Chapter 3

POV Change- Ser Barristan Selmy:

Ser Barristan Selmy looked on in amazement for he had never see the scene in front of him before. Not in all his years as a knight or Kings guard, not even when he watched Ser Arthur Dayne grow and blossom into the legendary swordsman he is known to be today. That is how absurd the scene in front of him was.

A boy of ten- and two-name days parrying and cornering a seasoned knight, tried, and tested by war.

Barristan knew that he would never be able to mimic the feat in front of him if he were a young lad of the same age as the one in front of him.

Alexander Baratheon eldest son of King Robert Baratheon, he looked the same as his father when you looked passed the silver-black hair and mismatching eyes. It was the sharp jaw and the size of the lad that gave away his ancestry but if you still had doubts just looking into his right eye would show you the Baratheon in him.

The boy was tall for his age, taller than any boy his age had the right to be and with the added benefit of being very athletically endowed as well as strong.

The seasoned knight watched on as the younger knight slashed at the young prince and saw an impressive parry from the prince before the boy brought his sword up and around to rest at the neck of the young knight faster than any eye could see.

After seeing the impressive move Ser Barristan had to admit that the prince was the best swordsmen, he had ever had the privilege see train.

Ser Barristan watched on silently as the prince helped his defeated opponent up from the ground before the prince spun round and made his way to the seasoned knight.

"How was I?" the prince looked up and asked the old Kings guard.

Ser Barristan had a thousand thought run through his mind, if it had been anyone else, he would have had a hundred different things he could improve upon but the lad before him had not long ago cut through half the kings guard like he was carving a cake. The scene would haunt him for life, the way the boy moved was too effortless and fluid like a dancer. The boy in front of him was the true painter who only used red.

"There is nothing to improve upon my prince, I dare say you are the best swordsmen in the realm."

Even now Ser Barristan knew not what came over him to give advice to the walking disaster, he had only been charged with watching the boy and making sure he stayed far away from the crown prince and his mother. But now he found himself giving what little advice he had for the young boy.

Deep down the old, seasoned Kings guard secretly wished the boy standing before him would be his next king but alas that did not seem to be the boy's future.

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POV change- Alexander Baratheon (12):

It had been twelve years since my rebirth and many things had occurred over the years. First was the birth of my younger brother and now Crown Prince, Joffrey Baratheon (Lannister/Waters) and we hate each other, got along as well as oil and water did. He would call me the 'Mad King come again' and I him a bastard and all forms of other insults. My youngest siblings (Myrcella and Tommen) and myself got along excellently I sang for them, brought them gifts, and mad a jumble of different toys and games for them to play. I do believe I was their favourite.

My mother on the other hand ignored me most of the time preferring to spend her time pampering Joffrey and the only time she did speak to me was when she was reprimanding me for insulting or beating Joffrey. Though the only quality time we spent together was when she ordered my floggings as punishment for a blend of different things mostly pertaining to Joffrey though.

My father on the other hand I had not seen hid or hair of until the day I barged into the throne room and attempted to remove Joffrey's head from his shoulders for one of his worst slights against me to date.

Despite all the cruelty, neglect, and hatred from my family I had set myself as a genius from young be it in combat or knowledge. At the age of 6 I devised a plan to bring drinkable water to the realm and her people, my people. The contraption I 'invented' was the 'Boiling Pot' as it was dubbed by noble and common folk alike. The building was built and connected to any source of water be it river or the sea. It would collect water from the body of water closest to it and boil it till it turned to water vapour, the vapour would then travel through the many pipes and into another pot where when cooled overnight there would be drinkable water for the people. I had the crown charge three copper and other kingdoms five and the crown collects two as tax.

Despite all my genius and good intentions my mother still sent me away to The Rock on my seventh name day to page for my grandfather. So, I spent four years with the 'Old Lion' and learnt all he could teach before I was sent back to the Red Keep and even then, I had no welcome party so when I decided to start making my moves, I had no regrets.

I had already freed the brotherhood (Assassins Creed) from my dimension when I was three so by now, they had spread far and wide, they found themselves in all the great houses of Westeros as well as the free cities in the east. I received hawks and eagles with plenty of secrets, if you had a secret to hide chances are I knew it already.

I had used these secrets to purchase inns, taverns, and warehouses. Some were 'gifts' others were bought at a discount, but it mattered not for slowly but surely my influence spread and my business grew. With the extra coin I had constructed orphanages and clinics, I had all my establishment maned by my people from my dimension so that loyalty was never a question.

My influence grew slow but steady throughout the years, but I feel I could have set myself back due to an emotional outburst, but I was never one to dwell on mistakes, so I looked to the future and how to make the most of my situation.

But none of that mattered now, I had to prepare myself for the beast I would face. My father the king had called me to his solar and for the first time in my life I would converse with him.

I slowly reached out and knocked on the wooden door and waited.

"Enter."

I heard his voice boom from the other side, so I slowly reached for the door and pushed it open and said the first words I had ever spoken to my father.

"You called your grace."