FirstMen? No, ConMen!

{MC POV}

In the beyond, from where I came from, I used to love reading about those intelligent people who swindled their way to fortune. Some even daring enough to 'sell' internationally recognizable monuments.

Conmen they were called, though most usually would get caught eventually. The world from beyond had stricter laws. People traded in their freedom to bind everyone with these laws there. It was like a magicless seal really. At the cost of everyone's freedom.

But just like a magical seal, those laws had the same flaw that the ones with enough power or resources could just ignore the rules.

Why am I thinking all this? Well, I am suddenly reminded of this one kid I met back in Westeros, he was a charismatic one and a conman to the bones. Following him was an experience as thrilling as walking into the depths of Sothoryos.

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{Third POV}

Long before the Valyrians found those dragon eggs and went from sheep herders to dragon riders and even before the Andals invaded the land of Westeros, there were just the first men in Westeros.

Although, the first men themselves were also invaders into the lands of Westeros which belonged to the old gods, giants, and children of the forest. The first men came through the land bridge that connected the lands of Dorne to Essos.

Although after the invasion and war between the first men and the original inhabitants, the old gods called upon the children of the forest, and their old friend Raven the human, to destroy said land bridge.

After the arrival of Raven, the war that was not in the favor of the children quickly ended with both sides forming a pact. The children and the giants went into the forests and the first men built their kingdoms.

In the fertile lands of what later came to be known as the Reach, Garth Greenhand took the seat of power as the king of all the first men. He did so with his powerful nature magic. How he came to possess such magic? That's a tale for another time.

Garth had many children from his many wives and they gave birth to many other children. With the Reach's bountiful harvests, the population kept growing and so started the rise of many different houses in the lands of Westeros.

Among all the houses created by children of the king and men who claimed the lands with their strength; there appeared a house almost out of thin air, created by one man alone using his wits and swindling. The House of Lann.

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{Lann POV}

"Bastard Lann!" They say. Mocking voices, trying to find whatever meager pleasure they can at my expense. Makes them forget the shit and mud they live in I suppose.

I endure. Ever since I was able to think for myself when I was but a babe suckling on the teats of the village women who took pity on me, I have endured. I know I'm no warrior. I tried swinging a bronze sword once. I knew right when I held the hilt, it wasn't for me.

I was but an ordinary boy abandoned by his parents. If not for my good looks I don't think I would have lived to be 6 and 10 years of age. Who would care for an ugly abandoned babe?

So, I learned to endure. The people around me are too simple-minded, they think revenge only happens when you immediately take up a sword to charge at your enemy. No, I wait. For days, weeks, many moons or years if needed.

What matters is I took revenge. Just like those three little Rowan shits. Just because their grandfather is the King they think they can do whatever. Tormenting me was their pastime even when they had only passed 5 name days.

It took me almost 8 years but I finally succeeded in my revenge though. It was common knowledge that Rowan Gold-Tree the king's daughter liked the company of men after her lover's betrayal. She had had quite a few bastards and abandoned them.

After that, it was only a matter of finding a man that looked even remotely like me and who had slept with Rowan a year before his birth. After 3 years of searching, young me who had just passed 8 namedays was finally able to find one.

It was easy to find a poison berry and slip it into the man's food. The harder part came afterward. I took the corpse of my 'father' to the Rowan House and pleaded to Lady Rowan.

I had observed how my appearance could make people keep their guard down. What would such a young and cute boy even do to them? I was as harmless as a soft, fluffy lamb.

"Mo- mothe-, Lady Rowan, you don't have to be my mother but can I stay in your house? Everyone beats me. They call me names….." I cried as tears and snot flowed while I told my sad tale while kneeling in front of the dead body of my 'father'.

Even now I wonder how much of my act of grief was an act and how much was real if it was. But it worked. My golden locks and my sweet and cute-looking face had some part to play in her agreement I'm sure but she agreed to keep me as an attendant to her children.

My initial plan was to slowly kill off her heirs and take over but another opportunity presented itself when I found out I was proficient in the arithmetics and runes that were being taught to the heirs while I stood by the side observing them.

After my talent was found out while I was trying to copy the runes in the mud, I was taught the runes and arithmetic. It was so that I could serve the House Rowan well my 'mother' once told me. And so I did. I learned everything I could.

"By the gods! You could even become a disciple of Master Raven with that clever head of yours." The master had told me back then.

Master Raven was supposedly a wise sage and a friend of those giants and the children of the forest. He had been the one to teach the runes, magic, simple arithmetic and so much to the first men.

I wished I could become his disciple too, maybe I could learn magic. But there was one magic I could do. Every time anything about Master Raven was written down, the runes would disappear by themselves. I used to love acting like a mage while watching the words disappear.

After I turned 12 name days, I was put under Goldfinger Foss, the one responsible for looking after the gold and treasures of House Rowan.

I knew this was my opportunity. Just some more time and I would have all the wealth of the Rowans within my reach.

I continued playing the part of the helpless victim for the Rowan kids and the role of a dutiful and dedicated bastard for my mother. I endured like always for another two years until I had more control over the wealth.

Then, tragedy struck, Goldfinger Foss fell off a window of the castle one day and just happened to land on the sharp rocks brought in for some construction work for the garden.

In the next two years, I had full control over Rowan House's wealth. I took some from here, some from there and no one ever found out for a whole year. But it couldn't be hidden forever, so I made an accomplice out of the youngest Rowan.

As the one furthest from succession, his situation would only be slightly better off than my own, or so I whispered. Sowing discord amongst the siblings who already fought often was easy. And so, the youngest Rowan started to learn to 'manage' the wealth under me.

Our 'mother' was very pleased at the development. Until one day, six moons after learning to 'manage' wealth the youngest Rowan disappeared with half the gold the Rowan house had made in the past 5 years.

I then fell into illness because of the sadness at the crime that happened under my watch. So, I was relieved of my duties. I went back to the village and soon 'disappeared' to go find the lost Rowan and the wealth.

And here I am, moving westwards beyond the western hills where there is supposedly a lot of gold waiting to be unearthed beneath the ground.

On my carriage, hidden beneath all the wares and foodstuff for the travel is the gold the youngest Rowan left behind after he accidentally died by falling on a bronze spear.

'Death appears in mysterious ways when you have wealth and not the power to protect it.' I mused at the words of the 'bard' I am currently traveling with.

"But of course, it is a musical instrument, and I am a humble bard who travels finding stories to sing about. Just like Jaskier I who followed Geralt of Rivia, I his successor Jaskier II shall follow you Lann the Clever on your adventures and makes songs of it."

The 'bard' who called himself Jaskier had told me. When I asked why he called me Lann the Clever, the bard laughed, "For your eyes shine with a clever light. And your carriage golden one."

I was alarmed and ready to pounce at him at that but the bard raised his hands in submission right away.

"I am no fighter, I can barely muster the strength to play this lute let alone fight you to take away your wealth. To me, stories worthy to be sung about are far more precious than your shiny rocks boy."

That answer had calmed me down, he did look sickly. But still, his tone was that of an old man even though he didn't look any more than 30. After numerous failed attempts at chasing him away, I decided to give up and stay cautious of him.

While I was thinking of the day's events, sitting in front of the fire, staring at the dancing flames, the bard started making some sounds.

"It's too silent and depressing here, let me sing you a song from the distant future. A song of your own blood." The bard once again said things that hardly made sense. And then he sang.

He sang a beautiful song as I watched the fires dance…..

"He rode through the streets of the city,

Down from his hill on high,

O'er the wynds and the steps and the cobbles,

He rode to a woman's sigh.

For she was his secret treasure,

She was his shame and his bliss.

And a chain and a keep are nothing,

Compared to a woman's kiss

For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm

For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm….."