As Jaime and Cersei walked into the dining room, Tywin took an appraisal of his two older children. He could still remember the day they were born, red-cheeked, tufts of hair golden as the sun, eyes like four crystal clear emeralds. He and Joanna cried with joy at their birth, and he began that day making plans.

His wife had chided him. "Tywin, they are not yet a day old. There is plenty of time to think about their futures."

"The future Lord of Casterly Rock," Tywin proclaimed, his eyes beaming back to his wife. "And for you, my little girl? What future can we think up for you? A queen, perhaps?"

Joanna had still been abed, holding their son, but with Tywin sitting next to her, leaning on his pillows, she gave him a light shove. "Really, my love! I want to enjoy their childhoods. Yes, they may one day be a lord and a queen, but let them be children first!"

He agreed with the sentiment at the time, but as soon as they were old enough to walk and even babble, he began to plan in full. And he was encouraged about the direction of his plans by his friend the king, first.

Aerys had sent a gift of each child's weight in gold, a lavish gift to anyone, but Tywin took it as a sign. The king was giving him gold, and wouldn't it be appropriate for Tywin to return the gift in some way, in the future? He told his wife of his idea, but still, she waved it off. "You know the Targaryens, they rarely marry outside their own house, let alone their own children. If you must marry our children for politics, better it be among the other houses. I have heard Lady Lyarra Stark has just had a daughter and there is a son not much older. But please, Tywin, wait. Let them choose whom they wish to wed. They'll be happier for it."

So, he, at last, put those ideas aside...until his wife died, until his proposal was rejected. But that was when he had gone back to his wife's remark. She had most likely mentioned it in jest, but there was a brilliance to it. So he went about planning out his children's future, the future of Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms. He had an advantage, with Aerys' madness growing by the day. He knew many of the Lords Paramount were growing more and more leery of him, so, after consulting with Jon Arryn, he played it.

Rickard Stark was easier than he expected. Having a maester from the south got him the in with the Lord of Winterfell. He had a preliminary agreement for both Jaime and Cersei and was working on the Hoster Tully and the young Lord of the Stormlands.

Then, little by little, it got away from him. But even defeat for his alliances worked well in the end. Now, he was in a better position than he had ever planned. He had managed to place a Baratheon king on the Iron Throne and had a daughter he had planned on being crowned on the day she was born with him, to place at the side of that new ruler.

Jaime and Cersei sat on either side of him, across from each other. They were truly a mirror of each other, a perfect reflection. Not just of themselves, but of himself, of Joanna.

The servant poured a glass for each of the finest Arbor gold to be found in the cellar. He stood as he began his toast. "I feel it appropriate to that we three are here together, at this time. It is something I have long dreamed of and am beyond pleased that it has come at last," he said.

"But not all of us are here," Jaime muttered as he threw a piece of cheese in his mouth. "We are a family of four, Father, no matter how much you chose to forget it."

Tywin knew full well who he was speaking of, but ignored it by agreeing in a way. "Yes, I do wish your dear mother was here to see this crowning glory."

"'Crowning glory'. How fitting. But she was murdered by that monster," Cersei retorted, making Tywin actually wince. He had little love for his youngest, a scourge he believed the gods had sent to him for some reason, but even he was not so heartless to see the act of Tyrion's birth as a vicious crime committed against his beloved wife.

He didn't want to get into this argument with his only daughter again, so he pushed on. "I know questions have been asked over the past year as to why I have taken no side in this war. I knew it was to be a destructive one and I had no wish for it to be visited upon the Westerlands, especially the Rock. It is rash men who go to war. Those with patience will be rewarded for it, as I have. No son of the West died for madness or rashness."

"You are a man of foresight, Father," Jaime remarked snidely.

He would take the compliment, even if it were not there. "Now, we stand at the precipice of something I have long been planning."

"You're grand alliance of marriages, Father?" Cersei asked. The question caught him off-guard, even more as she continued. "Jon Arryn told Prince Rhaegar about it. How you planned on creating an interwoven family of the North, West, Storm and Riverlands, one that, should it be needed, could stand against the Targaryens."

Tywin wasn't surprised by the Lord of the Vale's attack of a conscience. It was always a risk to be taken, telling a man of such deft politics his plans. Nor was he surprised when Jaime perked up from his goblet. "What marriage alliance?"

Cersei got the first word in. "Father was angry that Aerys rejected the suit he presented for my marriage to the Crown Prince. In his anger, he began planning out who we should marry and how it could work to overthrow the Targaryen dynasty. I was going to marry dour Ned Stark, you his sister Lyanna," she said in that sweet tone that he knew was an act. "Brandon Stark was to marry Catelyn Tully, and Lysa Tully, Robert Baratheon." Now she turned and looked him directly in the eyes. "That is how you planned it, correct?"

Tywin retook his seat and matched her glare. "Yes, my daughter. That was how it was planned."

"But it didn't go on as such," Cersei stated. "Aerys named you to the Kingsguard, so you were unable to marry the little wolf bitch."

Jaime looked like he was thinking about it. "Pity. She has spirit," he remarked before taking another sip.

"Without you, Ned got Robert into your place, outmaneuvering father for her hand. And then Brandon Stark had to go off to the capital and demand of Aerys the presence of his son, who he believed had kidnapped poor, innocent Lyanna. He died because of that stupidity, leaving Ned to marry the frigid fish. A lucky break for me, at least," his daughter went on to explain. "Hoster wanted his other daughter to marry ancient Jon Arryn, leaving no one for me. Father's master plan, and he would have ended up with nothing to show for it."

"But the Gods have blessed us, after a fashion. Cersei, you once told me a mummer said you will be queen. Well, I have been speaking at length with King Robert, and he has at last agreed," Tywin announced.

Any pleasantness dropped from her face. "The Gods, Father? When have you credited them with anything?" She reached for her goblet, taking a long swig. "And why do you think I would marry that whoremongerer?" She looked from Jaime back to Tywin. "I know his reputation. He already got one bastard in the Vale and I think it unlikely he will stop there. And I will not stand for it." The cup came down with a crash.

He knew this wouldn't be easy but it was no matter. In a match of wills with his daughter, he would always win. "You will marry him, and you will give him heirs. The new dynasty to sit upon the Iron Throne will have some blood of Old Valyria, but it will be merged with the lion," he pronounced.

"I WILL NOT!" she yelled as she pushed out of the chair. Her voice was so loud, it made Jaime jump. "I was told I would be queen, but Robert Baratheon is NO KING! He is a usurper and when the armies outside take this city, his head will be upon a spike."

"Those armies have been outside the city walls for near a moon turn now. If they were to take this city, they would have done so once all their forces were marshaled. But Rhaegar Targaryen it no warrior, too caught up in fantasy and prophecy." Tywin kept his voice level to contrast the fire she was spitting out. "Robert claimed the throne by right of conquest, much like the Conqueror himself."

"But Aegon actually defeated the armies of the other kingdoms," Jaime reminded him. "He destroyed House Gardner and nearly our own noble house. He defeated House Hoare and destroyed Harrenhal for all time. And when he turned his attention, and that of his dragons, to the North, House Stark bent the knee." He waved his hand as if capping his argument.

Tywin narrowed his eyes at his firstborn son. He had never tried to be a learned man, always wanting to be out, on horseback, in the training yard. He was such a poor reader, the Lord of Casterly Rock was surprised his son knew that much. "He didn't defeat Dorne. They joined the realm, completed the Seven Kingdoms, with a marriage."

"And this is how you plan to create your empire, Father? Sell your only daughter?" Cersei questioned, her voice calm once more.

"You were the one to tell me you were seen to be a queen. I have ensured that will happen."

His golden-haired daughter straightened her spine, her defiance continuing. "Then I don't want it anymore. I asked the witch if I was going to marry the prince. Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the Silver Prince. He should be sitting on that throne now. He should be on his knees thanking you, thanking both of you for ending his father's tyranny. But he is not here." She flung her arm outward, ironically in the direction of the Dragon's Gate, where he knew the Targaryens and Starks were camped. "He's out there, amongst the houses that rebelled against his house. He sits with Jon Arryn and Ned Stark and Stannis Baratheon. Hells, even Olenna Tyrell and Oberyn Martell have taken his side! And do you know who sits beside him, Father? Who sits to his right, the place of honor, his chosen queen?"

He knew that as well. "Lyanna of House Stark," was all he said.

"Lyanna of House Stark," Cersei repeated, confirming his words. "The Whore of Winterfell, who came down from the North and somehow charmed Rhaegar into setting his wife aside for her."

"Harrenhal," Jaime piped in with. Tywin and Cersei both cocked their heads at him. What in the blazes was his son talking about? He must have understood the looks. "I once heard of a tale of a prince seeking out his father's would-be assassin, a mystery knight who defeated three others in the joust and requested that they only teach their squires about honor. The prince found the person, a woman in point of fact. And from that encounter, a love grew." With that, he merely shrugged his shoulder. "Or so the tale goes."

A parchment was thrown on the table now. "They want to entreat with you, Father. With you, and the usurper and any other fool who has seen fit to follow you." Cersei laughed, laughed long, as she stepped back from him. "My place will never be at his side. So what it my place then?"

"You place is where I say it is," Tywin told her harshly. "That is the place of any child, wherever their parent wants them. And I want you beside Robert Baratheon, as his wife, when we meet with them."

His only answer was the slamming of a door.

Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, father of Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell.

He savored those words as they played in his head, over and over again. His joy was boundless, the thought of his son. He wanted to leave immediately, make for Riverrun and see the babe and his wife.

But there was still too much at stake for him to leave now, while the fate of the realm was still in the balance. Every day that passed, he could not believe the sheer stubbornness of Robert Baratheon.

Ned had reread the letter five, six times and still could not believe it. Then he remembered hearing Lyanna's face brighten like the sun at that thought of her son and Robb, growing up together.

His thoughts of her must have drawn his little sister to his tent. He was inside, trying to compose his reply when the flap was pulled back and she stepped in. "I have come to check in on the new father," she said with a wide smile. "How is he doing?"

"I truly cannot put into words what I am feeling," he replied. HIs answer to her was effusive, so unlike his usual demeanor.

"Lord Robb Stark," she enunciated. "A good, strong name."

Now a blush rose on his cheeks. "Rhaegar is truly not upset? I could write to Catelyn, tell her of what has happened, our concerns-"

"Rhaegar is just pleased that there is some measure of happiness in these bleak times. And he was honest about what he said. There was a measure of affection for Robert to be had by him before...everything happened," she tried to reassure him. "And on the matter of names, your news has inspired he and I to decided on one for our son."

He smiled, but he knew it hadn't reached his eyes. "And what have you selected? Aegon, perhaps, after his brother?" he asked, the image of a small body enshrouded in red coming to his mind.

Ned regretted the words instantly. Lyanna's glow dimmed, and she dipped her head to prevent him from seeing the tear. Once she had recovered, she waved him off. "It is fine. A noble thought, brother, and what I was expecting. But he has chosen differently." She placed her hand on her belly. "No, we have decided that he shall be named for a king, two in fact. The future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Jaehaerys, Third of his Name." She smiled once more, a conspiratorial one she shared more with Benjen that he. "But I believe his nickname will be the one remembered. Jon, after the great King in the North."

He thought about it and signaled his approval. "And I know he will be a great king," he said.

But she didn't appear to be so sure. "If he wants to be king, at least. If he is ever able to enter the capital and claim the title. A prospect, I fear, that grows dimmer by the day, and a fate I am not certain I want for him anyway."

"Lya?" Now Ned was concerned. "What are you speaking about?"

She made a quick shake of her head. "It's nothing, dear brother. Just...the concerns of a mother for her unborn babe."

She laid her head on his shoulder. It was a gesture she rarely did, even as children. Lyanna had been the fearless one, of both man and beast. But now, she did look frightened. It was natural, he supposed.

Her gesture formed a lump in his throat. On the rare times she was afraid, Father would be the one to soothe her. Now, that thought led to another, about the tragedy of what had happened to him, to Brandon, and how it could have engulfed their family further. And he only had to see Rhaegar to know what it was like.

"I am sorry," he said.

She lifted her head, stared into his eyes. "What for, big brother?"

"For assuming the worst. For thinking of the awful things that were happening to you, and rushing to judge the prince. Those similar actions led Brandon to foolishly face Aerys. I cannot fathom what could have happened if we had gone any further, if there had been a battle at the Trident." Everything was pouring out of him now, thoughts and emotions that he had kept to himself for the last year.

"But they didn't," she reminded him. "I got to the Riverlands, got you to come see and hear what really happened. And you were smart enough to listen. I too fear how things could go sideways, how you could have battled Rhaegar, or Ser Arthur and not survived.

The mention of the Kingsguard brought his sightline to the tent where the four brothers were staying. "If I fought Ser Arthur, I do not think I would have survived." He took her hands in his, holding them tightly. "I am so sorry I ever mentioned Robert Baratheon to Father. I thought him a different man. But you were right all along."

"I am not blind to the ways of men. I have seen it enough these past few years," she said. For a moment, he didn't follow what she was saying. But then he remembered the whispers about their brother. She nodded, acknowledging what he was thinking. "I loved Brandon, but he was not dissimilar, sadly." She took their intertwined fingers and kissed them. "If things had gone differently, I would have forgiven you."

"It was never going to happen," Ned told her, "because you would only have married him if you were forced to with all the swords of the North at your back."

She laughed heartily at that. "So true. You know me too well."

It was then that Ned noticed Howland Reed approach. He had seen little of the crannogman since Lyanna had arrived at King's Landing, but he was glad the lord was here now.

Lyanna spoke first. "And where have you been keeping yourself, Lord Reed? I had hoped you'd come visit me sooner!" she chided him.

"I feel you have been rather busy, too busy to see the lord of so lowly a noble house," Howland replied.

"Nonsense! It is because of you that I am even here now as I am, a happily married woman with a child to come," Lyanna retorted.

Howland offered her a sad smile. "But at the cost it came to?" Lyanna looked remorseful at the reminder and her hand went to her belly protectively.

"You were my father's man being cruelly beaten. I was honor-bound to defend you," she said.

Howland did not look pleased by her argument but chose not to continue it. "I guess I am the vessel that brought ice and fire together. A footnote in the maesters' histories, I am sure."

Lya rolled her eyes, looking to refute his modesty when Ser Arthur Dayne approached them. "You Grace, Lord Stark. We have just received a messenger from the city. He brings Robert's reply to the missive sent with Cersei," the Dornishman explained.

"Tywin's response, you mean?" Lyanna remarked.

Ned just stood. "Lord Reed, I want to apologize. I know my sister would like to catch up with you, but I feel we are going to be needed with the Prince. If you will excuse us," he said.

Howland acknowledged him. "Of course, my lord."

Lyanna turned to leave as well, but stopped and faced Reed once more. She went to him and engulfed him in a hug. "We shall talk soon, my lord. I know Rhaegar wishes to extend his gratitude to you as well."

"You honor me, my princess." And then he was gone.

Ned was about to follow Arthur and Lyanna when he saw Howland Reed spin and watch them once more. He saw a look in the man's eyes that unsettled him. Then he remembered Lyanna mentioning Reed telling her he had come to Harrenhal originally to for a song of ice and fire. He still wasn't sure of the exact meaning, but he was sure of one thing.

Howland Reed knew much more than he was leading anyone to believe. And from the look Ned saw, the future could be in peril.