281AC

"What do you mean 'the king will be in attendance," Tya fixed the bearer of such unfortunate news - her own husband - with an icy glower. 

Jason did not flinch, used to her glares as he was - not that he ever had, even when they were children - but no doubt felt about as pleased as she looked.

"Aerys decided this morning that a gathering of most every lord in the kingdoms, high and low, was a prime chance for his treacherous son and Hand to plot against him," He had the nerve to smile faintly. "Not an unreasonable concern, in all fairness,"

True, that was exactly what Tya had been planning on doing. Well, not so much plot, more celebrate the many betrothals between great houses, and feel out which of the lords would be more open to replacing the current king with someone less insane. Though at the rate Rhaegar's wife was pushing out children - Ashara was pregnant once again, for the third time in two years - she wasn't so sure the heir would turn out much better than his father.

Still, was that the case then removing Aerys would set a new precedent. More power to the lords, less to the monarch. As long as she was Hand of the King, that could work either in her favour or against it, but at this moment it was in everyone's interests that the Mad King be removed from the throne. 

The image Rhaella had planted in her mind of Aerys throttling his wife and calling her Tya's name was not a pleasant one. How long before he grew too mad to remember that her brother was the most powerful lord in Westeros? Not that she would let him survive such an encounter - she still carried a dagger on her at all times - but being known as the Hand who killed their king would not improve her chances of remaining Hand to Rhaegar.  

That was part of the agreement she, the queen and the crown prince had come to, in a series of meetings held by candlelight and kept utmost secret. Tya would support Rhaegar's usurpation of his father - for the prince would not be crowned until Aerys died, merely assume all duties of a king early whilst his father still kept the title - if he kept her on as Hand.

The other part of the agreement was that if Ashara died - which looked increasingly likely, given she had struggled with her last pregnancy and was with child again far too soon - Rhaegar would take Cersei as his bride. The prince had glowered slightly at that, and Rhaella had frowned reproachfully, but Tya would not back down.

In return for the reluctant agreement to her conditions, she had made herself invaluable to the whole process through the arrangement of a series of marriage alliances. Her daughter Rohanne was already betrothed to Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell. Lyanna Stark was promised to Robert Baratheon. The Martell-Arryn match had already taken place, and the Martell-Tully wedding was swiftly approaching. With a persuasive letter to both Hoster Tully and Olenna Tyrell, Tya had prompted talks to betroth the younger Tully daughter to the young Tyrell heir, Willas (who was only ten, so that would have to wait a while).

Not wanting such treason in writing before they were ready to enact it, they would have to wait to speak to the lords in person at Harrenhal about the more delicate matter of Rhaegar taking over from Aerys.

Which would be considerably more challenging now the man himself had decided to attend.

Why now, of all times? The king hadn't left the Red Keep in years, not since Duskendale. He looked truly awful as well; too paranoid to let a blade near him, Aerys' nails and hair had grown to unacceptable lengths, and he smelled atrocious due to not trusting anyone not to drown him if he bathed. He was slightly younger than Tya, yet looked at least two decades older. There was only so much that fine silks and brocade could hide.

*

All of Tya's family was in attendance at Harrenhal; she had thought about only attending with Jason, but the absence of any Lannister would no doubt provoke suspicion. And her children's protests at not going would be far too vocal, considering she had no good reason why not.

"I've never seen so many people," Damon's eyes were wide as the Lannisters and their guards rode into the tourney grounds, a day or so ahead of the king's party. The boy was now nine, and had started training in the yard himself years ago; whilst not the natural talent his elder brother was, he was decent enough with both sword and lance, though had no great love for it. Damon was soft at heart, though he made a good enough show of being otherwise that Tya couldn't complain. 

"Neither have I, outside a battlefield," Jason remarked. 

The land surrounding Harrenhal was a sea of multicoloured tents, banners and armour, milling with people from high lords to hedge knights to local peasants selling their wares.

"Look at the castle, Father!" Tyrion, aged eight, pointed excitedly. He rode in front of Jason, who helped to steady him as his legs were not long enough for a horse of his own; there was talk of having a special saddle crafted with straps for his short legs, which would give a much better image. "That must be the Kingspyre tower, where Balerion and Aegon the Conqueror burned Harren the Black. Then the Widow's Tower, the Wailing Tower, the Tower of Ghosts, the Tower of Dread..." 

He babbled on with enthusiasm, encouraged by his father's interested comments. Tyrion knew better than to try to catch Tya's attention so. She was not cruel to her youngest son, nor even especially cold, but they all knew she looked at him different to the others. Sometimes she would feel a flash of guilt over that fact, but could not bring herself to change, remembering the pain and fear of his birth, the humiliation of bearing a dwarf. The boy was clever, though, she'd admit that, well read and diligent. Perhaps when he was older...

"Oh Tyrion, do be quiet," Cersei tossed her hair impatiently. "I put up with you reciting facts about Harrenhal for half the way here, no need to start again," 

"I thought you might need help remembering," The boy shot back, unperturbed. "Seeing as you spend more time staring in a mirror than in lessons," 

"You little wretch!" The girl glared, though there was no real bite to it. Despite her harsh words, the siblings did care for each other, even though they often got on the other's nerves. Cersei was always the first to deliver a cutting comment whenever anyone insulted her youngest brother, and had made many other children cry as a result.

Tyrion stuck out his tongue in response, making Rohanne and Damon (Jason too) laugh. Cersei gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Mother, must we put up with these insolent brats this whole time?"

"Do not speak of your siblings in such a crude manner," Tya said sharply, pausing. "Or I will make them your responsibility during our stay here - " She was cut off with laughter from all but her eldest daughter, who made an outraged noise. Tya still did not like laughter, though it was acceptable from her family so long as it was not directed at her; her own lips did twitch at Cersei's expression.

"Is that - " Rohanne's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I think that's Jaime," Scarcely a moment later she was gone, kicking her horse into a canter too reckless for a tourney ground.

"Stupid girl," Tya shook her head, the rest of them following at a more sedate pace. 

Sure enough, they were greeted by Jaime, Kevan, Gerion and several other Lannister cousins that had come from Casterly Rock. Rohanne had already dismounted and flung her arms around her eldest brother, who lifted her off the ground and spun her around. Damon quickly followed, then Jason lifted Tyrion down. Cersei, surprisingly, remained on horseback. Whilst Jaime was all of his sibling's favourite, the twins had always been the closest by far. Yet now she would barely even look at him, nor he look at her.

It remained that way at the feast. Cersei made a point of charming and dancing with every handsome man in the room, whilst Jaime remained laughing with his siblings, taking Rohanne, Damon and Tyrion all for a dance around the hall. 

Tya had little time to pay attention to her children, however, not with Aerys looming over the hall from the high table. His beady eyes were darting everywhere, lingering on everyone, looking for any sign of suspicion, likely seeing betrayal where none existed and missing it where it did.

Now was not the time for scheming, not under the kings watchful eye. It was after the feast that she and Jason had a meeting with Rickard Stark, and Prince Rhaegar was to have one of his own with Prince Doran of Dorne; Princess Loreza, to Tya's regret, had been unable to travel such a distance due to ill health. She had written to her old friend prior to leaving King's Landing, however, so the woman's heir should already be briefed on the upcoming events.

"Good evening, my lord," She greeted as a servant showed Lord Rickard into her chambers. She sat behind the desk, Jason the other side of it, next to the empty chair that Stark carefully took.

"Is there a reason for you inviting me here at such a late hour, Lady Hand?" His craggy eyebrow rose impatiently. "Any discussions of the betrothal could wait til morning, surely,"

Ah yes, she remembered that Northern bluntness well.

"The king has left the Red Keep for the first time since he was held hostage at Duskendale," It was Jason who spoke, a sardonic note in his voice. "Lord Stark, what did you think of him?" He smiled slightly at Stark's baffled hesitance. "Come now, be honest. I remarked to my wife earlier that he looked like an overgrown vulture,"

Lord Rickard huffed a laugh at that.

"Very well," He said, clearly indulging them. "The king looks like a mountain clansman after a harsh winter. Can the Targaryen coffers not afford a razor and bathtub?" 

"The king will not let any kind of blade near him, for fear that someone may slit his throat," Jason continued to smile, voice still dry. "Nor will he bathe, for fear of being drowned. That smell that lingers around him... that's the stench of burning human flesh. He favours wildfire as a method of execution now, for murderers and petty misdemeanours both. And, if I dare say so, delights in it far too much. Every time there is a burning, he goes to Queen Rhaella's chambers, and she comes out looking like a wild animal has savaged her. He sees conspiracies and dark plots everywhere, and his paranoia is always stoked by a scraping Essosi eunuch named Varys, who his Grace has appointed to the small council. Aerys often accuses his council, his Hand and his own son, Prince Rhaegar, of betrayal. He accuses great lords too, even if they are not present in court, with no proof other than his own imagination. He was mere seconds from ordering Lord Stokeworth imprisoned not three weeks ago, for no compelling reason. Thankfully the small council was able to talk him out of it, but this is far from an uncommon occurrence and one of these days he will be too far gone to get through to,"

Lord Stark was silent for a long moment.

"I'd heard they call him the Mad King," He said, eyes narrowed. "I had not realised how true that was. What are you really saying, Lannister?"

"Prince Rhaegar is rightly concerned for his father's health," Jason continued. "And for the realm. He worries that the strain of his kingly duties is only driving his Grace further from sanity, and wonders if perhaps taking over some of his father's responsibilities would ease that burden. On both Aerys and the Seven Kingdoms,"

"All of his duties," Tya cut in. "What we are saying, my lord, is would you stand with the prince if he persuaded his father to stand down. Aerys would still be king in name, but name only. Rhaegar would sit the Iron Throne. He would rule the realm," 

"With you as his Hand?" Stark raised a wry eyebrow.

"With me as his Hand, as is our agreement," She confirmed coldly. "Bear in mind, Lord Stark, that Prince Rhaegar is a strong-minded man in his twenties, not a puppet boy-king,"

"Even if he were, I would not object, for our families are to be joined in marriage," Stark replied. "Though I do wonder why is Rhaegar not here to speak to me himself?"

The Lord of Winterfell was proud, she knew. He would take being sent to talk to a lady over a prince as an insult, even if that lady was her.

"If the king discovered that I had met with you in secret, it would be highly unpleasant for all of us. He would be beyond reason," She said. "And if he discovered that the prince was here as well, he would call for our heads,"

Lord Rickard's shrewd eyes narrowed.

"You've trapped me, then," He said, not aggressively but hardly pleased. "Whether I agree to support Rhaegar or not, if Aerys finds out about this meeting then I will be branded a traitor despite having nothing to do with it,"

"In the end, Lord Stark," Jason said, unbothered. "It's a easy choice between a sane, able man ruling the Seven Kingdoms, or Aerys and his growing madness. There is very little risk on your part. Dorne stands with us already. With Dorne, the Arryns and Tullys will follow once we have spoken to them, bound by betrothals as they are. We bring the Westerlands ourselves. And, if you agree to support Prince Rhaegar, Lord Baratheon will no doubt join you - he is betrothed to your Lyanna, is he not? And your son Eddard is his close friend. Not to mention, Prince Rhaegar is far more popular in the Crownlands and King's Landing than his father, who rules through fear,"

"You talk a lot," Stark said gruffly. "Makes up for your wife, I suppose. Normally it's the other way around," At Tya's raised eyebrow, he sighed. "Very well. I have no objection to Rhaegar, and it is plain to see Aerys is no fit ruler. I'd warn you to not earn me a headsman's axe, but as that would mean your own life too, Lady Lannister, I trust such words are unnecessary. I bid you both goodnight,"

With that, Lord Rickard got to his feet and left them.

"I do enjoy tender conversations between future family," Jason remarked wryly after the door had closed. "He was more shrewd than I was expecting, for a Stark. I'll admit, when you edged as close to blackmail as you did, I thought he'd throw the request in our faces and walk out. Gods, he's a prickly bastard - you'd have made a good match for each other,"

She let out a breath of laughter.

"After my father betrothed me to the Frey boy, Mother took me aside and asked who I wished to marry. I said a high lord, and she mentioned Rickard Stark. A suggestion I shot down by proclaiming I did not want to waste away in the North,"

"Well the man doesn't know what a lucky escape he made," He grinned and she shot him a look. "Perhaps the next time you need to threaten him, say that you'll bump me off and arrange a marriage between the two of you,"

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you - I might have to do just that, if Rhaegar ever decides to find a new Hand. Either Stark, or Jon Arryn. For that matter, Hoster Tully is also a widower,"

"Let it not be said you don't have options," Her husband laughed. "The high lords of Westeros are quaking in their boots - they're all scared of you a little, no matter how they hide it,"

"Everyone's scared of me a little," She smiled faintly. "Except you, an irreverent nuisance since you could walk. Even Stark thought you talk too much,"

"He also implied that you're too manly for a woman," Jason mused. "How do you think things would have gone, had you been Tychus and I been Janna?"

"I'd be Lord Lannister, for one, as well as Hand," It was an intriguing (tempting) thought. "I'd have never married a Frey," Though Genna would have done, and would likely still be married, a sobering thought. "People would judge me for being ruthless far less. And Aerys wouldn't have lusted after me for decades, so perhaps he would not despise me so?"

"Or he'd lust after me instead," Her husband shuddered. 

"Then I'd have stuck a knife in him long before this point,"

"Or I wouldn't live at court. I'd be Lady of Casterly Rock, after all, and the children would have had to grow up there,"

"You'd get bored of that," She waved the idea away. "You would get yourself involved in politics somehow,"

"And raise five children at the same time? Be honest, Tya, you don't do much raising now, let alone if you were a man and weren't expected to," It was a fair assessment. "Maybe Cersei would be less... spirited if she didn't have her mother as an example of what a woman can do,"

"I doubt it," She grimaced, and he chuckled.

There was a comfortable silence.

"We still would have married though, surely?" He asked, still teasing. "I dread to think what you'd have become without me. Particularly as a lord,"

"Of course," The words came easily, and she knew them to be true.

*

Every night of the tourney after that, they held similar meetings with the remaining high lords. Lord Arryn listened to them gravely, asking several intelligent questions, then agreed under the condition that Aerys would not be harmed, only contained. Lord Tully took the opportunity to try and bargain (unsuccessfully, though he ended up agreeing nonetheless) whilst Olenna Tyrell, who had come with her son, Mace, somehow ended up squeezing a betrothal for her as-yet-non-existent granddaughter and Prince Viserys. Rhaegar had been present for that conversation rather than Tya, and in her opinion he had folded too easily, but she supposed the Tyrells were the staunchest allies of the Targaryens and it would pay to have them on their side.

Robert Baratheon was by far the easiest to convince. Lord Arryn had evidently spoken to him of the matter already, for he lazily waved aside Jason's spiel and agreed to support Rhaegar there and then. Tya got the impression the man did not particularly care who sat the throne. Jason had rather aptly remarked after Baratheon had gone that the young lord was likely thinking about which busty serving wench he would take to bed that night, rather than matters of state.

The penultimate day of the tourney brought what at first seemed good news; back in King's Landing, Princess Ashara had given birth to a healthy daughter, Valaena. Rhaegar once more seemed irked by the lack of a son, and not nearly as concerned as he should have been that his wife was now gravely ill from the birth. 

Ser Arthur Dayne had rather coldly asked permission to return to the city to see his sister that morning. He had long been the prince's closest friend, yet their relationship seemed to have soured slightly over Rhaegar's treatment of his wife.

With the Sword of the Morning gone, Jaime trounced all the competition in the joust, as he had done every day, earning himself a place in the final against Prince Rhaegar himself. He had intended to enter the melee as well, which he would surely win, but Tya cautioned against it. Aerys had spoken of his plans to choose the next Kingsguard from the winner of the melee, and she wouldn't put it past him to spite her and name her son. 

The final day dawned bright and cool, the promise of spring in the air as it had been this whole event. Tya would admit that her heart was in her mouth (though she never showed a sign of it) as her son and Rhaegar broke ten lances against each other, only for Rhaegar to take a narrow victory. Jaime stood quickly, nothing seeming too hurt save his pride.

Instead of handing his son the garland of winter roses with which he would crown the Queen of Love and Beauty, however, Aerys simply stood and surveyed the crowd. There was a look in his eye that had Tya rather concerned.

"It has been brought to my attention," He started, voice high and cold, eyes alive with spite. "Through my loyal spies, that there are filthy traitors in our midst, trying to seize my throne and stab me in the back. They have plotted my downfall for years - and now I finally have proof. None other than a letter written my own Hand, incriminating them both in unforgivable crimes against the throne. Guards, arrest Lady Tya Lannister and her husband Ser Jason for high treason!"

Chaos erupted before he had even finished speaking. The commons were in uproar, eager for excitement and not caring which lord or lady ended up without a head, so long as they got to see some blood. Tya got to her feet in the stands sharply, pushing all of her children towards their household guards, who were highly trained had their swords out and ready. Jaime had jumped over the barrier to the stands and was sprinting towards them, his sword drawn as he shoved others unceremoniously out of the way. Kevan had readied his own Lannister men, and met her eyes with a raised eyebrow. I hope you know what you're doing, his look seemed to say.

Tya nodded, once, then locked eyes with Rhaegar, still sat on his horse in the tilts. Now or never.

"Stop there," The prince ordered the advancing Targaryen guards, who faltered, confused. He leant down and said something to the leader, too quiet for anyone to make out. The man nodded, and Rhaegar seemed satisfied. Then the prince spoke louder, addressing the stands. "My father, his Grace the king, is troubled by an ailment of the mind, and I believe him unfit to complete his kingly duties. His orders are not to be followed from this moment forth. Lady Tya is no traitor,"

Aerys looked ready to explode in fury.

"How dare you?" He hissed. "You vile, ungrateful traitor. I should have known you were in bed with the Lannister bitch. Guards, seize my disloyal son and my treacherous Hand and have them both thrown in the deepest dungeon in this castle to rot,"

"My lords," Rhaegar spoke over him. "With your blessing, I would allow my father to keep the title of king, but step aside so that I, as crown prince, can respectfully ease his burden and take on the responsibilities of ruling,"

"Aye," Lord Baratheon was the first to bellow. Others quickly followed. The small houses and the great, Arryn, Tully, Martell, eventually Tyrell, and, of course, Lannister. 

Aerys was still shrieking at his guards to seize the traitors. Burn them all, he kept shouting over and over, fevered and hysterical, only proving Rhaegar's point. A dull roar of conversation and shock at the turn of events was rising throughout the commons and the highborn seats alike.

Rhaegar, answering the multitude of questions from all those who approached him, and Aerys might be the centre of attention, but Tya felt many pairs of eyes on her.

She swept through the stands, dark red dress swishing around her feet as a dozen guards kept pace behind her. She wasn't making her way down to stand with Rhaegar, no, but instead to the royal box, only occupied by Aerys.

The king was still shrieking and cursing at the Kingsguard, who were an immovable obstacle in his way. Tya had left Rhaegar to handle Ser Gerold Hightower and his men beforehand, knowing that if she had done so herself, the White Bull would likely consider it treason. Even now, it clearly pained him to disobey his king's orders. Yet you would have to be mad yourself to deny that Aerys, throwing the tantrum he was in public, spitting threats of wildfire at anyone and anything that moved, was completely insane.

When the king caught sight of her, he froze, eyes bulging with rage and loathing, spittle frothing at his lips.

"Your Grace," Before he could speak, Tya dropped into the deepest, most perfect curtsey she had performed in her life, even lowering her eyes, which she had done for no one save King Aegon. Though when she glanced up, she was sure to let him see the faint smile playing at her lips. 

For a moment, a brief flash of sanity seemed to pass through the king. 

"My Lady Hand," His tone was startlingly normal, if rather hoarse, breathless from his previous ranting.

"It was an honour to serve, your Grace," She said. "As it will be an honour to serve your son, Prince Rhaegar," 

The flash of sanity was gone just as soon as it appeared, as Aerys' eyes clouded over with madness once more.

"I raised you up from nothing. Nothing!" He hissed lowly at her. "Were it not for me, you would be nothing more than the wife of a landless knight sniffing round court and Casterly Rock for favours. No doubt you'd have ended up whoring yourself out to me for some small shred of influence! I made you, a mere woman, Hand of the King, against the judgement of every lord in Westeros. And you repay me with treachery and betrayal," You brought that on yourself.

There was a moment of silence as she let that hang in the air.

"His Grace is clearly not House Lannister prays for his Grace's return to health," Tya said evenly, as unruffled as if he had not spoken. "By your leave, Aerys," 

She left before his leave had been given. They would talk later, away from prying eyes and ears. Of that she had no doubt. Let them say she had been gracious in the king's downfall. That she had wished him well, despite the torrent of insults directed her way. 

As she rejoined her family, Jason's face too was a suitable mask of dutiful acceptance, though mirth sparkled in his eyes and he squeezed her arm when she took his own, clearly holding back a smirk. So was she. There would be plenty of time to celebrate in private.

*

That final scene was very hard to write - I hope it lived up to expectations. To be clear, Aerys is not being forced to abdicate, and will remain king in name, but will merely be confined to the castle with no authority. Rhaegar will be king in all but name. And part of the conditions for Tya's help was for her to remain Hand. 

They would not have chosen such a public place to do it as a tourney had Aerys not unexpectedly discovered Tya's plotting; Harrenhal was just meant to be a meeting place to discuss the matter, as they wanted the support of most of the lords before making a move seeing as this sets a potentially dangerous precedent. Ideally, they would have returned from Harrenhal then enacted the changes.

The marriages and betrothals are all quite hard to follow so I've listed them below along with the ages of those involved. 

Elbert Arryn (born 253AC) and Elia Martell (257AC). Married 280AC.

Doran Martell (248AC) and Catelyn Tully (265AC). To marry in 281AC.

Lysa Tully (267AC) and Willas Tyrell (271AC). To marry in 286AC.

Viserys Targaryen (276AC) and future Tyrell daughter. Undecided.

Janei Lannister (270AC) and Jaime Lannister (265AC). To marry in 285AC.

Rohanne Lannister (268AC) and Brandon Stark (260AC). To marry in 284AC.

Lyanna Stark (267AC) and Robert Baratheon (261AC). To marry in 283AC.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading!