Visenya lost count of the days she was held as a prisoner, barely having any contact with the world outside. She was held in ropes and whenever they camped, she would be tied to a pole in a tent and be guarded at all times.

Food was given to her, often cold and stale but she ate it nonetheless. Her wounds from the swords were superficial and started to heal on their own, and she also took care of them as much as she could. She would use a part of the drinkable water given to her to keep the wounds clean and she was lucky enough to find a few plants she had studied while younger, whose leaves she chewed and used as a healing paste.

In the end, those wounds would forever mark her skin in terms of scars but it was the blow to her stomach that would change her life. Unknown at that time, she only felt mild disturbance the first few days; the ache intensifying whenever she walked or even breathed.

Eventually, it seemed to subside enough for her to breathe normally although the constant walk she had to do behind a horse had not helped in the healing process.

She remained standing and strong, refusing to fall down or show any sign of weakness; her pride was too strong to let her. Her thoughts often drifted to Tywin and her son, Trystan; who were safe in Casterly Rock.

She was not going to let the boy or any of the other kids grow up without a mother and she was willing to try anything if it meant her survival. For now, though, she remained silent and followed them as they were making their way back to King's Landing.

Whenever they would stop, she would quietly look in the distance as she silently grieved the loss of her nephew. More than once, she thought back to happier memories she had with him; fully aware that it was the only thing left of him.

A young Visenya tiptoed and tried to look over the crib at the sleeping baby, her sister resting on the bed after a hard birth; her undeveloped body having taken a brutal hit by it.

"He looks like you. He looks feminine" Visenya pointed out, looking down at the sleeping baby with the white patch of hair on top of its tiny head.

"You think so?" Rhaella asked in a weak voice but was always happy to see her sister admiring her nephew.

"He will become a man with feminine features, I am telling you and no; I did not dream it," the 9-year-old said, eyes never leaving the baby. "Don't worry, sister, I will look after him if anyone dares to mess with him"

Visenya had her first flowering night just a day ago but despite the faint pain coming from her body, she had still showed up for training with Ser Barristan. The older, freshly appointed knight, did not know of her condition but was always careful whenever they spared.

Their little moment of practice was interrupted by noticing someone approaching them at the training grounds. A 5 year old Rhaegar, was slowly walking their way with his head held high.

His two hands were dragging a rather big wooden sword, its weight and angle leaving behind a line trail on the ground beneath. "I am here to also train with Auntie," the boy said, using all of his force to keep pulling the training sword.

Ser Barristan simply blinked at the sight while Visenya hid her smirk with the back of her hand. They both stood still as the boy approached them, having picked up a random sword that was too big and heavy for him.

"Young Prince, you are too young to train with a sword" Ser Barristan said, offering his hand to take the sword from him.

Rhaegar, stubbornly, did not let him. "I am old enough to try" he argued back, puffing his little chest out.

"I think you should let him Ser Barristan. You always say it is never too late to pick up a sword. Who says it is never too early to do the same thing?" she questioned and walked towards her nephew. "However, Rhaegar, that sword is too heavy for you. Here, try mine" she said, passing him her training sword.

All training swords had sizes, lengths and weights meant for all kinds of fighters of all ages. Visenya, due to her slimmer form, was given a smaller and thinner wooden sword to train with; until she would develop more strength to handle heavier ones.

Rhaegar trusted his aunt wholeheartedly, some saying more than his mother. He dropped the heavy sword and took hers, only to also feel it pulling him down. It was lighter than the previous one but was still too heavy for his small hands.

Stubbornly, though, the child kept trying to lift it and did not make a single sound due to the weight or the pulling sensation coming from his arms.

Ser Barristan approached, watching in silence at the sight but there was this smile of amusement on his face. "He has your stubbornness, Princess, I can see that," he said, knowing fully well that Visenya did not mind his humour.

As her teacher, she respected him and she had more than once told him to speak to her more freely and not as if she would feed him to a dragon if he dared to insult her. Because Visenya knew there was a difference between mocking someone and simply being friendly enough, let alone correcting them if you were some sort of teacher.

Visenya would leave for Dragonstone the next day and she was not ready to do so. As she roamed the halls of the Red Keep one last time, she bumped into a familiar Maester.

"Maester Val" she greeted the young man. "Did something happen?" she asked next, seeing his red face and noticing how his dark eyes looked left and right in search of something.

"I cannot find the Crown Prince, Princess. He never came for his daily lessons" he confessed, a little bit out of breath.

Maester Val had been a loyal head Maester for the Targaryen family for years now. He was a trusted man, knowledgeable and had been the teacher of every royal child, including her cousin Steffon. He was the student of Maester Pycelle and was quickly rising the ranks and favours of the royal family.

Visenya seemed amused by the situation but hid it well. "Return to your class, Maester Val. I will find him and send him your way" she continued, earning a relieved and thankful look from the Maester.

It did not take long after his departure, for Visenya to walk into a rather unoccupied room. Inside, he found her young nephew practising on the harp.

"Auntie, came to hear my latest song?" the young boy asked.

Since he was a child, he had a gift for the arts, especially poetry and music. He had a sweet voice that would eventually develop into a velvet-smooth one. His character and nature seemed to be milder than most Targaryen, mellow even and one could even go as far as to say; romantic.

"I came to find you and inform you that we will soon need a new Maester," she said, taking a seat on a stool not so far away from him.

Rhaegar pulled his fingers from the strings of the harp and frowned. "Master Val is simply too boring. All he does is talk and talk about the 7 Kingdoms, the Andals, the First Men..."

Visenya shook her head faintly and looked at her young nephew. "Rhaegar" she called his name, a motherly scolding tone behind her words. "You know too well that all those things are important for you to learn. You will be the next King and what kind of King doesn't know his own history?"

"Well, the history is boring and I am more interested in the future" he argued back, trying to win this argument.

Accepting his challenge, Visenya played his game. "And do tell me, how will you pave the future if you do not know your past? How will you avoid the mistakes others did before you if you never learn about them?"

The boy suddenly fell quiet, looking around him with those violet eyes of his. He was thinking but he also knew that there was no true answer to those questions, not one that supported his claims.

His aunt stood up and then bent to be in front of him, closer to his height. She placed her fingers gently on his cheek and redirected his attention on her. "I am to leave for Dragonstone tomorrow morning, you remember that?" she asked and he nodded. "I won't be here to cover for you and neither to help you study after you beg me for an hour straight" she continued, making him chuckle silently. "However, I do leave for Dragonstone knowing that my nephew will do better than his father. Knowing that when I return, the young Crown Prince will have made me proud and will be the man I know he can be"

There was a moment of truthfulness in her words, even though the lack of emotions on her face clashed against it. Her voice had a hint of softness despite Visenya herself being a young maiden herself.

Rhaegar understood her words and even felt guilty upon realizing how much faith she put in him. Everyone had faith that he was the Prince who was Promised, the boy of the prophecy but she put faith in him because he was her nephew and she took pride in that.

In the end, Rhaegar gave a few nods of his head. "I promise I will do better, Auntie," he said, making her smile faintly before she allowed him to hug her.

Visenya was never a physical person, not even when she was a child. She preferred not to be touched, even by her own mother and perhaps that was what had ruined their relationship from early on; among other things.

She rarely allowed human touch, comforting and intimate one especially. This was from her sister and her nephew, no one else. Rhaella even joked that she would not allow her future husband to touch her and more than once the Princess had thought to be the case.

Visenya stood in front of Rhaegar in their tent, her hand holding the back of his neck. "No matter what, I will always be proud of you," she told him, watching his violet eyes glow with emotions.

When they arrived in King's Landing, as per usual, she had to walk behind Robert's horse. However, due to the mud and her state barely anyone recognised her since many other Royal Soldiers had been kept captive.

She had not seen Barristan ever since their capture but she had heard of his recovery and how his injuries could have easily ended him if he was any other man.

The Princess looked through her dirty white locks, seeing many corpses on the streets and blood drying on the road beneath her feet. Houses and shops had been raided or destroyed while she caught sight of the Lannister flag on multiple spots.

Tywin, she thought as she realized that he had beaten them all to King's Landing.

Knowing him, he had a plan already to free her and ensure Robert did not accuse him of his neutrality in the war. She did not know yet and partially she suspected it would not be pleasant.

She was not surprised to be locked inside a room when they reached the Red Keep, away from any prying eyes. She was not allowed to truly be seen by anyone, not yet at least as Robert most likely had planned for her execution; unless Tywin stopped him.

So, when the hours passed and she got no visitor; she started to ponder of what had taken place with the negotiations. That was, until the door was kicked open and a Baratheon Soldier stood by the entrance; a scared handmaid cowering behind him.

Tywin had been given his former main chambers in the Red Keep, away from the Tower of the Hand. It was the chambers he would reside with Visenya and young Trystan before their departure to Casterly Rock.

He had filled himself with a goblet of wine to ease his anger, waiting patiently and in silence for things to unfold. Jaime had been given a room of his own but was guarded, not fully trusted yet after his betrayal and his backstabbing of Aerys.

The sun had almost set by the time someone knocked on his door and then pushed it open. Before he could comment on the rudeness of such action, his green eyes fell on the figure that was pushed into the room.

The female staggered from the push but regained her footing, turning her head to glare silently at the Baratheon soldier; who simply closed the door again. Her silver-white hair was still wet, her body bearing new scars and she wore a simple pale grey dress that she had been given at the last minute.

"Animal" a familiar voice spat in High Valyrian, a language he had faintly heard from the same person but was never truly spoken by her.

Slowly, the Dragoness turned to face her husband; her amber eyes locking with his through the wet white strands sticking to her face. It was the end of the year, winter was approaching and the temperatures were lower.

She had been cleaned, just to be presentable to him but she had not been dressed properly; evidenced by the goosebumps against her skin.

"Tywin" she finally called his name, her voice stable and slightly low.

She did not truly make any move to approach him, not go into any pleasantries. She knew the Lion had a temper, she knew she had gone against his promise and she knew he could be unpredictable.

For that, she navigated the stormy waters carefully; not risking anything without being fully sure it would not lead to her ship sinking.

He lowered his goblet, leaving it on the table before he fully focused on her form. With a few confident but slow big strides, he covered the distance between them. He said nothing as his fingers grabbed her chin and forced her to lift her head higher as his eyes inspected her body.

This coldness quickly got replaced by darkness upon seeing the scar on her arm and the faintest outline on the inside of her neck, barely exposed due to the shortness of her dress.

She eventually grew tired of this silent treatment. "I am not a show-horse to inspect and I am fine" she said and tried to pull her head back but he did not let her.

His fingers pressed tighter against her skin, barely tiptoeing on the line where his grip would leave a mark upon her paler skin. He was close enough to actually leave her with a mark, a reminder not to taunt his already flaring temper but he did not cross that line; not yet.

"You are what I want you to be, after saving your life" he said, a warning clear in his voice as he held her there.

Visenya focused fully on him while she stopped resisting, for a moment looking at him with eyes wide in surprise but not fear. Tywin was known to have a darker side and was known sometimes to be more commanding and dangerous than he let others see but she had never witnessed it against her.

She knew Tywin well enough but even she realized how thin the ice she was walking on truly was at that moment.

She tried to hide her initial reaction and focused on what was important. "What did you do?" she asked, a part of her dreading the answer.

"What I had to" he replied before releasing her chin but did not move to the side. Instead, he kept standing in front of her, taking no pity on her form that shivered ever so faintly from the cold bath she had to go through. "I secured the safety of our house and your freedom. All you will have to do is bend the knee and ask for forgiveness in the coronation"

Those words made her narrow her eyes and defiantly look at him, her head craned up just enough due to the height difference. "Bend the knee? To the one who killed my nephew and stole my birthright?" she repeated, making it clear that she did not like the idea.

Visenya had ignored many things, she had put up with even more when she had to. However, even she had a limit to those things. The Dragon would ignore the stick poking it during its slumber until it would get annoyed and then burnt it along with its handler.

Robert, her nephew or not, had killed her blood nephew. If that was not enough for him, he had gone as far as to proclaim himself the new King when no other House had ever sat upon the Iron Throne until now.

Something darkened in his eyes, his face following suit. He was tired of defiance, he was tired of having to save everyone and yet having the same people make his life harder. First, it was Jaime and now it was her.

He took a step closer, their bodies touching but his arms remained behind his back. He towered over her, bending his head and body just enough that his own shadow was cast upon her face.

"You will do exactly that and you will have no opinion on it" he said, his voice low..dangerously low. "I do not care about your pride or your grief right now, for our legacy is threatened by this boy, who calls himself the new King. I do not like it either but we will do what we must to survive. You will do what you must, like you had done in the past" he said, his face closer to hers to the point that his hot breath reached her lips.

He did not make any move, he did not touch her in any way because he didn't have to. His posture, his dominant and commanding posture was enough. He positioned himself to remind her she only commandeered a small ship while he had the full fleet under his control.

She had her power but he had more and right now, there was no room for discussion or arguments. Right now, his words were right, his words were law and she would listen to them.

He did not say anything else, he did not move from his position and merely stared her down. He could see this anger and need for revenge in her eyes, the grief that was still there. She got humiliated enough being taken prisoner for so long and she was at her tipping point.

But it was at that point she needed to hold up, more than ever and they both knew it.

Tywin took notice of the tension of her jaw and how her face was skinnier since she had left, her body having been affected as well by the lack of proper food while imprisoned. Her eyes still shone with intelligence, although now they were clouded by anger.

He did not back down, he did not take any pity on her because he knew this was the only way. Someone had to put their foot down and take command of this damned ship, or they would all perish in the incoming storm.

From the looks of it, that someone was once again him.

In the end, he noticed how she took a deep breath; evident by the movement of her shoulders. Her body shook faintly, a subconscious shiver from the cold and the wetness of her hair; something she could barely control.

She closed her eyes momentarily and lowered her head to the point that his lips and chin were at the same level as her hair. "Very well, I will do it"

If Tywin was pleased by her agreement or expected it, he did not show it. Instead, he started walking towards one of the two armchairs in front of the fireplace and silently motioned for her to sit down.

She obediently did as she was silently asked and sat down, feeling the temperature changing by her closer proximity to the burning fire. Her eyes went to the ember flames that matched her eyes, their flickering forms offering some sort of comfort as she imagined Robert's body being devoured by them.

She could imagine how his clothes melted on his skin, how his flesh was turning red with blisters as the fire melted it, scorched it and turned it black...how it would smell as the flames took him, as the black smoke would rise higher and higher into the sky...how his yells of pain would eventually be silenced as his body would continue to burn...

Her dark trail of thoughts was interrupted by a goblet being held in front of her face, Tywin being the one offering it. She blinked slowly, snapping from her trance and she took the goblet from him; the smell of wine reaching her nose.

She did not drink it and merely glanced at him silently as he sat on the other armchair, leaning back at it. He was mentally tired, having to put up with a lot and having to kiss Robert's ass just enough to ensure his House prevailed.

He was just fine in Casterly Rock and he was now back into this stupid acting, having to start much lower than he had finished.

He swirled the red liquid in his goblet, his eyes falling on the fire as well. "Never forget, you are a Lannister now and must act like one. We do not let our emotions control us and we always look after our family" he said, taking a sip of his wine as his green eyes glanced at her form. "Your family now is us. Your blood family is Trystan" he reminded her.

Visenya straightened her back fully and tossed her head back, emptying the red liquid down her throat in one go. She then slowly lowered the goblet and turned her face to look at him. "They are and I will stand by their side until the end" she said, giving a mental vow. "Tell me now, everything"

[A/N] - Honestly, this might be one of my favourite chapters yet. I just loved that I had the chance to show the slightly darker side of Tywin when he is in control without making him get out of character or make him truly an asshole.

Would you like to see a few more of these moments? With Tywin a little more dom and in control? Maybe see Visenya being defiant to piss him off? Let me know.

Overall, I think it was also a good chapter, a quick insight clue on Visenya's changing mentality and the ever-lasting thirst for revenge. What did you think of the scene with her dark thoughts as she looked into the fire? Do you think there is a little bit of madness in her as well?

Also, cute little moments of Visenya and Rhaegar. ^^