitable conflict with summoning the heir to the throne - gods help us - to his own throne room like a scolded child. Never mind that was exactly what he was. 

She did not immediately recognise Lady Lyanna when the group entered. She did not recognise that it was a woman who walked at Jaime's side at all, not until she saw the telltale bump through the roughspun tunic she wore. Tya had already been warned of that complication beforehand; it did complicate matters, but was hardly unexpected given that a son was Rhaegar's entire reason for doing all... this. 

Lyanna's hair was tucked under a peasant's cap, and she wore men's clothes; no doubt to prevent any ransom attempts. Her son wasn't as slow as he often liked to act. The girl walked between Jaime and Rhaegar - with Oswell Whent on Rhaegar's other side - though she had drifted clearly towards Tya's son. That spoke volumes... unless Jaime had told her to do that as well. Even if he had, it was most likely to their benefit.

"Mother," Rhaegar had the grace to lower his head to acknowledge Rhaella, sat far above him, the throne that would have been his seat now if it wasn't for his stupidity. 

The Queen Regent looked very sad. 

Jaime and Lyanna bowed and curtseyed to her respectively, the girl's made slightly clumsy from her swollen stomach. 

"Cersei," Rhaegar turned to his wife - Cersei's bared-teeth smile was laced with poison - and then to his goodmother. "Lady Tya," 

He did not hold her gaze very long. Good. Rhaegar had always been one of the few who was least affected by her glares and sharp words, even less so than Aerys; her glares had always riled him, at least made him grumble at her, whilst his son just stared back, impassive and above it all.

There was a heavy silence. 

"Why did you do it?" Rhaella's words spilled from her lips, sorrowful, imploring, already going off-script. Tya was glad she had made this a private audience. The Kingsguard were forbidden from speaking the secrets of the royal family, whilst the two nursemaids were both in her own pocket. "Rhaegar, they're calling you a kidnapper, a raper. Please... please tell me you didn't,"

"Lady Lyanna went with me of her own free will," The prince said, voice calm and clear. Cersei was now glaring daggers at the girl, still wearing that fixed smile. "She wished an escape from her marriage to Lord Robert,"

"And then what happened, your Grace?" Jaime smiled sharply, as Lyanna glowered at them both. 

"Don't speak for me, Lannister," She practically snarled, though Tya sensed her fury was more directed at Rhaegar. She looked half-feral, unkept and dirty as she was, particularly when she turned to the Queen Regent with wild eyes. "I was a foolish, desperate girl who fell for false promises. I apologise for all the trouble and hurt it caused," She looked straight at Cersei, who seemed slightly taken aback by her directness. Then to Rhaegar, and Whent. "I may have gone willingly, aye, but that changed by the end. Did it not, Ser Oswell? You heard me begging and crying to go home, telling the prince no more. You stopped me throwing myself down the stairs to get rid of the brat inside me,"

Rhaella's hand had flown to her mouth in horror, and she looked sick to the stomach. Viserys was looking between his mother and the elder brother he idolised, confused and upset. Cersei's eyes were narrowed, though she was clearly calculating, reconsidering things. 

"I explained everything to you, Lyanna," Rhaegar looked at her with what seemed like genuine hurt and sadness in his eyes. Not regret, however. Hurt that she could ever think badly of him. "You knew how much was, and it still, at stake. Our son - "

"If you say a single word about that thrice-damned prophecy, I'll tear your eyes out with my bare hands," Lyanna rounded on him, and Tya saw both Cersei and Jaime smirk, though not at each other. Gods, she's as bad as her brother Brandon. "And drink a gallon of moon tea," She then had the nerve to turn in their direction and say, "Though I'm sure you've got that waiting for me, Lady Hand? Princess?" She glanced between Tya and Cersei, challenging, irreverent and surprisingly agreeable.

Jaime smothered an incredulous laugh with a cough. At least the boy had the sense to attempt to hide his amusement.

"Moon tea after four moons of pregnancy will likely be fatal to both mother and child," Tya replied smoothly. "We are on the brink of war as it is - when Lords Stark and Baratheon realise you have returned, they'll call their banners. Forcing poison down your throat - or giving it for you to take willingly - will hardly improve relations with the North and Stormlands," 

The girl raised an eyebrow briefly; otherwise you'd do it. She probably would. And the girl would have freely taken it.

"Even so," The prince gave her what he seemed to think was a warning look. "I would never allow such cruel action to come to pass. Lady Tya is the Hand, not the Regent,"

And finally, just as everyone had been waiting for, Tya turned her full attention to Rhaegar. The whole room seemed to tense, balancing on the edge of a knife point, as she raised one dangerous eyebrow.

"Cruel?" Her voice was icy cold. "You utterly selfish, delusional fool," She stepped out from behind Cersei, moving to stand directly between her and Viserys, framed perfectly by the Iron Throne. "If House Targaryen falls in the next year, it will be entirely your fault. Even if it does not, any fall of your house in the next three decades would be easily traceable back to your actions. In a matter of weeks, you will have the wolves howling at your gates, the stags right behind them. Dorne will not come to your aid, not after the death of Ashara Dayne," She would make sure of it. "The Vale are their close allies, as are the Riverlands - they would all keep out of any conflict. At best, you'd have the Crownlands and perhaps the Reach, and that's if they forget that their heir is betrothed to Lysa Tully,"

"And what of House Lannister?" The prince asked evenly. "You are my Hand, Lady Tya. Your daughter is my wife. My son is your grandchild. Lord Kevan's loyalty rightly belongs to the throne,"

"You have not laid eyes on this boy until ten minutes ago," Cersei tossed her hair, voice cold. "You sought a son from another woman scarcely two months after our wedding, shaming all of us. Aegon is as much your son as I am your wife - that is, in name and title alone,"

"I apologise, my lady," Rhaegar said, unruffled. "I did not mean to cause you grief," 

Cersei riled instantly.

"Grief? How dare - " She broke off at a look from Tya. She had a vague idea where this was heading, and wanted Cersei to stay on the right side of things.

"You shamed my daughter, abandoned my grandson before he was even born, tore the kingdoms apart and humiliated me as a result of my public support of your rise to Regent," She snapped. "You took advantage of a child's naivety, imprisoned a highborn maiden for months and forced her to bear your child. And yet you have the nerve to ask for my house's aid? I have cleaned up too many of your father's messes for too many years, boy, to dig you out of this grave you dug yourself. House Lannister will not be coming to your rescue on this occasion,"

Rhaegar went very still. The entire room seemed to be holding its breath, stunned at the words that had left her mouth. Then the prince's face twisted in sorrow once again. 

Tya knew what was coming a second before it did, and her heart skipped a beat, though she refused to show it.

"Ser Gerold," His voice was still calm and even, and she would not let it show how much that irked her. "Ser Barristan. Arrest Lady Tya and escort her to a tower cell. Treat her gently, with the respect afforded to her station, but take her there nonetheless,"

Everything she had spat at Aerys over the years, and it was these words to his son that finally got her dragged off by armed men? In all fairness, she had said she would essentially leave him to die at the hands of Stark and Baratheon and called him a raper. Both of which were true.

"Rhaegar, don't, please," Rhaella immediately rose from the throne and hurried down the stairs, horrified. 

"Gods, you really are insane," Lyanna looked disbelieving.

Jaime simply drew his sword without hesitation, to which Whent drew his own, matching him. Her son was better than half the men in this room, and stood a chance against all of them, but not all at once. 

"Mother, where are the Lannister men?" Cersei looked determined, green eyes flashing. "If he wants to make this a fight, I'll fetch them,"

"Stop," Her voice had them all freezing, even the Kingsguard. "Jaime, Cersei stand down," She slowly turned to Rhaegar. "Locking me up was something even Aerys knew better than to try, boy. Do not make this decision lightly. But if that's your will, I'll play along for now," She was already being arrested, why not add another threat or two?

"This decision is anything but made lightly, my lady," He said, nodded at the Kingsguard.

Tya could get her own men to help her fight her way out of this, but it would be a bloodbath, and there were considerably more Targaryen guards in this castle. Even if they won, it would be seen as a Lannister coup, which the lords would not stand for. Besides, she could still rule from a cell, and she would not be there for very long. If anything, this gave Kevan a genuine reason to join the side of rebels, which would save her a lot of letter-writing.

"Rhaegar, you cannot do this," Rhaella was near weeping now, as the Kingsguard approached Tya. "You foolish boy! You're too young to remember Castamere, but gods, you've heard the song. Tya, please, he doesn't know what he's doing,"

Whilst Tya misliked hearing her friend beg her for her son's life, there was something rather satisfying in knowing that her reputation was sufficient enough to threaten the man who was currently throwing her in a cell.

Neither Hightower nor Selmy dared manhandle her in any way. Ser Gerold merely gestured to the door, grim-faced, and she left walking between them, and slightly ahead. She only glanced back at Cersei, a meaningful look that she hoped her daughter was bright enough to interpret as visit me as soon as you're able.

The cell they showed her to was a tower cell, meant for noble prisoners, a far cry from the dungeons, and sheer luxury compared to the Black Cells. This room was sparse but clean, containing a narrow bed, a basin, a table and chair, though there was no fireplace. The only window was barred, which amused her slightly, given the hundred foot drop. The tower rose above the walls, and her view was of the entire city spread before her, the walls and beyond. Ironically, it was better than her view from the Tower of the Hand.

Had Jason heard by now? Surely he had; he was hardly expecting this confrontation to go well. Jaime had likely raced there before Tya even made it to her cell.

Sure enough, within ten minutes of her arriving, Jason, Jaime and Cersei had all appeared at the door and were being let in by the gaoler. With four people in the cell, it had become suddenly very cramped, made worse by the fact that the twins were both furious and thus took up far too much space. Tya was immediately faced with the full force of both her children's rage, demanding why she had let Rhaegar have her arrested, why they weren't fighting back, both swearing revenge on her behalf.

"Jaime, what is your impression of the Stark girl?" She cut them off mid-rant.

Her son gave her an odd look, but reigned in his temper.

"Lyanna just wants to go home," He said. "She hates Rhaegar, hates that she let herself be deceived, hates she's pregnant with his bastard. There's not an ambitious bone in her body. She's praying for a daughter, just to spite him,"

"Well she still can't marry Baratheon," Cersei scoffed. "Not if she's with child,"

"Rhaegar told her he wants her at court as his mistress, and that their child to be raised alongside his other children," Jaime shook his head. "She'd sooner fall on a sword than let that happen, Cersei, so stop looking so murderous,"

Tya shared a look with Jason. That would not do at all. There was a pause.

"You both are going to listen to me closely," She said, and the twins nodded as one. "Jaime, you need to leave. Take Damon, Rohanne and Tyrion, and enough guards to get you to Casterly Rock,"

"I'm not leaving you all here!"

"You will escort your siblings to the Rock, and you will deliver a letter to Kevan," Her tone was not to be argued with. "House Lannister will raise its banners for House Targaryen, yes - for Aegon not Rhaegar, though he needn't know that yet,"

"Gods, if the next in line to the throne was not a blood relative, I'm not sure anyone would let you near him," Jaime said darkly. "That'll be two rulers you've brought down,"

She was not in the mood for japes.

"You'll do it?" Her tone implied, woe betide you if not.

"Fine," He said grudgingly. "Surely we could smuggle you out - Father, Cersei and Aegon as well. No need to go down with a sinking ship,"

"We could leave, but we won't," Tya said flatly. "Kevan will explain when you get to the Rock," She saw the look on his face and softened ever so slightly. "I do... appreciate your willingness to come to my aid in the throne room. But it would have ultimately done more harm than good. It is a good thing too that you got to Lady Lyanna first - it gives us room to bargain,"

Her son inclined his head, looking less mutinous than before, simply frustrated at the fact he could not do anything he deemed to be helpful. Tya turned to her daughter.

"Cersei, you will remain here with Aegon," She said. "You will play a part and you will make it believable, which will be difficult after that display in the throne room. Tell Rhaegar anything you need to convince him that you are not allied with me. Even if you act as though we fought, or that you're trying to tear his attention away from Lyanna in a fit of jealousy," Her daughter nodded, not looking happy but knowing she was capable. "Good, now both of you leave,"

The twins both looked like they wanted to object, but saw her expression and ultimately left, leaving Tya and Jason alone.

"I'm assuming I've read your plan right," Jason raised an eyebrow. "I'll make a good show of helping Rhaegar smooth things over with Stark and Baratheon. And I suppose I'll be writing to Kevan - what man would not send armies to support his king in exchange for his dear sister's safety and release?"

Tya smiled faintly at his dry tone.

"Write to Stark too," She said. "They're angry enough try to crown Robert Baratheon otherwise - he has Targaryen blood from his grandmother,"

Over the coming week, Tya heard from Jason family at least once a day. Rhaegar was evidently still taking his advice - still benefitting from her family even after throwing her in a cell - for he offered to pay Lyanna's dowry to both Stark and Baratheon, and give a public apology. He promised her return to Winterfell and a place at court for her child.

This offer was thrown back in his face, as the two houses continue to raise their banners and march on the city. Rhaegar came back with more generous terms; lowered taxes in the Stormlands and the North, Viserys fostering at Storm's End, even a marriage between the future Stark or Baratheon heir to one of his daughters. Still to no avail. As hoped.

As instructed, Jaime had - grudgingly, according to Jason - left the city with his brothers and sister a day after Tya's arrest. A shame they could not smuggle out Cersei and Aegon in the night, but they were too closely guarded, and it would not have fitted with her plan besides.

Though three weeks after his departure, very unexpected word came through Jason from Casterly Rock. Jaime had absconded with his betrothed, Janei, in the middle of the night, leaving only a note for Kevan written by both him and the girl. It stated that Janei dreaded the idea of being Lady of Casterly Rock, of marriage and children, and wanted nothing more than to be a septa. Jaime had obliged and they were on their way to the Starry Sept in Oldtown so she could swear her vows.

From anyone else, Tya would see that as an attempt for Jaime to be the sole claimant of the Rock - Gerion having renounced his claim years ago - and to take power for himself. She could have admired that, for quite honestly this was to her benefit, but she knew that was not the reason her son had done such a thing. Jaime clearly had no desire to wed his shy little cousin, who idolised him but equally dreaded the idea of marrying him. And he had little interest in ruling in the first place; it was only via Kevan's tutelage that he was agreeable at all.

Tya found herself having to thank her son for this unintentionally helpful move, however, for it opened up another opportunity. One that Jaime would not be best pleased with, but they were at war and she had to take every chance she was offered. Tya had Jason discreetly send word to Stark, requesting Lyanna as a bride for her eldest son.

Yes, it would rankle having a Lady of the Rock who had already birthed another man's child, and doubtless there would be many who called Lyanna a whore behind her back; not to mention that Brandon Stark was already marrying Rohanne. But it wasn't like Lyanna had been disgraced by a common hedge knight - no, it had been a Targaryen prince - and most everyone believed she had been kidnapped besides. Lyanna and her bastard son would go to Casterly Rock, be away from court, away from Aegon. Now Janei was not an option, Jaime was more likely to be agreeable to a match with a girl he seemed to get along with. 

And most importantly, Stark could hardly complain given his daughter had been offered an equally respectable match as the one she had lost. A solution that Tya had come up with, not Rhaegar. It helped that she had come up with an even better solution for when they marched on King's Landing and were inevitably met with a siege.

Quite honestly, she would have offered far more than her son's hand and her brother's armies to ensure that he and Baratheon supported Aegon's claim rather than going rogue.

Rickard Stark accepted, though clearly stated that he had still not forgiven Rhaegar the insult and was still out for revenge. Robert Baratheon too was infuriated that he would not have Lyanna for a bride, no doubt having expected to rescue a blushing, grateful young woman and take her for his wife as a reward for all those battles. 

Finally, the armies of the North and Stormlands arrived at the city gates together, having waited a moons turn for the Westerlands to prepare. 

As far as Rhaegar was concerned, Kevan's larger force would be hidden from the besieging armies, then launch a surprise attack from the west, drawing the Starks and Baratheons away from the city walls. Rhaegar would then ride out from the city with his men and attack them from behind. Caught in the middle, fighting on two fronts, would lead to a crushing defeat of the rebels. 

Tya knew that Kevan's men were in place when she heard the preparations for Rhaegar's attack begin throughout the city. From her tower she had a very good view of the whole thing.

It was both amusing and immensely satisfying to watch. Stark and Baratheon made a good show of sounding the alarm at the advancing Westermen, organising their men into battle formation and rushing forward to meet them. Rhaegar then led the charge out of the gates of the city, and that was when he was done for. 

They let the charge of Targaryen loyalists clear the gates by quite a way before Stark and Baratheon roared the order to change course. Slowly the order spread, and soon the entire forces of the North, Stormlands and Westerlands were charging in the opposite direction, straight towards the city. 

Rhaegar, to his credit, reacted quickly. Not quickly enough to get him and his men behind the city walls before they were caught up with, however. That was a fatal flaw of the prince's; he refused to be the first through the gates, and thus was caught against the walls. She knew this because she could see that the gates were still open. There could be no other reason for this than loyalist lords not letting the guards close the gates without the prince behind them. Thus, the gates were not shut when the Starks, Lannisters and Baratheons reached the walls. 

It was laughably easy, really. The battle had turned in an instant, and the invaders were pouring into the city. 

Unfortunately, those holding the castle were not taking any more chances. The door to Tya's cell was flung open and three men barrelled in, all common guardsmen. 

"Treacherous bitch," One had the gall to spit at her feet, whilst two more strode in and seized her arms, dragging her away from the window and out of the cell. "We know all this was you,"

"Mind your tongue," Tya said coldly as she was manhandled down the stairs. "Surely you are not so foolish that you can't tell who will hold this city before the day is out?" Her glare snapped to the man behind her, whose hands had begun to wander. "I will have that hand removed, and if you dare touch me like that again, it will be your head,"

He flinched instictively at the venom in her tone, but recovered enough male pride to slap her around the face, hard. Tya's head snapped to the side, but she refused to raise her own hand to her stinging face, refused to show any weakness at all.

"Devan," One of the other, wiser men muttered a word of warning. 

The warning did not come soon enough. Her own hand delivered a sickening crack to the face of man who had struck her. Though he yelped in pain, he didn't take it lying down. Before Tya knew it, she was pinned to the wall by the brute, head smacking hard into the stone with his hand at her throat.

"You might be a high lady, Hand of the King, but here you're just an unnarmed woman alone with three soldiers," He hissed, breath warm and foul against her face. "No amount of being a stuck-up bitch would save you from us doing whatever we liked with you,"

"Devan, you fool, stop it," One of the others snapped, dragging him off her. 

"Do you want to sign our death warrants?" The third looked nervous. 

Rightly so. Tya hid the fact she was struggling for a breath, did not check to see if her head was bleeding, simply wore a look of cold fury as she turned to the one who had dared strike her.

"If you can do anything you wish to me, then why did you not kill me in my cell? Rape me over that table? Shove me down these stairs?" Nothing but angry silence in response. "Do not make threats you cannot follow through on. The only reason you have dragged me down here is to save your own sorry hides," And all you have done now is guarenteed your deaths.

"The king wishes to see you, actually," The other guard said, cringing slightly as her glare turned on him. Oh, you've got to be joking... "Sorry for him, milady - he shouldn't've hit you,"

"The king didn't say escort her there unharmed," Devan scowled as they continued on down the stairs. "She's a traitor - we all know what he's going to do to her anyway,"

"The king is supposed to be locked up in his rooms under strict guard," Tya said sharply. "The king is a menace to this city and himself. Or have you forgotten the daily wildfire pyres and execution of innocent people?"

"As if you care," One muttered under his breath. He was right, in a way; she cared, though more about the impression it left. 

"Well there's no guards left to keep him locked up," Another of them replied to her, shrugging. "They're all up on the walls. Someone must've let him out. We was just walking past the throne room when he called us in. It's not for the likes of us to disobey the king, even if he's wrong in the head,"

"Aerys is in the throne room?" She closed her eyes briefly. 

At least Rhaella was shut away safely in Maegor's. Jason would have left with Cersei and Aegon already; apparently he trusted Varys the Spider to get them out of the keep. One Lannister hostage was enough, they did not need two, especially now they had so obviously betrayed the crown.

"Sat on his throne," The man nodded. 

I hope he impales himself on it.

"Did the king ask you for anything else?" She asked through gritted teeth. 

"Aye, milady," For all their talk and bravado, they fell back into taking orders very easily. "He asked our friend to bring him the pyromancer. Lord Rosshart,"

For the first time that day, Tya's blood went cold in her veins, and her stomach clenched unpleasantly in fear. She had been in the process of dismantling Aerys' caches of wildfire, having them cleared in the dead of night by small teams of discreet men. But she had not yet got all of them - the work was slow, given the care one had to take transporting the substance - and she could not be sure she even knew where they all were. 

"You fools. Rosshart and Aerys hid an enormous amount of wildfire all over the city," She hissed, settling on the blunt and honest truth, with a little exaggeration. "One of the many reasons we locked him up. The pyromancer is the only one who knows where all of the caches are. Get me to the throne room, now, unless you want the entirety of King's Landing to be blown a mile into the sky. And you, give me your knife,"

*

The throne room was empty aside from the king. Aerys was pacing up and down in front of the throne, muttering to himself, volume rising and falling with each sentence. He looked a fright, as he had done for years, lilac eyes snapping up and fixing on them as the three guards dragged Tya through the doors, forcing her to her knees at the king's feet.

As the men bowed and backed away, closing the doors behind them - they had their own orders, to find Rosshart and cut his stinking head off - Aerys looked down at her, smiling.

"I've longed for this sight for many years. The great Tya Lannister, kneeling before me, battered and broken,"

Tya forced herself to remain on the floor, forced herself not to snarl or even glare at that. Simply remain blank-faced and numb.

That became a whole lot harder when the king bent down and gently took her jaw in his hand, tilting her head up to look at her. She'd have rather he hit her.

"What did you do to earn that blow?" His thumb brushed over the bruise on her cheek in a sickeningly tender manner. "I must say, I prefer you in red than brown," She had not been given her own clothes to wear during her imprisonment, merely plain, roughspun servant's garb, and it rankled. Tya had never worn something so common in her life. "Though I always did like your hair loose," 

He stroked her hair, taking a lock of it in his hand, strands catching in his hideous nails, and she really had to fight not to cringe away or strike him. Then his grip tightened painfully, and his face abruptly changed from tender to furious, mad in the blink of an eye.

"Your treacherous brother betrayed me," He stood, voice raising with every word, hauling her up with him by her hair. Tya could not help but wince at that, especially given the wound on the back of her head. "Was that on your orders? Oh, how I laughed when I heard my son had thrown you in a cell! But instead of being humbled, realising your place, I wouldn't put it past you to plot treason whilst imprisoned,"

Still she said nothing. He tilted her head back with her hair, face merely inches from her own.

"I would kill you right now with my bare hands, you traitorous wretch!" He was practically screaming in her face now, before suddenly quieting again. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I sent for Rosshart. You know well enough what that means," He grinned, and it was horrifying. "Whilst this city burns, you and your army of traitors with it, I will rise again. Fire is in my blood, the blood of Old Valyria, the blood of kings and dragonriders. It is impossible for a Targaryen to die from fire. I rise from the flames - the mighty dragon, reborn," 

By the gods... His voice was feverish and his eyes were pits of madness. Not a single rational thought behind them. But Aerys' grip on her hair had slackened as he rambled on, staring off into the distance, distracted, waiting eagerly for the explosions of wildfire around the city. 

It was the last mistake he ever made. Tya drew the dagger from her sleeve and in one smooth motion had slid it between his ribs.

The king gasped, as though it had simply been something very cold, rather than sharp.

"What - " He slowly looked down, letting go of her entirely. It took a few moments for him to register the dagger sticking out of him, still attached to her hand. Then he looked back up at her, horrified, shocked, pained. "Tya,"

Without hesitation or sympathy, she twisted the blade. He gasped again, making a strangled choking sound. She held his stare the entire time. He had the gall to look betrayed, as she pulled out the dagger. 

The king staggered to his knees. With one heeled boot, Tya kicked him so he landed on his back, then stepped forward, looming over him, blocking the Iron Throne from his view and making sure that she was the only thing he could see.

There were many things she could say in that moment. How Rosshart was likely being butchered in the courtyard at that very moment. How Rhaegar was either dead, or captured and likely to die soon. How the Red Keep was being overrun with rebels. How the Iron Throne belonged to her grandson, and would be in her hands until the day she died. How she would ensure that the Mad King's legacy was one of insanity, cruelty and incompetence. 

Judging from the way the blood was flowing out of him, and his increasingly laboured breathing and panicked eyes, there wasn't time for that. Instead she simply said,

"I won, Aerys,"

Tya Lannister smiled as she looked down at the king. His eyes bulged in his last few moments, as Aerys Targaryen took in one last gasping, choking breath and died. 

Chapter Text

It was Jaime who found her first. Her son entered the throne room with two dozen Lannister soldiers at his back, along with the second Stark son, Eddard, with a company of his own men. 

Tya had stepped away from Aerys' lifeless corpse shortly after his death. Awaiting the outcome of the siege, she had sat down on the steps of the throne to clean the dagger on her already ruined skirts. That had been over an hour ago, and she pleased to finally have a source of information.

All of the men were bloody from battle, their armour dented and shields notched, but every one of them wore a look of victory on their faces. Which quickly twisted into surprise as they saw the body of the king lying crumpled at her feet.

She rose to greet them, stepping carelessly over Aerys, noticing two of the men who had taken her from her chambers were shouldering their way to the front. One of them managed to speak before any of the newcomers.

"It's done, milady," One held up the grisled head of Lord Rosshart, still dripping blood onto the floor. "The pyromancer is dead,"

"Have it stuck on a pike over the gatehouse," She told him. The head of their absent friend - the one who had manhandled and threatened her when escorting her to the throne room - would likely join it if she ever got her hands on him. No doubt why he had not returned with the other two. 

"Gotten a taste for murder, Mother?" Jaime asked with a grin as the men nodded and left at her dismissal, though her son's tone belied his curiosity. 

Perhaps it was a mark of the eventful day, but instead of snapping at him for the glib remark, Tya smiled a small smile in grim satisfaction. 

"Aerys and Rosshart planted caches of wildfire all over the city," She said, for Jaime's benefit as well as everyone else's. "We had discovered the plot and started to take steps to remove the caches we knew about, but the work was incomplete and there were undoubtedly some we did not know about. Aerys managed to escape from his chambers as the gates fell when everyone was distracted and ordered a guard to bring him the pyromancer. I had them both killed to stop the entire city going up in flames,"

An outbreak of shocked murmuring followed her words, and Eddard Stark's frown deepened. 

"Pardon me, my lady, but how long ago did you kill King Aerys?" One of Jaime's knights - a Crakehall, judging from his sigil - inquired.

"An hour or so," She replied, narrowing her eyes. "What does it matter?"

"There you go Lannister," The Crakehall nudged Jaime. "You're a Kingslayer, not a Princeslayer. Has a much better ring to it,"

"You killed Rhaegar?" Tya asked him sharply. That would be almost poetic.

"I struck a mortal blow," Jaime said, grimacing slightly. "He's not dead yet, but his stomach is burst and he will be soon,"

"Where is he?"

"I believe Uncle Kevan is having him wheeled up Aegon's Hill in a wagon as we speak. He assumed you'd want to speak with the prince, if he lasts long enough,"

Kevan had assumed right. Jaime moved closer to her so they could speak more privately, as the men dispersed slightly. His armour was as bloody as her dress.

"Father's alive and mostly uninjured," He told her, and she was gladdened for it, not having wanted to ask in front of everyone. "I don't think any of the family fell, though I think Gerion was hurt quite badly when his horse fell underneath him. Robert Baratheon died storming the gate, too - his men were the first through, of course. I think it was Selmy that did it. That's why Stark looks even more morose than normal. It's likely for the best, though - turns out Lord Rickard had not actually informed Robert that Lyanna was to marry me when she returned, not him," 

She agreed with that assessment. 

"And Rhaegar?"

"I saw him almost at the gate and went straight for him to stop them closing it," He shrugged, not seeming as thrilled as she would have expected to have done a deed that would see his name writteen down in history. "Cut through what seemed like two dozen soldiers, and Ser Jonothor of the Kingsguard. Rhaegar's good with a sword, but better with a lance. I fought him, and Dayne was right there beside us - he could easily have stepped in and finished me, but it seemed like he was deliberately engaging himself with other opponents. Then after Rhaegar fell - his guts were spilling out, he was obviously going to die - I was going to make it quick but Dayne stopped me. He wanted him taken alive,"

"He hasn't forgotten Ashara," She said, feeling a sense of grim justice. 

"Quite," Her son said with a bleak smile. 

There was a pause.

"I'm going to find Rhaegar," Tya told him. "You stay here to hold the throne room. Send men to fetch Cersei and Aegon from Maegor's Holdfast, too - I want that boy sat on the throne by the time the rest of them get here," 

Jaime nodded, seeming glad for something to do.

Kevan and his men had just escorted the wagon bearing the dying prince - king for now, she supposed, seeing as Aerys was dead and he was not - into the courtyard when Tya made it outside to meet them.

"My thanks, brother," She greeted Kevan first, taking his hands in her own in an uncharacteristic display of gratitude. "The battle went just as we hoped,"

He smiled wryly.

"I've been hearing whispers you finally did away with Aerys. I hope you savoured it,"

She couldn't help but smile faintly back. 

"The last thing he heard was my voice telling him that I won," 

He chuckled at that, as she glanced at the wagon behind him. 

"He won't last long, Tya," Kevan warned. "You'd best say your piece quick,"

Tya nodded, stepping up to the wagon to see Rhaegar lying there, dying. It was a gruesome set of injuries Jaime had given him, and his face was twisted in obvious agony, though his violet eyes narrowed at the sight of her.

"One day - " He gasped out, panting and gasping through bursts of pain. "One day you will... see that a - that you should have... listened. When the Others - rise again and... and the Wall comes... crashing down - you'll wish you heeded - my words," 

"You're as mad as your father," She replied with no sympathy at all. Even on his deathbed he was still talking about that cursed prophecy. "You should have listened, your Grace. I did warn you what would happen if you betrayed me,"

"You're one - to talk - of... betrayal,"

"This is justice," Tya corrected, voice cold. "For my daughter, for Aegon, for myself, and for Houses Stark, Baratheon and Dayne," Before he could speak, she continued. "I killed your father with this dagger. His body lies crumpled at the foot of the Iron Throne. So I suppose you die a king, at least," Even if it is for less than half a day. Her tone was disdainful, almost mocking. 

His face was full of loathing, regret and disappointment both, eyes closing for a moment. 

"I do not - wish to die with... you... looming over me,"

"Out of respect for your mother, I'll grant you that last request," She said. Rhaella had clearly been told what had happened, for she had burst into the courtyard and was running towards them, Prince Viserys hanging back with a scared expression on his face. "You listen to her weeping, and know that her grief is down to you. And if you have any love for her at all, do not mention that wretched prophecy,"

With that, Tya drew back and stepped away.

"Cover his wounds," She told one of the nearby soldiers. "Use a cloak, a sack, anything. Her Grace does not need to see that," 

She left Rhaella to grieve, to hold her son as he died. Her presence was not welcome there, nor did she wish to gloat any further. 

Aerys' end had been far more satisfying than Rhaegar's, she decided. A build up of madness and hatred and toxic, twisted friendship, culminating in a crashing downfall. The prince, on the other hand, had been promising since the day he was born. He was clever, sensible and noble, and would have made an excellent king had it not been for the madness of recent years, his single-minded obsession that had torn his house apart. 

Now he lay dying in a wagon in the courtyard of the Red Keep, as his mother sobbed over him and his little brother clenched his fists. Meanwhile, his son sat on the Iron Throne in the arms of Cersei, who appeared regal and proud despite being newly made a widow. 

Tya took her usual place at the base of the throne on the right hand side of the king, as the lords of Westeros assembled before them.

*

In the end, it was Rhaella who remained as Aegon's Regent, rather than the title passing to Cersei as the boy's mother. Tya's daughter was not happy about this at all, though (grudgingly) understood the reasoning behind it. Both Aerys and Rhaegar had been killed by Lannisters, and the plot to undermine their authority had been orchestrated by Tya as well. A Targaryen must be seen to be in control, else dangerous whispers would start to spread.

To placate her daughter, Tya would not arrange another marriage for her despite there being plenty of alliances to form; Cersei would remain in court with her son for the foreseeable future. Needless to say, this had been Jason's idea rather than Tya's, though she had to admit it did soften any resentment within the family that may have built up otherwise.

Tya remained in the position she had held since she was twenty years old, Hand of the King. Rhaella was learning to rule, and was more competent than Aerys had ever been, but it was a slow process and she was still a soft touch. Thankfully her Hand was anything but. 

They were faced with new difficulties now, first and foremost the fact that many lords were hardly pleased that the realm was being run by two women and an infant. Never mind that they had put up with a madman ruling for decades. Tya was forced to have the small council (all of them men, of course) present at most functions, to stave off many of the inevitable questioning and undermining of their decisions by making it appear that the council had more power than it actually did. 

She dealt with those men like she always had, however. They had been present all throughout her Handship, particularly in those first few years before she had proved herself, and had been waiting for another excuse to rear their ugly heads now. Whilst she could not afford to show any weakness or falter in any way, she did not fear any minor threat they posed. Those who mattered would soon realise that the realm was healing after Rhaegar's madness under Rhaella and Tya. 

A multitude of marriages and betrothals had been made between most of the great houses, to ensure a united front for the coming years. Elbert Arryn was husband to Elia Martell, whilst Doran Martell had wed Catelyn Tully. Lysa Tully was betrothed to Willas Tyrell, and the baby Tyrell daughter Margaery was betrothed to Viserys Targaryen. The infant King Aegon was promised to the future daughter of Stannis Baratheon, now lord, and his new Stormlands bride. Rohanne Lannister was due to wed Brandon Stark when she came of age, whilst Lyanna Stark was to marry Jaime Lannister in the coming year.

Seeing as their daughter was to marry him one day, Viserys would go to squire at Highgarden when he turned thirteen. It was too risky to send him there to foster any sooner. Not with Aegon so young, his rule still in the tentative early stages. 

Yes, it was best to keep Aerys' second son close for the time being. Tya had seen the hatred burning in that boy's eyes when he looked at her. Rhaella had informed her that Viserys was angry at everyone and everything these days. He had reportedly had a tantrum about Rhaegar shortly after his death, demanding why his once-idolised brother had to be so stupid and selfish and ruin everything, before bursting into tears. Tya was a very easy person to blame. 

Rohanne, Damon and Tyrion had all returned to court following Rhaegar's death. Rohanne spend a lot of time around the Starks; Brandon and Eddard had remained in King's Landing whilst their father led the Northern troops back to Winterfell, seeing as it was not safe for Lyanna to travel whilst so heavily pregnant. Tya's second daughter was good friends with Lyanna and Eddard, and her Brandon seemed to be amused by and interested in her at least. Though if he even looked at her the wrong way before they were married, Tya would have his head.

Brandon was clearly restless in King's Landing, and irritated that it had not been his own hand to strike down Rhaegar. Nonetheless, he was very protective of his sister and would certainly not leave her in what he charmingly described as 'a pit of vipers'. 

Eddard was much more calm and reasonable, despite his permanently grim expression, and Tya found herself wishing that he was the eldest son, not his brother. Brandon was charismatic and sharp, more intelligent than he looked, but he was reckless and angered easily. If anyone would be able to handle him, it was Rohanne, though Tya would not be the first mother to hope for a less ruthless man for her daughter.

Damon too was happy. He had started to squire for Ser Arthur Dayne, an arrangement that had come about because of Jaime, who was friends with the Kingsguard knight. The boy was a fair fighter, though not the prodigy his elder brother had been; he was like by Ser Arthur more for his noble ideals and kindness than his skill level.

Tya had resumed her lessons with Tyrion, during which he eagerly took in her every word. He truly was the most politically astute of all her children, even Cersei, though she would never mention that to her eldest daughter. Yet Tya found herself unable to refrain from giving Tyrion a small smile one day after he gave the exact answer she was looking for, and the grin that spread across the boy's face made her stomach clench.

And as for Jaime, he had returned to Casterly Rock with Kevan when the Westerlands army returned home. Before they left, Tya had asked her brother if he was angry at her son, for enabling his daughter's escape to Oldtown and leaving Jaime himself as the heir to Casterly Rock.

"Any other boy and I would want him sent to the Wall," He replied gruffly. "You as well, for I'd think you put him up to it. But I know Jaime, and I know my daughter. He did what he thought was right for her, without any thoughts of ambition in his head. It likely was best for her, too. Janei wouldn't have lasted long as Lady Lannister. Even the threat of marriage hanging over her was enough to sent her into disproportionate fits of panic... she's always been a delicate girl. No, Janei will be happy as a septa - I wrote to her, and she hopes to return home some day and serve future Lannister daughters. Besides, Jaime is as close to a son as I've had since Gerold,"

"He learned more from you and Jason than he ever did from me," Tya admitted. Her son's style of ruling would be far different to her own, she was sure, but at least he was competent in his own way and not running off to Essos to avoid any responsibility.  

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Kevan smiled, even as she glared at him. 

"Nor is it a good thing," She countered. 

"It won't be as hard for him as it was for us," Her brother said. "Jaime is a man, for one. Neither will he be directly following our father's rule of incompetence. The lords of the West respect us both, and they respect him too, seeing as he has fought alongside them and learned at my side for all these years. Why, he has already made a name for himself - Kingslayer. And for that reason, he will not have a mad king hindering him at every turn,"

Tya made a noise of agreement. She supposed he was right about that.

284AC

Lyanna's babe was born early that year. Jon Snow looked almost as different from his half-brother Aegon as it was possible to be. Dark haired and blue eyes that were fast fading to grey peered up at Tya from a longish face. Even as a baby, he looked Stark through and through. There was little trace of his father whatsoever, aside from how quiet he was. Aegon had been born loud and roaring. 

Tya would much rather the bastard boy did not exist at all, though arranging that would have started another war. The child could have at least had the decency to be born Jenny Snow instead, but at least he was not Rhaegar in miniature. 

Jon Snow left King's Landing a month after his birth in the arms of his mother, accompanied by Brandon and Eddard as they took a ship to White Harbour. Rhaegar's bastard son would return south soon enough, when Lyanna wed Jaime. At least they would be able to monitor him, growing up in Casterly Rock. She would give the Starks as little opportunity as possible to create another line of Blackfyres.

The boy's half-sisters would remain in the Red Keep, alongside Aegon. Visenya, Daena and Valaena would be a comfort to Rhaella at least, along with her own young daughter Daenerys, after Rhaegar's death. Tya had been expecting her friend to hold her at least partly responsible for the death of her eldest son - particularly considering who had been the one to strike the mortal blow - and although the queen likely did, she did not show any outward resentment towards Tya.

She had questioned Rhaella about this once, curious at how the woman could be so forgiving, knowing that she herself would stop at nothing to destroy all traces of anyone who had done to her family what she had done to the Targaryens. 

"There is no point in holding onto hate," The Queen Regent had said sadly. "You've been my friend since we were girls, Tya. You know my feelings about Aerys - the only resentment there is that I myself was too craven to stab him in the heart decades ago. As for Rhaegar - " She paused, blinking away tears. "He was about to tear the kingdoms apart. You warned him, and gave him a lot of chances to do the right thing. But my sweet boy was not himself in recent years. The Rhaegar I knew would never have been so reckless, so foolish or so cruel. I am glad Lady Lyanna is gone, for I could hardly stand to look her in the eye knowing that my son turned out to be far too much like his father after all,"

That was as good an explanation as any, she supposed, though Tya could still not understand it. Forgiven, not forgotten, was what she gleaned from Rhaella's words.

"Is forgiveness so foreign to you?" Jason asked her, amused; she had relayed the queen's words to her husband that evening. Her husband was lounging in one of the chairs by the fire in their bedchamber, whilst she stood at the window looking out over the city.

At the look on her face, he laughed.

"Forget I asked. I know you have not yet forgiven me for stealing your doll when you were five, or pushing you into the sea in Lannisport, let alone someone killing your firstborn son,"

"You cut the doll's hair to shreds with your eating knife, then cut yourself on it and got blood all over her dress," She had to smile faintly. "I certainly have not forgiven that,"

"Well you're a worse woman than I," He sighed in mock-disappointment. "I forgave you a long time ago for having my friend sent away, for breaking my finger and for tattling on me to your mother every other day. I suppose our wedding night made up for all that,"

"For you, perhaps," She said flatly, and Jason grinned. 

"So you would not even forgive your husband for a slight that occured nearly forty ago?"

"The fact you are my husband - someone I trust - makes the betrayal that much worse,"

"I'm glad to finally hear you can trust me, after all this time," He said, shaking his head. "I think you're going to have to settle for the fact that you will never understand Rhaella's remarkable tolerance of you. She's certainly not acting your friend and hiding daggers beneath her smiles, if that's what you're concerned about,"

The thought had crossed her mind.

"You're paranoid and ridiculous," Her husband told her. "Not everyone is you, Tya,"

"I know that," She narrowed her eyes, though returned to her seat beside him. Tya initially sat stiffly, but Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to lean against him, and she relaxed against him after a few seconds. "The very word paranoid reminds me of Aerys. Do not call me such again,"

"How about stubborn - am I allowed to call you that? Are cold, ruthless, and haughty permitted? Or proud, villainous, terminally ambitious, insufferable - "

"You may call me Lady Hand and bite your wagging tongue," She dug her elbow into his side, hearing his breath of laughter.

There was an easy silence.

"You've done so much, you know," Jason said, amusement in his tone fading into warmth. "Your methods might not have been the most savoury, but most lords wouldn't fit everything you've accomplished into three lifetimes. Murdered your way out of an unsavoury marriage. Restored your house's reputation. Wormed your way into the good graces of the king and queen, so much so that he would appoint you Hand for his entire reign, despite the fact he despised you for half of it. Very few people would have been able to manage Aerys and the realm at once, let alone deposed him, then orchestrated the downfall of his son when he displeased you. On top of all that, you lived to tell the tale. Your grandson is king, your son heir to Casterly Rock, your daughter the future Lady of Winterfell, and that's not even everything,"

He was right, but few people ever put it that way, let alone praised her for it. She looked up at her husband, meeting his green eyes. He had been at her side, unwavering, throughout all of the things she had described. Few men would put up with being in their wife's shadow at all, let alone to such a great extent, and even fewer would actually make themselves useful.

"I love you," The words came out without her thinking too much about it. 

Jason's eyes widened. The look on his face was worth the uncharacteristic honesty and emotion.

"I know," He replied, obviously very surprised, though a smile was creeping onto his face. "You didn't have to say it. Though I'm glad that you did,"

"Don't get used to it," 

"I wouldn't dare," There was another pause. "For what it's worth, Tya, my cold-hearted lioness, I love you too. Despite the fact you infuriate me beyond measure on a regular basis,"

"Evidently you don't like the sound of your own voice as much as I thought," She raised an eyebrow at him, disbelieving. "For you clearly cannot hear yourself. You - of all people - have the nerve to call me infuriating?"

"And I meant it," He laughed, then laughed harder at her glare. "We can both be right, you know. Though my version of infuriating is making stupid japes and knowing how to get under your skin, whilst yours is cutting off someone's hand when it would probably have been better to leave it attached. The same word can have multiple meanings,"

"You're making me wish I married Aerys," She glowered at Jason before looking away and shuffling tighter against him.

He laughed at that. 

"Gods, there's a nightmarish thought that will haunt me for days to come. You certainly wouldn't have waited twenty years to stab him if that was the case,"

They fell into an easy silence, Tya watching the flames of the fire die down, more relaxed than she had been in years. There were still struggles to be had, of course - running the Seven Kingdoms for her infant grandson was hardly a stress-free task - but there were no imminent wars, no direct threats, no dire emergencies. 

Likely that would all change in the future, be it the following day or ten years time. But for now, in one of those incredibly rare moments of peace, Tya Lannister let herself sink into her husband's arms in front of a fire and close her eyes.

Chapter Text

298AC

Daenerys Targaryen had never been the centre of attention in her family. Given how she was far less bold than the other children, she had often been told that she took after her mother. The Queen Regent was calm, clever and kind, all agreed, so she did not mind the comparison. But sometimes being meek little Dany grew a little wearing, especially living in the shadow of Aegon's charisma, Viserys' temper, Visenya's pride, Daena's charm and even Valaena's wicked tongue.

Her nephew Aegon - crowned king before he even turned one year old - took after his mother, Princess Cersei, in the sense that he could charm a room easily to have them eating out of her hand. Even aged fourteen, he had a silver tongue and an earnest way of listening and asking thoughtful questions that made people think he truly cared about what they were saying. He was charismatic, intelligent, and even in the training yard, where he was not naturally skilled, he was diligent enough to be a decent fighter, if not an extraordinary one. 

All of that would have made many boys insufferable, though to Dany at least, he was anything but. The young king had a good heart, much to the joy of his Targaryen grandmother and the annoyance of his Lannister one. Aegon was perhaps Dany's favourite, not that she would ever say so. She always had the best conversations with him; deep down, the two of them were rather similar, dreamers at heart. And her nephew was not so much of a force of nature as Viserys, Visenya, Daena and Valaena, often happy to step back from the limelight seeing as he was in it so often.

Force of nature was the right word to use. Though Visenya - Rhaegar's eldest child, the only one with the dark hair of Ashara Dayne - despised the Hand of the King, she certainly seemed to act like the woman a lot of the time. Proud, ambitious, sharp-tongued and often scathing, her demeanour was unconsciously similar to Lady Tya's, save perhaps for her hot temper. Dany suspected that deep-down she fancied herself as queen rather than Aegon as king, not that the girl would ever voice such a thing. She took after her namesake Queen Visenya at any rate; dark sister she certainly was.

Visenya's sister Daena was nowhere near so ambitious or haughty, though she was just as bold as her sister for other reasons. She was the most sociable person Dany had ever met, constantly surrounded by a stream of friends and admirers, and could talk for hours uninterrupted whilst somehow still remaining entertaining. She constantly had a smile on her face or a laugh at her lips, was always fun and never boring, and had an incredible knack for making the best of any situation. Admittedly she took very little seriously, falling behind in lessons and being hopeless at embroidery, but was such a joy to be around that most overlooked this.

Valaena was slightly more restrained than her elder sisters, though her sly smiles, wicked looks and cleverness made her just as formidable. She was irreverent of everyone and everything, always had a quip on the tip of her tongue, and her wit could run circles around anyone brave enough to try her. She liked to read, and could often be found in the library with Tyrion Lannister; her bookish side came out around the dwarf, and she dropped her sharp exterior to pester him with questions or argue about various scholarly topics.

And then there was Viserys. Dany's brother was seven years her elder. Old enough to remember when their father had been on the throne, old enough to remember how Lady Tya had worked with their brother Rhaegar to force him to abdictate, and old enough to remember how Rhaegar had almost torn the kingdoms apart for the sake of some foolish prophecy. Viserys had seen the bloody knife Tya Lannister had used to stab their father in the heart, and had seen their mother sobbing over Rhaegar's gruesome corpse, wheeled into the courtyard on a wagon as the city burned.

Viserys certainly held a lot of resentment, though to who exactly, Dany was not sure. Rhaegar, for turning out not to be the brother he idolised and ruining everything. Their mother, for standing by and crying instead of fighting against her eldest son's death. Lady Tya, for moving all the players around like they were pieces on a chessboard, and for being the one to kill their father. Aegon, for being crowned king as an infant, rather than Viserys himself.

Her brother likely just resented the world in general, which would certainly fit with his actions towards everyone, and his disagreeable temperament. Dany was often a target of his anger herself, as she was the most likely to just let him get away with it. Aegon would not rise to it, acting weary but reasonable. Visenya would shout right back at him, Daena would simply laugh, whilst Valaena would deliver some cutting but effective insult that infuriated him further. 

Lady Tya had caught her brother spitting venom at Daenerys once, Viserys roughly grabbing her by the arm and forcing her chin up to look at him. The Hand of the King had sharply told the boy to release her, and he had let go of her arm as though stung, but shot a nasty look at the woman as he did so. Lady Tya had narrowed her eyes and warned him to be careful, lest he act too much like their father, who had mistreated his sister too. Unspoken were the words, and everyone knows what happened to Aerys.

That was one of the reasons Dany did not resent the woman, not like Viserys did. She had never known Rhaegar or her father, after all, and both of their actions had been reprehensible, even her mother agreed. Not to say that she wasn't scared to death of the Lady Hand. Tya Lannister had been a looming presence over all of the Targaryen children's lives for as long as they could remember. 

Cersei was somewhat approachable at least, as Aegon's mother, and though she clearly favoured her son over the others, so long as they did not outshine him then she was relatively pleasant. Valaena idolised her no matter how the girl tried to hide it, and Cersei seemed only too happy to let her do so, seeming amused by her wit and cynicism.

The king's mother liked Daena too, and was positively warm to her, Valaena and Dany. Perhaps it was because she would never have daughters of her own and they were the next best thing. Cersei often clashed with Visenya, however, and had no real liking for the proud girl to whom she was similar to in many ways.

Lady Tya, on the other hand, could never be described as warm to any of them. Dany had spent her childhood shrinking away from the woman's cold stare and disapproving looks, terrified of drawing her attention in any way. Though her bold nieces would never admit to it, she knew they felt the same.

Not that the Hand had ever been cruel to them. She was just scary to most children, let alone royal ones who were likely to draw her attention. And her past concerning their family did not help matters. Visenya had used to scare the younger ones before court functions, telling them they'd better be on their best behaviour or else Lady Tya would kill them like she had Aerys and Rhaegar.

Dany knew that was ridiculous, of course, but the woman was intimidating to many lords, let alone four little girls. She marvelled at how Aegon pushed things with his grandmother, who always narrowed her eyes at his nerve talking back to her; she often glared at her husband on these occasions too, for he was usually grinning alongside his grandson. 

She had always marvelled at how such a warm and charming man as Lord Jason, Master of Laws, could stand being Tya's husband. Perhaps she turned into a different person in private, took off her icy mask and actually smiled. That seemed rather unlikely. Though Dany could certainly admit that despite her coldness, Lady Tya was rather impressive. Her achievements were inspiring - particularly considering she was a woman and should have ended up being nothing but a lady of some keep in the Westerlands - despite leaving a bloody trail across history. 

Part of Dany found the idea of being so involved in government appealing, though knew that she would never be Aegon's first choice as his Hand, when his grandmother finally stepped down or died (though Tya was not too old yet, aged fifty-five, her hair now gold and grey both but still harshly beautiful). Visenya had a much better chance than her, though Aegon would most likely give the position to his bastard brother.

Despite living on opposite sides of Westeros much of the time, King Aegon Targaryen and Jon Snow were as close as if they had grown up together. The other boy did not look Targaryen in the slightest, aside from his tall, almost graceful build that reportedly came from his father, and his often melancholic expression. Aside from that, he looked like his Stark mother through and through. A fact that both Lady Tya and Cersei were glad of. No doubt Jon's mother, the future Lady of Casterly Rock, was glad of it too.

Dany was never quite sure what to make of Jon. He was a rather quiet, sullen and brooding boy who often seemed irritated by those around him. Nothing like his charismatic half-brother or his mother's Lannister children, but nothing like Viserys either. 

It was Jon who had caused Dany to end up where she was now. Well, at least partly. He and Aegon had been reminiscing about various trouble that had got up to as young children, and Jon had mentioned a secret passage that led under the Red Keep. Dany wasn't in the habit of wandering off on her own to explore, but she had heard from her handmaid that Viserys was on a rampage looking for her, angry for whatever reason this time. Not wanting a confrontation, she had found the secret entrance that Jon had spoken of and slipped inside.

Now she was well and truly lost, and trying her best not to panic as her torch began to burn low. The passage turned into a maze of passages and tunnels and hidden staircases, a warren that ran all the way through the castle. At first she had been glad for the lack of cobwebs and other unpleasantness, but then she had realised that meant someone came through here regularly, and that thought was horrifying.

Even worse was that she thought she could hear voices somewhere ahead of her.

Dany rounded a corner and froze, too scared to make a sound, as she was faced with two robed and hooded figures. They did not hear her, but saw her still-burning torch, whirling around to face her.

"Who the fuck are you?" One of them snapped. She noted the large stack of barrels behind them, the long length of what looked like string wound in the other man's hands.

"Shit," The other sounded worried. "Look at her hair. She's a Targaryen,"

"Just our luck. What in the seven hells are you doing down here, your Grace?" The words were said with a sneer.

"I just got lost," Dany hated how scared her voice sounded, and tried to pull herself together, to sound commanding and imperious, like Visenya, or Lady Tya. "What are you doing sneaking around down under the keep?"

The two men eyed each other.

"None of your fucking business," One of them spat on the ground next to a full-looking bag, glancing at his friend. "What do we do with her?"

"Well we can't have her running off and telling," 

That was worrying, but Dany had seen the contents of the bag on the ground and anger rose in her.

"Those are dragon eggs!"

One of the strangers chuckled darkly.

"Our payment. I hate your family as much as our entire guild does, but I'm not risking my skin for free," 

"What guild? Payment from who? To do what?" Her blood ran cold.

"Shut your mouth," The man's companion hissed at him.

"It's not like we're letting her go anywhere," The other sounded defensive.

Dany stepped back, preparing to run, but they were too quick for her. She let out a small shriek as they grabbed her roughly by the arms, preventing her from escaping. She tried to use her torch to lash out, but the blow was stopped by one of the men. But the force of his grip on her arm meant that she fumbled the torch. It slipped from her fingers, falling to land upon one of the barrels.

Both men froze. Then with a cry, one of them lunged forward, a desperate attempt to snatch the torch away, but it was too late. 

An almighty boom, a flash of light, and for a few seconds - minutes, perhaps - Dany's world became nothing but chaos, confusion, dust and fierce, burning flame. She absently realised at some point what had been in the barrels. Everyone knew of her mad father's wildfire caches throughout the city. She had thought Lady Tya had overseen them all being safely destroyed. Apparently she had missed one.

As the dust began to clear, she realised she was sitting in a crater of rubble, fire burning all around her. There were fragments all around her; flesh, from where the intruders had been blown up, but also shards of a strange, jewel-like substance. The eggs.

Dany was simply entranced, too astonished to realise that she should have been blown to smithereens, yet there was not a single burn on her. All her hair was gone, her clothes as well, but she didn't care, even as shocked, panicked voices started to be heard from through the dust cloud. She watched the four small creatures crawl over her shoulders, her legs, into her lap. One black, one red, one green, one white. 

The first dragons in over a hundred years called out to each other, and the sound was more beautiful than any song she'd ever heard.