If things stay 'on-track' - and I really, really think that there's good reason to doubt they will once we go all Mark Twain-1632-Back To The Future-ju jitsu all over Westeros' face - then Jaime will still refuse to become the head of his house as he'll remain Lord-Commander of the Kingsguard. Kevan has the best chance of ending up as Lord of Casterly Rock (I assume), but the Lannister who holds the most influence in the wake of Tywin's death is Cersei, the crazy incompetent bitch. I'd rather spend the 5 years hiding out as a surprisingly tall and well-inoculated dishwasher in the Arbor than try to play power-games with her as my mistress. (And since she becomes queen about three years in (I think?), ie, by the time that rifles will be coming into production, she might just be able to use those to put the Tyrells under her crazy-ass thumbs and remain in power).
The thing to remember is that this isn't an SD.Net in LotR power-play. We're only there for 5 years, tops, and the only goal is to not come home with the memory of getting hung, flayed, drawn, quartered, stabbed, decapitated, defenestrated, burned, maimed, starved, or infected. Somehow, consorting with the most ruthless, murderous house that's balls-deep in the coming civil war and is filled with fucking insane people whose fates include happy endings like being imprisoned, crossbowed, fed to a bear, poisoned, poisoned and raised as a zombie monster, poisoned and rendered a lame monk, de-handed, de-eared, de-nosed and tried for regicide, etcetera, doesn't seem like the smartest way to get out alive.
This is why the Martells are really the best option, now that I think about it. It's a sleepy kingdom far from any of the current conflicts, where I can gain comfort and luxury from the Prince without causing too many ripples outside of Dorne. Doran's schemes are of the very slow-burning variety, and he himself is reasonable and genteel. Only, like, one person has died in all of Dorne so far in all of the books (this is a very important point for me), and he has a power-base and a use for me. And there are delicious blood oranges, which makes it an easy sell. Maybe I can wheedle some very minor land-holdings and a lordship out of the deal I make with him, whereupon I will retire to my tiny castle somewhere in the Dornish highlands and wait the whole dance with dragons out while I eat my figs and blood oranges and live like Howard Hughes, if Howard Hughes had sex with the most disease-free commonfolk from time to time because he was living in a high fantasy storybook and that made him lonely and creepy and weird.
The thing to remember is that this isn't an SD.Net in LotR power-play. We're only there for 5 years, tops, and the only goal is to not come home with the memory of getting hung, flayed, drawn, quartered, stabbed, decapitated, defenestrated, burned, maimed, starved, or infected. Somehow, consorting with the most ruthless, murderous house that's balls-deep in the coming civil war and is filled with fucking insane people whose fates include happy endings like being imprisoned, crossbowed, fed to a bear, poisoned, poisoned and raised as a zombie monster, poisoned and rendered a lame monk, de-handed, de-eared, de-nosed and tried for regicide, etcetera, doesn't seem like the smartest way to get out alive.
This is why the Martells are really the best option, now that I think about it. It's a sleepy kingdom far from any of the current conflicts, where I can gain comfort and luxury from the Prince without causing too many ripples outside of Dorne. Doran's schemes are of the very slow-burning variety, and he himself is reasonable and genteel. Only, like, one person has died in all of Dorne so far in all of the books (this is a very important point for me), and he has a power-base and a use for me. And there are delicious blood oranges, which makes it an easy sell. Maybe I can wheedle some very minor land-holdings and a lordship out of the deal I make with him, whereupon I will retire to my tiny castle somewhere in the Dornish highlands and wait the whole dance with dragons out while I eat my figs and blood oranges and live like Howard Hughes, if Howard Hughes had sex with the most disease-free commonfolk from time to time because he was living in a high fantasy storybook and that made him lonely and creepy and weird.
