ADDAM

"Eight yards, eight stags," declared Jaime, perched on a ledge that was barely wide enough to accommodate him. The boys, a measly handful of orphans, bastards and commonfolk, looked up at him in admiration. They normally wouldn't dare breathe the same air as Lord Cub but since the Old Lion was away, they did dare.Only recently had Jaime learned of the rock-climbing endeavors that the stable boys and pages of wandering knights undertook, betting whatever they had on who could climb the highest. The western side of Casterly Rock faced the Sunset Sea where waves crashed upon the rocks and soaked them every high tide, for a millennia. The moss here was as old as the Wall and no less slippery. It was not easy, most boys before Jaime needed the help of a friend to grab hold of the higher ledges that were bare of water or moss. From then on, it was only a matter of finding the right nooks and not looking down.

But not for Jaime, a willowy boy of ten - the Cub of Casterly Rock - among other things. Pretty as a girl but strong as boys five years older. With a running start, the young heir had jumped higher than Addam had ever seen anyone jump before. Ledge after ledge, Jaime had pulled himself up effortlessly. Four yards, six yards, eight wards and ten yards. Jaime climbed higher than any before him, much to the wonder of his audience of street urchins. He finally stopped at fourteen yards up high and Addam could make out his triumphant smile on his little, glittering, golden head.

"Come on, now. Eight yards, eight stags," emphasized Jaime, when the kids seemed lost for words.

The kids looked at each other, whispering if eight stags was worth risking Lord Tywin's wrath. If something were to happen to Jaime, not even Addam himself would leave unscathed.

Eventually a boy did try. Seven yards, he climbed, barely halfway to where Jaime was perched. Jaime threw him two stags for his effort. Two stags would feed him for weeks, if not a month. Encouraged, other boys followed suit, each making it to five or six yards up the wall, but never reaching for eight. Easy money, they must have thought. Jaime gave a stag to anyone who tried, and try they did. The young lording didn't care though, and so he gave freely.

By the end of the day, Jaime had perhaps befriended or rather bought all the children on Casterly Rock.

"We'll have to stop by Willus," said Jaime as they passed the Lion's Gate, after their long hike from the bottom of the Rock. It was dusk now, the lion fangs hanging from the ceiling were equal parts gold and red from the dying light from the setting sun. Jaime held up a brilliant glimmering ruby between two fingers, that he no doubt swiped from one of his father's many statues or armors.

"Again? I doubt he'll have any coin to take that off your hands." Addam sighed.

Willus the blacksmith was the only one in Casterly Rock brave enough and skilled enough to smuggle Lord Tywin's rubies. The old blacksmith was certainly shrewd, paying in stags when rubies were clearly worth dragons. But Jaime didn't mind and Addam didn't complain. Better than asking for coins from Lord Tywin.

"Oh, he'll have coin to spare, Marbrand. It's tourney season after all."

"The knights pay with promises nowadays, Lord Jaime, not coins."

"Worrywart," laughed Jaime. "He'll put up the coins, we just have to shake him a little bit. This is our chance, Addam, before father returns tomorrow."

After fierce haggling, mostly by Addam, they managed to pawn of the ruby for a hundred stags. Jaime gave Addam thirty and winked.

"Go visit the ladies, Addam, before the line gets too long. Go on, I'll be fine."

Addam would sooner bed old Maester Creylen than try his luck with one of the ladies of Tywin's court. Ever since whores started pouring in Lannisport for the tourney, the men have taken to calling them 'ladies'. Lord Tywin's distaste for whores was notorious and no one was foolish enough to test the waters. It was a small miracle that Lord Tywin would even allow whores into his precious city but Addam wasn't complaining.

"Read my mind," smirked Addam, "You coming?"

Jaime laughed out loud and walked of towards the inner keep.

"All hail His Grace, Aerys of House Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

The whole courtyards knelt in unison. The Lords and knights of the Westerlands were all here with Lord Tywin before them. The last time such an assortment of colourful lords and ladies gathered here was the birth of Tywin's heir, Jaime. Addam was young then, even so he remembered Lord Tywin smiling as Lady Joanna - who Addam mistook for a goddess- allowed Addam's father to peek at the little lord at her bosom. There would be no smiling this time. The King approached the Lord of Casterly Rock, caressing his long, wild beard. His eyes searched high and low among the kneeling crowd for something or someone.

"Where's the little monster, Tywin?"

Jaime started but Lord Tywin stopped him with a firm hand on the shoulder.

"My son Tyrion is being fostered by one of my bannermen, Your Grace."

No coincidence there. Nobody understood how one son could be so utterly perfect and the other be Tyrion Lannister. And so they whispered. But not to Lord Tywin's face, not near any of his men, not even in taverns or inns. But still they whispered.

"Shame, what an absolute shame. Bring him here, Tywin. As a you once told me, we must own our faults."

Not this again. Addam's knees ached from the prolonged kneeling and many in the crowd shared his discomfort and unease. Aerys should know better than to anger the lion in his own den.

"As Your Grace commands," replied Lord Tywin coolly.

The crowd heaved a sigh of relief when the king finally ordered them to rise. They heaved another when the royal twins came into view following their royal mother. The Crown Prince looked as melancholy as ever, a disapproving expression on his face while his eyes bore holes into the King's back.

At six and ten, Addam was at an age with the Crown Prince but Rhaegar Targaryen had the eyes of a man much older, weathered and weary. It was hard to look away from the prince. The Crown Prince was good and all but the common folk were curious for the mysterious princess of the Iron Throne, the subject of many songs and even more rumours. Princess Daenys confined herself to the Maidenvault, keeping the company of priests and sorcerers from far and wide rather than her ladies. But if the people were expecting a ravishing Valyrian beauty, they would be sorely underwhelmed by this scrawny tomboy of a princess. Spurred on by the rumours, even Addam had expected a second Shiera Seastar. Oh well.

Even so, Princess Daenys' beauty was apparent despite her apathy towards it. She was beautiful and lively despite her health. She lived up to her reputation of eccentricity or perhaps madness. In fact, the first thing she did was take Jaime's hand and kiss it. The people gasped and one from the very back dared to whistle. Jaime blushed Lannister crimson and looked to his father for guidance, but found none. The King only looked on in mild interest."He's a boy, Daenys." Prince Rhaegar prompted.

"But the prettiest one I've ever seen," the princess laughed and whispered something in Jaime's ear before pulling away.