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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years ago

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Don’t Say It (Tywin x Reader)

I know I disappeared for a little but I hit a writers block with this one, I think it’s due to exhaustion over me working full time so I hope @thanyatargaryen forgives me if this wasn’t what you intended. Enjoy

Olenna Tyrell was a legend, she had learned the rules by heart and was now on a mission to pass them down to her wonderful granddaughters, the beautiful rose that listened to the name of Margaery and the bewitching siren that could stop a man with a simple song, the young (y/n).

Olenna was no fool, she recognized that the two girls were her strongest soldiers, with these two alone she could rule all of Westeros, well at least all the men which was the same thing.

“Today is an important day, even for you dearest, the wedding of your sister to the king means every eligible lord from all of the seven kingdoms will be attending”

“I am well aware, you do not have to worry about me, grandmother”

(Y/n) reassured olenna whilst her handmaidens assisted her with the finest dress anyone had ever seen, it was her first time at court she needed to look her best, (y/n) squeezed into a dress that was custom made, her hair had taken hours and was brushed to perfection and she smelled of the finest of fragrance oils that were brought from Dorne, it is safe to say that (y/n) couldn’t have looked nor smelled better.

Everyone’s breath hitched at their throats when (y/n) walked with the confidence only a Tyrell could possess, she strutted up to her big sister to wrap her arms around Margaery with clear endearment.

“Congratulations, my queen”

“Oh come on now stop with that”

“I know this is a blessed day for the king but could he be so kind and hear a plea I have for him?”

“Anything for my good sister”

“Look after my dear Marge, as she has done for me”

(Y/n)s voice was as sweet as strawberry cakes and her smile could stop a man dead in his tracks, the young Tyrell leaned on her big sister pressing her chin on Margaerys shoulder whilst the bride leaned her head close to (y/n) as well, the girls shared a strong bond, it was the first time that they would be separated ever since (y/n) was born.

What they did not know was that a certain someone had already his blue set of eyes on the lovely Tyrell who seemed so blatantly unaware of it all, Tywin had sworn to never remarry, no one would ever be as good as his dearest Joanna, she was the one that knew him like the back of her hand, the lady that could wrap her arms around the vicious lion and make him swoon, if she saw him now she would laugh at him, she always told him “never say never my love, you won’t know what the future holds for you”.

“You have your queen and your alliance now, I hope you are happy”

“Naturally, Margaery will serve the realm greatly”

“Soon enough she will start popping out lions, hopefully, my little (y/n) will have better luck”

“What could be better than becoming the queen mother?”

“Becoming the lady wife of a lord that cares for your well-being and happiness”

Tywin grew silent, there was nothing he could say against the allegations of Jeffrey’s cruel nature, he could only hope that Margaery was cunning enough to outsmart him which honestly was not going to be much of a huddle, all the times that Joffrey has been able to be sadistic was owed to other peoples stupidity to either allow him or cover for him.

“Well then let me take a good look at this girl you have such expectations for, lady (y/n)”

Tywin called for the girl whilst he stood a few feet away from the newlyweds, (y/n)s eyes finally found his, and Tywin felt his chest grow tight, the girl was a dream, a dream he often had but could never speak of due to him always believing it will be just that… a silly dream of a widower.

“Lord Tywin, I can imagine this day is probably one of the happiest for your house, correct me if I am wrong but house Tyrell has never wed a Lannister prior to this moment”

“Indeed, let this be a fruitful union for both of our houses, your grandmother has spoken quite highly of you”

“Oh do not listen to her, it is a grandmother's nature to always speak for her grandchildren in the best light”

“Nonsense, Garlan is utterly nice which makes him boring and Loras likes to imagine being a young day twirling in a dress on the garden field, I had lost all hope up until you and your sister were born, the true soldiers of the Tyrell’s”

(Y/n) smiled sweetly before she leaned to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, (y/n) and Margaery was well trained, they had sat on the table and played against the best of players only to come out victorious, now Margaery was queen and (y/n) was ready to score her alliance that would bring nothing but glory to her and her family.

“Lady olenna is a lot of things but she is not soft nor does she hide behind her finger, if she says you are her best card then I truly believe it”

Olenna noticed the graciousness in the old lions' words, she picked up on the scanning look that started from her toes and ended on the top of her head, (y/n) did not even have a hair out of place, she placed her hand over her heart as a sign of vulnerability and her smile became brighter in gratitude.

“You are utmost kind, my lord, it is not every day a lady gets to be complimented by the warden of Casterly Rock and the hand of the king, I consider myself lucky for that”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, above it all I am a man that favors honesty and that is what you are receiving”

“I shall go before your words get all in my head, it was an honor to meet you, my lord”

(Y/n) went to curtsy before she was interrupted by Tywin that instead of letting her, reached for her hand and then placed his other one on top of hers, a smirk still evident on his lips as his eyes pierced through her, yet he was left with nothing, (y/n) had always prevailed under the hawking looks of men, she was well aware that she could not budge whatsoever.

“I will see you later Grandmother”

“Of course little flower, go on now, have some fun for me”

Olenna kissed the top of the lady’s head lovingly, it was not a secret that olenna doted on her especially now that it was her turn to marry, she had to bite her lip when it came to Margaery since her son had already bargained her for a sweet deal of a crown, she must do right by (y/n).

Once the lady was far away enough Olenna turned her head towards Tywin who was still following the enchanting Tyrell with his gaze, the way she walked, talked, even her breathing was perfect, his thumb traced over his fingertips, recalling how soft and warm he skin felt against his touch.

“I know that look”

“Pardon?”

“You are planning something”

“I always am”

“If you are scheming to betroth my precious flower to another lion, I must admit I would rather it be you than that little son of yours, in truth I would rather for her to stay away from lions but an old lion is better than Tyrion”

The news of Tywins betrothal hit everyone in kings landing like a ton of bricks. Joffrey was dead, Margaery was technically the dowager queen, and the crown was getting weak by the moment.

(Y/n) had become her sister's shadow, some applauded her compassion and how she was present at all hours to console her sister, what they did not know was that Olenna was already moving the strings for Margaery to marry Tommen, the young, kind boy who could never hurt a fly, however, Olenna had ensured both of the girls now once and for all, what better way to do that than to mess with Tywins head?

“Lady olenna, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am here to propose another marriage between my house and yours”

“That is no surprise, I am to expect you wish to betroth Margaery to Tommen?”

“No, no my dear Margaery has been through way too much”

“Loras is still to marry Cersei, is there a change in that betrothal?”

“Unfortunately that mess of a wedlock is still going steady, I am concerned over my (y/n)”

Tywin had been too occupied with writing to look up at olenna up until now, his ears perked up at the sound of her name, the girl with the bright smile and the scary resemblance to a shadow of the past.

“What do you wish to suggest?”

“My (y/n) is sweet, kind, and full of life, I believe Tommen would treat her as delicate as she deserves to be treated”

“Tommen? You want to put (y/n) by the new king's side?”

“Tommen is a good boy, nothing like Joffrey, I have taken notice of how Tommen smiles at her, no man could ever deny my beloved granddaughter, I am convinced their reign will be prosperous”

“Mayhaps, although I do not believe Tommen should be the one to marry (y/n)”

“Who else could stand the weight of the crown? Tommen is in much need of someone like (y/n), to keep him humble and gentle, show him what it is like to be loved”

That was what made tywins blood boil the most, the concept of (y/n) hugging Tommen, his grandson brushing (y/n)s hair, the lady creating a child out of Tommens semen, the image of her with a swollen belly whilst Tommen rubbed his hand over it made his skin crawl.

No, no he would never allow another man to be by her side on those milestones, he was graced by the gods with a second chance at love, how could he be a bystander to a marriage that would probably be terrific, although Tywin could never survive with the “what if” lingering on his mind.

“Because she is to marry me”

“Pardon?”

“I am to be betrothed to the lady (y/n), our marriage will take place the same day as Margaerys and Tommens, your Margaery will be queen, and lady (y/n) will become the lady of the rock”

“I would rather die than let my dearest become a second wife, your daughter will eat her alive once the news hit her ears”

“Are you afraid of Cersei?”

“I am petrified of the brass neck your daughter possesses, that woman thinks she can do whatever she pleases with no consequence”

“Cersei is my daughter, you have nothing to worry about she will not be allowed to harm your little girl, once (y/n) falls pregnant that child will become heir of Casterly Rock”

“What if she births a girl?”

“You and (y/n) along with Margaery will decide on her future, I will not partake or force my daughter to do anything”

“Your offer is dripping with syrup, but I will not accept, I gave you Loras and Margaery and now you dare to ask for more”

“If you do not consent to this then I shall announce a match of (y/n) and Ser Sandor Clegane, how does that sound?”

“Careful now, what you are suggesting is… grasping”

“Indeed, but I am feeling rather charitable so I grant you the day to decide, if I do not have an answer by the morrow then the sweet girl will be cloaked with a wonderful yellow flag”

Tywin was a man that proudly stood behind his every word, so as he walked out with a triumphed smirk on his lips he was too occupied with feeling his triumph to notice that olenna was also doing the same (y/n) was now the future lady of the rock and Margaery was to have a second chance to wear the crown.

“My lord”

(Y/n) interrupted his thoughts once she saw him, Tywin stopped swiftly before he could fall right onto her, she was waiting behind the door anxiously, her eyes gawked at the man as her cheeks grew rosy from the embarrassment of her clumsy nature.

“Lady (y/n), what seems to be so important that you could not wait in your chamber for your grandmother”

“She informed me about my betrothal, I apologize I was just so fidgety I wanted to know the second that it was settled”

“Are you in such a rush to marry that boy? I am concerned over your taste”

“Tommen is a wonderful person and the future king, any lady would be lucky to be his lady wife”

“So is it the promise of a crown that excites you? I can tell you wearing a piece of metal decorated with gems will not bring you any happiness”

“Pardon my intrusion but why are you so opposed to the fact of me marrying your grandson? I am highborn and have received the proper education, your house along with the Baratheon owe my family everything”

“It is not you that is not enough young lady”

Silence fell over them, Tywin had stumbled right on her trap and now he was as still as a grain of salt, only blinking at the girl that acted surprised over his suggestion that Tommen was the one that was short when he stood next to her, (y/n) bit her lip before she gazed down for a split second and then back up, she wanted to appear at a loss of words.

“I do not want to believe what my thoughts are suggesting”

“You are a fool if you don’t”

“Lord Tywin, you and I it- how could”

“I am too old for this game my dear, I have given your grandmother the rest of the day to decide and if I’m being frank I believe that luck is on my side, so I suggest you ran along and instruct the finest tailor to start on your gown, you must look as stunning as ever”

“I am fluttered, but I do not understand-“

“Listen to me dear, from that moment you smiled at me you have haunted every waking moment and I cannot seem to escape you even in the shackles of deep slumber, I am aware that I do not look like the young and beautiful knight in shining armor a maiden might expect to marry but I can you this promise right now, every other lady from east to west will be jealous of the luck you held when you marry me”

Lord Tywin once again made his exit thinking that he had the upper hand, if someone were to consider everything that has been done in this world wasn’t it always like this?

A man trotted away victorious while the woman stood and smiled proudly at herself, moving the strings without even the man realizing that she had very carefully placed the strings around his arms like a little puppet.

“My dearest girl, I was there at your birth and I took one good look at you and saw the moon and the stars in those eyes, I always knew you would be the brightest of them all”

Olenna informed (y/n) once she had walked into the office Tywin was in moments ago, Olenna wrapped her arms around her in the most loving manner and (y/n) responded with the same warmth.

“We have so much to plan, the future doesn’t wait for anyone”

“How could he ever do this to our family?”

“Who did what?”

“Do not play the fool with me Jaime I am sure you have heard of the vilest news, our father is to marry that little rat from Highgarden”

“One of them is a smirking whore and the other one is a rat? Well you certainly won’t have a good time in the palace once all of them marry into our family”

“How could be so calm at this time? Our son is dead, the other one is to marry Margaery and now our father betrayed us”

“Our father has been without a wife for over a decade Cersei, he is a highborn lord, anyone would have a good chunk of heirs from another wife by now”

In jaimes defense he has always attempted to take the logical side when Cersei went on her little paranoid rants over loyalty or whatever the case was at that time, however, this time he could not sit for hours and let her blabber.

Jaime did not even blink when his father told him about his betrothal, he is a kingsguard, and Tyrion is… well, Tyrion and Cersei have played her part in becoming queen though she could not inherit lannisport, every year he waited for his father to announce a marriage of alliance for himself and now it was finally time.

“This is despicable, they will tarnish our name”

“How will they do that exactly? (Y/n) will probably do her best at becoming pregnant which will install our name to live on which as you know is truly what our father cares about”

“Margaery is a manipulative little scum she will shred our Tommen to pieces”

“Tommen was tormented by Joffrey for years and you know it, if anything having some female tending to him will probably do wonders for his confidence”

“Of course as a man that is all you think about, I do not even know why I came to you over this matter, once again I am called to act by myself”

That is when Jaime had heard enough, very softly he rose from his seat and went over to his clearly disheveled sister, a kiss was laid on the center of her forehead all while his hands rubbed up and down to her forearms making her puff out a breath of relief from the comfort his touch brought to her.

“You will do nothing, Father has already announced his betrothal, if anyone even touched a hair from (y/n)s head he will not hesitate to demand its head to be served on a silver platter”

“Father is just being short sighed it is us that must act to save him”

“From what? Having his bed warm by a woman? Especially her, surely you are not that blind that you haven’t understood what he saw in her”

“Don’t say it”

“I know it feels like salt over the wound-“

“No, no”

“You must admit the resemblance is uncanny”

“Never!”

Cersei pushed him away harshly, tears welled up in her eyes and all of a sudden she was rudely pulled back to that day, the gods forsaken day that Cersei had to witness her mother laying in bed with blood staining her nightgown.

“That bitch is not our mother”

“She is not, though she looks like her”

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 3 months ago

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A Tyrell in the Lion's Den (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Word count: 3.7k

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!reader

Summary: Y/n reflects on her evolving relationship with Tywin Lannister, which transitions from a secret affair to a profound alliance as they prepare to marry, while political tensions escalate with Tyrion’s trial and the brutal outcome of the trial by combat leaves her questioning Tywin’s ruthlessness

Warnings: Mature Themes, Possessiveness, Death, Graphic violence, manipulation, power dynamics, Emotional distress

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The trial of Tyrion Lannister reached its climax in a flurry of accusations and manipulated testimonies. I watched from the shadows, carefully observing every player in the room. My relationship with Tywin had shifted from an affair hidden behind closed doors to something far more profound. The deeper I waded into the political intrigue of the court, the more I realized that we were bound by something more than just power or lust. We had become partners in the game, each relying on the other for strength and strategy.

But there was one more move left to play—one that would cement our alliance, not just in politics but in life. Tywin and I were going to marry.

A few days before Tyrion’s fate was to be decided, Tywin met with Lady Olenna in the gardens of the Red Keep. The tension between them was palpable, though I had little doubt that Olenna was enjoying every moment of their verbal sparring. She was the only person in King’s Landing who could match Tywin’s sharp wit and unflinching demeanor, and I knew he both respected and loathed her for it.

“So,” Olenna began, a sly smile playing on her lips as they strolled through the manicured paths. “You’re here to talk about Y/n, aren’t you?”

Tywin’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. He wasn’t accustomed to being read so easily, but with Olenna, he couldn’t help it. “Yes. I wish to discuss the possibility of taking her hand in marriage.”

Olenna raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Marriage, Lord Tywin? At your age?”

He didn’t flinch. “It’s a logical step.”

“Logical?” she echoed, her smile growing. “Come now, Tywin. We both know you’ve had no interest in marriage since Joanna. What’s changed?”

He stopped walking and faced her, his expression as hard as ever, though I knew better than to think he was unaffected. “Circumstances have changed. Y/n has proven herself to be more than just a fleeting amusement. She understands this game, and she plays it better than most. Together, we would be... formidable.”

Olenna chuckled softly. “Ah, so this is about power after all. I was starting to think you might actually be fond of her.”

Tywin’s face darkened slightly. “I respect her. That is more than I can say for most women at court.”

“Oh, please. Spare me the stone-faced act, Tywin,” Olenna said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re not doing this just for power. You may be ruthless, but you’re still human. You care about her, and that’s why you’re willing to put your neck on the line by marrying again. And let’s be honest, it’s also why you’re standing here, asking me for my approval. You know as well as I do that Y/n is... special.”

Tywin remained silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered her words. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but no less commanding. “I didn’t plan on this, Olenna. I didn’t intend to marry again. But Y/n has become... important.”

Olenna’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Important? Tywin Lannister, admitting something so close to affection? The world may end any moment now.”

He scowled, but Olenna continued before he could respond. “Well, I suppose I could give my blessing. But remember, Tywin, once Y/n is your wife, we’ll be more closely connected than ever. Our families, our ambitions, intertwined.” Her smile was mischievous. “I wonder if you’ll come to regret that.”

The next step was meeting with my father. He had never been as shrewd or calculating as Olenna, but he held influence nonetheless. When Tywin approached him about my hand, the conversation was more direct, as my father, though less sharp, was no fool.

“It’s unexpected,” my father said, sipping his wine as they sat in his chambers. “I didn’t think you’d remarry.”

“I had no intention of doing so,” Tywin admitted, his voice as cool as ever. “But Y/n is not like the women I’ve encountered before.”

My father smiled slightly. “She takes after her grandmother in that regard. I always thought she would find herself in a powerful marriage, though I must say, I didn’t expect it to be with the Lord of Casterly Rock.”

Tywin’s gaze was steady. “I value her mind, her strength, and her ability to navigate court life. With her beside me, our houses will be stronger.”

My father considered this, nodding thoughtfully. “And does she know about this proposal?”

“She will soon,” Tywin replied. “But I wanted your approval first.”

A pause hung in the air, and for a moment, my father looked almost somber. “Do you care for her, Tywin? I know what kind of man you are. I’ve watched you for years. Y/n is strong, but she’s still my daughter. If you hurt her…”

Tywin’s expression remained unreadable, but his tone shifted slightly, more earnest than before. “I will not hurt her. In my own way, I care for her more than I’ve cared for anyone since Joanna.”

My father seemed satisfied with that, though there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes. “Then you have my blessing.”

The night Tywin told me about his conversations with Olenna and my father, I felt a wave of emotions I hadn’t anticipated. Marriage. I had known it was a possibility, even an inevitability, but hearing Tywin speak of it so plainly stirred something inside me.

We sat in his chambers, as we always did, but this time the air felt different—charged with the weight of what was to come. He looked at me with those piercing eyes, always calculating, always watching, but there was a softness there that I had begun to recognize.

“Do you want this?” I asked him quietly, my voice steady despite the swirl of thoughts in my mind.

Tywin didn’t hesitate. “I didn’t plan for it. I didn’t want to marry again. But now, things are different. You are different.”

I met his gaze, searching for any trace of uncertainty, but found none. “And what happens when we’re married? Do I become just another Lannister pawn?”

He reached out, his hand brushing against mine. “No. You will be my equal in this. Together, we will command more power than either of us could alone.”

“And your affection?” I teased lightly, though my heart raced. “Will you guard that as closely as you guard your power?”

Tywin’s lips quirked into a rare smile, one that made my heart skip a beat. “Affection is dangerous in our world, Y/n. But with you, I’ve found it’s a danger I’m willing to accept.”

I smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Then it’s settled.”

In the days following our decision, the court buzzed with rumors of our impending marriage. Some saw it as a brilliant political move, others whispered about the unusual nature of it all—how Tywin, after all these years, had finally taken a new bride.

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The throne room was filled with the heavy, suffocating tension of impending violence. I sat beside Tywin, watching as the trial by combat unfolded before us. The air was thick with anticipation, the entire court on edge as Oberyn Martell faced off against Ser Gregor Clegane. Tyrion stood off to the side, shackled and silent, his eyes flicking between the fighters. His fate was in the balance, and while my heart ached for him, I remained quiet, my hand resting in Tywin’s, our fingers interlaced in a way that made it seem like a casual gesture of solidarity. But I could feel the weight of it—a reminder of where my loyalties lay, even in the face of cruelty.

Tywin’s grip on my hand was firm, and I could feel his eyes on me, even though he did not turn his head. “Don’t look away,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “If you do, they will think you are weak. And weakness, in this court, is fatal.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. I wanted to look away—every instinct in me screamed to avert my gaze from the brutal spectacle before me. But Tywin’s words anchored me, and I kept my eyes fixed on the fight, even as the sounds of clashing steel and heavy breathing filled the air.

I could see the cruelty in his commands. This was the same man who could orchestrate his own son’s death without flinching. Tyrion’s trial, the trial by combat—it was all a cold calculation to Tywin, another move on his chessboard. I squeezed his hand tightly, not out of affection, but out of an anxious need for control. I couldn’t allow my emotions to show, not here, not now.

And yet, the fear lingered at the edges of my thoughts. If Tywin could do this to Tyrion, his own son, what would he be capable of with our future children? The thought sent a chill through me, and I felt a pang of doubt twist in my chest. He was ruthless, calculating—qualities I admired and had even learned to love in him. But would that same coldness extend to any child we might have together?

Would he see them only as heirs, as pawns to secure the future of House Lannister? Or worse, would he show them the same disdain he had for Tyrion, should they disappoint him?

My heart clenched at the thought. I wanted children—many of them. I had always imagined a large family, one filled with warmth, laughter, and love. But Tywin’s idea of family was far different. To him, family was duty and legacy. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, his face unreadable as ever, watching the fight with the same detachment he approached everything.

Could he ever be a father in the way I hoped? Or would he be a tyrant, even to his own blood?

A sickening crack echoed through the room, and my attention snapped back to the trial by combat. Oberyn had struck Ser Gregor down, and for a moment, it seemed as though Tyrion might win. My heart lifted, and I saw a flash of hope in Tyrion’s eyes as well. But it was short-lived. Gregor Clegane, impossibly strong, rose again, his massive hands closing around Oberyn’s head.

The sounds that followed—bones crunching, Oberyn’s final scream of agony—made my stomach churn. I fought to keep my expression neutral, though I could feel bile rising in my throat. My hand clenched tighter around Tywin’s, my knuckles white.

Oberyn fell, lifeless, and the Mountain stood victorious, blood dripping from his hands. The room erupted into murmurs, and I could feel the eyes of the court on Tywin, waiting for him to deliver the final blow to his son.

Tywin rose slowly, his grip still firm on my hand, as though grounding me to the moment. His voice was as cold as winter when he spoke.

“Tyrion Lannister, you are hereby sentenced to death.”

The words hung in the air, and I felt my heart drop. The cruelty of it, the coldness in Tywin’s voice—it terrified me in a way I hadn’t fully realized before. Tyrion was his son, and yet, there was no hesitation, no sign of remorse. If Tywin could be this heartless with his own blood, how would he be with any child we might have?

Would he ever be capable of love, of gentleness, or would he mold them into warriors of his own ambition, just as he had tried to mold Jaime and Cersei?

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to remain composed. The court was watching us—watching me—and I couldn’t afford to appear weak, as Tywin had warned. Still, the weight of my fears pressed down on me like a suffocating fog.

Tywin released my hand and turned to address the court, leaving me to sit silently, my thoughts racing. I wanted to believe that he cared for me more than as a political alliance. He had shown me tenderness in our private moments—moments where we spoke not of politics or strategy but of simpler things. Yet those moments seemed so distant now, swallowed by the brutality of this world.

As the court began to disperse, I remained in my seat, my hands trembling slightly. I couldn’t escape the gnawing fear in my heart. Tyrion would die, and I had done nothing to stop it. I was complicit in Tywin’s cruelty, just as I would be complicit in whatever future we built together.

But what kind of future would that be?

Later that night, I found myself alone with Tywin in his chambers. The atmosphere was heavy, and I could feel the strain of the day’s events weighing on both of us. I sat by the fire, my thoughts still tangled with doubt and fear.

Tywin stood across the room, watching me with that ever-calculating gaze. “You’re troubled,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

I hesitated, then nodded. “Tyrion... it’s cruel, Tywin. He’s your son.”

Tywin’s expression hardened. “Tyrion has brought this upon himself. He has been a disgrace to our family since the day he was born.”

I bit my lip, the words catching in my throat. “And if we have children? Will you be just as ruthless with them?”

His eyes softened just a fraction, and he crossed the room to stand before me. “Our children will be strong. They will not fail me as Tyrion has.”

I looked up at him, my heart aching. “I want many children, Tywin. But I don’t want them to fear you.”

He knelt before me, taking my hands in his. “They will respect me. And they will have the strength to survive in this world.”

I searched his face for any sign of tenderness, any hint of the man I had grown to love behind the cold mask of Lord Tywin Lannister. “I want more than just strength for them. I want them to feel safe. Loved.”

Tywin’s gaze softened further, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You will be their mother. And you will give them the warmth I cannot. But I will protect them. And I will protect you.”

I held his gaze, my fears still lingering but less sharp now. Tywin might never be the father I dreamed of for our children, but he was a man of his word. He would protect us. And perhaps, in time, he would come to understand that love was as powerful a weapon as any sword or army.

We sat in silence for a moment, the fire casting shadows on the walls. Tywin’s hand tightened around mine, and for the first time that day, I allowed myself to exhale, the weight on my chest lifting just a little.

But the game was far from over. Tyrion’s execution loomed, and with it, a new chapter in the story of House Lannister—and in my life as Lady Lannister.

I would have to be ready for whatever came next. But tonight, I would find solace in the man who had both terrified and captivated me, and in the promise of the family we would build together.

No matter how dangerous that future might be.

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The air between us hung heavy with the tension of the day’s events. The words I had spoken lingered—about children, about the future. Tywin’s eyes, still calculating but darker now with something else, studied me intently. He was no longer the ruthless commander of men but a man driven by something primal, something stirred by our talk of heirs and legacy. I could see the shift in him, the subtle yet unmistakable hunger that crept into his gaze.

His hand, still gripping mine, slid upwards to cup my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You want children,” he repeated, his voice low, dangerous, filled with the promise of something I hadn’t fully grasped until now.

“Yes,” I whispered, feeling a shiver run down my spine, not from fear, but from anticipation.

Tywin’s lips pressed against mine with a possessive urgency, his hand already moving to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His kiss was not gentle—it was demanding, full of intent. There was no question in my mind now what he wanted, and the thought sent heat coursing through my body.

He broke the kiss and stood, pulling me up with him. His eyes locked onto mine with a fire I rarely saw in him, except in moments of victory or conquest. “If you want children, you shall have them,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands already working to remove my dress. “But not just any children. My children. Heirs to House Lannister. Strong. Unyielding.”

I gasped as he tore the fabric from my body, leaving me bare before him. His eyes raked over me, taking in every inch of exposed skin, the hunger in his gaze unmistakable. He undressed himself quickly, and soon we stood together, both stripped of the layers that had once separated us. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the power of his presence overwhelming.

He pushed me back onto the bed, his hands spreading my legs as he loomed over me, his eyes never leaving mine. “You will give me sons,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Strong sons, to carry my name.”

The weight of his body settled on top of me, and I could feel the hardness of his arousal pressed against my thigh. My breath hitched, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and need. I wanted this—wanted him in every way. The thought of carrying his children, of being the mother to the next generation of Lannisters, thrilled me more than I had ever imagined.

He entered me in one swift motion, his grip on my hips tight as he began to move with a steady, determined rhythm. Each thrust was forceful, claiming, and I met him with equal fervor, my nails digging into his back as we moved together. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with the ragged breaths and low moans that escaped my lips.

Tywin’s hand moved to my belly, pressing down slightly as he thrust deeper into me, his eyes locked onto mine. “You will bear my sons,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “You will give me heirs.”

I moaned in response, my body arching beneath him as the intensity of our connection built. His words, the promise of what we were creating together, only fueled my desire. I wanted to please him, to give him everything he demanded. My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled him down for another kiss, our mouths clashing in a desperate, hungry embrace.

But then, suddenly, the door to the chamber flew open with a crash, and both of us froze, turning to see the intruder.

Tyrion stood in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion. His chains were gone—he had escaped his cell, but he hadn’t planned on finding his father in the middle of bedding Y/n Tyrell.

I gasped, my body still pinned beneath Tywin, but neither of us moved. Tyrion’s eyes flickered between the two of us, the reality of the situation sinking in as he took a step back, his expression a twisted mixture of disgust and disbelief.

“Father,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t realize…"

Tywin, without so much as moving off me, locked eyes with his son, his face cold, unyielding. “Leave.”

Tyrion’s jaw clenched. “After everything, after all your scheming, this is what I walk into?”

Tywin narrowed his eyes. “You have no right to speak, Tyrion. Not here. Not now.”

I could see the rage building in Tyrion, the pain and betrayal that had driven him to the point of desperation. He wanted to fight, to lash out, but I could also see the weight of everything pressing down on him. He was on the brink of losing everything, and yet, he hesitated.

I placed a hand on Tywin’s chest, gently pushing him back, and sat up, covering myself with the sheet. “Tyrion,” I said softly, trying to defuse the situation. “Please… leave King’s Landing. Escape. It’s your only chance.”

His eyes shifted to me, his expression unreadable. “You want me to run?” he asked, bitterness lacing his voice. “After everything I’ve been through, you think I’ll just run?”

I met his gaze, my heart aching for him. Tyrion had never been given the love he deserved, not from his father, not from his family. But if he stayed, there would be no mercy. “You must. If you stay, you will die. Tywin will not show mercy.”

Tywin’s hand tightened around my arm, his grip firm, but I didn’t flinch. I looked at Tyrion, pleading silently with him to listen. “Please, Tyrion. Just leave. Find a way out of the city. Live.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider it, his eyes flicking between me and Tywin. Finally, he nodded, his expression hardening. “Perhaps you’re right,” he muttered, his voice filled with resignation. “But know this, father—this is not the end. You may have won today, but your victory will be short-lived.”

With that, Tyrion turned and walked out of the chamber, leaving Tywin and me in tense silence.

Tywin exhaled slowly, his hand still resting on my arm, but the urgency of our moment had passed. He pulled away from me, standing up and moving to the side of the bed.

“You showed him mercy,” he said quietly, not looking at me.

I sat up, the sheet still wrapped around me, my heart pounding from the tension of the encounter. “He is your son,” I said softly. “I could not let him die like this.”

Tywin turned, his gaze hard and unreadable. “And what if he comes back? What if he seeks revenge?”

I met his gaze, unflinching. “Then we will deal with it when the time comes. But for now, he is gone. That is all that matters.”

Tywin’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded, as if accepting my words. “You will bear my sons,” he said again, his voice lower now, more thoughtful. “And they will be strong.”

I nodded, my heart heavy but resolute. I would give him the heirs he wanted, and I would be the mother to his legacy. But I would also ensure that our children were more than just pawns in his game. They would know love, and they would know kindness.

And perhaps, in time, Tywin would come to understand that strength came in many forms—some that even he had yet to grasp.

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