The Grandeurs of Youth

- King's Landing, Westeros | 285 AC -

Five years have passed since the birth of the Crown Prince, Artur Baratheon. His birth spelled the cementing of the Baratheon's hold upon the Iron Throne. The young Crown Prince had only recently started his studies with the Grand Maester, his first session was wrought with both surprise and joy.

"You called, Grand Maester?"

Cersei asked as she entered the old man's chambers with her son sitting on a chair as he wrote on a piece of paper.

"Y-Yes your Grace. I have asked of you here because of the Crown Prince's learnings."

"What do you mean, Pycelle? Has anything happened? Is he hurt?"

Cersei walked to her firstborn in haste as she checked every nook and cranny of the boy's body, the Crown Prince already attuned to his mother's overbearing and protective nature.

"Oh no, your Grace. Nothing has happened."

Cersei had wrapped her arms around her son, in a way that a Lioness would protect her cub.

"Then why did you call for me?"

"I must inform you, your Grace. His Grace is greatly astute in his letters and numbers. It is like how his Grace spoke his first words only a few weeks after his birth."

"And how great is my son in his numbers and letters?"

"Extraordinary, marvelous, fantastic. The only word I can truly describe him is a genius. Many of my scribes are taught from the Citadel yet none of them were ever this great in their learnings. Not adding to the fact that his Grace has a curiosity for any and all books."

Cersei smiled at her son and clutched him in her arms as the hug went deeper and deeper.

"Grand Maester."

"Yes, your Grace?"

"Have any books my son wants be sent to his rooms."

"Ah, of course your Grace. It shall be done."

There after, the Queen kissed her son on the forehead and left to do her royal duties as Artur and Pycelle continued their teachings.

Artur I

Artur Baratheon, formerly that of Artureos Uthre-Dunai, had never expected to ever live again. Was this some trick? Some sick curse inflicted on me by the Infernal Ones? Or is it a blessing from His Divine Will, Octareos? He had first thought this was a version of heaven, to be reborn in the grandness that is the will of Octareos, and yet it is not to be.

He had forced his body to grow, sometimes leading to astounding results such as being capable of speaking at a few weeks old and walking at the age of a few months yet the repercussions were violent as many a time did my body fall from fatigue, hence as to why my new mother's protectiveness to me.

It was quite a surreal experience, having the mind and experience of a nearly century old man to becoming an infant. My lessons with Grand Maester Pycelle were resourceful for me, now I know I am not in Eia but a world like it, there was a myth in an old form of the Imperial Faith where it says that Octareos created many different forms and variants of Eia, with different names, different species, maybe I am in one of them.

From the Emperor of the Empire to the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Maybe I am blessed, or cursed, with being a part of an Imperial or Royal Household.

With my recent show of intelligence, I have acquired what I have wanted, a steady supply of books and knowledge. My father's Hand, Jon Arryn, was overjoyed at the sight of me learning and reading, something my own father did not do in his youth. Mother was proud of me, though such a thing happened every second of everyday; Cersei is like the mother of Emrin, a mother who gives so much love and affection to her children but that love blinds her to the arrogance or wrongs her child is doing.

My father, King Robert, had been quite absent in my growth but recently he has shown his wishes of teaching me how to fight and use some weapons, especially the warhammer. In my opinion, I wish to learn as quickly as I can in the arts of the martial fields though my tastes in weaponry consists that of a halberd and a longsword like Ardursblade or even that iresti blade that the 'Oriental Lands,' use, mayhaps I may have some of the smiths in King's Landing forge the blade.

Not adding to the fact that my father was both an alcoholic and a whoremonger, he was an absolute moron in administration and governance. I'm surprised that he's still called King, at the rates of his absence, Jon Arryn is more King than Hand. On the points of his extramarital affairs though, in the eyes of His Divine Will, Octareos, copulation outside of marriage is one of the greatest sins against His eyes. In the Imperial Faith, marriage is seen as the second most sacred vow anyone may take, only behind that of the vow taken by the Octerene, the priests and theologians of the Faith. Though here in Westeros, it was common for men to have their first way before their own wife, down in Dorne it is fine to have a mistress or a 'paramour,' it is even commonplace to have a bastard or two.

My mother, Cersei, had found great sorrow and frustration at my own father's whoring. It became quite horrible one day that, later in the night, I had found her in my chambers, waiting for me. It was there where she had slept, not in her own chambers but my own, clutching onto me as if the Infernal Ones were at our doorsteps, she had complimented me on everything that I did, even if they were the most mundane acts in my eyes, she had kept on calling me her 'Golden Prince.' In all my near century worth of past-life, never did I have an experience with a mother-figure such as this, it was both beautiful and queer.

After that day, mother had continuously come to my chambers to both sleep and relieve her stresses. She had only stopped after Joffrey was born though she had gained a desire for me to always have my studies with Pycelle in her chambers so as to 'see,' my progress, in my eyes, she only wished for me to be with her. 

Though familial concerns weren't my only concerns now. After overhearing a few Small Council meetings, I've discerned that the Seven Kingdoms are in horrifying debts to not just the Iron Bank but also that of my grandfather, Tywin Lannister. Reasons as to why this great economic disaster was because of my own father's debaucheries and vices, not adding to his excessive amounts of Tourneys, each one costing over at least fifty thousand Gold Dragons.

At least Octareos was kind enough to have an adept steward be the Hand, Lord Arryn always tried his best to lower the expenses of the realm. His works allowed the realm to heal in a favorable way with any dissent and rebellion against father being stamped out with the network of alliances and unions. Though the situation wasn't as horrible like in the Empire, at least Westeros doesn't have several invading orc warhosts, vorii infestations, and kathraki incursions, much less an Infernal Invasion, the Provincial-Governers could be bought or be forced to kneel but monsters and demons didn't have any idea what diplomacy was.

In a way, Octareos was kind, I could see many people and things in Westeros. One such example is the Kingsguard and Ser Barristan, much like the 'Imperial Hammers,' and that of their Lord-Comrade, Uthelos. His uncle, Jaime, was akin to Sir Wenstyn Plutis, the man who taught me everything I knew about war, many a time did I go to uncle Jaime to ask questions about his early years as a knight.

Upon my opinions of my brother, Joffrey, mother has had the both of us always together and the result of which has made Joffrey quite dependent of me, some of the Red Keep's servants had once called him a pup, of which he had quite a tantrum about though I reprimanded him and reminded him that as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, his attitude could be perceived as how kind the crown is to the people, after reprimanding Joff, he's started to become kinder and better to the servants.

From my observations, if Joff continued to be dotted on and raised by mother, he'd most likely become a spoilt and annoying brat, hence as to why I have taken it upon myself to teach him manners and some ideals and morals that my first father taught me. Though I might have to each him how to be independent and self-reliant in the future.

- King's Landing, Westeros | 286 AC -

Tywin I

King's Landing. The cesspit of all cesspits, as some would like to call it and in my opinion they wouldn't be wrong. The disgusting and shit atmosphere of the city could be smelt over a mile away. The only thing of worth in this city were the Red Keep, Baelor's Sept, and that of my children and grandchildren.

At this moment, my coming to the capital of the Seven Kingdoms is only because of matters I have with my children, of which one was queen and the other was a glorified bodyguard. At least one of my descendants has an ambition as well as a good head on his shoulders.

If Pycelle's ravens are anything, my grandson is a genius among geniuses. At the age of four, already reading several books not even boys of six and ten could read. One of my goals for this little visit is to see whether or not Pycelle's ramblings are true or superficial.

Arriving at the Red Keep with my retinue, I was greeted by the King and his household. Seeing my children, nothing changed about them, Cersei still had her convincing smile and queenly demeanor, at least she learned a thing or two from me. Jaime, standing beside Ser Barristan 'The Bold,' somewhere he shouldn't be, he should be in Casterly Rock, yet his ambitions only go as high as that of a guard.

Then my eyes moved to two boys, one with raven-black hair and green eyes the color of those precious stones from Yi Ti, the other, hiding behind the former, had gold blonde hair and emerald green eyes. These were my grandchildren, Artur Baratheon and Joffrey Baratheon. I've heard many things from the two, both from Pycelle and Cersei though Cersei's letters were more prideful writing than informative. Joffrey's stance told me he already knew to fear me, like a dog, he hid behind his elder, though the latter was another story. Artur stood in mere silence, waiting for someone to speak or someone to do something, his stance gave off a regality and confidence that only a few men had, like a true lion, he faced dangers and threats with confidence but not foolishness.

Turning to Robert and Jon Arryn. The former only change a bit with age, still the same man he saw with Robert and Need Stark but Robert changed extremely, his physique did not match that of his former self as his body gained a mild fatness, so small it was that it was almost impossible to see.

Walking to the front of Robert, I knelt as my retinue did the same.

"Your Grace."

"Lord Tywin."

"It is my honor to come to this city."

"You are welcomed, my Lord. Bring out the bread and salt!"

Then servants came out with trays of bread and salt, a tradition to show the right of hospitality in Westeros, something that can be deeply exploited in future situations.

Several hours later, I would depart from the Lannister estate in King's Landing after leaving my retinue there. With a few guards at my back, I arrived at the Red Keep and requested an audience with Her Grace and my son.

"Father."

Both said as they stood from their seats. Moving to my own, we all sat down in unison.

"Why did you wish to meet us, father?"

"On the morrow, I wish to break fast with my grandsons."

"I see, we will dine in my chambers, Robert has a hunt in the Kingswood in the early hours."

"Jaime."

"Yes, father?"

"I will reopen the argument. With a few words from Cersei, Robert will have you be honourably discharged from the Kingsguard, you shall gain Casterly Rock and any wife of your choosing."

At that, both my children's features turned from happy to mild annoyance and melancholy.

"If you leave the Kingsguard, House Lannister shall have the heir it has always wanted. If you think you aren't capable, an administrator, Tyrion shall assist you, as spiteful and lust-filled he is, he's learned how to be a good steward."

"I don't want to leave. I swore an oath to live as a Kingsguard and die protecting my king."

"And if I recall correctly, you killed your king by the vows of a knight. And by those same vows you shall listen to your father."

After those words, Jaime kept silent, my gaze never leaving him, the room kept silent for a few seconds until Cersei broke it.

"Father, I don't think it's an appropriate time."

My gaze never leaving Jaime as his eyes wandered the floor.

"Reconsider, Jaime. We could establish a line of Kings and Queens, Lannister blood shall sit on the throne, I only need an adequate heir to Casterly Rock."

My eyes, turned to Cersei.

"Have your boys know that they shall dine with their grandfather on the morrow. This visit wasn't just about making Jaime reconsider, if he won't maybe Joffrey shall be the one to inherit my legacy."

Then I left, both Cersei and Jaime were too shocked at my words to say anything. If I can't have the heir I want, I'll make him.