32 Ch. 1 Arrival
The Third Day of the Second Moon, of the year 298 After Conquest
Sitting atop my destrier gave me a great view of the area. The ocean glimmered and shined in the midday sun, and the small trees hypnotically swayed in the breeze. The sight almost made me not curse the breeze. For carried on that breeze was the overpowering scent of shit. The cumulative feces and urine of five-hundred thousand people gathered in one location.
The sight of King's Landing is rather disappointing. The three hills inside the tall walls of the city are dominated by massive structures. The Hill of Rhaenys, in the northern area of the city, is home of the collapsed ruins of the Dragonpit. Visenya's Hill, the hill closest to the Lion Gate, is adorned by the marble-walled Great Sept of Baelor and its seven crystal towers. And then there's the Red Keep taking up all of Aegon's High Hill in the furthest corner of the city.
Despite these towering and artful structures, the view is dominated by the red-tiled roofs of the smaller buildings that nearly blend into one. The homes and shops of the city are built as close as possible to one another. However, while the alleys and lanes are narrow and winding, the main roads appear to be wide and lined with green-leafed trees.
Small ramshackle huts and buildings are crowded on the outside of the city, freeing up additional space behind the walls. The brackish waters of the Blackwater Rush only help accentuate how dreary and sad the city is. The only thing I see in this city is failure and corruption.
"Having second thoughts?" Tywin Lannister asked from beside me.
"No," I said as I kicked my mount into a walk down the Goldroad. "I need experience in the Game, and this shit smelling city is the best place to play," I told my uncle.
"The stakes will be higher, the schemes grander, and danger lurks in every corner," Tywin warned when he brought his destrier alongside mine.
"I have earned the respect and approval of every lord in the Westerlands," I plainly state. "But outside of our lands, most still view me as a boy good at knocking people off their horses. That is not enough to sway others from running to the Targaryens when they finally cross the sea," I said with a bit of annoyance in my voice.
I've spent the last three years refining the Legion and increasing my own skill. At ten-thousand soldiers, we have the finest fighting force in all of Westeros. Our training regime will allow our levies to stand well above the smallfolk in any other kingdom. But despite my best efforts, we will not be able to stand alone when the War of Five Kings begins. We need more allies or fewer enemies.
That is my true goal of coming to King's Landing now. I plan to participate in the tourney for Joffrey's name-day in a fortnight, and I will stay behind to learn what I can about the members of the Small Council. I'm not sure if Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon began investigating Robert's bastards on their own or if Baelish was the cause of it. With any luck, they have started their investigation.
A small crowd was gathering at the end of the Goldroad, just before the Lion Gate. Seeing that the forming group of smallfolk was only trying to get a look at the large number of soldiers, I turned my attention back to the gate. The barbican stood tall and wide. You could even see a lion engraved into the stone above the gate opening.
As we approached the Lion Gate, the Gold Cloaks stationed at the gate immediately began to order the smallfolk out of our way. The Lannister banners flying behind Tywin and myself were all the identification the guards needed. I caught an equal number of awed looks from the city watch and peasants alike.
In all honesty, we were an impressive sight. Four hundred members of the Legion rode behind the standard-bearers. Everyone armed and armored, including myself and Tywin. Although I don't think Tyrion or Tyrek have a stitch of armor on themselves, I've not seen either one since we awoke this morning.
Entering King's Landing, the smell only worsens. The scent of unwashed bodies is added to the odor of human waste. How the hell could Robert of Jon Arryn not have fixed the sewer system in the fifteen odd years they've ruled.
I try to distract myself from the smell by reviewing everything I remember from the show and books. If I'm not mistaken, canon Lancel arrived in King's Landing during this time as well.
While we are officially coming to King's Landing for Joffrey's thirteenth name-day, that's not the only reason. Cersei has asked for an entire company from the Legion to guard the Royal Family, instead of the fifty Lannister man already in the Red Keep. Half of the soldiers traveling with us will be staying in King's Landing after Tywin returns to Casterly Rock.
Tyrek and I will also be staying behind. Cersei convinced King Robert Baratheon to accept Tyrek Lannister as his squire, and I'll remain to get to know my future bride. Princess Myrcella may only be six years younger than me, but she's only ten name-days old right now.
The main reason I'll be staying in King's Landing isn't to get to know my future wife or to gain experience in politics. It's to use the rest of my metaknowledge to the fullest.
Other than advancing the military and a small trade war with Pentos, little has happened beyond our expectations. The ships owned by Magister Illyrio Mopatis have been targeted by our own fleet but, it wasn't enough to alter the plans of the cheesemonger.
Last month, our spies informed us that Daenerys Targaryen was wed to Khal Drogo of the Dothraki. Despite the death of Fake Aegon and Jon Connington, Varys hasn't made any noticeable plays. I suspect Illyrio and Varys will make sure she is better protected than in canon. In fact, tasking Varys with sending assassins after the Targaryens will probably be a waste of breath.
The Game has already started. And when you play the Game of Thrones, you either win, or you die. There is no middle ground.
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Queen Cersei Lannister stood atop a platform in front of the Red Keep awaiting the arrival of her family. Prince Joffrey stood to her right, and Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen patiently stood on the Queen's left. Standing slightly behind the Royal Family was Jaime Lannister and the heavily scarred Sandor Clegane.
A cold smile spread across the face of the Queen when the Lannister party entered into the Red Keep courtyard. Her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, lead the procession on a black destrier. As intimidating as Lord Tywin appeared in full armor, Queen Cersei's attention was pulled to the second rider.
The gold and silver inlaid armor of the second rider looked fit for a king. Watching him effortlessly dismount the huge warhorse, Cersei was surprised by his looks. His nose was sharp, and he had a strong jaw and chin. The young man's eyes were a hypnotic green that would cause the infatuation of many young women. He was every bit as handsome as her brother Jaime.
It took Cersei a moment to identify the second rider as Lancel Lannister. Her daughter's chosen betrothal had become a man since she last saw him. As Lord Tywin and Lancel began climbing the stairs to the Royal Family, Cersei took note of how tall Lancel is. She would guess he was nearly as tall as her husband, the king.
Cersei glanced at her daughter and smiled at the clueless look on Princess Myrcella's face. The Princess may be too young to understand who Lancel is to her, but Cersei was sure her daughter would thank her in a few short years.
Cersei turned to welcome her family with a genuine smile on her face. Things have just become far more interesting than she previously expected.
