282AC

For Tya in the months after the tumultuous tourney at Harrenhal - the events of which would no doubt go doubt in history, for better or worse - the situation in King's Landing was better than it had been in years.

Rhaegar, for now, was an infinitely better king than Aerys for the simple fact that he was an excellent listener. The Prince Regent, as he was now called, took his duties very seriously. He attended every Small Council meeting and sat the Iron Throne for every open audience, listening to his advisors and his people alike with the same quiet attention and respect, taking into account everything they had to say and doing his best to act fairly upon it.

He also listened to his Hand. Not saying that he was a puppet, far from it, but Rhaegar understood that Tya was far more experienced in matters of state and knew the workings of the kingdoms inside out. So long as she put together a convincing enough case, he tended to take her advice on most matters, and was clearly making an effort to learn from her. 

As a result, Tya had managed to enact a great deal of the beneficial reforms she had wished to pass when Aerys was king but had been blocked from doing so out of the king's spite, despite the fact that her ideas would benefit House Targaryen greatly (often as well as herself). Often it depended on the day. Some days he did not care and Tya could do her job in relative peace, whilst others he went out of his way to sabotage whatever she was doing.

She also took great pleasure in undoing many of the foolish laws the king had passed. In fact, Rhaegar's first few days as Regent had been spent carefully reading through the stack of papers Tya had dumped on his desk. She'd had such documents prepared for a long time, in the event of Aerys' death, or sudden return to sanity. It was gratifying watching the prince's eyebrows raising in incredulity at the numerous good ideas his father had turned down, and the ridiculous ones of his own that he had enacted.

"I don't know how you stood him for so long," Rhaegar shook his head, holding up one of the pieces of parchment. "This trade deal with Braavos would greatly benefit King's Landing, and the whole of the Crownlands, possibly Gulltown and the Vale too, if passed. Yet he tore it up because..?"

"I had the nerve to deal with the descendants of traitors to Valyria," Never mind that the slaves (slaves, not traitors) that founded Braavos had fled their oppressive dragon-wielding masters centuries ago, before the Targaryens even made it to Westeros. Had Steffon Baratheon come to him with that deal, Aerys would have made him Hand. 

Rhaegar was silent, that ever-present melancholy expression - Jason called it brooding, in private - on his face. 

"Though it pained me - and still does - to usurp my own father, it was certainly the right thing to do,"

"Yes, your Grace. It was,"

And no one thought so more than Tya. With the king no longer enjoying publicly insulting her at every turn, all those courtiers who had joined him in sneering at her and mocking her had shrunk back into the shadows, or were going out of their way to gain the Hand's favour now she herself was in favour with the Prince Regent. 

There were still those men present who disliked her in power for no other reason than being a woman, though they had been lurking around as long as she had been Hand and would likely never lose that disgust in their eyes at taking orders from her. 

Tya indulged none of it. She had never been one for simpering sycophants, especially those who had once scorned her, and met their pathetic flattery with cold stares and sharply worded remarks. The ones who avoided her eyes could rot for all she cared, though there was a certain satisfaction in inspiring such a reaction. As for the men who resented her for being a woman - though even she would admit there were a thousand other things they would be more justified in hating her for - most did not dare to voice their complaints. Not after twenty years of a finger being removed from anyone who dared suggest she lay with the king.

Life would have been almost... good, save for three unfortunate events. 

The first was the death of Princess Loreza of Dorne, a short time after the tourney. The loss of one of her oldest (and only) true friends had hit Tya hard, though she would not show it. She had sent a letter to Prince Doran, Loreza's heir, to offer her condolences and would no doubt continue to enjoy an alliance with Dorne built on friendship, however it would not be the same. She would miss Loreza's letters, her intelligent, her dry observations and her often outrageous suggestions that had Tya smiling despite herself. 

Doran's reply had been sent via a messenger rather than a raven, the reason being the gift that came with the letter. In death, Loreza had bequeathed her one of her necklaces, a matching pair of earrings and set of five hair pins; all done in gold, but instead of the rubies Tya normally favoured, they were set with bright orange sapphire. Not so obviously Martell - her friend knew she would never wear any sigil other than the Lannister lion - but she remembered Loreza wearing that set often enough that it made her frown out of grief.

My daughter called this set gaudy, once. The note, written in her friend's hand, accompanied the velvet-lined box. Though said I somehow pulled it off. I now gift these to you, for who else could get away with wearing such an obscene amount of gold other than Lady Lannister? I pray you can get over your pride and wear orange jewellery at least once. Perhaps get a dress made to match - having seen you in that gold gown, you should really wear brighter fabrics more often. I'm sure you've built up enough of your intimidating Lady Hand reputation over the years that you can survive one feast out of red, black, grey, dark green or dark blue. The events at Harrenhal are enough to write your name in history alone, let alone everything else. I wish I had been there. I won't say goodbye, as we are likely going to the same place, so I will see you there. Hopefully not for forty more years, so I shall be younger and more beautiful for once. Yours, Loreza of Dorne.

She did not cry at that, though could have done had she let herself.

Instead, Tya threw herself into her duties as Hand. The second major problem (for her, at least) was that of the princess. Ashara had been bed-bound since the difficult and bloody birth of Princess Valaena; she was feeble and weak, but still clung onto life. Which was unfortunate, seeing as Rhaegar had agreed to wed Cersei if his wife died. 

Of course, Tya would not let him push her daughter for a son the same way he had made Ashara bear three pregnancies and four children in an alarmingly short space of time, which had undoubtedly led to her current condition. After her own experience with Damon and Tyrion's births being so close together - which had had the worst possible outcome save the deaths of mother and child - she would not allow Cersei to go through the same thing.

Yet Rhaegar's one, single kernel of possible madness was not even a relevant concern at the moment, seeing as he firmly refused to set his barren, sickly wife aside, even when Tya had (not so delicately) broached the subject. That had earned him the grudging gratitude of Ser Arthur Dayne, though the Kingsguard knight clearly resented the way his former friend had caused his sister's affliction through too many pregnancies in too little time.

Ashara did not look fit to die soon, either, though it had taken months for her to improve just enough to sit up in bed. The famous beauty was certainly diminished. Tya had been to see her only once; Ashara's cheeks were gaunt and hollow, her hair dull and limp, her eyes shrouded in black circles, her skin an unpleasant shade of grey and her lips cracked and dry. 

She had wasted away, a shell of her former self, and would surely never bear another child, which brought even more problems. Four daughters did not make a strong legacy for House Targaryen, and would no doubt cause issues in the future, seeing as Prince Viserys was a strong and spirited boy of six, the ideal candidate for those who wished for a king. Beyond her own selfish reasons for wanting her daughter as queen, Tya had no desire to see another Dance of Dragons play out, this time between uncle and niece.

Yet there were to be more Targaryen children on the way nonetheless. She had been greatly surprised when Rhaella revealed to her that she was pregnant.

"No doubt it's because Aerys has been kept away this time," Her friend remarked somewhat bitterly, but seemed more relieved than anything else, and delighted with the prospect of another child. Since her husband had been confined to his own luxury chambers, the colour had returned to the queen's face as the bruises and cuts had faded, and she now had a healthy glow of pregnancy about her.

The third problem was that she still did not know the identity of the nasty traitor who had leaked information about Rhaegar's possible regency to Aerys.

She had been seeking the traitor since her return to court. Her first suspicion was Varys and his little birds, though wondered what the eunuch had to gain from that. He had not been dismissed from the Small Council for to his actions inciting Aerys' paranoia, despite the fact that no one on the Small Council liked him. Rhaegar had insisted, claiming he would rather have him where they could keep an eye on him, which was a fair enough point, and the Spider was invaluable when he actually cooperated. 

His influence had diminished since Rhaegar became regent, and he could no longer hiss poison into the king's ear. Varys had been much better off under Aerys' rule. That could potentially be motivation for revealing their plot, but if had enough spies to confirm Tya's treasonous plans, he had enough spies to realise that they would be successful and that backing her into a corner would only force her to act sooner and more violently. Why would he hasten the downfall of Aerys, his only ally here?

She doubted it was the eunuch, though still disliked him just as much. He appeared nervous and jittery around her, though how much of that was an act, Tya did not know. 

The next obvious culprits were the other lords she had spoken to, perhaps the Tyrells, slippery as they were, hoping to earn favour. Not Dorne, for Aerys' downfall would see a Dornishwoman as queen. Certainly not the West or the North. Lord Arryn was too honourable; he'd have told them if he disagreed with their plans. Tully... perhaps, though she doubted it as he would surely gain nothing and wouldn't risk acting alone. 

Yes, the Tyrells were the most likely option - unless Baratheon had opened his big mouth to the wrong person - though she could not prove it, and had no means to act on the information even if she did. Not unless she wanted to tear the kingdoms apart over a matter that - while infuriating - had turned out fine in the end.

In all honesty, it could have been anyone. Any of the lords could have placed their trust in the wrong person, or been overheard by an unaffiliated spy. The real culprit could be any random servant. The whole mess infuriated Tya. She had questioned all her own servants and guards thoroughly, which had yielded nothing. Though the coup had been successful, what if it hadn't been? That traitor would have been her doom and her head would likely still be decorating the walls of the Red Keep. 

Or her ashes would have yet to be swept from the shadow of the Iron Throne.

The stench of wildfire burnings had yet to leave the throne room, but the rest of the castle seemed to be gifted a breath of fresh air (or as fresh as the putrid air in King's Landing ever got). No more burnings, no more fear of the king's paranoia, and the only sign anyone heard of of Aerys was the occasional tantrum from behind his closed chamber doors, guarded by two of the Kingsguard at all times. 

She had paused to listen to such an episode, once, whilst making her way to Rhaegar's solar - the prince's solar still, not the king's - and had smiled faintly at the furious shrieking before moving on.

Knowing that the Tyrells were among the most fickle, and most powerful, of their allies, Tya had agreed to send her son Damon there to foster as a cupbearer to Lord Mace, as she herself had served King Aegon, years ago. Damon was almost ten, and would become a squire in the next couple of years, so it would benefit him to live away from home. Whilst he was a Lannister, he was not of the main branch and (unlike Jaime) stood to inherit no lands or titles, so connections with other great houses would serve him well. The Tyrell heir, Willas, was only a year Damon's elder and Tya hoped that a friendship would bloom there.

This left Tya with her daughters and Tyrion. 

Cersei still sought her tutelage in all matters of state and politics. The girl had seemed to sober slightly after the tourney. Perhaps it had something to do with the evident row she had had with Jaime over gods know what. Tya had asked Jason what he thought was the cause of the rift between the once-close twins; her husband's face had darkened slightly, which was suspicious, though he refused to say anything on the matter other than the two had fought and the matter was now settled. She had pushed him to reveal more, but he was immune to all her tactics and did not say a word. Cersei did not reveal anything more either, though her eyes narrowed at the mention of her eldest brother.

Tya did not forget the matter, though was willing to put it out of her mind temporarily given the positive change that had come over her daughter. Cersei was no less wilful, but seemed a lot more determined to be diligent, rather than give up or argue when she found something she disliked. She also made an effort to befriend many of the other young ladies of the court, laying on the charm rather than utilising her cutting tongue for a change. When she tried, she was the type of girl who other young ladies longed to be friends with; confident, stunningly beautiful, slightly haughty and witty.

Rohanne was the opposite. When she wasn't out riding or hunting, she was practicing shooting her bow in the yard, or humouring Tyrion by letting him read with her. She didn't have many friends in the other young ladies at court, aside from the daughters of a few minor knights and lords, but rather oddly seemed on good terms with many of the young men, with her blunt manner and wicked sense of humour. Nothing concerning yet, and she was never unchaperoned, though Tya would likely have to put a stop to that soon given she was to be married in just over three years.

Tyrion evidently missed Damon greatly and spent much of his days reading in the library. He had no friends save for his brothers and sisters; though his whole family was willing to sharply reprimand anyone who dared say a word mocking his height, it happened nonetheless, Tya knew. The boy was rather good at sticking up for himself, though Jason often worried over how it clearly affected him underneath the sarcastic retorts.

She was surprised one evening when her youngest son knocked on the door to her solar.

"Enter," She said, sharp as ever, then realised it was her nine-year-old son hovering rather unsurely near the door. "What is it, Tyrion?"

"May I speak with you, Mother?" He asked, clearly making an effort to meet her eyes as she had instructed him to do with people, rather than looking down. If he could hold her stare, he could hold anyone's.

Part of her wished to say she was busy and send him away.

"Very well," Tya said instead after a pause. "Sit, and speak quickly. I am very busy,"

He clambered into the large chair in front of her desk.

"I would like to learn politics," The dwarf said. "Would you teach me, as you teach Cersei?" Tyrion clearly saw the look on her face. "I won't ever be a warrior like Jaime," He said in a rush. "And I won't make a good marriage. I've read a lot on the subject but books don't tell you everything. Please, Mother, I would like to learn,"

"Why would you not go to your father about such matters?" She asked. "He is more than experienced in the subject, having been Master of Laws almost as long as I have been Hand,"

"Father is... different," Tyrion said carefully, clearly away he was balancing on a fine line. "He is charming and friendly and handsome. Everyone likes him. Most people don't like me," He hesitated. "Or you. But you're good at what you do, and they're scared of you, so it does not matter,"

Something in Tya bristled at that; the comparison to her youngest son, rather than the fact that not many people liked her, which had been true her whole life. But she had to admit, the boy had a point. Jason's brand of politics - being everyone's friend, the silk glove to her iron gauntlet - would not work for a misshapen little creature like Tyrion. And if a lady can be feared and respected in a society made for men, then surely so could a dwarf? It would only benefit them for the boy to not be useless.

"Very well," She said slowly, after a long silence. "I will teach you. But not on some childish whim - you must take this seriously, and not waste my time,"

His face lit up in surprise and delight, which she could not say did not please her a little.

"Thank you, Mother!" The boy exclaimed.

*

When the news came to her that Princess Ashara had finally succumbed to the pull of death, Tya had to hide her smile. 

The woman had certainly not been healthy and hale by the end, but she was ever so slowly improving rather than getting worse. Tya's mood had darkened when Rhaegar gladly informed her that his wife could now take a few steps unassisted around her bedchamber, though there was little she could do about it other than act like it pleased her. 

She was glad for that now, however. Those few steps around her bedchamber had been enough for Ashara to jump out of her own window, impaling herself on the spikes of Maegor's Holdfast.

The princess' mind had not been improving as much as her body, as it turned out, and the death of little Princess Rhaenys from a seasonal fever had been the final straw. 

"I'm glad you're so poor at expressing emotion," Jason muttered to her at the funeral. "Else I fear you might be beaming,"

He wasn't wrong. Poor taste though it might be, this was exactly what Tya wanted, for now - as agreed - Cersei would surely marry the prince after the standard mourning period. Give it half a year, perhaps.

It seemed too perfect. As it turned out, it was.

She was so angry she could barely speak when Rhaegar informed the Small Council that he would be writing to Lord Stark, asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. In a move truly worthy of his father, the prince was planning to insult half the great houses in Westeros with that one letter alone. 

The Baratheons would be enraged, for their future king attempting to steal Lord Robert's betrothed. Dorne would be angry as well, for Ashara Dayne was not even two weeks in the grave. Elia Arryn was the future Lady of the Eyrie, and Ashara's closest friend; the disrespect would not pass her nor her husband by. And as for the Starks... Lord Rickard was an ambitious man. He would offend the Baratheons in a heartbeat and break that betrothal to Robert, if it meant that his daughter would be queen. 

Lady Tya of House Lannister, Hand of the King, was nothing short of furious.

When Rhaegar had finished speaking, an uneasy hush fell over the Small Council chambers. Every one of them knew of the agreement that had been made. Eyes darted between the Prince and the Hand, as Tya felt an icy shroud of deadly calm descend over her.

"Your Grace," Her voice cut through the silence like a knife. "A word. In private,"

Never had a sentence held such deadly promise. Varys gave a nervous chuckle. The weak-willed Master of Coin had already begun to rise. The rest of them hesitantly waited for confirmation from the prince - who nodded, once - and quick vacated their chairs. Jason followed them out with a glance at her, and she knew he would work on them outside, turn them to their side easily enough. 

"We had an agreement," Tya said coldly, facing Rhaegar, who looked solemn but unruffled. "A promise,"

"I apologise for breaking it," He did sound contrite, though that was not good enough. "But there are things out of my control, factors that you don't understand, that play a part in this,"

"Factors that I don't understand?" If it was possible, her tone grew even colder. "What, pray tell, are those? Because there are some important factors that I understand very well, which you seem to have no regard for. A king should not disrespect his lords and meddle in settled affairs, affairs that are none of his concern. And, crucially, a king should keep promises made to those who won him his throne,"

"I am not king yet," Rhaegar replied calmly, and his lack of reaction at her implication infuriated her further. As if she was the foolish, ignorant one, acting unreasonably. "It is important that I take a Stark for my bride, and Lady Lyanna is the only daughter in this generation,"

"If you lay with her in Harrenhal and want to make amends - " 

"I did not dishonour her," His eyes flashed, the first sign of anger, and she bristled at being interrupted. 

"A shame, for everyone is going to believe that you did,"

"People can believe what they like. The reason I wish to wed Lyanna is not for selfish reasons," He hesitated. "How much have you heard or read about prophecy, Lady Tya?"

There was a moment of silence. 

"Prophecy," She said flatly, incredulously. "As in, predicting the future?"

"A great darkness is to fall upon Westeros, and the entire world," He said, perfectly seriously, dark purple eyes imploring her to understand. "There is a prophecy, that a union of ice and fire can defeat this darkness. I must wed Lyanna Stark, and our son will be the Prince Who Was Promised, the only one who can save us all from the darkness and winter and death," 

Seven save us, he's as mad as Aerys.

Tya let the silence drag on.

"I know you do not believe me," Rhaegar eventually broke it. "I would not believe myself, had I not known what I do. But I ask for your patience, and your understanding that I am acting for the good of the realm,"

"I do hope that you don't speak of this to anyone else, your Grace," She replied. "The lords elected to overthrow your father for the madness afflicting his mind,"

The threat was there, and he certainly heard it. We replaced one king, we can replace another.

"The only other option is for me to wed your daughter Cersei and have Lyanna as my mistress," He said, grimacing. "Though that would no doubt be even more... disagreeable,"

"Lords Baratheon and Stark would have their armies at your gates within weeks," She said, hardly believing he had the nerve to even suggest such a thing. "You would be condemning a highborn lady to a lifetime of disgrace and scorn. Yourself as well, for my daughter would not stand for such disrespect, and neither would I," She stepped forward. "Many of the lords of Westeros view me as a vicious harridan who doesn't know her place, but many more see me as the one who held the realm together whilst your father did his best to tear it apart. Losing me as Hand would win you some allies, but not the ones that matter. For them, you would appear a young, foolish king who recklessly alienated a strong, steadfast ally over the matter of despoiling the daughter of a great house,"

She paused.

"By your leave, your Grace, I wish to return to my chambers. I hope you think on what I have said and don't send that monumentally foolish letter to Lord Stark, for it would tarnish your reign and reputation for many years. After Aerys, a strong, sensible king is needed. Do not prove within a year to be your father's son,"

Rhaegar nodded, dismissing her, clearly deep in thought. 

*

In the end, he did not send the damning raven to Lord Rickard. Tya wrote to Stark instead, advising him to push his daughter's wedding forward, to as soon as possible. There were nasty rumours going around at court, she said, suggesting that the Prince Regent had dishonoured her at Harrenhal. Tya, for her part, had spoken to Rhaegar and thought them untrue - of course the Lady Lyanna was virtuous and would not do such a thing - though it was likely best to get her married off fast before such talk reached Storm's End.

She insisted on Rhaegar's wedding to Cersei as soon as possible too, two months after the confrontation in the Small Council chambers had taken place. Her daughter was proud and had taken great offence at the news her betrothed had tried to marry another woman. She seemed hurt too, the remnants of a childish infatuation with the prince that Tya probably should have nipped in the bud sooner.

On the day of the ceremony, however, she was impressed with her daughter. Though Cersei had learned strength and politics at her mother's knee, it was her father she took the lead from then; plastering a smile on her face, charming everyone she met, working a room and making herself beloved by the guests. 

Cersei even did her best to charm her new husband, even if underneath Tya knew she was simmering with rage. Rhaegar was not an easy one to charm, though she made a valiant effort. He was cordial and gentle with his bride (as he had been with Ashara), making polite conversation and not doing anything objectionable, though it was clear there was no passion there. 

Of course, it was clear they were not madly in love - few married couples were - but considering her daughter was one of the most beautiful ladies in the Seven Kingdoms, there wasn't even lust between them. Tya was rather glad. It would be easier that way for Cersei to be respected as a queen by her husband if their marriage was more of a friendship, rather than simply a pretty wife to decorate his arm and warm his bed.

As the bedding ceremony commenced, Jason leant over to Tya where they sat at the high table and murmured in her ear.

"If he treats her how he treated Ashara Dayne, nothing in the world will stop me sticking my sword through his throat,"

She turned to look at him, slightly surprised by the uncharacteristically violent, seriously-delivered threat. But she couldn't disagree, and nodded slowly.

*

Rickard Stark had clearly taken her letter to heart. It was scarcely a month after the royal wedding before Jason, Rohanne and Tyrion were making preparations to set off to Storm's End, for the wedding of Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon, the bride only recently turned five-and-ten. 

Rhaegar and Cersei would be in attendance as well, seeing as Robert was the Prince Regent's cousin. Tya was to stay behind in King's Landing to rule in Rhaegar's absence, but it was important that the rest of her family attend, seeing as Rohanne and Brandon were to be married in a few short years.

She was wary about the prince attending the wedding, given that narrowly-averted fiasco several months ago. But she could hardly tell him not to attending, given he had listened to her advice (reluctantly) and also followed through with their agreement and wed Cersei. Jason would no doubt be on guard during their stay at Storm's End, and she trusted him to monitor and deal with any problematic situations that arose.

It was a raven from her husband that brought the news first, even before the official messages were sent. 

Tya was awoken in the early hours of the morning by someone knocking frantically at the door to her chambers. 

"Who is it?" She snapped, displeased to be woken at this hour; she slept little enough as it was.

"Grand Maester Pycelle, my lady," Pycelle's voice called out, absent of its usual wavering, feeble tone that she knew he put on around others. "There is... grave news from Storm's End,"

Someone better have died...

"Wait in the solar," She got out of bed and hastened to pull on a robe over her nightdress, putting on a pair of shoes, before leaving her bedchamber to greet the Grand Maester. "What is it?"

"It's the Prince Regent, Lady Tya," He grimaced. "Lord Jason sent an urgent raven. He's disappeared, with Ser Oswell Whent, and... and Lyanna Stark. The night before the wedding,"

*

This is a complex situation. I've never liked Rhaegar. Even if his prophecy turns out to be true in canon, there are so many better ways he could have handled it than stealing a teenage girl from her family and not sending word, then leaving her to bleed out birthing his son. In this story, he tried to send word and was foiled by Tya because honestly it would have been a diplomatic nightmare. So he resorts to 'kidnapping' once again. 

Unlike canon, however, Aerys is out of the picture and Tya is in control of King's Landing with her daughter as queen. The only sane, adult Targaryen in King's Landing is Rhaella, who the Starks and Baratheons can hardly demand retribution from. How do you fight a war when there is no one to fight?

And yes, Daenerys was born slightly earlier in this timeline. Just to clarify, Rhaegar had twin daughters (Rhaenys and Visenya) with Ashara, then two more, Daena and Valaena. Rhaenys died of a fever, prompting an already very weak and broken Ashara's suicide. Tya's reaction to this is of course despicable, as even Jason alludes to; she is merely thinking of Cersei being queen.

Hope you're enjoying the direction this story is going in. Please let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!