TYWIN
The Hand of the King's solar was a testament to order and purpose. Unlike the chaotic royal chambers with their dragon skulls and haphazard arrangement of treasures, Tywin Lannister's private domain within the Tower of the Hand reflected its occupant's nature—everything in its proper place, nothing superfluous, power expressed through calculated restraint rather than ostentatious display.
Tywin stood at the tall windows overlooking King's Landing, hands clasped behind his back, watching the sprawling city come to life in the early morning light. The position afforded him not just a view of the capital but a moment of solitude before the day's political battles began. These quiet minutes were when he did his best thinking—when he could assess the great game of power without interruption.
And today, there was much to assess.
His daughter's words from their private dinner the previous evening still echoed in his mind.
"I've been invited to see Nightfury again tomorrow," Cersei had told him, unable to completely mask her enthusiasm despite her carefully cultivated poise. "Prince Thalor believes I might offer useful insights on the dragon's harness design."
"And what of Prince Rhaegar?" Tywin had asked, noting the spark in his daughter's eyes when she spoke of the second son. "You've spent considerably less time in his company, despite my instructions."
Cersei's expression had cooled then. "Prince Rhaegar is perpetually surrounded by admirers or buried in his books and harp. He's polite when we speak but shows little interest in anything beyond courteous pleasantries. Prince Thalor, however, actively seeks my opinions on matters of substance."
Now, as dawn broke over the city, Tywin contemplated the implications of his daughter's growing connection with the Dragon Prince. It wasn't the alliance he had originally envisioned when sending her to court, but circumstances had changed significantly in recent months.
Prince Thalor's return to small council meetings after years of exclusion had altered the delicate balance of power at court. Though the prince had returned to King's Landing after only half a year on Dragonstone, King Aerys had kept his second son at arm's length, refusing to allow him to attend council or participate in court functions. Only recently had that restriction been lifted, and already the impact was being felt throughout the Red Keep.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted his contemplation.
"Enter," he commanded, not turning from the window.
The measured footsteps that followed told him the identity of his visitor before the man spoke.
"My lord Hand," came the smooth, slightly unctuous voice of Grand Maester Pycelle. "I've brought the reports you requested."
Tywin turned, fixing the maester with his penetrating gaze. Pycelle's obsequious manner was irritating but useful. Their unspoken alliance of pragmatism had proven valuable countless times over the years, ever since Tywin had first noticed Pycelle's careful documentation of court matters and his tendency to preserve sensitive information rather than sharing it with the Citadel as protocol dictated.
"The Small Council minutes?" Tywin asked, extending his hand.
"Yes, my lord. Along with the private correspondence from our friends at court." Pycelle handed over several scrolls, his chain of office clinking softly with the movement. "Including observations on the... developing dynamics between the royal brothers now that Prince Thalor has been permitted to rejoin council meetings."
Tywin nodded, taking the documents and placing them on his immaculate desk. "What have you observed yourself, Grand Maester? You've attended both princes in council."
Pycelle stroked his beard thoughtfully, much as Tywin had seen him do in the Small Council chamber when first learning of Nightfury's hatching years ago. The gesture transformed his appearance from doddering old man to shrewd observer.
"Prince Thalor has grown more assured during his years of semi-isolation in the Red Keep. Though barred from council until recently, he used his time productively—developing designs, studying governance, and of course, bonding further with his dragon. His contributions since rejoining council have been surprisingly practical and well-received."
"And his relationship with his brother?" Tywin pressed.
"Cordial but reserved," Pycelle replied. "Prince Rhaegar treats him with the formal courtesy one would expect, but there's an underlying tension. The crown prince has grown accustomed to being the sole focus of court attention. Now he must share that spotlight with a brother who commands an increasingly formidable dragon and achievements."
This aligned with Tywin's own observations and Cersei's reports. Crown Prince Rhaegar had grown comfortable as the sole royal presence of significance during his brother's effective banishment from court functions. The younger prince's recent reintegration—particularly with a now-formidable dragon—represented a potential challenge to Rhaegar's position, even if Thalor himself showed no overt ambition for the throne.
"And the king?" Tywin asked, though he already knew the answer.
Pycelle's expression grew grave. "His Grace remains... unpredictable. His treatment of Prince Thalor varies wildly from day to day. Sometimes he speaks of him with pride, particularly regarding the dragon. Other times, he mutters about betrayal and defiance, clearly still angry about the prince's refusal to execute prisoners years ago, despite allowing him back to King's Landing shortly after his brief escape."
"Which he still refers to as a 'technical assignment,'" Tywin noted dryly.
"Indeed. A fiction everyone at court maintains, though none believe."
Tywin moved to his desk, sorting through the scrolls Pycelle had delivered. "The king raised the matter of Prince Thalor's marriage at council a few weeks ago."
"Yes," Pycelle nodded. "Most... disturbing suggestions."
"Disturbing but predictable," Tywin corrected. "Aerys's obsession with Targaryen bloodlines has always been evident. His deteriorating mental state has merely removed whatever restraint he once possessed."
He unrolled one of the scrolls, scanning its contents with practiced efficiency. It contained reports from his agents throughout the Seven Kingdoms—lords' reactions to Thalor's recent reemergence in court politics, gossip from lesser houses, assessments of where various powers might align should the brewing tensions at court erupt into open conflict.
"What interests me," Tywin continued, "is not the king's madness, which is a known quantity, but how the dynamic between the brothers will develop. Rhaegar has spent years cultivating his image as the perfect prince—scholarly, martial, beloved by commons and nobles alike. Now his younger brother has rejoined council with a marriage order—before him—and a reputation for practical achievements rather than prophetic obsessions."
"You believe Prince Thalor poses a threat to Prince Rhaegar's position as heir?" Pycelle asked.
"Not intentionally, perhaps." Tywin set aside the scroll. "But threat need not be intentional to be real. The realm has begun to divide its loyalties. Some lords, particularly those who value stability and practical governance, look more favorably on the dragon prince than the dreamer crown prince."
Pycelle considered this. "Yet Prince Thalor has shown no signs of desiring the throne."
"Few men openly declare such ambitions until the moment is right," Tywin observed coldly. "And sometimes ambition is thrust upon a man by circumstances rather than choice."
He picked up another report—this one detailing recent sightings of Nightfury. According to observers, Thalor had been taking him on regular flights around Blackwater Bay, careful to maintain distance from populated areas but clearly exercising the beast's capabilities.
"The dragon changes everything," Tywin said, more to himself than to Pycelle. "It shifts the balance of power not just within House Targaryen but throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
"Surely even with a dragon, a second son cannot easily displace the rightful heir," Pycelle ventured.
Tywin's green eyes, flecked with gold, fixed on the Grand Maester with cold intensity. "History suggests otherwise. The Dance of Dragons began with such a dispute, and nearly destroyed House Targaryen in the process." He set the scroll aside. "But you mistake my interest. I'm not concerned with which Targaryen sits the throne—I'm concerned with which Targaryen will best serve the realm's stability. And by extension, House Lannister's interests."
Understanding dawned on Pycelle's face. "You're reconsidering your position regarding Lady Cersei and the princes."
"I'm adjusting to reality," Tywin replied evenly. "My daughter has established a close connection with Prince Thalor. She speaks highly of his intelligence and vision for the realm. Her reports indicate he values her political insights and has granted her privileges few others at court enjoy."
Pycelle nodded. "I have observed their interactions myself. Prince Thalor seems genuinely appreciative of Lady Cersei's counsel—more so than one typically expects from a youth of his age. Her multiple visits to his workshop and time spent with Nightfury have been noted throughout court."
"As has her lack of similar rapport with Prince Rhaegar," Tywin added with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Despite my explicit instructions to cultivate relationships with both princes."
"Prince Rhaegar is..." Pycelle searched for a diplomatic phrase, "...less accessible than his brother. His interests tend toward the abstract and theoretical rather than the practical matters that seem to bond Lady Cersei and Prince Thalor."
Tywin absorbed this information silently. When he had first sent Cersei to court, his vision had been clear—she would become queen through marriage to Rhaegar. The possibility that she might develop a genuine preference for the second son had not been part of his calculations.
If Cersei had indeed established a genuine connection with Prince Thalor, it might be wiser to adjust his strategy accordingly rather than forcing her to redirect her efforts toward the increasingly distant Rhaegar.
"My daughter claims Prince Thalor values her precisely because she speaks truth to him rather than flattery," Tywin said. "That he seeks her opinions on matters of governance and practical innovation. She believes she could shape his already practical mindset toward ambitions that would benefit both our houses."
"A significant opportunity," Pycelle acknowledged. "And one that might align more naturally with Lady Cersei's own temperament than would a match with the more... introspective crown prince."
After Pycelle departed, Tywin remained at his desk, his eyes fixed on a map of the Seven Kingdoms spread before him. The pieces on the board were shifting in unexpected ways. His daughter's closeness with Thalor represented both an opportunity and a complication.
A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts, and his brother Kevan entered without waiting for permission—a privilege granted only to him among Tywin's subordinates.
"Brother," Kevan greeted him with a nod. "News from the yards. Prince Thalor took Nightfury on a demonstration flight over the Blackwater this morning. Half the court turned out to watch. The dragon grows more impressive by the month."
"Was Cersei among the observers?" Tywin asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Not merely among them," Kevan replied. "She stood at the prince's side during his explanations of the flight patterns. Several courtiers noted their ease with one another." He studied his brother's face. "Her strategy appears to be yielding results, though perhaps not the ones you originally intended."
"Every strategy must adapt to changing circumstances," Tywin said.
"And Cersei has positioned herself as his trusted confidante," Kevan observed.
"So it appears."
"This wasn't your original plan," Kevan said carefully. "You've spoken for years of Cersei as a future queen."
"The path to power need not always involve a crown," Tywin replied evenly. "A dragon may ultimately prove more valuable in securing House Lannister's position."
Tywin rose from his desk and returned to the window, where he could now see a small gathering in one of the courtyards below. The flash of golden hair amid the crowd was unmistakably Cersei's, and beside her, the silver-gold of Prince Thalor. "We shall observe how these new... alignments develop before committing to any particular course."
As Kevan joined him at the window, Tywin's mind was already calculating multiple possible futures and how House Lannister might benefit from each.
"Do you regret not being more specific in your instructions to Cersei?" Kevan asked.
"No," Tywin replied, watching as his daughter laughed at something the prince said. "She's a Lannister. She recognizes opportunity when she sees it." His eyes narrowed slightly. "But I will need to ensure her growing... attachment... to the Dragon Prince doesn't cloud her judgment regarding House Lannister's ultimate interests."
"And what are those interests, as you see them now?"
Tywin was silent for a moment, considering. "Power that endures," he finally said. "Whether wielded beside a throne or from dragonback matters less than ensuring House Lannister's influence shapes the realm for generations to come."
He turned from the window, his decision made. "I will formally request Cersei's betrothal to Prince Rhaegar."
Kevan's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Despite everything you've just said about her connection to Prince Thalor?"
"Precisely because of it," Tywin replied, moving back to his desk where he pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. "Aerys will refuse the match, of course. His paranoia regarding my influence has only grown since he rejected my previous suggestions. But the formal request serves multiple purposes."
Understanding dawned on Kevan's face. "It maintains the appearance that House Lannister still prioritizes the traditional path of succession."
"While simultaneously..." Tywin prompted, dipping his quill in ink.
"While allowing Cersei to continue cultivating her relationship with Prince Thalor without appearing to target the second son from the beginning," Kevan finished. "The king's rejection becomes the justification for pursuing an alternative alliance."
"Which will seem all the more natural given the connection Cersei has already established," Tywin confirmed, beginning to draft the formal request with precise, measured script. "Furthermore, it reinforces the narrative of House Lannister being slighted by the crown, should that grievance ever need to be leveraged in the future."
Kevan watched his brother write with newfound appreciation for the layers of strategy at work. "And should Aerys unexpectedly accept the match?"
"He won't," Tywin said with absolute certainty. "But if he did, a Lannister queen beside the future king remains a powerful position. Cersei would adapt." His quill paused momentarily. "Though I suspect she would find such an outcome less satisfying than she once might have."
As he completed the formal request that he fully expected to be rejected, Tywin felt a rare moment of satisfaction. The situation was developing in unexpected ways, but each new variable could be incorporated into his grand design for House Lannister's advancement. Cersei's growing attachment to the Dragon Prince, while not part of his original plan, might ultimately prove more advantageous than the path he had initially charted for her.
The game had changed, but the objective remained the same. And Tywin Lannister had not spent decades building House Lannister into the wealthiest and most powerful family in Westeros only to fail to adapt when the winds of change began to blow.