Tywin Lannister was many things, but he was no coward. When Joanna took to her birthing bed for their first child, he remained by her side for the entire day of her labour.

He was no stranger to blood and pain, but what he saw that day changed him forever. Birth was both the most horrific and most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He'd said as much to Joanna, much later, and she'd said something about him trying it next time. She joked she'd done her bit, giving him twins.

They were perfect blonde babies. Jaime was born clutching his sister's foot.

His happiness that day, seeing his wife's exhausted but bright eyes as she held their son, was absolute. Looking down at his daughter, he felt as though nothing would ever bring him joy like he had in that moment.

…

He'd been away when Joanna went into labour the second time. He'd left the formerly pressing matter in the hands of his brother and rode hard for home when news reached him.

Dripping wet and muddy, he smiled at the sound of a child's wail. It was too soon, but the baby sounded healthy enough. Nothing prepared him for the sight he saw next.

There was blood everywhere. Joanna was translucent. Dread clutched his heart with such force he thought it had stopped.

Midwives scattered as he took the three steps to her side. On his knees in the red, her pale hand in his, the world was ending.

"I waited for you." Her voice was weak. "I knew you'd come."

…

Standing knee deep in the waves, his mutant son in his arms, Tywin looked out to sea. It would be so easy to drop the little bundle in the water and let the currents take it away.

"Tyrion," she'd named him. A grand Lannister name. Her lips were cold when he kissed her.

The baby had mismatched eyes. They stared up at him, innocent and unknowing.

The tower of Casterly Rock loomed above him. Waves smashed themselves into its feet. Tywin tucked his coat around the child and turned back to the beach.