Tyrion Lannister Casterly

It was swelteringly hot on this day, or so Tyrion thought and it did not help that the atmosphere in the wretched place that was to be his seat seemed so oppressive. It was true, that the surface castle resembled only that owned by a minor lord, but the truth of Castamere was that 9/10ths of the castle were to be found below the hold-fast, well, if a majority of it remained intact.

Oh yes, there was an army of workers here, drawn from all over the Westerlands and perhaps beyond by the lure of good coin and work, but that did not help much when the task of restoring a castle was so arduous.

Farmers who had settled along the re-directed Castamere Stream were paid to evict their modest abodes. Furthermore, the charred curtain walls and towers of the above-ground keep had proved to be a refuge for begging brothers and the like, for a poor cover from the elements was better than no cover at all, and red-cloaks were needed to remove them.

Tyrion himself was perched upon his specially constructed chair, overlooking all the progress of the workers, and so he thought to himself, sighing audibly, this shall prove to be costlier than I thought; couldn't father have simply drowned them? What was the need to burn the above-ground keep?" for even though the keep had been constructed from stone, the heat of the burning wood had destabilized their structural integrity, and so the architects who had been hired, deemed it safer to construct a new keep.

As he drank from his goblet of wine, tallying the various costs for materials with the aid of his prodigious intellect, a shadow danced over his ledger, and so he looked up to see his page, Tywald Lannett, bringing with him one of the four architects that were working on the project, one Lorathi named Bryznos, who it would seem had constructed fortress-manses for atleast half a hundred Essosi merchant-princes.

Tyrion nodded to the man, and spoke, "Care for some wine, Bryznos? To which the man waved his hand away in response before speaking, "A man thinks a Lord will need two curtain walls for the castle, Lord Tyrion." His voice heavily laced with the thick Lorathi accent, before he continued, "Crenellations, arrowslits, two drawbridges, and perhaps two moats no? A man and his colleagues would recommend elevational isolation, but seeing as to a lord's seat's importance as an economic hub…. It would be best to let it be, not to mention the pitiful state of the underground facilities."

Tyrion shook his head slowly, "Alas, I do not grasp your architectural terminologies very well, my dear Lorathi friend. Though I do peruse the occasional book or three, you shall need to explain to me in a simpler fashion."

The Lorathi sighed, and cursed no doubt in his own tongue under his breath before he spoke, "Follow me, a man believes it would be simpler to show a lord." And saying so, the tall Lorathi sauntered off, and it was Tyrion's turn to curse as he followed the man on his short, stunted legs.

As they walked, Tyrion observed the work alongside the river, and of the draining, and to his surprise he could see that a skeleton had been excavated, wearing the armour of the Reyne Heraldry, probably a poor guard by the lack of any livery upon it.

It would seem that the work was accelerating at a feverish pace if bodies were already being excavated, but his observations would have to pause as the man spoke, pointing towards the freshly unsealed mine entrances, "A man says that we shall have to extend the first wall around those, lest the keep is taken and you get drowned once again when you go underground. A moat around the wall can be filled with fish, and their plants, netting a lord a steady supply of food for a while in the occasion of a siege."

Tyrion nodded, seeing the merits of the plan even if the costs would increase in doing the same, "The second wall, a man suggests to be of parity in height with the first, as the ground is too unstable to accommodate something larger even with the reinforcements we shall be implementing. This should enable guards from both sets of walls to fire at any besieging troops, where a larger outer wall would hinder their capabilities."

Tyrion spoke, "Your plan is sound enough, I suppose, however, I must tell you, widen the plans for the second wall, I mean to see a town in place outside the first wall, and a modestly large canal to a port on the Western Shore, which we shall develop as an extension for the town."

The architect paused to consider Tyrion's instructions, before speaking, "Similar to the Lannister' Lannisport, yes? Very well, it can be done. Perhaps an underground river, from here to a Lord's planned port-town would work as well, the complex can certainly accommodate for the same, though the excavation would be lengthy."

Tyrion smirked, for it was exactly what he had thought. The lack of an alternate means of escape had been the downfall of the Reynes, not to mention that for such a wealthy house, they had grown far too fond of their mine-houses, as if they were a pack of ground-hogs. And further-more, well, in Tyrion's mind atleast, making his seat to be a combination of both Lannister seats meant that the now Lord Casterly could hope to be smug in front of his Lord Father of Lannister.

For a few more minutes, the man droned on about all he recommended, and for the most part, Tyrion agreed, and even gave a suggestion as to allowing for burning oil to be poured onto any besiegers at the gates, with the aid of open pipes that snaked above into the towers flanking the gate, to which Bryznos seemed happy to include.

While previously, it had been 9/10ths of the castle that were underground, it would change to half and half if Tyrion had any say which would make the castle quite large, but still no Rock, nor even a Highgarden.

Bidding farewell to the architect, Tyrion decided to waddle about the site, so as to inspect everything yet again. And while doing so, his eye caught the sight of a person who seemed very out of place, a tall man, thin yet appearing to be muscled, with black hair falling over his eyes, and wearing black oiled ringmail over boiled leather, a round steel half-helm with a noseguard tucked under his arm, arguing with a red-cloak.

Tyrion waddled over to the scene, and the guardsman bowed hastily, seeing who was approaching, while the man curtly nodded. Tyrion spoke to the guard, "What seems to be the problem?" to which the guard responded, "M'lord, this riff-raff won't go away, he insists he wishes to talk to you about joining your employ, and I kept insisting that nobody has need of scum such as him, especially not a highborn lord such as yourself."

Tyrion cocked his head before looking at the man and speaking, "I'll be the judge of that, and you may leave now." To which the guard bobbed his head up and down thrice before moving away.

Tyrion spoke, "Well? What do you want?"

The man spoke, "The name's Bronn, m'lord, sellsword-by-trade, though I'm a womanizer by choice.", smirking at Tyrion.

Tyrion laughed and spoke, "Well and good, I could do with womanizers about me, but pray tell, what use would I have for for sellswords?" to which the man smiled and spoke, "A sellsword eventually gets tired of selling his sword m'lord, especially when your only clients left are fat merchants who'll pay you a tuppence for saving their hides. I heard that Lord Lannister's son now had a new seat at Castamere, and I thought to myself, a fresh Lord like that could always use a couple of knightly retainers no?."

Tyrion laughed yet again, before looking Bronn in the eye, "And are you a knight, Bronn?" to which the man laughed and spoke, "No m'lord, never took those vows, can't say I'd find much coin in that, though I'm a better sword than any as I'm sure my lord of Lannister could use."

Tyrion thought about it, yes, he is no knight, but he has the air of a battle-hardened killer, and talks like an insolent black-hearted rogue, and so he spoke, "Very well, though I no longer am a Lannister, our beloved King Robert thought fit to grant me my little request to make me a Casterly by name."

Bronn cocked his own head and spoke, "Aren't all the Casterlys dead? Seem to think about it, I remember hearing a tale about how Lann the Clever squeezed himself into that great big rock of theirs, by covering himself up in butter and buggered all of the Casterly women, and screaming into the men's ears, making him the Lord of the Rock" And the man scratched his stubble before continuing, "Casterlys, Reynes, Tarbecks, can't say I know the lords of the Kingdom, but seems to me that all of them are extinct houses, a bad omen no?"

Tyrion looked at the man and spoke, "As much as I enjoy the image of my ancestor doing so, the logical conclusion is that Lann was a retainer of the Lord Casterly, and married his daughter, and seeing as how the Casterly had no sons, it passed to Lann, making him the Lord, and his name famous." Tyrion scratched his own ear before continuing, "Two of those houses are extinct, not three."

The sellsword laughed and spoke, "Your little resurrection of House Casterly doesn't count, Lord Imp, not every lord has the privilege of coming back from the dead I suppose." Tyrion laughed yet again, "No, my dear sellsword, though I suppose the nice drowned Reyne skeletons before us envy me for the same, I mean that though Reyne and Casterly are extinct, House Tarbeck yet exists, if only in the female line, the last two daughters of Ellyn Reyne are in the order of the Silent Sisters if I remember correctly."

The sellsword ruffled his own hair before speaking, "To think of it, whether these Tarbecks are corpses or part of that order of corpse-fuckers, makes no difference, no?" to which both men erupted in peals of laughter, and Tyrion spoke, wiping away a tear of laughter form his eye, "I like you well enough, so very well, you shall have your place as a loyal knight of House Casterly, though I'll have to find someone to knight you in the mean-time before you can take your oath of service. And to be frank, taking you unto my service would make my Lord Father disappointed, a delightful prospect if I say so myself."

And having heard the same, the sellsword bowed, and left to no doubt sample some of the whores that had made their lodgings amongst the small town that had cropped up to house all the workers and sate their needs.

Tyrion himself groaned and waddled back to his tent, for he knew that more tallying was in order, and as he did so, occasionally nodding in turn to every Lannister guard who saluted him, he thought to himself, I wonder how my dear brother is doing, freezing his balls off in the North, would he rather be kissing Cersei? Though what he saw in her except a mad mirror of himself, I shall never know. Come to think of it, has he fucked her? No… even Jaime wouldn't do that, he loves his white cloak, so even if he kisses Cersei and grabs her teats from time to time, I doubt that he's ever put his pecker in her cunt. And thinking so he shook his head, for thoughts of his siblings having at it in a bed nearly made him retch, parted the curtain entrance and entered his tent.

He was surprised to see his Uncle Kevan there, and so he spoke, good-naturedly, "Well, Uncle, how is the future Lord of Casterly Rock? Care for some wine?" and not waiting for a response, Tyrion poured himself a glass, and another out of habit.

Kevan smiled good-naturedly at him, his close-cropped, yellow beard making a good accompaniment for the warmth that the portly man exuded, though Tyrion thought that some of it was near a grimace. His uncle took the proffered glass and sipped lightly before speaking, "It was an ill done thing by Tywin to make me his heir, though it is only provisional, until he can convince Jaime to get rid of his white cloak. I don't ever expect to rule, I have a feeling that my dear elder brother shall outlive even Lancel."

Tyrion snorted, before speaking, "Ill-done or not, if dear father ever passes, you would make a fine lord nevertheless uncle, and I do hope you will not begrudge the Lord of Castamere from visiting his family at the time. And as for Jaime getting rid of his white cloak, when has my Lord Father ever been able to get his children to do as he pleases?"

Kevan sighed, his smile finally eroding away, before speaking, "Tyrion… you should not speak so harshly of Tywin… he realized that he has been neglecting this part of the Westerlands for far too long, and having another branch of Lannister in power here… even if you choose to call yourself Casterly in a flight of fancy, only serves to increase the power, wealth and prestige of House Lannister. You are your father's son, whether he sees it or not, more-so than Jaime or Cersei, and I am sure you will rule here diligently, so as to not cause the Westerlings and whomever you choose to rule over Tarbeck Hall any cause for complaint."

Tyrion snorted, "I'm of half a mind to make a sellsword the Lord of Tarbeck Hall, if only to spite father." And seeing Kevan raise his eyebrows, Tyrion continued quickly, "Hush uncle, don't give me that look, I am not so foolish. Perhaps a Crakehall for the same, or one of our cousins of the manses would do. "

Kevan gave a short chuckle for the same before continuing, "Once your castle is finished, I believe it is in your interests to find a lady wife. And stay faithful to her until you get an heir, your seed is ill-spent on whores once you are married, dear nephew."

It was Tyrion's turn to raise an eyebrow as he spoke, "Stay faithful to one woman until I get a child? The whores would go begging from Casterly Rock to Dorne, Uncle. Though speaking of Dorne, Prince Doran has been unusually active of late, what with his daughter's planned marriage and his brother's grand expedition beyond the wall. What do you think of him, uncle?"

Kevan seemed mildly surprised, and swilled his cup around before speaking, "Prince Doran? I cannot claim to know him, though there is little doubt he bears no love for Tywin… nor me I suppose. I did meet the man once, when Joanna… your mother was still alive and good friends with his mother Loreza and Queen Rhaella. Stafford had found himself to be busy at the time to accompany her to court, and so he saw fit to request me to go in his place, and as Tywin did not have any need for me at the time, I accompanied her."

Tyrion laughed, "Uncle, you sly dog, you sought to convince my mother to reciprocate father's feelings for her by going with no?" to which Kevan gave a non-committal look which Tyrion knew to be a yes, before motioning for his uncle to continue, "He struck me as a quiet, pensive and subtle man, and he is only three years my junior if I remember correctly, but there was that same intelligence in his eyes that your father possesses, though he struck me as of more a cautious type."

Tyrion cocked his eyebrows before speaking, "A kindred spirit to yourself then, uncle? Made friends with him, did you?" to which Kevan shook his head before speaking, "No, we did enjoy our conversations at the time, but any good-will he had towards me, I suppose, would have eroded… with the death of his sister. If there has ever been a mistake your father has committed, it was not being more specific with the deaths of Elia Martell and her children. Two pillows would have sufficed for the children, and the Princess could have been used as a better bargaining chip to keep the peace with Dorne, there was little need to set beasts such as Clegane and Lorch after them."

Tyrion noted, so dear uncle is fine with the murder of children, it is the manner of their murder that concerns him, and placed a hand on his chin before speaking, "There is peace anyhow, we have Jon Arryn to thank for that, and whatever Prince Doran is doing right now can hardly be anything more than the standard displays of their fabled horses that the Dornish are wont to do."

Kevan seemed confused as he spoke, "You haven't heard? Oberyn didn't take sand-steeds with him North, Jaime sent a letter to Tywin mentioning how the Martells have seemingly purchased the entire supply of camels in the world, and have taken to using them as steeds."

It was Tyrion's turn to be confused as he spoke, "Camels? I suppose they are hardy beasts, Maester Jon Balgrave, said that they handled both deserts and tundra with equal ease, with even the lack of food not daunting them for atleast a week. Archmaester Klaive once said that Qarth's Camelry could rout even the chivalry of the Reach as horses are afraid of the beasts, though the rest of the Council of Archmaesters at the time rubbished the claim, drawing from evidence of a Dothraki horde crushing a Norvoshi host of Camels at the time, though Klaive and a few other maesters argued yet again that if you fill an enemy's camel with enough arrows, whether it can cause fear in the horse you ride can hardly be put to test, and that the Norvoshi host was ill-armoured."

Kevan nodded, seemingly mildly interested before speaking, "Well and good I suppose, Dorne is most prone to suffering from the whims of nature, apart from the Great Spring Sickness that ravaged the realm, to which the Dornish simply closed their borders, not to mention that it is the North with which it shares it's unfortunate status. Camels might alleviate the droughts and dust-storms a bit."

Tyrion nodded, "Well and good uncle, but what do I owe your presence here to?" to which Kevan walked over to the stand upon which the wine jug was placed before pouring himself another cup before speaking, "I came to see how you were doing, Tyrion, I am after all your uncle, and I suppose Tygett and Gerion's spirits would haunt me if I did not make sure the progress of your undertaking was not happening smoothly."

Tyrion chuckled half-heartedly, "I miss them too, Uncle, though I am thankful that you and Aunt Genna care for me so. How is Tyrek, if I may ask? Uncle Tyg was always good to me, so looking after his son is our duty."

Kevan seemed saddened as he spoke, "The boy is happy enough I suppose, and shows signs of inheriting his father's prowess in battle. It has been five years since Tyg died of the pox, and to escape his grief, Gerion set sail in his fool's quest. Your father sent men to look for him you know, and they reported to him recently that they traced him to as far as Volantis, where half his crew deserted him, and he was forced to buy slaves to continue his journey into Valyria. Slaves…. Tywin had the men who deserted Gerion found and hanged them all, for betraying the family, a just revenge I suppose… though it was ill done on Gery's part on buying slaves."

Tyrion's face curled into the same grim one that was upon Kevan's, for Gerion had always been his and Jaime's favourite uncle, and the circumstances of his disappearance… and almost definitely-likely death were saddening too.

Tyrion spoke again, "And of Joy? How is the child?" to which Kevan simply shook his head and spoke, "A sweet child, but a lonely one."

Tyrion downed his cup one last time before speaking, "Well uncle, it was good to meet you, now, if you shall excuse me, I believe I have the joy of seducing the fair maiden that is my ledger, good day." And as Kevan left, hugging Tyrion farewell, Tyrion thought of how life would be now if both his other uncles would still live.

====================X====================

Jon Snow

The party today comprised of fifteen riders, half of that of the ranging to the Fist of the First Men. And accompanying them this time, were only ten riders from the South, led again by Ser Barristan. The reason for their vastly reduced numbers was merely due to the fact that they would be undertaking a journey far less perilous, as they traced the western castles to spot for any wildling parties scaling the wall.

They were but a league from Icemark when the parties began to slow and the conversations began to flow, for the day prior, much news had flown across the Wall from the black brothers at Eastwatch. For one, Stannis Baratheon and Jaime Lannister had nearly met with the Stranger, as a Leviathan and a Sea Dragon locked in battle had surfaced near them, annihilating a wildling longship.

But that was the least of it, or so a watchman named Garth Greyfeather said, "Bloody sod got into a fight with Stannis, or duel rather as those highborns call it." And saying so, he eyed Oberyn before continuing, "Mean no offence, Prince Oberyn, but apparently the Kingslayer started the duel because he thought Stannis was as dishonourable as him due to his actions way back when at the Rebellion."

Scratching a scar across his nose, the large swarthy man made some hacking noises before continuing, "Apparently old Stannis got the idea that he forsook his… duty to the king for a duty to his family, and the Kingslayer right snorted and said he was your Uncle and Stannis merely chose a brother over an uncle."

Oberyn drawled, "First cousin, once removed I believe, but that is neither here or there, so go on Garth." And almost as if expecting something gave a look out of the side of his eye in Jon's direction. Jon thought to himself Along with the Aegons, of old, the Baratheons too are my kin, if somewhat distant, though King Robert is just as likely to try to crack my head open with a Warhammer as scream praises to my mother and hug me, But Jon shook his head to continue to listen to the ranger's spiel.

Garth continued, "Right you are, my Prince, but anyhow, Stannis was apparently a better sword than anyone ever gave him credit for, he even punched the Lannister's pretty face I think, though my mate said that towards the end, before the large fish popped its head out of the water, the Kingslayer was dancing circles around Stannis." Oberyn it seemed was actually piqued as he spoke; his left eyebrow raised high, "Stannis near kept up with Jaime Lannister? Interesting, maybe if he ever participated in a melee or three he would be a worthy opponent."

Garth nodded and opened his mouth to speak, "Well, since the big fish made its appearance, both of them were put off balance or something, and so they decided to call it a draw, though the true victor is obvious if I say so myself. But the best part comes now; apparently the Kingslayer broke his silence on why he did what he did to gain his title." And as he said so, Jon looked out of the corner of his eye, to see that Ser Barristan had made his way right next to Garth, and Jon remembered that the old knight had been a member of his grandfather's kingsguard.

Garth scratched at his chin again as he spoke, "Apparently the Mad King's hand had enough wildfire buried under King's Landing that the entire city would have gone up in flames had Ser Jaime not killed the Hand. Apparently Aerys had been screaming burn them all a dozen times, before Jaime put him out of his misery. I don't know about the keeping of fancy oaths, the only one I'll ever keep to is my oath as a black brother, but it seems to me that saving half a million souls is worth dishonouring yourself."

A free-rider called out, "Damn, then the golden bastard saved my ma and da and my little brothers, too, by killing them. I was off at the Ruby Ford at the time." And the other riders similarly spoke up, but it was not their reactions that Jon was interested in half-so-much as Ser Barristan's.

The old knight spoke, near forlornly, "Rossart… so much folly from the Pyromancers, and only a young white cloak to stem the tide… I was too harsh on the boy…" to which Jon found himself bubbling with curiosity, but Garth it would seem had yet more to say as he continued, "Then apparently Stannis got it into his head that there might have been similarities between himself and the Kingslayer after all, but told him that the problem had ended when he killed the Pyromancer, he could have simply tied up Aerys."

Another free-rider called out, "Rope in the Red Keep? I doubt the Kingslayer could find any in time before the mad-man cut himself on the throne a dozen times." To which another called out, "He had a white cape that should have sufficed to wrap around a gaunt mad-man tightly." To which the rest of the Stormlander party began to hoot. And with that they split apart yet again, but Jon found himself riding alongside Ser Barristan, and with Oberyn flanking the venerable knight on the other side. It was Oberyn whom spoke, near reading Jon's mind as he said, "I wonder, why was Jaime Lannister the only Kingsguard left in the Red Keep? As I recall, yourself and my uncle were at the Trident along with Darry." And Jon pursed his lips shut, for he knew somewhat of the situation at the Tower of Joy.

Barristan gave a long look at the prince, and to Jon it seemed as if it were a mournful one, before finally breaking the silence with, "Ser Whent, Ser Gerold and Ser Dayne were ordered by Prince Rhaegar to go to Dorne; though I know not why exactly. However, it is of my opinion that it was to safe-guard Lyanna Stark."

Prince Oberyn snorted, and Jon felt his ears go pink, but Oberyn spoke out loud, a drawl that were as slow-flowing as honey, "Three White Brothers to guard one little she-wolf that caught the eye of Rhaegar? Seems excessive, when any one would have sufficed for the purpose."

Jon spoke quietly to himself, "My birth caused the deaths of not only my mother, but my father and grandfather too, for wont of commanders and guards." And almost as if Oberyn had heard him, the flamboyant prince spoke, "Dayne was an efficient commander, imagine if Rhaegar had not been so concerned with his prize and decided that using a Kingsguard as a commander of a portion of the Reach's forces would have worked better, the first in a long series of mistakes that cost my sister and her children their lives."

Barristan looked even more sorrowful as he spoke, "Aye… I suppose so… Mace Tyrell has always been…slow, perhaps if the Sword of the Morning had found his way to the Reach forces, and taken but a portion to the Trident… the Kingdoms would be far different." And the White Knight slowly traced his armoured fingers over the clasps of his White Cloak.

Oberyn snorted, "That is neither here nor there. If a man is presented with three kings, and told that one is a lustful drunk, one is a mad-man who burns people, and one is a dreamer with a fancy for kidnapping, and told to choose, none of them would seem very palatable to the taste." And ran his hand through his hair, fidgeting with it so as to ensure no ice had formed in it.

And as the party rode on towards Icemark, Jon found that Oberyn's had found himself between Ser Barristan and Jon. And as Jon saw the ruins of Icemark in the distance, Ser Barristan it would seem, had found his voice again as he spoke, "I am not entirely sure it was a kidnapping… the circumstances do not entirely match for me."

Oberyn laughed loud, and laughed long, his voice bouncing through the boughs and woods, and causing several birds to fly away. As his laughter peeled away, Oberyn spoke, "So Lyanna Stark took off with Rhaegar because they loved each other? Next you would tell me she whelped a babe and he is hidden somewhere, ready to conquer the Seven Kingdoms again. Truly… for one who would have defeated Dayne if he was without Dawn, your mind seems to be slipping, Selmy." But Jon noticed that Giantsbane had been made to slow a bit, and Jon and Selmy were near parallel to each other when Oberyn had said those words.

He also noted that Oberyn had finished his short speech with his left hand pointing in Jon's direction, and though the older knight had followed the Prince's hand on what was no doubt instinct, before looking back at Oberyn.

Jon cursed at the Prince in his mind, wondering if the Red Viper planned to cause trouble for Jon before he ever reached Dorne and met his brother. But thankfully, it would seem the old knight thought nothing of the same, and simply rode ahead, in silence.

As they finally made it to Icemark, and Jon got off Snow, he looked to the woods, for he almost thought there was something staring at him, and for a moment it seemed like nothing, but then, between some bushes, Jon could make out a pair of wolves…. Abnormally large wolves, and so he thought to himself, direwolves, and almost as if they had noticed that they had been spotted, the pair trotted away, and Jon wondered whether this were an omen.

A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter, been a bit swarmed with work. Next one will be regular length. And as for those who want to debate of who is the superior sword between Dayne and Selmy, it is merely Oberyn's belief that if Dayne did not have Dawn, Selmy would triumph in a duel.