The Son He Always Wanted


A/N: I originally started this fic a while ago and posted the first parts of it, but got feedback that it stuck much too close to canon. So this is the second attempt at something a bit more AU. Please read and review.

EDIT: I don't own ASOIAF or GoT.

Reviewer: Gasp! I'm doing a Stephanie Meyer and obsessing about Edward's golden eyes...seriously, I put that in to make sure to emphasize that unlike canon ASOIAF, the Lannisters aren't universally hated but they are equally liked and disliked. I just like the turn of phrase I used that I adapted from Jaime in the books.

Yinko: Nature vs Nurture debate. I think whilst Joffrey in canon was predisposed by his genetics to be insane, his behaviour is also in his upbringing. And with Robert and Cersei as parents...you can paint the picture.

Guest: It's pretty clear that Cersei has someone else or perhaps more than one someone else in place of Jaime, she does it in canon as well. As for Jon Arryn dying, I'm of the school which doesn't believe that he was poisoned by the Lannisters.


Chapter 2

Lukas sat in a chair at the desk in his room in the Red Keep. He was penning a letter to one of his under-traders in Braavos with a few new instructions as to the goods that he should be trading in, and also to ask for updated reports when the guard at the door said that the Queen was without.

"Come in," he said. The door opened and the Queen, his elder sister strode in, stalking in, displeasure obvious in her eyes. She was followed by the Kingsguard knight, Ser Lyonel Hill. "What is this you have done, taking my guards and having them do your business," she stated.

"Your Grace," Lukas replied, nonplussed at her challenging tone. "I have merely used the Lannister men that father has provided. They are Lannister men, not your men. Do I need to tell father?" That always gave her pause when she complained. "I am the heir to Casterly Rock, they are father's men and then they will be mine. They remain here at Father's pleasure, because he wants them to look after the family's interests in Kings Landing. But, should he need them elsewhere, he would withdraw them in a heartbeat." He dared her to respond. "I am sure once they are done running my errands, errands that build our family's fortune they will be available for you to order around. Do not worry yourself, father trusts me." The implication in Lukas's voice was clear, Tywin Lannister did not trust easily, and even his daughter Cersei wasn't one he trusted to do the right thing.

Cersei flounced back over the door with a huff, as she was want to do. Lukas let out a deep breath, his sister threw temper tantrums like no one else when she didn't get her way, and only Lord Tywin seemed to give her pause. The guardsman closed the door behind him and he returned to his correspondence. A page boy came in, and Lukas handed him a letter to be sent to Casterly Rock by raven.

By the time it hit mid-afternoon, Lukas was out in a private courtyard doing a bit of sword practice, going through katas that he had learned on his travels. He had heard that he former First Sword of Braavos, Syrio Forel was in Kings Landing. In the past two years in Braavos, he had been studying water dancing with a master there, as part of his duties to the House of Bellerion, although he still had a long way to go before he could reach good proficiency.

He summoned another page boy and asked him to find Syrio Forel, for he wished to continue his tutoring in Water Dancing. It was one of the ways that he had decided to honour his wife's ancestry. But he was still a rather inept beginner at it, and his time in Braavos, as per his agreement with his own father was soon to be up.

Soon, his wife and two children would be headed to Casterly Rock via Kings Landing, for him to return home as the heir of Casterly Rock. From there, he would have to learn to rule the Westerlands at his father's side, and then eventually as Warden of the West. Lukas would have much rather stayed in Braavos, tending to their burgeoning trading empire, but he knew that he would need to at least spend some time in the Westerlands to get to know the lords and ladies and to assess how useful they would be, or how reticent they would be to his leadership, different as it would be from his father's. Although in some ways, Lukas was very much like his father, in other ways he took after his mother.

After practice, he settled in for dinner with his nieces and nephews and sister. A page boy showed him the way to where the Queen and her children were dining. As usual, King Robert was absent from the family dinner, preferring to be away from his children and with the whores and serving girls and his faithful drinking companions.

The room was decorated in gold and crimson, as was the colours of the House of Lannister. As the serving men and women bought the dish of venison, with its gamey texture to Lukas, he observed his three nieces and nephews. Joffrey, the Crown Prince, blue of eye and black of hair, no doubting that he was a Baratheon through and through. The boy looked arrogant and bored, as if he wanted to be done with the meal and off to do whatever he wanted.

Myrcella sat straight, she took after her mother, golden tresses and green eyes, so like a Lannister in looks, but she was quiet and calm, every inch a growing lady. Lukas was sure that she would make a fine lady of a grand castle one day. She only made small chat though, but seemed to have some keen insights.

Tommen, the youngest was shy and withdrawn. Cersei complained that he was clumsy when he accidentally knocked over cup of juice. He as also plump in the face, having not yet lost his baby fat although he was now well into his childhood. He also had golden hair like the Lannister family and forest green eyes. It was said that he took after his uncle, the missing Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer or the Hero of Kings Landing in looks, but definitely not in swordsmanship. Even to this day, fierce tavern fights started over how people viewed Ser Jaime. The fact that he had disappeared after his revelation only added to the controversy. But most denizens of King Landing agreed, there must not be another mad Aerys on the throne ever.

As dinner wore on, Lukas could see that Joffrey liked to exercise power over his siblings. Whilst Myrcella seemed apt at deflecting Joffrey away by subtly influencing their mother to take Joffrey's attention, and Joffrey was always hungry for his mother's praise and attention, Tommen was less fortunate. Joffrey constantly liked to say that Tommen was a baby, and Cersei did nothing to stop it. Lukas was fairly certain that given the opportunity and away from Joffrey, Tommen could flourish. Perhaps he needed to be fostered somewhere, perhaps with Tommen's maternal grandfather, though he doubted that King Robert would like that. Cersei would kick up a fuss if anyone dared suggest that Tommen be fostered by anyone that was not a Lannister. There was no way that she was going to let anyone else guide her children other than her father or herself.

The conversation continued until Cersei said something about the Starks, after which Joffrey piped up, "I wish the Hound had found that Stark girl first. He would have taught her good." For as fiercely as his father had loved Lyanna Stark, Joffrey Baratheon hated Arya Stark. He wanted nothing more than to pay her back for what had happened with that blasted direwolf of hers. He wanted her to suffer for a long time. But his father would never allow him to take Arya Stark and punish her. No, he loved Ned Stark too much to allow Joffrey what he wanted.

"Yes, that wild thing needs a good lesson from the Hound in how to respect her betters," Cersei said. "But you should not focus on her, it is her sister, Lady Sansa that is to be your wife." Sweet, naïve Sansa, a girl who lived in a dream world like Cersei had when she was younger. She would soon learn that reality was so unlike her dreams. Cersei would continue to manipulate Sansa to make her into an obedient Queen to the future Queen dowager. She would have to find some way to strike at the younger sister. The one that looked so like Lyanna Stark, the girl who had taken her childhood dream Prince Rhaegar Targaryen from her and left her with the whore-mongering reality that was Robert Baratheon. Yes, the Queen and the Crown Prince were both combined in their hatred of Arya Stark.


Ser Rodrik Cassel led Ned into the brothel, into a room upstairs, through the crowded common room where a fat woman was singing bawdy songs while pretty young girls in linen shifts and wisps of coloured silk pressed themselves against their lovers. No one paid Ned, Ser Rodrik or Littlefinger any attention at all. They went up to the third floor, along a corridor and then through a door.

Inside, Catelyn Stark was waiting for her husband. She embraced him tightly. "My Lady," Ned whispered in wonderment.

"I feared you would never come, my Lord," Catelyn whispered against his chest. "Petyr has been bringing me reports. He told me of your troubles with Arya and the young prince. How are my girls?"

"Both in mourning, and full of anger," he told her. "Cat, I do not understand. What are you doing in King's Landing? What happened?" Ned asked his wife. "Is it Bran? Is he..." dead was the word that came to his lips, but he could not say it.

"It is Bran, but not as you think," Catelyn said.

Ned was lost. "Then how? Why are you here? What is this place?" It was then Ned saw the raw red scars on her hands, and the stiffness of the last two fingers on her left hand. "You've been hurt." He took her hands in his own, turned them over. "Gods. Those are deep cuts...a gash from a sword or...how did this happen my lady?"

Catelyn slid a dagger out from under her cloak and placed it in his hand. "This blade was sent to open Bran's throat and spill his life's blood."

Ned's head jerked up. "but...who...why would..."

She put a finger to his lips. "listen to me, let me tell it all."

So Ned listened and she told it all, from the fire in the library tower to Varys and the guardsmen and Littlefinger. And when she was done, Eddard Stark sat dazed besides the table, the dagger in his hand. Bran's wolf had saved the boy's life. Thank the Old Gods. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups. And he had killed Sansa's, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling or fear? If the Old Gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?

Painfully, Ned forced his thoughts back to the dagger and what it meant. "The Imp's dagger," he repeated. It made no sense. His hand curled around the dragonbone hilt, and he slammed the blade into the table, felt it bite into the wood. It stood, mocking him. "Why should Tyrion Lannister want Bran dead? The boy has never done him harm?"

"The Imp would never have acted alone," Catelyn said, "Petyr said so."

Ned rose and paced the length of the room. "If the queen had a role in this, or, gods forbid, the king himself...no, I will not believe that." It could not have been the King, not Robert. He may have hated fiercely, but he also loved fiercely too and Bran was certainly someone that Robert didn't hate, no Ned was his friend, and Robert would love his friend's son.


It was in the next days that Lukas Lannister sought out Syrio Forel, the former first sword of Braavos. Ostensibly, it was for water dancing master classes, but also he wanted Forel to confirm something that the current Sea Lord of Braavos had told him. If this piece of information was confirmed, then, King Robert's rule would be threatened. He had his father's men running around Kings Landing, looking for Syrio Forel. If Forel confirmed what he had been told by the Sea Lord of Braavos, Lukas would need to send a trusted messenger to Casterly Rock with haste.

It was obvious to Lukas that the Crown relied on Varys for all intelligence. Neither Robert, nor Cersei bothered to cross check the veracity of information that Varys provided them. Lukas shook his head, if Varys ever got a wrong lead, it would lead to disaster. Independent verification was something that Lukas valued. That's why he had various different contacts in many cities.

Tregar knocked on his door, and a page boy entered, after Lukas gave the command to open the door. It looked like the page boy had found Syrio Forel, in the Small Hall. Lukas dismissed the page boy and nodded to Tregar, it was time to go meet this man. Lukas strode down the corridors of the Red Keep towards the Small Hall.

Stark men blocked the doors to the Small Hall. Lukas gave them the best death stare he could manage. "I have no quarrel with Lord Stark," Lukas said, "I merely wish to consult with Master Forel, who I believe is here. Step aside." He continued to walk forward to open the door.

The Stark guardsmen lowered their weapons. Lukas's men began to draw his own. Lukas continued to walk forwards towards the weapons, "no need to draw weapons," he said to his men. "These nice guards will let me through, unless they want to be responsible for starting a war." He continued to walk forwards, daring them to attack. He knew that they would not, not without condemning themselves to death. He pushed the doors to the Small Hall open, walking through. He turned away just as a wooden sword came flashing at him, angling his body ever so slightly so that the thrust missed.

"Apologies," Lukas said, in Braavosi, "for the intrusion, but there is a urgent matter that I need to talk to Master Forel about." There, in front of him, stopped, stood Syrio Forel, a short bald man with a large hooked nose, but this man was nine years the First Sword of Braavos and a master of waterdancing.

"And you are?" the reply in Braavosi.

"Lukas, consort Bellerion of Braavos," he introduced himself in Braavosi tongue.

"You're a Lannister," Arya interjected, "I'd recognise your colours anywhere."

"Yes, that too, Lady Arya Stark," Lukas replied, nodding to her in acknowledgement. "I'd recognise your father's men outside too."

"You are interrupting my lesson," Arya said. It was clear to Lukas that Arya Stark was a very headstrong child. Undoubtedly, that was why she and Joffrey had clashed to badly. She was the type to strike back at bullies regardless of the consequences.

"Undoubtedly," Lukas said, "but you see, I have a very important matter that I need to talk to Master Forel about from his time as First Sword of Braavos."

Syrio Forel stopped. Though it was well known that he had been First Sword of Braavos, that was a role, a life he had left years ago. For this Lannister, to ask about his time there, it must be something big.

"Master Forel," Lukas said, "I ask, both as heir to the Westerlands of Westeros, and also as consort Bellerion of Braavos, for this affects my people more than anyone else."

Syrio understood, no wonder this man knew so much, he was the consort of the Bellerion family, a powerful family in Braavos, a family that was part of the managing board of the Iron Bank and close to the Sea Lord of Braavos.

Lukas asked, "I am seeking confirmation of this," he pulled out the letter that he had been sent by his contacts in Braavos, the letter which said that the previous Sea Lord had witnessed a certain pact signed by two parties, a conspiracy against Westeros.

A nod was all that was needed. Lukas folded up the scroll. He frowned. This meant he would need to send letters to his father, and then inform the King in utmost secret. Even he knew the rumours that the walls had ears in this castle. Lady Olenna Tyrell had commented as such, when he had visited Highgarden once whilst he was a squire.

"What was that," Arya asked, curious as to what this Lannister man had to ask her teacher.

"None of your business, Lady Arya," Lukas replied, "perhaps your father will tell you later." He turned back to Syrio. "Thank you for your time, Master Forel. May your lessons with Lady Stark go well."

"Consort Bellerion," Syrio said, "perhaps you could help me demonstrate some of the more intricate patterns of water dancing."

"I admit that I am far from a master of water dancing myself, but I have studied it in the last two years," Lukas said as he caught the practice sword that Syrio threw him. It was a hollow sword, filled with lead. He could feel the weight shift inside the sword as he tilted it up and down. "This is to teach balance, at all times." He smiled, "it takes a lifetime to really master water dancing, swordplay. To truly master it that is."

Still, he started going through the basic swordplay katas of water dancing. Slowly at first. He could see that Lady Stark was watching with rapt attention. Then he increased his speed. But with the lead filled practice sword, it was hard going, sometimes he would have to stop and right himself as he lost balance.

"See, Lady Arya," Syrio said, "when Consort Bellerion has to stop, it is because he has lost the balance on the sword. It is as he said, he has not mastered water dancing yet."

Lukas put the practice sword down as he finished the third kata. "Master Forel," he said, "I must take my leave now. There is much to do." He bowed to Syrio. "Lady Arya," Lukas said, "I hope that when you learn more that you find the right people and place to practice with."

Arya understood the implication, that she was to practice away from Joffrey's sight. "Joffrey's a liar," Arya shot back, hotly.

Lukas smiled, a knowing smile, "No matter what, Lady Arya, you should do best to remember that Joffrey is the Prince, and one day he will be King. Joffrey will not forget what you did to him, in that way he is like King Robert who could never forget what Prince Rhaegar did by taking your Aunt. Best be careful Lady Arya that you remain out of Joffrey's reach." If the girl managed to stay away from Joffrey, preferably up in the North, she could have a very happy life. Otherwise, Joffrey would use all of his power as King to ruin her.

He bowed and exited the room, the confirmation he needed in his brain. This meant war was coming, no matter what.


King Robert had thrown a tournament to celebrate Ned's appointment as Hand of the King, even though it would be a colossal waste of gold that the Crown already did not have. Lord Stannis had intimated as much on his return from Dragonstone. Lukas could have participated in the joust, but he chose not to, riding on a horse was not his best skill. That was one thing that Jaime was always much better than him at. His elder brother was a natural on a horse and even more fearsome with the sword. Lukas was skilled at fighting in other ways though.

He sat in the section of the pavilion that had been assigned to House Lannister and its bannermen. Mostly second sons and third sons came from the West to try their luck in the tournament. He looked over at the Stark section of the pavilion and saw Sansa Stark, dressed beautifully in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair. As the Kingsguard rode past, he saw Ser Lyonel Hill, dip his lance to Princess Myrcella and she tied a ribbon on his lance, a favour, Lukas saw. He saw his two bannermen, Ser Gregor Clegane and his younger brother Sandor Clegane, the Hound. Both were fearsome warriors, big and strong. The West had a good chance of winning the lists. And then of course, there was the Knight of Flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell, the youngest son of Mace Tyrell, the Warden of the South and Lord of Highgarden. The boy was a natural on a horse with lance in hand.

He watched a round or two of the joust, making sure that he had been noted as attending before he exited the Lannister area of the pavilion. He was headed to see the Hand of the King. It was well noted that Lord Stark had not shown up to the Stark section of the pavilion, and so, Lukas sneaked away as well, to look for Lord Stark. There was no time to waste, the Iron Bank needed a repayment plan and one soon. He also had letters to send and business to tend to. His father, Lord Tywin would undoubtedly have missives to be sent to him with instructions.

When he arrived at the Tower of the Hand, he found that Lord Stark was out, with Stannis Baratheon it was said and that they would not be returning until the end of the day. Lukas wondered, was it some Council business that Lord Stark and Lord Stannis were dealing with. Lukas, deterred, went about his own business for the rest of the day, poring over accounts of his business. In the end, it turned out there were four riders left in the joust, his man had reported, Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Lyonel Hill, Ser Gregor Clegane and the Mountain that rides. Three of the final four hailed from the Westerlands. The last titles though, Lukas heard were not to be held until the next day.

After a short breakfast, the jousting began again. Frankly, Lukas thought it was a waste of time, with the exception of providing good cover to talk business, and that was what he was here to do. To talk business with other Lords, and even merchants. He heard bets on winners being thrown left and right. Firstly, it was Sandor Clegane against the Kingsguard, Ser Lyonel Hill, and then the second joust would be Ser Loras Tyrell and Ser Gregor Clegane. Since both Clegane's were to be his future bannermen, he supposed that he should watch the joust.

The first joust lasted three passes before Sandor Clegane, who had worn an olive-green cloak over dark grey armour unhorsed his opponent. Cheers went up from the crowd as Sandor was proclaimed the victor of the joust. The attention then turned to Ser Loras Tyrell, riding a mare in heat against Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that rides. From what Lukas had heard and seen about this bannerman, he would only ever be a blunt instrument of force, sometimes useful but nonetheless limited. He could see Ser Gregor's horse bucking, pawing a the ground, it was then he understood that Loras Tyrell sought to win by having Ser Gregor's horse throw the rider itself.

As Ser Gregor fell in the first tilt as predicted, Ser Lukas turned away, having had enough of the jousting, for it was not a show of skill but a show of deceit. In war, one must use deceit to win, but this was a tourney. It was then he heard the shrieks in the crowd as the Mountain and the Hound fought and King Robert's voice cut through all the noise. "Stop this madness, in the name of your King." It was why Ser Gregor was only a blunt instrument, granted a big one, but with no grace.

Lukas heard that night, at the feast, that Sandor Clegane had been awarded the prize for the jousting. But he could see King Robert in fine form, chortling, flirting with all manner of women whilst Cersei was not present. Lukas could see that it was an unhappy marriage. He saw Lord Stark's younger daughter, a girl with grey eyes, much like the Starks in colouring unlike his elder daughter Sansa. It was the girl that he had warned about Joffrey. It looked like she was keeping her real thoughts well hidden. Hopefully, that girl would learn.

When he heard Lord Stark comment that no Lannisters were present, Lukas chuckled to himself from his place far away from the royal table. When men were in their cups, he liked to sit at the lower tables, to gather information, to observe. Although he supposed, it could have been because he had been away from Westeros for so long and that they were not still used to his return.

It was the next morning that he had been roused by the Lannister guards. Word had come through that his younger brother Tyrion had been kidnapped by Catelyn Stark. He sat in his solar, reading those words. His father would be wroth. If there was one thing that roused Tywin Lannister to action, it was anyone trying to sully the Lannister name, and there was no more provocative way to do so but by kidnapping his son.

Tywin was already tetchy when Jaime had disappeared, and again when Lukas had gone off on his journey. This was a third blow to his father's pride, and there was no doubt that his father would pay Catelyn Stark back in blood. But Lukas wondered, why would Catelyn Stark do such a thing as to kidnap his brother. And secondly, how would Lukas pay her back in a way that no dirt would stick to the Lannisters.

He knew that his father would probably send 'brigands' to pay Catelyn Stark back in blood, but Lukas pondered on what he could do. Cersei would run to Robert of course, even though their marriage was combative at best, Tyrion was still the King's own brother in law, which still meant something. Lukas wondered where he could contribute.

But first, he needed to find where Catelyn Stark had taken Tyrion. Tyrion had last been in the Riverlands on his way back down to Kings Landing and that Catelyn Stark was taking him north, back to Winterfell. If they were headed north, they must past the Neck, and Lukas had spies there observing the road north at all times. It was a bottleneck and it made good sense to set up a spy post there to record all traffic heading north. If Tyrion went North, Lukas would know. Yet, if Tyrion ended up at Winterfell it would be very hard to get him back, short of a royal order.

Therefore, Lukas had to play this right and make sure that the Crown ordered Tyrion's freedom. He wondered if Lord Stark knew that his wife had taken Tyrion prisoner. King Robert was out hunting with his brother Renly and Ser Barristan, leaving the rest of the Small Council to rule in his stead. That was headed by Lord Stark, who he could be sure would protect his wife's actions whether he had prior knowledge or not. But Lord Stannis was still there, and if what his father had told him of Lord Stannis was true, then all he would have to do is to petition Lord Stannis for justice for his brother's kidnapping. Stannis would ultimately side with what was right. Pycelle's support could be counted upon as he was Lukas's father's man. Lord Littlefinger and Varys, those two were wildcards, but both would go with the majority. If Pycelle supported him, and he could win Stannis, Littlefinger and Varys should both fall into line. Should he fail to convince Stannis, though, he would just have to convince Stannis to have Tyrion brought to Kings Landing for trial. That wasn't something that could be refused. Stannis would see that justice would be done, which meant a full investigation with evidence. And evidence was something that Lukas had yet to see.


A/N: Tell me what you think.