Chapter 27

The Gold Road – Jaime

Jaime was in a daze for the two weeks since he'd been reunited with his family. It wasn't merely that he'd abandoned the King, that he'd broken his vow as a Kingsguard; it was that what he'd been expecting to find when he'd finally made it to the Lannister camp was nothing like what he'd found.

It was the oddest thing to see a man that he'd known his entire life to be cold, hard, and remote, happy.

There was no other word for it.

Tywin Lannister was happy. And in love. And he wasn't shy about his feelings for his new wife.

It was more than apparent how high a place Lady Sansa occupied in the Great Lion's life. She was always his side, whether it was on the road to King's Landing, at the war councils Tywin held, or when they took their meals. There was rarely a time that Tywin let her out of his sight, and the woman seemed to adore the attention his father heaped upon her.

For his part, Jaime had no idea how he felt about it. About any of it. About Sansa and her love for his father. About his father and his love for Sansa. Or about the fact that they were pregnant and that he'd have a half-sibling before the year was out. It spun Jaime, and he'd taken the past few weeks to try to get his thoughts in order.

While it was apparent that his father loved him, and had mobilized his impressive army to march to King's Landing, what was even more clear was that any who sought to harm Sansa, Jaime included, would be dealt with swiftly and harshly.

What the fuck had happened for his father to be so protective of his wife? Jaime wondered.

His uncle and his father both alluded to something more … sinister when it came to his siblings' deaths, making Jaime's stomach ache. He loved his sister, but he also knew her hatred for Tyrion and her near obsession with being their father's heir. Jaime needed the truth but could admit that his father was right that now was not the time.

There was Catelyn Stark in their midst, along with Princess Elia. While Jaime might have won Elia's gratitude by getting her and Rhaenys out of King's Landing, he wasn't fool enough to think the woman was completely on their side.

Alliances, Jaime had learned, were fickle things, and the open road was no place to share secrets.

His white cloak, now impossibly soiled, weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was now a traitor. Did saving the lives of Elia and her child, along with the unborn one in her stomach, make up for what he had done?

He'd been so out of his mind with grief, needing the truth about what happened to Cersei, Tyrion, Addam and Gerion, that he could see no other way but to leave King's Landing.

But now? Now, what did that make him?

And where did he fit in this new Lannister family?

Somehow his father knew things – knew things that Jaime thought should be impossible to know.

His father believed in him and swore that the fight that was coming was not Jaime's alone. Since he'd been made Kingsguard, Jaime had been so lonely in the capital, away from all those he loved and he'd feared when he'd seen his father again, that somehow there would be an insurmountable chasm between them. Jaime wondered if he'd still had a use for his father. But now he knew - he did need his father and always would.

The belief that Tywin had in him was astonishing. Jaime had been in hell the past few years, but now, with his father's support, he was seeing what was possible. Tywin's actions had given Jaime hope.

His father trusted him when Jaime said the Mad King was working day and night with his pyromancers. That the Mad King was planning to light the city on fire. That innocent people were in danger.

That sheer confidence in him, his father's conviction that he had done the right thing, soothed the worst of the knots in Jaime's stomach. He knew others would not see his actions in such a way – but few would dare to go against the mighty Tywin Lannister. If Tywin decreed Jaime's actions to be worthy, few in the realm would argue.

As cold as Tywin had always been as a father, as a Lord, as the shield of Lannisport, as one of the great men of the seven kingdoms, his father had always awed Jaime. Jaime had no idea where his father's strength came from, knowing the burdens that had been heaped upon his shoulders when he was hardly any older than Jaime himself.

How had his father handled being named Hand of the King? Jaime wondered.

Tywin knowing what the King had planned, eased that burden off of Jaime's slim shoulders and placed it firmly back on Tywin's. And Jaime was brave enough to admit to the relief he felt that he was no longer alone in stopping Aerys the Mad. It was now his father's problem and Tywin took it in stride.

How did he do that? How did he not bow under such demands? What would break a man like Tywin Lannister? Jaime wondered, slightly in awe of the Great Lion. And not for the first time in his life. His father had always been larger than life, almost impossible to live up to.

What had been surprising, shocking really, even after he'd been told by his uncles, and witnessed it with his own eyes, was the place that Lady Sansa now occupied in Tywin Lannister's world.

Jaime had been prepared to be aloof and cold to her, sure that this woman wanted something from his father – gold, power, position.

Something.

After Aerys, Tywin was the most powerful man in the realm.

His sister had always insisted that the only people they could trust were each other. So Sansa, from a house not from the Westerlands, was immediately suspicious.

But two weeks of riding beside his father and his new wife, and Jaime had yet to see a calculating glint in her eyes when it came to Tywin Lannister.

The woman was madly in love with his father, which spun Jaime's head as much as anything. He hadn't thought it possible that someone could break through the barriers his father had erected around his heart after Lady Joanna's death. But it was true. His cold, logical, uncaring father was in love.

Sansa japed with his father, laughed with, smiled at him and confided in him. She spoke to Tywin about everything and anything and asked him endless questions. And Tywin indulged her, spending most of his days with her by his side. It was as if Tywin were afraid to trust anyone else with her safety. And it was evident that Tywin liked having Sansa near him.

And it wasn't just Tywin that adored her. Kevan, Tygett, and other lords of the Westerlands treated her with the respect and love her position demanded. She had won them all over.

To be fair, Jaime had seen others attempt to break down his father over the years – to reach Tywin when he'd been mired in his grief. But no one had ever been successful. Not the way Sansa was.

Even more shocking was how much Tywin now smirked, how much gentler he appeared, how much it was apparent to anyone that cared to look that the man was in love with his wife.

He doted on her! He fussed over her. He was so careful and gentle with her.

Had a sword been held to his neck, never in all his years would Jaime have ever thought his father would be a romantic man, willing to make small but meaningful gestures to see to someone else's happiness and comfort.

But Tywin did so with Sansa, regularly.

And it upended Jaime's world in a way that even being a guard to the Mad King had not.

For Tywin being miserable and cold, snappish and cutting had been what Jaime had known for most of his life. There had never been a chance to be close to his father.

Now his father asked how he was feeling, sought his council and regularly included him in the meetings he held with his brothers, loyal lords and Sansa to discuss their war strategy. It was as if Tywin valued Jaime's input.

Jaime had seen the army Tywin had gathered to take King's Landing, but he hadn't truly believed Tywin had been coming for him. Not at first.

But now? Now he was starting to believe it.

"That's a pensive look, Ser Jaime," Sansa said, having watched her husband ride ahead to speak with Kevan, drawing Jaime from his thoughts.

Jaime wanted to dislike Sansa. Even if just on principle. This was a woman that had done the impossible it seemed in making Tywin Lannister fall in love with her. She had taken his mother's place in his father's heart, and that alone made Jaime want to dislike her.

Surely there was some jape, some trick, some ulterior motive in this woman. Who fell in love with Tywin Lannister?

But Jaime found no falsity in Sansa in fifteen days. Only a woman who adored her husband and had made an effort to get to know him.

He shook his head. "I'm just thinking about the man my father has been my entire life, and the man I see now."

Sansa frowned and sighed.

"I'll not excuse his behaviour, for it should have been better. The three of you were children, and you needed your father. Especially after your mother's death. But, he was in deep grief, Jaime."

It was things like this that made Jaime stare at her in wonder.

Who spoke like that? And about Tywin Lannister? Did she not know what his father was capable of? What he was?

She must have seen a look on his face, for she smiled warmly at him.

"Jaime, I love your father. But I am well aware of what he is. The man might think himself infallible, but I assure you that is far from the truth."

At that, Jaime smiled, laughing a little. His uncles had shared with him one night when Sansa had gotten upset at Tywin for shutting her out and made him sleep on the daybed in their room. His father had been angry, but Sansa had held her ground, resulting in a miserable sleep for the Great Lion and an epic battle of wills between the two of them. It had been the talk of the Rock for days and won more people to Sansa's side.

"I love my father, Sansa," Jaime disclosed, almost shyly, happy they were a little ahead of the others, alone. "But the man I adore, who was my hero, he disappeared almost overnight when my mother died. And I waited for him to come back. For ten years, that man has been gone."

She gave him a sympathetic nod. "There are things we must discuss, Jaime. Things you need to know. Again, I make no excuses for your father's behaviour, but the burden placed on his shoulders at a young age, well, it hardened him, I believe. And when he lost Lady Joanna, it was so devastating to him. He loved her deeply."

Jaime nodded, perhaps not forgiving his father fully but attempting to understand. It helped that Sansa seemed to respect the love between his father and mother. She never seemed to be jealous of Joanna.

"Tell me about the lions?" Jaime asked suddenly, needing to discuss something different. Thoughts of his mother's death and his father's dismissal of his family were depressing.

Sansa's eyes lit as she described her vision and then going into the hills to rescue them. It was an incredible tale.

"I mean, it was rumoured that all Starks could warg, so I think that maybe that's why I was able to feel …"

Jaime frowned as Sansa stopped talking and paled, her words going like a lance through Jaime.

"What do you mean, all Starks can warg? What does that have to do with you?"

Almost frantically, Sansa searched for Tywin, looking around to the column of men marching to war. Tywin was nowhere to be seen.

Jaime reached out and grabbed the reins of her horse, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. There was something he did not know, something Sansa was keeping from him. And when Jaime did not know something, all he could sense was danger.

"Who are you?" he growled menacingly.

Suddenly this woman amid his family seemed like a threat. And she was so close to Tywin. How difficult would it be for her to do something to his father without anyone suspecting her? Poison or a well-placed dagger and she would cut the heart out of House Lannister if Tywin were to die.

"Lady Sansa?" Tygett asked, suddenly appearing beside them.

Tyg glanced between the reigns that Jaime now held so tightly in his hands his knuckles were white.

"Tygett, could you go and find Kevan and Tywin?" she asked, never taking her eyes off Jaime.

There wasn't fear there, not precisely. And if she were calling for his father, then it meant she wasn't afraid of what Tywin might learn.

Unless she really was an incredible actress.

Maybe she wasn't Hoster Tully's eldest daughter? Could she be related to the Starks somehow? Who was she? Had she really fooled his father this entire time?

All Jaime knew was that something was off with Sansa, and he was determined to discover what it was.

Within minutes Tywin, followed closely by Kevan, came thundering towards them. The look on his father's face, one of pure worry and concern, was Jaime's first sliver of doubt. Had this woman really lied her way into House Lannister? Had she really fooled the Great Lion?

Tywin saw that Jaime had the reigns of Sansa horse, the miserable look on his wife's face, and the mistrust radiating off of Jaime himself.

"Sansa, love, what is going on?" Tywin asked, eyes only for her.

Meanwhile, Kevan was glaring at him! Jaime tightened his grip. It was clear this woman had deluded more than one Lannister man. But not him. He would save his family from this charlatan!

"I messed up, Tywin," she said softly before the tears began to fall.

Now Jaime was really confused. Why was she crying?

"Jaime, let my wife's horse go," Tywin ordered, voice soft, but no less an order than if he had bellowed it out.

"But father, she's.."

"My wife. Let. Her. Go." There was no mistaking the command delivered with absolute authority.

For a moment, Jaime debated what might happen should he not? What if he disobeyed his father? What would Tywin do then? Who would he choose?

"Tywin, don't get mad at Jaime. I said something that I shouldn't have," Sansa cried softly, coming to his defence.

Jaime couldn't believe that Sansa was confessing to her crime! Right here, in front of his father. Tywin only nodded, but his gaze, now cold and deadly, rested back on Jaime.

"I will only say this once more. Let my wife's horse go, and we will talk, Jaime."

Knowing he was severely outmanned here, that his father had an entire loyal army at his back, Jaime finally did so.

"Tywin, perhaps we should find somewhere private," Kevan murmured as Tywin looked at Sansa.

She appeared utterly miserable and downtrodden, and Jaime felt the first slash of guilt. Was it because of him? What had he done?

His mind was so confused. For two weeks, he'd seen his father dote on his new wife, badgering her to rest, to take care of herself, almost hovering over her.

Jaime had also witnessed the passion between the two of them, coming upon Tywin kissing his wife more than once. They were not shy, not circumspect the way Jaime remembered his father being with his mother. There was absolutely no denying how much Tywin loved Sansa and how much she loved him. She was by his side at every meeting, during every war council.

But she had said that all Starks could warg! Jaime hadn't misheard her. She'd admitted to her mistake.

So who in seven hells was she? And what did his father know?

"The clearing ahead. Come!" Tywin ordered Jaime, his eyes flashing.

While his father might have mobilized an army to march down to King's Landing to free him, there was no denying what Tywin would do for Sansa. It was very apparent who Tywin would choose.

It was another ten minutes before the four of them arrived at the small clearing and dismounted. Before any of the Lannister men could say anything, Sansa did. She was in Tywin's arms, his father attempting to comfort his wife.

"It was about the lions and how I found them. My vision, Tywin. I mentioned that it was rumoured that all Starks could warg, and Jaime, brilliant man that he is, understood that significance."

Understanding dawned in both Tywin and Kevan's eyes, leaving Jaime even more confused.

What in seven hells was going on here? And why did he feel like he was the only one not in on the secret?

Sansa started to cry in earnest now, adding even more mystery to the entire circumstances, as Tywin held her.

"I'm so sorry," she told him, again, as Tywin tried to calm her.

She was openly sobbing now, and Jaime began to question himself. This did not seem like a woman that wanted to harm his father. Or his house. She seemed upset at herself and what had transpired between them.

"Perhaps it's for the best. Jaime is one of the best swordsmen in the seven, love."

"Second only to Ser Arthur," she responded, immediately agreeing with his father.

The way she said it as if it were just a fact she accepted, made Jaime straighten. She seemed to have such a high opinion of him even though he'd abandoned his post. What did she know about him?

"That's right. Jaime is excellent with a sword," Tywin agreed, the pride evident. It was one of the first times Jaime had ever heard his father speak like that about him and damn if it didn't make him stand straighter.

"But, Tywin, I thought you said it was dangerous for anyone else to know."

Tywin cupped her face and gazed at her, leaving an ache in Jaime's chest that he couldn't quite identify. Their love was so evident, so strong. And something Jaime wanted for himself one day. He'd had to give that dream up when he was named to the Kingsguard and there was an ache in his chest for what he would never have.

"I did. But this is my son. I trust him. Do you?"

Sansa nodded. "I do."

"My brave lioness."

It was things such as that endearment that spun Jaime, even now, when they were alone.

Together, they turned to him.

"Jaime, what we have to tell you will defy logic," Tywin began. "I know what we are about to tell you will seem …. unbelievable. But I implore you to have an open mind and listen to us."

What was his father talking about? Tywin Lannister was the most logical, rational and pragmatic person Jaime had ever known.

"Who is she? She's not Hoster Tully's daughter," Jaime stated, arms crossed, hand on the pommel of his sword.

He knew he was acting standoffish. Kevan and Tywin both looked almost proud at his statement.

What the fuck was going on?

Sansa smiled at him and shook her head.

"You're right, and you're wrong. In this time, everyone believes I am the eldest daughter of Hoster and Minisa Tully. But my real father is Ned Stark."

Jaime's brow furrowed. "What game do you play? You are older than Lord Stark by a year. There is no way you are his daughter."

Jaime hated being made a fool. He'd always been sensitive about his struggles when it came to his studies. He wasn't smart like that. Not like his siblings had been smart with their bookwork.

Sansa smiled warmly at him.

"It's not a game Jaime. I am the daughter of Ned Stark. Just not this Ned Stark. I am not from this time. I am Sansa Stark, from the year 2020."

Jaime's mind spun. Surely she had to be japing. Delusional. Mad.

He barked out a harsh laugh, but the other three just looked at him, steady and sure.

"What is this?" Jaime hissed, his hand on the pommel of his sword tightened. How could his father not see that he'd been played? That this mad woman had lied and manipulated her way into his life.

"Jaime, we know what it sounds like, but hear us out," Tywin said, as Jaime's mind raced.

He looked between all three of them. None of them appeared mad. Or delusional. Or even that emotional over what Sansa had just said.

This was his family! Surely they wouldn't lie to him. That was not the type of man his father was.

Slowly Jaime nodded.

"Fine. I'll listen. But this is madness. Surely the three of you can see that. What you speak of …." Jaime's voice trailed off as he shook his head. His father was not a man that japed. And not when they were on the brink of war. There was far too much at stake.

His father marched to war, and now his wife claimed to be from the future?

Tywin held Jaime's gaze and nodded, although he didn't let Sansa go, still holding her in the cradle of his arms.

"A year ago, I began to have visions of a woman, a woman not from this time. I thought I was going mad," Tywin said, as the entire story began to spill out.

Visions by both Tywin and Sansa, for months, coming at random, it seemed.

His father spoke of the information that he gleaned from these visions, how much Sansa, this woman that claimed to be from the future, admired and studied the historic Tywin Lannister. How her father had died, and she'd been left all alone.

And then the storm that had rocked both their worlds, bringing her back in time.

"He burst into my chambers, Jaime, almost frantic to get to her," Kevan said, still grinning at the memory.

By now, Jaime was pacing the little wood, wondering if this were possible. It sounded like a tale, a story someone would make up.

But there was an authenticity to how Sansa spoke and things that she knew. Things she knew about him, little clues and hints. It was clear he had no secrets from this woman.

By the time they stopped speaking, Jaime's mind was in a muddle.

His father was the most logical, pragmatic and rational person he knew.

So did that mean Jaime believed them?

There was no other explanation other than what Sansa and Tywin claimed – that she had, somehow, come from the future. A future where she had studied House Lannister extensively. A future where she knew things – things like what the Mad King had planned.

"Jaime, the things that Sansa knows – the danger she would be in if her origins were to become common knowledge," Tywin implored, stepping closer to him, finally leaving Sansa's side.

"You love her?"

Tywin nodded. "She has made me feel things, from the moment I saw her. From that first vision, I have felt alive in a way I hadn't in years."

Jaime spun away, shaking his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. He turned back to his father.

"How is this possible?" Jaime glanced at Sansa.

"I found your father's sigil ring in the ruins of the Rock."

"Ruins?"

Sansa nodded, looking pained, and Jaime somehow knew that things did not end well for his house. It was clear on Sansa's face.

"But we are trying to change things. Make things better," Sansa said, imploring him to believe her.

Suddenly needing to know, Jaime stalked up to her. He didn't even look at his father.

"Who stopped the Mad King?"

Jaime appreciated how Sansa held his gaze. She didn't defer to his father or ask for permission. Many things about her made more sense now – including how independent she was and how liberated she was.

She was nothing like other highborn women from this time, and it was intoxicating. It was clear she was intelligent and well-read. No wonder Tywin had fallen for her. It was as if she'd been tailor-made for a man like his father.

"You did, Jaime. You stopped him."

Her voice was strong and firm.

"How?" Jaime demanded a pit in his stomach but needing to know.

"You killed his pyromancers as he ordered them to light the caches of wildfire they'd placed below the city. He thought himself to be reborn as a dragon in the flames as the city burned, taking all of King's Landing with him. After you killed his pyromancers, you killed him."

Jaime nodded. He could see how he'd have broken his vow. He could understand why he'd killed a Mad King if it were to save innocent people.

"So, I saved the city."

Sansa nodded, and Jaime saw the tears in her eyes as she laid a hand on his arm.

"You did. You were a hero Jaime."

The tears in her eyes bellied his heroic actions.

"But others did not see me that way, did they?" he whispered.

"No," she said, voice pained.

"I imagine my father's army showed up, 'liberating' the city, and there were those that saw me as opportunistic instead of tortured with an impossible decision."

Jaime saw the truth in Sansa's eyes and then looked at his father – the truth was right there. He had sullied his reputation, broken his vow, killed his king – to save a city full of innocent people.

"But it will not be like that, Jaime. Not this time. You are no longer alone." His father's voice was absolute.

"What is one man's reputation when compared to half a million people?" Jaime asked, almost tortured. "I never should have left."

"No," Sansa said, voice firm, her grip on his arm tightening. She glanced at Tywin, who rested a hand on Jaime's shoulder.

"No, Jaime. I had nothing to do with coming back in time. Neither did your father. Forces are at work we know nothing about. Forces we could not control. You are here because things out of our control were set in motion."

"But the people," he said, shaking his head, genuine worry on his face.

Sansa had studied Jaime almost as much as she'd studied Tywin. She knew that his time as Kingsguard to both Aerys and Robert had left him jaded and feeling soiled. Jaime had such a romantic vision of what it meant to be a knight before he'd been chosen by Aerys to serve in his guard. And even though Robert, as King, had pardoned Jaime for his 'crime' of killing the King, the damage to Jaime's reputation had been done.

"Jaime, stop. We will find a way to do what we can to save them. But had you not saved Elia and her daughter, her life would surely be forfeit. The madness of the King does not rest solely on your shoulders. Collectively the lords of the realm have allowed House Targaryen to rule for years," Sansa stated, her voice broking no argument.

"He is the King. His actions are his and his alone. Not on you," Tywin finally spoke up, and Jaime watched in fascination as Sansa turned to face his father.

She did not back down to him, nor cow at his harsh tone. Instead, she almost grew bolder, Jaime now forgotten.

"He was a mad man, and you knew it, Tywin. More than any other. You knew what Aerys was capable of."

Tywin's nostrils flared as he faced Sansa.

"So you judge me for not starting a rebellion that surely would have resulted in the subjection of my people, the deaths of thousands that are my responsibility, and the destruction of the Westerlands? What was I to do, Sansa? The realm was not ready for rebellion, and you know that."

Fascinated, Jaime observed them. This, more than almost anything, convinced Jaime about the truth of Sansa's tale. He had never heard anyone speak to his father in such a manner.

Sansa gave a weary sigh.

"No. Gods, no. I do not blame you, Tywin. That's not what I meant, although it was poorly said."

She paused as if to gather her thoughts.

"Look, it's an academic debate, but one that has raged for years in my time. It is understandable when the Targs had dragons, why there were able to 'unite' the seven. But afterwards? It's been years since they have had dragons. Why allow them this power?"

Tywin's mouth tightened, and Jaime could see how upset his father was. He was shocked that Sansa would be so bold as to call his father out like this.

"While you may be brilliant and know all our futures, you are not of this time, Sansa. There are things you do not yet understand," Tywin all but spat.

She nodded. "Perhaps. But it doesn't eliminate the fact that many people have the same questions I do. Why let Aerys rule?"

"There was a contract in place. Our ancestors swore vows. Those mean something, Sansa to people of this time. Maybe they don't in yours, but now? They do."

Jaime was impressed that she stepped towards Tywin, slightly in awe of her.

How was she not fearful of him? His father was a scary man when his ire was up. And it was clear that Tywin was angry.

"And your vow? When did the King violate his oath to protect those sworn to him?" she asked softly and saw his father pale and spin from her.

Jaime glanced at Sansa, saw her wrap her arms around her midsection as if it pained her to bring up such topics. He knew she was speaking of the attack and rape of his mother.

"I was in no position to hold the king to account," came Tywin's ragged voice. "Not after what he took from me."

Sansa was in front of him, tugging at his hands, forcing him to look at her. In his entire life, Jaime could never remember his father allowing anyone such latitude to question him in such a way, to call him out on his choices. And then to offer him comfort. He felt as if his entire opinion of his father was being reborn before his very eyes.

When Tywin was Hand he was arguably even more powerful than the King. He single-handily won back the Westerlands, brought stability to the realm and was a brilliant administrator. He was the richest man in the realm and commanded a massive army. He was feared by most.

And yet there was no fear on Sansa's face.

If anything, Tywin looked devastated. Jaime could never recall his father appearing so, and for the first time in his life, Jaime understood just how much his mother's death had destroyed his father.

Now Sansa was all but pressed up against his father, his face in her hands.

"Tywin, this is not just on you. All of the lords of the realm allowed the King to become what he is. Everyone from Dorne, to the Wall, from the Stormlands to the Riverlands. I am not blaming you – no more than I blame all of them. Rebellion means war, which means death, which means a new system in place. Something has to replace the old. And you might not have had the support, had you tried this years ago. I understand that."

Tywin gave a slight nod, and Sansa pressed on.

"And you're right. While I have the luxury of knowing what happens, you did not. Forgive me, my love, for insinuating you were ever craven. I merely meant that the madness of the King does not rest solely on Jaime's shoulders but is a collective responsibility of the entire realm."

Tywin's forehead dropped to Sansa's as he inhaled deeply, while Sansa's words penetrated the fog of Jaime's brain. He had never heard someone speak to his father in such a way, nor defend him and the Lannisters so passionately. Any doubts he might have had about Sansa vanished. This woman was incredible.

"Sansa, I knew what Aerys was. I knew what he was, and I stayed in the West, at the Rock," Tywin choked out.

"Hush. Enough of this. He is not the first Mad King, nor would he be the last mad ruler of his House. There is something wrong with their House, my love. Something rotten. It goes far beyond your power to stop him. You are not a god, Tywin. We will do what we can to the best of our abilities. And if we get the chance, we will be better – we will rule better. We will create better lives for those that were are King and Queen of. I have so many reforms, my lion, so many things that might make life better for so many."

"I have done horrible things for my house, Sansa. You have to know that."

She nodded, her face determined.

"Tywin, look at me." His eyes locked onto Sansa's, as Jaime was unable to look away from them. "I know."

His father shuddered.

"Tywin, I KNOW what you have done – and I know what you would do. I know all your secrets and all your worst choices. I know. And I love you. I love you, my lion. I am here. And we will be better. House Lannister will be better. House Lannister will rise, and we will create a legacy that will last for generations. Family, Tywin. It is the family name that will live on."

Jaime turned to Kevan to give his father a private moment, the reality of what Sansa was, what she knew, what she was, crashing through him.

"Seven hells, if anyone else were to know about her," Jaime said, shaking his head. The power she had. The asset she was.

As unbelievable as it was to think that this woman was from the future, there was something undeniable about her story. That and how much his father loved her. They made sense now, in a way they previously hadn't. It was as if this woman had been brought back specifically for his father.

Kevan nodded. "It is unbelievable. I still find myself in awe of her, of them. They love each other deeply Jaime."

"We must protect her," Jaime stated suddenly. Kevan nodded.

"She is in danger all the time. Should anyone else know when she comes from, she would be kidnapped and tortured. Your father is paranoid about her safety Jaime, and not just because of the incredible advantage she gives our House. It was as if the gods themselves made this happen. Neither of them knows why the visions started nor why Sansa was brought back in time. But if we do not protect her, if we do not listen to her, then …"

Kevan trailed off, that thought too horrible to state out loud.

"Do you know how you die?" Jaime asked softly, and Kevan grunted and nodded.

"And my father? Does he know?"

Kevan nodded again. "He does. We both do."

"And me?"

"It will not happen," Tywin declared, rejoining then, Sansa tucked against his side.

Jaime didn't miss how his father refused to answer that query. Jaime had so many questions, not only for Sansa but for his father. But they could wait. For now, they had their task – save the people of King's Landing and dispose of a Mad King.

"I am sorry we did not tell you when Sansa came from. It was not that we didn't trust you; it was just that, well, who would believe us?"

Jaime smiled softly at Sansa, who still looked a bit uncertain.

"I apologize, Lady Sansa, for scaring you earlier. That was not my intention – only to protect my house."

"I know. And we did want to tell you. We were planning it. There just isn't a lot of privacy in the camp."

"That's fair. And I suppose there are things that you haven't shared," Jaime said, utterly intrigued by the idea of what she knew.

The power that now rested in the hands of House Lannister, with the knowledge that Sansa had. And the wildest part was that his father wasn't just using her. He loved her!

Sansa grimaced. "You're right. Many things have altered, while other events won't happen based on what we've already changed."

Suddenly, as if knowing how monumental this moment was, Jaime bowed his head and dropped to his knee.

"Lady Sansa, I know I have broken my vow to my King. But here and now, I swear, in the wars to come, I will protect you with my sword, to the best of my ability and my dying breath. If my life should be forfeit to save yours, then that is a sacrifice I willingly make," Jaime said, the words flowing effortlessly from his mouth and his heart.

"Jaime, you brave man," Sansa said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Rise, Ser Jaime, for I know that you would do so, with or without the words spoken. We are family, and we are lions!" she declared, and Jaime knew why his father loved her so very much.

Sansa embraced him then, and Jaime thought that perhaps they did have a chance to change the fortunes of their House; together.

When he looked at his father, there was satisfaction stamped across the Great Lion's face. His father pulled him in for a quick embrace, then cupped his face.

"My son, my pride, we will ride to King's Landing together. I know you will protect Lady Sansa. You are the future of our house, Jaime, and I vow to do better by you."

Jaime could only nod. Within minutes, they were back on their mounts and rejoined the Lannister army, determined to rescue those in the capital from the Mad King, and see House Lannister rise to take its place among the truly great Houses of the seven kingdoms.

The Lions' Gate, Outside King's Landing – Sansa

It took another gruelling two weeks of hard riding before the Red Keep's familiar spires were visible, the capital less than half a day's ride away.

The Gold Road ended at the Lion's Gate; one of the main gates into the city and one that was heavily fortified and guarded.

Tywin had camped them far enough away from the city, on a defendable rise where they could see any army that might come for them, but they both knew that would be unlikely. There was no one left for Aerys to send. Anyone left in his service would be deployed to keep the city walls from being breached.

The area around the capital was empty, anyone who lived nearby having been allowed entrance to the city, promised safety due to the rebellion that raged. It reminded Sansa of when Cersei had done the same, anticipating Daenerys and her army arriving for a showdown. And everyone in Sansa's time knew how that had ended – with the deaths of thousands upon thousands of innocent people. The sick feeling of history repeating itself weighed heavily in Sansa's stomach.

For the past month, since Jaime had arrived safely back in their camp, Sansa had been running various scenarios through her mind, hating in some ways how many things they'd changed. It made her unsure of possible outcomes.

What if Rhaegar did the impossible and won at the Trident?

What if Dorne had lied and weren't going to liberate Storm's End?

What if they couldn't stop the Mad King from lighting the capital on fire?

It was hard not to feel the immense burden that pressed down upon their shoulders, and she knew that Tywin felt it as well. The four of them, including Kevan and Jaime, felt a collective responsibility since they knew what the King was planning.

They had briefly discussed various ways into the city, but if Lord Varys still believed in Aerys, there was no way any of the secret passageways would be accessible. Varys and his network of spies would ensure they wouldn't get ten steps into the city – let alone far enough to take out the city watch that was operating the gates.

There was no love in the Spider for Tywin Lannister, so even a raven to the eunuch would likely result in silence. And worse might tip Aerys off of their impending arrival.

Fifteen years from now, Sansa knew that some of the gates would be in further disrepair, that there would be weak spots they might take advantage of. Jaime had made it his mission when he'd been Robert's Kingsguard to learn each of the gates into the city, but that didn't help them now.

With men like Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne part of the Kingsguard, the city was as fortified as it had ever been. The only one who was vulnerable was Aerys himself, and there was almost no way to get to him.

Tywin reassured them when the time was right, Pycelle was loyal to him and would open the Lion's Gate for them to enter – but there was an entire city between the outer gates of King's Landing and the Red Keep where Aerys had holed up.

When Sansa wasn't worried about how to save the population of King's Landing, she was trying to work out the issue of Jaime and his Kingsguard vow.

Those vows were for life.

Yes, a King could strip of Kingsguard of their white cloak, thus freeing them of their duty. But it was rarely done and seen to be quite dishonourable. King Joffrey had done it to Ser Barristan, at Cersei's insistence, and then Tommen did so with Jaime. It was possible that they could do that, but it would most likely alienate Jaime and further damage his reputation.

Already Tywin confessed he worried what others might think, with Jaime choosing to rescue Elia over staying by Aerys side. The princess had sworn she'd testify in Jaime's defence if it came down to that. But reputations were a fragile thing – easy to ruin and hard to repair.

Jaime was already reeling from breaking his vow and 'rescuing' Elia, that to further humiliate him by stripping him of the white cloak might drive him further from them. And that was the last thing that Tywin wanted.

So for hour upon hour, as they'd thundered down the Gold Road, Sansa had wracked her brain for an option – any option to get Jaime out from that burdensome white cloak with his honour still intact.

Even now, camped and settled, she paced in her tent as she thought of some way around this issue until it finally hit her.

It was so simple. So elegant. So perfect. And so insane that Tywin would most likely laugh at her and then dismiss the idea outright.

Still, it was worth discussing with him, for if he agreed, it would change everything for all of them.

That night, after she'd bathed and dressed in a sleep gown, she awaited Tywin's return to their tent. Nausea from the pregnancy had become less, and she swore there was a slight swell to her stomach.

She guessed she was entering her second trimester, and from what she remembered, this was often when morning sickness abated for most women. She would welcome that! This past month had been hellish, and while she was excited to be pregnant, she couldn't say she'd enjoyed the near-constant sickness she'd felt.

She had just plated their food when the tent flapped, and Tywin entered. This close to the capital, and her lion wore his armour daily. She understood it, for the danger never seem more palpable than it did right now, and if possible, the man was even more on guard than she'd ever seen him. In modern terms, Sansa would term it "hyper-vigilance."

Little Rhaenys, who hadn't abated in her love of Tygett, meant that Tywin's brother spent many a night pacing outside Elia's tent, keeping a watchful eye over them. The woman's stomach was huge, and Sansa knew that the baby could come at any moment.

Word had also come that the battle at the Trident was set to commence any day and that Oberyn and his army had arrived at Storm's End. It seemed everything they'd set in motion, everything that needed to happen was going to in the next few days.

The fate of the seven kingdoms would be decided in the next few weeks, and Sansa knew that everyone expected Tywin to take the Throne.

It made sense.

While not well-liked by many, almost feared by others, the man was the best administrator the realm had seen in years. With his gold backing the Throne bid, the Crown would not be in debt to any foreign lenders. There was stability with Tywin, especially now that he was remarried and his wife from an established Great House outside the Westerlands, with ties to the North and the Vale.

He was the best choice facing the realm, although some might object.

Dorne might balk, with Elia pregnant with a son. Sansa had shared that news with Tywin. Dorne might want to see Aegon as the next King and want to take over ruling until he came of age. But Dorne had very little power when it came to securing the future of Westeros. They'd stayed out of the war for too long.

Similarly, the Reach and the Crownlands were on thin ice, having firmly back the dragons in this war.

That was another issue facing them. What to do with the losing sides?

When the rebels won, what was to be done with those regions? Would it be enough to make Elia's young son the Lord paramount of the Crownlands? To give him his ancestral seat at Dragonstone? To help create another region, loyal to them?

The alliance that Tywin had secured at Riverrun, before their marriage, had five of the seven kingdoms, and all of them backing him. There was no way that Sansa or Tywin was willing to let anyone with even a drop of Targaryen blood near the Iron Throne for the foreseeable future. And that included Elia's yet-to-be-born son.

But even if Tywin were to take the Throne, were to be named King, how did they extricate Jaime from the white cloak?

There would be those, namely Dorne and perhaps even the North, and the Stormlands that would demand that Jaime serve out his sentence as a Kingsguard. And make no mistake. Sansa saw it as a sentence, a punishment and not an honour. Not for a son that was heir to a great region. Should their alliance insist that they keep the Kingsguard, Sansa would demand that no firstborn son could be named to such a position.

Her idea was daring and risky and had the potential to save more than just Jaime – it had the potential to remake all the regions of Westeros. It would change the course of history as she knew it.

"Sansa," Tywin said, nodding to his steward who set about to help him with his armour.

"Tywin," she purred back. Since the nausea had abated, the fierceness with which she wanted Tywin had come roaring back. Even now, on the brink of war, she wanted her husband.

Sansa watched, still fascinated by this aspect of ancient life, until finally free of his armour, Tywin bathed quickly and joined her at the table for their supper.

He bit into some bread, followed by cold chicken and cheese and chased it all down with a long gulp of wine. As he was clearly starved, this continued, until finally full, he leaned back in his chair, his green-gold eyes on her.

"So, tell me what is on your brilliant mind, wife."

"What makes you think I have something on my mind?"

Sansa tried to be coquettish, batting her eyelashes and looking demure, but Tywin snorted.

"Please, woman. Your brain never quits. I'm surprised you don't wake me up in the middle of the night when another idea strikes your fancy."

Sansa grinned, not finding his tone off-putting in the least. She knew Tywin valued her intelligence.

"Other than the rebellion, the issue of Robert, and the Mad King, what is our biggest challenge right now?" she asked, turning serious.

"How to free my son from that ridiculous white cloak without ruining his reputation for good. He is my heir; the next Lannister to inherit Casterly Rock."

Sansa reached for Tywin's hand and squeezed it. "He is. And you're right."

Tywin's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. He had expressed how amazed she was that she wasn't more concerned with what their children might inherit, but in her mind, it was a no-brainer that the Rock would be Jaime's one day. Jaime was Tywin's heir.

"What are you thinking, Sansa?"

She bit her lip, suddenly unsure. What she was proposing went against everything that Tywin had worked for.

"Just hear me out before you react," she prefaced, watching as Tywin bit back the question on the tip of his tongue and instead gave a curt nod, neither one of them noticing the movement of the curtain and someone else slipping inside. Someone whose very future they were discussing.

"What would you do to get your son back? To get Jaime back? For Jaime to have his freedom for good? To be able to join us at the Rock and learn how to become your successor? To have time with him again?"

Tywin's eyes bore into hers as his hand tightened in hers.

"Anything, my love. You know this. We've spoken of it. I would do anything for my son."

She nodded. "We have spoken of it, and you're right. I just needed to hear you say it again. I believe that Jaime needs to be with us, as well."

"But it is impossible. When I take the Throne, I could release him from his vows, but many will see that as self-serving and indulgent. His reputation would be in tatters. What highborn woman would want him?" Tywin's voice was pained. This was a sore subject for her lion.

Sansa smiled and leaned forward to stroke his handsome face.

"It would be. Perhaps the damage could be overcome, but would Jaime ever forgive you? Or would it drive a deep wedge between the two of you, one that was insurmountable?"

Tywin chuffed out a breath and then spoke. "Sansa, no more games. Tell me what is going on in that brilliant mind of yours."

"It is simple. If there are no more seven kingdoms, no more Iron Throne, then there is no more Kingsguard."

The air between them seemed charged as Tywin's grip on her hands tightened. His eyes had gone wide.

"Are you telling me you want to break the kingdom apart? Give up being Queen? For Jaime? For me?"

Sansa shrugged, though there was nothing lighthearted in the gesture.

"Tywin, all I ever want is for you to be happy and whole and by my side. I want peace, yes, but I want it at the Rock. I don't want to live in King's Landing. Trust me when I tell you that the seven kingdoms are almost impossible to hold together. It may be possible, with my knowledge of the future, and your gold and reputation, but it would be a never-ending battle. Our entire lives would be dedicated to holding together something that wants to be broken apart."

Tywin looked gobsmacked as he sat back in his chair, contemplating her words.

"The Targaryens created the seven, only three hundred years ago. My love, you are descended from the Kings of the Westerlands. Tell me that you want to rule over a city you hate, settling petty battles between houses and regions you dislike, from now until the day you die. Tell me that you want to be King of the seven, and I'll forget what I ever said."

His eyes narrowed. "But?"

She smiled and kissed him as he tugged her onto her lap.

"But, can you honestly say you want all of that over your beloved Rock? Over Jaime, happy and whole and with you in your ancestral home? I can see our family there, Tywin. Our children and their children. I can see us bringing change to the Westerlands, and being happy, there. With Jaime, safe and free, our lions by our side. We have our alliances Tywin. Give the seven back. Take what is ours, but only what is ours."

His forehead rested against hers as his breathing quickened.

"You humble me, with your love of our house, of the Rock, and our family."

"You are my soulmate. I came through time for you, and I have to believe it was to make things better. The seven was an experiment that hasn't worked. Dorne calls themselves Princes, and Ned Stark has the blood of the First Men in his veins. Jon Arryn can rule the Vale, and Stannis the Stormlands. The Reach and the Crownlands will have to be dealt with. But it can be done, Tywin. We can craft our own future – we can change things. We can build a legacy for our children – for Jaime's children."

His lips were on hers again, as Sansa mindlessly gave herself over to the kiss. When they finally came up for air, she saw the answer in Tywin's eyes before he even could voice it.

"I have to take the Throne – if only to have the power to tear it all apart."

Almost gleeful, Sansa was just about to let out a small cheer when Jaime burst into the room.

"Are you both mad? You would give up the Throne for me? You cannot do this!"

Sansa and Tywin turned as one to see an outraged Jaime standing in the middle of their living space.

"Umm, Jaime, how much did you hear?" Sansa asked as Tywin's son began to pace as she extricated herself from Tywin's lap. He seemed almost distraught by their plan, which wasn't how Sansa thought he'd take this.

"Enough! Enough to know that you can't possibly think of doing this."

Tywin rose and stood in Jaime's way, just as his son turned back to make another pass.

"Jaime, stop," Tywin said, voice full of authority and command.

It sent a shiver of lust, love and desire straight through Sansa. In her mind, Tywin would be an excellent King for the seven – especially with her by his side to temper his more ruthless impulses. But she also believed that the seven as a stable political structure really didn't work.

"Father, no! We are so close to stopping all of this. I've heard what the seven were like when you were Hand. Now you're speaking about tearing it apart? And for what? This cloak is my burden to bear!"

They were standing so close, father and son, both of them barely holding on. Sansa saw the awe in Jaime's eyes that Tywin would even consider such a thing – for him. And she saw the conviction in Tywin's face. She'd convinced him to think about this course of action.

She rose and went to stand between the two of them, placing a hand on Tywin's chest while turning to Jaime.

"Jaime, stop," she said, firm but gentle. "This is the first time I've mentioned this …. idea to your father. We do not know what is going to happen in the days to come. We do not know if this is even a possibility. There are a thousand questions, things that could go wrong, any number of actions that might mean none of this comes to pass. It was simply an idea."

Jaime's green eyes flashed in understanding.

"The seven really doesn't work?" he asked.

She knew that Tywin's son prided himself on upholding the ideals of knighthood and honour. And so much of that had been challenged by what he'd been subject to in King's Landing, under Targ rule. The foundation was rotten – the resentments decades and centuries old.

"Jaime, the seven was a construct forced upon Westeros by invaders from Valyria with the ultimate weapon – dragons. The dragons are gone. Why do we fight to keep it together?" she asked softly, watching as his mind spun.

He shook his head as if to clear it.

"I'm not good at this – at politics. Ask my father. I struggled with my reading, my numbers. I am better with a sword, Sansa. I am a weapon, a shield, meant to guard great men like my father. Nor participate in such conversations."

Sansa bit her lip, wanting to tell Jaime she was sure what he suffered from was dyslexia. It didn't mean he was inferior when it came to intelligence – just that he struggled to make sense of words. But now was not the time.

"Jaime, do you want to keep your white cloak?" Sansa asked softly as he turned away and flung himself into the chair she'd vacated.

For a moment, the silence stretched, until Jaime spoke, making Sansa want to weep for him.

"I thought he'd chosen me because I was special – that he saw something in me that made me … different from others. But it wasn't long until I realized I was chosen as a punishment."

Tywin let out an impatient growl, and Sansa shot him a look. Jaime was lost in his own word.

"Don't get me wrong. I am excellent with a sword. And I would do my duty, of that Aerys had no doubts. It was as if he knew how much value I placed on my vows and the ideal of knighthood. What it meant," Jaime explained, a bitter laugh following his words. His tortured eyes met hers and Tywin's.

"Do you know what it is like to 'guard' a man as he hurts his wife? To hear her scream and do nothing to stop such an atrocity from happening?"

Sansa felt her stomach heave, and she knew she was going to be sick. She rushed to the chamber pot and emptied her dinner, feeling Tywin rubbing her back. When she finally felt slightly better, she leaned into him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unaware of the tears that were streaming down her face.

She looked at her husband, who appeared equally horrified.

"This cannot go on. We need to tear this all down, Tywin. We need to tear it down, so there is no chance of anyone rebuilding it. We know they have houses loyal to them – but if there is no more Iron Throne, no more seven kingdoms, there is nothing to rally behind. We re-establish the kings of each region. And those regions will never willingly go back to a united seven."

"We will, my love. We will."

Jaime was hovering; worry etched on his face. He looked down at her, in Tywin's arms, and nodded.

"For years, all I've ever heard my father say was that it was the family name that lived on. That it was all that lived on. I thought that meant," Jaime paused, shook his head. "I didn't know what that meant. But I think I understand. I will be by your side, father."

"Thank you, Jaime," was all Tywin said as his son finally turned to leave and give them some privacy.

When they were alone, Sansa felt Tywin shudder and knew he felt like she did.

Somehow, someway, they would destroy what the Targs build. They would create a new world from the ashes of the old. And they would do so, together.

Prince Oberyn Arrives – Tywin

His army was the first to arrive at King's Landing, much like how it had happened in the history that Sansa knew. Only this time, instead of pressing inside the city walls, Tywin marshalled his men outside the Lion's Gate to wait for the others.

His mind, his brilliant, logical mind, was racing with the choice that Sansa had laid before him.

He knew it wouldn't take much to sit on the Iron Throne – to take the seven for himself, to become King. He'd ruled in all but name for years as Hand to Aerys, a brilliant administrator who had done much good for the Kingdom. Tywin knew he represented stability and prosperity.

He knew with his gold stores, the seven would not be in danger from foreign lenders, like the Iron Bank. He knew he was feared – and that the fear alone would keep some conflicts at bay.

And yet he could not escape the fact that if he were to take the Throne he'd be no better, no different than the dragons before him.

And suddenly, it seemed vitally important to him to be nothing like Aerys.

Jaime's trauma was deep – more profound than Tywin had initially believed. Sansa had tried to warn him, but he hadn't fully grasped what his son had been through while in the capital.

By the same vein, there was no part of Tywin that liked the capital. In fact, he outright despised it. It was dirty and ugly and filled with liars and backstabbers. It was nothing like his beloved Rock. Blackwater Bay did not shimmer and shine the way the Sunset Sea did. And Tywin knew if they were to stay, if they were to claim the Iron Throne, there would be those that would stop at nothing to see him removed and a Targ put back on it. They would never have a moment's peace.

And there was no way to prevent the fact that even if Aerys and Rhaegar died, there were others with their blood.

Sansa and Elia had become friends. There was no way anything could happen to her children that Sansa would forgive him for.

There was another – a child in Dorne, somewhere.

And there was still Aerys other son, Viserys, and soon-to-be-born daughter.

There were too many dragons to have them all killed, and quite frankly, Tywin knew if he were to do so, he would lose his wife. It was not a price he was willing to pay, nor was he sure he had the stomach for it any longer.

But if there was nothing to rally around – nothing to come back for, then the loyal Targ supporters could plot until their beards grew grey, but all they'd be doing was grasping at air.

The son in Elia's stomach would get Dragonstone and a fair chunk of the Crownlands. He could become a king of his house, and one of several now in Westeros. Dorne could hardly balk at such an honour – not when they had sat idly on their hands, watching the rebellion rip Westeros apart at the seams. Further, Tywin knew that Elia owed them a great debt – and she would not betray them by insisting her son take the Throne. There was no way Dorne could win against five aligned kingdoms, so they would take what victory they were given.

Two weeks later, when word came that the flags of both Stag and the Sunburst were spotted outside the King's Gate, emerging from the Kingswood, Tywin knew that their plan had a chance. The Tyrell and Redwyn armies had to have been defeated.

Three days later, an envoy, including Stannis Baratheon and Oberyn Martell, approached the Lannister camp. The man was in his early thirties and flashy in a way that even Lannister's were not.

The Prince's face was tight, his dark eyes darting around the camp, as Tywin, Sansa, Kevan, Tygett, Jaime, Catelyn and a host of lords from the Westerlands aligned themselves to greet them.

"Lord Tywin, it is an honour," the Prince said, though his eyes remained cold and assessing.

Stannis sat, rigid and unyielding on his horse, slightly apart from the flashy man from Sunspear. At twenty-one, Tywin knew that this Baratheon was far more suited to rule than Robert ever would be.

"Prince Oberyn. I take it by your arrival in my camp, with Lord Stannis by your side, that House Tyrell is no more," Tywin stated.

Stannis gave a jerky nod and then slid from his horse.

"Lord Tywin, any word from my brother?" Stannis asked worry etched on his face.

"No."

"Lord Mace Tyrell and Lord Redwyn are secured with our men, who are staged outside of the King's Gate. Our army is not as large as yours Lord Tywin, but we are prepared to see this through. Now, where is my sister?" Oberyn demanded.

Tywin saw his brother move slightly, his hand on his sword. Tyg had never said much about what happened when he'd found Elia and her daughter, but he'd remained protective of the child ever since.

"She is in labour, My Lord," Sansa said, stepping forward.

Tywin saw the assessing leer on Oberyn's face as the Prince looked at Sansa, and Tywin let out a small growl, which earned a smirk from the man from Sunspear.

He dipped his head towards Sansa and Tywin.

"So, it is true. The Great Lion did indeed marry, and a Tully. That must mean the rumours of an alliance are true."

"They are, My Lord," Catelyn Stark said, joining the conversation.

What was it about these women that made them so bold? Tywin wondered.

Sansa.

Catelyn.

Elia.

This world was often not kind to women, but these three had seemed to be forged of something different. Something strong and fierce.

"Lady Stark," Oberyn said, smirking. "You have aligned yourself with the lions?"

"I have aligned myself, as my husband has and my father, with the rebel forces that will bring the dragons to their knees. Which side are you on, Prince Oberyn? So far, I've yet to hear a declaration from your lips."

Even Tywin was impressed with Lady Stark, as Sansa's sister faced the Prince from Sunspear.

Oberyn seemed to realize just how outmanned he was and gave a small bow.

"I meant no disrespect. We have been worried about our sister for an age. To hear that she was rescued, and by the Golden Lion, well, we were most relieved. We have proven ourselves, keeping our army out of the fight and liberating Storm's End. When we breach the capital's wall, it will be on your side, Lord Tywin and Lady Stark."

Tywin held the man's dark gaze and gave a curt nod. He didn't trust him by half, but so far, Dorne had held to their agreement.

"Bring him to the Maester," he said, stepping back to allow Oberyn access to his sister.

Tywin knew that the debt that Dorne owed the West was great. And that House Martell had more significant issues than just the Mad King. Many in their region believed Houses Yarnwood or Dayne had a better claim to rule the region than they did. Let those from the south battle amongst themselves.

Tygett 'escorted' Oberyn through their camp, followed closely by Tywin and Sansa until they stopped outside a tent, where screams could be heard.

Tygett was about to speak when the flap opened, and little Rhae came bolting out and calling for Tyg.

"Uncle Lion," she cried, and they watched in wonder as he opened his arms, and Rhae flew into them.

Oberyn looked utterly shocked that Elia's daughter was so familiar with Tygett Lannister.

"What is this?" he asked.

Sansa smiled kindly at him, and Tywin saw the man respond in kind. She would make an excellent Queen – whether of the seven or the West. Diplomacy seemed to be in her blood.

"Jaime and Elia were pursued by the King's men when they escaped King's Landing. When Lords Kevan and Tygett found them, they were surrounded. The men were cut down, and little Rhae formed an attachment to her lion protector."

Tywin almost smirked at the look on the Prince's face at the tale. It was almost unbelievable, if not for the small child in Tgyett's arms.

"Mama is hurt," came Rhae's voice, just as another scream pierced the air.

A look of alarm crossed Oberyn's face, and Sansa stepped forward, seeing that Oberyn had the wrong impression.

"What in seven hells is going on?" Oberyn demanded.

"It is labour, my Lord. It is painful," Sansa said dryly. "Come, I'll escort you inside."

Tywin watched as Sansa and Catelyn took Oberyn inside the Maester's tent, disappearing from his sight. Tywin quickly left the area, not willing to subject himself to the horrors of labour and what a woman went through to give birth. He had enough nightmares to add more, especially with Sansa pregnant.

When he entered his tent, Tywin stopped, seeing Stannis there, pacing. The young man from the Stormlands paused and looked momentarily panicked before he straightened. There had been a time when Tywin's two closest friends had been Steffon and Aerys. When had it all gone so wrong?

"Lord Baratheon," Tywin said, flicking his eyes to his guards. They took up a position at the entrance to the tent, not trusting Stannis enough to leave Tywin alone.

Stannis snorted. "That title belongs to my brother. The man who started this madness."

Tywin's eyebrow arched as he reached for a goblet of water. "You disagree with your brother's actions?"

Stannis's lips tightened. "I am a loyal man, Lord Tywin. I did my duty and held my family's seat."

"Yes. That was quite a feat. Tell me, did food find its way to you before you were forced to eat rats and leather?"

Tywin saw he'd startled Stannis, whose brilliant mind put together who had sent rations to Storm's End. He strode closer to Tywin.

"It was you. You were the one that arranged food to be smuggled in."

"I could hardly be in an alliance and let you starve to death," Tywin said, indicating that Stannis take a seat.

When both men were seated, Tywin folded his hands, gazing at Steffon's second born.

"Now tell me, what do you wish to speak to me about?"

"I saw you once when I was a boy. You were in the Throne room of the Red Keep, sitting on the Iron Throne, hearing petitioners. My father had brought Robert and me to court. I was in awe of you – how you commanded the room. I thought you were the King. Later, my father explained how often you sat in for Aerys when he was negligent in his duty."

Tywin gave a slow nod and leaned forward. "Duty is important to you, isn't it?"

Stannis swallowed hard. "Duty is everything, Lord Tywin."

Tywin grunted and sat back, contemplating Stannis. He was much more palatable to deal with than Robert; that much was apparent.

"Duty is important, Lord Stannis. But tell me, what happens when duty and conscience are at odds?"

Stannis looked started as if he'd never considered such a thing. "I don't know. Ser Davos, a man loyal to our house, smuggled in onions, Lord Tywin to Storm's End. He also saved us from starvation, but I took his fingers at the knuckle, for his crime."

"A crime that saved you," Tywin retorted.

Stannis stiffened. "The outcome does not negate the crime."

Tywin hummed. "Perhaps. But a word of advice. The world is not that simplistic. To rule, you must sometimes make decisions that you disagree with, but for the greater good, they are what must be done. Do not allow yourself to become inflexible."

Sansa had taught him that. Tywin's inflexibility would have led to ruin for his house.

With that statement, Tywin coughed and indicated it was time for Stannis to leave. The man, Jaime's age, made it to the flap of the tent before he turned back.

"Can I ask one final question, Lord Tywin?"

Tywin nodded. "You may."

"Did you bring your army to save your son? Or to take King's Landing? To take the Iron Throne?"

Ahhh, so the intelligence of Robert's brother had not been exaggerated.

Tywin smiled, though there was nothing friendly about it. In fact, had anyone asked Stannis, he would have claimed he felt like a stag that had just been captured by a lion for its next meal. Still, Stannis did not waver as he held Tywin's eyes.

"Lord Stannis, why does it have to be one or the other?"

With that, Stannis was escorted from his tent, and Tywin could only pray that Robert fell at the Trident. This would all be so much easier if it were Stannis who was in charge of the Stormlands.

Tywin was at his desk, answering ravens, when Sansa arrived, hours later. She looked exhausted, pale and wan, and he hurried to her side, guiding her to the small daybed that was there for her to stretch out on.

"Thanks. Elia had a boy. No name yet," she said yawning. "Oberyn is pleased, and while he didn't say anything, I can see his mind working, Ty."

Sansa was leaning against him, her eyes closed. Tywin adored how she shortened his name in private. She told him it was a nickname, something else from her time that was just theirs.

"Well, he'll soon learn that Dorne will be very alone should he attempt to cross me."

She snuggled closer into his arms and let out a little laugh. "You're sexy when you use your Lord of Casterly Rock voice."

Sexy was another term that Sansa had shared with him. Tywin chuckled softly.

"Well, your sexy husband had a visitor while you were with Elia."

Her blue eyes popped open. "Who?"

"Stannis."

He could see the million questions she had. Her mind was such a marvel, and Tywin learned it rarely shut off. He traced a finger down her face, pleased she looked a little less pale.

"What did he want?"

Tywin cocked his head. "I think he wanted reassurance. That he wasn't alone, he's a very … serious and determined young man. In some ways, he reminds me a lot of Lord Stark."

Sansa snorted and shuffled a bit. "You're just used to Lannisters."

"And what do you mean by that?"

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Tywin, you and Jaime have armour adorned with gold and rubies. You're both … commanding and demand attention. The golden hair, the green eyes, the incredible good looks. Neither Stannis nor Ned, both second sons, were raised to be in the spotlight. Neither one of them were used to the roles in which they have been thrust. And neither one of them has a father to help guide them."

He knew his expression was slightly startled as he realized the truth to her words. She took his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Tywin, both of them will need guidance. They will need someone to help them. Both of them will be thrust into roles they did not have by virtue of their birth. Who better to help them than you, my love?"

Tywin wondered if a day would ever come when Sansa would stop surprising him and thought it probably would not. As she settled back in his arms, they had a few hours until it was time for supper, and he was content to hold her. Within moments, her soft snores indicated she had fallen asleep, and Tywin was free to think about what Sansa had said.

Three young lords, one in the North, one in the Stormlands, and Edmure Tully in the Riverlands and all of them requiring a firm hand and guidance. If Tywin included Jaime to be among those young noble-born men that would be the future of the realm, he realized he was in a position to shape them. And thus shape the future of the realm – those that would inherit the seats of the Great Houses.

It was an interesting thought, but one in which many things would have to go their way, including Rhaegar and Robert's deaths at the Trident.

Until then, they would wait. And they would plan.

Three days later – Tywin

Elia had insisted on staying in the Lannister camp since Rhaenys wouldn't be separated from her lion protector, and the birth had exhausted the princess. Added to all of that, Tywin's army was much more extensive. Dorne had only mobilized five thousand men, and most of the Stormlands were with Robert at the Trident.

It meant that the war conclaves were happening outside the Lion's Gate, in the Lannister camp. Tywin had insisted upon it, knowing Sansa, Catelyn, and Elia were safest here. Oberyn had barely put up a fight, while Stannis had spent more and more time with Jaime. Oddly enough, two young men that had barely anything in common could be found sparing together regularly.

Now Tywin was focused on the map of King's Landing and where they assumed Aerys had men positioned. They had shared with Prince Oberyn and Lord Stannis the wildfire fear and both men had been suitably horrified.

"Any men he had left, he's pulled them all back," Kevan reported, having been on a scouting mission earlier that day.

"Are there any secret passageways into the castle?" Oberyn asked, his dark eyes fixated on Tywin. "You were hand for years, Lord Tywin. Surely you know a way in." The accusation was unmistakable.

Tywin bit back the retort and leaned forward.

"I do. The problem is that Aerys has had them all sealed off."

Tywin had received word from Pycelle that along with the pyromancers, Varys had been Aerys near-constant companion for weeks and that all the lower levels were heavily guarded. There was no way that Varys didn't know each entrance into the capital that Tywin did.

"The best we can depend upon, it that at my signal, my man will open one of the gates. That is how we will gain access."

Neither Stannis nor Oberyn liked the plan, but there wasn't much they could say since they had nothing better.

"The issue is that the moment we breach, Aerys will light the wildfire," Jaime said. "How many people will die if we enter the city?"

"And how many will die if we stay outside if we are craven to act!" Oberyn bellowed.

With Elia's son now safely here, Tywin knew the man from Dorne thought his nephew second in line to the Iron Throne after Rhaegar.

"Prince Oberyn, perhaps you forget your place. The alliance is between the North, West, Riverlands, Vale and Stormlands. So far, Dorne has done very little to earn our trust," Tywin bit out.

His voice was low and deadly, and the dark hair man swallowed hard.

"There is a successor – to the Mad King. A clear line…"

"The Targaryen rule ends now, Oberyn," Tywin stated, refusing to back down.

Subtly, both Stannis and Catelyn Stark moved to his side, leaving the man from Sunspear alone.

"My sister is married to the Crown Prince. She bore him a legitimate son! You know this!" Oberyn raged.

"And the rebellion was about ending Targaryen rule," Tywin countered neatly. "You knew this when you accepted my terms for the safety of Elia and her children. They are in my camp, Lord Oberyn, not yours."

Tywin threw the raven into the center of the map, making Oberyn curse and spin away. Tywin was just about to press his point when the tent flap opened, and a messenger rushed in, breathing hard.

"My Lord, word from the Trident," he said, thrusting the parchment at Tywin.

Tywin glanced towards Sansa, who gave the tiniest of nods. If history held, it would be word that Rhaegar was dead, his army broken, and that Ned Stark now rushed down the King's Road with Robert's vanguard.

Wasting no time, Tywin opened it and scanned the paper.

Then he let a rare public smile show.

"The rebellion is over. We have won!" he declared. "Prince Rhaegar is dead, along with Robert Baratheon, who sustained a mortal wound after striking the decisive blow."

There was a pained breath by Stannis, but otherwise, the man remained stoic, as if understanding what this meant. He was now the Lord of Storm's End.

Oberyn looked slightly stunned as if he hadn't quite been sure this would be the outcome.

"And my husband, Lord Tywin?" Lady Catelyn asked, worry evident.

Tywin gentled his tone. Catelyn Stark had more than proven herself in these months since she'd been in his company. She deserved to know.

"Alive my lady, and riding hard for King's Landing to join us."

Jaime caught Catelyn as she almost stumbled before righting herself, giving a slight nod of her head.

"Thank you, My Lord, for your most welcome news."

Oberyn's fist on the map drew everyone's attention back to him. Tywin was tired of the man's dramatics, and the sooner that he could send him back to Dorne, the better.

"We need to move now!" the Prince insisted.

Suddenly, there was a loud boom, and Tywin barely had a chance to exchange a worried glance with Sansa and Jaime before they were rushing outside of the tent and into the night.

In the distance, there was the unmistakable green glow of wildfire as the Red Keep burned, flames licking out windows and the smell of smoke and death carrying even here.

The Mad King had made good on his threat – to light the capital on fire and test his luck at being reborn a dragon, the fate of the innocent be damned.

No longer were they here to liberate the city – now it was a rush against time to save the people of King's Landing, while everything around them burned and turned to ash.

End of Part 1