Chambers of Visenya & Tywin , Tower Of the Hand, Red Keep — King's Landing, Crownlands - Nightfall — Day of the Combat
Visenya was alone in the chambers, her mood rather good after all the shit she passed through. All that stress, all those worries and plans, the backstabbing and lies...all paid Off and all finally came to an end.
She was finally free of all of them and she had accomplished so many things that she could not help from keeping that prideful smile upon her lips. She had gotten rid of her dress and all her jewellery, her hair falling freely on her back.
She wore nothing but a simple silk red robe above her red night dress, the usual outfit of her choice at the end of the day. She walked towards the small table at the side of the chambers where two jugs and two goblets were.
She grabbed the jug with the wine and started to fill hers when the door to her chambers was opened and then closed, with a rather unusual force. The sound of the bolt being put into place reached her ears and she could feel the sharp gaze of her husband.
"I do believe this is yours," he said and tossed something on the empty desk. "Pulled from the Mountain's skull after the Combat."
His tone made it clear that he was not happy with what he had found.
Visenya drank some wine and kept the goblet in her hand before marching his way, her head high and not an ounce of remorse or guilt on her face. Her amber eyes fell on a familiar dagger, now coated with dried blood that had to be cleaned.
Yet, the engraving by the base of the blade was still visible; Arrax.
The ruler of the Valyrian Gods, the first flame that represented law, order, strength... and justice.
"Looks like one of mine," she said, taking another sip as her eyes went from the weapon to him.
He narrowed his eyes in warning; his hands placed behind his back to temporarily hold his temper in check.
"You rigged the combat," he pointed out, clearly displeased by what he had found out.
She lowered her goblet and moved to the front of the desk, closing the distance between them. Her chin was held up and not once did she look away, yet there was this glow of mischief within her amber orbs.
"The whole trial was rigged, if you want us to go there. But to be more specific, I did not do anything," she corrected him. "The rules state that no outside help is allowed once the combat starts. Whatever weapon Prince Oberyn has on him was up to him, not me."
Her answer did not seem to help with his temper, nor the ghost smirk that played on her lips. He knew that she was right but he was not going to admit it, feed more her new pride after she pulled the impossible.
He took a deep breath, staring her down for a solid minute. His hand itched to grab her neck and force her on her knees until she begged to be released for going against his back but he did not make any move, not yet.
"I believe I warned you what would happen if I ever found out that you went behind my back," he reminded her, his tone changing to a darker one but he still made no move.
Visenya was a little bit on guard, seeing the tension in his body and the darkness in his eyes. She knew she was poking the Lion and there would be consequences but she was not going to back down; she was a dragon and dragons never did.
"Is there anything that I can do without you eventually finding it out?" she asked rhetorically.
In his mind, the answer was a simple and easy no but in hers; it was a yes.
She had done things he had no idea and would never find out but she was not going to give him any hints that this was the case. Her words seemed to bypass his flaring temper and reach the logical part of his mind.
She was passively trying to reach his dominant and prideful side and from the changing patterns of his breathing, she knew she was succeeding.
"It is done now and we have earned more than we have lost," she continued saying, drinking some more wine. "Prince Oberyn got his revenge and will no longer come after our family. He will no longer come after my husband. Myrcella will be safe and sound in Dorne and we have just erased all the bad blood existing between the two families," she pointed out.
He was clearly weighing her words and everything in his mind because, at the end of the day, she did make a valid point. However, he was not going to give it to her that easily because some things were remaining that he had to deal with first.
"That wasn't part of the plan and we lost a grandson, someone that could extend our legacy," he reminded her, testing to see what more she had to say on the subject.
To his surprise, she rolled her eyes at him and placed her goblet on the desk by her left. She then craned her head to look up at him and tilted it faintly to the side.
"Plans change all the time based on the circumstances around them," she started, quoting one of his most basic lessons when he was tutoring her and he took notice as he remembered. "A boy that would eventually outgrow your influence and you would no longer be able to terrify him into obedience. A boy that would grow to become like Aerys and would eventually get out of our control," she corrected him. "You agreed with me that day that the boy was more of a liability than an asset."
She took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled it, letting any growing annoyance leave her body. There was no need for it, now that everything was done and the dark period of their lives was about to be over.
Visenya did not look away from him but did not continue speaking directly after. Instead, she chose to let some silent seconds between them, to allow him to think of the point she was making because she knew that deep down; he was agreeing but just would never openly admit it.
"Tommen is now King and he will wed Margaery," she continued in a softer tone. "Cersei will go to Highgarden with Loras and the boy will be free of her influence. You saw him, you tested him and saw that he has exactly what it takes to be a good king; especially with our influence and presence," she continued, pointing out every single thing that they have earned in the end. "The Tyrells are still our allies and I have successfully earned Olenna's trust and cooperation. Not to mention that now she cannot move against us without risking me exposing her of her part in the whole plan."
"Hmm," was his first reaction as the anger and his annoyance slowly subsided and went deep within his mind.
Tywin remained silent for a full straight minute, staring her down but any of his attempts to draw any more reaction from her were futile. She never backed down from his gaze, unless she knew she had screwed up and he was right.
He could try but he could see it in her eyes, the defiance that was glowing like the red specks scattered across her irises. She was not going to back down, she did not regret what she did and she even felt proud of what she had accomplished.
She wasn't the only one though.
He might not admit it fully but he was proud as well. It did annoy him that she moved a lot behind his back and that he was not aware of all of her steps but he would be lying if he said he was not pleased with the results.
She had put all her cunning, her acting and all her skills into this huge play; planning ahead the most complicated of strategies and battle plans only to end up victorious either way.
He finally felt his lips twitching and the urge to smirk was becoming far greater than before. He chose not to leave her anymore in silence and let his famous smirk appear on his face.
"I do believe then I should congratulate you on your devious and very sneaky plan, then," he said with some irony. He took the goblet from her side and took a few sips of the wine before looking down at her. "I might do that, once I learn how you managed to persuade all of them to work not with you but for you."
It was her turn to smirk as she took the goblet from his hand and placed it back on the desk while leaning her body slightly forward.
"They didn't know the full number of players in the game, there was no need." she started, eyes glowing with mischief. "As to how I managed... well, let us just say that I acted my role..." she joked, earning his full interest as their faces were now closer. "In their eyes, I am the poor, unfortunate and innocent but smart wife married to this very bad, ruthless and controlling Lion. In their eyes, I am easy prey to work with... with the right encouragement."
His smirk remained but there was a twinkle of amusement in his green eyes, the light of the candles bringing out the golden flecks like true pieces of gold. He extended one hand to hold her chin and force her to crane her head just a little bit more than necessary.
"Last time I checked, you are far from any of those things," he mused. "Especially poor or innocent," he continued, bringing his lips to say those last words next to her ear; the sensation making her skin fill with faint goosebumps.
She kept her composure and her amber eyes moved to the side, trying to get as much glimpse as they could of him while her one hand was placed flat against his chest; holding the faintest of resistance.
"And who says I am not innocent?" she joked but felt the tiniest bits of regret when she heard his chuckle.
It was low and rather dark, something she did not get often. It was one of warning, a sign that he was about to prove her wrong.
"Is that so?" he asked in a huskier tone, his breath tickling her ear.
"Yes," she breathed out, her voice rather stable despite the warmth slowly pooling between her legs from his small teasing.
He took a step forward and she subconsciously stepped back, only to feel the desk pressing at her waist. His other hand moved between her legs and pressed her dress right on top of her womanhood without any warning.
The sudden move sent a sudden jolt of electricity through her body and she reacted by trying to move back, only for him to move his hand and somehow force her to sit on the desk.
"Innocent wives don't open their legs like someone I know," he said as he pulled his head back to look at her. He released her chin and moved to stand almost fully between her legs.
His one hand hitched her night dress higher, exposing more of her leg and her smooth skin. His other let the fingers move between all the obstacles and tease one of her most sensitive areas.
She took a deep breath in reaction, looking into his eyes that were filled with hunger but also challenge. The smirk on his lips was that of personal amusement as he took notice of her reaction and how hard she tried to keep her composure but failed; evident by the force she was using to hold the edges of the desk.
Her legs had remained open just like he had pointed out, her own body betraying her mind and bending under his touch; without him having to try much. Her cheeks had a faint pink hue on them, her lips parted faintly as she looked at him through hooded eyelids.
He brought his face closer to hers, their lips almost touching as his fingers kept working; slowly.
"However, I do believe even the least of innocent girls deserve some reward," he said, his breath reaching her lips.
He moved and somehow managed to be fully between her legs before lifting her. Years had not taken away his strength as he carried her towards the bed and tossed her on the mattress.
He stood by the edge of the bed and stared her down with hungry eyes but her body reminded her that he was in full control of his body and hers. He could sense her arousal between his fingers, a manly pride growing within him at how much she lacked control when he was around.
He crawled on top of her, sealing her lips with his, but let it last only a few seconds before pulling away. His hands moved with practiced ease, sliding the robe from her shoulders and arms, exposing more of her skin to the cool air of the chamber. Her nightdress was pushed higher once again, the fabric gathering around her thighs.
Then, Tywin did something Visenya never would have imagined him capable of.
He lowered himself, his lips finding a place only his fingers and his body had ever truly known.
For a moment, her mind simply blanked.
Visenya did not know how she had earned such a reward, nor when the proud Lord of Casterly Rock had become so skilled in such things, but she did not waste long questioning it. Her fingers tightened around the bed sheets beneath her, searching for something to anchor herself to as pleasure rushed through her body in waves.
She bit down on her lip, trying to contain the sounds threatening to escape, but it was useless. Soft gasps and broken moans filled the room despite her efforts, each one only seeming to encourage him further.
All the stress, the tension, the endless schemes and political games of the past weeks melted away beneath his touch.
Still, she knew Tywin well.
If he let her escape with only pleasure and no consequence, then surely some imposter had taken his place.
This was a reward, yes—but also a reminder.
He was rewarding her for how brilliantly she had played her game, for how she had maneuvered pieces across the board and emerged victorious. But he had not forgotten that she had moved behind his back, had involved Oberyn, had taken down one of his most useful soldiers, and had done so without apology.
Tywin Lannister was not a man who made empty warnings.
He removed the last layers that restricted him, never taking his eyes from her. He did not give her time to recover, nor the chance to fully gather herself again before he moved above her.
One hand settled around her throat—not cruelly, but firmly—enough to remind her exactly who held control in that moment.
His face lowered close to hers, and he kissed her again, harder this time, full of hunger and ownership. It silenced her first sharp breath as he claimed what was his, his grip steady, his body pressing her deeper into the mattress.
The message was clear.
She was not fighting him. She never did when it was like this.
Instead, her hands moved to his shoulders, then lower across his back, her dark-painted nails dragging against his skin and leaving red marks in their wake. The reaction it earned from him—a low groan against her lips—only sent more warmth through her.
His pace deepened, stronger now, yet controlled. He knew her too well. Each time she neared the edge, he slowed, deliberately cruel in his patience, only to give her exactly what she needed when he chose.
It was always like this.
She never begged.
But she pleaded.
And he always made sure she did.
Her voice, breathless and low, whispered his name like both accusation and prayer. His forehead rested briefly against hers, their breaths mixing in the dim candlelight as the world beyond those walls disappeared.
For all their power, all their titles, all the politics and blood and crowns—
here, in the quiet darkness of their chambers—
there was only this.
The Lion and his Dragon.
And in the end, as always, she was his and he was hers.
Visenya dreamt that night that she was back at the Trident. The sky above her was dark, the sound of the battle raging all around her and the only thing she could smell was mud and blood. She was fighting on the ground, her sword in hand as men fought and died all around her.
She saw Rhaegar heading straight for Robert, both riding their loyal steeds. She remembered where this was going to lead and she could not stand to watch it a second time. She rushed towards them but the men fighting blocked her path.
She pushed, sliced and killed anyone in her way as in the far distance her nephew was fighting for his life. She pushed a soldier to the side, not caring if it was one of her own or not; it did not matter to her at that moment.
Her heartbeat was echoing in her head, her breathing was ragged and her limbs felt heavy as if they were made of lead and not of flesh and bone. She looked ahead and saw Rhaegar getting hit by Robert's war hammer.
She saw him falling off his horse and landing on the muddy river shores below, the rubies of her armour flying in the air and landing in the raging waters next to him.
"Rhaegar!" she shouted with all her might, feeling overwhelmed by witnessing his death a second time.
She tried to approach, she pushed and shouted but she felt as if she was not making any progress. Suddenly, she froze and she felt this warning deep within her as if something big was coming.
The world around her turned silent, everyone moving into the background of her attention and she just looked where her nephew was supposedly lying dead. Only she did not see his body or Robert standing victorious above it or anyone in general.
She blinked and noticed that the people around her had disappeared and all that was left was her and a shadow that was materializing from where Rhaegar was. She blinked and parted her lips, taking a few steps back subconsciously as the shadow took shape and became solid.
The blackness started to fade and instead, she could see green and bronze scales somehow reflecting a weak light and bringing out the unique details of this natural lizard-like armour. A pair of glowing amber eyes looked at her and she could see them clearly despite the distance between them. A pair of wings was extended and each wing was in the shade of jade green.
A strong wind was created with only a few flaps of them.
The majestic dragon started to gain more and more height, rising above the battlefield and Visenya could only crane her neck and stare at the creature. She saw it flying higher, rising from the very same spot her nephew had died and she knew...that it was him.
She remembered an old fairytale passed from generation to generation, talking about how a Targaryen that died a worthy death was blessed by Aegarax and would be reborn as a dragon; given a second chance on this planet.
Suddenly, the Dragon started to descend and it started to head straight for her. Her mind told her she should run but her body did not obey. She stood frozen and could only watch as the Dragon opened its jaws and let out fire.
The fire was a mix of yellow and orange with green veins standing out.
She closed her eyes and waited for the sensation of burning fire. She did not know how it felt but she expected some pain, some reaction but all she felt was an unusual but comforting warmth.
It wrapped around her body like the embrace of a mother and she felt as it was passing through her skin, reaching deep within her core. As she focused on that odd sensation, she heard the roar of the Dragon echoing all around her and she woke up.
Her eyes snapped open first and she inhaled sharply, her vision blurry and unfocused for a few moments. Once she managed to get rid of the blurriness and remind herself that she was in her chambers, she managed to exhale and she could feel her racing heart slowing down.
She then sensed that she was not alone in the room and she turned her focus towards the side of the bed, only to meet a pair of eyes; one green and the other brown. She jolted her upper body to a more sitting position but she did not dare to make another move as she realized that a loaded crossbow was pointed at her.
"Hello, Good-Mother."
"Tyrion," she exclaimed, not hiding her surprise.