As I make my way to my first lesson with Jaime, I can't help but feel excited. Not anxious, not worried or nervous. Pure excitement about learning to fight with a sword in a practical way.
As with many people that have an interest in fantasy, I managed to grab some fencing classes back in the day, as well as some classes in historical martial arts. I already know some basics of swordfighting, but what we practiced there might not be even close to what is being done here. I distinctly remember Bronn and Jon Snow using grappling techniques combined with swordfighting, something which is frowned upon in the world of proper fencing.
"You think you're so clever, eh?" a voice behind me says, interrupting my thoughts and my hurried walk. A voice I've learned to recognize here.
I turn around to see my older brother approaching me, and start regretting my lack of escort. I wanted to be a big prince again, to my detriment. Thankfully, I don't see his pet doggy Sandor anywhere either, so we are on even footing, should the worst come to pass.
"You've grown ballsy since last time. I thought I've hammered...", he accented that word like the punchline of a joke. To my great dismay, it's actually a little funny considering he did hammer Tommen against a wall "...my point in quite nicely. I hate having to repeat myself."
He stops in front of me, a hair's breadth between us, and continues his monologue: "You think a sword will stop me? You think uncle Jaime will help you? You think father will help? You're weak. Nobody helps weaklings here. They're just tolerating you because of mother, something I have no obligation to do. Now, time to learn your place!", he announces, and the clash begins.
As an adult with normal empathy, I should feel bad for fighting a fourteen year old kid. But, when he towers over me, radiating malicious intent, it's hard to do so. His punches are telegraphed and easily avoided, and his defense nonexistent. In a street brawl, he would be dropped by anyone with two boxing classes under their belt, but I aim to tire him out, to avoid backlash. He aims for the stomach, knowing that bruising my face would earn him Cersei's wrath. He keeps up his rabid onslaught, as I evade his blows.
"Come here, you shit!", Joffrey yells. Like a true spoiled kid, he demands from others what he obviously cannot get himself.
I swiftly evade, expecting him to stop this soon, He goes in for a choke with an unexpected speed, compared to his punches, from which I quickly manage to escape, following it up with a hard shove. This push was the tipping point of our little scuffle, since it made him lose his balance and trip. I seize the opportunity by going behind him, with all the quickness an 8 year old kid can muster.
"What…", he utters before I cut his thoughts off by grabbing him in a chokehold.
"You're right Joffrey.", I finally speak through my teeth while holding him, he tries hitting me but can't muster any meaningful strength beyond the third punch.
"Nobody helps weaklings in this world.", I continue, watching his hysteria wane and his fighting spirit die.
"So take care around these shadowy halls, weakling, because I won't show you mercy if you try this again!" I finish my monologue with a roar and let him go with a push.
The vicious idiot prince stumbles, falls, and gets back up again, all in mere moments after I release him from my hold, and runs off while looking at me, eyes and mouth agape in shock.
Once the adrenaline calms down, I proceed, wondering how late am I to my first spar with the Kingslayer.
This is not the only concern on my mind though, as I begin to think about how I should've handled this situation.
Tyrion Lannister, my other uncle, in another timeline would have been the Hand of the King. During his brief rule, he would've made petty threats and attacks like this to his internal enemies like Cersei, Pycelle and others, which made him a very entertaining character to watch, but also made him a lot of enemies that went against him at the first, and best, chance they got.
I wonder... Have I just made that same mistake? Did I buy myself a few moments of peace, in exchange for Joffrey tormenting me if and when he takes the throne? Time will tell.
I enter the training yard and hope Jaime's wooden swords manage to beat the anxiety out of me.
"You're late.", Jaime introduces himself, "I thought you'd be here sooner, with how my sister described your eagerness"
A tall man with long blonde hair that would make vikings blush is standing opposite of me, holding a look towards the distance, as if to passively inform me of his indifference. He isn't wearing Kingsguard armor, but has adorned some regular clothes with a green gambeson on top. Weird that he chose green, and not red; but he does like to toy with his Lannister legacy that his father forces upon him.
He turns towards me and immediately gives me an inquisitive look. "What happened to your cheek?", he asks. I didn't even feel the pain from the punches Joffrey tried to pull thanks to the adrenaline, but I guess my face tells another story.
"Joffrey caught up to me and decided to give me a warmup." I answer.
Jaime processes that information in his own way before answering: "Never seen that side of him…"
I don't know if it was a sarcastic answer or a genuine one. Neither would surprise me, considering Jaime likes to keep his true thoughts a secret and Cersei has nothing but praise for her little golden lion.
Fuck, I just remembered Jaime's second biggest secret – Aerys' wildfire caches.
"Are you ready, little prince?", Jaime proceeded. There will be time for the spicy easter egg hunt, and considering this city survives a siege or two in the series without any explosive surprises, I believe we're safe.
'Yes, ser Jaime." I answer, eliciting a smile from my tutor. "Wait, where's king Robert?"I add, remembering what Bobby said, "Father told me he might come and watch."
"He's probably running late, we should begin without him. Now, grab a sword and let me teach you the basic stance...", my new mentor says, and I eagerly follow, picking up a sword and getting distracted by some distant yelling.
Jaime must have noticed it as well. He turns around and I follow his gaze to a familiar figure approaching us.
"You dare start without the squire's father? Without the king?!" he approaches us with a smile.
"He is not my squire yet, your grace.", Jaime responds in a slightly arrogant tone. Enough to be noticed, but not enough to warrant a reaction. I just hope Cersei didn't bruise her knees too much convincing Jaime to play knight with me.
I remember that I have to play the part of a kid with parents, so I drop the sword and go give the big man a hug, much to his delight. "Look at you, a real soldier now.", Robert laughs. The smell of alcohol is unmistakable.
"Now then", he lets me go back to Jaime, "Let's see if your uncle can teach you something more than how to kill a mad fool!" he laughs at his own quip. I turn to Jaime and catch the anger seeping through his aloof expression.
"Shall we spar, ser Jaime?", I say theatrically, trying to improve his mood. "We shall, brave prince.", ser Jaime plays along, his mood improved.
We then proceed to learn what I've already known, with a few details added or omitted. I can't say I've expected to learn Jaime's secret Mortal Kombat moves on our first class, but I can see that he is pleasantly surprised by how fast I'm progressing. Today's class was on the topic footwork and basic angles of attack, but since I already knew them, that allowed him time to go into detail and finely tune those movements to perfection, instead of drilling in the basics.
All the meanwhile, Robert was watching and cheering whenever I've shown that I learned something, congratulating me. I couldn't help but feel proud, despite knowing that a fair amount of patronizing went into the cheering.
"Watch out!", Jaime said, as he swung his sword from the side, but I blocked it all the same. "Good one, but you can block with your sword tip down, as well. From there you can make a counter attack like this", he explains while demonstrating slowly the movement I needed to learn. "Now, again!", he tries the same attack again, and I apply my new knowledge and quickly hit him back.
"Watch out there, Kingslayer, you could've lost a hand there!", Robert jokes. Suddenly, the joke hits hard. The scene of Jaime losing a hand replays in my mind, making me lose my focus.
"Pay attention to me, not to your father.", the Kingslayer commands, after striking my arm and bringing out a yelp from me, "He isn't attacking you, I am. In a battle, there's yelling and taunting and screaming everywhere. Don't let yourself get distracted by those things.", he elaborates, but I am still dwelling on the aforementioned scene. Watching it didn't strike me as much as, say, the Red Wedding, but what came after did. Jaime, the renowned knight, spiraling into depression, scorned by both his father and sister as a one-handed dolt was just sad to watch. It's like if Mozart lost a hand. Who would he be without it? It's a phobia I didn't know I had until then.
"Hey, Tommen, my hand is still here.", Jaime said in a soothing voice, breaking my reverie, as if he was reading my thoughts. "I know you don't want to see me getting hurt, but it will take a lot more than a wooden sword to injure me. Now, let's continue. Do not be afraid to strike me. Don't hold back, because one day you might face an enemy that won't offer you mercy. If you want to protect yourself, and the people you care about, from such an enemy, you need to give it your best and nothing less.", the pep-talk continued. "Now, face me. You've learned the basics, let's see if you can use them properly, young squire-to-be."
We get into position, fixing gazes at each other, and prepare to unleash the clash of claws.
Alas, our duel of destiny ended before it even began. Cersei called out my name and Joffrey was there beside her.
"Tommen!", mother's stern voice summons me. I shuffle on towards her, thinking of the ways my older brother could've warped the story to make me the villain.
I approach her and her angry look softens into one of bewilderment. "What is that on your cheek?", she asks. Game, set and match. I cast a glance towards Joffrey before giving my answer:
"It was Joffrey. He attacked me before I went to uncle Jaime."
"He's lying! He nearly choked me to death! You probably got that bruise here, fighting with ser Jaime!", the petulant boy on Cersei's left responds.
"Probably, you say?", I follow up, "Where else might I have gotten it from? Just admit it was you."
"Enough, Tommen.", Cersei interjects, "Joffrey said you attacked him and nearly choked him. I gave you permission for swordfighting, but it seems you're not mature enough to handle that, and only seek the means for vengeance upon your brother."
"What? He attacked me!", I pause, thinking of who could help me remedy this situation before I lose my hard-earned sword privileges with Jaime. Jaime! Of course!
"Jai...Ser Jaime", I correct myself, before proceeding with naming my witness. "Ser Jaime has seen the bruise on my cheek when I first came here, you can ask him."
My main witness, along with my father were just arriving to check out what the commotion is about.
"Uncle Jaime", I turn towards my teacher, "Did I come here with a bruise on my cheek or did I earn it during the spar?"
"We haven't even sparred", Jaime began. "We were about to have our first spar, but your mother and brother came and called for you."
"You had a bruise?", the hopelessly out-of-the-loop Robert chimed in.
"Yes, have you not seen it when he greeted you?", Jaime asked, surprised.
Robert squints at me, and the look of realization finally sets in. "Oh, yeah. There it is, yes. I thought you gave it to him, Kingslayer.", he says. He really wasn't meant to be a father.
"We started after you arrived, your grace." Jaime explained. I owe the guy a beer for this.
"Well, Joffrey? What else have you got to say?", Robert asked him gruffly.
Joffrey stayed silent. Not because he wanted to, he was very eager to say something, anything at all, but no words came to mind. His bulletproof plan shattering before his very eyes. Cersei could just shake her head in disbelief.
"Incredible. Just incredible." Cersei looks at the sky in disappointment and exasperation. "Out of all the things you do to poor Tommen, you now want to twist your own attack against him?! I can't believe you would interrupt me for something like that…", was what I managed to catch while they walked away, out of hearing distance, with Cersei holding Joffrey's hand tightly as she leads him away.
"That boy…", Robert comments, "He will be a headache for sure."
"Why would he even try and blame Tommen, when he was the one who attacked him?", Jaime wondered out loud. Personally, I shudder to imagine what goes on in that demon's lair of a mind.