EDITED: 8th Jan 2022

273AC

Tya wasn't the kind of woman to let her children hang from her skirts. Jaime and Cersei were eight now and neither would dream of such a thing; even as younger children, they had never shrunk behind either of their parents, not that either of their parents would have let them. Both were bold and proud, as befitting lions of Lannister, and Tya often (very privately) thought they would make better heirs of the main branch than Kevan's children; Gerold was awfully disobedient and foolish, with no time for his lessons, whilst Janei was painfully shy.

Unlike his father, Jaime had only disdain for archery, yet was a prodigy with a sword even at eight, with the master-at-arms Ser Willem Darry and Ser Barristan Selmy himself both remarking on how they had never seen a more naturally gifted swordsman. He didn't have much time for his lessons, and rather embarrassingly still struggled to read, a matter that Tya was considering taking into her own hands to fix.

She was just glad that her son was no pushover like Lord Tytos had been. Jaime clearly took after Jason more than her - his replies were often far too smart for her liking, and he had a definite irreverence for being told what to do - but the few things he seemed to have inherited from his mother was her pride, her refusal to seem weak and most of all her sharp tongue.

Cersei had inherited her ambition.

The girl idolised Tya, which was not near as irritating as it sounded. Her daughter could spout out ladylike courtesies and smile sweetly when she wanted, but was no delicate rose, beautiful though she was. Like her mother, she had no time for embroidery or learning the harp, but instead demanded to be taught the kind of things that Tya had sought after as a girl, and had only found herself in books on politics and war.

Cersei had a keen mind, even though she rarely applied it to anything she didn't want to, and Tya was amenable to the idea of teaching her daughter some of what she knew. Jaime showed little interest in such things, though she made him attend some lessons nonetheless, as he wasn't bad at all when he tried hard enough.

Despite her interests, however, Cersei was nowhere near as cold and careful as her mother had been as a girl. She was precocious, yes, but still acted like a child, which her mother had never really done. When she found something difficult she tended to rail against it rather than throwing herself into it, making teaching her rather frustrating. Cersei also had a rather nasty and vocal temper, and was not at all good at concealing her emotions, which blazed hot and fast. She certainly was not Tya born again.

She was also very attached to her brother. Jaime and Cersei had been joined at the hip their whole lives, even closer than Tya and Kevan had once been. Whilst Tya had ordered her brother around, and he trailed after her like a faithful shadow, the twins seemed rather more balanced. They tended to put each other in their places, not unlike her and Jason did, but they were far closer than the mutual loathing their parents had shared as children. Though they did argue, it never seemed to come from a place of dislike, and it was clear that both twins' favourite person was the other.

Tya still remembered the days when her eldest daughter would beg her father to teach her the sword, the same as he taught Jaime. The girl had given up on it when she realised her brother was far better at it naturally, which irritated her enough to declare swordplay 'unladylike' at the age of seven and turn to her mother for lessons in something she was vaguely good at (something her brother had no patience for). That was certainly a good thing. It was one thing to tolerate a woman doing work of government, but quite another to don a sword and armour.

Of all her children, Rohanne was perhaps the most like Tya in temperament. The only one of the four to have red hair rather than gold, her younger daughter was quiet and reserved even aged five. Perhaps that was due to her elder siblings being so close, but she had never attempted to follow the twins around and try and join in. Rohanne seemed to care for Jaime more than Cersei; though Cersei would always be his favourite, Jaime did make time for his younger sister too, which often made Cersei angry. Although the girl did interact with Rohanne herself, it seemed to annoy her that whilst quiet, her sister wasn't a biddable little mouse, but stubborn and strong-willed.

Damon was less than a year old so it was too early to tell how he'd turn out, and of course he had little opinion on the fact she was with child again. Rohanne didn't seem too bothered by the arrival of another younger sibling either; unlike Cersei, she liked spending time with baby Damon but wasn't quite as attentive as Jaime towards their younger brother, or perhaps just showed it differently.

Jaime seemed to look forward to another sibling, but Cersei, as ever, was unimpressed.

"Do you have to have another baby, Mother?" She implored as they all sat in her solar one evening after dinner. "You've already got two boys and two girls. Rohanne and Damon were extra anyway. And you only just had Damon,"

That was true. Tya had found out she was pregnant with her fifth child scarcely four months after her fourth was born, and it was due to be born only eleven months after Damon.

She had railed at Pycelle at the unexpected pregnancy, for she had been drinking moon tea prepared by the maester since Damon was born, intending for the boy to be her last child. She hated being pregant, and did not want to risk dying in childbirth for a fifth time. Yet for whatever reason, the tea hadn't worked.

As it turned out, the job of preparing moon tea for the few ladies of the court that asked for it had been assigned to a less experienced assisant, the very apologetic Grand Maester had told her. Whatever Tya had been taking had not been effective as a result of improper preparation, and the offending assistant would be dismissed immedaitely. But as for the consequences of that, there was ultimately little she could do.

Tya was hardly going to risk her health by having the baby removed in a dangerous procedure; besides, if it got out that she'd killed her unborn child, the High Septon would probably declare her a heathen, seeing as he thought her unnatural and wicked anyway. She'd had three relatively easy pregnancies and birthed four healthy children already. There was no reason why this one would be any different.

"You say that like there's something I can do about it, Cersei," She said to her daughter.

"Don't you choose when you're with child?" The girl's eyes widened.

Jason snorted in amusement where he sat beside her.

"Sometimes," Tya replied carefully, with a glare at her husband. "Sometimes it just happens. I did not choose to have any of you," That was quite true. She had never tried to get pregnant, viewing each one as an inconvenience (though of course not her children once they were born - there were servants to look after them then).

"A fine thing to tell them all," Her husband shook his head, though none of them looked very upset.

"Can I feel the baby kick again?" Like with Damon and Rohanne before him, Jaime seemed fascinated with the idea of a new sibling.

Tya hesitated slightly - as she did at the idea of anything resembling affection with anyone who wasn't Jason, a remnant of her overly affectionate father, or perhaps the grasping hands of her unfortunate first husband - but then nodded. Her husband grinned as their son - then Cersei, a little more hesitantly - hurried to place a hand on her swollen stomach. Tya smiled faintly back, not as disturbed by the domestic scene as she would've been ten years ago.

*

Her waters broke too early. Three weeks early, by the maester's calculations; not too bad, the baby should live, but it will almost certainly be small and rather frail. That was what he said at the beginning, anyway.

Almost two days later, Tya was still in labour and no one was saying the baby was small anymore.

The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life, and she had already birthed four children. The room around her was slowly vanishing into a haze, the agony taking over every aspect of her being, the increasingly panicked rush of midwives and maesters around her fading into the background. She felt boiling hot, and her own breaths were ragged and uneven, her body drenched in sweat, the bed drenched in blood.

Tears were openly running down her face; she was irritated that she had any left after hours of agony. Perhaps they had been saved up, all those times she did not cry.

It seemed to be never-ending, only broken up by a midwife telling her to push every now and again. Too weak for anything else, Tya listened without question, anything to get the pain to stop. For the first time in the birthing bed, she wasn't sure she was going to make it through the ordeal alive, and felt the cold grip of fear overtake her as well as the pain.

'One last push' a distant voice said, so she did, screaming in agony through a hoarse throat, only to be met with not only the crying of a baby, but also the alarmed exclamation of one of the midwives, and an outbreak of furious muttering.

But she was barely aware of any of that, her vision starting to darken. When her head lolled limply to one side, everyone around her panicked even more than they were doing so already. There was a rush of activity, presumably to help her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. For once in her life, Tya was indifferent, apathetic. If I die the pain will stop.

No doubt there were many who would celebrate the news of her dying in a bed of blood. She'd made enemies enough, from the Freys to those who secretly supported the Reynes and Tarbecks to people at court who hated how high she'd risen and eagerly awaited her downfall.

That thought, if nothing else, brought her somewhat back to reality. The first woman to earn the position of Hand of the King could not die in childbed. She wasn't going to be that weak, wasn't going to die in such an ordinary, mundane way like countless feeble women before her. She was a mother, but she was Hand first, she would not reduce herself to a footnote in history, would not let dying this way define her.

She fought the darkness, fought to keep her heavy eyelids open, fought to focus on the people fussing around her, trying to stem the bleeding between her legs. It was harder than anything she'd ever done.

"Tya," They'd brought in Jason, she realised as her husband grabbed her clammy hand, squeezing tight, sounding more worried than she ever remembered him being. What about the septon, to pray for her immortal soul? "Gods," His tone did little to comfort her, though it gave her something to focus on, something to latch onto. Then he cleared his throat. "Our dear Master of Coin was causing trouble in the meeting yesterday. He's defensive again. He's got something to hide - I'll find out soon enough. He likes me, even if he despises you. If I can get him to trust that I wouldn't pass anything on to you, perhaps I'll discover some of his secret. You'll have to deal with him afterwards, of course. I'm sure you'll enjoy that,"

"Surely Lady Tya doesn't need to hear about the stress of her work right now, my lord?" She heard a reproachful voice say. "Perhaps speak of your children, or something less taxing?"

No, it's helping. A distraction, if nothing else; and being Hand came more naturally to her than motherhood. It took far too much effort to squeeze Jason's hand, which he squeezed back almost desperately. She knew he cared for her, of course - they were no longer the squabbling children they once were, even though they often argued behind closed doors - but it was strange seeing him show it in such an obvious way.

"Respectfully, Maester, please shut up," Her husband replied, turning back to her. "The king was asking after you. He seems to expect you back two days from now, so you'd better stop bleeding," That was a pointed threat at Pycelle if ever she heard one,

Jason would've said more, but a very unwelcome voice was coming up the stairs, loudly talking to one of the guards. Speak of the Stranger and he will appear.

"The babe has only just been born?" Aerys was saying, sounding confused. "But she started birthing it two days ago. She's normally back to work after three days. What's been taking so long? I'll be needing my Hand back in time for the Tyrell visit - no one deals with Lady Olenna like she does,"

If anything, hearing such a grating sound as his voice brought her back to reality a little more. Hot rage filled her, almost a balm to her pain. How dare he come here, uninvited, now? How dare he presume to intrude on such a private thing, when her own husband had only just been allowed in? It was beyond inappropriate, it was obscene. No doubt people would talk.

As a rule, Tya didn't swear, though several choice words came to mind now that she wished she wasn't too weak to put some vehemence behind.

"Oh not him," She heard herself mumble deliriously instead. "Get him away... don't want to - to die... hearing him," Not to mention she was lying with her legs open, a position she had never wished to be in in front of the king, although perhaps seeing her like this would cool his attraction to her somewhat. She was more bothered about him seeing her lying there gasping and moaning in agony, tears running down her face; even now she worried about seeming weak.

Jason let out a rather choked laugh. He quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks without mentioning it - a gesture that nearly had her sobbing in earnest - and left her side momentarily, presumably to deal with the king before he made it into the room.

It was too late, however. Maester Pycelle and the midwives were still trying to stem the flow of blood between her legs, and none of them even acknowledged the king's presence beyond a glance. No one bothered to cover her up either, though there was so much blood-soaked linen that he likely couldn't see much.

"Gods," She heard him say, and imagined his face blanching with no small amount of pleasure. "That's - that's a lot of blood. She's not meant to lose all that, surely," Thank you, Maester Aerys.

It occurred to her that he'd likely never seen the aftermath of childbirth before. He'd only had the one, after all, and that was in the aftermath of the tragedy at Summerhall so he probably hadn't seen Rhaella for days after. By then she'd have been scrubbed clean and made pretty again. There was nothing pretty about the state Tya was in now.

There was some hushed whispering, which she couldn't quite make out.

"She's dying?" The king didn't bother to lower his voice. He sounded more angry than concerned. "What? No, you can't let her. I need her, she's my Hand," He hesitated. "My friend," She wasn't so sure about that. "Pycelle, if you let Lady Tya die I'll see you strung up - "

"With all due respect, your Grace, your presence is not helping," Jason cut him off, tone flat and colder than he ever used with the king. Even when Aerys angered him, he always smiled through his response. "Let us leave the maester to work in peace,"

Surprisingly, the king had no angry response to that. There may have been a shocked expression, but she couldn't see.

"And what of the child? Did it survive?" He demanded instead.

She rather wanted to know the answer to that herself but was too exhausted and in pain to call out. Even breathing was laborious. There was some more mumbling, though it sounded distant now. Her vision was narrowing again, and her eyelids had never stopping being heavy.

"My lady," Someone was saying insistently, shaking her shoulder. "My lady, you can't sleep just yet. Lady Tya, please open your eyes. Tya. Tya,"

She had always resented taking orders from others.

That was her final thought before Tya finally succumbed to the darkness and slipped away.

*

When she awoke, the room was dark, though sunlight was seeping through a gap in the drapes. Morning.

She was quite surprised to wake. She almost wished she hadn't; every bit of her either ached or hurt like a stab wound. Tya tried to move and let out an unwilling gasp of pain. She had never felt more weak and feeble in her life.

The handmaid sat next to the bed let out a small cry at a sign of movement from her.

"Milady, you're awake!" She sounded breathlessly relieved. "It's been over a day. Let me fetch the maester," Before Tya could ask for some water, the girl had hurried off.

This is my last child, she vehemently decided there and then. No more birthing. This one had come far too close to killing her, despite the fact her first three pregnancies had been relatively straightforward. She tried not to focus on the blurred memories she had of pure agony and tears, of sheets soaked with sweat and blood, unfocused figures moving around her panicking.

Tya realised she didn't know yet whether she had a son or a daughter, or even if the child survived. Gods, she herself might still be carried off by a fever or infection in the next few days.

When the maester came in, he was not alone. Jason was there too, though not with their child in his arms as she'd hoped.

"What happened?" She demanded. "How is the babe?"

"You're not dead," He deflected instead; he never did that, knowing how she hated it. "That's good, I suppose," She saw the relief in his eyes, however.

"Answer my question," She narrowed her eyes, not in the mood for stupid quips. Her ordeal had put her in a bad enough mood that she wasn't inclined to be sympathetic. Not that she was usually.

Both men hesitated.

"Out with it," She ground out. "I won't drop dead if you tell me the babe didn't survive," She was tense nonetheless, a knot in her stomach, a lump in her throat. It was just because she had almost died herself, surely.

"The baby's alive," Jason assured her. She relaxed slightly. "A son. Though he's not healthy. Maester Pycelle isn't sure if he'll survive the week,"

"Fine," Though no mother rejoices to be told that her baby might not live very long, at least he wasn't dead yet. "The maester said the child was three weeks early," She paused. "Though he did not feel small and sickly in the least," The twins had been the smallest of her children and birthing them had been much, much easier than this one.

"Let me rephrase," Jason grimaced. "His body is small and frail but his head is enormous, and nearly tore you apart. Our son is a dwarf,"

"A - " She broke off, mouth setting in a straight line as she gathered herself. "A dwarf. I - " Rather embarrassingly, her words caught in her throat. "How can you tell?" She turned to Pycelle.

"As Lord Jason said, the child's head is very large," The maester cleared his throat. "And his limbs are small and stunted. You lost a lot of blood during the birth, Lady Tya. It's a miracle you survived, truly. We were lucky to stem the blood flow enough to stitch you back up in time, but you will still have to be very careful of fever and infection,"

"How much will he grow?" Was all she could ask.

"Those with his condition do not grow more than four and a half feet tall,"

She closed her eyes briefly. A dwarf. How could she and Jason have birthed such a deformed child? No doubt the court would relish in this news. That'll teach Lady Tya to rise too high above her station. It's good to see such pride brought low. This is what happens when a woman does men's work - her body starts to turn on her. An unnatural son for an unnatural lady - a fitting punishment from the gods for her arrogance.

"Will he be... slow-minded?"

"It's unlikely, my lady,"

At least it wasn't a stillbirth. She didn't go through all that pain and effort for nothing, even if the result was a son who would be mocked and belittled his entire life. Rage rose in her at the thought. They had laughed at her father, and she had ensured they would never laugh at her or Kevan. The idea of people laughing at a child of hers was truly sickening.

She couldn't bring herself to dwell on it any longer.

"Fine. When can I return to my work?" She needed the distraction.

"I do not recommend even leaving your bed for a month," Pycelle spoke the damning words. "After that, you may start walking short distances, but nothing too strenuous or for too long a period. You won't be fully recovered for months. I recommend at minimum two months rest before you resume your duties as Hand,"

"I can't be away for a week, let alone more than that,"

"I know you're accustomed to getting back to your work straight away," The maester was surprisingly firm, given he usually let her walk all over him. "But you'll be far weaker than you're used to being. You are a remarkable woman, Lady Tya, one I admire greatly. However, putting your body under so much strain will come with a price. Let yourself heal correctly now, rather than causing yourself problems in the future,"

"Aerys already named me acting Hand," Jason added. "In case you didn't wake up. I can't promise that I won't usurp your position, but better me than some social climber,"

"Don't even joke," She glared at him. "You're one of the reasons why I can't stay in bed for a month,"

"You nearly died," He glared right back. "Get over your pride for once and let yourself rest, Tya,"

There was a long pause, filled with a lot of glowering. But the ordeal of the last few days had actually terrified her, for all she tried to be her usual self, and so she backed down.

"Fine," It was a short, grudging answer.

Having checked her over, Pycelle left soon after that, leaving her alone with her husband. Jason wordlessly sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

"I'm not having any more children," She said to him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. "Not after that,"

"I thought that was settled after Damon," Her husband said, grimacing. "Pycelle would have been in a world of trouble if you died on account of his negligence with the moon tea. If his actions hadn't saved you, I'd have seen him dismissed already. Seeing you like that..." He broke off.

"I looked just like any other woman dying in childbed," Her lip curled. "And Aerys saw,"

"He shouldn't have come," Jason said rather darkly. "Who knows why he did. I don't want to cause you stress," The curl of his lip told all he thought of the maester's definition of stress. "But you'll want to know this - there's now rumours the child is Aerys', seeing as he visited you so soon. The fact that Targaryen babes are often born deformed is only fuelling the fire. I've heard some people claim the child has dragon horns and a tail,"

Tya let out a rather uncharacteristic curse directed at the king.

"It felt like he had dragon horns," She said, her tone sour. "What does he look like?"

"I can have him brought here," Jason rose to call a servant. Tya wasn't quite sure she was ready to see her dwarf son, but didn't object. "I've been calling him Tyrion, like we agreed, but you can change that if you like," It had been Tyrion for a boy or Lelia for a girl.

A nursemaid brought the child in, swaddled in blankets, and Jason took him off the girl before dismissing her.

"The maester was exaggerating," He said, sitting down beside her but not passing him to her just yet. "His head is large, and his legs are a little small, but apart from that, he looks quite normal. Well, he's got a bit of an evil eye - one's green, one's black,"

Baby Tyrion squirmed in his father's arms, grizzling slightly, and Tya found herself instinctively reaching out to take him but stopped before she did.

"Look," Jason sensed her hesitation and loosened the swaddling clothes slightly, pulling them back from the child's face. "He is just a baby,"

Tyrion wasn't a pretty baby. Jaime and Cersei had been as beautiful as newborns get, though Rohanne and Damon had both been red and wrinkled. Tyrion was outright ugly, there was no other way of putting it. Like Jason said, he had one black eye and one green, and his head was much larger than a normal child's. He tore you apart. She hadn't quite considered the reality of that until now.

But those mismatched eyes were clear and intelligent, staring up at her. One chubby fist broke free of the cloth around him and waved in the air. Her husband seemed to understand that she didn't want to hold the child - not yet, at least - which she was grateful for.

"Have the other children met him?" She said without much relish.

"No," Jason shook his head. "Not before I was sure you wouldn't bleed out on us. They know he's a dwarf, though. They've all been upset, as you can imagine. Cersei's been throwing tantrums for the last few days. Rohanne and Jaime have both been very quiet. Even Damon hasn't been himself. I can have them brought up, if you feel like seeing them,"

"One at a time," Tya said after a moment's consideration. "Cersei first - she'll take the most energy,"

And so her eldest daughter was shown into the room by her father. For all his talk of her tantrums and rage the last few days, the girl looked remarkably subdued. She ran to Tya with a strangled sob the moment she saw her, though thankfully stopped short of flinging herself at her.

"I thought you'd die," Cersei, who prided herself on never crying 'like a silly little girl', said with tears streaming down her face. "Everyone was saying you were dying, because that - that monster clawed its way out of you,"

Tya had never been good at dealing with excessive emotion, and was grateful when Jason let their daughter cry, clinging to him instead even as he held baby Tyrion.

"You shouldn't listen to everyone," She said. "They talk a lot of nothing,"

Cersei nodded, her sobs abating slightly.

"Is that it?" She narrowed her eyes at the bundle in her father's arms. "How can you hold that thing so close? It nearly killed you,"

Tya wasn't quite sure herself.

"It wasn't Tyrion's fault," Jason said, for her benefit as much as their daughter's she knew, as he cast a pointed look her way. "He's just a baby - he didn't choose to be born with a big head. And your mother will be fine, besides - she wasn't going to let a babe kill her," Cersei looked unconvinced. "You shouldn't be cruel to your brother. People will mock him enough as it is,"

"If they laugh at a Lannister, they'll regret it," Tya said sharply. She knew that at least, despite not being sure on what exactly she felt for her youngest child, the dwarf who had nearly been the end of her, who had reminded her she could die in the birthing bed like any other woman. Tyrion may be the cause of much mockery towards their family, but he was still a Lannister, no matter how she wished he was born normal.

"As if they would dare laugh to your face," Jason drawled at her, tone changing when he spoke to their daughter. "Although Cersei, I'm trusting you to make sure, when your mother isn't around, that no one is cruel to Tyrion. You're the eldest, after all. Do you think you can do that?" His expression dared Tya to stop him.

The girl still looked slightly doubtful.

"They shouldn't laugh at a Lannister," She agreed slowly. "Even if he is a stupid dwarf," She did seem to like the idea of doing her mother's job when Tya wasn't around. "But yes. I suppose I can do that,"

"Good," Jason smiled. "Would you like to hold him?"

Cersei glanced at her mother, who didn't object.

"Alright," The girl was used to holding Damon - even if she wasn't that keen on babies - so knew to sit on the bed and make sure Tyrion's head was supported when they passed him over. She stared at him, even poking his face, and actually smiled weakly when he grabbed her finger. "Jaime will like him," She eventually said. "He wanted another brother,"

*

Tyrion really will be the last of Tya's children and who can blame her? Obviously her feelings towards him are quite conflicted (the insulting language used concerning dwarfism here is a reflection on the character and certainly not how I'd describe someone like Tyrion) but I'd say that's a big improvement on what we got in canon. Tyrion also has both parents (a loving father, and a mother who... is not hateful at least), and a brother less than a year older than him, so hopefully won't be so lonely.

Both Jaime and Cersei also benefit from Tya being their mother rather than father; Jaime isn't heir to anything so it's not as important he learn how to rule, whilst Cersei has a mother who understands her interests and ambition and is willing to indulge her.

Anyway, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment if there's anything you'd like to see in the future of this story, or any improvements that need making. I'm very grateful to anyone who has pointed out a mistake in the last chapter (which was thankfully quickly fixed). Thanks for reading!