Time passed quickly for the young prince. Between reading books, talking to his uncle, and training with Ser Balon, he was never lacking something to do. After the first few days, he worked out a schedule for himself.
He'd spend his mornings at breakfast reading through whatever book on the North he could get his hands on. By midday, he would begin training with Ser Balon and try to work out the basics of sword fighting. An activity that he found didn't come quite as easily as reading. Swords had never really been an interest for him and Ser Balon was a strict instructor who didn't mince words after their first day was done.

"If there's any of your uncle in you, we'll have to dig it out."

The prince had suspected he wouldn't be nearly as good as his uncle Jaime was but hearing those words made him wonder if he had any talent for the sword at all. The doubts worked well with the soreness that came with learning how to fight. Couldn't he be a good prince if he didn't learn how to fight? History had plenty of examples of great men who never picked up a sword in their lives. Maybe he didn't have to.

Scarcely had the thought entered his head did his mother's words ring through his mind. "You are a lion." He pictured that night in his mind, the scared look on her face, the fear he felt at the shouts and rumbles coming from outside the throne room. And with the Battle of Blackwater on his mind, the doubts faded. He had promised himself he wouldn't feel like that again and the only way to do that was to learn how to defend himself. On the next day of training, he met Ser Balon with a much more stable mind and though the results were still poor, Tommen felt much better by the end of their session.

In the evenings, he would go to his uncle Tyrion and talk about whatever was on his mind. Usually about the war with the North but also the state of his King's Landing in the aftermath of the battle, the workings of the realm and who was important, anything that could increase his knowledge on how the wider world was turning. This was usually his favorite time of the day. His uncle had always been funny, but Tommen never appreciated how smart he was. His time up North and in the Vale aside, he'd have answers to questions Tommen hadn't thought to ask and he never treated him like a child. A habit that his mother still seemed to cling too. As far as the young prince was concerned, Tyrion was just behind grandfather when it came to the smartest people in King's Landing.

"Oh, I'm not sure about that," Tyrion said. "At the very least, give Varys some credit."

"Varys?"

Tyrion smirked at the interest on his nephew's face. "What do you know about him, Tommen?"

"Not much," Tommen admitted. "I know he's the Master of Whispers."

Tyrion nodded. "He certainly is. The man probably knows more than myself or your grandfather combined and uses his knowledge to serve himself and the crown."

"How's he so smart?"

"Spies," His uncle answered. "I'd wager half the servants in the Red Keep report to him with the other half being split between Littlefinger and your mother."

Tommen's eyes widened at the last part. "Mother has spies?"

"Oh yes," Tyrion said, his smirk fading. "Honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't stopped you from coming to visit me."

Tommen frowned. "Why would she do that?"

Tyrion wondered how to phrase it to his nephew. "She and I...have never gotten along." He said. "With Joffrey's marriage on her mind, she might be too preoccupied to notice our talks but I suspect she'll take issue soon enough."

Joffrey's marriage. Tommen slunk back into his chair at the words. The idea of Joffrey marrying anyone, let alone the nice pretty girl he had met in the gardens proved difficult to picture. Wasn't a marriage supposed to make people happy? That's what the books he read when he was younger always told him. The only time Joffrey seemed happy was when he was hurting someone else. Did Margaery like hurting people too and he just didn't know?

Tyrion wanted to laugh at the contemplative look on his nephew's face. "Hard to imagine your brother getting married?"

"It's hard to imagine anyone wanting to stand next to him, let alone marry him," Tommen was surprised by the venom in his voice but it brought a smile to his uncle's face.

"You'd be surprised at how many women can ignore the questionable parts of a man as long as they have a crown on their head," Tyrion said. "Gold has a similar effect, but nothing quite outshines the crown. And even if she finds him detestable, she owes it to her family to secure the alliance with us.

Tommen looked at his uncle with an idealistic glimmer in his eye. "I guess I just thought marriage was supposed to make people happy."

Tyrion stiffened at the prince's words, thinking back to a time when he used to believe them. The smell of the Sunset sea, a beautiful voice singing to him in the night. "For the common folk perhaps. For those of us with power, we rarely find such happiness."

Tommen grew worried at the distant look in his uncle's eyes. "Did I say something wrong?"

Tyrion willed himself back to the present and shook his head. "Apologies, nephew. I don't think I'll be of any more help tonight. Not without some wine, anyway. We can continue tomorrow if you wish."

As the sun began to dip over the horizon, Tommen walked back to his room in high spirits. His plots with Tyrion had been about as poor as his training with Ser Balon but he enjoyed listening just as much to his uncle as he did the knight. With time, he could hopefully become skilled enough in both areas. But until then, he would do his best to take in everything they offered. Even if the results left him bruised and feeling simple.

To his surprise, he found a familiar face in the halls of Red Keep. "Lady Sansa?"

The Stark girl turned toward him and he saw a smile that seemed to make the dim hall light up as she curtsied. "Prince Tommen, how are you?"

"I'm doing well," Tommen said, returning the smile. "You seem to be in a fine mood."

"I've been talking with lady Margaery," Sansa said.

"Really," Tommen's smile faltered as he realized he had let the Tyrell family slip his mind. He needed to study them just as much as the Starks. "What do you think of the soon to be Queen?"

"She's kind," Sansa said. "She doesn't look at me like I'm a traitor."

The mention of the word reminded Tommen of his brother's harsh treatment of her. "And has Joffrey...bothered you since she arrived?"

Sansa shook her head. "His grace has focused on other objects since the Battle of Blackwater. It's been...nice."

Tommen let out a weak sigh as he wondered how long it would last. "Would you mind if I asked you something, Sansa?"

Sansa had no issue with the request and the pair moved through the Red Keep together. "I've been trying to figure out a way around this war. A way to bring peace to our families again." He put on a dismal smile. "It's not going as easily as I had hoped."

Sansa bobbed her head. "I can imagine."

"Can you?" Tommen asked. "That's good, I could use a Stark mind."

Sansa looked confused by his words. "What are you asking, my lord?"

"You know Robb, and I hope you got along with him better than me and Joffrey. How would you make him talk to me?"

"Talk to you?" Sansa repeated.

Tommen nodded. "I want to bring the North back into the Seven Kingdoms. And I want to try and keep your family as their rulers. Can you help me with this?"

"What help do you have in mind, my lord?" There was a tone of suspicion in her voice that hurt the prince but he chose to move past it. "How much do you know about the War?"

"I know the lords are calling it the War of Five Kings," Sansa said.

"Very good, so who are the kings?"

"Joffrey, Robb, Stannis, Renly before he perished, and..." Her mind blanked on the final name. "Forgive me, your grace. I don't know the fifth."

Tommen took that as a sign that she didn't know about her brothers or Winterfell. "Balon Greyjoy." He said. "He's started his rebellion again and attacked the North."

There was a look of fear in her eyes as soon as he mentioned the family name. "Greyjoy? But Theon... Theon's still with Robb. Why would he..."

A small nose down the hall reminded him of his talk with his uncle and the various spies in the Red Keep. "Would you mind if we moved to your chambers, Sansa?"

Sansa looked puzzled by the suggestion but nodded her head all the same. Did she not know about the spies either? If she didn't then should he tell her? She was his friend but at the same time, he wasn't sure he trusted her.

Once they were behind closed doors, Tommen relayed the unfortunate news to her. The sacking of her home, the murder of her brothers, the betrayal of their family friend. It was grim news and she took it as grimly as he expected. Sobs filled the room and leaked out into the evening air through an open window. Tommen knew he could do little to ease her pain and sat in silence beside her. By the time she had calmed down, all the strength seemed to have left her body and her spirit looked too crushed to talk about anything. Tommen decided they could continue this talk later and he started to move away.

"Tommen,"

He turned back around to the lost wolf.

"Thank you, for telling me." Sansa worked out, wiping her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. "Others wouldn't have been as kind."

Tommen felt strange at her words but nodded all the same. "Get some rest, we can talk about this later."

With the door closed behind him and the image of a sobbing friend ingrained in his mind, Tommen started back to his chambers. He hadn't gotten ten steps in before he was greeted by someone he would've liked to avoid.

"Brother." Joffrey greeted with a smile. "You're out late."

Tommen fought the urge to frown at the sight of the king and his usual guards Meryn Trant and put on a weak smile of his own. "Just out for a walk. Thinking about things."

"Is that right?" Joffrey asked, marching towards him. "And why are you walking so close to Sansa's chambers?"

"I wasn't aware I was," Tommen replied. He tensed at the feel of his older brother's hand on his shoulder. "Something wrong, brother?"

Joffrey's smile seemed to stretch. "Not at all." He said. "I was just about to tell Sansa about her traitor brothers' demise. Would you like to join me?"

"I've already told her," Tommen answered quickly.

Joffrey's smile faded. "Oh? I wasn't aware you knew."

"I'm starting to know a lot of things," Tommen said, matching the glare that Joffrey was giving him, despite the difference in size, Tommen felt oddly taller than before. "For instance, I don't like seeing my friend cry."

"Look at you," Joffrey chuckled. "Acting like a little lion." Tommen felt his brother's grip tighten as Joffrey leaned in closer to his ear. "Who still hasn't grown any claws."

A swift punch to Tommen's stomach knocked the air straight from his lungs. As he collapsed to his knees and started coughing he could feel his brother sneering at the back of his head. "That whore belongs to a family of traitors. She is not your friend."

In between breaths, Tommen's anger began to swell in his chest. He stood back and met his brother's gaze again, surprising him. "Well, someone's feeling brave." He snickered at the pained expression on his brother's face and held out his hands. "Do you want to strike me, Tommen?"

Tommen's breathing was rapid as his fists curled into balls. Yet he remained in place. "N-No. And I don't know why you want me too."

A spark of annoyance appeared in Joffrey's eye. "I want you to know your place, brother. Our uncle has often forgotten his."

So he heard about his visits with Tyrion. Was that what this was about? "Is that why you tried to have him killed?" Tommen asked. His rage began to work its way into his voice. "He's our uncle!"

"He's a disgusting dwarf," Joffrey replied. "Killing him would rid our family of the mistake our grandfather made."

Tommen's rage began to grow again but one glance towards Meryn Trant made it plain to not do anything desperate. He kept silent and avoided his brother's gaze until the king seemed satisfied. "If you knew what was good for you, you'd stay away from him," Joffrey said, turning his back to his brother.

"Brother,"

Joffrey halted in mid-step.

"Why do you act this way?" The anger in his chest began to fade as Tommen asked the question. "Why do you have to torment everyone you come across?"

Joffrey spun around and gave a little smile. "Because I can. That's the power of being king. Something you'll never understand. Besides, that was far from torment, little brother. I can do much worse." He glanced at the still frame of Ser Balon. "Any time I wish.

With one last sneer, Joffrey turned away and started back the way he came, with Ser Meryn right at his back. For a brief moment, Tommen considered charging after him, but the idea passed as soon as it appeared. This was nothing new. Joffrey had never liked Tommen, or if he had, it was so long ago no one could remember it. Tommen always hoped he did at some point. It gave him comfort to think of a younger, less evil Joffrey looking after his siblings. Even if the memory was a lie.

"Are you all right?" Ser Balon asked, not bothering to hide a guilty tone.

Tommen nodded. The air had returned to his lungs by now, but the situation had left him shaky and alert. He wasn't going to be able to rest for a good while now.

The prince made his way down towards the Red Keep's beach. It was a private little place. Well away from the bustling lords and ladies that roamed the castle's walls and gardens. If his memory could be relied on, he, Myrcella, and even Joffrey had spent many a day playing there before they got older. Joffrey never visited the place anymore, and Tommen hadn't been back to it since Myrcella left for Dorne.

It hadn't changed much in his absence. The waves still hugged the sand like a loving daughter, and the salty sea air remained undisturbed and beautiful under the light of the fading sun. To his surprise, he wasn't the only one visiting. As he made his way down the steps to the sand, he spotted the outline of his grandfather standing at the edge of the water. The sight struck Tommen as odd, but it didn't deter him from walking onto the sand. At the sound of footsteps, Tywin cocked his head towards his grandson. "Enjoy your talk with Tyrion?"

"Everyone has spies, don't they?" Tommen said, avoiding Tywin's glare as he moved next to him. "But yes, I did. He's smart."

"He has low cunning." Tywin corrected. "Don't confuse it for something else."

"Do you not get along with him either?" Tommen asked. A faint scoff was all he got in response. Now that he was closer, Tommen could see that his grandfather wasn't just staring out into the sea. There was a basket on the ground beside him and a fishing line out in front. "I didn't know you fished."

"Why would you?" Tywin asked back. "Until recently, you've been content to wander around not knowing anything about anyone."

His grandfather's words stung. "I know," Tommen replied. "I'm sorry if I've let you down."

A sigh escaped Tywin's lips as he looked at his grandson. "And your training with Ser Balon?"

Tommen supposed it was time to act as if his grandfather just knew everything about everyone. "Slow," he admitted. "It seems that I don't have uncle Jamie's gifts for the sword but I'm trying to learn." The image of his grandfather coming into the throne room, in full armor spattered with blood came to his mind. "When did you learn how to fight, grandfather?"

"When I was younger than you were," Tywin answered. "And I did so because it was necessary for the family. I'm glad you've taken a similar stance on such things."

Tommen nodded just as the fishing line started to wobble. Tywin hawk-like eyes darted out to a specific point in the water as he clasped the line in between his fingers and began reeling it back in. Once the fish was in his hands, he smashed its head against a nearby rock and tossed it into the basket. "What of the question I set up for you? Have you figured out a way to bring the North back into the fold?"

"I've been discussing somethings with uncle Tyrion but..." Even without the gaze of his grandfather on him, he felt ashamed at his lack of a real answer. "What about trading Sansa for uncle Jamie?"

"Jamie is no longer their prisoner," Tywin said.

Tommen felt conflicted by the news. He was glad his uncle was now out of Stark hands but Sansa's return home just gained a new obstacle. "Do we know where he is?"

A low grumble from his grandfather was his answer. "I've been thinking, I could ask Sansa what to do," Tommen said.

"By all means, ask the Stark girl on how to return her to her family." Tywin's cold tone could freeze the ground they stood on

"Sansa's smart." Tommen defended. "She has to know we can't just let her go while her family is at war with us. Maybe she could help."

Tywin finally returned his gaze to the prince. "How?"

Tommen could feel himself shrink under his grandfather's eyes but he did his best to stand firm. "I...I could marry her."

Tywin raised an eyebrow at the statement that sounded an awful lot like a question. "You want to marry the Stark girl?"

Tommen fought the urge to shake his head. He didn't want to marry anyone right now, but he had given a possible answer to his grandfather. Now he had to stand by it. "It can bring the North back into the Seven Kingdoms. A Stark and a Baratheon together is a good match."

"A match that is of little use to us with the Robb Stark calling himself king." Tywin pointed out. "How do you intend to make him submit?"

"The Greyjoys," Tommen answered. Tywin beckoned him to elaborate. "Robb hates us for killing his father. But the Greyjoys have betrayed him and killed two of his brothers. He'll hate them at least as much as he does us. And they have Winterfell."

"What role does Winterfell play?" Tywin asked.

"How would you feel if someone took Casterly Rock?" Tommen asked. "It's your home and place of power. You'd do anything to get it back."

"Even ally with the family that killed your father?" Tywin asked.

Tommen looked out towards the ocean as the answer rolled over him. "We didn't kill his father. Joffrey did. We make that clear to him. As long as he swears to end the rebellion and pledge his loyalty to us, we'll help him destroy the Greyjoys and he can keep his position as Warden of the North."

"Rather quick to blame your brother for this situation."

"He brags about it," Tommen growled out, surprising Tywin with his anger. "I just don't know why he hates everyone. I'm just trying to help."

Tywin's eyes narrowed slightly at his grandson's hurt tone. "Did something happen between you and Joffrey?"

Tommen avoided his gaze. "Nothing worse than usual. What were we discussing?"

Tywin was quick to answer. "Sansa's role in your plan."

"She'll be married into the royal family," Tommen said. "Her place will be with us. And..." The thought made Tommen uneasy but it was a possibility. "We'll have something if Robb gets any further ideas."

Silence returned to the beach. Tommen took it as a sign that he had failed. "It's a terrible plan, isn't it?"

"It's messy in several places." Tywin acknowledged. "Still, I'm impressed you took the task seriously, even if you are still too idealistic."

"I just want things to turn out okay," Tommen defended. "Is it wrong to hope that we can fix things? Maybe make them better than they were before all of this?"

Tywin started to set up his fishing line again. "Your hopes must not blot out the reality of our situation. Peace with the Starks would be difficult to manage and I have little patience to negotiate with them as long Robb calls himself king." Tywin's eyes darted across the water again as he saw movement. "Still, you brought up the Greyjoy issue. Perhaps you can work with that if they wish to do something about it. Of course, if the Starks care more about being loved by their men than they do about their home, peace will be off the table entirely. What would we do about them then?"

Tommen went quiet at the thought. "I'm hoping that it doesn't come to that."

Tywin scoffed at the response. "Plan for when it does. Hope is for fools who don't prepare."

The two went quiet again and Tommen studied his grandfather's face. Decades of leadership and terrible choices had hardened it as it would any man but there was something more relaxed about it here. And it was too curious not to ask about.

"How did you learn to fish?"

Tywin blinked at the question. "My father taught me."

Tytos. Tommen had rarely heard the man's name spoken, but he knew the story about what had happened to the Lannisters under his rule as well as what Tywin would do to restore the damage done to it. He had never given it much thought before but Tywin must've been young too.

"Could you teach me?" Tommen asked.

Tywin raised his eyebrows at the question. "You want to learn?"

Tommen hesitated under his grandfather's gaze but nodded. "I want to learn all I can. To help the family."

Tywin froze for a moment before accepting the answer and beckoned Tommen closer. "Understand, fishing isn't an exciting task. It's a game of patience and observation."

"Like ruling?" Tommen asked.

Tywin nodded at his grandson before he continued.

A/N: Well here you go. Some of you might take issue with the Tywin scene but I like to believe their was a hidden side from the man that the audience never saw. Makes him more just a bit more interesting in my eyes so I figured I'd try a scene of it. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't. Let me know what you think. Also, sorry about the wait. Crazy times.