The Red Keep
As he made his way towards the chambers of the small council, Tywin Lannister, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the west and Shield of Lannisport, was busy in his thoughts pondering upon the fate of the seven kingdoms as of late. The Rebellion had emerged victorious, and the foundations of power that the Targaryen's had instilled for the last four hundred years in Westeros were now crumbling into dust, and he intended to do everything in his power to ensure that House Lannister had a say in defining the contours of the future; and for that it was necessary for him to ingratiate himself to the new king, however galling that concept might be to his pride.
Even he had been taken aback, observing from the sidelines as the fierce war had raged all around Westeros. To think that Rhaegar had been so capable as a general; the fool, for that was what he was, because as capable a general as he was, that idiot had no sense for the great game, and had foolishly squandered away his life and the fortunes of his family in a youthful fit of lust and brashness. If he had desired a new bride, all he had to do was say the word, and Tywin would have seen to it that his marriage with that Dornish chit would be abolished. He knew well what strings needed to be pulled so that the faith would give its assent to an annulment. With Cersei as his wife, and the full might of the West behind him, and Rhaegar's own martial talents notwithstanding, they would have been an unstoppable force.
To be fair, perhaps even Rhaegar had not accounted that his opposition would also contain generals of his caliber. That perhaps had been his greatest miscalculation. During the war, Rhaegar had no doubt proven himself a great general and tactician with both intellect and courage, even though he lacked prowess in the martial arts, and it was that weakness which had become his undoing in the end. Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark had proven themselves as men who warranted the utmost of caution in dealing with.
He would not make the mistake of assuming that both were young, untested men, like the lords of Crownlands had done, much to their misfortune. It galled him to the core, but no matter what, no matter how furiously he raged against conceding the point that they were better than him at least in the art of waging war in his mind, he had to grudgingly accept that he was no match for either of the two young men. And it made it even more imperative that he ingratiate himself with the rebellion by any means necessary, to ensure that they would not focus their considerable martial skills against him.
Of the two leaders of the rebellion, each was a conundrum in his own right. For hundreds of years, the southerners had disparaged the north as a desolate and waste land, filled with uncivilized barbarians and louts with no manners, worthless of notice. Oh, how sorely was all of Westeros regretting that fact now! Eddard Stark and his armies had very thoroughly shattered the martial prestige of the entire southlands in the course of their war. Never again would the westerlands underestimate the north as long as he lived, and even beyond, this he swore. But that had brought its own course of problems. Even if he wished to ingratiate himself with the north, there was nothing that they shared with them. Their cultures were too radically different, and anything he could offer in material terms in a way to foster better relationships, be it wealth through trade or through marital alliances, the north already had them in abundance with their relationships with the Riverlands and the Vale. He had met Eddard Stark while the man was still in Kings Landing before he had departed to search for his sister, and the man had left a deep impression. Cold, stern, brilliant in the arts of war, and not a man he would want to cross, at least not without sufficient preparation beforehand. Had he known beforehand of the man's caliber, he would have offered Cersei herself in marriage to the man, and offered him the lands of Castamere itself as a dowry. As a second son, with far lesser prospects than his elder brother, even Rickard Stark would have accepted it, and he would have gained an extraordinarily capable pawn on hand in return. But it was a nonstarter, and now naught but a dream of what could have happened. Aerys and Rhaegar had seen to that, and now, in the twilight of his years, he had gained the most dangerous rival possible in the game of thrones.
Which is why, he had pinned most of his hopes on the Baratheon. Unlike Stark, Robert Baratheon was a southerner and was aware of the existence of the game of thrones. Like Eddard Stark, Robert Baratheon too had proven himself a great general, and had the distinction of being known as the most powerful warrior alive in Westeros currently. Where Eddard Stark was more of a strategical bent, even though he was no slouch as a warrior himself, and preferred to direct his battles from a distance; Robert Baratheon was the complete opposite and relied completely on his instincts to guide the flow of a battle, and was always in the thick of the battle, leading from the front. Their personalities were also the opposite of each other. Where Eddard was reserved, Robert was gregarious. Unlike Stark who abhorred taking risks, Baratheon would gamble heavily on his instincts and make risky plays, the fact that he was always proven right notwithstanding.
This was why, he had chosen to put all his hopes on his old friend's son. Robert was a man who wore his emotions on the sleeve, and thus there was the slightest chance of manipulating him through them, despite the revelation of his new abilities. In battle, Robert had displayed an overwhelming penchant for offense, and had shown a sort of brutish cunning in his tactics, but he was woefully unequipped to handle the politics of a court, which were of a far subtler nature. One that would soon vanish under the clever tutelage of Jon Arryn and Hoster Tully, which he was sure of. This made it even more imperative that he achieve his goals before the return of Stark.
He was close, so close to achieving his goals of seating someone with Lannister blood on the throne. Aerys and his family were gone. As was that worthless Dornish chit who had the audacity of dreaming of becoming queen by marrying Rhaegar. Cersei's tears after Aerys's rejection of his offer was not something that he had forgotten. To think that the most desirable maiden of the seven kingdoms had been swept aside for a worthless wench from a debauched and worthless house like the Martell's, had stung him hard. Even more galling was the implication that Aerys had sent out to the world by refusing him, that Dorne was worthier than the Westerlands. Fools, none were worthier than the Lannister's of Casterly Rock.
Still, he had already laid the foundations of the scheme to see his daughter seated on the throne. Already, septons under his pay were slowly despoiling the reputation of Lyanna Stark in low, hushed tones in the streets of the capital. There were whispers of her being soiled, of being unworthy of the title of queen. Even more damaging were the whispers of how she had wantonly run away with Rhaegar and that she was a harlot, impure and unworthy of the throne. It was slow, tedious work, and he gone to great pains to ensure that the rumor mongers were not associated with him or his house. It was his hope, that in time, the whispers would rise into a crescendo and force Robert to set aside the Stark girl, and bow to the will of the populace and choose a new queen, one who was pure, beautiful, worthy in all respects and was of impeccable lineage. A Lannister, to be more precise, Cersei Lannister. It would take time, but he was always patient. He had waited for twenty years to see his daughter seated as queen, he could wait a few more months.
But, if Robert was too stubborn in his affections for the northern girl, then he would have to resort to more direct means to have the girl removed from his daughter's path. But, he would have to be exceedingly careful in this task. The blunt methods he had used to get rid of the Dornish girl would not work here. Unlike the weak and worthless Martell's, Lyanna Stark's brother was literally capable of wiping out house Lannister completely if enraged. Oh, it would be a costly and bloody affair to be sure, greater in intensity than even the entire rebellion against House Targaryen, but he had no doubts that Eddard Stark would prevail and wipe out the Westerlands in retaliation. And if Robert were to learn of his involvement, hmm, best not to go there. This was a task that would require extreme precision and delicateness in handling. Perhaps the faceless men of Braavos would be of use there. Well, it was a thought to keep in mind. First, he would observe and see where the winds would blow, and then he would act as the situation warrants.
As he neared the doors of the small council chamber, he could hear a spirited discussion going on. It looked like it was going to be another stormy session then. Some things never changed.
Author's note: A brief but insightful peek into the mind of Tywin Lannister. I hope I have done it justice. The next chapter will contain the small council meeting, and it will be one that will set the tone for this entire arc of the story. As the main antagonist for this arc, I thought it was necessary for everyone to see how the mind the most powerful lord paramount in Westeros worked. Well, once he starts facing off against Quentyn, you can imagine how his thoughts will change. But that will be for future chapters.