Chapter Text
The grand halls of Casterly Rock were as imposing as ever, but for Amira, they felt strangely empty. Tywin had always been a commanding presence, his attention—whether warm or stern—had become a constant in her life. But over the past few weeks, he had been consumed by his duties, spending long hours in his study, riding out to negotiate agreements, and even leaving Casterly Rock altogether for several days. Amira understood the burdens of being Warden of the West, but understanding did little to soothe the sting of his absence. She missed his steady gaze, his rare but meaningful touches, and the quiet moments that had started to feel like theirs alone. Now, she felt like a ghost in her own home, a mere spectator to her husband's unrelenting pursuit of power and duty.
Her frustration simmered, manifesting in small acts of defiance. It came to a head during a formal dinner hosted for Lord and Lady Brax. Tywin had returned only days earlier and immediately resumed his work, offering Amira little more than curt nods and brief exchanges. As they dined, Amira sipped her wine, the weight of her emotions bubbling to the surface. When Tywin made a remark about the importance of calculated decisions, Amira couldn’t help herself.
"Yes, calculated decisions," she said with a too-sweet smile, her voice laced with feigned innocence. "It must be easier to make them while spending so much time away from home. Isn’t that right, my lord?" The table fell silent, the clinking of cutlery ceasing as all eyes turned to Tywin. His sharp gaze pinned her instantly, his warning clear, but Amira met it with an unrepentant tilt of her chin. The awkwardness hung in the air for a moment before Tywin smoothly redirected the conversation, his voice steady but laced with tension.
That night, Tywin said nothing about her outburst, but Amira felt his displeasure in the way he retired to his study as soon as dinner had ended.
The next morning, Amira made a decision regarding the allocation of surplus grain to a neighboring territory in need—a choice she knew was sensible and aligned with the values Tywin had drilled into her about maintaining House Lannister’s dominance and favor. However, she also knew Tywin would have preferred to be consulted.
She barely had time to finish her breakfast before she was summoned to his study. The doors were open when she arrived, revealing Tywin standing behind his desk, hands braced on the surface, his eyes cold and sharp.
"You made a decision about the grain stores without consulting me," he said without preamble, his tone cutting.
Amira stepped inside, the door shutting softly behind her. "I did," she replied evenly, though her heart pounded in her chest. Tywin straightened, his imposing form casting a long shadow. "Do you understand how reckless that was? You might have overextended our resources without proper consideration."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped closer, meeting his fiery gaze. "I considered it thoroughly. The grain is surplus, the people need it, and it strengthens alliances. And since you’ve been too busy to discuss matters with me, I thought I might as well act as Lady of the Rock." His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "You overstepped."
"And you’ve been absent," she countered, her voice rising slightly. "How am I to act as your partner when you keep me at arm’s length? You don’t consult me anymore. You barely even see me." The words struck a chord, and for a moment, Tywin’s stern expression faltered. He exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiff. "This is what has you behaving like a petulant child? My time away?"
Amira’s temper flared. "It’s not just your time away! It’s how you’ve shut me out. I understand your duties, Tywin, but do you think I don’t feel the strain of being ignored? I’m trying to build something here, for us, for our son, and I feel like I’m doing it alone!" Silence fell between them, heavy and charged. Tywin moved around the desk slowly, his steps deliberate, his piercing gaze locked on her.
When he stopped in front of her, his voice softened, but the authority in it remained. "Do you think this has been easy for me? I have been trying to secure the future of this house—not just for myself, but for you and Loreon. The deal I’ve been brokering is delicate, and every moment I spend on it has been a test of my patience. Add to that the frustration of being unable to..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over her. "Unable to have what I truly want, and you might understand the strain."
Amira blinked, her anger momentarily abating. "What do you mean?" His lips twitched into a faint smirk, his hands settling on her arms, pulling her closer. "You. Us. I’ve wanted you, Amira, and every day that has passed without you warming my bed has only added to my frustrations."
Her cheeks flushed as his meaning sank in, her heart skipping a beat. "Then perhaps," she said softly, her voice dropping to a whisper, "we should do something about that." Tywin’s smirk deepened, his hands sliding down to her waist. "I think we should."
He pulled her into a rough passionate kiss, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth and establishing a clear dominance within. He leaned back on this desk as he pulled her even closer, hand reaching back to grab her ass through the elegant gown she had chosen to wear that day. “I think you need a reminder as to who the Lord of this House is and something to fill that petulant mouth with” he groaned as he gently pushed her down onto her knees. She looked up at him through her lashes as she made quick work of his pants and reaching in for his cock, giving it a few strokes before capturing him in her mouth. “Fuck, I’ve missed this” he groaned as he grabbed her head guiding her movements. She hollowed her cheeks sucking him deeper and deeper into her mouth, he suddenly pushed her all the way down, his cock settling deep within her throat the actions causing her eyes to water. He soon pulled her off him, pulling her up and bending her over his desk. “You want to act like a brat, I will treat you like one” he said pushing her skirts up over her waist and tearing off her undergarments. “Tywin-” she began but was cut off my her own moan and Tywin roughly entered her. “Gods’ Amira you feel good and you’re so wer, does sucking your husband’s cock arouse you this much” he asked setting an unrelenting pace. “Tywin, yes, please don’t stop” she moaned grabbing onto the other edge of the desk trying to keep steady as he pounded into her cunt. “Is this what you wanted, huh? Is this why you’ve been acting like a child? Because you missed my cock?” he goaded knowing she was in the throws of please and would struggle to respond. He soon felt her walls tightening around him but he couldn’t have her cum just yet so he pulled out of her. “Tywin…” she whined feeling not only the loss of him inside her but the loss of her orgasm, he flipped her over having her sit on the edge of the desk. He reentered her once again but didn’t move, Amira immediately started moving her hips trying to chase down her ruined orgasm, he help her in place “After your behaviour, the past few days I don’t think you deserve to cum” he said nibbling on that spot beneath her ear which drove her crazy, “Tywin please, I’m sorry” she whined, the feeling being both too much but not enough to get her where she so desperately wanted to be “Sorry for what?” he asked as he slowly started moving but not enough to get her cum, “I’m sorry for disrespecting you, I’ll never do it again” she said placing soft kisses along his chin before capturing his lips between hers. “You better not” he said finally going back to the rough pace he'd set earlier. He felt the table move slightly under them but the feeling of Amira’s pussy squeezing him like never before spurred him on. “Oh my gods Tywin” she screamed as she came grabbing her shoulder so tight she might’ve left marks if he hadn’t still been wearing his shirt. He followed soon after her savouring the sweet release his been missing for over a month. He gently lifted her off the table and into his arms as he sat down in his chair with her in his lap.
Amira rested against Tywin’s chest, her breathing steadying as his arms encircled her. She played absentmindedly with the golden lion embroidered on his robe, her earlier frustration now replaced with a contented calm. “I apologize for not giving you the attention you deserve,” Tywin said quietly, his voice low but firm. His hand traced soothing circles along her back. “But if you ever undermine me again or pull another stunt like that, you will regret it.”
Amira tilted her head up to meet his gaze, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. “Understood, my lord.” He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead, and she allowed herself to nestle closer. The warning had been clear, but so had the care behind it.
A few weeks passed and the faint signs of nausea, heightened sensitivity to smells, and sudden cravings made Amira suspect she might be with child again. Her excitement grew as she went to see the maester, and when her suspicions were confirmed, she could hardly contain herself. With joy in her heart, she rushed to Tywin’s study, her skirts swishing as she practically ran through the halls of Casterly Rock.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door without bothering to knock, she caught Tywin mid-sentence, dictating correspondence to a scribe. He glanced up sharply, but before he could chastise her for the interruption, her radiant smile disarmed him. “I’m with child,” she announced breathlessly, her hands clasped in front of her stomach.
The scribe quickly excused himself, leaving the couple alone. Tywin’s sharp features softened, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stood, crossing the room to her, and placed a hand gently over hers on her belly. “Another heir,” he said simply, but the warmth in his tone spoke volumes. She grinned. “Hopefully, one who sleeps through the night faster than Loreon did.” Tywin let out a soft chuckle, his hand lingering on hers for a moment longer. “You’ve done well, Amira.”
Amira’s pregnancy progressed smoothly, but at five months, she began craving a particular dish from her childhood—an intricate recipe exclusive to the Reach. She spent days directing the cooks in the kitchen, attempting to replicate the flavors she missed so dearly, but each attempt fell short. Her frustration grew with each failed effort, and it didn’t escape Tywin’s notice.
One evening, after seeing her practically tear up at the sight of another failed attempt, Tywin decided to take matters into his own hands. That night, he wrote to Lady Olenna, humbling himself enough to request the services of a few Tyrell cooks, along with the ingredients required to prepare the dish Amira craved.
Lady Olenna’s reply arrived swiftly, laced with her characteristic wit.
“My dear Lord Tywin,
How quickly you are wrapped around my daughter’s little finger. Should I be alarmed, or should I congratulate her? Nevertheless, I will send the cooks and ingredients. May you continue to accommodate her whims, for it pleases me greatly to see my daughter so cherished.
Yours, Olenna Tyrell”
Within a fortnight, a convoy from Highgarden arrived at Casterly Rock, bringing not only the ingredients but the expertise needed to prepare the dish perfectly.
Amira sat at the dining table one evening, expecting another failed attempt. To her surprise, the scent wafting through the room was exactly as she remembered. When the dish was placed before her, she hesitated, staring at it in disbelief.
“How?” she asked, looking at Tywin, her eyes wide with astonishment.
He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. “I wrote to your mother and borrowed a few of her cooks. It seems even she recognizes the wisdom in keeping you content.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she laughed softly. “You did this for me?”
“You’re carrying my child,” he replied simply, though his tone held more warmth than he usually allowed. “You deserve to be cared for.”
She reached across the table to take his hand, squeezing it as a few happy tears escaped.
Towards the final months of her pregnancy the couple sat by the fire in Tywin’s chambers, the crackling flames casting a golden glow over the room. Amira lounged on a chaise, her swollen belly resting comfortably as she sipped on a soothing tea. Tywin, seated in his chair, was reading a letter, but his attention shifted to her when she sighed.
“What is it now?” he asked, though his tone was not unkind. She smiled at him. “I was just thinking about the baby. What do you hope it will be?” Tywin placed the letter aside, folding his hands in his lap. “Another son would secure our house further. Loreon will need a strong brother to support him.” Amira chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You already have your son, Tywin. I want a daughter this time—a little girl with your determination and my charm.”
He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “A dangerous combination.”
“Exactly,” she said with a playful grin. “The realm won’t know what hit it.”
Tywin chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever the Seven bless us with, I’m sure they will make their mark.” As the fire crackled, Amira nodded in agreement with Tywin’s words, though a flicker of skepticism lingered in her mind. “If they take after us both, I just hope they’re more manageable,” she teased lightly, though her tone hinted at a cautious optimism for what their child’s future might hold.
A few weeks later, Amira gave birth to a healthy baby girl. As she lay cradling the tiny infant in her arms, she felt a mix of pride and apprehension. Tywin entered the chamber, his expression unreadable as his eyes swept over mother and child.
“She’s beautiful,” Amira began, her voice tinged with a nervous edge. “But I know you were hoping for another son—”
Tywin raised a hand, silencing her gently. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on their daughter. “Diana,” he said thoughtfully, the name rolling off his tongue with weight and purpose. “She’ll be a force to be reckoned with, like her mother.”
Relief washed over Amira, and she couldn’t help but smile as Tywin leaned down to place a rare, soft kiss on her forehead. His approval, so often elusive, filled her with a quiet sense of triumph.
The weeks that followed Diana’s birth found Amira settling into a comfortable routine. Between caring for her two children, overseeing the household staff, and managing her charitable endeavors, she was as busy as ever. Yet, tonight, sleep evaded her. After tossing and turning, she decided to check on Diana, seeking solace in the sight of her newborn.
The nursery was dimly lit by the soft glow of a single candle, and to Amira’s surprise, she found Tywin already there. He stood by the crib, gently rocking Diana in his arms. The sight of the Great Lion of the Rock cradling their daughter so tenderly brought a warmth to her chest.
“My lord,” she said softly, stepping further into the room. “What are you doing up at this late hour?” Without looking away from the baby, Tywin replied with a rare hint of humor, “I could ask you the same, my lady.”
Amira smiled and moved closer, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Diana’s tiny chest as she began to drift off. For a while, they stood together in companionable silence, their shared focus on the peaceful infant in Tywin’s arms. Finally, Tywin spoke, his tone quieter than usual. “She has your determination, I think. Even now, she holds on tightly, unwilling to let go.” “And she’ll have your strength,” Amira replied softly, her eyes shining as they met his.
After a quiet moment of watching Diana, Tywin gently laid her back in her crib, adjusting the blankets with a rare tenderness. Straightening up, he turned to Amira, his gaze warm but intent. He offered her his arm, his voice low and intimate as he said, “It’s late, my lady. You should be resting.”
She smiled, slipping her hand through his arm. “Perhaps. But I find it hard to sleep lately.”
He tilted his head, studying her face. “Then I suppose it’s fortunate I’m here to keep you company.” His expression softened further, and he added, almost as if confiding, “You’ve healed well enough, I’d wager. I’ve missed having you near.”
Amira’s heart skipped a beat at his words, her cheeks warming. “Have you now, my lord?” Tywin’s smirk was faint but unmistakable. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Amira. Surely you know that by now.”
She laughed lightly, the sound soft in the quiet of the nursery. “Ever so straightforward, aren’t you?”
“Only when it matters,” he murmured, his hand resting over hers as he guided her back toward her chambers.
When the door closed behind them, Tywin turned to her fully, his hand rising to cup her cheek. “I’ve missed you, Amira,” he said again, his voice steady but threaded with rare vulnerability. “In every way.” Her breath caught, her laughter fading into something more tender. “Then don’t waste another moment, my lord.”
Tywin needed no further invitation, capturing her lips with his. As the firelight flickered in the room, their connection deepened once again, not just in passion but in the unspoken bond growing stronger between them.