Being the daughter of the Mad King meant powerlessness. Powerlessness and guilt before her people. For the fear of her father and brother. For the pain of your people. For the fact that you could do nothing to stop your father's cruelty and the deaths of innocents in the path of the Mad King's madness.

You hated being a Dragon, unlike your older brother who, by all precepts of the past, called himself ‘Dragon’. When the rebellion organised by the three clans of Westeros broke out, you watched with sadness the deaths of innocents who had shed blood for your family out of duty, not loyalty, when even your father's personal knight stood up to him and stabbed Aerys in the back.

You were not surprised, knowing Tywin's guile and his influence over his son. You realised that from now on each of these vultures would claim the Dragon family's wealth, which was already too small. And no one was surprised that your brother ran away like a coward, taking your older sister with him, but they were surprised that you stayed, calmly stepped out from behind the great throne, and stood before the eyes of the postans with your head held high and proud, unafraid.

"Princess" Tywin's voice cuts through the silence and he takes a couple of steps forward, with a wave of his hand stopping Robert, who has already drawn his sword to cut short the life of the remaining Dragon. "Didn't run away. Is that foolishness or courage?"

You only lift your chin stubbornly, glaring at him defiantly. "I am not my brother, who spit on his own people and ran away like a coward." You do not recoil when the elder Lannister circles you like a predator

"You will give us easier access to the throne. A member of the royal family left under one of the rebellion's victors will force the people to accept that the power has shifted" Tywin raises his hand sharply to your cheek, tracing a finger imperiously down your cheekbone. "You will marry one of the men present, Princess. And you will not try to escape."