*ON-GOING (Last update: 27/10/2020)
Being the youngest child of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower had its downsides. Daella Tyrell had been locked away from the outside world ever since she could remember. Everyone was just so protective of her. And...
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"The King was dead," Lord Tywin Lannister thought as he warmed himself by the fire at the Tower of the Hand. Joffery was dead, Myrcella was shipped off to Dorne, Tommen was merely a boy, and House Lannister was on the brink of bankruptcy. He needed to think of something fast so to ensure the legacy of his house.
The Hand of the King went to his desk and began writing a letter. The room was filled with quiet scribbling and fire crackling, but it was soon disrupted by the sound of a Kingsguard's heavy armour.
"You want to see me, father?" His eldest son, Jamie spoke.
Tywin nodded, signalling him to close the door behind him. He then looked down at Jamie's right hand, which was now replaced by a golden hand, decorated with fine embellishments. He scoffed. The months that they spent working on the details of the prosthetic hand still would not change the fact that his brightest child was now a cripple.
Without looking up at Jamie, Tywin began, "You know you cannot serve in the Kingsguard without a sword hand
"I can!" Jamie interrupted his father too quickly. "And I will. Crippled or whole, a knight of the Kingsguard serves for life."
"Your sister ended that when she replaced Ser Barristan on grounds of age. We can ask the High Septon to release you from your vows."
"No. I'm the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I have a duty, a responsibility to–"
"You do." Tywin finally made eye-contact with his son. He rose from his seat and stood at the same level as Jamie. "Which is the duty to House Lannister. You are the heir to Casterly Rock, and that is where you belong. Besides, it's past time you were wed. Mace Tyrell has another daughter. You will marry her-"
"No!" Jaime had heard all that he could stand. No, more than he could stand. It was not the first time Tywin Lannister had forced marriages for his children. Jamie was sick of it. Sick of noble lords and ladies, sick of his father, sick of the whole bloody marriage business. "No. No. No. No! How many times must I say 'no' before you'll hear it?" he whined like a stubborn child.
"The girl is still a maiden," Tywin said.
"And she can die a maiden as far as I'm concerned. I don't want her! I'm a knight of the Kingsguard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard! And that's all I want to be!" Of course, the only place he wanted to be was in her sister's arms. He wanted Cersei to be his wife more than anything else. They belonged together. The Targaryens had wed brothers and sisters for centuries, yet no one seemed to bother, so why couldn't they?
The firelight gleamed golden on Lord Tywin's face. A vein was pulsed in his neck. He did not speak. Neither of them spoke for a minute. The strained silence went on and on until it was more than Jamie could endure.
"Father, please..."
"Cersei refuses to marry Ser Loras Tyrell. Your brother, Tyrion is in prison. You're the only one left who can save House Lannister from doom," Tywin said. "You're to marry Daella Tyrell and Tommen will marry Margaery. That's final. Eventually, the Tyrell's gold and Highgarden will be us for the taking." With that, he poured the crimson liquid wax onto the opening of the letter before sealing it with a proud lion sigil.
