Tywin 1 295 AC

There was a certain tranquility to combating the influence of the Prince of Dragonstone. Tywin had more than a year ago decided.

Of all the people who played the game of thrones, he was the most blatant, and arguably the most simple to understand. Rather than wading into the political morass of Westeros, he had elected to ignore it entirely, expanding power through other means. Foreign territories plundered and added to his realm, a merchant company that was swiftly consuming the competition, and all achieved using innovative technology.

It was as respectable as it was dangerous, and ensuring that the Westerlands were not unduly held in its influence was an ongoing process involving protecting his own merchants and exports, as well as trying to compete militarily.

While many of the Lord's had missed it, given that none of the boy's weapons were part of the major battles of the war. Tywin always prided himself on reading all of his spies reports meticulously, a habit reinforced by the elimination of spies who sent him poor reports.

He had read what happened at Lys, and while the Rock might still be impregnable, many of the other castles in the Westerlands would evidently be vulnerable to a cannon-armed attack.

It was the type of thing most of the back-room schemes wouldn't even consider, lacking as they were in military experience, but in his many years, his foremost goal had always been power, and power was what he saw in those reports.

It was the same type of power he wielded, and it was, therefore, a threat to his dynasty.

All of this was why he was actually seriously considering attending the Prince of Dragonstone's wedding to the Princess of Dorne, which his son in law the king had generously invited every Lord in the Seven Kingdoms too. Well, eight, he supposed, but the Narrow sea had only a few Lords yet. Another method of maintaining power for its Prince.

"You look perturbed Father, perhaps you should take a-"

"Don't finish that sentence boy." He cut his dwarf of a son off prematurely. "I am in thought, and I won't have it disrupted by your prattling."

"I must wonder why you called me here then."

Tywin turned his gaze towards his malformed spawn. It seemed that his thoughts would be disrupted after all. "I am determining whether or not I should personally attend the Wedding of the Prince of the Stepstones next month."

"Really? Well you know I would certainly be willing to go in your stead."

"I am not that much a fool, boy, lest you go sample the cities Brothels and scarce attend your duties. No, If I go you will come with me, and if I stay then you shall as well."

"Of course father. I know that you have such a fondness for me."

He glared at the wretch, before shaking his head. "No, we must go I think. All the other Great Houses are being invited. And House Lannister cannot look the fool lest the Baratheons grow stronger still."

"Joffrey is a Baratheon as well father."

"Yes, and if he wants to keep the throne then he will keep a close eye on his kin. I will not see my grandson dethroned by an over-eager cousin the moment King Robert dies."

Tyrion nodded, before turning his gaze to the great windows of his study, which let sunlight filter in from the outside of the Rock.

"I suppose you'll want a contingent of the Red Guards to go with you?"

"Yes, and both the Cleganes. I was thinking I should give one to Cersei. Probably the hound."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that."

"Quiet." He bit out, and the shrunken child cut himself off from continuing. "You, will organize our party for departure, and make arrangements to move with the Lannisport Lannisters. You have six-thousand dragons at your disposal to make it one that demonstrates our House's power, and you will not spend a penny of it on whores, or anything else of that sort."

His worthless son nodded sharply. "Yes, I… I can do that. I will see to arranging it at once."

"Good…" Tywin reclined. "Good, I have no doubt the prince himself will endeavor to outsold us, and he likely will, but it's his wedding. I want our party to be more extravagant than any other house in attendance."

"That may cost more than-"

"You have a brain on you, boy, make it work better than the rest of you."

"...yes father."

"Good. Leave now."

As his dwarfish son staggered out of the room, Tywin glanced out the windows again. The only question now was what the other Kingdom's angles would be.

The Tyrells wanted mates for their children. Especially the heir, Willas. It would be ideal to set up a marriage, but at present, he had no suitable children.

The Riverlands… well, the Tully's probably wanted more trade upriver, they would court the young conqueror, but he doubted much more than a trade agreement or some such would come of it, the Tully's were already part of a competing alliance with their blood in the North and Vale.

Dorne… ah, there was the sticking point. They wanted revenge, and we're in a far better position to take it with their marriage alliance to the Baratheons. He would have to be cautious of them, especially in the tournament. He'd have the Mountain and Hound check their armor thrice-fold before any fighting.

The Stormlands were seemingly unambitious at the moment, and ultimately unimportant, Lord Stannis was still reorganizing, and he was obviously an ally to his son.

The Iron Islands mattered even less. He doubted the Greyjoy's would even send a messenger.

The Vale and North had Tully blood, though Joffrey was in the north, so perhaps that could be a lever. If he could align himself that way then the pact would include three kingdoms, the Riverlands and likely the Crownlands in the case of a civil war. Enough to stymie the southern block now forming.

Yes… he could see it now, perhaps a marriage between Joffrey and Young Sansa, if Cersei's reports on her correspondence with the boy were true, they had taken to each other already.

That would be his course then, an alliance with the Tully block.

Every concern had to be taken to ensure Joffrey's security on the throne after all.