Epilogue

Note: These are short snippets of events in Ailyn and Tywin's future.

"Keep your eyes closed, Ailyn," warned Lord Tywin as he led her forward.

"Tywin, where are you taking me?" asked Ailyn as she took several more hesitant steps.

"Can't you tell?" he queried.

"We're outside. Much more than that, I'm not sure," she replied, resisting the urge to put her hands out in front of her.

"There. You can open your eyes now," said Tywin quietly, removing his hands from her arm and waist.

Ailyn blinked in the afternoon sunlight.

They were out in the courtyard near the stables and raven roosts. There was a young, dark haired man before her whom she didn't recognize but she caught her breath at what he held on the edge of his hand.

"Oh Tywin!" exclaimed Ailyn in wonder. "A grey hawk! Where did you find one?"

The fledgling hawk let out a shriek and flapped its wings experimentally as Ailyn drew closer.

"With difficulty. I thought it would make a better nameday gift than another necklace or gown," said her lord, as he watched her with a small, indulgent smile.

"It's beautiful, thank you!" she breathed, reaching out and gently ruffling the silvery grey feathers on its chest.

It shrieked at her again but didn't try to bite.

"This is Ser Trystan. He will care for your hawk while the animal gets used to you during its training," introduced Lord Tywin coming to stand beside her.

"Ser Trystan, thank you for your service," said Lady Ailyn graciously.

"I am honored to be of assistance, my lady," he replied respectfully. "My Lord Hand."

As the young man strode off, Ailyn turned to Tywin and threw her arms around him in girlish delight.

Tywin returned her embrace then held her away from him so he could speak to her.

"Ailyn, I know how much you miss Willow Glen, what you gave up to stay here with me. And while you are constantly surrounded by my heritage, I don't want you to forsake your own. As much as I like the idea of you becoming a Lion, you are a Hawk first and I don't want you to change that. Not for me or anyone," Tywin said softly.

Ailyn's grey eyes teared up at his words.

"That means so much to me, Tywin."

She looked away from him briefly.

"When Lord Darren died, I thought I would spend the rest of my life alone and unhappy."

Ailyn met his eyes again.

"You changed all that for me. I've never been happier than I am now," she admitted, leaning into him.

She went up on her toes and kissed him before he could say anything else.

"Ailyn," chided Lord Tywin, glancing around even though they were alone.

"Unless you want me to show my gratitude right here in the courtyard, I suggest we retire to our bedchamber," she murmured throatily, looking up at him from under her lashes.

Lord Tywin rumbled and gave her a look that sent a pulse of anticipation down her spine. He took her by the arm and led her out of the courtyard as quickly as was decent.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but Lady Ailyn wishes to see you. She's in your chambers," said one of Lord Tywin's personal guards.

Lord Tywin frowned at the unexpected interruption but rose to see Ailyn anyway. He walked quickly down the hall to their chamber and strode into the room. He didn't see her right away but caught a glimpse of her figure out on their balcony and went to her.

"Ailyn, what is it?" asked Lord Tywin, coming to stand beside her.

His wife turned to him with a brief smile but tears shown in her eyes.

"I have good news for you," she said, sounding happy but the tremor in her voice belied her words.

"Go on," prompted Tywin, though he was worried.

"The Queen is pregnant," said Lady Ailyn, choking on the last word.

"Maergery is with child?" repeated Tywin, as the news sunk in.

"It's been two months since she flowered. She sent for Maester Pycelle as I was leaving."

Ailyn was pleased to see the relief on her husband's face.

"The throne will be secure for Tommen now, for our family," Ailyn assured him, as a tear trickled down her cheek.

Tywin reached out and wiped it away for her.

His gesture broke down her self-restraint and she wept against his shoulder as he held her quaking body.

"I am happy for her and for us," Ailyn tried again brokenly, curling her fingers into his tunic.

"I know you are," said Lord Tywin softly into her hair.

The birth of King Tommen's son was announced on a cold day some seven months later. The snow had abated, leaving the city frosted white but still humming with activity. Some, who had come to the capitol during the War of Five Kings, had returned home or sought out other towns to make their home in. Of the ones who did stay, each family, school, and orphanage within King's Landing was given a gift of fire wood and a loaf of bread to celebrate the healthy birth of the heir to the throne.

King Tommen, who had grown into strong, confident young man, stood tall and proud on the raised dais outside the Sept of Baelor. He waved to the assembled crowd with one hand, the other surreptitiously supporting the Queen, who had insisted on coming with him.

Lady Ailyn and the Hand of the King were with them as well, standing off to their left, looking on proudly. Lady Ailyn waved and smiled though Lord Tywin remained stern and watchful as always.

Suddenly, from somewhere off in the distance, a chant began. It raced through the crowd like wild fyre, rising even above the clanging of the bells of all the septs in the city.

"Lann-i-ster, Lann-i-ster, Lann-i-ster!"

Ailyn looked over at Lord Tywin. She had had it on authority from Lady Genna over a flagon of wine one night, that Lord Tywin had smiled the day Jaime and Cersei were born. There was a smile on his face now, still not one that lit up his face or even stretched across his whole mouth, but it was a wider smile than Ailyn had seen since the day they were married.

She leaned in close to him and said over noise, "It's wonderful isn't it?"

The Hand of the King looked down at her, sunlight glinting off his silver hair and the golden pin on his chest.

"What is?"

"When you get something you didn't know you wanted."

They shared a silent look of understanding as the King made a short but kind speech thanking them for their prayers for his family. The King, his Hand and their ladies returned to the warmth inside the Sept of Baelor to a thunderous cheer as the bells rang on.

"It may be time for us to have a feast for the lords and merchants across the Narrow Sea again. They have done a great deal for us over the years," remarked Lady Ailyn to Lord Tywin as they sat in the Small Council chamber.

Lady Ailyn now had her own desk off to the left of Tywin's, parallel with the side wall. He was still the Hand of the King but she was his.

"They have not offered such a gesture to King's Landing; we have helped grow their cities' wealth as much as they have contributed to ours," answered Lord Tywin, not looking up from the letter he was reading.

"True but they have not gathered together since our wedding, at least not to my knowledge," said Ailyn, glancing up at Lord Varys who was standing beside her.

"They have not, my lady," said Lord Varys.

"Can we afford to do this, Lord Baelish?" asked Lady Ailyn of the Master of Coin standing beside her husband's desk.

"The crown could easily accommodate two or three day's worth of lavish dinners and entertainment, my lady," Lord Baelish responded carefully.

Ailyn looked at Lord Tywin and waited.

Finally, he looked up at her and set the letter down with a sigh.

"A wise man once told me that a display of generosity and power is seldom worthless," offered Ailyn with a fond look.

The corner of Lord Tywin's mouth quirked into his smile and he shook his head.

"Very well, Ailyn. Arrange it but not for another month. I want this spat between Dorne and Pyke sorted before I invite the heads of seven hundred ships into our waters," acquiesced Lord Tywin.

Ailyn nodded and made a note to write up the invitations in a few weeks.

"I think that will be all for today, Lord Varys," said Lady Ailyn. "See about finding someone discreet to investigate the orphanage near Rhaenys Hill. The cost of maintaining it has risen suspiciously over the last year. If Braxton Warren is using the crown's funds for anything other than the running of the orphanage, I will hear his explanation."

Next to Lord Tywin, Petyr Baelish tightened his nine fingers on his leather case.

Lady Ailyn handed Lord Varys the Order of Inspection which held the signature of the Hand.

"At once, my lady," assured Varys, bowing low to her and then again to Lord Tywin before leaving the Small Council chamber.

"Take these with you, Baelish," Lord Tywin said dismissively, handing Lord Baelish several summons' and a small quantity of bills.

"My Lord Hand," bowed Baelish, taking the papers and exiting the room.

Lady Ailyn stood up, stretched her back and went to stand before her husband.

"Dinner in an hour?" she suggested quietly.

He glanced up at her and nodded.

She smiled at him and turned to leave but stopped when she was near the door.

"Oh, I meant to give this to you yesterday," muttered Ailyn, walking quickly back to her desk and plucking a paper from it.

She laid it in his tray of papers to be read for approval and turned to go again but Lord Tywin stopped her.

"Wait."

Ailyn stopped and watched in mute shock as he took the page and signed his name to it without looking over it.

"But…you didn't read it," stammered Ailyn, still looking at him with wide eyes as he set the page down in his 'finished' pile.

He put his quill down and met his wife's startled gaze.

"Between ourselves, Ailyn, I haven't read the last fifty or so requests that you have given me for approval. I have faith in your judgment that what you put before me is sound and for the good of the realm," the Hand of the King informed her.

Lady Ailyn simply stared at him for a moment.

"Does this mean we are no longer enemies?" she quipped, remembering their argument when they first met.

Lord Tywin gave her his half smile again.

"We have not been enemies for some time now, my lady," he replied in good humor.

Ailyn went around his desk and kissed him firmly.

"We should have done something to celebrate," she whispered with a warm smile.

"There is plenty of time for that," Tywin assured her, taking her hand and kissing her open palm.

"We'll start tonight then," she murmured into his ear before kissing the top of his head tenderly and walking lightly out of their Council room.

Lord Tywin had just finished pressing his lion sigil into the hot wax on his latest letter, when Lady Ailyn came into the Small Council chamber unannounced. He glanced up, surprised to see her and then grew puzzled at the man following her carrying a long wooden box.

"Set it down on the table, please," requested Ailyn, with a warm smile at her husband.

Tywin raised an eyebrow in response as the man set the box down on his Small Council table and then, with a polite bow, quickly left the room.

"Ailyn, what is this?" asked Lord Tywin, rising and walking over to her.

She had been happy the last few days and just now, her face was full of love and contentment.

"Open it," she answered cryptically, clearly anticipating a reaction from him once he found whatever was in the box.

He narrowed his eyes at her but she gave nothing away. Ailyn gestured to the box and smiled even wider.

Lord Tywin decided to humor her and reached out to open the long box before him.

The clasp was simple steel and he snapped it back with ease. He glanced at her again before opening it and was sure that if she had had any less self restraint, Ailyn would have been dancing on the balls of her feet like a little girl.

Tywin Lannister flipped back the lid of the box and froze, his face going slack.

"Is this…?" he whispered, his green eyes riveted on the box's contents.

"Yes," Ailyn whispered back excitedly.

Lord Tywin Lannister reached into the box and drew out a magnificent Valyrian steel sword. He stepped back a few paces and held it before him, gazing at it in wonder. The gold dusting on the hilt flashed in the sunlight, the rubies sparkled in the cross piece and the fearsome lion roared proudly as its etching ran down the length of the blade.

"Brightroar," breathed the eldest Lannister, still holding it aloft.

"How…?" was all Lord Tywin managed to get out.

"One of Lord Varys' spies found it a few weeks ago, gathering rust in the cellar of some old woman in Volantis. I wanted to have it cleaned properly before I gave it to you," said Lady Ailyn happily.

She went to him and kissed him lightly on the lips but the Lion of Casterly Rock barely reacted to her; he was still staring at the sword intently, as though it would vanish if he blinked.

Ailyn grinned and then gently turned his head to look at her.

His green eyes met hers and she knew she had pleased him.

"I thought perhaps you might want to give it to your son when we visit him next month to celebrate the birth of his own," she suggested quietly.

"Ailyn, you've given our family back its long lost ancestral blade," said Lord Tywin, looking at her with the same reverence as he had given the sword.

Ailyn smiled warmly and kissed him again.

"Well, I couldn't think of anything else to get you for your nameday," she replied with a light laugh.

Lord Tywin let out a breath that could have been a laugh and set the sword down so he could gather up his wife in his arms.

"I love you, Ailyn," declared the proud patriarch.

"And I love you, Tywin," affirmed the lady from Willow Glen.

The warmth of their kiss burned brighter than all the fires in Red Keep and was worth more than all the gold in Casterly Rock.

Note: Cheers to everyone for their love and constructive comments throughout this story. I will be posting a new Tywin story within the next month or so (completely unrelated to this one). I have enjoyed this journey and welcome you to come along on my next one.