Ch. 3 Becoming a Page

As my father escorts me to Lord Tywin's solar, I can't seem to get rid of the nervous-knot in my stomach. I feel like I know enough of the man from the shows, to know he won't kill me if I mess up. But the series, also let me know that I can expect harsh corrective measures.

That's not so bad, I guess.

The fact that my father looks like he's about to break out in dance with joy at any moment doesn't lend much comfort.

Doesn't he realize not everyone sees Tywin Lannister the same way he does?

The trip to the Lord's Solar ends all too soon for my liking. A guard positioned in front of the lion engraved door, steps inside, and announces our arrival. Father and I do not have to wait to be granted entrance.

I guess Lord Tywin is expecting us.

Stepping into the solar proper, I spot signs of wealth everywhere. Gold and ivory figures adorn every flat surface, and every piece of furniture is heavily engraved. There are beautiful silk tapestries hung on the walls, and the floor is covered with an expensive wool carpet.

The overall look of the room is both elegant and prestigious. But the most prestigious thing in the room is not any of the decorations. It's the man behind the desk, seating in the gold-covered throne.

Wearing a red leather doublet with gold embroidery, one could easily mistake Tywin for royalty. He's only missing a crown.

Oddly enough, his clothes and jewels are not the most impressive thing about him.

No. No, it's the sharp, calculating stare that commands your attention.

I don't doubt he has been evaluating and judging me since I walked through the doors. Being under such a scrutinizing gaze only heightens the knot in my stomach.

Fortunately, I have enough presence of mind to immediately fall into a short bow when father and I stop in front of Tywin's desk.

I hold the bow until I catch the shifting of my father's body, signaling that he has straightened from his bow.

Looking up from the ground, I'm met with the most intense stare I've ever witnessed. My drill instructors couldn't hold a candle to this man!

It's a bit of a struggle, but I hold his gaze, refusing to be cowed so easily.

After the hardest moment of my current life, my father's words give me the excuse to back out of the impromptu staring contest. I look up to his face and notice a slight smirk.

"My lord, I present to you, my son, Lancel." Pride could be heard in father's tone.

"Thank you, Kevan. You may return to your business," Tywin softly says, giving father a curt nod of recognition.

Father gives Tywin a nod of his head and softly runs his hand down the back of my head as he turns to leave. Father often makes these little gestures of affection, but I'm surprised he did it in front of Tywin. Was that meant to be some subtle message to his brother? Or am I looking too deep into things?

Having no other choice, I put aside my questions and return my gaze to Lord Tywin.

Fortunately, Tywin is no longer staring at me so intensely. But there's still a calculating look in his eyes. I wouldn't doubt if that's become a permanent look for him.

After a brief moment, Tywin finally breaks the silence. "Tell me, boy, do you know why you are here?" Tywin asks with a deep tone of voice.

"I am to be your page, my lord," I immediately answer.

"And do you know what that means?" Tywin fires back.

"I am to serve you to the best of my abilities. To assist you by completing mundane tasks that would otherwise burden you. In exchange for my meager service, I will be given lessons in combat and lordship, my lord." I answer with a rehearsed line.

Under the scrutinizing gaze of Tywin, I do my best not to squirm about. It's surprisingly harder than I imagined. Damn, is he intimidating?

"You may see such tasks as mundane or tedious, but they are invaluable to the larger whole. If the rumors of your intelligence prove true, you just may come to understand why certain actions are taken." Tywin lectures in his deep voice.

I can't help but nod my head in agreement. I really do think I know what he's referring to. This actually reminds me of a quote from my previous life. "To ensure peace, one must prepare for war." I quietly state aloud.

Tywin's eyes instantly narrow, and I'm suddenly under the piercing gaze of the Warden of the West. "Tell me, boy, what do you know of war?" Tywin demands.

Resisting the urge to gulp, I softly shake my head. I didn't mean to say that out loud. Trying to sound as calm as possible, I quickly answer. "Nothing, my lord. You've not taught me, yet."

Tywin's gaze still has me locked in place, but there's a contemplative look in his pale green eyes. I'm not sure what he's thinking, but after a moment, he lifts his gaze and leans back into his small throne-like chair.

Tywin glances towards a handsome bookcase, "You can read, yes?"

"I am fluent in Common, my lord, but I am still learning High Valyrian," I said with a nod of my head.

Tywin glances at me for a second before returning his gaze to the bookcase. "Fetch me that book over there, 'Strategies and Tactics'," Tywin commands.

"Yes, my lord," I said, as I begin to walk towards the bookcase.

"And Lancel," Tywin calls in a surprisingly calm tone. "When we are alone, you may call me uncle."

************************************

The Fourth Day of the Third Moon, of the year 289 A.C.

For the past two fortnights, my interactions with Tywin have been stressful, to say the least.

My first day serving as Lord Tywin's page, he grilled me for over an hour on his expectations and my duties. He released me for the day after ordering me to begin reading 'Strategies and Tactics'.

When Tywin found out I finished reading the book in a single day, his reaction was predictable. He spent the entire morning questioning and lecturing me on the applications mentioned by the author.

While I was able to answer most of the questions to his satisfaction, I couldn't answer all of them, to my great confusion. I thought I would have perfect recall...

Unfortunately, my wrong answers resulted in me having to hand-write the chapters Lord Tywin felt I needed to study more. This way, I would have my own copy to examine at my leisure.

I learned several lessons with that. Mostly, read everything Lord Tywin gives me three times because that is far faster than writing out fifty pages.

To be honest, I'm not sure where I stand with Tywin. I'm not even sure how to address him in my own head! And he speaks to me as if I'm four times my actual age. I know, I've watched him deal with several of his less intelligent knights.

Even with that, he never gives praise, and he is continuously adding more tasks for me to accomplish. I suspect he is attempting to find my breaking point. Which is a real dick move considering I'm seven!

Putting that aside, I've learned more in these few weeks than the past two years with the maester. The man was brilliant.

Which is why I found myself squirming in my chair at my small work station in Tywin's solar.

The entire Lannister fleet came into Lannisport three days ago. A total of ten carracks, eight merchanters, and seven war galleys. I was a bit surprised at how small the Lannister fleet really is, until I learned it is the fourth largest fleet in Westeros. It actually seems quite large, considering it's only used for trade and coastal defense against pirates.

I've been preparing for this moment for weeks, but I have no idea how to approach this so that Tywin takes me seriously. The Greyjoy Rebellion was about to start, and with it, the burning of the Lannister fleet.

"Speak already," Tywin suddenly ordered. "I find your excessive movements unbecoming and a distraction."

I cease all movement and look to Tywin. "My apologies, uncle," I immediately replied. I should have known he is a man that notices everything around him.

Taking a deep breath, "In 'Battles Beyond Land', it mentions how vulnerable a fleet is while in port. I am curious why... why..."

Seeing how I'm unable to find the right words, Tywin looks over at me. "Why I would allow the entire fleet into the port at once?" He asks.

"Yes, uncle," I confirm my question. I really didn't want to directly question him. Especially on a decision, he has allowed.

Tywin turns back to the stack of parchments on his desk before answering. "Because we are not at war, and this will save a great deal of time and gold."

As if he could sense my hesitance, Tywin continues. "Ships can not stay afloat forever. They must be maintained and repaired. This requires skilled labor to be brought in, supplies, and time. The crews also must be given adequate time ashore for moral." With his familiar lecturing tone, "Consolidating a fleet in port is something that should never be done in times of war."

Oh, uncle. If only you knew how right you are.

I can only helplessly nod my head in acceptance. I can't see a way to convince Tywin without drawing suspicion. And that is not the kind of attention you want from Tywin Fucking Lannister, uncle or not.

Before I can return to my assignment, there's a knock at the door. The door opens enough to reveal the upper half of a Lannister guard. "Milord, your son, wishes an audience."

With an unreadable expression, Tywin leans back into his small throne and nods to the guard.

A moment later, an anxious little dwarf waddles into the room.