Unfortunately I do not own any settings or character names pertaining to A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones, although I wish I did.

Insert usual disclaimer about TVD here.

Spoilers for mention of potential future plot points (although if you've kept up on GOT you'll have an idea of where everything is headed). Read on at your own risk, and you can't say I didn't warn you.

So this was a thing that happened. Not even sorry.

"You're surely not being serious." He voices incredulously as the rest of his Small Council stare back at him with varying expressions.

Kol just looks bored, gold cloak draped artfully over his shoulders as he tips his chair back on two legs.

Marcel, his master of whispers looks slightly intrigued with this most recent development, which makes him think that this was something that even he didn't know about.

"On the contrary, I'm being deadly serious." Elijah Baratheon answers patiently. "The seven kingdoms need something to rally behind, and the fact that you're unmarried is a topic of continuous gossip with the small folk. A wedding is a perfect way to reunite the Six Kingdoms in the wake of The War for the Dawn."

"You want me to get married for a reason as insignificant as that?"

He normally took most of Elijah's advice on board. As his Hand, Elijah was the second most powerful man in this room, and in the six kingdoms of Westeros. But even Elijah it seemed had gone absolutely insane.

Elijah sighs, as if he'd almost been expecting this sort of reaction.

"My Grace, although you yourself loathe to admit it, you're in an incredibly precarious position at the moment. Yes, you are a Lannister, and it has been your gold that has helped to rebuild the six kingdoms after the War of the Five Kings and then the invasion from The Others. But you need a child to solidify your hold on the Iron Throne, and for that you need to take a wife."

"And I suppose you already have somebody in mind?" He sneers towards Elijah, who lets out a sigh, the only sign that he's frustrated with the turn that this conversation has taken.

"Yes I do. I believe that Caroline Tyrell would be a suitable candidate for Queen."

"A Tyrell of Highgarden?" Marcel finally interjects, and he throws his oldest friend a grateful look. "They were the last to call their banners for The War of the Dawn. Why should we reward them with a position as honourable as this?"

Elijah turns that calm gaze of his on Marcel, like he'd been anticipating this sort of question.

"The Tyrell's may have been the last to declare but you can't deny that their contribution was invaluable. They bolstered our numbers at a time when it was desperately needed, and they kept our army fed. As I'm sure you're aware the Lannister gold is dwindling, and it's certainly not going to last forever. I am reluctant to ask for a loan from the Iron Bank, and the Tyrell's will provide some much needed funds for our coffers."

"You want me to marry a Tyrell for their wealth? Are you insinuating that I would exhibit that sort of desperation?" He asks of Elijah somewhat incredulously.

"If you wish to remain the ruler of the six kingdoms your grace, I fear you may have no choice."

He holds up a gloved hand for silence, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface of the table. As much as he is loathe to admit it, he can see the genius in Elijah's plan, even if he wasn't particularly enthused by it.

At 25 years of age, even he'd heard the whispers of the small folk concerning his lack of wife and heir. It was high time that he begin to seek out a suitable match from an advantageous family.

Although, the argument could also be made that he had more important things to worry about than marrying and producing an heir. The invasion of The Others had torn the six kingdoms to pieces, and although his grandfather, Tyrion Lannister had contributed a great deal towards brokering the peace between the regions of Westeros, there was still a great deal to be done.

Entire families had been torn apart, taken to opposite ends of the kingdoms. Houses needed to be rebuilt, there was soil to be tilled, crops to be sown and grown with the coming spring. Half of Kings Landing had been burnt to the ground by Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons before she was convinced to head North to aid the war effort, and although almost 70 years had past since that fateful day, Kings Landing was still a shell of what it once was.

"I'm not familiar with this generation of the Tyrell family. Summon them to court. If I'm going to marry this girl I'd at least like to have some sort of idea of what I'm getting into."

Elijah sketches him a respectful bow, sweeping his stack of parchment towards him.

"I'll make all the necessary arrangements Your Grace."

Kol gets to his feet, running a hand through messy brown hair before scooping his helm from the table.

"I'd best go and drill the men. The latest bunch of recruits are appalling." He remarks with an exasperated sigh.

"That's comforting to know." He says to Kol teasingly. The Kingsguard were a necessary evil, even though he was more than capable of defending himself against any threats.

His grandfather had been sure to safeguard his future by sending the best swordsmen and archers to Casterly Rock where he'd been brought up as a young boy. When his father had died in a hunting accident when he was just 17 years old, he'd been brought to Kings Landing, where his grandfather had ruled until he had reached his 18th name day.

Marcel waits until Kol and the rest of the Small Council had left the room before he heads straight to the sidebar, plucking a skin of Dornish wine and pouring out two goblets.

"You seem troubled my friend. Are you not looking forward to having a pretty maid warm your bed for you?" Marcel says with a chuckle, tipping back his goblet.

"Not if said pretty maid is a Tyrell." He sips at his own goblet, savouring the taste of the Dornish grape, something that is proving harder to come by in recent times. "What can you tell me about her?" He adds grudgingly as Marcel's smile widens if at all possible.

"Caroline Tyrell." Marcel drawls with a lazy smile on her face. "Apparently she's the most beautiful maid in all of the six kingdoms, seven if we include Winterfell and the North."

"So she's a pretty face? She'll do well enough." He allows grudgingly as Marcel smirks at him.

"I wouldn't underestimate her Your Grace. She's the granddaughter of Margaery Tyrell. You know your history, Margaery Tyrell is the only woman who went up against Cersei Lannister in the Game of Thrones and lived to tell the tale. You can bet more than a few gold dragons that she's passed that tenacity to her grand daughter."

"So she's a pretty face and a calculating mind, which is exactly what I don't need at the moment." He amends his previous statement slightly.

"Just give her a chance. You might find that she surprises you."

"You're fidgeting." Kol says amusedly from his spot slightly to the left of the Iron Throne. "Are you nervous?"

"I am not." He replies immediately, as the chattering of his court around him continues on. He tries to sit back in the Iron Throne and immediately regrets it, getting a jab from one of the many sharp edges melted down to form the uncomfortable seat.

He'd considered destroying it after everything that had happened before he'd become King, but it seemed almost wrong to destroy such an important piece of Westerosi history, not to mention Elijah would probably find a way to murder him and make it look like an accident.

"You are." Kol insists, voice barely above a murmur. "Oh this is fantastic."

"Say another word and I'll have your tongue ripped out." He replies lightly, his tone belying the treat behind his words.

He'd never treat Kol in such a way considering they were family.

"You're no fun." Kol grumbles as the Herald taps his staff against the stone floor.

"The Lord William Tyrell of Highgarden, and his daughter, the Lady Caroline Tyrell."

He straightens slightly as the crowd parts before him, and he's allowed his first glimpse at the Lady Caroline.

Marcel was right, she was beautiful. Her hair a sunshine blonde, her eyes a piercing blue, she doesn't bother dropping her gaze, instead looks right at him, allows her gaze to pass right over him like he's just part of the tapestry behind him, like he isn't the rightful King of Westeros.

Her casual dismissal, her indifference makes his blood boil as she looks around at his Court with barely concealed disinterest.

"Lord Tyrell." He lets his voice carry through the hall, the crowds lining the edges of the great space immediately falling silent. "How good of you to finally grace us with your presence." He adds smoothly, as the older man has the good sense to look slightly ashamed at the time it had taken for him to reply to his summons.

"Forgive me Your Grace. There were certain affairs that had to be put in order at Highgarden before my daughter and I could make the journey to Kings Landing. We are honoured by your invitation. Aren't we Caroline?" William asks, turning to his daughter who turns her gaze upon him once more.

Her gaze is unsettling, like she can unmake him, see right through to his core and see exactly what sort of ruler and man he is. And from the look on her face she doesn't seem to much like what she sees.

"It is an honour Your Grace." She supplies, sinking into a graceful curtsey.

The ladies of the court immediately break into whispers, no doubt dissecting her appearance and the fine cut of her gown and the way that she'd treated their king.

He'd already had enough of it.

"You must be both weary from your travels. Perhaps it would be best if you rest before joining us for dinner tonight."

He waves a servant forward, and Caroline looks less than impressed by his show of power. Nevertheless, she allows herself and her father to be led away, and it's only once the doors to the Hall have closed behind them that he slumps back into his seat, sharp edges of the Iron Throne be damned.

There was no way that he could do this.

AN: So this is the Tyrell/Lannister AU that I said I was going to write. Yes, this first chapter is extremely short, yes the other chapters will be longer, and this is probably going to span more than three chapters. Sigh.

Why do things never go to plan?

So some plot points here. Klaus is the grandson of Tyrion Lannister, Caroline, the granddaughter of Margaery Tyrell. Winterfell and the North broke off from the rest of the six kingdoms after The War of the Dawn, and there is some serious rebuilding that needs to be done.

Klaus and Caroline will butt heads, but they're also pretty much betrothed so there'll be some tension there as well.

See you on the other side!