#aerys x tywin

[noxtrodoodles]

yes i came back from my hiatus only to draw aerys x tywin yaoi

[novaursa]

Fire and Gold (the consequences)

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: 3

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @lightdragonrayne

- A/N: This is the last story for today.

The Great Hall of the Red Keep is silent, an oppressive stillness weighing on the air. Dread crackles like a storm about to break as King Aerys II Targaryen, known to many now as the Mad King, sits upon the Iron Throne. His fingers, thin and white as bone, drum restlessly on the armrests, the sound echoing through the chamber like the ticking of a clock counting down to catastrophe.

The hall is empty save for a few trusted guards and the towering presence of Tywin Lannister, who stands at the foot of the throne with his head held high, his face an inscrutable mask. It is a rare sight to see him without his customary calm, but even he knows the volatility of the man before him.

“You dared to think your lioness could strike my blood, my daughter, and there would be no retribution?” Aerys’ voice is soft, almost gentle, but it carries a terrible menace. The flames of the torches lining the walls flicker, casting shadows that seem to dance with the madness in his eyes. “Your precious daughter dared to lay hands upon my Y/N. My most beloved child.”

Tywin’s face remains impassive, though you can see the faintest tension in his jaw. “Your Grace, there must be some misunderstanding. Cersei—”

“Misunderstanding?” Aerys’ voice rises sharply, and he stands, the movement sudden and jerky. His robes billow around him like the wings of a dragon. “Do you take me for a fool, Tywin? My daughter returns from your encampment cut, shaken. My Y/N, who has never known such disgrace, such insult!”

Tywin’s green eyes meet the king’s blazing violet ones. “Your Grace, if there has been an offense, I assure you it was unintended. Cersei—”

Aerys’ laughter rings through the hall, a high, grating sound that sends a shiver down the spine of every man present. “Unintended, he says! The Hand of the King claims his daughter’s treachery was unintended. She openly shamed my daughter before the eyes of our people. Your daughter, who has been nothing but a viper in this court, tried to poison the hearts of our subjects against their rightful queen!”

The Mad King steps down from the throne, his gaze never leaving Tywin. The guards stiffen but do not move, knowing better than to interfere. “You think your children are safe because you are my Hand? Because you have served me well in the past?” He leans forward, eyes glittering with a wild light. “I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms, Tywin. I could order Cersei to be burned alive and no one would dare stop me. I could burn your golden boy Jaime as well, see how well your lions roar then.”

Tywin’s composure does not falter, but a muscle twitches in his cheek. “Your Grace, I beg you to consider—”

“Consider?” Aerys hisses, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “I have considered. You think yourself so high, Tywin. So far above us all, above your king. But you are nothing without me. Nothing! You swore to protect my family, to serve the realm. And now, your blood turns against mine.”

He straightens, drawing himself up to his full, regal height, his presence a blazing fury. “I strip you of your title as Hand of the King. You will leave this court immediately and take your poisonous brood with you.”

Tywin’s eyes narrow, the only sign of his anger. “Your Grace, I have served the realm faithfully for—”

Aerys cuts him off with a savage gesture. “For too long! Too long have you schemed and plotted under my nose. Did you think I would not notice, Tywin? That I would not see your ambition, your pride?” He leans forward, his face a mask of twisted rage. “I see everything. I know everything. And I will not have it.”

The King’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “If your daughter so much as breathes near my Y/N again, if she dares to touch a hair on her head, I will burn her alive. I will burn you all. The lions of Casterly Rock will be nothing but ash.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. Tywin stands there, a statue of marble and iron, the weight of the King’s words settling on his shoulders. But he does not bow, does not flinch.

“As you command, Your Grace,” Tywin finally says, his voice steady. “We will leave the capital at once.”

Aerys’ eyes gleam with triumph. “Good. Go back to your Rock, Tywin. And remember this day. Remember what happens when you think to cross a dragon.”

With that, he turns away, dismissing Tywin as if he were nothing more than a bothersome fly. The former Hand of the King bows, a shallow, mocking dip of his head, before turning on his heel and striding from the hall. His back is rigid, unyielding, but you can sense the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

As the heavy doors close behind Tywin, Aerys slumps back onto the Iron Throne, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The madness in his eyes dims, replaced by a strange, almost childlike weariness. He leans his head back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling, a smile curling his lips.

“My daughter,” he murmurs to the empty hall. “No one will ever harm you. Not while I am king.”

But even as he speaks, you know that this is only the beginning. The wolves are circling, the lions crouched in the shadows, and the dragons? The dragons are restless, their flames licking at the bonds of peace that have held the realm together for so long.

And now, with Tywin Lannister cast down, those bonds threaten to shatter.

Storm’s End looms ahead, its ancient walls stark against the darkening sky. Tywin Lannister rides through the gates, his face as hard and unforgiving as the stone fortress that now houses his daughter. His entourage is small—just a handful of guards and his most trusted men. He has no intention of lingering here longer than necessary. He has come for one reason, and one reason alone.

As Tywin dismounts, his cold green eyes scan the courtyard. Servants scatter like frightened mice, aware of the tempest in his gaze. He strides purposefully toward the main hall, his boots striking the ground with a grim, unyielding rhythm. He does not slow his pace as the great doors swing open, revealing the grand chamber within.

Cersei stands at the center of the hall, her posture rigid, her face a mask of defiance and fear. She is dressed in her finest gown, a deep crimson that mirrors the color of Lannister pride, but the color does little to hide the trepidation in her eyes. She knows her father’s wrath is like a storm—merciless, relentless. And today, she is caught in its path.

“Father,” she greets him, her voice steady, though there is a tremor beneath it.

Tywin does not acknowledge her words. He looks past her, dismissing her greeting as if she were nothing more than a child who had disappointed him. His gaze sweeps the room and lands on Robert Baratheon, who lounges on his lord’s chair, a goblet of wine in hand. Robert’s eyes narrow as Tywin approaches, but there is no welcome in his expression.

“Lord Tywin,” Robert says, his voice slurring slightly. He shifts in his seat, a smirk playing at his lips. “Come to collect your troublesome daughter, have you?”

Tywin’s eyes, icy and penetrating, fix on Robert. “This matter does not concern you, Baratheon.” His voice is cold, precise, each word sharp as a dagger. “Leave us.”

Robert’s smirk falters. He glances at Cersei, who stands silent and still, and then back at Tywin. For a moment, he looks as if he might argue, but something in Tywin’s gaze—something deadly—makes him think better of it. He pushes himself up from his chair with a grunt and stumbles toward the door.

“Whatever,” he mutters, waving a hand dismissively. “Handle your family, Lannister. I’ve had enough of this.”

The doors close behind him with a heavy thud, and the hall falls into a silence so deep it seems to swallow every breath, every heartbeat.

Tywin turns his full attention to Cersei. The fury in his eyes is a burning, unyielding force, and she feels the weight of it like a physical blow. She straightens, lifting her chin, trying to summon her usual haughty confidence, but it feels brittle, fragile, in the face of his wrath.

“You dare,” Tywin begins, his voice a deadly whisper, “to jeopardize everything I have built, everything I have planned, for your petty pride? Do you have any idea what you have done?”

Cersei’s mouth opens, a protest ready on her lips, but Tywin’s hand lashes out, striking the table beside her with such force that she flinches. The sound echoes through the hall, a harsh, jarring noise that sets her nerves on edge.

“You drew dragon blood,” Tywin continues, his voice rising, each word a thunderclap. “Do you think that means nothing? Do you think you can strike at the heart of House Targaryen and there will be no consequences?”

“Father, I—”

“Silence!” His roar shakes the very walls, and she falls silent, her heart pounding in her chest. Never, not even in her childhood, has she seen him like this. The cold, controlled fury she is used to, but this—this is something else. This is rage stripped of all restraint, all reason.

“You have put our house in peril,” Tywin hisses, his eyes burning with a cold fire. “The Mad King threatened to burn you, Cersei. To burn Jaime. Do you think I will allow you to destroy everything I have worked for?”

Her defiance crumbles, the words she wants to say dying in her throat. “I—”

“You,” he spits, cutting her off, “are a foolish, reckless girl. You think yourself a queen, a lioness. But all you’ve done is make us vulnerable.” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper, every word enunciated with chilling clarity. “You forget yourself, Cersei. You forget your place. You forget that your actions reflect not only on you but on all of us.”

Her pride, her vanity, have always been her armor. But now, under the force of her father’s anger, it shatters. Tears sting her eyes, and she blinks them back, refusing to show that weakness. But he sees, of course. Tywin sees everything.

“You will not defy me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “You will remember who you are and what you owe this family. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she whispers, hating the quiver in her voice, hating the way he makes her feel—small, insignificant.

Tywin’s gaze holds hers, his eyes as cold and unfeeling as the stone walls around them. “You will return to Casterly Rock. You will stay there until I say otherwise. You will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she repeats, her voice barely audible.

“Good.” He steps back, the distance between them a chasm she cannot cross. “Remember, Cersei. The only reason you are still alive is because I will not allow House Lannister to be destroyed by your stupidity.”

She flinches at the harshness of his words, but she nods, holding her head high despite the tears that threaten to spill over. He looks at her one last time, his gaze filled with cold contempt, before turning and walking out of the hall, leaving her standing there, alone and broken.

The doors close behind him, and she sags against the table, her hands gripping the edge as if it is the only thing keeping her upright. She feels the rage burning inside her, mingling with the pain and humiliation. How dare he speak to her like that, treat her like a child?

But she knows, deep down, that her father is right. She has overstepped, has endangered everything. And now she will have to live with the consequences of her actions. She will have to endure the punishment he has decreed.

But as she stands there, trembling with the effort of holding herself together, she vows that one day, she will make them all pay. Tywin, Rhaegar, the Targaryen whore who has taken everything she wanted—one day, they will all suffer as she has suffered.

One day, the lioness will roar again.

The chamber is filled with the sweet scent of lavender and the faint, sterile tang of healing herbs. Soft light filters through the high windows, casting gentle shadows on the stone walls. You sit on the edge of the bed, the cold air brushing against your bare skin as Grand Maester Pycelle carefully unwinds the bandage from your side.

“Almost done, Your Grace,” Pycelle murmurs, his voice trembling slightly with age. He peers at the now-healed cut, his expression one of clinical detachment. “The wound has healed well, though the scar will remain.”

You nod, your eyes not on the maester but on Rhaegar. He stands nearby, his gaze locked on you with a mix of concern and anger that he has not yet managed to let go. His silver hair, caught in the afternoon light, seems almost ethereal, and his violet eyes soften as they meet yours.

“I should have been there,” he says, his voice low, filled with regret. He steps closer, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill in the room. “I should have protected you.”

You reach out, your fingers brushing his hand in a reassuring gesture. “You couldn’t have known, Rhaegar. Cersei’s malice was not your fault.”

Pycelle finishes his work, dabbing a final bit of ointment over the scarred flesh. “You must continue to rest, Princess,” he advises, though his eyes flick nervously between you and Rhaegar. “And avoid any strenuous activity.”

You nod absentmindedly, your attention still on Rhaegar. “Thank you, Grand Maester.”

Pycelle bows deeply and shuffles out of the room, leaving you alone with Rhaegar. He moves closer, his fingers gently tracing the scar that mars your skin, the touch as light as a feather. You can feel the anger simmering beneath his gentle exterior, the barely contained fury at what has been done to you.

“I hate that this happened to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You should never have had to suffer such a thing.”

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes. “I’m still here, Rhaegar. A scar is just a mark. It doesn’t change who I am.”

“But it shouldn’t have happened at all.” His tone is fierce, and you open your eyes to see the torment etched in his features. “I failed you, Y/N. I let that woman hurt you.”

You shake your head, taking his hand in yours and pressing it to your lips. “You didn’t fail me. You saved me by standing with me, by being here now. You are my strength, Rhaegar.”

He exhales shakily, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you,” he breathes, the words a soft vow. “More than anything. More than life itself.”

You smile, your heart swelling with warmth despite the pain and the memories that linger. “And I love you. We’ve faced worse than this, haven’t we?”

His lips curve into a small, rueful smile. “We have.” He lifts your hand, his lips brushing across your knuckles. “But I swear, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I still draw breath.”

There’s a fierceness in his voice that sends a shiver down your spine, and you know he means every word. You pull him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face against his shoulder. His embrace is strong, protective, and you feel the tension in his body, the barely suppressed urge to take revenge for what has been done to you.

“I don’t care about the scar,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m just glad to be here with you.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching your face. “You are the strongest person I know,” he says softly, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead. “Stronger than I could ever be.”

You smile, a quiet, private smile meant only for him. “I’m strong because I have you.”

His expression softens, the anger fading as he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s not the fierce passion that sometimes flares between you, but something deeper, a promise of love and devotion that will withstand any storm.

When he pulls away, his hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Rest now,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

You nod, feeling the exhaustion finally catching up with you. He helps you lie back, his hands gentle as he adjusts the blankets around you. His presence is a calming, steady anchor, and as your eyes drift shut, you know that whatever comes, whatever challenges you still have to face, you will not face them alone.

Rhaegar presses one last kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there, as if to imprint his love and protection onto your very skin. “Sleep, my love,” he whispers, his voice a soft caress. “I’ll guard your dreams.”

[myownsummerhall]

even if tywin & aerys weren’t actually having sex with each other (sorry but they definitely explored each other’s bodies and maybe a few drunk blowjobs in there) but their relationship WAS sexual regardless. there could hardly be any other relationship between the two in the context of their positions/power without the sexual humiliation rituals and assertions of sexual dominance inflicted on each other. and those acts being acts of sexual violence, which includes the possibility of aerys/joanna (or tywin/rhaella?), but also would argue includes aerys refusing tywin’s marriage offer for cersei/rhaegar AND tywin’s ultimate order for the murder of elia, rhaenys & aegon, which i would fundamentally consider as sexual violence.

[maegorsbignaturals]

Saying "Jamie and Cersei are Dragonseeds" but in the sense that Aerys got Tywin pregnant vía Valyrian magic

[vigilante24ish]

The Shadow Queen of Tywin Lannister

Summary:

After the death of his wife, Tywin Lannister knew he would never remarry. However, when the relationships between Targaryens & Lannisters are put into question, marriage seems to be the only choice left. To his surprise, it is himself that will get married to none other than the King’s younger sister.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pairing: Fem!OC x Tywin Lannister Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Blood & Injuries

Chapter 3: A Dragon Can Thrive Anywhere

Chapter 5: An Unofficial Alliance

Chapter 4: The Return of the Dragon Princess

272 AC – King’s Landing, Crownlands – Seat of Power: Aerys II Targaryen

It has been 10 years since Aerys II rose to power, and the realm will not forget about it anytime soon. To celebrate such an important event, Tywin planned an anniversary tourney in the name of the King.

The celebrations were grand, with different competitions taking place, such as Archery, Spear Throwing and the Jousting Tourney of Knights. Hedge Knights and Lords from all corners of the Western World had arrived to participate and show their loyalty to the King.

Yet, it was Tywin who seemed to gain the favouritism of the people. They cheered for him louder than they did for their King as rumours kept spreading of who truly had the power between the two.

While Aerys had been selfish with his needs and too close-minded to rule properly, Tywin had earned the respect of Lords and peasants alike for his smart thinking and his ability to bring back gold on multiple occasions, ensuring the coffers were never empty.

The King sat on the Royal booth with his wife and his remaining family members. Visenya had also been invited, but a Raven had been sent the day prior, informing the King that she had fallen Ill and was unable to travel.

This left Tywin to be alone amongst the Targaryen, if not for his dear wife, who had also come along with the 6-year-old Twins, Cersei & Jamie. The King often stole glances at Joanna Lannister, known by now that the Targaryen male had a liking for pretty women and often took mistresses in his chambers.

Tywin had noticed and had tried his best to keep his body as a barrier, obstructing most of the King’s view of his wife. It did not settle well with him, but his focus shifted fully once the Jousting Tournament began.

Among the knights participating, there were two that stood out the most; The Lannister Lion and the Targaryen Dragon. Kevan Lannister, younger brother of Tywin, had chosen to participate in the Tournament, and so did Crown Prince Rhaegar, despite being only 14 namedays old.

Aerys did not mind that his son participated, having full hopes that he would take down all of his opponents and show everyone the might of the Targaryen and the strong genes passed down to him by his father, the King.

Tywin glanced at the participants, his eyes momentarily falling on his brother, but then his eyes fell on the Crown Prince. Dressed in full black armour, the helmet obstructed almost the full face and only allowed the eyes to be visible through the slit. The pattern of Dragon was carved on it and Dark Sister was sheathed by the side.

What struck him odd, however, was the size of the crown prince. Some might say it was the fact that he was on top of a horse, but Tywin would share that the Prince was not that tall, at least not yet.

He did not comment anything on it and instead watched in silence as the Jousting began.

The crowd went wild as the Crown Prince managed to unseat yet another opponent, this time being Tywin’s brother. Joanna could not help but pull a face faintly at the rough landing of her good brother and cousin.

By her side, Jaime was practically beaming with excitement as he leaned on the wooden railing and watched the knights with fascination. His sister, on the other hand, did not seem to share his interest and instead looked around her bored.

Many found it impressive that the boy who had just reached his 14th name day had managed to do so well in the Tournament. Yet again, he had been unseated several times but had always managed to recover or finish the battle with swords on the ground.

In the end, only two were left standing before the victor was crowned: Rhaegar and a mysterious Hedge Knight. Bearing no sigil, the mystery man had come and had taken down all of his opponents to reach standing across from the Crown Prince.

This mystery and the change of odds kept both the King and the crowd focused, especially as the two knights prepared their jousting spears. The Mystery Knight rode on a black stallion that seemed uneasy despite his rider's strong grip.

Rhaegar, on the other hand, rode a white stallion, something that had also struck Tywin odd since the prince favoured a brown mare instead. Yet, the mare remained calm despite the shouts of the crowd or the noise around it, matching the confidence of her rider.

The signal was given and both riders wasted no time to charge, their horses turning fast from trot into a gallop while their jousting spears were lifted and ready. Once within reach, both struck a strong hit on their opponents and the result was both knights falling to the ground at the same time.

Quickly standing up, the mystery knight took out his sword and asked for a shield to be passed to him. Complying with his request, Rhaegar drew his sword and was given a slightly smaller shield than his opponent, who towered above him.

In seconds, their blades clashed against one another, and a fierce battle occurred. Blades smacked against shields, creating dents and numbing the holder’s hand or blade that met the blade in a battle of dominance and strength.

Rhaegar might be tall for his age but lacked the strength to compete against the beast that was now his opponent. To make up for it, the young Prince remained swift on his feet and spent most of his time dodging, aiming to tire his opponent.

Eventually, both dropped their shields and stood panting while holding their swords. Sweat rolled down their backs due to the blazing heat above and the weight of their armour, but no one dared to back down.

The mystery knight charged, his swings long but heavy, aiming to take the head of the prince, or at least it looked like it to some. Yet, the prince was quick and kept dodging or blocking with his own sword to ensure no true damage would happen.

His opponent eventually grew too tired, his moves sloppy, and an opening was presented shortly after. With the agility of a snake, the prince ducked beneath his opponent's arm and turned his body.

His shoulder met his chest plate, and despite the pain from the rough contact, he went for a strong push. At the same time, his own blade smacked at the base of his opponent, making him drop his sword before falling backwards to the ground.

The crowd cheered, going wild at the victory of the young prince, who seemed to have knocked down all of his opponents despite his young age. The king was practically glowing with pride, taking those praises of himself since his son had just won.

He looked with pride as the Prince walked towards his booth, his sword dragged faintly by his side, but there were no signs of injury to him. As the Prince approached, he finally lifted his head, and Tywin quickly took notice of his eyes through the slit.

Rhaegar had his parents' violet eyes, the famous eyes of every Targaryen, but those that looked at them were actually a burning amber. Before he could even truly process the fact, a scream was heard from the crowd.

The supposed defeated knight had started to get up as a cloaked figure was finally visible from between the peasants. The sign of an arrow was caught before it was released, quickly embedding itself in the Prince’s left shoulder, right in the unprotected spot between his shoulder and his arm.

People gasped, and the King’s Guard quickly rushed to hunt and take down the archer, who had started to run away. At the same time, the mystery knight grabbed his sword and aimed an attack at the wounded prince.

“Rhaegar!” His mother shouted with worry, a warning sign for the injured prince.

Looking down, he spotted his opponent's shadow behind him, and he quickly ducked to the side, avoiding the sword aimed at the back of his neck. Grabbing his sword, he ignored the pain coming from the arrow embedded into his shoulder and started to block the aggressive hits coming from his opponent.

Another man with a sword jumped into the arena as the crowd started to flee out of terror and fought a King’s Guard, who had tried to stop him.

“Guards! Take him down!” Aerys shouted, but most of his men either tried to fight through the fleeting crowd or had gone after the assassin with the arrow.

The Prince was busy trying to deflect and dodge but was losing the battle, too tired and injured to be an effective fighter at the moment.

Wasting no time, Tywin unsheathed his own sword and jumped from the booth into the arena. He had already fought a war and had both the experience and the energy to take down their latest intruder.

With long strides, he managed to reach the second mysterious knight and quickly started to push him back with his calculated and effective attacks. The man might have pure strength to back him up, but the Lion had the experience and intelligence to give him an edge on the battlefield.

It did not take long to push his opponent to the ground with the help of an injured King’s Guard, who had refused to back down despite his bleeding side. Just then, the sound of people gasping made him look behind him, his green eyes opening wider at the sight.

The Mystery Knight had managed to grab one of the fallen shields and smacked it against the head of the Prince, confusing him for a moment and weakening him as well. He had then tried to attack but in a last attempt, the Prince moved backwards as much as he could.

His helm was damaged and was pressuring his head too much, the dent of the shield visible on its dark structure. Getting annoyed and tired, he removed his helmet and let his white hair fall freely on his back.

The gasps came from the Royal booth and some people that had remained to watch because the one under the armour was never Prince Rhaegar himself but his aunt, Visenya II Targaryen.

She spit some blood from the ground and grabbed the chance her opponent was frozen by the revelation to strike him on the hand that held his shield. Hitting on the inside where the leather straps were, her sword cut both the straps and the man’s hand.

His cries of pain echoed across the open arena as he dropped his sword and held his now bleeding hand, his wrist and below having been cut by the valyrian steel blade of the princess.

Visenya kicked the man on the ground with her boot and pressed on his chest, her sharp blade stopping inches away from his covered face. Her chest heaved up and down, the blood from her wound having stained her clothes from beneath her armour, and there was this faint ringing in her right ear, but she kept glaring at him with those burning orbs as if she would unleash fire upon him like the Dragon she was.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

After the events that took place in the Tourney, the royal family gathered in the King’s Study, or at least some of them. Rhaella was not allowed and had instead rushed to find her son, who had not appeared during the Tourney.

Aerys stood with his back turned on his younger sister, his rage visible by the stiffness of his back muscles and the tightening of his hands into fists. The only other person present was Tywin, who, as Hand of the King, was allowed to remain.

The sudden sound of a fist against a wooden surface snapped everyone’s attention as the King turned to face his sister. His violet eyes were blazing with anger, and he felt the need to cut her head off for the trouble she had caused him.

“What in the 7 gotten into you? Lying to me of being ill, replacing my son in the tournament and humiliating every single Lord that participated!” he spat, his lips having formed a snarl.

Yet despite his temper or his glare, Visenya did not seem to bend under the pressure nor cower in a corner. She kept her head lifted, still dressed in armour and with the arrow pinned to her shoulder. Whether she felt the pain by now or not, was not visible on her face as her amber eyes glowed with determination.

“I was protecting our family”, she explained, her voice not once rising an octave. “I heard words of a planned assassination attempt for Rhaegar in the Tourney. So, I returned in secrecy and persuaded Rhaegar to take his place to draw out the assassin, which in the end I did.”

The rage of the King seemed to only be ignited by her words. She had moved behind his back, planned something that he was not aware of and all in the name of rumours?

Furious, he stood in front of her, and in seconds, the sound of a slap echoed in the silent room.

The King had lifted his hand and had delivered a powerful strike, his ring cutting her cheek as Visenya’s head was thrown to the side from the force. Yet, when she turned her head to look at him again, not a single tear was visible, and there was no sign of fear.

“I have been linear with you, Visenya, but do not chase your luck”, he spat, his hand trembling and itching to deliver another strike. “Do not ever think of going against my back again. I am the King! I decide what is to be done, and no one else! Are we clear?”

Visenya did not once break eye contact with him; his yelling did not affect her, however. She glared silently at the disrespect and his tone, getting a good idea of how the power of the crown had infected his mind.

While never close with one another, Aerys had never lifted a hand or talked to her that way. He mostly ignored her or scolded her when they were younger but he had never crossed that line. Based on the bruises she spotted on their sister, it was obvious that Visenya was not the only one facing his new temper.

Since he was still waiting for an answer, Visenya gave a small bow. “Your Grace,” she said and wasted no time to walk out of the room.

Tywin had remained in the room to watch as the interaction between Brother and Sister flared, but only one-sided. Curious of her plan, he listened as she explained her reasonings; although they were quite vague.

Based on the limited intelligence of the King, it was perhaps better not to go into details, and she did not, hiding her source completely from him.

Her reasoning was fair, and she had indeed saved the boy’s life, for if the Prince had managed to win or was given an opening, that arrow would have ended his life. If it would not be the arrow, it would be one of the two men who had decided to charge and take his life with a sword.

She had risked her life to protect her nephew, knowing fully well that there would be consequences from the King once he realised that he had been left in the dark, and they did come.

Yet Tywin would have never imagined them coming that way. When the slap landed on her cheek, his green eyes glared dangerously at the King, the golden flecks within glowing like molten gold.

Lifting a hand on your own relative because of your fragile ego was not something he approved. Visenya had done her duty to the crown and to her family, keeping the prince safe and yet the King thought he could lift his hand upon her like that.

As he expected, the Dragoness did not budge, nor did she shed any tears. The slap had injured her cheek, and there was the arrow on her shoulder, but she did not move a single foot. She kept her ground, her head held high with the pride of a Targaryen, and her eyes remained cold on the face of her brother and King.

By the tensing of her jaw, it was clear that she despised such treatment and disrespect but she was no fool. She knew that she could not go against the king despite their relationship.

Based on his shouting, it was clear to both of them that the one wearing the crown was unfit to do so, yet none truly had the power to do anything.

Ultimately, she gave a courtesy bow and retreated, letting the two men watch her leave. One glared daggers at her back, and the other watched with silent admiration at her control while questions flowed in his mind like a swarm of flies.

[countrymusiclover]

12 - Guilty of being a Dwarf

Part 13

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

If y'all readers ever have ideas my ask box is totally open for them or feedback

Jaime’s pov

“This isn't a trial.  It's a farce. Cersei has manipulated everything and you know it.” Following my father into his office chamber I knew this trial had to be changed. There's no way Tyrion would live if this kept going on for much longer. 

Father denied my response. “I know nothing of the sort.”

“You've always hated Tyrion.”

“He killed his king.” My father raised his voice. 

“As did I!  Do you know the last order the Mad King gave me? To bring him your head.” I raised my voice in defense thinking back on the night I murdered the Mad King. “I saved your life so you could mirder my brother?”

He tapped his fingers on the desk, seeing that I didn't agree. “It won't be murder. It'll be justice. I'm performing my sworn duty as Hand of the King. If Tyrion is found guilty, he will be punished accordingly.” 

“He'll be executed.”

“No, he'll be punished accordingly.” He said back to me. 

Lowering my gaze to the ground I knew there was only one thing that could save both my brother and my princess from harm's way. “Once you said family is what lives on. All that lives on.  You told me about a dynasty that would last 1,000 years. What happens to your dynasty when Tyrion dies? I'm a Kingsguard, forbidden by oath to carry on the family line.” 

“I'm well aware of your oath.” Father grumbled under his breath. 

“What happens to your name? Who carries the lion banner into future battles? Your nephews? Lancel Lannister? Others whose names I don't even remember?”

My father snapped back at me. “What happens to my dynasty if I spare the life of my grandson's killer?”

“It survives through me.” Closing my eyes briefly I knew I'd joined the Kingsguard for Cersei but now I'd leave it all behind to be with Vaella. “I'll leave the Kingsguard. I'll take my place as your son and heir if you let Tyrion live.”

“Done.  When the testimony's concluded and a guilty verdict rendered, Tyrion will be given the chance to speak.  He'll plead for mercy. I'll allow him to join the Night's Watch.  In three days' time, he'll depart for Castle Black and live out his days at the Wall.” Father answered so quickly that I wasn’t sure how to react. “You'll remove your white cloak immediately.  You will leave King's Landing to assume your rightful place at Casterly Rock.  You will marry a suitable woman and father children named Lannister.  And you'll never turn your back on your family again.” 

“I have one condition on who I'll marry.” I dropped my shoulders heavily knowing there was taking the words back after this. “Vaella Targaryen is who I shall marry and no one else.” 

“The Targaryen's are all gone.” 

I shook my head no. “That’s not true. I've been helping her hide since the day I killed her father.  You wouldn't recognize her since she hides her hair underneath a bandanna and sticks to the shadows of the Red Keep.” 

“Where is she at this very moment?” 

I answered my father simply. “Looking at the Iron Throne.” 

Vaella’s pov 

Everyone else had cleared the large room leaving me time alone t9 stare at the familiar Throne before me.  I remembered my father spending his days and nights sitting upon it.  I remembered the day he sent my mother away and the declaration that she had died shortly before my father was stabbed in the back literally. “I wish you got the chance to meet your grandchild, mother.  I wish you could've met your niece or nephew as well, Rhaegar.” 

I remained standing a few feet away from the Iron Throne room knowing that the next part of Tyrion’s trial would take place that morning. Everyone in this city believed he killed him, except for Jaime and I.   Two white cloak guards made their way up to me and I went to curtesy until one of them grabbed me by the arm and the other took hold of my left arm where I knew something was wrong. “Ser's, what is the meaning of this?” 

“The Hand of the King wishes to see you, handmaiden.” One responded. 

I grunted against their tight grips. “What could he want with me?” 

“He didn't say. We were just sent to retrieve you.” 

I spit in the one guards face doing my best to get away from them. “Like hell you will!” I thrashed and kicking against them until the second guard pushed me body between his and the nearest stone wall. 

“We're twice your size, girl.  Stop fighting before this only gets worse.” 

He released his grip and I huffed letting them escort me to the Hand of the King's chambers even though I recalled where it was. The two guards pushed me inside and I collapsed into familiar areas when the door slammed shut. “Ahh! Jaime.” 

“Did they hurt you?” He cupped my faxe in his hands so I could feel the golden hand against my cheek. 

Shaking my head I gently gripped his wrists with my fingernails worried what was happening. “Just tossed me around a bit. Nothing I can't handle. But I don't understand  - what is going on?” 

“My son tells me you're the last Targaryen daughter of Aerys II that still lives in Westeros. Is this true girl?” Tywin Lannister's voice met my ears and a shiver ran through my whole body. 

“Yes, my lord it is true.” 

Tyein commands me. “Provie it to me.” 

“Vae,  it's to save Tyrion-” Jaime trailed off. 

“It's okay.” Stepping away from him I raised my hands behind my head undoing the knot on the bandanna, letting my long silver hair cascade down my back and in front of my shoulders. “Name how many people who have this hair, my lord.” 

The lord of the Rock leans back in his chair. “I have sent for you because my son has declared that you are to wed to save his dwarf brother.  You will travel to Casterly Rock with my son and become Lady Lannister.  You will bear his children and further House Lannister and if you refuse you will suffer the same fate as the other Targaryen children. Do I make myself clear?” 

“I’m already with child, my lord.  His child to be exact.” I nervously twirled the ring necklace around in my fingers before lowering one hand down to my belly. 

Tywin focused his gaze on his eldest son and almost showed a smile before he let us go. “There may be hope for you yet, boy.” 

Jaime and I had entered the throne room together side by side heading over to the dwarf on the stand who clearly saw the concerned loom across my face. “Not going well, is it?”

“You're going to be found guilty.” Jaime uttered bluntly. 

Tyrion chuckled dryly. “Oh, you think so?”

“When you are, you need to enter a formal plea for mercy and ask to be sent to the Wall. Father's agreed to it.  He'll spare your life and allow you to join the Night's Watch” Jaime switched his tone needing him to understand the plan. 

Tyrion began to understand but was hesitant. “Ned Stark was promised the same thing and we both knowhow that turned out.��

“Father is not Joffrey. He'll keep his word.” Jaime and Tyrion shifts their gaze seeing Cersei sitting back down. 

Tyrion asked him. “How do you know?”

“Do you trust me?  Keep your mouth shut. No more outbursts. This will all be over soon.” Jaime asked him watching his brother give a slight head nod yes in agreement before we moved to stand a few feet away from the throne but still in front of the crowd of people. 

Tyrion’s girlfriend had come on the stand as the final witness and that's when he just lost it lowering his head muttering under his breath. “I wish to confess.  I wish... to confess.”

“You wish to confess?” Tywin asked when the crowd fell quiet. 

“I saved you. I saved this city and all your worthless lives.”  Tyrion turned his attention to the crowd behind him. “I should have let Stannis kill you all.”

Tywin warned with his tone. “Tyrion. Do you wish to confess?”

“Yes, Father. I'm guilty. Guilty. Is that what you want to hear?”

Tywin questions him. “You admit you poisoned the king?”

“No, of that I'm innocent.  I'm guilty of a far more monstrous crime. I am guilty of being a dwarf.”

‘You are not on trial for being a dwarf.” Tywin rolled his eyes annoyed. 

Tyrion snarled back. “Oh, yes, I am. I've been on trial for that my entire life.”

“Have you nothing to say in your defense?” Tywin wasn't sure how long this trial would go on for. 

“Nothing but this-- I did not do it.  I did not kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had.  Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than 1,000 lying whores.” Tyrion faced his gaze on his older sister who leaned forward in her chair before he shouted a threat at the citizens of King's Landing stood. “I wish I was the monster you think I am.  I wish I had enough poison for the whole pack of you.  I would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.”

Tywin quickly rose up from his seat on the Iron Throne. “Ser Meryn. Ser Meryn. Escort the prisoner back to his cell.”

“I will not give my life for Joffrey's murder.  And I know I'll get no justice here.  So I will let the gods decide my fate.  I demand a trial by combat.” Tyrion challenges his father causing me to grasp Jaime’s hand in mine not really concerned who saw, more worried for the life of my friend and brother in law before my eyes. 

[fromtheboundlesssea]

No King At All Chapter 97

Celia XXXXIX (276 AC)

[gulnarsultan]

Modern Reader: Would you stop acting like an idiot for once? Seriously it’s annoying.😒

Aerys II: Who are you to tell me what to do?! I am the King! I can do whatever I want! And you are getting on my nerves!😡🤬

Modern Reader: OH? I’M getting on your nerves?! Oh I’m sorry about that, you stupid old man. It’s not my fault that you act STUPID, PETTY, PARANOID, JEALOUS AND HORRIBLE! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!🤬🤬🤬

Aerys II: HOW DARE YOU TO CALL ME THAT?!! I WILL REMOVE YOUR TONGUE FOR THIS!!!🤬

Modern Reader: GO ON, OLD MAN! DO IT! BECAUSE NO ONE WOULD TELL YOU THE TRUTH!!! WHAT THE HECK HAS HAPPENED TO A MAN WHO FOUGHT IN A WAR NINE PENNY KINGS?! SINCE WHEN YOU STARTED TO MISTREAT YOUR BEST FRIEND TYWIN LANNISTER AND OTHERS?! YOU, AERYS TARGARYEN SECOND OF YOUR NAME KING OF SEVEN KINGDOMS AND PROTECTOR OF THE REALM, ARE HURTING YOUR WIFE, SUSPECT YOUR SON OVER NOTHING, BROKE YOUR FRIENDSHIP WITH TYWIN LANNISTER AND NOW YOU JUST CONTINUE TO DO HORRIBLE THINGS IN THE END DESTROYING YOUR DYNASTY!!! ALL BECAUSE YOU ARE AN ARROGANT AND PARANOID FOOL, WHO IS WORRIED OVER NOTHING!🤬

Aerys II:…….(quiet)

Modern Reader: …. Is this what you want? People to be afraid of you? Children being afraid of their father? Is this what you truly want, Your Grace?

Modern Reader sighs😔: Listen, Your Grace. I understand that you are jealous of my father, but you shouldn’t be. He is the Hand of the King, well was after what you’ve done. All I want is for my family to be safe and for you to get back to your senses because it won’t end well for you and anyone. So at least allow someone to help you or at least stop treating people horrible. The more you hurt them, the more they hate you and your children. Do you understand what I say, Your Grace? I’m NOT your enemy, all what I did was to protect my family from you, because you would harm them. And now I want to at least try to help you, because I want to know why you are doing all of this. If you want we can talk alone with nobody around.

My goodness, the dialogue between Modern Reader and Aerys II is something. I think everyone would hear them, imagine Yandere platonic Tywin, Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion, also Rhaella and Rhaegar to hear all of this. Can you write their reactions and feelings about the scenario I wrote above? Please? Thank you.

P.S.: I think Aerys would listen to Modern Reader, although I’m not sure 🤔

I think you are right. It will most likely be this speech in the scene where reader , Aerys corrects the appearance. Tywin will feel very lucky to have such a smart kid. He's so proud. However, he worries that King will become an enemy to the reader after these words. Jaime, Cersei and Tyrion are literally so proud of the reader. They show everyone that they have such a wonderful sister. Rhaella is grateful to the reader for showing her husband the right path. Rhaegaer has deep sympathy for the reader. He thinks the reader is brave enough to face the king.

[maelisdrafts]

Our Secret Garden - Prologue

An Oberyn Martell x f!oc fiction

Synopsis:

This is the tale of two souls as different as fire and ice, snow and sand—two opposites who seem destined never to coexist. How could they ever find harmony? The odds are stacked against them, their differences insurmountable. Yet, every so often, Fate steps in with a twist, transforming the impossible into reality. After all, even the harshest deserts have, on rare occasions, been graced by snow. And sometimes, against all logic, opposites don’t just attract—they create something extraordinary.

Masterlist

Oberyn I - 279 AC

Oberyn always thrived in big crowds. He loved the loudness and the attention that came with it. However, tonight, he couldn’t find it in himself to enjoy the party. He should have been happy; after all, it was his dear sister’s wedding to a prince—a match only little girls dared to dream of. But that was exactly the problem. Elia was now married to Prince Rhaegar, the Mad King’s son. And now, his sister was to live in King’s Landing, surrounded by danger, while he and his brother remained in Dorne, the sea separating them.

Oberyn was worried, and he couldn’t do anything about it. In the middle of the room, Elia was dancing in the arms of her husband, a wide smile decorating her face. She was glowing. The marriage was sealed, the vows had been said, and yet Oberyn couldn’t help but feel as though he had failed his little sister—the one he had sworn to protect many moons ago.

With his head lost in thoughts, Oberyn moved towards the gardens. He needed to get away from the overwhelming sounds he usually enjoyed so much. Once outside, the loudness faded, and finally, he could breathe. He looked around him.

“How disappointing,” he thought. These royal gardens were nothing compared to the Water Gardens waiting for him in Dorne. How he wished he could go back in time, back to when Elia and he would spend endless hours watching the night sky and admiring the stars.

He started walking away from the castle, stopping in front of a fountain. Atop it stood a dragon, an eternal reminder of the ruling family that had just taken the most important part of him away. After glaring at the statue for gods know how long, he finally tore his gaze away and began walking deeper into the garden, farther from the celebrations.

As he looked around carelessly, his eyes stopped on the bushes at the far end of the gardens. As he inspected it a bit closer, he noticed an opening breaking the perfect symmetry of the vegetation. Oberyn glanced back at the party. It likely wouldn’t end until the early hours of the morning, and it was barely past midnight. He figured he had time for a small excursion. Besides, he was too intrigued to walk away.

Was it curiosity driving him, or perhaps the wine? He knew he had indulged in one too many glasses, clouding his better judgment. But he didn't care. He needed that distraction.

Hesitantly, the newly titled prince approached the opening. Once he stood next to it, he noted that the top of the gap reached just a bit higher than his thighs. He looked down at his attire: a yellow robe, the color of his house, similar to the ones he wore back home, except for the intricate golden details sewn to form little suns stabbed by spears—the symbols of House Martell. On his belt, instead of a simple loop, there was the head of a viper with rubies for eyes. His clothes must have taken an incredible amount of time to craft, yet despite his respect for the robe’s makers, he felt no guilt as he lowered himself to the ground. Curiosity had won.

But was it really curiosity fueling his actions, or was it his need to escape his reality, to keep his mind occupied with something—anything—else? He didn’t know, and truthfully, it didn’t matter.

As he crossed the threshold, his eyes widened at the scene unfolding before him. Bathed in moonlight, at the heart of a small clearing, stood a gazebo crafted delicately from the finest metal. Vegetation had taken over, with the reddest flowers he had ever seen climbing over its roof. In the background, at the bottom of the cliff that marked the garden’s edge, the relentless sea crashed against the shore, creating an ethereal rhythm.

As Oberyn drew closer to the intricate structure, he noticed a statue standing between the gazebo and the abyss. Intrigued, he walked toward it. The statue depicted a woman, carved so realistically it seemed as if she might move at any moment.

A soft breeze began, likely stirred by the waves, guided by the moon.

Oberyn stopped breathing.

The woman, whom he had thought carved from the most exquisite marble, came to life. It started with her hair, gently swayed by the wind, then her arms, which moved to wrap around her body to shield herself from the chill.

Oberyn, as if in a trance, took a step forward—and accidentally made his presence known as his foot snapped a twig beneath it.

Startled by the sound, the woman turned to face him. The young prince froze.

Their eyes met, and he couldn’t help but think that the lady before him, with her startled, doe-like gaze, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her skin was pearly white, perfectly complemented by her dress, which seemed to glow under the moonlight. Her hair was the darkest shade of black, deeper than a night devoid of stars and moon. And her lips… gods, her lips. The red flowers adorning the gazebo paled in comparison.

Her chestnut eyes were locked on his, and all he could do was pray they would never look away. Why were the gods granting him this sight? He couldn’t comprehend it. This, surely, must be the heavens so many longed for.

As he marvelled at her beauty, he heard the most enchanting sound—a voice more divine than the intricate melodies played at the party.

“Who are you?” she asked, her words carried on the breeze.

“Oberyn Martell,” he answered after a pause, stumbling over his words under the weight of her gaze. “Who are you?” he asked in return, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

The breeze carried his question to her, and once more, she spoke:

“Eira Stark.”

[teapartywithmadhatter]

In which, Aerys accepts Tywin's suggestion, but in the most twisted way, but he shall regret the day he humiliated Tywin Lannister and threatened his children's lives for Lannisters always pay their debts.

“You want your daughter to be Queen? You want to tie our Houses through marriage? I'd promised that to you, hadn't I? Well, now is the time to be fulfilled, we shall have a royal wedding.” 

He announced it to everyone.

It should have been a sort of apology from the King for slighting Tywin by making his heir, his golden boy, a Kingsguard, but nobody understood why the King , despite reminding of his novel promise to his old time friend, had a cruel smile on his face or a glint in his eyes. Nor why Lord Tywin Lannister had turned pale and stoned-face by the promise of the King which turns other Lords and their daughters and sisters green with envy.

Meanwhile other noble maidens and ladies are trying to spot Cersei Lannister amongst the occupants, but she is not in sight.

But the realisation dawned upon them with the next words that came out of the King's mouth,

"is it not good, Tywin, to have your longtime friend as your goodson?"

Queen Rhaella dies during her pregnancy, leaving the kingdom with only one Prince for the succession. 

Tywin Lannister did not answer, but everyone wondered if it was from the fears of the lives of his children.

[novaursa]

What is secluded to be posted tomorrow:

A Lion's Leap (credit's due) - targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

The Flames We Loved (to devour) - daughter!reader/father!Aerys II Targaryen

[greycloudsinwinter]

Yandere Tywin Lannister and first wife Targaryen reader.

YANDERE TYWIN LANNISTER X TARGERYAN READER

🦁you were the mad kings sister however you did not marry aerys due to the large age gap (12 years) . However you still needed a suitable husband and who better then your brothers hand ?

🦁at first he marries you for political reasons but when he starts asking you questions and understanding you better he realises what a perfect person you are.

🦁gifts you the most expensive things in the world.

🦁loves to play games with you such as chess etc.

🦁when he duels anyone he needs you there because you make him powerful.

🦁try and escape from him and he will lock you away for years and maybe even break your bones until you plead for him to stop.

🦁when roberts rebellion starts he makes Robert swear he won’t touch you or yours and his children since they have targeryan blood.

🦁he wants children boys to be exact but he will never forgive himself or the child if yku died given birth.

🦁has so SO many paintings of you .

🦁he will only write a few love letters to you not loads because he fears that someone else may find them.

🦁likes it when you call him my king (even though he isn’t) because it makes him feel powerful.

🦁he is an unhinged yandere willing to do anything to have you stay with him and that means anything…

🦁just above the middle of worst yanderes to have…

Thank you for this request ❤️❤️

[syndrossi]

What are a few Game of Thrones x House of the Dragon (or Fire & Blood) characters you'd like to put on the page together? (Even if just in brainstorming land rather than actual writing land.)

Fot example, I'm excited to see more of Ned (and all the Starks) with the twins, but I also think an Olenna-Daemon scene could be So Much Fun. 🤩

Olenna would be so unimpressed with Daemon, at least from a "plays the game" standpoint. He's very to-the-point, my-way-or-die, GRRR SMASH. On the one hand, that can be useful, because such people are easy to manipulate (especially once she's pinpointed that his sons are his weakness).

I would put Daemon x most AGOT characters pretty high up there for Restoration AU. 😅 Daemon x all the Dorne players especially. Daemon and Tywin in the same room would be...something. Daemon and the Tullys.

Daemon + Aerys = some kind of crater being left behind.

Rhaegar + Sam nerding out.

Oooh, forget Daemon and Olenna, Rhaenys and Olenna. (Corlys and...anyone, really. Oberyn? Heck, Ned?)

Rhaenyra and Dany.

Jon Connington and restoration!Rhaegar (or Daemon-claiming-to-be-Rhaegar).

Jon's already interacted with so many AGOT characters that it's hard for me to pick any for him... (Jon coming face to face with Lord Frey, tho. Or Jon and the Blackfish.)

Rhaella and Baelon. Don't ask me why, I just feel like he'd be so sweet to her.

[vigilante24ish]

The Shadow Queen of Tywin Lannister

Summary:

After the death of his wife, Tywin Lannister knew he would never remarry. However, when the relationships between Targaryens & Lannisters are put into question, marriage seems to be the only choice left. To his surprise, it is himself who will get married to none other than the King’s younger sister.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Pairing: Fem!OC x Tywin Lannister Chapter Warnings: None

Previous - Chapter 27: The Last Dragon Next - Chapter 29: A Lion Always Defends Its Mate.

Chapter 28: The Rage of a Lion

The letters from the battle with the results were spread across the 7 Kingdoms faster than Wildfire would through a dried-up forest. One of them made its way to Tywin, who had to learn of what had become of his wife.

Anyone who truly knew Tywin Lannister would say they had seen him angry on rare occasions. Many would comment that his eyes glowed like those of a hungry lion and others said that he never raised his voice but transmitted his anger through the air.

Even his own family had seen what his anger could truly do and to whom it would be unleashed upon.

Yet none was ever prepared for the rage that would follow upon receiving that letter.

At first, there was silence and the only thing that changed was his breathing pattern. Then, there was this tension by the side of his temple, a vein almost popping from the internal pressure as his jaw clenched to the point numbness could be felt.

The hand that held the letter tightened and twisted it, the faintest of shaking barely visible to the naked eye. Then, there was the rage in his grown orbs as his own eyes darkened dangerously.

“Everyone...out!” he ordered, his voice booming across the room louder than ever before.

His gaze was blazing, his instincts going wild, and he felt the need to wrap his hands around the neck of the first person in range.

Per his orders, all of his siblings left, except for Kevan. Despite the fit of anger, the second Lannister brother had chosen to remain. He took the now crumbled piece of paper from the desk and read it, fully understanding the reasoning behind his anger.

Tywin was furious and he did not know who to blame first, to whom to redirect his anger and who was responsible for all of this.

The first person to come into his mind was Aerys. The mad king had started it all by refusing his idea to marry Cersei to Rhaegar. If he had done that, the boy would have never left to steal that Stark girl. Then, he had to kill all those Northern Nobles and the Starks; that ended with the North aligning with Robert in this stupid Rebellion.

Then, of course, he could and should blame the Crown Prince himself. The not-so-innocent boy that had started this rebellion by following his cock over his mind. The same boy who had asked for his dear aunt to come and save him, eventually leading to her capture.

He then felt the need to blame Visenya for she was not so innocent in all of this. Her stubbornness led her that way when she refused to remain in Casterly Rock and instead joined the war. He had made her promise to stay out of the fight and flee. Instead, she stayed and even clashed with Robert to protect that naive nephew of hers.

A little voice at the back of his mind felt Tywin bore a part of the blame. He could have easily denied Visenya’s request, he could have locked her in her chambers and held her there. He hadn’t truly stopped her, too cocky to believe that the Dragoness would not be able to live up to her promise.

His breathing slowly returned to normal but every part of his body was tense, his jaw numb as he finally unclenched it. He turned his gaze to finally look at his brother, who looked at him with the faintest of concern.

“Prepare the men, Kevan. Once they are ready, we leave for King’s Landing” he ordered, a plan already in mind.

Now that Visenya was a prisoner, it would not take long for Robert to reach King’s Landing. If he took it before him, it would complicate stuff and put his house in a tough position.

But if the Lannisters managed to take the city for him, it would be a good start and he already thought of that ‘gift’ they could present to the young Stag to save his House and his wife.

As his brother left the room, Tywin glared at the piece of parchment that carried that dreadful news. Yet, his mind was not focused on the letters but on the condition of Visenya, herself.

He knew Robert was not stupid enough to execute her now but the letter had informed him that she had been injured in battle. The mere thought of finding her in a bad and injured state, made his blood boil.

If Robert Baratheon had dared to truly harm her, Tywin would have ended his era before it even began.

For Visenya was his and his alone, no one had the right to lay a hand on her except him. No one had the right to harm her and live to tell the tale.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The Red Keep, CrownLands – 20 days since the Battle of the Trident

Aerys had been sitting on his iron throne, his eyes filled with madness and paranoia. He was the first to receive the news of the battle in the Trident, from the first to learn of Rhaegar’s death and Visenya’s capture.

He knew that Robert was marching his way and he had long closed the Gates of King’s Landing, sealing himself and the people inside the tall walls.

The only person to truly leave was pregnant Rhaella and Viserys, who had been sent to Dragonstone with Ser Willem for their safety.

With Rhaegar gone, Viserys was the next in line to take the throne and his life could not be risked.

Elia and her two children remained in King’s Landing because, despite the battle reports, Aerys truly believed in his paranoia that  Lewyn Martell had betrayed him. He could not let his more valuable asset go, not with Robert and his rebels about to knock on his door.

His only supporter in this madness was surprisingly a former associate of Visenya; Wisdom Rossart. For a while, Visenya had been away in Casterly Rock, and then the war, Aerys' little whisperer, known as Varys, had found out what the precious little princess was hiding.

His birds had found the connection to the Alchemist Guild, who had kept producing Wildfire and improving it; waiting for the next time their patron would request it.

Once Aerys found out, he had their leader thrown by the base of the Iron Throne and threatened.

Wisdom Rossart was a man with such sadism and madness in his eyes that even Varys felt uneasy in his presence and that was an achievement. The Maester Alchemist did not seem to worry about the threats and was more than happy to change alliances, going into details about the creation and effects of Wildfire.

When it was exposed that Visenya was behind the scheme, Aerys was so furious that he went into a coughing fit. He knew that his sister often worked behind his back but this felt like the biggest betrayal he could suffer.

Whatever little trust he had kept for her was now long gone as his paranoia got the best of him.

Aerys knew that Robert would come for him, so he instructed Rossart to start piling up barrels of wildfire all over the city. If anyone thought they could march into King’s Landing like that, then he would remind them how impossible the task was.

Such an idea was so horrific that his current hand, Lord Qarlton Chelsted, tried to change the King’s mind. When he found out that his attempts were fruitless, he resigned and attempted to flee only to be caught and burnt by the same wildfire the King had started to worship.

Seeing the bright green flames and smelling the burnt flesh clouded the king’s weak judgement and all he could imagine now was the burning smell of his enemies and the rebels.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Eventually, after days of waiting behind closed gates, the first signs of an army appeared at the door. However, it was not Robert and his men but an ally from the past that Aerys did not expect to see.

Tywin Lannister sat on top of his black stallion, behind him a loyal army of 12.000 men from the Westernlands. The Proud Lion of Casterly Rock conveyed messages to the King, presenting himself as an ally and that he was there to help defend the King.

To many, it would be obvious that it was a trap but not to Aerys. For upon reading his letter, he could not help but remember how loyal Tywin had been to him all those years. He had taken most of his power, but he had never betrayed him.

“Your Grace, I do not think it is wise to open the Gates to them,” Varys said from his position at the base of the throne, his hands hidden inside the connected sleeves of his robes.

“They are our allies, Your Grace,” Maester Pycelle argued. “By marriage in front of the 7, Tywin Lannister had promised to protect your sister and thus ally itself with your house. What more could he be here for than to help win this war?”

“Tywin Lannister might be married to the former princess but she is not here with us, is she now? She is a prisoner of Robert Baratheon and we do not know what he might do to get her back,” Varys argued, clearly suspecting something.

However, Pycelle did not budge. He knew Tywin was not there to help them, no one in their right mind would. Yet, there was no other way. Rhaegar was dead, Visenya was captured, and many of the royal forces were destroyed in the Battle of the Trident.

The War had been lost already, and they could only try to find a way and save their heads from the chopping block.

“Your Grace, I...I have been by your side all those years...I have been your most faithful servant... Hear my advice and open the gates before Robert arrives,” the Maester said, begging the mad King.

Eventually, Aerys made one single decision: he would not even live long enough to regret it. He heard Pycelle and chose to open the Gates, thinking Tywin Lannister was there to help him; only that he was very, very wrong.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Outside the Gates of King’s Landing, CrownLands

Tywin’s face was hard to read, his green eyes cold as steel behind his helm. He watched as the Gates finally opened, the Mad King had been as stupid as he had let him two years ago. He barely had to lift his hand fully up in the air for his men to march into the city and take it down.

By his side stood two men who were different from his usual men. One of them, especially, was so tall that he created a shadow over the Proud Lion while his big bulk was merely inhuman; impossible for someone to possess it and yet he did.

“Clegane, Lorch,” he called out to the two men. “You have your orders. Get into  Maegor's Holdfast and kill the children of Elia Martell. Their bodies are our bargaining chip,” he ordered, and watched as the two men joined the rest of the army.

What Tywin would never suspect or see coming, was the fact that his vague orders would forever seal his fate and create a long-lasting enemy. In his mind, he only saw the children dead, but he never expected his mad dog would go as far as to harm Elia in the worst way possible.

For at that moment, all he needed were the children; dead. They would be the olive branch when Robert would reach King’s Landing, the only thing that would earn the safety of his house and the return of his Lady Wife.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Red Keep, CrownLands

Aerys watched from the tall windows as the Lannister men sacked his city. They destroyed, killed and raped anything that moved in front of them whether be men, elders, women or even children.

Furious by the betrayal, Aerys turned to Jaime; the last King’s Guard to have been left behind and the only one present in the Throne Room.

“I command you, Ser Jaime, get out there and bring me the head of the traitor Tywin Lannister,” he said to the young knight, not caring if he pitied a son against his father. Then he turned to Rossart, who had become his new Hand. “Burn them, Rossart...burn them all!” he ordered, his voice filled with madness as his violet eyes belonged to no one else but a lunatic.

If he was going to go down, then he would make sure to take down his enemies with him. He did not care for the people; he did not care for anyone but himself.

He was the mighty Aerys Targaryen, the King of the 7 Kingdoms and he would let his fury be unleashed upon his enemies in the form of fire and blood.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Many things took place in a short time, and many have been told through different versions based on who they supported during that time.

A few things, however, remained the same and made a big mark in the history of Westeros.

For starters, Jaime Lannister had killed the Pyromancer Rossart and then took the life of the Mad King himself; stopping the wildfire plot that would burn down all of King’s Landing.

However, by the time he pulled his blade off the corpse of the King, several knights from the wasternlands, including Ser Elys Westerling and Lord Roland Crakehall, burst into the hall.

They caught him red-handed, literally as one would say, and Jaime did not try to justify his actions. He knew people would not believe him and he did not do it to be considered a saint.

Instead, he ordered his father’s men to spread the news that the Mad King was dead and he would eventually accept the titles of ‘Oathbreaker’ and ‘Kingslayer’ for the years to come.

Not soon after this occurred, Robert’s forces reached King’s Landing. Only that it was not the Baratheon Heir leading them, instead it was the young Eddard Stark that had taken the mantle.

Robert had returned and would arrive slower, his body suffering injuries from Visenya’s two arrows and a new scar from Rhaegar’s Valyrian Steel.

This is why he had sent Eddard ahead, thinking he would have to fight to take King’s Landing only for the doors to be open.

The Rebel forces were allowed into the mighty Capital that was bathed in the blood of innocents, the roads stained by blood primarily.

Lannister men had raged havoc, destroyed, killed and raped countless people that even the best Maesters would never be able to truly count.

The whole image was sickening, especially to the righteous Eddard; who saw the killing of innocents as an extreme move.

One thing was certain though, no one would ever dare to go against and risk facing the fury of the Lion of Casterly Rock.

[countrymusiclover]

36 - Heirs of the Rock or Throne

Part 37

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

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“I’m going to beat you, brother.” I heard one of my sons say while walking through the outside hallway that allowed people to watch the fighters in the training yard below my feet.   

Rounding the corner I leaned my elbows on the wooden railing giving me the opportunity to watch my children secretly. “Nah, you can’t.  I’m too much like our father, meaning I got his sword skills.” Rhaegar challenged his sister Luciya who was wielding a sword in her hand. 

The pair began fighting one another but not harsh enough to ever leave a mark.  Jaime and I agreed if they wanted to spare it would be with sparring swords, not real ones.  “If Tyrion was out here watching he’d say we should bet which one will win.” Jaime’s voice came across the cold winter wind causing me to slightly turn my body seeing him coming to stand beside me. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever known him to not try and bet on quite a lot of things.” I cocked him with a playful smirk playing on my lips. 

He nodded, resighting a line some thought were the words of House Lannister, but they would be wrong. “A Lannister always pays his debts.  So what would he ever have to worry about in regards to money?” 

“Until the day comes and the mines run dry.  We may not be able to pay all the debts we owe when that day arrives upon us.” I remind him recalling when I had read over the documents about the mines when we called Casterly Rock our home. 

Jaime leans down on his elbows shifting his attention to our children still picturing them as infants in his arms. “Let’s talk about something else.  Who do you think will win, Vaella?” 

“I have to say Luciya.” 

Jaime smiled back at me. “Then I say Rhaegar.” 

“Looks like we’ll have a tie.  There’s me, Luycia and Rhana.  Then you, Rhaegar and Chandler.  Whatever shall we do?” A smirk remains plastered on my lips, my gaze meeting his green eyes. 

My husband bent his head down laughing as he realized what I meant. “Are you suggesting I put another baby in your belly down the road to make it even.  Fully knowing it could be another boy meaning the men of the household would always win.” 

“There’s no guarantee of that happening.  It could be another girl.” 

Jaime fake groaned, putting a hand over his face. “Gods, that sounds horrible.” 

“Hear the girls roar should be the new house words.” I began giggling, finding so much enjoyment in this conversation much more than I thought I would. 

Jaime stands upright changing the conversation slightly, staring longingly at me. “Who would you want to be named heir if you take the Iron Throne?” 

“Jaime, I - I don’t know.  We never talked about that before now.  I mean you barely ever saw yourself as Lord of the Rock.  Would you even want me to be named Queen and you King of the Seven Kingdoms?” 

He placed his left hand over mine. “I don’t need to be called King, Vae.  The throne is your birthright.  If you want it should be yours just like your brother wanted it to be.” 

“He didn’t want it.  The Iron Throne, did you know that?” I questioned him by looping my hand through his larger hand in my smaller one. 

He shakes his head no just listening to me talk. “I didn’t.  Why didn’t he want it?” 

“He was raised to be King like most princes are.  He was also obsessed with the prophecy and the dagger I carry on my belt that belonged to the conqueror.  His path and birthright was all set in stone until he fell in love with Lyanna and then he no longer cared for being a prince ever again.” 

Jaime clicked his tongue recalling a now long distant memory of when he served under my father. “He supposedly took off with her after Aerys named Viserys in his place.” 

“Yes, that’s when the noble houses began to turn every more against him and his fire setting ways.” Glancing down at my children who were still sword fighting below us.  I sucked in a breath finding it difficult to ever name only one of my children as my heir to the throne. “As for who should be my heir, I think we should let our children decide if it’s something they want.  They shouldn’t just be told that they are entitled to a crown.” 

Jaime parted his lips realizing what that would mean in regards to the realm. “That would break the wheel.  The wheel of heirs.” 

“I hate to admit it, my father may have had a point.  Rulers of the next generation should be chosen.” I raised my head slightly,  closing my eyes figuring out what wheel my sister had been saying she would break. 

The throne room quickly filled with the high lord of Westeros and the council members of my father, The Mad King they now call him behind his back.  I was standing off to the side of the famous throne with my siblings in order of birth.  Which was our mother Rhaella who wore a black small crown on her head while she stood next to my brother Rhaegar, me and Viserys. “If you keep eyeing him it will become very obvious that you have feelings for him.” Rhaegar whispered into my ear. 

“Worry about yourself, Rhaegar.  I’ll be right back.” Picking up the skirts of my gown I crossed in front of my mother seeing Jaime standing off on the other side of the throne talking with Ser Barristan. “Ser Jaime, Ser Barriston.” 

Barristan bowed his head leaving us to talk briefly. “Princess.” 

“What do you suppose your father is going to talk about today, Princess?” Jaime asked me with a quiet voice. 

Shrugging my shoulders I made a noise. “I don’t have any guesses.  What’s say you?”

“I just know my father isn’t happy my sister can’t be wed off to your brother now.” He responded to my question by eyeing the Dornish princess who was talking with my brother. 

Nodding my head in agreement I sucked in a breath feeling nervous about what he could say. “It has to be something big.  I just pray he’s not marry me off to some stuck up lord.” 

“We can only hope, lady Lannister.” Jaime whispered with a half smile and I blushed showing him the ring necklace hidden around my neck.  Turning my head I shuffled myself back across to where I was supposed to stand. 

“Presenting King Aerys Targaryen, second of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm.” Our attention is pulled elsewhere hearing a guard announcing my father’s entrance into the room. 

My father made his way up to the stone steps of the sword throne sitting down with some quitchy eyes shifting around the room. “I have decided to name a new heir to my throne.” 

“Your grace, Prince Rhaegar is your oldest son.” Tywin spoke up trying to advise him as best he could being his Hand of the King. 

My father snapped at his adviser, turning his attention back to the crowd. “Silence Lannister!  I have decided to name a new heir that will be Viserys Targaryen.” 

“Seven hells.” I cursed under my breath knowing what that meant for me and my older brother.  He didn’t trust his own son anymore. Rhaegar clasped my hand in his, watching our father leave the room without another word.  Kings or Queens can really do whatever they want because they have ultimate power in their hands. 

Jaime and I were silently standing still watching our children still just playing around with their blades until someone came running up the wooden stairs causing us to turn our heads in the direction of the sound. “My lord, my lady, I have some news.” 

“What kind of news?” I asked the guard nervously. 

The Stark guard replied. “A white Walker was spotted nearing the castle.  They are approaching upon us.” 

“Luciya! Rhaegar! Put the swords up and go find your younger siblings now.” Jaime leaned his body over the wooden railing gaining their attention. 

Turning my head back to the guard I replied. “Thank you for the information, Ser.” 

“Of course, my lady.” He bowed leaving us alone. 

Jaime touched my hand intertwining mine in his.  Lifting my head up to meet his gaze I responded to him. “We need to get them down to the crypt.  The battle is coming now.” He nodded so together we rushed down the steps knowing we would possibly have to say a hard goodbye to our four kids.