Chapter 2: Time to Think

Casterly Rock was... intimidating, to say the least.

The entire fortification was quite literally set into the mountain beneath it, overlooking the ocean on one side, and a steep incline on the other, negating much of the need for anything resembling a traditional defensive system. The place had no ramparts, nor any stone walls, save for the ones lining the narrow passage leading to the main entrance. This place was, from the ground up, an attacking army's nightmare.

Hell, I was even reasonably sure that it could withstand an attack from dragons, given the sheer depth to which some of the passages in the Rock descended and it supposedly went even further, if one followed the excavated tunnels used to mine the veins of gold directly beneath the castle. Alas, I was barred from venturing that far down, for fear that it wasn't safe for me to go.

Still, aside from the obvious utility built into the design of the place, it still remained the single most luxurious locale I had ever been, in this life, and the last. Most rooms featured a hearth, the comfiest red furnishings that money could buy, and a vast array of artwork and tapestries lining the walls, all detailed with as much gold as one could tastefully pack into a place. Hell, even the ceiling and walls of most rooms was practically lined with gold.

Forget the mines beneath the keep. There was a veritable fortune in gold simply plastered across the walls.

I mean for fuck's sakes, even the chamber pots were cast in gold!

Opulence and utility aside, Casterly Rock had much else that appealed to me. For one thing, the place was far quieter, whilst retaining much of the labyrinthian nature of the Red Keep. This made it far easier to evade the tender mercies of my parents, and to excuse my absence with the falsity of an excited young boy exploring the keep, and occasionally getting lost within its bowels. What's more, due to the absolute nature of the authority exercised by my grandfather, the eponymous Tywin Lannister, I was certain that not even Varys's wandering eyes could reach me, though I was also sure that they had been replaced with eyes of Tywin's own.

Still, the atmosphere at Casterly Rock remained a breath of fresh air for me, quite literally, given the absence of the putrid stench that clung to King's Landing like a plague. Supposedly, it had once been worse than it was now, but the tender mercies of one Tyrion Lannister rectified the problem swiftly enough.

Speaking of which, the little imp was something of a delight. Once you got over his hideous visage, which was more in line with the version described in the books than the one depicted in the show, a genuinely funny, and even somewhat kind man had been revealed besides. Though I could tell he still held some black hatred in his heart, likely over the fate of Tysha, he seemed genuinely delighted to be in the presence of another relative besides Jaime who not only tolerated him, but seemed to genuinely like him. In many ways, it was quite like being a child again. Excused from my lessons during my stay at Casterly Rock, I had time to play with Myrcella, to share japes with Tyrion, and even to badger Barristan and Jaime both into sharing some war-stories with me.

In the age before radio, television or even print media, embellished tales of daring do and of bloody battles was as close as I could get to entertainment, and being as starved of stimulation as I was, I eagerly took whatever I could get.

Still, fun and games aside, I remained keenly aware that this brief respite from the harsh reality of life in Westeros wouldn't last long. To that effect, I was aware that I needed to continue planning, and that Casterly Rock was the perfect opportunity to do that without arousing suspicions.

So, what was my plan?

Simply, it was to bring Tyrion to Kings Landing with me. It was a ludicrously simple move to make, and yet it remained one that would go on to yield dividends far into the future if played right. Not only would bringing Tyrion have the effect of granting me a trusted confidant who wasn't a child, his position as an adult would enable him to execute political manoeuvrings that I, in my capacity as a child, simply wouldn't be able to get away with. He could be used to effectively counter Baelish in his position as Master-of-Coin, given Tyrion's competency with numbers, and the same went for taming Pycelle and Janos Slynt. The possibilities were almost endless.

Even better, it was a plan that was easy to implement. Convincing Tyrion to escape the clutches of his father under the guise of an invitation from his beloved nephew was probably the quickest sell in history. Father surely wouldn't mind, and would likely appreciate Tyrion's wit and find common ground with his whoremongering tendencies. The real problem, however, remained in convincing my grandfather and mother. The rivalry between Cersei and Tyrion in both the book and the show was notorious, and when she had heard of my extension of such an invitation, she had been absolutely livid. Tywin retained his composure, likely more intrigued than anything else at such an offer being extended by a grandson who was, by all accounts, completely unexceptional.

I didn't doubt that Tywin would let Tyrion go if I simply asked nicely enough, but Cersei would throw a fit. If I was going to convince her, I would need a reason, and likely a good one. If, however, I gave such a reason, it raised the possibility of arousing the interest of Tywin and of the rest of the Small Council, and that would be worse than not having Tyrion there at all.

The tallest necks got cut first, and there was no more sure-fire a method of ensuring your safety in Westeros than flying under the radar.

If this was going to work, then I needed a justification that was simplistic enough that Tywin would buy that a normal child could come up with, and simultaneously important enough that Cersei would be able to set her hatred of her brother aside.

Hence, why I was standing here, in my grandfather's solar, his eyes boring into mine as mother fumed behind me. After ensuring that I was good and uncomfortable, he finally broke the silence, "So, your mother tells me that you wish to take my son with you to the capital. Is this correct?"

I waited a moment to ensure he had finished, knowing I would have to mind my manners if I was to succeed, "Yes, Lord-Grandfather."

His tone remained neutral, which was neither a good nor a bad sign, "Why?"

I attempted to convey as much earnestness into my tone as possible, "Because, Lord-Grandfather, I thought he made for terrifically good company, and I wanted to spend more time with him."

I could hear mother growl behind me, though she was promptly silenced by a glare from her father. He returned his gaze to me, and then spoke, "Tyrion tells me you had another reason to make such a request. What is it?"

I let a touch of nervousness creep into my voice, "Well, Lord-Grandfather, I had been told that Uncle Tyrion had been placed in charge of the sewers of Casterly Rock upon his sixteenth name-day, and that he had managed and expanded the system well. I thought, since he had done such a good job here, that if he were to be placed in charge of a project to refurbish and expand the sewers of Kings Landing, that he might see a repeat of his success. Kings Landing in its current form is terribly smelly, grandfather, but until coming here, I had never realised just how smelly it was. If at all possible, I would like to see the city cleaned up some. If nothing else, it would keep Tyrion busy, preventing him from indulging too deeply in whores and wine, as I know you try and stop him from doing."

Grandfather hummed and leaned back in his seat, flicking his eyes towards mother, prompting her to speak, "Well, I suppose getting him to build the sewers is an appropriate enough task for the little wretch." Though her tone was laced with reluctance, she was unable to hide her pleasure at the thought that Tyrion would be spending the next few months at the very least knee-deep in the shit of Kings Landing.

Tywin, similarly, seemed pleased at the prospect of getting Tyrion out of his hair, though I could tell he was not eager to let his son out from under his thumb. Whilst mother appeared satisfied with my reasoning, Tywin Lannister was not one to cede a point so easily, not even to his grandson, "And how, exactly, were you planning to organise such an endeavour? I doubt you have the funds necessary for such a venture in your purse, nor the influence needed within the realm to raise the money through the Small Council. So, what was your plan?"

I let the silence rest in the air for a few moments, taking the time to ponder my response. I couldn't be sure, but it was a strong likelihood that grandfather suspected I was smarter than I let on, at the very least. That meant I had two options of how to proceed. Either I could act the fool, and attempt to dissuade such notions, though that had the downside of leaving Tyrion in Casterly Rock, as well as offering no guarantee of working. Or, I could double down, and begin to let a vestige of my intelligence and experience shine through by actually solving the problem of fundraising, which would likely guarantee Tyrion would accompany, though at the cost of attracting grandfather's attention, and because she was stood right behind me, that of my mother as well.

It was certainly a risk, but as I always like to say: nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Feigning uncertainty, I began to slowly speak, "Well, I wasn't completely clear about how to do that, though I had some ideas."

"Share them."

I stuttered, the delay due to my nerves rather than any calculated move, though it can't have hurt, "Well, my first idea was to simply hold an auction at the next few tourneys. You know, sell the rights for various Lords to have different parts of the system named after them and have their names forever immortalised in a stone plaque, that sort of thing. Given the large rewards offered to the winners of the jousts and melee's, I expect it should not be too hard to appeal to their sense of charity, especially when they get into their cups, or maybe even to their desire to improve their standing with the next generation of Royalty. I expect it should not be too hard to cover perhaps an eighth of the cost of such a project in a year, which ought to be enough funds to restore a single district of Kings Landing. From then, I expect that the options for obtaining funding will open up significantly, especially when people begin to see the efficacy of such a project."

Silence. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I had expressed an understanding of the world that a boy of my age simply shouldn't have. Though the notion of simply asking for the funds was about as infantile and optimistic as it got, given the circumstances, and the way I had gone about presenting my argument, it seemed just as reasonable a suggestion as any other. Grandfather's face had shifted imperceptibly, which was as big an admission of shock as I was going to get from the Old Lion. My mother seemed similarly surprised by my well-thought response, expecting me to stumble at the question, her shock only noticeable by the change in her breathing, given that I was standing facing away from her.

Grandfathers eyes narrowed slightly, before he gave a single sharp nod, "You may take Tyrion with you."

I allowed a wide smile to break out on my face. Even as a seasoned trader, staring down the barrel of market movements that would make most people start crying, I had never been as nervous as I had been just now. My risk paying off was a relief, and I let him know that, "Thank you, Lord-Grandfather! Thank you!"

A ghost of a smile threatened to show on his lips, "You may leave now."

I smiled and nodded, rushing out of the room to tell Tyrion the joyous news. On my way out, I caught sight of my mother gazing at me with curious eyes, clearly reappraising the worth of her second son. In hindsight, it was probably a little risky to come on so strong, and I had no doubt that her newfound interest in my life would likely prove to be something of a hindrance to my ambitions. It was also likely that the two of them were staying behind in grandfather's solar to discuss me, and that the scrutiny levelled upon me would only intensify from here on out.

Oh well. One problem at a time.

Tommen has both blundered and succeeded. How will his sudden entry into the Game of Thrones be received?
Feel free to comment and let me know what you think.
Hope you guys enjoy!