Jaime has simple desires. He wants to be allowed to curl up in the library with a nice book, hang out with his family without them trying to kill each other, and relax while shooting his favorite bow. Unfortunately, Jaime is not only a Lannister but also has to deal with the massive horde of ice zombies coming to blanket the world in Winter. Can a boy from our world learn how to play the Game of Thrones well enough to not only decide his own fate, but also the fate of the entire world.
Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister (281AC)
Casterly rock is massive.
The ancient seat of the golden lions of Westeros. The castle, if it could even be called such, stood thrice as tall as the Wall and stretched two leagues from west to east. A mountain slowly carved into over thousands of years until it became almost a city unto itself. Intellectually, I knew all of this. I had it drilled into me after I was reborn here as a four-year-old Jaime Lannister. Still, that did not dull the annoyance of walking twenty minutes to my father's private dining chamber just to have a meeting.
The thought of Tywin Lannister sent my mind spiraling for the fifth time today, and I palmed the vial in my pocket for reassurance. The fact that the man had resigned as Hand and come home early without me being assigned to the Kingsguard just showed how much my limited knowledge of the future could be relied upon.
It might seem insignificant, but his arrival threw a wrench into most of my ongoing plans. Two months into my time at the Rock, I had just started to exert my influence and grow my reputation. Spending a large portion of my formative years squiring under Baelor Hightower in Oldtown put me largely outside the public consciousness of the Westerlands.
My reputation as the genius Heir of house Lannister and fortunate knighting by Ser Arthur Dayne in the campaign against the Kingswood Brotherhood gave me a base upon which to build. But I knew that would mean little when Tywin spoke to my uncle Kevan about some of the plans I had started implementing.
All this wasn't to imply that I hated Tywin Lannister. He had been a largely absentee parent during my early years, spending most of his time as the Hand in King's Landing. But I could never bring myself to truly hate him.
I acknowledged the fact that he is a hard and horrible person with little empathy for anyone other than his family. Even then, his care only truly extends to how they could bring greater influence to house Lannister in the future. He treats my brother like a weed and blames the kid for killing Mother…
All of this is true, yet I can't stop respecting the man. My job would be much harder if he hadn't almost single-handedly pulled the Lannisters back to prominence. He also has a genuinely brilliant mind and is virtually unmatched in the Game we lords play. Almost everything I know about politics came from him.
I almost wish I could hate the man because it would make everything much easier.
Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister
Even sitting in his private dining chamber and getting ready to dine with his Heir, Tywin Lannister couldn't escape his ever-present work. In the flickering orange light of the oil lamps spread throughout the room, the old lion carefully sorted through the many reports he received from his brother. The man made a fine Castellan, though he usually dealt better with more martial matters.
In fact, just recently, Ser Kevan had taken a force of men from the castle to take care of a particularly large group of brigands harassing travelers on the Gold Road. Tywin approved of the act in theory. It was beneficial to demonstrate the force their house could project on a whim. Unfortunately, it was a rather poor time for his Castellan to leave the Rock, and by the time Tywin had received the raven, his brother had already departed.
It was such a poor time that the old lion had been forced to plead illness and resign as Hand of the King to return to his seat at the Rock. Not that he hadn't been fishing for a reason to bow out of the position ever since his once friend had gone mad. Still, with Kevan gone, the leadership of the Rock fell to the recently returned heir.
It wasn't that he distrusted Jaime; in fact, it was quite the opposite. From all the reports he had received, the boy had matured well in Oldtown. But young boys fresh off knighting can often be somewhat reckless and headstrong. Both words that described the boy he knew rather well and the reports he was reading seem to validate his decision.
*Clang*
The sound of metal hitting the floor outside drew his attention away from the work before him. Tywin listened carefully for a moment before the panicked whisper of voices had him conclude it was likely just a servant who had dropped a plate.
Eventually, the door was pushed open, and a serving girl walked in, closely followed by his son. Tywin had met with Jaime briefly when he arrived a few days ago, but now he took the time to truly examine his heir.
It had been almost a year since their last meeting, and Jaime certainly looked the part of a Lannister. The boy of 15 name days now looked taller than a man full grown. His body was lithe like only a youth could be. Still, the old lion's experienced eye could see the muscles developed from years of training under the boy's red and gold attire.
Jaime would almost look like the perfect future lord if he wasn't carrying the wine tray usually brought to him by the servants.
"Before you say anything, father, I ran into her." His son's voice echoed through the cave-like room. He set the tray down on the table and served the Arbor Vintage to Tywin. "I had too much on my mind and did not look where I was going."
Tywin sighed before choosing his words carefully. "Fault is of no significance in this situation, my son." It seems like no matter how mature the boy is, he still has things to learn. "It is unbecoming of a Lannister to be seen carrying a serving tray. You must remember to not let your insistence on respecting the smallfolk interfere with upholding our house's reputation." He turned his gaze to the serving girl, who was shaking like a leaf in a storm.
"Of course, Father, it won't happen again," Jaime said as he sat down in his seat. Truly, the boy was blessed with intelligence. Still, Tywin sometimes thought he lacked the ruthless cunning necessary to play the Game.
Dismissing the serving girl, the old lion barely registered the look of fright on the girl's face before he turned back to begin the meal with his son.
The meal was standard fare, though the conversation was much more varied. As the two Lannisters enjoyed their food and wine, they largely kept to lighter topics. Tywin asked about the boy's knighting even though he had already heard the story countless times from others in the King's court. Jaime wisely avoided the topic of the lion's strained relationship with the King and asked after his sister.
Unfortunately, it was bad news on that front. Aerys, the fool, had been paranoid ever since Duskendale that Tywin hoped to betray him. This meant the King felt unsafe letting the lion prowl free without insurance. This came in the form of "politely" telling him that even if he was leaving, Cersei was to remain the lady in waiting for the princess.
Tywin thought it was unfortunate, but the news disturbed Jaime greatly. The lad always had a soft spot for his sister.
"Unfortunate as that news is, it was not why I invited you to dine with me tonight." That seemed to pull Jaime back into the moment. Tywin could already see his son tense up as if ready for a fight. "I have been reviewing the household reports given by both your uncle Kevan and you while he has been away."
Clearing his throat, Tywin took another sip of wine. "Don't think I don't see what you're doing."
Tywin let the silence continue as his heir tried to show no reaction to his words. It was quite an admirable attempt. Maybe after a decade or two, he would be ready to play the Game for real. Though it would seem he would have to spell it out to the boy first.
"You come home down the Gold Road with tales of organized banditry, knowing your uncle would leap at the chance to ride out. Conveniently leaving you as the most powerful Lannister at the Rock." The boy's reports were well written, probably courtesy of his time at the Citadel, but he had tried to play his hand too early. "Kevan already noted your meetings with the goldsmiths, and I have other sources for reporting on movements within the castle." Talks with the master miners, sending out men at arms for a census of educated smallfolk in Lannisport, and talks with the septons. It seemed Jaime did not lack the ambition of most young leaders.
The boy looked rather resigned as he listened to his father's words. "I suppose I was trying to move things along rather quickly." He sighed. "I presume you would like to be informed of my plans in the future?"
The look Tywin gave the boy was enough for him to start talking.
"I realized I couldn't persuade you to back a Golden Bank with the gold from Casterly Rock, so I planned to get a few Goldsmithing Guilds to back the idea with their deposits while using my power to help them along."
The old lion took all this in and emptied his empty cup before sighing. The boy had truly never given this idea up? "Jaime, you are my heir and will rule in my place one day. But before that, you must eliminate that fanciful idea your sister put in your head when you were young."
"Father, I know you don't like lending out Lannister gold, but you must reali-"
"No." Tywin stared back into his son's defiant eyes. "What you must realize is that I carefully regulate what comes out of our mines and coffers every year. Changes in that flow threaten to destabilize the cost of goods and the fabric of the realm's currency."
Jaime rubbed something on his belt, and Tywin realized it was the yellow-gold chain link he forged at the Citadel. That at least seemed to calm him down. "I understand that, father, but we can reduce the risks in many ways. Using the loans to invest in further production and using our position of power to buy up surplus and control the price, just to name a few."
A decent argument, at least he had put more effort into it this time. "And all of this is possible with the gold stores of a few Smithing Guilds? And did those guilds seem enthused by the opportunity you provided them?" Of course not. Jaime was asking for too much. "I respect the Maesters, and I know you do too, but the talk of merchants and Bravossi traders have nothing on the wisdom gained from thousands of years managing the west."
Tywin reached up to adjust his jaw. It was starting to hurt. "My father thought the same, that if the lords and smallfolk just had some more gold, they could be better than they were." Jaime looked angry at the comparison. He had always hated being compared to Tytos. "But we all know he was a fool, and that is all I'm going to say on the matter tonight."
The boy almost looked like he wanted to continue the discussion before he decided to drop it. "Very well, father."
Good Tywin was starting to feel the fatigue from a full day of managing the Rock. "One more thing, were the bandits actually more organized than usual, or was that just a ploy to get Kevan out of the castle?" He was genuinely curious.
"Of course, it was true." Jaime almost seemed offended. He might think otherwise.
"Good, then. In addition to stopping your ridiculous plan, I charge you with telling him what you did and why. As the aggrieved party, he will decide the rest of your punishment." With those parting words, Tywin dismissed his son and watched as the boy got up and left the room.
At least now, he had completed all of his tasks for today. For a moment, Tywin considered resting for the night. He was rather tired. But the thought of what awaited in his room tonight gave him the strength to rise and make for his bedchambers.
Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister
Footing. Posture. Grip. Breath… Acceptable
I carefully drew back the string of my bow, taking note of how the muscles in my back moved with the action. Slowly, I started to feel the strain on said muscles while I kept the bow as still as possible. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5…
After five seconds, I opened my eyes to check my stance in the nearby mirror. My reflection was crystal clear, and I used it to correct some minor mistakes my eyes found. I was trying to ingrain the perfect stance to muscle memory because, as I found out in the Kingswood, you won't have time to think about your form in a real fight.
The muscles in my back were starting to burn-
"M'lord!" A panicked voice yelled from outside my chamber door.
Startling briefly, I took a deep breath and slowly relaxed my draw to avoid dry-firing the bow. It sounded quite urgent, so I set my bow down and made my way to answer the door.
"Yes?" I asked, wondering if it was time.
"It's your lord father, M'lord, he's collapsed!"
~~~
I rushed past splendid golden decorations on my way to Tywin's private bedchamber. Already, I had been joined by Vylarr and three other Lannister guardsmen in their full red-gold armor. Vylarr was a few years older than me and was appointed by my uncle as head of my personal guard. I had made it a point to get to know him over the past months.
"What did you learn?" I had sent him off to get me the gist of the situation.
"It seems your lord father collapsed in bed whilst enjoying himself with some whores, M'lord. The guards say he no longer takes breath." He stated rather matter-of-factly. That was part of what I liked about him. Most people would try to soften the blow to avoid hurting either mine or Tywin's pride.
"Has anyone sent for Maester Creylen?"
"I would assume so, but just in case, I sent a servant off to check."
"Good man." Just as we reached the door, I watched as two terrified whores were being corralled into a corner by more guardsmen. I usually preferred not to think about my father's proclivities, so I ignored how they reminded me disturbingly of my mother.
"Halt!" Everyone turned to look at the sound of my voice. I squared my back and tried to project confidence. "I wish to be apprised of the situation."
"Milord!" The nearest guard recognized me, but his helmet prevented me from doing the same. He turned and pointed his spear threateningly at the two women. "These whores were the only ones in the room when Lord Tywin collapsed!"
I looked around and noticed that another group of guards was approaching. A flash of blond hair told me it was probably one of my uncles. I would need to get this situation under control quickly.
"Leave them alone! I will wait for the Maester's word on the cause of death before accusing anyone of a crime. In the meantime, I want to know where the rest of my family is and if they are being properly guarded." I gestured to two of them, and they scrambled away to complete my orders.
Jaime!" I turned to see my uncle Gerion walking towards me, surrounded by guards. "What is this I hear about my brother?"
After quickly explaining the situation to the man, we worked together to control the situation. Gerion had little love for Tywin and was notoriously unreliable in most matters, but at least he knew now was the time to get serious. Orders were given, the room was checked thoroughly, and the old lion was laid on the bed after the sheets were stripped.
While waiting for the Maester, I let Gerion arrange a rider to contact Kevan. I took the chance to examine the body and used the knowledge I gained from forging a silver link to try and determine a cause of death. Well, that's what it looked like. In reality, I already knew that it would look like he died of a heart attack. What I was truly looking for was any sign that might point to the truth.
After finding nothing especially incriminating, I silently thanked the Essosi trader in Oldtown. It would seem my dear father fell to an unfortunate fate most similar to his own father. If only he hadn't decided to travel and work so hard right after having an unfortunate bout of illness at the capital.
Aloha, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my asoiaf story! This world is massive and quite intimidating, but I hope I represented it fairly well. I also wanted to lay out a few things that might be slight spoilers for the future story.
1. Jaime's full plan will be better explained in the next chapter.
2. There will probably be less action in this story because I wanted to try and include more politics and governing.
3. This is not a technological uplift fic. Jaime doesn't remember how to make gunpowder or anything like that. But I do plan on both economics and politics being important to the story and hope his plans come off as logical for an educated man in Westeros with a modern mindset.