Aerys choked on a mouthful of absolutely delicious hypocras, spilling some of the spiced wine on himself. He coughed violently a few times, presumably in order to rid his throat of the excess liquid. Then he looked at Tywin with what might be termed extreme fury. "What did you just say?" he bellowed.
"Your Majesty," Tywin started, selecting a piece of parchment which he presented to his King, "the obvious benefits of pairing His Grace your eldest son and my daughter are irrefutable. Consider only the beautiful children."
"How dare you?" Aerys grimaced. He tried to stand up, but the edge of his robe caught in one of the throne's spikes and pierced his flesh. But the man was not to be deterred. "This odious bond that you aspire to shall never come to fruition. Never."
"But-" Tywin attempted to interrupt only to be favoured with a venomous glare.
"Never!" the Mad King proclaimed. "Now kindly cease robbing me of oxygen and be gone. And tag your idiocies!"
Who had heard of a bigger atrocity than that? His son and Tywin's daughter; it would never happen, not as long as Aerys still drew breath. Tywin had had robbed Aerys of the pleasure of a relationship once. By the Seven, history would not repeat itself.