I must say, I'm flattered at the response this story has gotten so far. Thank you to everyone! I wasn't planning on posting this for a couple of days yet, but I received a burst of inspiration. To answer someone's question, no, I don't see this turning into an Arya/Ormund or Sansa/Ormund story. I've got a preliminary pairing in mind, but that's considerably in the future of this story.

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"Where is he?" Cersei hissed at him, her voice oozing with loathing.

"I am looking for him, woman!" Robert was on the verge on losing his temper. "I am doing everything I can, so stop badgering me!" He was pacing around his room, finishing off yet another goblet of wine.

Their son Ormund had disappeared hours ago when he was supposed to be at his lessons and Robert had ordered his son to be found with promises of a rich reward. It was not the first time that his son had decided to wander around King's Landing without saying a word to anyone, but he had never been gone this long. Robert was more worried than he would admit to himself, considering how many enemies he had at court.

"Your best isn't good enough; it never has been." Cersei glared, "You can't even keep track of your own son. What kind of man are you?"

"Enough!" Robert slammed his fist onto the desk. "I will not tolerate this, woman, not now!" Had they been different people, the two of them would have comforted each other over fears of what could happen to Ormund, but over the course of their marriage, they had grown to truly despise one another.

Gods, how did I end up with such a creature? Robert shuddered. When they had married, he knew that he would never love again after his beloved Lyanna passed away, but had hoped that the two of them would at least be on friendly terms. He had tried many times over the first few years to form a connection with her, but Cersei utterly despised him and made no secret of it. Eventually, he had given up and spent no more time with her than he was forced to.

He was sorely tempted to go out there and search with his own eyes, but as the King, he was far too recognizable. "If anyone's harmed him…" He clenched his fists in rage. He wasn't the fool that so many considered him; he knew better than to truly trust those whom he had defeated on the battlefield, like the Tyrells and Greyjoys. Both of them would be delighted to either murder or kidnap his son.

The more likely conclusion was that he had simply gone exploring once again, leaving his tutor without a student. If his whoring and drinking did not drive him to an early grave, then surely Ormund would.

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"I have to admit, I never imagined it would be like that." Ormund remarked. "I mean, I've read about it and I've heard stories, but none of it could really compare to the real thing."

"So… I hope you enjoyed yourself as much as I did, Nephew?" Tyrion quipped, observing Ormund with a certain spring in his step. Both of them were wearing cloaks, and to a bystander, they would appear as just two individuals doing business in King's Landing. "I told you that fucking would be unlike anything you've ever experienced."

"Ok, ok, I'll never doubt you again." Ormund rolled his eyes. All of it- well, most of it- had been Tyrion's idea, with his Uncle proclaiming that he needed to experience the finer pleasures in life and refusing to take no for an answer. At the age of 14, Tyrion had decided that it was time he got to know a woman's touch.

He was a bit hesitant at first. When Ormund was younger, he had been terrified of his Uncle Tyrion, his mother constantly warning him about what a vile Imp he was. Tyrion had been nothing but friendly to him; in spite of that, he had been very slow to allow him into his life. Recently, however, he had been growing to consider Tyrion his favorite uncle and their recent visit had only solidified it.

"So how was it?" Tyrion asked. "And please, spare no details. I want to know everything my dear nephew learned to experience."

"Sorry, what happened between Alayaya and me stays between us." Ormund shrugged. "Unlike a certain Imp I could mention, I don't go around constantly bragging about my sexual exploits."

"Up until now, you haven't had any exploits to brag out." Tyrion refuted.

"Not all of us can be as depraved as you, you know." Ormund joked. "One good thing about it: you know all the best brothels in town."

"And all the whores by name," Tyrion smirked, even though that was somewhat of an exaggeration.

"Well, I've learned you definitely live up to your reputation." Ormund laughed. "I'd have thought you wouldn't accept me exploring King's Landing."

"Oh, every boy needs a good adventure and those lessons can be the dullest thing in Westeros." Tyrion remarked. "Besides, I'm far more intelligent than your tutor. Ask me anything and I'll give you the answer. Or don't ask; I'll tell you anyway. You know how much I enjoy the sound of my own voice."

"You mean like right now?" Ormund remarked. They were not far from the Red Keep at this point, which meant it would soon be time to face the consequences of his actions.

Ormund felt a sense of dread. He knew he was going to be punished, but it didn't mean he was unafraid of the consequences. He dearly hoped it wouldn't be a similar scene to what he had witnessed a year ago.

From a young age, he had grown to enjoy exploring King's Landing on his own for two reasons. First was just his natural curiosity; the second was because in the streets, he would hear what the smallfolk were really saying, not just what those in the Red Keep wanted him to believe.

Last year, his father had caught him; he had meant to return earlier but had lost track of time. The King's response was a strong slap across the face, his face red with rage. "You do not skip your lessons to go exploring in this gods-damned city!" He bellowed. "I don't care for your excuses! I was about to send the city guard to find you! If you ever pull that again, you will be SORRY!" His father had grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, their faces only an inch apart.

It had gotten far uglier after that. His mother protested the treatment and he could hear the two of them fighting into the night. When he stopped to listen, his mother had threatened to kill him in his sleep Seeing his parents completely tear each other apart like that hurt Ormund far worse than the hit ever could have.

"Ormund… I do apologize for any trouble you get into as a result of this." Tyrion sighed. "I just wanted you to have a bit of fun, not to mention a little bonding help." He hesitated for a moment before adding. "Look, I can shoulder some of the blame, tell my sister that…"

"That isn't necessary." Ormund shook his head. "Besides… it was definitely worth it, in more ways than one." He laughed to himself, unable to keep a grin off of his face despite the consequences he knew that he would soon encounter. "Hmm… I wonder when I'll find the time to go back there."

"By the Gods, I've created a monster." Tyrion shook his head at Ormund's antics.

"Well, you should have known better." Ormund quipped. "And don't expect me to return the favor and pay for your fun… Lannisters can afford anything, or so I've been told." It wasn't something that he planned on doing on a regular basis, as his father did, but he didn't see the harm in having a good time every so often."

Ormund!" A voice interrupted the two of them, Jaime Lannister nearly sprinting towards them, his Kingsguard cloak glistening in the sunlight. "Where the hell have you been?! I've been tearing the city apart looking for you! Your mother's been terrified something's happened to you!"

"All right, all right." Ormund sighed. He couldn't evade the inevitable forever. In an effort to change the subject, he asked: "So since you're taking me to her, I want to know: why did you kill the Mad King?"

"Don't change the subject! Come on!" Jaime snapped, nearly dragging the two of them back into the Red Keep.

"You could at least answer me before I have to suffer father's anger." Ormund fired back, not deterred in the least. It was far from the first time he had asked his Uncle Jaime about it. The man had always been kind and friendly to him, and he had a difficult time believing that his uncle could truly be the evil oath-breaker that the majority claimed he was (Although rarely to his face) "I'm going to get the answer out of you sooner or later!"

"Are you ever going to stop?" Jaime groaned, his nerves severely on edge. "You know the answer already and even if I did repeat it, you would not cease to leave me alone."

"That's because I know bullshit when I smell it." Ormund declared. Being a Prince, even if not the crown Prince, meant that ability was a necessity for survival.

"I can't help but be curious myself, brother, so why don't you indulge us before the two of us are forced to face my sister's wrath?" Tyrion added. Jaime did not deign to reply, deciding that silence was the better option at the moment. Ormund wasn't deterred; he would continue to ask and cajole until he heard the full truth. He wasn't known for giving up and this was no exception.

He didn't fear his father's blows. Ormund had been on the receiving end a few times, as had Joffrey (Tommen and Myrcella had never done anything to merit punishment), though it wasn't something that his father made a habit of doing. What he did not want to witness, what he was tired of witnessing, was how his parents treated each other. When he was very young, his mother and father still disliked each other, but there were occasional moments of closeness and understanding. Now, however, things became very ugly whenever the two of them were together. Even despite knowing better, he listened to the two of them and knew that he was a frequent reason for their arguments. Neither of them made more than the barest effort to hide it. Compared to that, a bit of physical punishment was nothing.

"Come on, cheer up." Tyrion encouraged in an effort to keep him from being overwhelmed with fear. "Just remember: whatever else happens, you got to experience a woman: the greatest feeling at all."

"Ok, I found him." Jaime announced, opening the door to the King's bedroom without bothering to knock. Ormund was more than a little surprised to see his parents in the same room without coming to blows. "My nephew apparently decided that wandering the city was more important than his lessons."

"I'll take it from here, Kingslayer!" His father exclaimed. "Out!" Jaime obeyed without a word, even though his hatred for the King was plain as day to all but the most oblivious of men. "Explain." His father glared and crossed his arms. His Mother was clenching her fists, her eyes wandering between her husband and son.

"Ok, if you really want to know… I was visiting Chataya's brothel." Ormund felt the truth would serve him best, even though there was no way to weasel out of this entirely. "I wanted to know what it would be like to have sex, truly know instead of simply reading or hearing about it, and it seemed a lot more fun than lessons that I already know. It definitely didn't disappoint and when Uncle Tyrion learned of my plans, he decided to come along." It was highly embarrassing to say this in front of his mother, but it wasn't as if he had any true choice in the matter. He let out a deep breath and braced himself for the worst. His father extended his arm out towards his son

And clasped his hand onto Ormund's shoulder. "That's my boy!" His father laughed. "It's about time you become a man! The feel of a woman… no words to describe it! Now if you want a father's advice, the finest brothels in King's Landing can be found…"

"What?" Ormund managed to say, his brain still attempting to process the new circumstances. His father wasn't screaming… or lecturing or…" "Well, father, I was curious as to what it was like. I'm sorry for not telling you, but I wanted to experience it by myself. You do attract quite a lot of attention, after all." Being congratulated was not what he was anticipating. In hindsight, considering his father's reputation, perhaps it wasn't so unexpected after all.

"Ahem," His mother cleared her throat, interrupting the King before he could truly get going. Ormund dearly wished that, even though it was far from uncommon for married men to visit brothels, that his father would at least be a little more discreet about it. "I'd like to talk to him alone, since you seem so determined to congratulate him without pointing out how much danger he put himself in!" She turned to him and said: "Don't you ever do that again! Do you have any understanding what could have happened to you out there?" Cersei hugged her son, as if trying to prove to herself that he was truly unharmed.

"Mother, I'm fine!" Ormund insisted, exasperated. Ever since he could remember, Cersei had smothered him, and had done everything possible to keep him from doing anything risky. While Joffrey might have been perfectly fine with an overprotective mother, Ormund chafed under it. "I know how to take care of himself!"

"Come on, don't suffocate the boy!" Robert proclaimed, with Ormund dearly hoping that this wouldn't turn into yet another fight between his parents. "He's a young man and needs to experience some joys in life. Just between me and him, those lessons are boring as hell anyway. Ah, I remember when I was a boy, running away and exploring the countryside whenever I could."

"I can't see you ever misbehaving like that, father." Ormund lied, humoring him.

"You don't know the half of it!" His father's voice echoed through the room. "I got into more trouble, fucked more women, and more whippings than you can imagine, son! All of them worth it!

What he didn't tell his parents, what he didn't even tell Uncle Tyrion, was that he considered this more than just an opportunity to lose his virginity. Thanks to this outing, Ormund had also obtained several spies in his employ. It amazed him how free the men's tongues were after a round of sex, speaking when anyone could hear them.

The best part was that he now had the information to do what he had wanted to do for a long time.

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Ormund all but ran through the hallways, focused on his destination. Although he had sorely wanted to do this as soon as he received the information, he felt that waiting until nightfall would be the more prudent course. There was no point in taking unnecessary chances, not in a city like King's Landing.

"I do apologize for waking you in the middle of the night, Ser Barristan." Ormund turned to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and apart from Arys Oakheart, the only one of them that he felt was worthy of wearing the white cloak.

"No apologies are necessary, Your Grace." Ser Barristan shook his head. "I am, of course, always eager to see justice done."

"I hope everything in his place." Ormund knew it wasn't as easy as it looked. He had hand-picked some of the gold cloaks that he was at least reasonably certain were honest, or at least intelligent enough to realize that making an enemy out of the Prince was an unwise thing to do. He knew that he did not know everything about them but hopefully after this, at least some of the corruption will be cleared out.

"You're certain Slynt's alone in there?" Ormund pressed. "And that he has no knowledge about any of this?"

"Quite certain, Your Grace." Jacelyn Bywater informed him.

"Proceed, then…" Ormund ordered, fully intending to enjoy every moment of this. Barristan opened the door to his room, more than a little surprise to find it unlocked. He hadn't thought the Commander of the Gold Cloaks would be so careless, but that only made this operation easier.

However, it did not go quite as smoothly as they hoped, for the noise awakened Slynt and at once he was on his feet, sword in hand. "Who is that?!' He demanded in spite of being unprepared and completely naked. "Answer me or I'll have your head, you…"

"I don't think my parents would want to hear that you threatened the life of their son, Slynt." Ormund refused to use the man's title. So far as he was concerned, the man exemplified everything that disgusted him about King's Landing.

"Your Grace… I am so, so, so sorry." Slynt was all but trembling at this point and immediately dropped to one knee. "What can I do for you?" They were difficult to make out in the candlelight, but seeing Ormund's cold stare, along with Barristan Selmy and several gold cloaks informed him that this was likely to mean nothing good.

"I'm just here to inform you that you are under arrest." Ormund stared at him with all his fury. It took all his self-control not to shove his sword through the man's throat, but this had to be done the proper way. "You stand accused of receiving bribes, embezzlement, and murder."

"Lies! Slander!" Slynt denied, though it was clear that he wasn't convincing any of them. "I deny them! These are nothing but rumors spread out of jealousy of my importance!"

"Importance?" Ormund scoffed. "You're nothing! You're not nearly as clever as you believe you are." He turned to the Gold Cloaks and ordered: "Search the room; leave nothing unturned." This was the moment of truth. It was still possible that some of them could be Slynt's toadies. Barristan watched them carefully in case Ormund's beliefs about their honesty proved to be incorrect.

Instead, the room was searched one stone at a time. Slynt was trembling from a mix of anger and rage. Ormund held him at swordpoint, making sure he understood that fighting was a bad idea. He fidgeted impatiently as he waited for them to conclude the search.

"Here, we found something!" Bywater announced, tossing Ormund a small sack of gold. He grabbed the candlelight and looked in carefully, wanting to make sure this was truly genuine.

"Hmm… fifty-six gold dragons." Ormund remarked, stepping a little closer to the man. "I admit that I am no master of coin, but I still know this is far beyond your salary as commander." His voice turned to pure ice. "You wouldn't be embezzling this from the treasury, would you?"

"I have powerful friends!" Slynt decided to change his tactics. "Influential friends! They will not stand for this!"

"Yes, I'm well aware of who your friends are." Ormund warned you. "Many of them are being rounded up as we speak. And no one is going to overrule me, certainly not for the sake of a man like you."

"My Lord… Your Grace… mercy, please!" Janos Slynt, upon realizing that denial and threats were getting him nowhere, was reduced to begging. He collapsed to his knees and begged: "Show mercy on me, please! Everything I did, I did for the realm! I have only ever followed orders!"

"Get this filth out of my sight!" If Ormund was forced to endure his presence any longer, he was likely to shove his sword through his gut rather than give him a trial. Protesting, crying, Janos Slynt was forcibly dragged from his room alternating between threats and pleas for mercy. Ormund paid it no mind, considering it nothing more than the wailings of a soon-to-be-dead man.

It wouldn't be enough to truly clean out the disease that was King's Landing, not even close. At the same time, it was a beginning, and Ormund was proud to begin making a true difference.

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Well, I'm hoping I wrote Tyrion accurately. He's one of my favorite characters and I hope I captured his wit, perversions, and snark. Next chapter, I'll finally be introducing the Starks. As always, please review; they motivate me to keep writing.

A note about Ormund: he does love his parents, but hates seeing them completely tear each other apart the way they do. It's had a strong effect on him, which will become more apparent as the story goes on.