CHAPTER 1: BELLS AND JOURNEYS
On the streets of King's Landing, a young man walks as the bells loudly toll. The man has curls so dark they seem black in the dying sunlight calling for the day's end. His face is cleanshaven, and his eyes a pale grey. As he walks forward, his destination known only to him, the man stops and thinks about the newest revelation to the court of King Robert I Baratheon. 'Jon Arryn is dead' the man thinks 'Maybe they will make Lord Tywin hand'. The man stops that line of thought before chuckling a bit. 'No, his grace is never that smart, never has been'.
He begins to walk again as he continues to ponder who will be the next Hand of the King, and slowly nears his destination. As he approaches the man he seeks, he sees the end of a conversation between his old knight and his sister, the Queen. He waits, as had been his custom for years under the charge of Ser Jamie, for the knight of the Kingsguard to be done talking with his twin.
As he waits, he observes the silent sisters doing their work on the recently deceased hand of the King. 'Uncle will not be pleased to have missed this' he ponders, then it hits him all at once. 'The King has few people that he truly trusts, and one of them is on that slab-'He recoils a bit at the thought of who may be the next Hand of the King, when he notices Ser Jamie walking towards him.
"Ah, my noble squire, what brings you to a place as drab as this? Have you come to pray for the dearly departed Lord Hand?"
The man sighs, as he answers, "I haven't been your squire for years now, why must you refuse to call me Ser?"
Ser Jamie laughs, as he answers, "When you can knock me on my arse in the yard, you can be a Ser to me!"
The man merely closes his eyes, and snorts in amusement, "I've put everyone else there already, spare Ser Barristan and yourself, but that will never be enough for you will it?"
Before Ser Jamie can continue their usual banter he interrupts him, "What do you make of this?" he asks.
Ser Jamie merely ponders a moment, before loading a witty response through the air, "This old bag of bones has been on the way out for some time now, I was surprised he managed to last this long with the way he looked."
The man looks down upon the former hand as he responds, "He was healthier than most, a high lord with access to the same quality of healers and maesters as your lord father."
Ser Jamie wittingly replies, "He was older by nearly a decade than my father, and not able to bathe in gold to absorb its' power like my father can."
The man sighs and remarks, "Lord Tywin is right, you will never be serious in your life."
Ser Jamie laughs as he replies, "I must be truly unbearable if I got the great Tywin Lannister to admit the faults of his golden son so openly!"
The man sighs as he turns to lead them back to the Red Keep, "How about we talk more about this in the tiltyard, I could use a challenge. No one but you can truly push me these days."
Ser Jamie merely smirks as he remarks aloud, "I should hope not, I didn't spend all that time having you shine my boots for nothing!"
Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who he spoke with, the man was correct in his earlier assumption. While he was uneasy at the idea of its' Lord down in the snake pit of King's Landing, he would also get the chance to finally explore The Kingdom of the North. As he saddled his horse to prepare for the journey north, he spotted the royal family making their way to the wheelhouse. The great monstrosity that would take over a dozen horses to pull efficiently, and would most certainly break numerous times over the course of the trip under its' tremendous weight. 'Why can they not just add more wheels? Would that not offset that great weight?' As the man pondered this, he saw Ser Jamie prancing his way over to his horse. Unfortunately for him, so did his grace.
"Kingslayer!" the rotund King yelled from across the courtyard, "Will you be watching this cowardly bunch for me? You're the only one who can stand them!"
He saw as Ser Jamie's mask arose, as he turned to answer, "Yes your grace! I do so enjoy spending time with my sweet sister and her children!"
"Wonderful!" his grace replied "Try and keep them all in one piece will you? I don't need your father breathing down my neck because you let one of them be killed."
Ser Jamie's mask almost broke at the uncaring statement towards his family, though most men wouldn't see as it was merely a small twitch of his mouth, "Of course your grace, we wouldn't want you to lose your gold for your tourneys now would we? How would we live without them?"
King Robert I Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, merely growled out a laugh at the taunt and replied, "No, we can't have that." As he mounted, his grace started the slow, massive procession out of the gates of King's Landing and towards Winterfell, the seat of the lords of the north, the home of his fathe-
"Boy?" Ser Jamie says as he hits him on his shoulder, "Have you heard a thing I've just said?"
The man sighs, as he replies, "I haven't been a boy for years now, not since I killed my first man, not since you knighted me before the King."
Ser Jamie chuckles, as he runs a hand through his golden mane, "No, I suppose you're right, I've seen to it that you have truly done everything there is for you to become a man, and Tyrion has seen to the rest!"
The man huffs as he too smirks, remembering fonder and easier times, times before a seemingly useless journey to his fa-
"Eyes on the road," Ser Jamie teases, "I need you ready, in case any man thinks to try and steal the royal mule cart."
The man snorts as he thinks about that possibility, as if anyone could even get that thing to turn before they got skewered like a green boy at a tourney. "I was just thinking of the North."
"Ahh the north! The beautiful land of savages, where snarks and grumpkins roam the lands, and little men in swamps poison the tallest of lords! What a glorious land to call home, don't you think?"
"My family has lived there for thousands of years Jamie, they seem to be doing rather well for themselves, don't you think?" the man replies, knowing all too well what to expect in response by this point.
"Ha!" Ser Jamie predictably retorts, "The dullest group of sorry men and women I have ever had the misfortune of meeting! Ahh, I much prefer the prettier side of your family, I refuse the think that you got those pretty cheekbones all the serving girls talk about from those frozen cunts up north!"
He was right, the man mused, as he thought about what he saw in the mirror. He certainly had his mother's pretty face as his former master described it, but there was certainly a side to him that his mother's family, no matter how proud, could claim from him. His coloring was all of the north. That, and his stocky build, being half a head shorter than Ser Jamie and not looking to be catching up anytime soon. He kept his dark curls in a style not dissimilar to Ser Jamie's own, reaching the top third of his back between his shoulder blades. His facial hair was late coming, similar to his mother's family in that respect, as he could only grow a scrappy goatee and sideburns at nineteen, when his northern forefathers had beards seemingly out of the womb.
"You're one to talk Ser, all you Lannisters are so pretty! Why, your sister is the Queen of the realm, the Light of the West!" the man responds, jovially continuing the usual banter between the two.
"Ahh yes, my sweet sister, she's done her duty for the realm and then some by simply existing for all the men of court to stare at. She truly goes above and beyond the call of duty, why look at what beautiful children she's made for the throne, wouldn't you agree?" Jamie replies, rolling his eyes at the thought.
The two men descend into banter as they continue to ride north. Their bickering does come under notice of those in the royal wheelhouse, as both mother and daughter listen in on the two knights outside through the windows cut into the side. Cersei herself just suppresses a sigh at the topic of conversation, as she returns to listening in on what Tommen had been trying to tell her. The boy was rapidly gesturing as he tried to explain how he had met his most recent pet. She did notice how he quieted down as Joff looked at him during his explanation, a tinge of fear in his face that she ignores. 'A true lion, my boy is. The perfect Prince that is about to be forced to breed with a northern savage for Robert's wishes.'
As her mother trailed off in a mental rant towards her latest focus that wasn't them, Myrcella listened to her uncle and his former squire speak jovially. As her only entertainment on the journey north thus far, she found that even a topic as interesting as her mother was to her, she still enjoyed hearing their banter. Something she had long gotten used to enjoying, hearing it behind her when her Uncle Jamie would guard her and his former squire would tag along. She even got a small taste of it when they were just children, whenever Uncle Jamie and mother would go off and leave them together. The boy was good with Tommen then, better than even the wetnurse at times at quieting him down and entertaining him. With her, he was good for conversation. Always great for banter and hearing about the outside world in that special, unfiltered way someone like him could experience. He had no qualms talking to her as a friend, as Ser Jamie had encouraged their companionship and her mother had oddly not minded it one bit. 'Maybe Uncle Jamie convinced her' she thought. As she continued to think on what she thought was a far more interesting topic, the world around them continued with their journey north.
Tyrion Lannister thought he was a fair man. He had more than entertained people of all classes and walks of life, and he treated them the same way. If they had tits he flirted with them, and if they had a cock he didn't. Simple as that. Really. Well, he did enjoy a good bit of intellectual conversation every now and then, which was what he was searching for now. They had been on the road for a fortnight at this point, and even whores got boring if they didn't know how to speak correctly. He could search out his niece in the wheelhouse, but that would mean dealing with the crown prick and his sweet sister, something he didn't quite fancy doing as of this moment. Instead, he found himself seeking out Jamie's old squire. The lad always was good fun to debate with, he didn't have mind like his own mind you, but the lad certainly was no simpleton like most of the lickspittles that he could see following the royal pain in the arse that carried his family.
Following a line of sight from the wheelhouse, he saw him riding on the right side of it, next to Ser Arys Oakheart. From the looks of things, the two young men were simply riding in silence. Silence! Why, no good, intellectual men should be riding in silence! Even a seemingly enjoyable and companionable a one as theirs was! Why, he should rescue that poor lad from boredom! He knew the lad could see him approaching, always too perceptive for his own good, and made interrupt the mutual quiet that had been instilled on the area.
Tyrion yells, "Lads! What are you doing riding in such a dull manner! There is so much beauty in this country to talk about! Why, look at that! Harrenhal! You don't see that every day!"
The lad sighs as he looks apologetically at Ser Oakheart, then moving to meet Tyrion a bit further away from the royal eyesore. "I saw it my lord, I was merely taking in its' grace in silence, appreciating its' terrifying beauty."
"Ahh, but don't you want a closer look?" Tyrion replies, a knowing look in his eyes.
The lad seemed to ponder the idea he just put in his head, knowing him he had probably already thought of such a thing previously, "While I would love a close look, I am charged with guarding the royal family and their wheelhouse from enemies of the crown."
The dwarf replies, "Enemies of the crown, you say? Why, the last Whent surely is not fond of us, why not go to Harrenhal and check up on the place? Root out some trouble!"
The lad cracks a smile as he ponders this, nearly pushed over the edge now.
Wanting to give the extra shove, Tyrion snarks, "Why, am I not also a member of the royal family? My sweet sister is the Queen! And my lovely niece and nephew care for me deeply, they could never bear to see me harmed!"
Fully smiling at this point, the lad relents, and returns to Oakheart to say his farewells. Tyrion smirks as he ponders, 'A good lad that one, hopefully I can get him the best whore money can buy tonight. Well, the second best, the first is mine of course.'
The man awoke with a pounding head in an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar weight on his chest. Upon him is a woman. No, she's hardly a woman. Her hair is blond, somewhere between platinum and golden, and her frame small. She had curves, but they seem like that of a young maiden of sixteen rather than a woman grown. He looks about the inn he most certainly didn't pay for, and tries to remember the last evening and its' events. 'Tyrion, that bastard,' he thinks, 'If I find out I beget a bastard on this girl I swear-'
His thoughts get cut off as the door is kicked open. Tyrion saunters in, smiling like a cat with a freshly caught bird in its' mouth. The act waking the young woman on his chest and startling her so bad she nearly jumps from the bed. Why didn't he stop her? He doesn't care. Why doesn't he ca-
Tyrion cuts that line of thinking short, "Gooood morning lad! How are you feeling after that wonderful~ night? Was this darling here worth the money?"
Before he can answer, the girl responds, "Milord, he shouldn't have had to pay! I don't know what you western boys learn, but I wish you could spread that knowledge around! Most of these "men" who come to see me don't even know where to put it! But he more than knew what to do!"
As he looks upon the girl he may never see again, he responds, "I'm glad to be of service, though I must inquire, do you frequent moon tea?"
Looking put out at the statement, the girl almost solemnly, responds with, "Yes, our madam says its' for us to keep un workin."
He blinks at the common in her voice leaking through, then rises to begin his day, shooing Tyrion out of the room and tipping the girl on his way out of the door, thanking her for what was surely a wonderful night. He joins Tyrion for a cup of ale and a hearty stew for breakfast at the inn, and gossip about their experiences last night. With the night slowly coming back to him along with his senses, he thinks about the tragedy associated with Harrenhal. All of those houses, extinct. Who would ever want this cursed piece of-
"Lad!" Tyrion yells, trying to get his attention, "Finish up quick! We need to rejoin the party by midday or you shall face my brother's wrath!"
"It is not your brother's I fear," he responds, "but the Queen's."
To be fair, it would seem that the Queen took the most offence upon their return. Though, seeing as he had traipsed off with the person she may hate the most had certainly seemed to have something to do with it. Princess Myrcella simply laughed upon recognizing their hastened approach, and little Prince Tommen wanted to hear about the great castle and the town, asking if they had seen any interesting animals while we were there. The Queen merely sighed and re-boarded the wheelhouse with her sniveling brat of an heir, as they endeavored to answer the young Prince's questions.
"Well, there was this ghastly looking woman," Tyrion began, "Why, she must have lived in the castle back when Harren the Black himself roamed those halls!"
The man merely sighed and bantered back and forth with the Princess, one of the few people he could, as unlikely as it would be, call a friend.
"Did you have fun last night?" the Princess teased, "Not too much fun I hope!"
"Why Princess," the man responds, "Of course I did, there is never a dull moment when traveling with your uncle!"
The Princess giggled in response, and made to continue before her mother called for her remaining children to board the royal pain in the arse.
The Princess got in a parting shot while boarding, "Oh kind ser, please do a good job of guarding our fine royal wheelhouse will you? I would fear what would happen if someone were to try and steal away our beautiful chariot with us inside!"
The man snorted, and responded, "Of course your grace! One must never be too careful! Why, they could come and take it now right from under the caravan's nose!"
As the giggling Princess and young Prince boarded the wheelhouse, the young knight moved to is prior position to its' right. On this day, it would seem he was sharing the space with no one, not even Jamie coming to snark at him about being missing from his post. It gave him time to wonder as the continued on, what welcome would await him in his father's home?
In the 278th year after the landing of his grace, King Aegon I Targaryen, there was a grand tourney that attracted all the lords and ladies of the realm. Their sons and daughters danced together in a hall so grand that its' name even reflected it. With so many young nobles in one place, some hot-blooded encounters were to be had.
A young blond maiden mingled her way through the nobles in attendance, her green eyes sparkling while soaking up so much attention. She was the most beautiful one in the room, this she knew. As she wandered the hall, she noticed the Prince and his wife, dancing their way through the hall as if they only saw each other. She saw lords, old and young, groping the more curvaceous of serving wenches as they drunkenly gathered more ale and wine. 'More than one bastard will be born from this night' she thought, nearly sneering before stopping herself, she couldn't let such a thing openly harm her beauty in such a way.
A tall, dark haired man moved his way through the room, on the hunt for someone to warm his bed that night. He had had his fair share of ale before he saw her, that beautiful golden goddess. She was young yet glowingly beautiful. Even if she wasn't, the alcohol in his body more than made up the difference in his mind as he made his way over.
The young blond woman was deep in her cups by this point, and could hardly tell who she had and hadn't mingled with this night. When the man approached her and lead her outside the hall with his honeyed words and deep, northern drawl, she had no resistance. When he pinned her upon the wall of his chambers, she knew nothing but lust. When she awoke the next morning before he, she left without a sound.
AN:
This is my first crack at something like this, so any feedback would be appreciated (good or otherwise). I do know it is a bit jumbled, but I don't want to follow the traditional flow of the books with the single PoV each chapter.