Olenna II & Tywin VI (284 AC)

Olenna II

The tourney at King's Landing wasn't as grand as the one held at Harrenhal two years before, Olenna noted. This wasn't to say that gold hadn't been spent but to her eye it seemed to have been spent differently. Rather than splendid stands and banners, the new King had focused on durable flags and almost everything used had the look of something that might very well be cleaned, folded up and stored away for another occasion.

Five feasts marked the occasion and while the first and last were entirely at the expense of the King, he'd cannily invited Lord Tully, Prince Arryn and Lord Lannister to each host one banquet, bringing with them delicacies from their Kingdoms to spice up the food on offer. Once again this moderated the expense and Tully hadn't been able to resist the temptation to show off.

Olenna was sure that when Mace learned of the extravagance shown, he'd leap at the chance to seek to surpass it at the next opportunity. At least Prince Arryn and Gerion Lannister - representing his brother - were showing more restraint.

"You don't say that these rumours are true?" Gerion asked as he escorted Olenna to the high table of the Westerland feast.

"That depends which rumours you mean. There's enough that if you recite them all I'll be dead before you're done."

"That might indeed be true, but the one I mean is that it is said you will be replacing Lord Varys on the Small Council."

"Well it's not as if he needs a Master of Ships, with his brother in the role."

"Ha, very true," Gerion conceded. "Alas, my own experience with the Westerlands fleet has not been enough to catch the King's eye when set against the glorious victor of Dragonstone. Why I hear he lost almost half his fleet before laying eyes on the place."

"It can hardly compare to your glorious victories... whatever they were." Her nephew's Redwyne fleet had at least successfully blockaded Storm's End, even if that had left the Reach's coast open to Ironborn depredations.

The Lannister laughed out loud. "The Seven forbid that you and my nephew Tyrion ever meet. His tongue is already sharp enough he could cut himself on it."

"And his father specialises in cutting men down to size, which probably explains the dwarf's height." Olenna tapped the chair Gerion led her to with her stick and Right pulled it back for her. "Go tend your other guests, Ser. I can sit down without help, it's just getting up that is harder with age."

"You're looking well," Lord Estermont observed from his own seat - one place closer to where the King would be sitting once he arrived.

She snorted. "By what standard?"

"At our age the fact we aren't buried is a good start."

"That requires intelligent decision-making, not something I expected from your nephews."

"Well Robert's named you as his new Mistress, which makes your point for you." He'd timed the remark right as the youngest Waynwood girl entered and Olenna saw the girl paling in shock.

Fortunately for the girl's sensibilities, she was placed at a lower table so Olenna wouldn't have to deal with her no doubt insipid whimperings. Instead the seat on her other side was occupied by a quiet Northerner. It took her some time to realise that the man was the by now infamous Lord Bolton, partly because he volunteered no information

"So why did the King appoint you his Senechal?" she demanded of him, after reminding Estermont that he should take Renly Baratheon in hand before the boy's brothers spoiled him rotten.

The pale-eyed lord chewed quietly on a mouthful of pheasent and then swallowed. "We have never discussed that matter."

"No, I don't suppose that you have."

"It may be," he said judiciously, "That you and I have much in common with Tywin Lannister."

Estermont leant forwards to look past Olenna. "Oh, what is that?"

Bolton smiled thinly and refilled his goblet. "Counsellors that can be dismissed, taking the blame for less popular policies."

"I hardly think that Robert is that calculating."

Olenna drew her lips back from her teeth. "I would agree with half of that, Lord Lomas. Are you married, Lord Roose?"

"A widower."

"And likely to remain that way until the King weds - every maid in Westeros is setting her cap at him, and a good many widows who should know better."

Bolton made a non-committal noise that was lost as Gerion finished a rambling set of remarks that were probably intended to be witty and possibly impressed the more inebriated.

The King rose to his feet. "Thank you, Lord Gerion, for hosting this banquet on behalf of your brother. I'm, particularly pleased with the wine, which is well suited both to those such as yourself who have been doing very well in the jousting, and also to certain whose fortunes have been less beneficial - or who waged upon those in that state."

There was a mutter from some of the slower thinkers trying to work out if Robert was complimenting the wine or not.

"One of Lord Tywin's last duties as my Hand was to assist me in considering whom I ought marry. As such it's fitting that it be today, at this feast, that I can announce that Prince Arryn and I have concluded the negotiations for my marriage to Lady Alysanne Chelsted."

The King went around the table and walked down to one of the side tables to where a solidly-built young woman rose from her own seat to greet him. Robert kissed her on the cheek and then ushered her back to her chair before lifting woman and chair together and carrying them back to the high table.

There was a certain amount of shuffling of chairs to make room, Left and Right together lifting Olenna's chair for her without her needing to stand. And following this everyone had to move their platters.

"Qarlton Chelsted's sister, isn't she?"

Lomas nodded. "Twelve years younger than him and this should also settle the succession of those lands."

"A good match, although she'll need a thick skin and possibly a food-taster. She's just made an enemy of every unmarried lady this side of the Narrow Sea."

Lomas nodded. "With seven new Royal Guards to be chosen at the tourney she'll have two assigned to her. I'll mention a food-taster to Robert."

Olenna looked at the tables mostly occupied by Crownlanders. The marriage might win over some of the men - at least enough to push any active rebellion back until after the next winter. Well... if it was a short summer. Maybe.

Tywin VI

Tywin read the message carefully and set it aside. So Robert Baratheon would wed. The Chelsted girl wouldn't have been his preference but allowing for the requirement that the new queen should be a Crownlander she was acceptable. Cersei would no doubt throw a childish tantrum again, really she needed to grow up. It was unlikely the young Stark would be impressed by such behaviour.

"It took him long enough," he said out loud.

"A year isn't such a long time," his next oldest brother observed mildly. "And for much of that it seemed he would be wedding Lyanna Stark."

"I would almost rather that he had. At least Cersei would be less shrill."

"If you say so, Tywin. So Jaime?"

Tywin nodded. "There are three options. Firstly wed him to a daughter of a Lannister bannerman."

"It avoids entanglements."

"But it also leaves us with only a Stark alliance to rely on. The Waynwood girls would have potential - one is to wed Robert's brother, which makes them of acceptable rank."

"A second tie into the more northerly kingdoms," agreed Kevan. "Then the alternative is to find a more southerly alliance."

"Robert punished Mace Tyrell for his defiance, but now he's offering the Reach a chance to redeem themselves. Randyll Tarly as Warden of the South and Olenna Tyrell as putative Master of Whispers are examples." The real master of whispers, whoever it was, must be remaining in the shadows - however canny the Queen of Thorns was said to be, only a mad man would trust a woman with such an important position, even if she wasn't verging on senility.

"The Martells don't trust us at all and the Stormlands all think King Robert only refrains from walking on water because it would get his boots wet. But there's no Tyrell I can think of who's the right age."

Tywin shook his head. "The Tyrells are the heirs of stewards. Upstarts not worthy of my son. I've written to Leyton Hightower and now that a royal wedding is impossible for them, I expect there will be a reply."

"A fair portion of our southern trade goes to Oldtown, I think he'll see the benefits." Kevan scratched his chin. "And if he wants support in ousting the Tyrells from Highgarden?"

"Mace's heirs are Leyton's grandsons. It's unlikely he'd move so directly, but Tyrell influence in the upper Reach took a blow when they surrendered lands to the Baratheons. They can't afford to lose the support of the Hightowers so they'd have no choice but to permit any agreements Leyton and I negotiate."

His brother went to the window and looked south. "You're thinking beyond this generation."

"My son will be Prince of the Rock. If the Tyrells continue to weaken, the northern reach may look more towards a more powerful lord - particularly one with a wealthy and influential goodbrother in Oldtown."

"If that opportunity arises."

"If it does not then he still has a wealthy bride and a valuable alliance. More importantly our House will have alliances north and south."

"So when will Gerion return from King's Landing?"

"Seven years or so," Tywin snorted. "He boasts he made a fine showing in the tourney and King Robert invited him to join the Royal Guards."

Kevan shook his head "Couldn't he have refused?"

"Could have, should have, didn't. I can only hope he will find a bride in the east while he's there."

"I would have thought that Robert would be wary of a Lannister behind him after... well, you know."

"Our King seems fond of grand gestures... and with a Tyrell and an Arryn already on the Small Council, he had to offer something to our House. Master of Coin would have been more useful."