Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 23: Marriage Proposal Rejected

…

Joanna Lannister POV 

Several days later

I sat in the gardens perched atop Casterly Rock, the cool breeze stirring the leaves around us. The view from here was breathtaking, with the glittering sea stretching far beyond Lannisport, but the tension in the air kept me grounded. 

My husband, Tywin, was in the midst of discussing marriage prospects with my dear friend, Nymeria, Princess of Dorne.

I had been the one to arrange this meeting. When I mentioned it to Tywin, he had been less than pleased, and even now, as the talks proceeded, his displeasure was evident. His jaw was tight, and his words held a certain sharpness.

"So you are proposing a match between one of my children and one of yours?" Tywin's voice was stern, his eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded Nymeria. 

He did not like the idea, and he made no attempt to hide it.

Nymeria, as always, remained unfazed. She leaned back slightly in her chair, the picture of calm as she responded, "Yes. I propose either pairing your son Jaime with my daughter Elia or your daughter Cersei with my son Oberyn." Her tone was light, almost carefree, despite the gravity of the proposal. The steely gaze of my husband did little to rattle her.

Sensing the growing tension, I interjected with a smile. "Let's discuss the dowry, shall we?" I suggested. The topic of dowries often lightened the mood, as Tywin always considered the advantages to our house with great care.

"For Elia's dowry, Dorne is willing to offer one hundred thousand golden dragons, a hundred Dornish horses, and, with this marriage pact, the promise of an alliance," Nymeria said, laying out an impressive offer. 

It was clear she held her daughter's future dear and was willing to provide for her happiness. "Now, I would be interested to hear what you propose for Cersei."

I was momentarily taken aback by the offer, as it was significantly more than what my father had given for my own marriage to Tywin. 

My dowry had been a mere thousand golden dragons, but our marriage had been for love, and Tywin had cared little for the wealth that accompanied me. He could have married someone far richer, but he had chosen me, and that thought brought a small smile to my lips.

But Tywin was not moved by Nymeria's generosity. His voice was cold and final as he responded, "I reject your dowry for Elia and Jaime. And as for my daughter, I will not marry her to a fourth son."

His tone left no room for negotiation, and I knew that he had been set on rejecting the Martells the moment he heard of their proposal. I had only managed to convince him to hear them out, as outright refusing a princess of Dorne would have been a grave insult.

"This marriage talk is over. I will not entertain it further," Tywin declared, rising from his seat with a finality that signaled the end of the discussion. His gaze hardened as he looked down at Nymeria, a silent challenge in his eyes. He wanted to make sure she understood that his decision was absolute.

Nymeria, to her credit, remained composed. She simply shrugged, as though the rejection meant little to her. "Well, it seems that my daughter and son will remain without betrothals, at least for now," she said lightly, her calm demeanor never faltering.

Tywin gave her a curt nod before turning his gaze to me. "I'll leave you to your conversation, my love," he said, his voice softening ever so slightly for me. He trusted me to handle this as diplomatically as possible.

"Alright my love," I replied sincerely, wanting to catch up with my old friend.

With that, Tywin left the garden, his presence still looming even as he disappeared from view. As soon as he was gone, Nymeria chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"Your husband is as stubborn as ever, I see," she said with a smile.

I sighed, nodding. "Yes, but I had hoped he might consider the offer, if only for the sake of our families."

Nymeria leaned in slightly. "He's a hard man to sway, but I can't say I'm surprised. Still, it was worth a try."

"Now that the marriage has been rejected, what are your plans?" I asked, curious about what my friend intended to do next.

Nymeria smiled, her carefree demeanor unwavering. "Well, I've quite taken a liking to Lannisport, and I hear there's a tourney less than a moon from now. I don't mind staying," she said with a lighthearted laugh.

I tilted my head in confusion. "You've taken a liking to Lannisport? Why?" In truth, I hadn't paid much attention to the city of late. My focus had been elsewhere—on my family, especially since my recent pregnancy. My world had become smaller, confined to the halls of Casterly Rock.

Nymeria's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, you haven't visited the so-called fast food market stalls, have you?"

I blinked in surprise. "No, I haven't. For the last moon, I've been cooped up in Casterly Rock because of my pregnancy with Tyrion," I said, my voice softening at the mention of my newborn son.

Nymeria gave me a knowing nod, understanding the trials of motherhood. She had borne her own children, and we had often spoken of the challenges we faced during those times.

"Well, where should I begin?" Nymeria mused, tapping her fingers thoughtfully.

With an animated gleam in her eyes, she began to describe the wonders she had discovered in Lannisport. "There's this place called LFC that serves something called fried chicken. It's crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, seasoned to perfection. Then there's HK, where they make these things called hamburgers—juicy meat patties sandwiched between soft bread, topped with cheese and sauces that melt in your mouth. Oh, and don't get me started on the hot dogs and the pizzas! The Westerman fries are something you have to try as well, golden and crisp, with just the right amount of salt."

As she spoke, I could hardly believe my ears. Fried chicken? Hamburgers? These were foods I had never heard of, let alone tasted. My mouth watered at the thought, my imagination running wild with Nymeria's vivid descriptions.

"I've never heard of such foods," I admitted, suddenly feeling as though I'd missed out on an entire world beyond the walls of Casterly Rock. "They sound delicious."

"They are," Nymeria said with a grin. "Trust me, you'll want to visit Lannisport soon and try them yourself."

A spark of excitement stirred within me. It had been so long since I had ventured beyond these walls, so long since I had experienced something new. Perhaps, once I was fully recovered from Tyrion's birth, I would make that trip to Lannisport and see what all the fuss was about.

…

Tywin POV

I sat in my solar, the dim glow of a single candle flickering before me as I sifted through the mountain of letters on my desk. My mind, however, wasn't on the parchment in front of me but on the meeting I had just left. 

Rejecting the Martells had been inevitable. It wasn't that Nymeria's offer lacked thought—Dorne was a fine region, but it held no value to me, not in the grand scheme of things. My son, Jaime, deserved a far better match than what she proposed.

Dorne. The word itself tasted bitter. Far too distant, far too wild. No, Jaime must marry someone from a house that would elevate ours to even greater heights, not tie us to a place on the fringes of the realm. 

The Riverlands, or better yet, the Reach—those were the places where alliances could be made to strengthen the legacy of House Lannister.

And then there was Cersei. I have always known what must be done for her. She is meant to sit on the Iron Throne, by Prince Rhaegar's side.

A Martell match for her would be nothing more than a wasted opportunity, an insult to her value—and mine. Her only purpose, the only one that matters, is to see her married to the heir of the throne. Nothing less.

I glance at the letter from the king, rejecting the invitation to the tourney I've planned in honor of Tyrion's birth. The rejection sits like a stone in my chest, heavier than it should. 

I've served Aerys for years, built the crown's wealth back from near ruin, secured peace in a kingdom that should have collapsed under his erratic rule. And yet, this is the thanks I receive. He won't even deign to come to Casterly Rock for a tourney, to celebrate the birth of my son.

Ungrateful fool.

But, despite the insult, there's one bright spot: Rhaegar is coming. Prince Rhaegar, the true future of the realm. With him and several of the Kingsguard attending, I know there's an opportunity here, one that Aerys can't see, blinded as he is by his jealousy. 

I'll make sure that Rhaegar and Cersei find themselves together, that the prince notices her. I'll have them spend time together. 

Let Aerys stay in King's Landing, wrapped in his paranoia, I think bitterly. I've long since stopped caring about his approval. It's Rhaegar who matters now. He's the future, and Cersei will be his queen.

Still, I can't entirely ignore the sting of Aerys' absence. I've done everything for him—for the realm, really—and this is how he repays me? Refusing to attend the tourney at Casterly Rock, after all I've done for his crown? 

My hand clenches around the letter, crumpling it slightly. But I won't waste my anger. I'll channel it, as I always have. When the time comes, when Rhaegar rules, I'll make sure Aerys sees exactly how little he mattered in the end. It will be me and my house that reigns supreme.

I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming against the desk. The future is clear to me. House Lannister will rise, not through petty alliances with far-flung houses, but by marrying into the Targaryens themselves. Jaime will find a worthy match in due time. And as for Cersei… she will be queen.

Aerys may insult me now, but soon enough, it won't matter. It will be Rhaegar who rules. And with him, the lions of Casterly Rock will sit beside the dragons of King's Landing.

…