The Black Lion grows stronger from winter and reaches the garden

DURRANDON'S POV

So, after filling my days administrating the foundations of my forces, the first two months following the end of winter had finally passed.

And I had to say, safe for the occasional setback with logistics of raising an army of elite soldiers and breakthroughs on my titles levels that weren't worth any new feature, they were mostly uneventful.

However, since I was too young to be taken seriously by the masses and noble lords, I had decided to assign both Tygett and Gerion specifically to represent my will and earn some credit to their names in return.

Speaking of the laughing Lion, in the same fashion, I had Gerion guide me through simple lessons of actually sailing and commanding a crew, incidentally laying the foundations of my Marines and Navy Fleet.

"Granduncle, would you kindly inform me of everything that is worth mentioning about your progress? Grandfather has been expecting a full report of our situation." I requested Tygett, the one I've left in charge of training and commanding the soldiers of my Royal Legion.

"Yes, my prince." He replied ever so dutifully, still insisting on treating me with all the proper respect someone of my position deserved, before immediately recollecting every piece of information in a militaristic fashion. "The Royal Legion was called upon often enough, but our errands up to this point have generally consisted of little more than hunting down bandits, rogue lawbreakers and the occasional band of outlaws."

Tyrion joined us, alongside Daven, immediately sharing his personal understanding of the situation. "Which wasn't supposed to be that common in the Westerlands, considering that my father had always been so meticulous with keeping the order in his kingdom for that to be the case."

Instead of staring at my uncle with disdain, Tygett and Daven nodded silently, before the latter requested to speak.

"Go on." I gestured for him to continue.

Daven cleared his throat before speaking with confidence. "My educated guess is that the change of seasons has been slowly causing a small crisis in the realm, with the agriculture of all the continent still struggling to readjust the crime rate in Westeros steadily rose as an indirect consequence. Even trade with Essos hasn't been as successful as my father had expected, probably because even they are having trouble with it."

"I see it as a sign that things will get worse before we can make a difference." Tyrion remarked to them before reminding me of something.

Strangely enough, I was relieved from that realization. It implies that I would have plenty of opportunities to demonstrate my Legion's aptitude, with the more opportunities I took advantage of, the greater the impact and influence we would have on Westeros.

As Tygett, Daven and Tyrion continued to inform me of everything they thought I would be interested to know, I kept thinking.

With Tywin Lannister being already aware of my magic, it was but a simple matter of having my inventions being effectively introduced to solve most of our current problems while the Old Lion covered up for me with logical justifications from his part.

Money clearly wasn't a problem for either of us, but during each harsh winter, food was actually worth more than gold. Thankfully, lands under the Neck weren't buried under thick layers of snow during those periods, which allowed the soil to still be somewhat usable for agriculture.

And by mixing my experimental fertilizer rich in nitrogen around the land without anyone being aware, I accomplished that all the processes of seeds sprouting happened much faster, while incidentally making sure that most of the fruits would be optimal for consumption. And I was confident it would immensely help my plans for the future.

Taking time to access everything that has been said to me up to that point, I was still hearing stories from things that I already had a little bit of knowledge about, so I returned to my mental rambling.

Honestly, all of this preparation reminded me of playing Age of Empires while being mindful of my civilization's resources and advancements. As by the end of 289 AC and the beginning of 290 AC, my Royal Legion had progressed from the vanity project of the young Crown Prince, to something more realistic.

"Although we hadn't fought in any wars yet, we've slowly but surely assumed the post of those responsible for keeping the order around the Westerlands." Daven spoke up again, showing his optimistic mindset.

And I agreed with him.

"You could say that." Tygett remarked, seemingly guessing my opinion, caressing his beard while staring down at the map of the Westerlands displayed on the table among us. "But I would recommend saving that judgment for later. Once we've expanded to a proper size we will have to deal with the challenges all powerful organizations do. Betrayal and corruption. It could still work, but we will face huge risks."

"Fortunately, we will have help." Spoke a familiar voice with its peculiar mirthful mood. "The smallfolk are already singing praises at our efforts. And even if most nobles aren't that mindful of us, due to our lack of numbers and battlefield experience, that certainly has its uses as well. Laying a proper foundation with useful connections, that should be our main concern."

At that point the four of us were joined by Gerion Lannister himself, who immediately understood the nature of our conversation, accompanied by an actual Lioness, one of the newest pets of house Lannister after my arrival.

From my experience with Shadow, I got curious about interacting with the caged lions in Casterly Rock during my brief stay here.

These big cats haven't been trained in proper combat yet, only being taught how to behave and follow, though I doubt her nature would allow it to be that much of an issue if the need arises.

Gerion, being the most unorthodox Lannister of his family, volunteered himself to test one of them out.

From the looks of it, and the brief words I got from this lioness in particular, who was currently being patted by Daven, this crazy idea had some merit behind it.

So far, I've actually managed to tame some lions in order to have them be to the Lannisters of Casterly Rock what the Direwolves were to the Starks of Winterfell.

Using the excuse that a skilled animal trainer had sold them to Tywin, who was initially hesitant for obvious reasons, but soon agreed to my point of them being quite useful in both practical and intimidating purposes.

Though contrary to the Starks, I wasn't going to have them travel around Westeros before I was absolutely certain that these tamed lions and lionesses wouldn't make a fool out of House Lannister.

"Ready for another voyage, Don?" Gerion asked after noticing that most of the important matters had already been discussed. "Ha! I've never seen anyone more at ease inside a ship. Heh. That is, anyone that wasn't an ironborn."

I recalled that great opportunity for me to gain new skills and complete more quests.

During an entire week, under my request, I had the charismatic Lannister helping me with climbing masts, tying knots, scrubbing decks, pulling oars, caulking leaks, raising and lowering sails, manning the crow's nest, learning to navigate and steer.

Even got Tyrion to join in the fun, especially since Tywin wasn't willing to openly oppose me.

Meanwhile Tygett helped me with organizing and leading my Royal Legion, not to mention practical warfare lessons to compensate for my lack of study from Pycelle.

Noticing how helpful Daven was being to Tygett, I confirmed that I've successfully placed Daven in an excellent position to learn everything he could from the experienced Lannister knight.

Even acting as his squire whenever I wasn't in need of his presence, which would hopefully secure him a well deserved knighthood.

It had taken all my persuasion and planning skill to make all of them believe I wasn't bossing them around, much less manipulating them as my pawns, fabricating an illusionary comprehension that I've trusted everything on their own competences and personal judgments.

Don't get me wrong, they weren't dimwitted or anything close to it, I just wasn't the type to completely trust others. Even Alysse and Rhaenys weren't completely aware of all the contingencies I've prepared for them in case of an emergency.

Shrugging my shoulders, I finally reasoned without carrying too much about it. "I suppose that other than the Valyrians to which I owe a little bit of hair and an eye, I also have the river-faring people of Rhoyne to take after."

However, that notion made the Lannisters stop in realization for a moment.

While I had the option to personally pick which bloodlines I wanted to be affiliated with, it was still uncommon to be so much shaped by one's own lineage, regardless if most of the great houses had existed for thousands of years and intermarriage between them not being that rare.

To break the awkward silence, I tactfully answered Gerion's initial question. "Though sadly I won't be repeating it again for quite a while, granduncle. Since winter has passed, time has once again become a commodity I can't spend so freely without jeopardizing my other responsibilities with my grandfather."

"Oh, I see." Gerion, and the others, focused on me again. "I suppose it makes total sense. After all, it's Tywin we are talking about."

'See, Tywin was my best excuse for anything!' I mentally shouted before ending our brief meeting.

Dismissing them for now, I walked out of our reunion chamber, having both Sandor and my undead knight immediately following me.

Occasionally I had sneaked around as my Knight and Bard personas, dropping some inspiration here or there towards where I wanted them to go or simply doing tasks myself, like challenging the most skilled fighters and entertaining them with my songs during their off-duty time.

'That reminds me!' I thought while turning my gaze at my bodyguard disguised as my Knight persona.

My arcane studies, and in particular experiments with controlling undeads, were somewhat successful. I still kept my Undead Knight disguised as whatever identity I wished to have by my side at a certain moment, and that led to my understanding of Necromancy shaping up to become the highest of all the other schools of magic.

Subtly staring at my right palm while activating my hand of harm monk feature on top of my Decompose spell, I watched as it became pitch black with my Ki manifesting necrotic energy.

In general, think of magic within the School of Necromancy as manipulating the ebb and flow of different creatures' "life energy" or the balance of energy between life and death.

This could also come across in the form of helping resurrection or draining health with necrotic damage, but also dealing with shadow magic.'

'Don't worry, I'm well aware that Necromancy could eventually prove to be a Monkey's paw of sorts. But right now, it was just like any other school of magic that could be misused if not properly understood. And I took solace that the Stranger itself didn't warn me against delving into the necromancy arts.'

Dismissing the abyssal Magic pulsating on my hand, I moved on.

I could feel that my Grim Harvest had the potential to expand beyond merely absorbing a bit of health from the targets I slew. If stamina and mana were to be included on that deal, my dream of becoming a one-man-army would be one step closer. Though precaution so as not to turn myself into an inferior version of a vampire.

And Control Undead, albeit considerably harder to sustain the longer it lasted or the more undead I had under my control, was another one of my contingencies in case my Legion ever betrayed me. Considering that regular corpses were still denied to me at the moment, it was a real pity that I missed the chance of binding one of those Shadows or the spellcasting undead to my will.

As I made my way around the Lannister castle, somehow, I knew exactly who I was going to meet this time.

"Oh, there you are, young man." I heard Genna Lannister, the middle child of the late Lord Tytos Lannister, greet me rather affectionately.

'Not like that.' I mentally corrected it. 'At least not this time, with both Sandor and my undead Knight close behind me.'

"You've been looking for me, grandaunt? Is there anything I can do for you?" I respectfully asked, delicately asking her to bring me up to speed.

"Oh, there's plenty of… er, I mean… is just that wonderful girl you brought with you who keeps insisting to work as a servant despite the fact that I've reminded her she was our guest." Genna said with a worried tone after quickly correcting herself.

I tilted my head in reaction, having already taken my time to explain things to Pia, only to have her remarking how cute I was.

"I wouldn't worry about it, grandaunt. I've explained to her that she wasn't expected to work like she did back with Lady Whent. But she insisted that she would hate to become a nuisance. And to thank for the hospitality, she wishes to help whenever she can, and learn as much as she can as well." Scratching my head, I added. "At least I've managed to have her promise to not overdo with the chores around the castle."

"I guess it will have to do." Genna replied slightly disappointed before changing subjects. "You know, the way you've been walking around and behaving, I can see that Tywin's expectations for you weren't unfounded. I see a little bit of both Jaime and Tyrion in you, mostly the parts that I know he admires in them, even if he isn't willing to admit."

"Thanks for the compliment. Growing up with uncle Jaime, and now living together with uncle Tyrion, I can see the reason behind your words." I told her in gratitude. "They have plenty of admirable qualities."

"Ah, and that well-mannered way of speaking." She placed her hands on my cheeks. "Reminds me of your mother, though in her case I could always know to be the telltale sign that she was up to no good."

She laughed before hugging me gently.

Monetary forgetting that we weren't allowed, this grown up woman all of the sudden got flustered and quickly said. "Oh, I almost forgot. Heh. I received a letter from my son, he and the Blackfish, alongside the few recruits that joined them, have just arrived on the Riverlands and have begun patrolling the roads."

"That's good to hear, I'm sure grandfather will be pleased." I said, still surprised by the way she had just behaved, but still sharp enough to notice she forgot to mention Bronn and Lothor were also away.

I so often underestimated the power behind each individual title I had unlocked, my Bard features in regard to social skills being a prime example of that, given that it has just reached level 10.

'Yup, stupidly broken. No shit, Sherlock.' I mentally facepalmed at no one in particular. 'Though to balance it a little, I only got boosts to my Bardic Inspiration. Which apparently allowed me to influence others even passively, better revitalize and sooth wounded allies, and even boost healing and offensive spells. What the actual fuck?!'

Back to Genna…

'Poor woman, she must be going crazy realizing how I made her feel, despite our age gap. Especially since I wasn't disguised as my other identities to make it less… weird.' I thought, watching Genna take her leave while a little embarrassed with all of what just happened. 'If only I had this charisma while I was back at the Red Keep, I'm sure mother and I would've bonded much quicker than we did.'

Noticing Sandor's weird face from the corner of my eye, I got a sudden feeling of déjà vu, which followed a mental note of realization that aided me to come up with a quick excuse. "Don't look at me like that, I'm just as confused as you." Turning to face my undead minion, I continued. "I hope you know that it's all your fault."

That comment flew completely over my undead knight's head, but Sandor was immediately inclined to believe in me.

Thankfully, the younger Clegane was just so oblivious to most social interactions, carrying only about killing and brutalizing others, that he didn't have any reason to doubt me, a prince who obviously was being raised to play the game of thrones.

"You know she's a married woman, if you two are going to get at it, make sure to not be caught in the act." I spoke once again to my undead, not really sounding like an ignorant child, only to use my Minor Illusion to make it seem that it was answering me.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, my prince." The hallucinative sound sounded just like the voice I had for my Knight's persona. "It's merely a one-sided relationship, since I have no intentions of getting myself involved into unnecessary trouble."

I 'accepted' his response once Sandor shrugged as if it was none of his business.

'Whew, mission accomplished! It was all the easier thanks to my Divination magic!'

As we resumed our walk around Casterly Rock, I began reflecting.

I was still getting used to the whole Portent thing, seeing glimpses into the future, noticing all the different possible timelines and attempting to actively course-correct my present to have one of them to become true.

'It brings an entire new meaning to the idea of making my own luck by either guessing or influencing the results I got from repeatedly throwing dice.' I mentally remarked.

Unfortunately it didn't always work like I'd intended it to, mostly due to the minimal details I got from those glimpses and insights allowing me to only influence so much before the events transpired, but having a vague comprehension of the future was still better than having no clue about it.

Especially if I wasn't cursed with the awful trope of having the future set on stone, which made all my efforts to stop it from happening being in actuality the cause of it in the end.

Ona a second note, I had dedicated most of my daily focus needlessly detecting the flow of mana surrounding me and setting destinations for my guiding arrow to every brief walk I made just to grind those cantrips.

Naming the first my magic sense, I found it so amusing to constantly practice, almost as if I had just developed a Byakugan since it wasn't restricted to my line of sight.

And the second, while suffering the most of the immersion-breaking problem, was quickly evolving to be able to find the quickest way towards any known destination and finding more paths towards it.

Probably due to all of that grinding, Divination Magic seems to be naturally getting less costly for me than the other schools.

Almost to the point of making my first class spell cost no mana point at all, which I could see as a way of finally getting a reliable use of my tempestuous magic feature.

On top of that, Guidance had made the idea of raising an army of intelligent soldiers a worthwhile endeavor to strive for, since they were the best candidates to learn skills from me.

Not forgetting that I couldn't also cast it on myself.

'Finally!' I mentally shouted, since my Player's Mind insisted on keeping me so stoical. 'Rage momentarily boosted my Power and Endurance stats, Action Surge boosted my mobility, Sneak Attack my Stealth… Now I had a spell to give me an extra edge with the Intelligence stat.'

To the surprise of none, mastering the basics of new schools of magic with my awakened Spellbook was undoubtedly beneficial to raising my Wizard level, twice, and my Sorcerer title, once.

'Level 8 wizard and level 7 sorcerer! Yes baby!' I celebrated, not bothered at all that I didn't unlock any feature, only more sorcery points, since it made me hopeful that something big was on its way.

That leads me to what else I've been doing during my spare time…Other than constantly checking on the growth of my Legion, I continuously took the opportunity to bond with Sandor, Tyrion and Daven, the latter two who were for all intents and purposes, the next Lords of Casterly Rock and Lannisport respectively.

A few days ago, I swear to you, I heard Tyrion asking: "Dear nephew, I'm sorry for my lack of subtlety, but could you find a position for me to be of use? Whatever is the deal between you and my father, he clearly respects you. And it appears to be rubbing off on me."

'Well, I'll be damned!'

After my ultimatum, Tywin Lannister actually dialed down on his hostility towards Tyrion, perhaps finally understanding his son's usefulness as he aided me with my Royal Legion.

As for Daven, despite our ten year age gap, we became close friends.

He was on the verge of becoming a full fledged Legionnaire, having gained some experience patrolling the Westerlands' coast, but since he was the future lord of Lannisport, I had a different plan for him.

Once I even had Daven switch places with Tyrion, leaving my uncle to learn more about the logistics of war from Tygett and have Gerion guide him around the training of my marines.

The fact that Daven's sisters were constantly asking about me made it a little awkward for him to interact with me sometimes, but thankfully Daven wasn't as protective as Uncle Jaime was of Cersei, so unless I went out of my way to disrespect them, I believe we will be fine.

"Come again?" I blinked at his revelation.

"You heard me right." Daven chuckled while rubbing his temples. "I was nicknamed the Sealion of Lannisport."

His sisters giggled at his words, not maliciously, more in a teasing sense.

"Well, your house banner, a Lion and an anchor over the sea, is basically that." I told him not really that impressed, but also not interested in making him feel bad about it.

"Come now, Don." He laughed pointing at the banner his mother had so proudly sewn on his cloak. "We both know how sealions look like, and that's not it."

"That might be true…" I shrugged. "…but I've also never heard of a dragon with three heads roaming Westeros and yet the entire continent lived in fear of the Targaryens for almost three centuries." I encouraged him, suddenly gaining some support from his sisters. "Same thing for a Lion with golden fur, a falcon that reached the moon, a golden rose that never stops growing stronger, much less a sun pierced by a lance. You wanted to hear my advice… well here it is… wear it like armor so it can never be used to hurt you."

This seemed to shut everyone's mouth for a moment, and I could see that Daven was immediately reflecting over my words.

I almost expected him to pull up a paper and start to take notes.

"Oh, and for the old gods and new, go thank your mother. She could've just ordered a servant or paid a tailor to make it, but she decided instead to make it for you herself." I gave him my personal wake up call while sneakily using my Bardic Inspiration.

Standing by my side, witnessing all the inspiration I've been handing out, Sandor was constantly reminded about what type of person he had sworn to protect and serve.

"You disagree?" I casually asked him after leaving Daven for his own thoughts.

"It's not my place to question princes." Sandor shrugged before momentarily glimpsing at my disguised Undead Knight, waiting to hear his answer, only to growl at his silence.

To be honest, at first dealing with his cynicism almost gave me the idea that he would be more comfortable with a stupid vicious prince that would rather call him dog and have him brutalizing peasants than someone that would lead him to a better path by questioning his preconceptions.

"But it was… nice of you. If not a little… bloody annoying." The younger Clegane grunted, immediately pretending to not really care about it. "Shit… a family that cares for you is not something to be taken for granted. You never know…"

"Thanks, Clegane." I replied.

As you can see, my initial picture of him being a misunderstood tsundere proved true as I insisted on treating him with respect and showed concern for his well being.

After spending months with the three Westlanders, I eventually got to trust them enough to add them to my party, though I still refrained from sharing my broken perks.

Nor did I reveal anything to them, like my magic, setting without warning the parameters to expel them from my party if they ever went against me.

So from this moment onwards, the lesser version of my system gave them a great advantage over regular people.

Though I had to bring forth a matter that has been puzzling me ever since I got a broader view of one of my companions.

(FLASHBACK BEGINS)

"You want me to do what?!" My bookish uncle asked rather loudly as we stood in a large courtyard.

Sighing at his antics I run towards him, naturally surprising him to the point of making him trip backwards, before jumping and flipping over him.

"Oh, Haha. Must be so nice being already taller than me." He spoke rather sarcastically as he dusted his clothes off.

"I did warn you." I replied before offering him a hand to stand up.

"Fine." He accepted my hand. "So this is the reason you brought me here. You want to train me?"

"No, I will be training you." A new voice joined us.

It was my Monk persona, with his silver hair and purple eyes.

"And who are you?" Tyrion finally asked before we began.

Originally, in the books, Tyrion had stood out as an interesting case for me.

The reason I say this was because there were contrary events that made one wonder in confusion.

At the start of the books, he was sitting up on a perch, on a ledge above the door of the common room of Winterfell, how he got up there was not really explained.

He doesn't seem strong enough to be a climber.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Tyrion exclaimed while halting his progress on the workout I had planned for him. "I'm not entirely sure that you've noticed, but I got shorter legs than you two."

He says that now, but in the beginning of the books he jumps off, does a spin thingy in the air, lands on his hands and then rolls himself upright.

"The problem isn't in your anatomy." I told him disguised as a Valyrian monk. "It's in your bad habits. Drinking and a lazy way of life will lead you into an early grave."

"I will let you know that being drunk all the time is not that easy. If it was, everyone would do it." Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Tyrion argued back. "As for having an early grave… have I told you about…"

"Let me guess, you want to die of old age living exactly how you do now? Ask any Maester how unlikely that will be if you can barely do a few laps around this area." I casually told him, actually enjoying myself for having this sort of moment with a character I knew so much about. "I don't mean to be rude, my Lord, but it is known people with your stature already have plenty of disposition for health disorders, will you be willing to risk it?"

This time Tyrion remained silent and began running again. For a dwarf, he could be very agile and athletic if he set his mind to, my first guess was that he required the appropriate motivation.

But not only mobility, he also took part in a few battles throughout the books.

On the way to the Eyrie, he kills a man with an axe and takes his half helm, following it up by dodging the men with swords and attacking them with the axe.

In the Riverlands, he fought with his mountain clansmen in the Vanguard, somewhat differently to what the Tv show led us to believe. He took a blow to the shoulder but uses his battleaxe pretty well to kill a few grown men.

Tyrion also takes part in the battle of the Blackwater as well. The half man couldn't possibly be bad in combat if he could take on grown men and defeat them.

"Wooden weapons? Do you expect me to engage in battle?" Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were training me so that I could live more healthily. Why risk my chances in combat."

"You never know. We live in a dangerous world and you appear to be quite rich." I shrugged. "Never heard of someone that lived up to his eighties without ever facing danger. If I were you, I would rather learn how to avoid getting killed off so easily."

"Fine." He accepted the wooden short swords before looking around for some extra gear. "But I want some protection. Wouldn't want to ruin this handsome face of mine."

Tyrion was by no means a skilled Knight or as talented as his brother Jaime was in his youth.

However, he did things at times which were surprising and were never expected of him.

He doesn't kill in all of those cases from behind either, relying only on dirty fighting and surprise attacks. Tyrion kills some of them face to face in open combat.

Other events which seem contrary to his skill and strength were when he could barely walk up the stairs or keep up with people walking as his legs continuously cramped.

To me something never seemed to add up.

Sometimes he does seem like a demon monkey who can do things whenever he needs to, the rest of the time he has the persona of a more restricted and limited person.

From the first time we met, I've had big questions over his true physical abilities, thinking he was in fact strong and not as limited as he seemed originally.

Tyrion did take on the Stoneman at the Rhyone as well, someone truly weak with no ability or strength would not risk such acts.

He had more ability than regular readers of the Books and viewers of the Tv show were led to believe.

"Watch this, nephew. It's a trick I learned from my uncle Gerion, so I'm passing it down to you." Tyrion spoke to my illusion before performing several cartwheels, only to drop to the ground very dizzy. "Ouch! Shouldn't have done that."

I merely shook my head at his antics before thinking to myself. 'Sometimes I forget that I'm mentally older than you, uncle.'

It was like he transformed during battle, not only by adrenaline rush, but he actually became more skilled, however, once the battle was over, he returned to his normal whining self about his legs.

To me, he was somewhere in between the frail yet agile Children of the Forest (Hobbits) and the slow yet strong Ibbenese (Dwarfs), and it would be very fortunate if I managed to direct him to a similar path I had Rhaenys take.

So I decided to practice alongside him some acrobatic moves and challenge him to shoot a crossbow, which was very pleasant since Tywin was no longer hell-bent on prohibiting him from acting like that.

"I never got the appeal of crossbows." Tyrion said as he was about to take his first shot.

Feeling the recoil and witnessing how deep the bolt he shot got into the targets we were practicing on, he grinned all of a sudden.

"Well, scratch that." He chuckled, immediately attempting to reload it again.

'Tywin better watch out this time.' I suddenly remembered.

A pitty both Jalabhar and Syrio were still busy patrolling the countryside of the Westerlands, otherwise I would've included them into Tyrion's training.

Hell, Thoros could certainly learn a little bit about going easy on the wine.

(FLASHBACK TRANSITION)

As for Daven, I wanted him to become the next coming of Jaime Lannister, without the Kingsguard and Kingslayer matters, as just like my uncle he was expected to rule his own house.

"Up, down, right, left." I said as my Knight persona while intercepting every single attack from the heir of Lannisport. "Now block!"

"Ahhhh!" He shouted while being knocked back a meter after my punch met his shield, leaving him prone on the ground.

"Remember, in combat, posture is everything." He heard me saying before feeling the blunt tip of my sword at his neck. "Fighting petty criminals, untrained and with low quality equipment, is just the beginning for you."

"Got it!" He said immediately standing up again, not noticing the healing properties of my passive effects, focusing instead on my superior strength while Raging.

"Again!" I ordered.

Daven was much obliged by our constant sparring matches, with me being very insistent he mastered the basics of combat before anything else.

In return, I finally got someone to help me practice with the shield, and occasionally with long reaching weapons as well.

"Now the spear! I want to see you keeping your distance from me while still attacking." I told him while adjusting the runed bronze gauntlets I was wearing.

I even got Sandor to help me out practicing with both Lannisters on dirty fighting tactics.

"Now Clegane, the three of us will fight simultaneously. Whoever remains standing wins the match." I told him, already knowing it would mostly be me against the two of them.

As for my own progress… I've managed through great effort to level up. …Once.

Yeah, the sudden abstinence of constant killing through my Night Raids left me with only my sporadic quests to gain experience, and made me aware that I was growing overdependent on the murderhobo's path.

I still had to maintain the illusion that the Stranger was still roaming the streets of King's Landing, at least for just another year so it wouldn't be too on the nose for the likes of Varys.

(FLASHBACK ENDS)

At Tywin's Solar.

"Hand him the letter." Lord Lannister ordered his own Maester.

"Here it is, my prince." The old man bowed.

"Now leave us." Tywin added.

The Maester of House Lannister bowed in respect again before leaving.

Opening the letter I noticed Tywin's gaze upon me.

Recently I've been exchanging some letters with those I left behind, but nothing too revealing since I didn't completely trust the Maesters acting as intermediate mailers.

Even Pycelle, the Lannister loyalist, wasn't free of suspicion.

"News from the capital?" Tywin finally asked once I finished reading everything.

"Things appear to have gotten a little boring since I left the capital." I told him rather dismissively.

Sure, I had safer means to know that the Stranger was still scaring the shit out of criminals and corrupt gold cloaks, with both Tobho and Chataya's business having prospered thanks to some well thought out management.

And that the Alchemists were still rebuilding while studying my infusions in secret, looking for ways of mass producing it.

Even Alysse sent me a subtle encrypted letter that didn't stand out while also informing me both of her and Rhaenys well-being.

Which honestly was a relief.

Alysse had successfully managed to get Littlefinger to tutor her on the financial matters he had been working on as Master of Coin, with the intention of finding incriminating evidence of his selfish schemes, and working with Rhaenys to steal back all the money he stole from the crown.

Rhaenys pitched this idea as her own to Varys, in order to have his support and trust, and explained it as a way of simultaneously weakening my father's rule from the inside while also saving enough money to support her "brother" once he came to retake the Iron Throne.

Becoming in debt with the Iron Bank of Braavos was something that even Tywin couldn't so casually dismiss.

And both the Master of Coin and Whispers were taking advantage of my father's lack of restraint and constant disregard to his Hand's wise council.

Little did they know that I was taking advantage of them as well.

"My parents seem to be doing just fine." I finally said something else, as I didn't want to alienate the Old Lion. "My mother wrote to me a little about my siblings' well-being."

Cersei wasn't subtle with her plans to have me care for them in case her relationship with Jaime ever came to light.

Thankfully I could make use of it to have them grow loyal to me instead of her.

"Half-siblings." Tywin suddenly corrected, with a shadow of disgust hanging on his eyes, still so used to always dominating conversations.

"Technicalities." I shrugged. "The sort of that could ruin everything you've been planning for your house. And leaving me powerless to publicly defend my mother and uncle."

That seems to be enough to shut his mouth.

"As I was saying, it appears that Lann was still attempting to follow my footsteps, but isn't skilled nor intelligent enough to be taught at the same pace that I was. Which isn't that bad, given that I know he is already a cut above regular people." I explained out loud, merely getting a nod of acknowledgment from Tywin. "What surprises me though, is that uncle Stannis has shown some interest in him and is willing to have him visit Dragonstone."

'Well, color me impressed. If not a little envious as well.' I thought. 'With all that Dragonglass laying around, who knows how great my progress would be with my Sorcerer title. Forget about the magical Dungeon under it.'

"Stannis?" Tywin finally broke his short lived silence. "The future King of Westeros should be raised here in the Westerlands. Like you."

"And risk having his claim put to question once my father dies?" I made a rhetorical question. "Nonsense, having uncle Stannis grow fond of him will make him doubt any rumors about Lann's legitimacy as ruler and heir of my father."

Tywin stared at me for a brief moment, probably considering the logic behind my words. "Very well."

"As for my sweet little Anna…" I once again proceeded. "She has changed quite a bit. It seems my absence was necessary to have her behave more like a Lady. Well, without me around to spoil her, I guess it was inevitable."

"Just like her mother." Tywin remarked, somewhat nostalgic about the past. "If only I knew back then…"

'Are you repented for not having separated her from Jaime earlier? Or perhaps having managed to get her married to the late prince Rhaegar?'

"Don't waste your time with 'What ifs'." I dismissed his regrets. "Since I will be traveling tomorrow to the Reach, let's instead plan for the future."

"More visions?" He raised an eyebrow.

And I nodded, completely confident in my deception skills.

—————————————————————

The Next day.

Pia, or as I've personally nicknamed her, Pretty Pia, was the servant of House Whent who used to work in the buttery at Harrenhal before I convinced her to tag along.

Which weirdly enough, for multiple reasons, was easier than I had expected.

I suppose if Sandor was allowed to murder the butcher's son without Eddard Stark's approval, there wasn't much Lady Whent could do when the Crown Prince took an interest for an orphan servant.

Don't get me wrong, I had no intention of forcing her to do anything.

Pia had Rhaenys' age, nine years old, and Alysse's sweetness, so it wasn't that hard to believe that we got along almost instantaneously.

Despite being older than me, I was the one mostly taking care of her, while also polishing some of my social skills on her.

I had taught her a little bit of cooking and cleaning, in order to make her more than a mere burden with a pretty face, but I also encouraged the side of her that yearned for learning while developing her taste for stories and songs.

My Pretty Pia might not match the Player of the Game I had Alysse set on becoming in order to replace Littlefinger, but she will at least become a competent and loyal agent for Alysse and I to make use of.

And although I was nowhere near falling in love with the little girl, the same could not be said about her in regards to me.

"Oh, my prince, please continue one of your wonderful tales." Pia asked while chuckling rather cutely. "I've been constantly having dreams of what will happen next."

I raised an eyebrow at her request and stopped strumming the chords of my lute.

Regardless of how long I've been pretending to be just a kid, it was still strange, if not a little jarring, to occasionally keep up the act.

And yes, I've carried on with using some of my previous life's knowledge to gain the reputation of a natural storyteller and singer with great talent and creativity.

Especially when cute girls were involved.

So sue me, I don't really care.

"Sure, my dear. Which one?" I questioned as Shadow subtly came out of a dark corner on my carriage and leapt only to rest on my lap while purring. "And please, I've already told you to call me Don."

"Understood, my… er, I mean, Don. Heh. Let's see…" Pia pondered for a brief moment while making an adorable face of concentration before replying. "I find the tale about the monster slayer mutants a little too scary. Same thing about the one with cursed knights standing against dark creatures rising from beneath the earth in hordes. So I will go with the one that has the magical rings and the pretty elves."

"Oh, I see you appreciate the classical struggle between good and evil." I smiled back and allowed her to pat Shadow.

"Yes! …Don." Pia nodded energetically before awkwardly correcting herself. "It's much more exciting than the old and plain stories I've heard around Harrenhal."

"Okay then." I remarked before making myself comfortable again on the carriage that was leading us toward the Reach and putting away my lute. "Incidentally, I hope you've found the change of landscape just as pleasant."

"Yes, Don." She nodded with a sweet smile. "My previous home always gave me awful nightmares from its gloomy view. But since I've joined you, I've been seeing one beautiful castle after another… and countless chivalrous knights."

"Heh, I appreciate the compliment, but my legionnaires aren't knights." I chuckled while patting her on the head, watching as her smile didn't waver even for a moment. "Well, at least a vast majority of them."

"But aren't they brave men training and patrolling the lands daily to make it a more secure and prosperous place?" Pia argued with a confident expression, after I conceded her point she continued. "See? I know that one day most of them will accomplish great feats and become heroic knights themselves. And you will outshine all of them."

I winked at her optimistic opinion of me while smiling.

'I'll be satisfied if my soldiers were competent enough to be of use in the wars to come, instead of mere red shirts.' I thought dismissively for a brief moment.

Pia was too young to understand that my Royal Legion currently had too many men seeking fame and fortune.

Granted, I made sure to admit only really skilled and talented fighters, but most of them envisioned 'gaining Knighthood' as their ticket for an easier and more privileged life, not a path or cause for them to devote their lives.

Even after having the requirements for recruitment set much higher than it was reasonable for someone seeking to build an army, the really exceptional individuals were really rare to find.

I've come to label them as 'Variant Humans'.

Which was, in my opinion, in much better taste than to start calling them something weird like 'chosen ones' or 'main characters'.

Accepting that others that weren't me could also have some sort of 'plot armor' wasn't that comforting, as it could prove to be troublesome if leverage against my interests.

Besides, words such as Variant Humans also reminded me of pleasant times playing RPGs, where it was clear that humans overcame their short life spans by becoming overachievers conquerors.

Regardless, hearing the low yet constant sound of marching Legionnaires outside my carriage, I began recalling everything I've been telling Pia thus far about The Lord of the Rings, with a few spins to make it more comprehensible for Westerosi standards.

While also making sure to not villainize the pursuit of magical power and adding some of the headcanons introduced by the games.

Yeah, heresy to some, but I really enjoyed the journey of the fallen ranger and his vindictive wraith-partner.

We also shared some of the food I've prepared beforehand myself and continued to delve into the fantastical world Tolkien had come up with.

Eventually Tyrion got bored of his own book and decided to join us at one point, meanwhile Sandor was busy testing Daven's horse riding skills alongside the other Scouts.

A new division I've been thinking about.

"Dear nephew, If I didn't know how dear I am to you, I would certainly consider these Dwarves and… what were their names again?… Hobbits? Halflings?… as your way of mocking me." Tyrion remarked with a teasing smile.

I smiled back and hinted for him to continue. "But since you do know I care…"

"Heh. Honestly, I can't decide which one I like the best. Dwarves with Kingdoms rich in ancient grandeur, halls carved into the roots of mountains, the echoing of picks and hammers in deep mines and blazing forges and a commitment to clan and tradition does appeal to my wish fulfillment fantasies as a proud Lannister. But…" The little Lion instinctively reached for his wineskin, only to decide against drinking from it, probably recalling my previous pep talk. "…if I was even more honest, either having the comfort of a cozy home or being lured by the open road and the wide horizon to discover the wonders of new lands and peoples as a life goal was a fair enough purpose to me."

"You are far too modest, my lord." Pia complimented him with a friendly chuckle.

Having shared moments with Tyrion Lannister before even hearing of his reputation, added to the fact that most children were so innocent and oblivious about those kinds of matters, my Pretty Pia had nothing against him.

Even though she still flinched under Sandor's stare, I was slowly making him less of a creep with my subtle suggestions.

"Ah, you flatter me with your kind words, sweetie." Tyrion faked humbleness and gestured for me to continue. "But do go on, dear nephew. If I'm not mistaken, the fellowship of the Ring was dissolved and the… ring-bearer?… alongside his companion… were on their own."

"Indeed. But before we make another stop for the Legionnaires to rest, I would like to have another match of cyvasse with you." I asked in return while I sent Shadow to rest on Pia's lap.

"Deal." Tyrion happily accepted before clearing his throat.

Picking up my waterskin from my Inventory, I offered it to him. "Thirsty?"

"As much as I appreciate your impressive sleight of hand tricks, my thirst can't be quenched by water." Tyrion remarked with a dismissive gesture while confusing Pia, and by his posture, I could see he was sore from working out. "Besides, you will be speaking for quite a while, so save it for later."

"If you insist." I shrugged before proceeding with my tale.

Despite its simplicity, this method of subtly practicing my Bardic Inspiration without requiring a crowded tavern has proven to be exactly what I needed.

Just as I made sure to teach Alysse about the power of eloquent oratory, I also followed the interesting quote on the botched and rushed ending to the TV series.

'What unites people?' My short uncle Tyrion, who was currently intrigued by the adventures J.R.R Tolkien wrote, would've asked before answering it himself. 'Armies? Gold? Flags? …No. Stories! There's nothing in the world more powerful than a good story. Nothing can stop it. No enemy can defeat it.'

There was undeniable power in stories.

That's all history was: The best tales.

The ones that lasted long enough for everyone to know about them enough to continue to pass on, at least.

Which might as well be mine.

Having said that, what interested me the most was the prospect of taking Bran's place and becoming the next Three-Eyed Raven.

If the TV show was right, I would be this world's memory. The keeper of all of the stories. The wars, weddings, births, massacres, famines, triumphs and defeats. Basically warden of the past.

I wonder if altering the past was just another one of the TV show's creative liberties with the source material, but if proven to be accurate, the possibilities would certainly be limitless.

As well as the risks, but interesting enough, that's a concern for the future.

Currently both my Sorcerer and Druid titles were my best hope of ever having a chance of gaining the other powers the children of the forest were said to wield in legends, with Wizard and Artificer promising more to deliver the secrets of Old Valyria and the mythical Empire of the Dawn.

Speaking with nature was a weird thing, an experience which I couldn't make head or tails while explaining to others.

It's not like plants, animals or even rocks suddenly became smarter than they already were so to have a proper conversation.

Especially the rocks, who despite their ludicrous longevity were basically stagnant from my point of view. Hearing mainly whispers about the topography of the area nearby, if the soil was fertile or not, where the minerals were sturdier and where the wildlife passed by.

This gave me hopes of eventually becoming an extraordinary tracker and explorer.

And while most animals possessed all of the five senses, which allowed for a better understanding between us, plants only shared their emotions and current health.

Which at least aided me with handling/taming animals, given how clearer my commands were, and practicing agriculture armed with the knowledge of what my photosynthetic friend requires most.

So my alchemic fertilizer could be made to order after learning everything about the types of plants and soils.

But it was still a work in progress for now.

Back to my storytelling…

Once in a while, I noticed a few reactions that amused me.

"Oh, how romantic." Pia remarked with a blush.

She certainly had great admiration for the underdog arc the hobbits found themselves in, but most predictably also a certain adoration of the romance between Aragorn and Arwen.

She even had conflicted feelings with the introduction of Éowyn, finding her a lovely character, but at the same time still pioneering the role of shipping fangirl in this world.

"Their love is so beautiful!" Pia gushed again. "She would actually forsake her immortality just for him! Her father has to acknowledge their bond!"

However Tyrion wasn't that interested in the romance and drama, occasionally rolling his eyes at Pia's exaggerated enthusiasm, though not to the point of maliciousness, he was instead rather engrossed by the worldbuilding aspects of the tale.

"I've been thinking. About Mithril… A precious silvery metal, stronger than steel but much lighter in weight." Tyrion interrupted my narration of the story. "Basically Valyrian Steel, right?"

Pia's eyes shone with curiosity, probably expecting to hear more in-depth explanations about the magical world of middle-earth.

"In a sense." I casually shrugged watching as Shadow began to stretch herself on Pia's lap, balancing with the movement of our carriage. "Only that Mithril could be mined out of the ground."

"Why didn't you make the veins of ore to be fortified just like Casterly Rock?" Tyrion showed the telltale signs of frustration that comes from applying real world logic into fiction. "If it is several times more valuable than gold, why sell it for riches? Why not raise a small army equipped with it and take all the riches by force?"

"To be honest, because almost everyone wanted it just as much. Fortifying such a site would require considerable external influence and power to fend off everyone else who might challenge you for it, for example a tyrant Dark Lord." I revealed my personal opinion on the matter. "Even if weapons and armors made out of Mithril could be of the best quality in comparison, with ancient craftsmanship techniques capable of creating legendary objects out of ordinary materials, it just wasn't worth the risk of losing it all in battle. Or worse, have your soldiers desert you. After all, just like in real life, castle forged steel could kill and be protected well enough from regular opponents with considerably less risks."

"Heh, makes sense. But still, I can't say I wouldn't like to try it." He admitted with a smile before signaling for me to continue, since we still had quite the journey ahead of us.

—————————————————————

Walking down the coast road into the reach was as pleasant of a journey as one would find in this continent, as the hills and mountains of the Westerlands were behind us, still visible on the horizon.

To the right, the Sunset Sea twinkled in the Summer Sun, making me curious about the possibility of discovering new lands, and ahead fields stretched off as far as the eye could see.

Even shortly after winter, Melons, peaches and Fire plums could already be seen beginning to grow everywhere just as Pycelle had described during my lessons about the Seven Kingdoms.

Which really explained why most of the men enlisting in my Royal Legion knew a little bit of cultivating lands, it literally grew everywhere around here with seemingly no effort so it made sense for them to learn one thing or another in such an environment.

As my retinue got closer to Highgarden, we were greeted with the view of fields after fields of roses of every imaginable color.

The scenery was lush and verdant, and the air hung heavy with the scent of flowers and herbs, for this truly was the garden of Westeros, and rising up before me, was my first destination after leaving the Westerlands.

Highgarden.

If you imagine what a castle ought to look like, especially found in fairy tales and high fantasy settings, it was surely something like it.

And just like I did with every castle I've visited, I was definitely taking notes about how to better rebuild Harrenhal to surpass its former glory.

Highgarden was built for beauty as much as defence.

As it sat atop a hill with white stone arcing into the sky, around it were three curtain walls each taller and thicker than the last, and inside, towers and colonnades were visible.

With all this in apparent cultivated harmony with nature, Ivy climbed the walls everywhere, bird's nest in trees and the river Mander passed majestically before it.

Highgarden style itself was the heart of chivalry, and indeed we could sight many knights here, practicing for any tourneys that would be hosted here or in nearby towns.

There was also a healthy toing and froing of people as my retinue drew nearer, smallfolk heading out to or returning from the fields, traders passing through and Tyrell servants about their business.

With all the bustle and beauty of our surroundings, it was easy to underestimate the power of house Tyrell that was being displayed here.

Then again, perhaps that was the exact intention.

When discussing the mightiest families of Westeros, most might bring up the rich Lannisters or the Targaryens with their dragons, or even the Starks and their vast kingdom.

But the Tyrells were often overlooked.

They shouldn't be.

The Lannisters may be the richest family but the Tyrells were the second richest with their fertile lands and abundance of farms.

Highgarden may not be a mighty city, but it stood on the crossroads between the three largest cities of Westeros.

Them being Lannisport, King's Landing and Oldtown. Going from one to another, one will almost certainly pass through here.

But don't forget that the largest army in Westeros was the army of the Reach, being capable of raising a host twice as large as the inflated numbers of the Lannisters after hiring several mercenaries.

Also, one of the three largest fleets was the Redwyne fleet here in the Reach, which might have assumed the first place once the Iron and Golden fleet got destroyed after the Greyjoy rebellion, and the Royal fleet joined Stannis during the War of the Five Kings.

And the region that grew and exported the most amount of food to elsewhere was also the Reach, even despite their difficulties to adapt to the shorter seasons.

House Tyrell might preside over beauty and chivalry, but they were undeniably just as strong.

Growing Strong, as their motto announced so proudly to the world.

Not that house Tyrell had been the paramount house in the Reach for a long time by Westerosi standards.

Highgarden itself was founded by Garth the Gardener, that legendary figure who was the eldest son of Garth Greenhand, the High King of the first men.

House Gardener, Garth the Gardener's descendants, then reigned from Highgarden as Kings of the Reach for thousands of years.

They were said to have ruled from a living throne, called the Oakenseat, which grew from an oak tree planted by Garth Greenhand himself.

Sadly, the Oakenseat was chopped into pieces and burned by the forces of a Dornish king who sacked Highgarden late into the reign of the then-senile King Garth X Gardener, otherwise I was confident to earn another Druid level.

A curious piece of trivia was that they had two crowns, one of vine and flowers that was worn during peacetime and another of bronze or iron thorns for war.

The Gardeners expanded their territory over

time, but it was during peaceful periods such as the Golden reign of Garth VII Gardner (which apparently lasted for 81 years) that Highgarden and the Reach truly prospered.

As with all noble families, they of course eventually had to deal with the Andal invasion, and they chose the route of assimilation rather than confrontation.

Under the leadership of three Kings, one after the other, who became known as the three sage Kings, the Andals and their customs were adopted wholesale in the Reach.

The Faith of the Seven became the established religion, Knights and chivalry were not just accepted but celebrated.

Andal craftspeople were actively encouraged to settle and share knowledge and skills with the local population.

And to cement it all, intermarriage between the First Men and the Andals became commonplace.

Finally, this is where the Tyrells came in, because House Tyrell was founded by Sir Alester Tyrell, an Andal Knight who was welcomed into the service of House Gardener.

To my understanding, he was the Tyrell equivalent of Lann the Clever, if you will.

His descendents rose to become stewards of the Gardeners and intermarried with them perhaps 10 times over the years.

So when House Gardener was destroyed on the field of fire during the Targaryen Conquest, they were the obvious choice to take over.

How fortunate for them, I suppose.

But enough history for the moment. I certainly could go for days, but decided against it.

As my retinue was just about to enter this ancient yet beautiful and well-kept Castle, with Sandor and Daven leading my marching Legionaries on their own horses while bearing my Royal Legion's banner.

Passing through the gatehouse of the first

curtain wall we were faced with a rosebush hedge, as we went further in it became apparent that this was a maze.

A couple of influential figures that were expecting us bowed in respect, most visitors usually paused by this point, uncertain of which way to go in order to get to the next gatehouse until some guard came to inform them, but I was greeted cordially by Lord Tyrell and his older sons.

The Tyrells the TV Series completely forgot about, Willas and Garlan Tyrell, currently fifteen and fourteen years old respectively.

Even if they were both still taller than me, the gap between us was smaller than the one between me and Daven.

—————————————————————

"It's an honor to receive you in my humble castle, my prince." Mace Tyrell spoke jovially with a bow, despite his appearance being more reminiscent of how my father was supposed to turn into before the start of the books. "It hasn't been a year since we've last met and you already look taller. Your father's blood is undoubtedly serving you well. Haha!"

Both Willas and Garlan followed their father's example as the Tyrell's guards bowed silently behind them.

"Thanks for the welcoming." I replied back, more confident in the few inches of height I've gained since my Sixth name day. "Stormlanders are known for their quality as warriors."

"They indeed are, my prince." Mace said with a smile, before motioning for his older children to introduce themselves. "I don't think you've had the chance to properly meet my boys."

Willas wasn't a cripple yet, showing no signs of a bad leg.

Canonically, during his first tourney, he would enter as a squire of a young age due to his father's wishes and competed against Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, who knocked Willas from his horse.

The Tyrell heir's foot would be caught in his stirrup as he fell, and have his own horse on top of him, crushing his leg and leaving him a cripple.

"My prince." The eldest son said politely before stepping forward. "My name is Willas Tyrell, I'm a great admirer of your initiative in raising a force of elite soldiers to guard the realm."

Mace held out a chuckle, he obviously wasn't impressed by our small numbers.

"Thanks, but truth be told, I've been mostly relying on my mother's family to make my ideas into reality." I opted for humbleness.

My brief Observe described Willas as intelligent, studious, educated, kind and enthusiastic about breeding the finest hawks, hounds and horses in the Seven Kingdoms.

Willas was also described as mild and courtly, fond of reading books and looking at the stars, which was a funny piece of trivia, but I'm sure I could make use of it.

As Willas interpreted my words as wise modesty, his younger brother, similar in appearance to his older brother, although slightly taller and more broadly built, was the next to step forward.

From their body language the two weren't all that close to one another, as the Tyrell brothers knew where they stood.

Not that they hated each other, quite far from it.

Only that when Garlan was allegedly plump in his youth, Willas shrewdly dubbed him the Gallant to save him from the indignity that befell an uncle of theirs, nicknamed Garth the Gross. But it didn't seem to sit well for Garlan ever since.

"My Prince, my name is Garlan Tyrell and it's my goal to one day be accepted as one of your legionnaires." Garlan was undoubtedly straightforward with his words.

In similar fashion to Bryden Tully, The Blackfish, Garlan had his personal coat of arms as two golden roses on green, to denote his status as second son and differentiate himself from Willas.

From using Observe on him, I got that he had been considering his options for the future for quite a while now.

The second son of Lord Tyrell would turn into an exceptionally skilled swordsman, preferring to train against three or four swordsmen, so as to better prepare himself for actual battle.

Uncertainty over the Night's Watch current condition prevented him from throwing his life away by vowing to fight alongside criminals and exiled traitors. Though I wouldn't disregard the notion of him simply hating the cold, like most people did.

The Kingsguard order might have better prestige, but even without being around to witness their decadence, he was smart enough to understand that it wasn't a position where he would be expected to regularly fight. And if glory and fame were everything to him, he would've ended up just like Loras.

My Royal Legion was by far the best option, at least on paper, since we were still less than a year active or that our influence barely reached past the Westerlands into the Kingdoms of the Riverlands and the Reach.

"I look forward to hearing about your future accomplishments." I finally answered Garlan's bold statement. 'I will definitely have to keep an eye on you two.'

We continued to share courtesies on our way through the legendary briar labyrinth, which was undeniably beautiful and I'm sure a diverting way to waste a few hours socializing or stalling time for strategic defense, serving a more practical purpose.

The outside of the hedges here were green and filled with flowers and suchlike, but digging a little deeper and one would find behind them a thick impassable tangle of harsh thorns.

An ingenious way of slowing down any invaders who make it past the first curtain wall.

But eventually we did make our way through this maze following Mace Tyrell and his sons as we took the tourist route enjoying the view while my Legionnaires were allowed to raise camp near the castle's walls.

Pia would accompany me to live inside the castle, probably fulfilling some of her innocent fantasies. She would still be busy either studying or completing a few tasks I've assigned to her, but I knew when to let her rest and enjoy the moment.

She was, after all, just a child.

As for Lord Tyrell, his behavior towards me was a little tricky to deal with.

His sons certainly weren't oblivious to that, since I noticed them several times observing me to get a read on my thoughts.

Biggest reason being how often Mace enjoyed bragging about how he viewed himself as a great warrior and military general. Regardless if his boasting rested solely on the victory of the Reachmen soldiers over my father's in the Battle of Ashford during his Rebellion.

If I was being honest, all of it had largely been achieved by Mace's bannerman, Lord Randyll Tarly, before the Fat Flower even arrived at the battlefield.

But I guess I've all but asked for all of this gloating after mentioning how much of a military force the Stormlands were. Not to mention the understandable reaction at the view of my Royal Legion's unending training drills and strict discipline.

The good side was that I took one of their notes and had opted to grow strong without much eccentricities, valuing quality over quantity to a rather comical degree.

Overall, our numbers were still really small to worry any Lord who could in theory raise a host of more than ten thousand soldiers and that already had their hands full with the frequent winters and the rising number of desperate people willing to become petty criminals.

But that benefit wouldn't last for long, soon enough everyone will be extra cautious with any advantage I might get on the game of thrones.

Back to the present, on the other side behind the other two curtain walls, we were surprised by a rather idyllic scene.

"Wow! It's so beautiful, Don!" Pia gushed about. "Do elves live here?"

"I don't know." I said, a little amused by her. "Let's find out."

She gave me one of her cutest smiles before nodding in excitement as we moved forward.

There were towers and a keep, but between them and all around us were courtyards and colonnades, groves of trees, fountains. I could even see a man-made waterfall bubbling into a brook which winded its way down the hillside.

And if that wasn't enough, around all this, there were artists, singers, and harpists. Exquisite statues were dotted around and everywhere had the sweet smell of roses.

Almost reminding me of my otherworldly experience visiting the New Gods, though I feared that nothing in this mortal world could hope to match it.

Speaking of it, there was in fact a Sept here that was rivaled in its size and beauty only by the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing and, supposedly, the Starry Sept in Old Town.

Its walls were not stone, but stained glass with colorful depictions of not just the Seven but also legendary heroes like Garth Greenhand and his crown of flowers and vines.

And to my great surprise, the Godswood here had three weirwood trees in its center, each tall and graceful. They were known as the three singers and have grown so close over the years that it was hard to see where one ended and another began.

Indeed, through Shadow's eyes, who I sent ahead to scout the area more freely, it looked like just one tree, albeit with three trunks.

This led me to make a mental note of sneaking out during the night and venturing into both the Sept and Godswood.

I ought to be cautious about 'worshiping' the Old Gods though, especially anywhere outside the North, even if I got a provisional alliance between both pantheons.

Taking a moment to observe now at the buildings, as the three Tyrells led me and my inner circle of followers, it was clear that they were of two distinct styles.

"These older structures probably date back to the Age of Heroes, being built by the First Men that once ruled this land." Tyrion told me while pointing at the squat and square buildings.

"But the rest, the tall slender towers circular rather than square, must've been built from after the end of the Andal invasion." I replied casually, earning a nod and impressed look from my uncle.

Regardless of their origins, the whitestone of all of these towers was covered not just in ivy and climbing roses, but also vines of grapes.

"One never goes for want of a tasty morsel to eat in Highgarden." Tyrion remarked comically, this time to Daven's amusement.

Sandor merely remained silent, probably disdaining the entire chivalrous theme of this Kingdom, while also staring suspiciously at my disguised undead knight who behaved even more silent than him.

Throughout the brief walk, I remained interacting with Lord Tyrell, since I was the face of my party, the centrepiece of this place was of course the keep, for which the only appropriate word was palatial.

From the stones that composed the ground, walls and ceiling, I even got a few snippets of information from what this ancient castle has been through.

The Great Hall was airy, with light statues even finer than those outside line the walls, and though this was clearly still a place for business, where Lord Tyrell administered justice, I couldn't help but wonder whether the true business of running the Reach was done not here but in the nooks and crannies of the castle along the shaded walkways and in passing conversations by fountains.

'A land of chivalry and fairy tales.' I mentally snickered.

People may appear to be just taking time in enjoying their surroundings, but the snippets of conversation I heard from passing by suggested this was every bit as much of a political place as King's Landing.

Which made me feel at home, if not a little homesick.

—————————————————————

As I was led deeper into Highgarden, I finally met the other members of the Tyrell family.

Lady Tyrell, once known as Alerie Hightower, was tall, dignified and with long silver hair.

"My prince." Mace's wife greeted me very cordially. "My deepest apologies for not receiving you in the front gate. My mother-in-law hasn't been feeling well since the end of last winter and I've been keeping her company."

"No apologies needed, my lady. At least not from you." I stopped her, surprising everyone with my last statement. 'Mace, you oaf! Shouldn't you be the one concerned about Olenna? She's merely the woman that gave birth to you.'

Before my thoughts could be understood by everyone else, I bowed my head at Lady Tyrell. "I'm really thankful for all of your family's hospitality. I know it must be quite the strain to receive a Royal member this close from a harsh winter."

"Not at all, my prince." The woman stepped forward. "You'll always be welcomed here."

"I truly appreciate that." Smiling at her kindness I continued. "But let me at least assure you that not only have we brought enough provisions to feed the retinue following me, but also enough to share some of our special meals with your family."

As the silver haired lady of Highgarden ended her words of gratitude, I was greeted by the last remaining members of the Tyrell family.

"Greetings, your grace." Proudly said a boy shorter than me while bowing in respect, his etiquette wasn't bad, but he still had plenty to learn.

Proof of that was how he mistook my title, not that I planned to point it out and make things awkward.

Not that I needed to anyway, since the boy was soon joined by a girl appearing to be just as young, if not younger.

"Forgive my brother, my prince." Placing a hand on the boy's shoulder while smiling respectfully at me, the boy's sister mimicked his bow while maintaining eye contact. "We are both honored to receive such an important guest."

Noticing how alike the siblings resembled, I didn't require Observe to know who I was dealing with.

"The honor is all mine." I replied charismatically while acknowledging their welcoming. "Please, call me Don. And don't worry about such quibbling over semantics, I'm not petty with trivial stuff like that."

Both nodded, looking at me with a certain gleam in their eyes.

Loras and Margaery were still too young for me to push any of my plans forward, with him being only a year older than me and her right about my age.

They were both noticeably good looking for kids their age.

While Loras hair was a mass of lazy brown curls and ringlets which tumbled over his large eyes, which were brown, Margaery had thick, softly curling brown hair and large brown eyes.

Although the soon to be Knight of Flowers wasn't anywhere near the gallant knight skilled in tournament jousts, I managed to notice a glimpse of his thirst for glory.

As for his sister, the shy and sweet little Margaery already showed a certain amount of shrewdness for political talk.

But what I found most amusing about the two was how identical they were despite the fact that they weren't not actual twins, like Cersei and Jaime or Joanna and Lann were.

If things were to remain similar to how they went on in the actual story, Loras would fall in love with my uncle Renly, and Margaery would seek to become Queen, either through me or my younger brothers, Lann or the supposed equivalent of Tommen my mother was bound to give birth to.

For now, they were still just too young to be anything more than childhood friends to me.

After managing to get rid of their father's less than pleasant company so to settle my belongings in the chamber I had reserved for me, I had the older Tyrell brothers to make me company.

Fortunately, I had my work cut in half by how much in common they had with Tyrion and Daven.

Although Willas was still in perfect health, he had yet to consider trying his hand on the acrobatic stunts I've been training with Tyrion.

Not that I wanted him to be that agile without assurances that he would be willing to serve me, but it never hurts to have something to bond over with, especially since his animal handling and training habits were very interesting to me.

I've handed my tamed cats, rats and doves to Rhaenys in order to give her another edge while I was away.

But since I've yet to find a way to shape Shadow into another type of animal, I've decided to use my Wild Shape feature and True Tongue skill to make up for that.

Now, while Daven and Tyrion showed more interest in hawks and eagles, and Sandor pretended to not care for the hounds, I was much more intrigued by Willas' work with the horses.

Through Pycelle I've learned basically everything there was to know, from the fundamentals of proper husbandry to training, but it didn't mean I've done it myself.

For example, Tobho Mott helped me improve through practice my Blacksmithing skill beyond everything that I've learned from an Archmaester that was brought to the capital to teach me more theoretical knowledge of Blacksmithing.

"Quite the collection of horses you have." I whistled in surprise after reaching Highgarden's stables, noticing it struck the perfect balance between quantity and quality that both King's Landing and Lannisport still struggled with.

"Thanks, my prince." Willas nodded in gratitude before turning to face his destriers, coursers and chargers. "Would you like to ride one?"

"Only if that isn't a problem for you." I remarked before noticing he even had palfreys, but no sand steeds to be found. Probably one of the many unintentional stances against everything that has to do with Dorne. "And please, call me Don."

"It surely isn't… Don." Willas reassured me and led me through what basically was my first experience riding a horse.

Not really, if we were to account for my previous life, but even back then it wasn't more than a couple of casual experiences.

Willas oriented me so well with how I should work alongside the animal to not only have it obey me, but actually understand what I was expecting it to do.

It made me wonder how his first joust would end up so badly for him. Perhaps it was that very talent that made his father so eager to sign him on a tourney he wasn't ready for.

Though I must say it was quite easy for me to master horse riding as I could actually trade a few words with the animal itself.

Nothing too deep like asking if the animal was happy with its life, or similar to how Shadow achieved full sentences, but enough to easily distinguish right from left and faster from slower.

Kinda like how I impressed Gerion during his lectures about sailing, as I heard and reacted to the way the wind and sea spoke to me, I immediately got Willas' attention.

The Reach was undoubtedly the best place for me to work on my animal army, or cultivating food for that matter, but I had to admit that I was still interested in having the famous Sand Steeds serving my Scouts.

'Okay, okay… you got me!' I mentally raised my hands in surrender. 'I'm thinking about the Survey Corps from AoT. What's the problem? It's not like I would also get my hands on anything like the vertical maneuvering gear. Not that soon anyway.'

Regardless, Willas and I would ride a few laps around their castle every morning during my stay, but for now I took the opportunity to know more about his birds of prey and hounds collection.

"You are a natural with this." Willas said with a surprised expression, noticing how I got to easily befriend even the most troublesome of the beasts in the castle. "The animals seem to really like you."

"Thanks, I just show them that I'm not a threat while also subtly asserting my dominance." I told the heir of Highgarden, fully aware of the double meaning behind my words.

"Oh. I see." Willas chuckled awkwardly while scratching his nape, not completely sure of the meaning behind it.

I had no hurry here, still got plenty of days to work on his view of me.

It was during my initial time with Garlan, around afternoon on that same day, that things got a little more exciting.

Although I've previously compared him to Bryden Tully, he also had signs of Tygett Lannister as well.

And as I saw him somehow match Daven's skill during their spar, he had the great idea to invite either Sandor or my disguised undead knight to spar with him as well. "Would any of you be willing to test your skill in a friendly match?"

This made Daven grimace, recalling that he had also done a similar thing after spending enough time with Sandor, who contrary to me wasn't willing to take it easy on him.

But Sandor had grown accustomed to how casual I was with matters like this, nor was he expected to shield me from any minuscule sort of threat to my life at any time, so he didn't even gesture threateningly at Garlan's casual challenge.

Subtly switching places and appearances with my Undead knight, speaking before the young Clegane could, I got myself ready to humble this noble boy.

"Not at all." I accepted his challenge while removing my cloak, immediately noticing the Master-at-arms showing signs of worry in regards of supervisioning our spar.

The stories of my Knight persona's skills were more often than not accurate depictions that most men thought as unreasonable exaggerations.

Still, most wouldn't be stupid enough to openly defy it.

While I've deemed Daven as a competent fighter in a straight combat during our first sparring, he had been quite stunned by how I circled around him without much effort.

But Garlan…

"Urg! Excellent parry and repositioning, Ser… Knight." He remarked barely dodging one of my casual attacks, that wouldn't have been that effective against someone wearing full plate armor. "And your footwork is impeccable."

'Speaking during our match? Alright, you are a little too arrogant for your own sake, boy.' I thought to myself.

Regardless if he showed interest in constantly improving his martial prowess in private, Garlan was still a highborn lad that deep inside sought to prove his own valor in battle, even if to himself.

Despite not enjoying acting like a kid, I definitely appreciated the low expectations people had for me, which made it all so precious whenever I almost got serious.

But there's where my other identities came, allowing me a certain level of freedom from consequences to not hold myself down too much.

Even without applying my Water Dance or Dirty Fighting skills to our match, I easily outmatched him in both raw strength, constitution and agility.

As Garlan thought he had caught me by surprise with a faint, I became alert to his muscles' movement and predicted that his next strike was aimed at my head.

I swung my head back and let the wooden sword pass through the air where my head used to be before I lashed out and stabbed my own wooden weapon at my opponent's throat.

Garlan twisted his body and somehow managed to get his sword back in front of his body to block the blow.

I continued my assault and twirled the blade towards his neck once again using the momentum of his block against him.

Garlan smacked it away with the armor on his forearm and moved towards me, intending to draw me in close range.

I smirked as I allowed him to do so.

The last time Daven had done such a thing it did not work out so well for him, as he had woken up staring at the clouds with a sore forehead from my elbow.

I blocked Garlan's right hook with my armored forearm, immediately going into a superman elbow to knock him out as I did against Daven and then I followed by immediately rolling on the back of my opponent.

As I hit the ground with a perfect posture, the breath finally left Garlan's lungs as his hands dropped his sword and shield.

He immediately began wheezing while trying to suck air back into his lungs.

'Okay, I cheated a little.' I promptly admitted. 'Since I didn't want to cause real damage in order to knock him out, I instead opted for practicing my Monk's feature, the Stunning Strike.'

If Garlan had been able to do anything other than focus on breathing in that moment, he would have heard a chorus of laughs mixed with the ooh's of sympathy.

Before I could deliver the finishing blow, the young Tyrell was on his knees and elbows facing the earth when he finally took that sweet sweet breath of fresh air for what seemed to have felt like years.

To him it must have felt like drinking a glass of water after a week in a desert, or some weird comparison like that.

"Alright, the match is over." The Master-at-arms declared to everyone after recovering from his surprise and came in between us.

"Take my advice, work on your stamina." I told him while swirling my sword before sheathing it and stretching my shield arm. "Otherwise, be sure that no skill will help you survive an opportunistic opponent."

While Garlan gave the best approximation of a thumbs up he could in his current condition, I received compliments from Willas and the others, who were all surprised by my previous stunt.

Though Daven did seem to notice the move I used on him as a prince, he probably attributed it to the fact that I must've been receiving combat lectures from my Knight persona.

It was the most logical answer anyway.

"In all honesty, my brother is no stranger to defeat." Willas conceded while trying his best to not laugh at Garlan's expense. "But I can't recall watching him receive such a definitive beating."

"There's no doubt the foreigner is impressive in combat." Sandor nodded, still surprised by my agility and strength despite heavy equipment. "He's mightier than he looks."

I raised an eyebrow at that. 'Were you sleeping during the tournament back on King's Landing?'

Even though I didn't show it that oftenly, in my original body I already had an actual rock-hard six pack abs, which was a stark improvement in comparison to my previous life if my memory didn't deceive me.

'Right now, as Knight, I was just as tall as you Clegane.' I thought. 'Is that merely bravado or confidence? I clearly defeated you while still dealing with Daven.'

In any case, after switching back to my appearance as Crown Prince we waited until Garlan had fully recovered from his exhaustion and Willas proceeded to walk me back to my chamber.

I've come with the intention of spending the fortnight on Highgarden and bonding with the Tyrells, but was a little surprised after hearing that the Queen of Thorns wasn't feeling well thanks to the sudden shifts of seasons.

I've been meaning to trade words with the female equivalent of Tywin Lannister during all the travel on my way here, you know, in order to make an excellent first impression.

One night during my stay at Highgarden, I sneaked into her chambers and did my magic.

Ew, not like that. Don't even joke about it.

Teasing a forty-five years old Genna Lannister was one thing, still good enough to be considered a Milf, Ollena Tyrell was already on her sixties, and definitely no longer a Gilf material.

At least for me.

Regardless, after making sure she was sleeping and finding out what was actually wrong with her through my Observe skill, I've shifted around all my medical knowledge before considering my healing skills, perks and features.

Summoned my Unseen Servants and had them ready to cast Spare the Dying as a safety measure, since I really desired to interact with the Queen of Thorns in the years to come, while my Legerdemain Hands aided me with providing any medical care she might require.

Thankfully, soon enough her condition stabilized and improved back to regular help.

I could have my Twilight Sanctuary doubled down on her Health points or just give her one of my healing potions, though my paranoia forced me to cast Detect Magic just in case she was being cursed, charmed or something like it.

Half an hour after my arrival, I've left with the old Tyrell feeling much better than she might've even before my birth had messed with this world's seasons.

'Consider this a favor, my Lady. One day I will expect you to pay it back.' I mentally remarked before jumping out of her window.

—————————————————————

My stay at Highgarden was an interesting experience, to be honest.

I almost considered staying longer, but I was on a schedule. Besides, my Legionnaires were running out of work this close to a Great house's castle.

In many senses, the Reach itself was nothing short of a fairytale, though some places were more interesting than others to me.

Although the farmlands were well maintained, the frequent winters were noticeably taking their toll on the population. At least to those wise enough to care.

Everyday there were smallfolk bustling about the main roads into the castle, and it wasn't even a city.

But other than the interesting characters belonging to the Tyrell house, the most interesting part about the castle was the massive Godswood that could be easily sighted from any point on the castle grounds.

That was where my feet were currently taking me to, as I disguised myself to look like my Monk identity.

Early this day I had visited once again the Sept, finally earning a new level for my Paladin and Cleric titles after spending some time praying to the gods in a Balm of Peace.

Merely gaining insight into another fighting style, one I've come to name Blessed Warrior, which focused more in healing and dealing radiant damage.

Not mind blowing, but definitely far from useless.

Dinner after that was fabulous, as you would expect from a Great Lord acting as host to the Crown Prince they were sworn to.

There was beer, wine, pork, chicken, vegetables, and even good looking wenches and servants roaming the halls.

I had left as soon as it was considered polite, leaving Sandor and the other two Lannisters to prepare a few things for my departure tomorrow, intent on exploring the place in case it took me a while to return.

Which obviously included visiting the three weirwood trees I had Shadow locate for me.

Thankfully it was not hard to find my way towards the Godswood, one only had to follow the magnificent garden passages.

Truth be told, it would be easier to find it even without those to guide me.

I evaded being seen getting this close to a Weirwood tree for good measure, making me glad for not bringing my undead Knight with me.

Continuing to follow the path, which was lined with beautiful roses, and other pretty flowers along the way, I had to admit. Lord Tyrell obviously spent a lot of gold and manpower on the upkeep of his Godswood, an odd thing for any southern Lord.

It kind of reminded me of my experience with Raventree Hall, since most of the time, the North was the only region to administer such care.

In fact, most southern castles didn't actually call it 'godswood', but instead just 'gardens'. Obviously, it was because they did not follow nor believed in the Old gods.

I turned a corner in the garden, and suddenly I could finally see it. Even hear them welcoming me.

The Three Singers were indeed large, ancient, and graceful. And given this location's backstory, I would say it was a pretty important place for the religion of the Old Gods.

'It's just like I've told you, master. It's very big!' Shadow remarked to me after climbing to my shoulder, sitting there just like Pikachu did to Ash. 'I've never seen anything like it! It's so beautiful!'

"Indeed." I acknowledged her words while caressing her neck. "That's why I wanted to see it for myself."

I've also come in order to finally progress my Druid title, due to it being a while since I've gained anything from it.

Walking up to it, hoping to have hit the jackpot with this visit while also becoming more curious the closer that I got.

There was no face carved on to them, which was a worrying sign to me, at first. I reached my right and left hand out to touch the one in the middle, still hearing kind words from them.

I wanted to touch them all, to feel my connection with nature grow stronger, so one day I could get any closer to becoming just as, if not more, powerful than the Three Eyed Raven.

Using my Divine and Wild Points, I activated my Balm of Peace and Starry Form, making myself the clear representative of the pact between the Old gods and New.

[TITLE "DRUID" HAS LEVELED UP!]

[YOUR FEATURES HAVE EVOLVED!]

Feeling a different sensation I had felt after bonding with the previous Weirwood trees, I had my hands sliding down from the bark of the tree in the middle and grasped the roots of the other two.

[PRIMAL STRIKES]

*Your attacks in beast form count as magical for the purpose of overcoming resistance and immunity to non magical attacks and damage.]

I grinned in satisfaction.

Now my Wild Shapes could overcome both regular and magical types of protection.

Great!

Oh, and I've just unlocked waterbreathing forms.

*Crab, Octopus, Sea Horse, Quipper, Giant Crab, Reef Shark, Giant Frog, Giant Octopus.

Giant Frog and Octopus?! I need to test it out!

Having Shadow move around to a safe distance, I turned myself into a giant frog, only to be shocked to confirm that I was just as tall as a grown man.

And my jumps…

'Wow!' Shadow exclaimed as I leapt above the trees, shaking the ground on my landing. 'Why was this form locked behind waterbreathing restrictions? Adult frog breath air just like humans.'

Ignoring that doubt for now, I switched to the Shape of a Giant octopus and felt as if all the tree suddenly rushed towards me.

However, the truth was that I was the one who reached out to them, with my massively long tentacles, studded with barbs and suckers with sharp edges, almost toppling several of them.

'Shit, I'm even bigger!' I mentally shouted before turning back to my humanoid form, as a dragon constellation covered my Valyrian features.

'Shouldn't this shape be named Kraken? Is there even a difference in this world?' I questioned myself before shrugging. 'Perhaps it's a squid.'

Next was a boost to my Wild Companion.

[MIGHTY SUMMONER]

*Creatures that you conjure are more resilient than normal. Any summon or creation made by a spell that you cast gains two benefits: The creature appears with more health points than normal and the damage from its natural weapons is considered magical for the purpose of overcoming immunity and resistance to non magical attacks and damage.

This one might be even better, Shadow and my Unseen Servants just got even cooler, I wonder if it also applies to any weapon I make with Minor Conjuration.

Food for thought. Now, onto my next stop.

—————————————————————

(06/12/2021)

(11/12/2021)

(03/06/2022)

*Hope this chapter is of your liking.

Anything you wish to ask or suggest, feel free to do so.

Check out my auxiliary chapter if you still haven't.

Thanks as always for your attention and please be safe.

Any problems with my writing, just point them out and I will correct them as soon as possible.

** Sorry for the constant delays.

*** As for the constant info dumps about the logistics of raising and maintaining a personal army, I will stop with them for a while since most of you seem to not enjoy it that much. 😅 I'm aware that my writing skills aren't that high to make it more of a pleasant reading experience. Sorry if it really bothered you.

**** Shoutout to both fics: "The Ladder" by "Twubs" at Fanfiction.com and "Purple Days" by "barus" at forums.spacebattles.com. Really digging both stories.