Saying Goodbyes and Receiving A Cloak

And here I was, being held by three crying blonde people.

One, the most obvious, was my mother. She was crying quietly but from her trembling limbs and shoulders, it was clear to know she was crying even as she was leaning her head on my armored shoulder.

The other two were my favored younger siblings, Myrcella and Tommen. Two people who I actually treated like family. For all intents and purposes, despite my mental age, these two were like my actual siblings. Or rather, I treated them like actual siblings. Which meant, they were quite attached to me.

With should've been obvious considering their young age. But, despite my knowledge, they were actually older than they should've been.

I figured this out when they were born a few years before their cannon births. Which led me to searching for other differences. I found quite a few.

My mother and uncle were born earlier than they were supposed to be - coincidentally in the same year as Robert. Robert and Cersei were married straight after the Rebellion had ended, a move forced by Jon Arryn to secure Tywin Lannister's help for the broken economy after the shaky civil war the Kingdoms had undergone.

Speaking of the rebellion, it actually ended a few months earlier than it should have.

The Rebellion was started in the first few months of 282 AC and was put to an end on the last month of 282 AC. I was born in 283 AC, the same year as Robb Stark and Jon Snow. Which meant the current year was 296 AC, two years before Jon Arryn's death - except there was no indication that Jon Arryn was beginning to investigate the legitimacy of my father's 'children'. I wouldn't be surprised if he investigated my own claim. He always looks at me weirdly whenever he sees me, like he's looking at someone he once knew a long time ago.

I'd spoken to Ser Barristan Selmy about it, one of my tutors when it came to fighting tactics, and he'd mentioned how much I looked like Rhaegar...which honestly explained my father's dislike of me and how the rumors about my conception are still able to continue.

Though, he did mention, that there were definite shows of me being the King's child. From my strong jawline to my bright blue eyes and finally my bigger than average and robust build.

Alas, that didn't mean people ever saw that. They only ever saw how much I resembled Rhaegar.

Whatever, I'm getting off track. What I mean to say is that people's ages are different - more specifically, my siblings ages. Certain events seem to be slightly different as well, so I'm wondering on the legitimacy of my own foreknowledge. For all I know, Jon Arryn may not die in two years. Which means I have to re-evaluate how I'm going to precede from now on.

If I have a longer time to prepare, I'll take it. But, at the same time, I'll come back as soon as Jon Arryn dies. I'm sure I'll be called back at that point anyway.

The orders say I only have to go around the Seven Kingdoms for two years but if Jon Arryn doesn't die after two years, I'll continue hunting monsters until he does. Who am I to deny extra training for the fuckery to come? I need to prepare myself fully.

I don't plan to let Ned Stark die, and the only way I can get him exempt from his supposed crimes, is through a trial by combat. It'll put me at odds with my mother and uncle, but a little bit of family drama is much better than a full-fledged war between the North and the South. Besides, I need to play for the long game - the White Walkers and their army, I need to prepare for them if anything else.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, I listened to my younger siblings sob as I looked over at my other younger sibling.

Joffrey. He was a year younger than me, making him 12-years-old, and he was nothing like me in appearance - or our father, for that matter.

He was slender and lanky, with spindly limbs that seemed to lack strength. His skin was somewhat tanned from all his time out in the gardens but other than that it was unblemished in the same way his hands were soft and delicate like he'd never swung a weapon before - which he hadn't. Mother had forbade him after he got hurt in a spar with me. Even after I held back as much as I could.

He just wasn't built for fighting.

But that didn't stop him from looking at me with a smug look of superiority, and despite being taller than him, he still tried to look down at me - it just made him look mentally deficient, however.

Though, I ignored him when I heard Myrcella, who was 10-years-old, speak through a sob, "D-do you really-really have to go, brother?" she looked up at me with her bright green eyes, her appearance looking almost uncannily like a younger version of our mother.

Putting those thoughts aside, however, I gave an apologetic smile as I nodded, "Yes, I have to go. I've been Knighted and given an important responsibility by the King to keep the Seven Kingdoms safe, besides--" I said before gently lifting up all three of them, eliciting yips and yelps from all three, "--You should know by know how strong I am, Myrcella. I'm the strongest big brother in the Seven Kingdoms, right?" I asked, sending a disdainful look to Joffrey, obviously making a dig at his weakness, but also genuinely trying to reassure the three in my arms.

I slowly lowered the three of them back down and Myrcella looked up at me with a pout and teary eyes, "Yes...you are, but you still have to be careful!" she began nagging, the only trait she'd inherited from mother beside her beauty.

Tommen, who'd been fully placated by my reassuring, looked up at me with teary eyes filled with wonder before he looked to Myrcella before talking with a frown, "Brother won't get killed by some stupid monster, Myrcella! He's gonna be one of those legendary Knights stories are written about!" my youngest brother simultaneously defended me and hyped me up. How precious--is what I would say if he hadn't been balling his eyes out, 100% sure I was going to die about five seconds ago.

Myrcella, who also realized this stuck her tongue out at Tommen, "You were also crying just now, crybaby Tommen! Crybaby!" and so started the bickering between the two youngest siblings. Truly, this is the side of siblings they never show you in the media. Endless bickering.

"Enough," came the stern voice of our mother, who had dried her eyes, "Your brother needs to get going now, and we have said our goodbyes," she said, her eyes dry but still red and puffy as she tried her best to imitate Tywin with a stony face. Except, unlike his impenetrable stone-like expression, mother's face looked like cracked like talc - like a stiff breeze could make her cry again.

But with this, I slowly let go of them and mother practically dragged Tommen and Myrcella away from me. I just gave them a wide smile before my uncle stepped forward, a red cloak draped over his outstretched arms.

"My farewell present for you, nephew," he smiled, "Made from some pretty sturdy fur from a rare breed of Lion down in Dorne. Obviously, it's of a better quality than the rest of the Order's cloaks, so it should do to signify that you're the leader," he explained and I smiled in return as I unclipped the plain white cloak I was currently wearing and passed it off to the side to a nearby servant. Taking the offered present, I unfurled it and looked at it in all it's glory.

The cloak was a pure red and the back of it had an altered sigil on the back: a black lion with impressive antlers poking from it's head. It certainly looked impressive.

The bottom and middle portion of the cloak had been specifically made to look like a regular cloak, but as you reached the portion of the cloak that would rest on the shoulders and upper back of the wearer, the standard look of the cloak deviated and looked like a Lion's mane of fur. It looked quite majestic.

Flipping the cloak over, I flung it around my body and clipped it to my armor. The cloak seemed a little big and dragged somewhat on the floor but I'd grow into it. I'd just have to remember to take it off before combat until that time comes.

The red coloring went well with the silver-white metal of my armor and the black under-armor I was wearing. My armor looked somewhat like Artoria/Lancer's armor, just without the exaggerated shoulder pauldrons.

"It's perfect, uncle. Thank you," I gave a courteous half-bow to Jaime who smiled even wider knowing I liked his gift, "I assume you asked uncle Tyrion for the sourcing of the materials and for who could make it?" I asked curiously as I felt the tough yet soft red mane that now ran along both of my shoulders, looking a little too big for my size right now. Again, I'd just have to grow into the cloak.

...I still pulled it off pretty well, though.

Jaime looked somewhat embarrassed and averted his gaze, "Why do you say that? I can do all that on my own, you know?" he said, more to himself and those around us than to me.

Though mother didn't look very amused that Jaime had been 'colluding' with the famed Impish Dwarf. From the slight frown, I could see she felt somewhat annoyed by my enjoyment of a gift from someone she hated so much.

My relationship was actually pretty good with Tyrion. I was quite sure he'd be off with me because I was everything he wasn't, and this was before he got the majority of his character development - so I thought he'd be envious or jealous of me. But, surprisingly, he wasn't. In fact, the two of us could bond quite easily over the fact that both of our fathers acted like we didn't exist. It was also a benefit that I didn't treat Tyrion any less because of his dwarfism - I just treated him like a normal person. Which was massively different to how most people treated him.

"Because other than swinging a sword or using a lance, you're quite pitiful at most things, dear uncle," I laughed goodheartedly at my uncle and he seemed like he wanted to argue but couldn't really find a good counter-argument. Sighing, I looked around before speaking in a lower volume, "I assume Tyrion wished to be here but was stopped by 'unfortunate' circumstances? I asked.

Jaime's troubled expression was all I needed for an answer. Mother had no doubt wanted Tyrion far away from my farewell, and she'd most likely done whatever was needed to keep him away.

Well, anything except killing or crippling him.

Sighing, I shook my head, "Give him my good wishes then, uncle. Tell him I'll bring him back a wealth of information about monsters," I smiled slightly, thinking about my other uncle's voracious appetite when it came to reading.

Jaime nodded and then things went quiet between us. In the end, I just pulled him in for a manly hug.

He was taller than me but it wasn't as wide a disparity as the height difference between my father and I. Jaime was 6'2" and I was 5'8" - which meant the hug was far less awkward than if I tried to hug Tyrion or a man of Robert's massive height. Jaime, while surprised by the sudden hug, still gave me two strong pats on the back, which I returned before we separated.

The manliest of hugs.

Taking a step back, I looked at my family. Or, most of my family anyway. It wasn't the best family but it was now mine, so I'd protect it the best I could.

Nodding to them, I turned on my heel and walked to a nearby white stallion than had been prepared for me. It was bare of supplies and my weapons, but they were in a carriage with the rest of my men, so this horse was really just to look good and be fast.

Hoisting myself up, I resisted looking back at my family and motioned for the horse to go forward.

I had 250 men under my command but I knew I'd need more in the future. A lot of this 250 will die after a few run-ins with Hill or Cave Trolls. Let alone Summer Giants, the hairless counterpart of the Giants from beyond the wall. So, the first thing I'm going to do, is recruit people. Orphans - regardless of their gender - will be the best bet. Promising them food and essential weapons training should be enough.

Train them to be monster hunters. The ones that survive will come out of this has brilliant fighters. Both against monsters and humans.

In no time, I arrived near the carriages, carts and soldiers all draped in plain metal armor with red cloaks flowing off their backs. Those that saw me stood to attention and made the others who hadn't seen me do the same. Looking over the men under my command, I took in a deep breath: this had been forced on me but that doesn't mean I'm gonna half-ass it.

I'm gonna make an order of monster hunters that'll go down in history.

"Gather up! We need to head out as soon as possible!" I roared, surprising a few people with the volume of my voice and the deepness of it despite my relatively younger age, "We've got some monsters to kill!" I followed it up, wanting to gauge their reactions.

A few people flinched or looked troubled or fearful of what I said...but quite a few people looked excited. Good. Let's see if I can forge 'em into something decent.

Smiling to myself, I rode at a calm trot toward the front of the whole procession.

I was gonna make something fun out of this bad situation.