Tyrion watched, rather pleased with himself, as the small party of lords made their way forward. Joffrey was holding court, something that Tyrion had asked him to do so that he could publically accept the lords of the Blackwater's oaths of loyalty.
The acting Hand to the king had used all his political know-how to bring the lords of the Blackwater to the Lannister cause, which was not an easy task given that the might of four kingdoms stood against them. Tyrion had offered everything from land to marriages to more trade options with other parts of Essos. He had also accepted around half a dozen wards to be taken in and raised in King's Landing.
Thankfully, Tyrion's hard work had brought five thousand more men to his father's aid, along with dozens of ships. The royal fleet had returned to King's Landing after Stannis's death, giving Joffrey a fleet of his own, although nothing compared to the Redwyne or Iron Fleet. But now that number had doubled with the additions of the crownlander lords.
The new ships were sorely needed as Tyrion's plan of sailing food into the capital had met a massive roadblock. House Velaryon, according to Lord Celtigar, was the only crownlander house to pledge its loyalty to Robb Stark after Stannis's defeat. Now, a small fleet loyal to the Stark king used Driftmark as a base of operations to disrupt ships going in and out of King's Landing, led by the Onion Knight on the former flagship of the royal fleet: Fury.
Just like when the man was with Stannis, Davos Seaworth was annoyingly good at what he was doing, especially since he had the help of two dozen lysene pirate ships along with Aurane Waters, one of the better captains in Blackwater Bay. Together, the small group had taken and burned more than a dozen ships that Tyrion had sent out to barter for food from Pentos and Braavos.
Tyrion hoped that he would be able to take out the rebels with the newly reformed royal fleet. With them out of the way, Tyrion's plan then had an actual chance to work. The food shortage in the city was reaching new highs, and the Gold Cloaks under Ser Jacelyn were having a tough time keeping the peace.
"Welcome, my lords!" Joffrey announced happily from his place on the Iron Throne. At his side, as always, was his mother, while other members of the Small Council stood nearby.
Adrian Celtigar led the group of men who knelt before the young king. "Your grace, we have come to pledge our loyalty to you as the true king of Westeros, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and king of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men."
Cersei smiled sweetly. "Rise, my lords, and be recognized as true bannermen to the king." The men rose, bowed once more, and moved off to the side of the room as the court clapped politely, welcoming the new men.
Tyrion wasn't sure how much the courtiers knew of the war, or the dire position House Lannister was in. If they did, they would no doubt flee the capital while they could, like rats from a sinking ship.
Joffrey continued to take petitioners for another few hours before dismissing the court for the day. The boy-king had grown tired of hearing his people complain to him and looked like he wanted to do nothing more than play with his crossbow or go abuse his siblings.
Tyrion had asked Cersei about having Joffrey trained with a sword, and to his surprise, Cersei said that he was. Their cousin, Lancel Lannister, trained him every morning along with Ser Meryn Trant, the man who had taken over as Lord Commander until Jaime was freed.
Tyrion had argued that Joffrey should be trained by someone with a bit more skill, suggesting Ser Arys Oakheart or Ser Mandon Moore, two of the more capable members of the less-than-talented group. But Cersei had waved aside his suggestion, stating that Joffrey was in perfect hands of Lancel and Meryn.
Now, Tyrion entered his office, where Pod was waiting with a small stack of messages. While Joffrey and Cersei got to go do as they please and cause chaos and mischief, Tyrion was still busy making sure that the small bit of realm that Joffrey still controlled was still standing.
"Ah Pod, how are we today?" Tyrion asked, waddling over to his chair and hopping into it, instantly pouring himself a glass of wine.
The young man nodded quickly. "I am well, my lord." he greeted formally.
"How is training with Bronn?"
Pod hesitated. "It's good, my lord." the boy stuttered. "It's not exactly knightly training, but it's still very good."
Tyrion resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Bronn wasn't going to teach the boy how to fight like a knight. The sellsword was the furthest thing Tyrion had ever met from a knight. But he would teach the boy how to survive a fight, and that's what Tyrion cared about.
"Ah, well, I'm sure we can sort that out later when we find you a proper teacher," Tyrion said easily. "For now, continue to train with Bronn. He's very good with that overgrown toothpick of his."
Pod smiled slightly before realizing that he still had a stack of messages. He set them down on the desk, gesturing to the top piece. "From Lord Tywin, my lord."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow, unfolding the message and quickly reading it. His father's words were simple, to the point, and utterly mad. There was no way he expected Tyrion to try and make this happen. If it was any other man, the acting-Hand would have laughed it off as a joke.
Tyrion's father never joked.
"Pod, will you go ask my sister to join me," Tyrion asked quietly, setting the message down on his desk. His squire bowed and left.
Tyrion waited patiently, just staring at the message until his sister arrived. She glared at her younger brother, obviously not happy that she had been summoned. She went to speak, but Tyrion held up a hand, waving for Pod to close the door and leave. When the boy was gone, Tyrion gestured for his sister to take a seat, pouring her a glass of wine.
"I have news," he said quietly, trying to hold off what was about to come.
Cersei rolled her eyes. "Speak plainly. I have no patience for your games."
Tyrion pushed the little piece of parchment towards her. "I got this from Father. He wants me to set up an alliance with the Martells. He is ordering me to offer them Myrcella's hand."
The blood seemed to drain from Cersei's face as she read the message before throwing it on the desk angrily. She took a drink of her wine, her eyes now blazing with fury.
There were many things that Tyrion found unpleasant about his sister. But there were two things he would never be able to argue against. The first was that she was stunningly beautiful. She was known as one of the most beautiful women in Westeros, and Tyrion could easily see why that was so.
The second point was that Cersei loved her children. She was fiercely protective of them, like a lioness with her cubs. She indulged Joffrey too much, feeding his power-hungry nature, but she loved Tommen and Myrcella just as much as she loved Joffrey. It was one of her better qualities.
"Bloody madness," she muttered, gazing darkly at the letter. "Father is wrong."
Cersei had always been headstrong, the only one with the courage to stand up to their father and say that he was wrong. Of course, whenever she had done so, their father had put her in her place without a pause. Tyrion had always tried to go about it a different way, pointing out where problems might arise with the plan rather than outright calling it wrong.
Now, there were too many things wrong with the idea to point out, mainly because the entire plan was outrageous.
Tyrion nodded slowly. "In this case, we are in agreement. I'd much rather try to find a marriage in the Vale, perhaps Myrcella to Robin Arryn, but seeking an alliance with the Martells seems….ignorant. Especially after what happened at the end of Robert's Rebellion."
"Elia Martell." Cersei said.
"Indeed," Tyrion said gravely. "But, we do not have the luxury of picking and choosing allies. There are very few resources left available to us, and we must snatch them up before it is too late."
"You will not sell my daughter!" Cersei hissed. "Not like when you tried to sell Joff!"
"We don't have a choice." Tyrion snapped. "Look at the situation we are in, the situation you and your son put us in! We. Need. Allies!"
Cersei looked ready to reach across the desk and smack Tyrion, but she managed to restrain herself, breathing deeply and finishing off her glass of wine in one go. When she was done, she put the cup down with more force than what was required, nearly breaking the object.
"I will send a letter to Prince Doran Martell offering Myrcella's hand to his youngest son Trystane," Tyrion explained. "Ser Arys will go with her as protection. Another letter will be sent to the Vale, where Baelish has been altogether too comfortable. He will have an ultimatum: he will have two weeks to find a way to forge an alliance between ourselves and the Vale or return to King's Landing and hope the king doesn't take his head for failing." Tyrion sighed, rubbing his face. "We got lucky, Cersei. The Stark boy marched north and his home is under attack. We no longer have enemies behind us. Lord Rykker can now move forward and join Father in the Riverlands."
"What about the raiders at Driftmark?" Cersei asked, clearly just as caught up on what was going on around her.
"When the rest of the fleet arrives, I will give Lord Celtigar command and have him take Driftmark, capturing Lord Velaryon in the process. With them out of the way, we can hopefully begin bringing in food from Essos." Tyrion explained.
"And the Onion Knight and the pirates?"
"Will be sent to the bottom of the Blackwater," Tyrion answered firmly.
Cersei nodded slowly, the anger draining from her till it was just a dull burn. "Is there anything else I or my son should know about?"
Tyrion chewed on his lip, debating whether or not to say anything. "I am looking into hiring a company or two from Essos," he admitted. "Most are taken up already, but I am still looking into it."
Cersei frowned. "And where will the funds come from?"
"House Lannister has an account with the Iron Bank," Tyrion explained. "Father's fall back plan, as it were. It might be enough to get the Second Sons or the Windblown, but the Golden Company is too far out of our price range. Especially now that the Westerlands have been pillaged."
Cersei sighed. "Very well, I will tell my son that we are finding more allies," she said, getting up. "When will you tell the Council about this?"
"The next meeting is tomorrow. I should have the details figured out by then." Tyrion said. "I suggest you speak to Myrcella as well and make sure she knows what might happen."
"My daughter sold like common livestock," Cersei growled quietly.
Tyrion bit his tongue, wanting to say that this was Cersei's fault. She allowed her son to kill Ned Stark. If he had stayed alive, then they would have been able to reach an agreement with Robb Stark. Now, all they could do is rely on Tyrion to bring more allies into the fold and Tywin to make sure the Stark boy stays north of Harrenhal.
"It's the way life is," Tyrion replied grimly. "Sacrifices must be made and we all must play our part. Even one as young and innocent as Myrcella."
Cersei sniffed and went to leave.
"Cersei," Tyrion said, stopping his sister. "I understand that Joffrey is training with a sword, but please know that he does need to learn in case battle comes to the city. He will have to know how to protect himself. Please have him understand that."
Cersei nodded once and walked out, not giving Tyrion an answer.