Tywin V
"Father!? The North? What can those barbarians offer us?"
Tywin stared at Cersei for a moment, long enough for her to swallow and then moderate her tone.
"I don't understand this, father. Please could you explain it to me so that I don't inadvertantly spoil your plans?"
Better. That was the peril of daughters with strong wills. Hopefully Cersei's future husband would be as accomodating as Genna's husband - and without the unfortunate kinship to the lustful Lord of the Twins. "Besides the King, Cersei there are only a handful of men of suitable rank and age to be offered your hand."
"Then why not the King? He isn't to marry the Stark chit, so what other lady can he court?"
"He intends to marry a Crownlander, a decision which isn't without some merit from his perspective."
"And I suppose he felt that if he married me he'd have to render us a princely house, the way he did the Starks and Arryns."
"Possibly." Tywin personally doubted that it would have been the result. Jaime would reap the benefits, which was, on balance acceptable. "The decision is made however. That leaves Prince Stannis and Lord Benjen... unless you think there would be any point in pursuing a marriage to Oberyn Martell?"
"A degenerate of a degenerate House that rule the most degenerate of the Kingdoms. But at least they aren't savages."
"The Starks are hardly as savage as some of their bannermen. Whatever our part, the key alliance for the next generation will be based around Hoster Tully's grandchildren, the heirs to three Kingdoms and at least two branches inheriting a close bond with our current King, something he is hardly foolish enough to neglect. Marrying a Stark brings you into that."
"Wedding Stannis Baratheon would be as good. At least he's now of royal blood."
"True. And as a close counsellor to his brother, marrying him would put you in a significant position at court. But he's also stubbon and exceedingly jealous of his authority. As his bride you would have little latitude or influence over him. In contrast, Benjen Stark has been shielded from the war and is hardly noted for lordly ambitions."
"More malleable then."
Tywin nodded, glad the girl was finally using her wits. "The Baratheon brothers are hardly close, in comparison to the way the King views Prince Stark, and he is even closer to Lyanna Stark. It's reasonable to believe that Benjen Stark may could receive a similarly high degree of favour."
"From some god-forsaken hold in a far corner of the North?"
"A small holdfast in and of itself, but the lands proposed are extremely large and Lord Stark has agreed that to develop them his brother will have full authority to grant lands to a knightly house should they be willing to endow a younger son with sufficient smallfolk to make use of it. That's an opportunity that even Stannis Baratheon won't have in taking control of his new march: the chance to shape the demesne to his own pattern."
"Ah." Cersei nodded. "And there will be Westerland knights well placed to take advantage of this?"
"Naturally. Much better that they be enriching their houses in the North than cluttering taverns and brothels across half of Westeros."
His daughter smiled in understanding. "So what lands is Lord Benjen to be offered?"
Tywin drew out one of the maps he kept rolled on the desk for immediate reference. "With the King's permission? All of this."
Cersei stared. "Truly?"
"I would expect that he will take the name of this settlement for his demesne. Lady of Queenscrown has a suitable ring to it, does it not?"
Olenna I
Her son was plotting again. She could tell by the way he was glancing sideways at her when he thought she wasn't watching.
"Out with it, you oaf," she called down the table. "The Florents and Hightowers probably already know what you're up to so you might as well share it with your family."
The Lord Paramount of the Reach frowned into his beard. "The Stag has sent a letter."
"Ah, still sore are you? You should have taken his first offer, Mace, not pressed on and hoped you could use his brothers as leverage against him."
"Storm's End was about to fall!"
"Almost, but not quite."
Mace's jaw snapped shut and he glowered.
"What did the new king write to you about, dear?" asked Alerie. "A marriage, perhaps? It's said that Lyanna Stark returned to the North rather than wed him."
"I would have thought mother was too old for him, but then again the man is rapacious."
Olenna tilted her head. "I'm a little deaf in this ear, boy, but I'm called to court I take it?"
Mace nodded. "Perhaps he misses his own mother. It seems he wants you to be his Master of Whispers. Mistress, I should say."
"I've always thought that the Seven Kingdoms would do better if the Lords heeded their mothers better. It's the first time though that I've come across one of them putting that into practise."
"There's never been a woman on the Small Council," grumbled Mace. "It's unnatural."
"Well we know balls aren't a requirement or Aerys wouldn't have appointed Varys."
"What happened to Lord Varys?" asked Willas from the far side of his father.
"He wasn't a lord, dear?" his mother corrected the boy.
"It's a good question though. The Spider won't stop spinning his webs for something as small as dismissal."
"He didn't say."
"I didn't expect you to know," she told Mace. "Still, Corbray dead and replaced with the middle Baratheon, Varys replaced and Hoster Tully off home in a huff. Judging by the fuss at the Citadel, Pycelle might find himself out of his place as Grand Maester too. That's more than half the Small Council changed and the Stag hasn't been on the throne for a year yet."
"I hadn't heard that!" exclaimed her son. "The King can't dismiss the Grand Maester!"
Olenna gave a illutrative sigh at the boy's slowness. "He can write to the Conclave though, and Pycelle's never been discreet. I'd wager all he'd have to ask them was whether they'd rather appoint a new Grand Maester or have no Maester on the Small Council at all. "
"Pycelle's been good enough for three Targaryen kings."
"That's likely the point. Out with the old and in with the new."
"Does that mean you'll decline the post, mother?" asked Alerie.
Olenna took her stick and tapped it on the floor to signal Left to pull her chair back from the table. "Don't be silly, girl. And don't call me mother, I'm only at fault for one fool at this table."