Author's Note: This is an idea that's been stuck in my head all day, so I finally sat down and wrote a prologue for it. I apologize for my Sindarin, as it is almost certainly shit. Also, I must admit that I have not actually sat down and watched Game of Thrones yet. All my knowledge of the characters comes from the clips I've seen on youtube and what I've read online. I'll try my best to keep everyone in character, but I figured I should let that cat out of the bag immediately so anyone actually reading this can jump ship before it catches fire and explodes.
I do not own the Silmarillion or Game of Thrones. They belong to more talented writers than I.
Edit: Eluluni's name has been changed to Elufaun, because I am using an online dictionary to figure out these names and I couldn't refind what the "luni" part meant.
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It is the foundation of an age of strife. Aerys II Targaryen, the future Mad King, is yet but a small boy, barely in his 6th year of life. The last of the world's legendary creatures continue their decline into extinction, and from there into myth. The lord Maeker Targaryen rules as best he can, but his reign is slowly approaching its inevitable end. The lands of Westeros have but one king's reign left before they fall into ruin. A scant few decades remain before the people's anger explodes, and the great leaders of men make names for themselves.
Pain and loss are the norm in Westeros. Even for nobles, life is generally fairly short and extremely brutal. Though Maeker tries his best to be a good king, the rule of his line is far too sporadic in its morality to be truly stable. The Game of Thrones has yet to truly begin, but its foundations are being set even now. Soon, far too soon, the land's suffering will begin, and it will not end for quite some time, despite what the brief peace would have them believe.
Into this land, where cruelty and madness lies on the horizon, where the seeds of dissatisfaction have been planted but have yet to sprout, where the world has yet to realize how close it is to open warfare, a strange people emerged from the shadows. Calling themselves the Istari, these five roam the lands, visiting all manners of folk. They are a strange band of vagabonds, calling themselves such things as "Gandalf the White" and "Calenbrethil the Green", apparently after their favorite colors going by their clothes.
It does not take long for views on them to become mixed. Some despise them for the doom that so often emerges at their passing. Some find them fascinating, as they speak of ancient knowledge and legends of lands long forgotten (or perhaps never known) to the people of Westeros. Some respected them, as they were very good at solving a province's problems. Some even revered them, claiming that they could bring salvation from any peril, whether it be disease or bandits or simple bad luck.
A very select few were wary of them, for despite their oddities, the "wizards" were a very shrewd and cunning lot, and had begun subtly pushing the various lords and commoners in the directions they wanted them to go. What were they planning? What did they want? What were they trying to accomplish with these private Games of theirs? No one but they could be sure. Whenever confronted on the matter, they each gave their own answer, with the only connecting factor being something north of The Wall.
It was no surprise when the various lords of the land tried to return the favor, doing their best to control and beguile the Istari that went their way, with a few going so far as to try and have them assassinated. Nothing worked, however; it was as if the wandering wizards could predict the future, with how often they managed to cheat the odds and escape alive (though not always unscathed). Those same lords also found that the vagabonds had their own ways of enacting retribution. Stairs became traps for the unsuspecting, trees seemed to grow in such a way that passage through certain areas became impossible, and good old thwacks with wooden staves were just a few of the punishments the Istari had prepared for these interlopers. The attempts stopped almost as soon as they had started as a result.
Even so, these strange and unknown folk were constantly watched, entire spy networks being created and devoted to monitoring their movements and actions. It may be a bad idea to directly challenge any one of these people, but that didn't mean the various lords of Westeros were willing to let them wander and do as they please with impunity. They just needed one slip, one accident, one thing that they could use…and they could finally bring these disgustingly independent "wise" men to heel.
That being said, when one of the Istari came to visit, they were still generally given the treatment of an honored guest, usually amounting to a single nights meal and rest, as well as an hour or two to explain their reason for visiting. At the time, the wizards seemed to be respecting the authority of their hosts, and almost always left after this grace period was over. They could be gruff or blunt sometimes, but they always treated their hosts with the same geniality they received, and the advice they gave was always sound (if not a bit cryptic at times). All in all, they seemed content to do what they could to improve Westeros' condition in small, extremely subtle ways, and all for a cause no one could figure out.
This was not to last. Gandalf the White, the apparent leader of the Istari, had paid a visit to King Tagaryen personally. No one was quite sure what was said between them, as the wizened old coot had requested complete privacy for their meeting, but whatever was said convinced the King to hire Gandalf as an advisor that very day. The uproar that caused was incredible, and would not be seen again for decades. It was, to say the least, not the most popular decision Maeker had ever made. But no matter how hard or passionately his other advisors argued against it, the King stood by his decision; Gandalf was made a member of the Small Council as the Lord Magician, and wasted no time in getting on the bad side (unwittingly or no) of almost all the other members.
The other Istari seemed to be either inspired by their leader or took his actions as some agreed-upon sign, as they too began to find lords which they could serve more permanently. Barangwelu the Brown joined the Martells, Elufaun the Blue joined the Tullys soon after, and Calenbrethil the Green joined the Greyjoys not long after that. As for the final Istari, he had to search a bit more to find his chosen lord, but it was only a matter of time before he too made his choice. Said lord was found in the most unlikely of states.
Tywin Lannister was 8 years old when he met Annatar the Red.