Chapter 30

King's Landing – Tywin

As Tywin raced down the hill from his encampment, his horse's hooves churned up the dust beneath his feet, adding to the already poor visibility of the night. Tywin was solely focused on the task before him, and not what he'd left behind in his camp.

He could only pray that this wasn't some elaborate trap, to draw him out of his secure position and leave Sansa and Jaime vulnerable. Tywin did not even want to contemplate what he might do if someone were to hurt his wife.

He noted that his commands had already begun to be carried out. Men in red and gold armour hurried towards the gates of the capital, already marshalling the people away from the fire.

When he'd called his banners, the lords of the West had responded immediately. He saw Lord Lewys Lydden rushing to command his men. Others, men that Tywin had ridden to war with before, fell in behind Kevan and Stannis. Garrison Prester, one of Tywin's most trusted bannermen was there, along with Roland Crackhall, and Elys Westerling.

Tywin had left his goodbrother Stafford, along with Steffon Swyft in camp. Steffon would be helpful to Tygett – the man was Kevan's goodbrother and heir of Harys Swyft. Stafford, Joanna's brother, unfortunately, wasn't the brightest Lannister and so Tywin left him behind, where he could do the least amount of damage.

Currently, it appeared the wildfire was only in the south-eastern corner of the city, in the castle that overlooked Blackwater Bay.

Tywin knew the Red Keep well. After all, he'd been Hand for years here. So he understood what he was faced with if he hoped to get to the castle and find the Mad King without having to be told. It was a distinct advantage that he had over Lord Stark and Prince Oberyn.

It would not be easy to get to the Red Keep; especially with the fire, smoke, burning buildings and the fear of the common people adding to the chaos of the night. King's Landing was a seething mass of humanity at the best of times. And nothing about this evening was good. But Tywin knew that way well and was confident in his ability to make it to the castle. He was nothing if not determined – he wanted to end Aerys once and for all.

He approached the Lion's Gate, one of seven massive gates meant to protect the capital, to see that it was thrown open. People streamed out, pushing and shoving, their fear mixing into an unmistakable stench that Tywin knew well. One could smell it on the battlefield, or when Tywin had called someone to the Tower of the Hand to answer to him. For so long, people had feared him and that fear had given him power.

Tywin was slightly baffled at the crush of humanity, given that as far as he could ascertain, the fire was contained within the footprint of the Red Keep. And while there were several thousand people that called the Red Keep home, it was nothing compared to the half a million that lived below Aegon's High Hill. But it seemed like seeing the Red Keep alight with wildfire had driven everyone in King's Landing from their beds – even if most didn't appear to be in any immediate danger.

"Thank the gods," he muttered to himself, thinking if his suspicions were correct, the death toll might not be quite as high as he first feared.

His task would be next to impossible if the entire capital been consumed by wildfire, as were the King's intentions. Someone else must have had a hand in this night, to keep the wildfire contained. Tywin had a strong suspicion who that someone was. That made him grimace.

There was no love lost between Tywin and the eunuch that served as Aerys' Master of Whispers.

There was a reason that Varys was called the Spider and why he was an excellent spymaster for the King. Sansa had spoken at length about Varys when Tywin had asked her about the eunuch. Her responses hadn't inspired any more trust in the man than Tywin had when he was Hand.

Sansa told Tywin that it was Varys that would work to bring Daenerys back to Westeros with her dragons several years from now. But Sansa did seem reasonably confident that above being a Targaryen loyalist, what the man truly wanted was what best for the common people.

And clearly, Aerys had proven that he was not best for the common people – not when he was willing to burn them all.

If Varys had a hand in this night if he had done as Tywin suspected, it would make this night far less tragic than Tywin had first feared.

Many who had never been to King's Landing failed to understand the layout of the castle built by the Targaryens. The Red Keep was a castle within a castle and there were massive curtain walls surrounding each castle. Each section of the wall had nests and crenelations for archers. There were thick stone parapets over four feet high to protect the outer edge of the wall ramparts, and each of the walls had great bronze gates and portcullises to protect the inner castle.

Most importantly the Red Keep was isolated from the rest of King's Landing – standing tall and proud on Aegon's High Hill.

If it had been Tywin defending this city, he'd have pulled all his men back to defend the Red Keep itself, for its location gave it a great advantage.

Any who approached would have to face down a barrage of archers that could line the outer walls. The design of the Red Keep gave the advantage to those with the higher ground – namely those inside the castle walls. And that didn't even account for the fact that the castle had great corner forts and its own granaries, stables, kitchens, dungeons and secret passageways. A well-stocked Red Keep could be relatively easily defended for weeks if not months.

And even if one were to make it to the top of the Hill without being cut down by archers, to get to the King, they would have to breach Maegor's Holdfast, which itself was a massive square fortress inside the heart of the Red Keep. This castle-within-a-castle was situated behind walls twelve feet thick with a dry moat lined with iron spikes. Within the Holdfast were the royal apartments, including the King's chambers.

It was a well-fortified and easily defendable keep and anyone with any sense of military tactics could have held off an invading army for months.

Even if Aerys had been worried that Rhaegar would fall, the man was an idiot to burn the place to the ground, Tywin thought disdainfully.

He had the high ground and had given it away. And for what? To be reborn a dragon?

Didn't the fool know that all men died? It was what they left behind that mattered. It was the family name that lived on – it was the only thing that lived on. More important than personal glory was the legacy one passed down to his children and their children and their children's children. That was what was left of a man when he was rotting in the ground – the family name.

Not this. Never this.

Thanks to Sansa, Tywin knew that Aerys was without a single Kingsguard. Jaime was in the Lannister camp. Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent were all at the Tower of Joy, guarding Lyanna Stark of all people.

That was yet another matter they'd need to settle, though Tywin had his thoughts on that that he'd yet to share with his wife. Tywin was almost certain that he and Sansa would not see eye to eye on how to handle yet another Targaryen baby.

Ser Barristan Selmy and Prince Lewyn Martell were at the Trident by Rhaegar's side, although Lewyn was likely dead. Tywin had spent countless nights with Sansa in his bed, going over everything she knew about the events of the end of the rebellion. The sheer volume of what his wife knew staggered Tywin daily.

But even with all his guards gone, Aerys still had the City Watch. Had he been thinking clearly, properly, he'd have pulled every man that could defend him back to the Red Keep to defend the walls, while he huddled inside and called for reinforcements.

But he had not.

Because more than just being mad, Aerys was a poor king. He'd relied far too heavily on others to run his kingdom – men like Tywin. He had never learned proper military strategy or how to defend his own home. And Tywin had not an ounce of empathy for a man that had been the architect of his own ruin.

The closer they got to the enormous walls surrounding the city, the worse the stink became – not just smoke but burning and terror.

Tywin glanced up and saw the green flames consuming the Red Keep. It was still the only place affected by wildfire. Ironically that design that was meant to repel an attack, now contained the fire within those double set of walls, allowing all the people that lived in the various parts of King's Landing time to escape.

"My lord, this way," Kevan called, taking point and riding in front of Tywin, as they entered the city.

Everywhere Tywin looked, confused people raced past him, and though he did not change his expression from the stony visage, internally he grieved for those that would lose their lives tonight for nothing more than a mad king's arrogant disdain for them.

Tywin's throat burned as the acrid smell of smoke became heavier as they road through the Lion's Gate. Here, people broke for the horses charging towards them, and everywhere Tywin looked were men in crimson and gold helping the common people who were in their nightclothes.

Women clutched at babies while small children wailed, tugging at their parents, and men that were nothing more than cobblers, smiths and bakers, looked around in dazed confusion.

Tywin would never know who spotted him first, but the sheer panic of the crowd subtly shifted. A sudden stillness seemed to permeate the air as his name was bellowed into the night.

Even over the pounding of his horse's hooves, he heard their cries.

And what he heard stunned him.

They were relieved to see him. It was gratitude in which his name rang out. Gratitude and jubilation!

Not fear.

"The Great Lion has arrived to save us all!"

"Lord Tywin had returned to the city to save us from the Mad King."

"That true Hand is back. He will not let us burn!"

Never one to miss an opportunity, Kevan bellowed, "Listen to your lord, Tywin of House Lannister! Evacuate the city calmly and allow Lord Tywin to restore peace and order to King's Landing."

Sansa had told him that he should liberate King's Landing instead of sacking it. He'd given the order himself to his men that they were there to save the city, not sack it. He'd hoped to reap the benefit of being seen as the saviour instead of a conqueror.

But for a man that had been feared, hated and reviled most of his life, it was a heady feeling to be acknowledged as a hero. He felt his chest puff and swell and knew that stories would be told about this night – stories that cast him as a saviour – as a rescuer. And he was not a man to waste an opportunity – and certainly not a golden one like this.

Tywin stilled his horse, revelling in the looks of relief on the faces of those that pressed closer to him. He'd never seen such devotion from the people before, and even he felt swept up in the moment.

"House Lannister has come to liberate King's Landing from the tyrannical rule of House Targaryen and the Mad King Aerys!"

Even scared, chased from their bed, uncertain of their future, those nearest to him let out a cheer.

For once in his life, he was on the receiving end of praise well deserved.

"Our alliance has said NO MORE to the rule of dragon! When people ask you about this day, remember who saved you! Remember who came to your aid! Remember that the lions of House Lannister saved King's Landing!"

Tywin caught a slightly stunned look on Stannis's face, as the adoration was now heaped upon him, and a quirk of Kevan's lips. Both he and Kevan knew that Sansa's advice had been correct – a liberator was far more loved than a conqueror. Fear had its place in any man's rule, of that there was no doubt, but tonight, Tywin represented hope.

With another mighty cheer, Tywin kicked his horse, eager now to find Aerys and end this.

Seeing the Lannister army intermingled with Stannis's men brought an almost immediate calm to the chaos of the night. People that had been shoving at one another, eager to leave, now filed out of the city in a more orderly fashion as they realized that none of the soldiers would hurt them.

Everywhere Tywin looked, his men were doing as he'd ordered.

Some were herding groups of evacuees into makeshift lines to most expediently leave the city. Others had raced ahead to go to Cobbler's Square and ensure the Gate of the Gods was open for those gathered there. Another group had started to push forward towards the Red Keep and Tywin knew that they would be the men who would start the bucket line, filled with dirt to attempt to extinguish the green flames.

Tywin wasted no time, urging his mount forward towards the Guildhall of the Alchemists. This was arguably the most uncertain part of his route, for this was where they made the wildfire. Sansa had told him how Aerys and his pyromancers had put wildfire underneath all the main thoroughfares: the Sept of Baelor, the Guildhall and other main buildings, ensuring that the entire capital would burn right alongside him and the Red Keep.

"Madness," Tywin muttered, shaking his head as he rode hard towards the center of King's Landing.

Tywin was counting on Varys having put a stop to the King's plan to light the entire city on fire, using his extensive network of little birds to do so. It was self-serving that the eunuch wouldn't want the city to burn.

But at any time, if a single spark was lit, the same road on which Tywin and his men rode could erupt in flames. It would mean instant death, of that there was no doubt.

There were other men that would not be where he was – men that would have allowed their generals and loyal bannermen to find the Mad King. There were men that would not have entered the city until it was safe.

But Tywin could not leave finding Aerys to anyone else. They had a score to settle, and it was long past due. And Tywin had never been craven in his life. He wasn't about to start now when his revenge on the man that had wronged him was so close.

He urged his mount harder, eating up the stony ground on the main street that would lead him to the Red Keep, needing to be there already. Tywin barely noticed the people scrambling by, although the presence of his army and the ones of Stannis and Oberyn had restored a modicum of calm to the night's proceedings.

They approached the Guildhall of the Alchemist, and now, closer to the Red Keep, Tywin gazed upon Aegon's High Hill to see the bucket line had begun. Pride for those wearing his colours filled him – how quickly his men responded, how they listened to him and carried out his orders without question.

For a moment, Tywin debated whether it was worth it to attempt to extinguish the flame.

Was it even possible?

Or did they let it all burn, a true testament to a dying House?

The walls surrounding the castle were made of pale red stone, and inside, more thick stone walls. The greatest danger was the passageways that connected underground the Red Keep – endless miles of them. Even beneath the Tower of the Hand, the chamber of the dragon mosaic led to secret corridors that Tywin had not fully explored. It was a vast expanse and the perfect conduit for wildfire should it spread.

Which begged the question – where had Aerys begun his wildfire plot?

Was it at the winding steps, where the Great Hall and Maidenvault were found?

Or had he started it below the steps, in Maegor's Holdfast, where the small council chambers and Tower of the Hand were?

Tywin hated that he did not know – hated that he was ignorant of the King's plans and what dangers he might encounter.

What became apparent as they reached the Guildhall was that those closest to the Red Keep had been the first to flee. The streets, shops and homes here were almost devoid of people, and it confirmed Tywin's suspicions that someone in Aerys' confidence had been privy to the King's plans – someone with his own ambitions and eyes and ears everywhere in King's Landing.

Someone like Varys, who advocated for the common people.

And there was no way this was best for the people that lived in King's Landing.

How could anyone trust a king that would do something like this? The short answer was, they could not and Tywin meant for everyone in the Seven Kingdoms to know what Aerys, what a Targaryen had chosen on this night. Tywin would ensure that nothing could be reborn out of this madness.

At the Guildhall, Tywin paused, looking northwest down the street of the sisters, another main thoroughfare in the capital. This street led straight to the sunken dragon pit and to the Dragon Gate, which connected with the King's Road going north.

These were some of the less crowded areas of the capital, places that a person could move about without a crush of humanity pressing against them. Tywin had made a point to know the capital even though he did not enjoy his time here.

But his like or dislike for this place mattered naught at this moment. He would save this city even if he meant to rebuild it into something different. There was no denying that King's Landing was a vital port and essential for trade in Westeros. Aerys had been far too consumed with petty vengeances and perceived slights to care about ruling properly.

But not Tywin. He meant for Westeros to prosper under his leadership and that of those in his alliance.

Ned Stark would enter Kings Landing with Robert's vanguard through the Dragon Gate, with men from the Vale, the North and the Stormlands at his back. Tywin wanted to ensure that he was unimpeded when he arrived with his army. The very last thing Tywin needed right now was to cock up his tentative alliance with the young Northern lord. Ned Stark's wife was an asset to him, and Tywin wanted access to the North.

While Tywin might break the Seven Kingdoms apart, he had no intentions of letting these regions flounder about on their own. A strong alliance between the West, the North, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Stormlands and the Crownlands would virtually assure that Tywin could influence each region without sitting on that dreadful Throne. There was more than one way to rule Westeros as Tywin well knew.

Tywin looked to Stannis, who had stopped alongside him. The man was so different from his older brother; lean and stern and highly focused on the task was before them. Robert had already developed a reputation as a drunken, whoring lout, but the same could not be said for Stannis.

"Send men to the Dragon's Gate to ensure it is open for Lord Stark. He brings what remains of your brother's army to the capital from the Trident and will enter there," Tywin pointed to the gate.

"And when Ned Stark arrives, he is to find me, immediately."

Stannis nodded, turning to give the orders. It boded well that his men listened to him, a contingent of them racing down the street of the sisters to ensure Ned Stark had access to the capital and to meet the remaining army from the Stormlands.

"Soon, you will have your full army, Lord Baratheon," Tywin said, watching the man closely to assess his reaction to that statement.

Some men saw armies as nothing more than theirs by right of their birth – and while that was true, there was a symbiotic relationship between the man that commanded the army and those that served in it. Too many highborn lords had failed to realize what they owed the men who served beneath them. Robert was one such man. Tywin hoped Stannis was not.

Stannis's chin notched up, and he straightened in his saddle even more, if possible. There was a steely core in this man, and he was not, by nature, a boastful man. But he'd earned his place beside Tywin, and the Great Lion was interested to see what fruits these relationships with these younger lords would bear in the months and years to come.

"I look forward to taking my place as their commander, Lord Tywin. They have fought bravely and well for my region," was all Stannis said. His response pleased Tywin. It was not boastful, but merely a statement of fact.

This close to Red Keep, even with a huge hill to climb in front of them, the stench from the burning castle was heavy in the air. It mixed with the unmistakable tang of human flesh that had burned, along with that of timber and stone. Wildfire was utterly decimating, and even rock could not withstand its heat. Tywin did not know what they might find when they finally made it to the top of the Hill before them.

Every so often, the entire ground shook as if the once-proud home of the Targaryens did not want to let go without a fight. Tywin had a feeling that by the time the fire was extinguished, the Red Keep would be nothing more than ash.

Their journey would only become more hellish the higher they climbed. They would somehow have to breach the gates and enter a city consumed by fire to find the Mad King.

As Tywin turned to Kevan, he saw his brother thank some lords from the West for their report. Everyone in the Lannister army knew that Kevan was Tywin's second in command. It had been that way for over two decades, and together they were a formidable duo.

"What news of Oberyn?" Tywin demanded. More than anything, information was vital in the folly of this night.

"He came in through the King's Gate, along River Row, past the Harbour and into Fishmonger's Square."

Tywin merely glowered at Kevan, who didn't even flinch at his stern expression. Kevan had been by Tywin's side in far too many battles to take offence to Tywin's expression at the moment.

"He turned from there, up Muddy Way and is now attempting the Hook."

Tywin snorted. The Hook.

Stannis's raised an eyebrow with an unasked question there. Tywin recalled that he'd been here only once or twice when he'd been much younger, and so was likely far less familiar with the layout of King's Landing, including the infamous street.

"A more wretched street in this place I've not found. And attempting it while smoke obscures one's view, with an army at your back and fiery stone about to reign down on them will be no easy task."

Kevan gave a sly grin. He was, after all, a lion as well, and though perhaps not quite as mighty as Tywin, had pride and ego to spare. And Kevan, like all Lannisters, liked to win.

"No, My Lord, it will not be," Kevan responded.

Tywin looked at Stannis and allowed a rare twitch of his lips.

"A lesson, Storm Lord. When you are commanding armies, even with your alliance, ensure you give the army you trust the least the most difficult task."

Stannis didn't smile, but Tywin swore his eyes gleamed a bit brighter. Tywin quite liked this Stannis Baratheon.

"Yes, My Lord. An important lesson indeed."

"Come. Let us go and find King Aerys and end this madness," Tywin said and kicked his horse to begin the climb to the top of Aegon's High Hill.

Other men, lesser men, cowardly men, might have had others lead. But not Tywin. He wanted to see the whites of Aerys' eyes when the Mad King realized who had finally bested him.

Tywin led his men up the hill, making short work of the climb despite the rapidly dimming visibility. The smoke was thicker the higher they rode, but he knew this route well, and without archers on the walls to impede their climb, it was simply a matter of following the road to the top.

For a brief moment, when he crested the hill, Tywin paused to scan his surroundings. The Red Keep was not as large as Winterfell in its footprint. The great northern castle was over twenty acres, and this castle was perhaps half that size. Still, the thick red sandstone walls surrounding the hill, coupled with the solid bronze doors, would have been time-consuming to breach had the castle been appropriately manned.

Closer now, he could see that no portion of the wall was manned – not the nests and crenelations designed explicitly for archers, nor any of the corner forts. It appeared all but abandoned, with one of the great bronze gates open.

All of the massive drum towers appeared to be engulfed in flame, and Tywin suspected that the fire had started beneath the Great Hall, in one of the many secret passageways and tunnels that littered the grounds. They might never know for sure where the fire began, but since everything above the steps was now burning, Tywin could only assume that all those buildings below the steps were engulfed in flames as well.

"Such utter waste," Tywin muttered crossly, his lips turning down in disdain. He felt his blood roil at what had gone on this night.

Cautiously, with Kevan and Stannis on either side, Tywin cantered towards the single open gate.

Clearly, there would be no battle. The closer he came to the bronze gate, the more he was convinced that there were two forms outside the gate. They appeared stationary as if they were waiting for Tywin.

Outwardly, Tywin's face remained implacable.

But inside, his heart raced, and if pressed, he'd admit, to Sansa perhaps, that his palms grew slightly sweaty with anticipation.

How long had he waited to have this moment? How long had he wanted revenge on the man that had assaulted his wife, planting his vile seed inside her, impregnating her with a child that would take her life? And then, when Aerys had stolen his heir, naming him Kingsguard, Tywin had thought he'd never have his revenge.

But everything had changed a year ago with the visions of Sansa. Tywin cared naught that he was obliterating the timeline she knew. Eliminating a man that had caused him so much personal pain was all that mattered.

As Tywin approached, it became evident who was trussed up and waiting for him.

The Mad King, Aerys himself, bound like a common criminal. And standing guard over him, Lord Varys, who'd somehow procured a wicked-looking lance and held it at the King's throat. Varys was wrapped in a ridiculous robe of blue and gold silk, his face serene, only adding to the absurdity of the night.

Aerys was blindfolded, gagged, and both wrists and ankles were wrapped in thick manacles.

Still, the King writhed with what little latitude Varys had given him.

It was clear that he was furious.

The thundering of hooves altered both men to Tywin's arrival as he took in the scene before him. He had imagined various scenarios, including the disappointing one that they'd find the King's burnt bones and revenge would be denied to him.

He'd imagined the King locked in a room, frothing and raving as they broke down the door.

He'd imagined finding Aerys burnt onto his beloved Iron Throne.

Tywin had imagined any number of scenarios. But he'd never imagined this.

Tywin was almost speechless.

Almost, but not entirely.

"Lord Varys," Tywin rasped, the smoke making his throat burn.

Tywin saw the moment that Aerys knew it was him, for the man attempted to buck, and there was a muffled scream from behind the gag.

Did the fool think Tywin was here to save him?

Or did he know his fate was sealed?

Varys dipped his head.

"Lord Tywin."

Aerys kicked frantically when Varys confirmed it was Tywin that had arrived, but his bindings held. Tywin enjoyed seeing him fight against his bindings, wondering how it felt to be truly helpless. Kevan slid off his horse, as well as several of Tywin's bannermen to surround the Mad King, relieving Varys of his weapon.

"Seven hells," Stannis muttered in shock.

Tywin knew how the man felt. It was rare to witness a King's fall from grace so spectacularly.

As Stannis spoke, Aerys head swivelled to the new voice, trying to place it.

"It's Lord Stannis beside me, Aerys. Lords Redwyne and Tarly are both captured with the help of Dorne. I am pleased to tell you that almost all your allies abandoned you when you called for their support. All but the Reach, but I have plans to take that region apart, piece by piece. I will not have traitors in my midst."

Tywin took a certain amount of pleasure in seeing Aerys writhe about, clearly furious at this news.

Tywin took his eyes off Aerys for a moment and concentrated on Varys, who was being held by two men from the West.

"Am I to assume that you are the reason that the wildfire is contained within the Red Keep?"

Varys cocked his head.

"You are not a man to make assumptions, Lord Tywin. At least you were not when you served here as Hand. I assume you will investigate what happened here tonight and draw your own conclusions. As for my role in this night, I have always been honest in my loyalty to House Targaryen – as long as their reign was best for the people."

Varys paused while Aerys squirmed and gnawed at his gag. Tywin sneered at him even though Aerys could not see him. He looked utterly pathetic – reduced to this foul creature before him. There was no pity nor empathy in Tywin's heart for Aerys. The king's actions against House Lannister, and Tywin himself had assured that his end would be painful and humiliating. On this, Tywin would not be swayed.

Tywin snorted and looked at the eunuch.

"I did not have time for your games and your riddles when I was Hand, Varys. I have even less patience now. Tell me what you've done."

There was no mistaking the command in Tywin's voice – and Varys knew as well as the rest of the men gathered here, that he was speaking to the new King of Westeros.

"I think we can both agree that this," Varys waved a manicure, silky smooth hand to the ruins behind him, "was not in the best interests of the people. I did what was necessary."

"And I am to believe that you will now support my reign as King? A man that has loyally and some would say blindly supported a Mad King?"

"I was not the only one who allowed Aerys his reign. The dragons ruled for nearly three hundred years."

Tywin glowered at the Spider, who simply folded his hands and met his gaze. Sansa had said much the same thing – that the lords of Westeros all shared in the blame of allowing the Targaryens to rule for so long. Perhaps she was right. But that ended now.

"State what you want Varys. I could slit your throat, here and now, and no one would mourn your death," Tywin demand, voice whip-sharp and cold.

Tywin saw Varys shudder, slightly, which meant the eunuch wasn't quite as self-assured as he wanted Tywin to think he was.

"Your time as Hand was categorized as remarkably stable for the realm and good for the common people. You've recently remarried and built solid alliances with the Stormlands, the Riverlands, the North and the Vale. Alliances you previously did not have."

Tywin said nothing, just clenched his jaw. He always hated how well-informed the Spider was.

"Even here, we've received word about your marriage. It was said to be a love match, which, is a rare enough thing for a man of your station."

Tywin glared at Varys, wondering what other things the man had learned about Sansa. He knew that word of their marriage would spread and part of him had required that, for a King needed a Queen. Marrying outside the Westerlands would also be seen as a boon. Tywin had heard the whispers at court for years – that the West was far too powerful because of the gold that he held. If those in the capital believed Sansa made him softer, that was their mistake. Tywin knew the opposite was true. His wife made him more formidable than ever.

"I believe those in the West refer to her as the Tamer of Lions, and there is a remarkable tale circulating of her going into the hills and returning with not one, but two cubs. Your house sigil, in living form."

Tywin snorted.

"Pretty words will not convince me that you will be loyal to me."

"Why do you think young Jaime had time to reach the West with Princess Elia?" Varys countered.

Only years of learning to school his reactions had Tywin concealing his shock at Varys words. He wondered if they were true. Then he wondered if it mattered. Varys had clearly had a hand in this night. He might be the only reason the death toll remained in the thousands and not tens of thousands. Or worse.

"For now, you will come with us," was all Tywin said. Men moved to secure the Spider as Tywin slid off his horse and strode towards the King.

Could he even be called that anymore? Tywin wondered.

And would he care that he'd brought such an ignoble end to his once-proud house?

Tywin shuddered to think that in Sansa's time, his daughter had done something similar, using wildfire to destroy the Sept of Baelor.

It would take time for a full accounting of those that had died on this night. While the wildfire plot had failed to spread throughout King's Landing properly, hundreds if not thousands of people lived and worked in the Red Keep. Tywin suspected that most of them were dead – burnt to ash by this mad man. That alone was enough to condemn him.

But he had other crimes to answer for as well.

When he was close to Aerys, Tywin grimaced at the state of his one-time friend.

The man was disgusting and unkempt. Jaime and Sansa had told him how the man refused to groom himself, fearing shears or knives anywhere near him. Bathing seemed to be something that the King did not indulge in given the stench of him. And the tangle of matted greying hair spoke of someone who had indeed lost their mind. Tywin had to school himself not to gag at how much Aerys reeked.

Kneeling, with his hand on the pommel of his sword, Tywin removed his lion's helm. Then, he carefully withdrew a dagger and slit the blindfold around Aerys' eyes, resting the blade against the King's cheek, as the man's eyes met his. Even in the position he was, there was something defiant in Aerys' gaze.

Tywin's lips had curled back into a vicious sneer. There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to begin to cut away pieces of this man – to torture him and inflict as much pain on him as he had on Joanna, on Jaime. He could start with an ear. Perhaps a finger. Take his nose. There were endless ways to inflict pain upon someone and keep them alive, and there was no one around to stop him. Tywin pressed the dagger into Aerys's sallow cheek, drawing a bead of blood.

Aerys' eyes had gone wide, huge now, the whites a sickly yellow. All of his skin was in a similar condition, and Tywin swore the man was rotting from the inside out.

Aerys seemed to have aged a decade in the two years that Tywin had been at the Rock.

Leaning closer, not even daring to breathe in, Tywin let Aerys see his hatred for him. His utter loathing for this man.

"You would have taken everything from me. You almost did. But I am a lion, and I do not bow to a dragon. Not anymore. You are finished."

Aerys' eyes flashed, furious and cold, rebellious even.

Tywin leaned in closer.

"I will let the Red Keep burn to the ground. All that remains of what your ancestors built will be nothing more than ash. I will ensure that it will never be rebuilt. I will scatter this ash into Blackwater Bay and let the sea carry you back to Valyria, where dragons belong. Never again will a dragon rule the Seven Kingdoms. The reign of House Targaryen is over."

Then Tywin smiled, cruel, cunning and cold.

"Lord Ned Stark is coming to the capital. As we speak, the man thunders down the King's Road. I wonder what he'll do when I give him the man who murdered his brother and father? Do you think he'll give you an easy death? Or perhaps might he make your death as brutal as those of his beloved family?"

For the first time ever, Tywin saw genuine fear in Aerys' eyes. He leaned closer.

"But before I give you to him, to dispense with you in any manner he sees fit, I will take my own revenge for what you did to my wife."

With that, his movements quick and economical, Tywin ripped Aerys' robes from his body and, with a single stroke, sliced the man's flaccid member from his body. Even though the gag, Aerys screamed, as blood gushed from the mutilation. Tywin didn't even flinch as he threw the useless appendage away.

"See that he does not bleed out. Attend to him and secure the prisoner. Keep him alive. Ned Stark will have his pound of flesh," Tywin said, rising and turning, striding away from the howling King behind him. He had his revenge. House Targaryen was all but done and the Iron Throne was his.

"Kevan, secure the capital and the prisoners. Find the King's pyromancers and anyone else that might have served him and lived. Lord Varys is to be held until his guilt in this entire affair can be determined. Send a runner to Ned Stark that we have taken King's Landing, but the King remains alive for his sword."

"Yes, Your Grace," Kevan said, pride in his voice.

Kevan knew as well as Tywin that House Lannister now ruled the Seven Kingdoms.

Then, without any planning, every man there, in sight of a Red Keep that still smouldered and burned, dropped to their knees.

Kevan was the only one who remained standing. His voice strong and true carried, just as Oberyn Martell and his men crested the Hill and raced towards them. It took Oberyn only a moment to realize that Tywin had taken the Red Keep and arrested Aerys.

And that he had arrived in time to witness the crowning of the next King of the seven kingdoms.

Kevan unsheathed his sword and held it aloft, his bright green eyes shining in the night. This was a moment that belonged to House Lannister – a crowning achievement in an already remarkable life.

"All Hail His Grace, Tywin of House Lannister, first of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, defender of King's Landing and Protector of the realm."

Stannis was the first to unsheathe his sword and add his voice to that of Kevan's.

"All Hail King Tywin," the new Lord of Storm's End said. Men from the Stormlands and the Westerlands repeated the chant.

Left with no other choice, Oberyn Martell finally slid off his horse and did the same, but Tywin knew the man was not pleased with how this night had unfolded. He didn't care in the least. He'd warned Oberyn what his plans were – this was a rebellion meant to usher in a new era to Westeros, to end the Targaryen rule.

For one brief moment, Tywin met Kevan's gaze. Then Stannis. And finally Oberyn. He nodded to each man but said nothing. There would be time for speeches. But not now. Not when the Red Keep still burned and half their alliance wasn't here.

A great cheer rose as Tywin strode towards his horse. His squire was there to help him on remount, for Tywin was done with this night. He knew what he needed – and what he needed now was Sansa.

"Your Grace, why are you leaving?" one young knight asked.

"The victory is here," another said, clearly confused.

But Tywin wasn't confused in the least. He knew the real work would begin in the days and weeks to come. Tywin had always understood, better than most, that true power was ruling – and ruling was making a thousand decisions every day and weighing how they affected the realm.

Besides, this didn't much feel like a victory, as much as it did vengeance finally served. And for that, Tywin wanted Sansa, for she would understand what he was feeling.

"I made a promise to my wife. To the Queen. This victory is as much hers as mine. Kevan, I leave the capital in your capable hands until I return with Queen Sansa."

With that, Tywin kicked his horse, leaving behind a former king that writhed in agony, eager now to see his wife and reassure her that he was safe. As much as he understood Kevan's actions to name him King, as much as they had been required, the moment had felt hollow without those he loved best by his side.

Still, as he raced down Aegon's High Hill, there was a part of Tywin that marvelled at what had taken place this night.

Dawn broke over Blackwater Bay as he sprinted out of King's Landing and towards his wife – towards his Sansa.

The winds of change had ushered in a new era of Westeros – the era of the lion. And Tywin did not mean to waste a moment of his golden opportunity.