A Lioness Still Has Claws | Female Tywin Lannister | ASOIAF/GOT

Burn Them All

282AC

Grand Maester Pycelle had been the only witness to an uncharacteristically obvious display of rage the night he delivered that damning news of Rhaegar and Lyanna's disappearance.

It wasn't often that Tya Lannister lost control. She had managed twenty years at Aerys' side without doing so, even if she had made her anger very clear on many occasions. Yet that night in the gloomy, candlelit solar, with faint a ringing in her ears, Tya had swept over to her desk as the Grand Maester continued to speak. She paused for a moment, before grabbing the decanter of wine that had been left there and dashing it on the floor with a noise of fury. 

The red wine inside splashed all up her robe, as she slammed both hands onto the desk hard enough to make everything on it shake. Pycelle said nothing, though seemed slightly taken aback by her temper, which was rarely so dramatic as this.

"Is every blasted Targaryen half a step from descending into madness?" She snarled, beginning to pace up and down her solar, shattered glass crunching under her booted heel. "Is there some disease of the mind caught from sitting the Iron Throne too long? Or is it that they have been marrying brother to sister for three hundred years and are lucky to not have webbed feet?"

She was grateful there was no one else residing in the Tower of the Hand, dimly aware that she would have made a right sight to behold. The Hand of the King storming around her own solar in a robe that had come undone, red wine splashed up her nightclothes, fit to tear out her own hair.

"Though a king with webbed feet would be a damn sight preferable to a prince who kidnaps the daughter of a great lord a month after his own wedding - the night before her own! - from the very castle belonging to her betrothed. If I did not know he would murder my entire family in a heartbeat, I would reinstate Aerys to the throne under the condition he name Viserys heir!"

Tya let herself drop, unladylike, into the chair behind her desk, allowing herself a moment with her head in her hands, pretending Pycelle was not still in the room (the man seemed to want to be anywhere but here, besides, not wanting her rage to turn on him for whatever reason). Then she pulled herself together.

"Bring me a candle," She could not keep a hint of weariness from her voice as she reached for a sheath of paper and a quill. "There's work to be done,"

Now not only would running the entire kingdom be left as her responsibility - and despite the circumstances, that did manage to cause a small thrill - she would now have to prevent a war.

Many ravens flew from the rookery that night, mainly to Storm's End, to demand she be updated on the situation and to request an audience with both Houses Stark and Baratheon. Tya did not return to her bed. When the rosy light of dawn began to creep through the windows, she was still writing despite the cramping in her hands, still in her nightclothes, hair a mess around her face. 

That was how Rhaella found her. The queen had not appeared more faded and tired since before Aerys was locked up. 

"Is it true?" She asked, voice barely more than a whisper. "Pycelle said..." She broke off, unable to even voice what she was trying to say. "My son is no raper," Her tone became stronger. "He's not his father, he would not kidnap Lady Lyanna,"

"Whether he kidnapped her or seduced her into going by choice, he has likely still started a war," Tya replied sharply, lack of sleep doing nothing to soften her tone. "With the prince missing, Aerys locked up, and Viserys a child, you are now Queen Regent," Her friend blanched, startled. "Between us, we will have to hold the Seven Kingdoms together,"

"I'm not like you, Tya," Rhaella said, almost pleading. "I can't govern a kingdom - I wouldn't know where to start," 

Tya knew the queen was shaken from the news, seeing as she did not normally act so weak and frantic.