Thanks everyone for the great response on the first chapter. Here's chapter 2, I hope you enjoy.

Who'd have thought that 'God's' clue to me about the gift would be a pun.

Who had ever heard the word crush and their first thought was of Mjolnir? Yes, it means the crusher in some old dead language, but come on, as far as clues go it wasn't exactly helpful.

It had the design of the MCU version of Mjolnir, just based on the handle and strap that I could see, but I needed to get closer to get a proper look, which wouldn't be easy for a two year old. Hopefully, it had the abilities of the MCU version, as that's the one that I know the most about in terms of abilities and powers. While I didn't have Thor's natural powers over lightning, hopefully I'd be able to use it like Cap. I wondered how long it would take the first person to make the correlation between me being the one to wield it, at least I better be the one to wield it, and it arriving on my birthday, or if anyone would figure it out before I was the person to lift it.

People had begun to gather around and look at Mjolnir in the courtyard, everyone seeming to have gotten over the shock of a few moments ago. I was sure that someone had already left to tell Tywin about it, who would decide when it was necessary to tell the King. Ser Willem Darry, the master of arms for the Red Keep, was the first man to walk towards the hammer, this was a moment I'd been anticipating for the last few minutes, watching people struggle with impossible tasks was always good fun. Don't judge me, everyone likes to laugh at others misfortune, as long as it doesn't damage them more than superficially.

Ser Willem grabber Mjolnir and proceeded to pull, only to fall over on his arse. I, along with many others in the courtyard laughed, only to try and stifle their laughter at the look the old knight gave them. Clearly, he hadn't taken too strong a grip and thought he would be able to lift it quite easily. He was mistaken.

I spent the next 30 minutes watching person after person try and fail to lift my hammer, as that's who it clearly belonged to now. While there were no cars to try and tow it away, one person had the idea to use horses, but just like all the previous tries, it failed.

The nursemaids and Ser Barristan, my assigned Kingsguard for the day, came in and I had to stop watching to get ready for my name day celebration. Reluctantly I left the window to let my nursemaids dress and prepare me, despite me being completely capable of doing this myself, but apparently that was below me, and I didn't yet have enough power to stop this happening each morning.

Ser Barristan smiled at my discomfort. Ser Barristan was definitely my favourite of the Kingsguard, both before I arrived in this world, and now that I'm here. While he was serious about his duty, I was still able to banter with him, well, as well as I could at my current age, and he indulged me despite me being about 40 years younger. Rather than having a full head of white hair, it was blonde, with only a few specks of grey mixed in, along with a clean-shaven face with pale blue eyes. Not the Barristan that I knew in terms of looks, but I guess being 20 years younger makes you look a bit different. I already planned to get him as my primary Kingsguard, much like Ser Arthur was to Rhaegar. Arthur still guarded the rest of the family as well, but Ser Gerold as Lord Commander put him to guard Rhaegar more than he guarded the rest of us.

"Happy name day Your Grace." Ser Barristan said, smiling as the maids pulled my black and red doublet over my head.

"I'd be a lot happier if I was allowed to prepare myself Barry." I grumbled back, but there wasn't much behind it, I was too excited after finding out about Mjolnir.

"I know you can say Barristan, My Prince, so why do you insist on such a juvenile nickname for me?" Ser Barristan said exasperatedly, knowing it was a losing battle that he still insisted on fighting.

"What do you mean Barry? It's only my second name day? I am a juvenile." I replied mischievously.

"Well then you should not have a problem being dressed Your Grace, as what two-year-old child is dressing themselves." He smirked victoriously.

"Damn, you've got me there Ser." We both chuckled.

The maids had finished dressing me and went to fetch my mum, leaving me and Barristan alone.

"Have you heard what happened?" I asked.

"I have only heard things in passing while I was guarding your door, but I knew that something had happened based on the shaking of the ground."

"Well come and look." I guided him over to the window. Down below people were still trying, and failing, to pick Mjolnir up with many of the previous people who'd failed watching with joy, seeing that they weren't alone in their failure.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the courtyard, as the source of the silence entered. Rhaegar walked over purposefully towards Mjolnir, looking as if it were obvious that he would be able to lift it.

"Are you alright Viserys?" Barristan asked concernedly. I realised that I was worried that Rhaegar may in fact be able to lift it and probably looked it. Obviously, I couldn't say that I hoped Rhaegar couldn't lift it, maybe if I hadn't shown myself to be so intelligent then I could get away with it, but as I'd presented myself now I couldn't get away with that.

"I just don't want him to look stupid if he fails." I went with instead, which was also true, but not my primary concern, hoping I was convincing.

Barristan seemed to buy it though. "Don't worry Your Grace, I don't think it's possible for your brother to make a fool of himself no matter if he fails."

We both turned back to what was happening in the courtyard. Rhaegar was now standing over Mjolnir. He reached down with one hand and firmly gripped it. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as he began to try and lift it, before all of a sudden, he gave up. I released the breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding in relief. Rhaegar looked like he muttered something to himself before shaking his head and walking away, leaving everyone in the courtyard bemused.

"What are you two looking at?" Turning around I saw my mum standing in the doorway staring at the two of us at the window.

"Just watching the entertainment in the courtyard Your Grace." Barry replied.

"And what entertainment would that be?"

"There's a hammer that people are trying to lift." I answered.

"What's so exciting about that?" Rhaella asked bemusedly.

"Come and look." I waved her over. She walked over quickly and took the place that Barry dutifully vacated. Down below people seemed to have recovered from the shock of my brother's performance and had continued in their futile attempts to lift Mjolnir.

"While I am sure that this is very exciting Viserys, we do have to break our fast." She said as she turned away, picking me up on the way. I felt the tiny niggle to ask for five more minutes, but I fought it off and instead acquiesced to my mother's demands.

"Fine, but only if you let me walk." I replied. She looked to think on it for a second as Barristan watched on in amusement.

"Only if you promise not to run off."

"Pinky promise." She still looked at in confusion like she had the first time I'd made Rhaegar do it, but she did it anyway knowing that I never went back on a pinky promise, they were sacred. With that done we left my room and went on our way to breakfast.

I wonder when I'll get my chance to pick Mjolnir up.

The day passed as I'd expected for the most part. Had a really uncomfortable breakfast with my family, completely due to Aerys ranting and raving, which was even worse than usual. In part due to gifts being sent for me that he was sure were cursed, so had them burned, not like I wanted any presents anyway, and due to the arrival of Mjolnir.

Apparently when it had landed and caused the earthquake, he was sure it was an assassination attempt on him, when he'd found out the truth he'd tried to lift it at some point as well, must have been just after my mother and I had left. His inability to lift it didn't help his mood at all.

After breakfast, or breaking our fast as the idiots here say, Rhaegar, Rhaella and I, along with Ser Barristan and Arthur, went to the gardens, as we had the previous year. That had been fun with Rhaegar playing his harp, along with some songs that I'd tried to teach them, the only one that had come out as I'd hoped was Yellow, but I still considered that a success. He'd tried to teach me to play a bit, but my small arms and hands couldn't do much with it. However, like all good things it had to come to an end. Jon Connington came and told Rhaegar that the King was requesting his presence. I didn't like the Lord of Griffin's Roost, and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual. I didn't like him because he was a prick who acted like he was better than everyone, despite having done nothing that warranted such an attitude, and he didn't like me I think because I took too much of his precious silver prince's time. I mean who doesn't like a small child simply because their older brother wants to spend time with them, as I said before, prick. Rhaegar and the prick left, and my mother took me away to prepare me for the feast in my honour this evening.

If you think that being dressed by someone else is embarrassing and annoying, then being bathed by someone else is ten times worse, but it had happened so many times by this point that I'd managed to zone out while it happened.

Once that torture had finished, I was dressed, which seemed like a blessing at this point, and ready and waiting to be called down for the feast. In the meantime, I decided to go to my window overlooking the courtyard again. All day, while I'd been walking to breakfast and the gardens, I'd been hearing everyone talking about the mysterious hammer in the courtyard that no one could lift. I'd already heard some servants saying that it was a gift from the Warrior and Smith for someone, which I filed away as something that I could definitely use to my advantage. There was no one in the courtyard at the moment, probably for the first time all day, as people were preparing for the feast.

This could be my chance; except I can't survive the fall without any injuries.

As I tried to think of a way to get down to the courtyard unnoticed, I saw someone else enter, and not just anyone, but the most powerful man in Westeros, Tywin Lannister. I hadn't had many interactions with Tywin so far, I think it's because Aerys doesn't want him near me because he thinks he will either try to kill me or turn me against him. I also think that Tywin doesn't really want to interact with me anyway. He was very stuck in his beliefs, so no matter the tales of my intelligence for my age, he probably still believed I was just as stupid and boring as any other two-year-old.

Tywin was making a beeline for Mjolnir. He didn't look around to see if anyone else was around to watch his attempt. As he would say "the lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep," even if all Tywin actually cared about was the opinions of the so-called sheep, seeing as all a wanted was a legacy. However, his incredible self-confidence was something to marvel, pun not intended, at, one of the very few things I admired about the monster in human skin that was Tywin Lannister.

I wasn't worried about Tywin being able to lift Mjolnir, if Rhaegar was unable to lift it then there was a less than zero percent chance of Tywin being able to lift it, but I was curious to see what his reaction to his inability to lift it was, seeing as how he saw himself as better than everyone. It would be even better when he saw that a two-year-old could do something that he wasn't able to.

Tywin, much like my brother had earlier, only put one hand on the handle, lightly, as if he expected it to simply jump into his hand. When it did not lift easily, unlike Rhaegar, he tightened his grip and began to pull harder. His face remained stoic, but creases of annoyance formed on his forehead as he failed to even move Mjolnir even an inch. When he stopped, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, almost as if he satisfied that it was simply an impossible task, and no one would be able to lift it.

I was now looking forward to it even more when I wipe that smug grin that doesn't exist off his stupid stoic face.

"Your Grace, it is time for the feast." Ser Barristan called from the other side of the door.

Feasts suck. Maybe if I were old enough to drink again or had some friends with me it wouldn't be so bad. As it was though, all I could do was eat, which I didn't have a problem with, and listen to conversations happening around me, as no one other than Rhaegar and Ser Barristan, who was sitting on the other side of the King to me and guarding the doors respectively, ever talked to me like I wasn't a toddler. Even my mother insisted on talking to me like a baby for the most part.

So, eat and listen to conversations was what I did. There wasn't much to hear, mainly due to being next to my father, meant that any talk I could hear was nothing interesting, as no one was willing to say anything risky so close to the Mad King, even if that moniker was not quite in mainstream circulation yet.

After a couple of hours and eight courses, the food was finished, and servants began to move some of the tables to make room for dancing. Seeing it was a celebration I took the first dance, dragging my mother to the dance floor. I enjoyed dancing, but not the kind that I had to do as a noble in Westeros, but there was not really the form of dancing I was more familiar with in my old world. The first time I dabbed ironically over something, which I'm sure looked hilarious with my current body, my mother thought that I was having a seizure or something. So, while I wasn't a fan of the dancing I was about to do, I was happy to do it as I saw how happy it made my mum, and she had so little joy in her life being married to Aerys that it was the least I could do for her.

It must have looked both awkward and adorable I'm sure. My mother wasn't particularly tall, only barely pushing over five feet, I'm only two so the positioning was pretty difficult. Once I'd finished dancing with my mum, I went back to my seat, knowing that if any of the other ladies here tried to dance with me, Aerys would throw a fit, thinking they were trying to kill me.

Rhaegar had vacated his seat beside the King to go and talk with Jon Connington, Arthur, and his squire Myles Mooton. That seat was soon filled by a huge man, larger than almost any in the hall, both in terms of physical size and personality. I'd encountered Lord Steffon Baratheon several times since he'd come to court at Aerys behest following the Definace, while his son Robert, who was currently singing along to The Bear and the Maiden Fair with several other quite drunk stormlanders, had arrived several days ago en route to Storm's End from the Eyrie. My interaction with Steffon had been short but he'd always been kind to me, especially when I called him cousin, there were some perks to being a child, it definitely made it easier to make people like you. I knew the overall reason for his being here, but I wanted to hear the exact details of this conversation.

"Your Grace." He said bowing to Aerys, "My Prince." He continued, turning to me. I simply nodded in return, wanting to instead listen to what this conversation would contain.

"Steffon!" Aerys said happily. "I've missed you cousin, there are far too many traitors here and not enough loyal men, but that may soon change." He looked around skittishly, before locking his narrowed eyes onto Tywin several places down the table who was talking to Lord Symond Staunton, the Master of Laws. I could see Steffon was uncomfortable with this interaction, he'd been at court for close to seven moons and Aerys still greeted him almost the exact same way every time.

"I'm sure that there are many loyal men Your Grace."

"You don't know them like I do Steffon. I hear their whispers and plots; it's why I need a strong and loyal man by my side."

"You have Tywin Your Grace."

"Pah." Aerys spat, "Tywin is but a servant, jealous and wishing he had my power, he is the worst of them all Steffon, do not trust him."

"Of course."

"I need you to do a very important task for me Steffon, something I can trust to no one else."

"What is it Your Grace?" Steffon asked curiously.

"Rhaegar needs a suitable bride of true Valyrian descent. I need you to go to Essos and find one. I promise that you will be suitably rewarded for doing such a task."

"Your Grace, I am not sure I can, my wife and I have just had a son and I need to teach Robert more about our lands and how to rule them." Steffon strongly replied.

I was surprised by Aerys response, as I expected him to start screaming and calling Steffon a traitor, but it seemed he was having one of his more lucid moments. "Do not worry Steffon, if you are unable to find someone within six moons, then you may return and I will send someone else, I only ask this of you as you are family and the person that I trust most."

I was impressed, that was some pretty good manipulation from a madman, and I could see Steffon considering it. I hoped he would refuse, knowing if Steffon was still Lord of the Stormlands come the Rebellion then there was no chance of any of my family not fighting being hurt, but I knew he would not, and there was nothing I could do to prevent this.

"I will give you my answer on the morrow Your Grace." Steffon finally replied.

"Thank you Steffon, you are a true friend." I didn't need to be a genius to know he was telling Steffon that someone wasn't really his friend, and their name rhymed with Sywin.

Speak of the devil, it was at that moment that one of the worst things that could have possibly happened at the feast happened. The musicians began to play the one song that everyone knows not to play in Aerys' presence, but I guess they didn't get the memo. As the Rains of Castamere played everyone stopped dancing, people stopped drinking and almost every eye turned towards the King, waiting for his reaction.

For the second time at the feast I was surprised by Aerys reaction. He called Ser Gerold Hightower over and whispered something in his ear. I didn't see what happened next as my mother swiftly came over and told me it was time to go to bed. I didn't refuse, the atmosphere still too tense to do anything other than follow my mother, with Ser Barristan following dutifully behind.

Even if he hadn't exploded as many expected him too, I knew that the musicians were in serious trouble, and while he was unlikely to burn them, that wasn't the only way to punish them.

Once we arrived back in my room, Rhaella began to prepare me for bed, before getting into bed with me. I didn't complain, knowing that this was as much for my comfort, as it was for her.

Waking up, I wondered for a second what the extra weight behind me was, before remembering that my mother had fallen asleep in my bed last night. This could be bad, if Aerys found out that Rhaella had spent the whole night alone with me then she'd be punished. I couldn't let that happen. Only Ser Barristan knew at the moment, and unless directly asked by the King he wouldn't tell, but I didn't know who was currently guarding the door, as Barristan would've had to go to bed at some point and been relieved.

It seemed luck was on my side as someone passed the door and asked, "Ser Oswell is the Prince awake yet?"

"I do not believe so, come back in 30 minutes, he needs a bit more sleep after yesterday." That's a reason I liked Oswell, he understood the importance of sleep. It was also good luck he was guarding the door and not Ser Gerold or Darry, as they would have the King of Rhaella's presence instantly, as well as not allowing me to leave and cause a distraction, but luckily Oswell was usually willing to indulge me.

I walked back over to the bed and gently shook my mum awake. As she stirred, I quickly whispered, "Shh, you have to be quite mum or father might realise you're alone with me."

She nodded with bleary eyes, but quickly focused upon realising the seriousness of the situation. I realised it may have looked and sounded very silly, a two-year-old giving orders to my mother, but that didn't matter right now.

"I have a plan, Oswell's at the door, I'm going to distract him, and once we're out of the way you leave." I told her. She nodded in response.

I moved towards the door, before realising I was in my nightclothes still, well seeing as almost everyone treats me like a toddler, I might as well act like one, so I decided to go anyway, having to really stretch to reach the handle to open the door. "Ser Ozzy, I want to go to the courtyard."

Oswell looked down at me amusedly. "Why's that My Prince?"

"Because I saw there's a cool hammer there and everyone else got a turn to grab it, so why shouldn't I?"

"You make a good point Your Grace, but are you sure that even if you somehow lift it, it won't crush you? You are rather small you know." He replied, not even having an idea about the pun he'd just made.

"That's why I need you to come with me, to protect me. Anyway, it's mine anyway, it's clearly a name day present for me."

"Of course, Prince Viserys." He said laughingly, "Lead the way."

Happy that my plan was going well, I'd done my part, I just hoped my mother could leave unnoticed. I quickly, well as fast as my small legs could, began making my way through the corridors down to the courtyard, with Ser Oswell's long strides easily keeping pace with me, to my chagrin.

We quickly reached the courtyard. It wasn't as busy as it had been yesterday, but there were still several people around, going about their business. While I'd originally planned to make a big spectacle of what was to come next, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Now that Mjolnir was before me, I could almost feel it drawing me to it, calling to me. I slowly made my way towards it, barely able to stop myself from running as fast as I could towards it. I could vaguely sense all the eyes in the courtyard on me, but I had tunnel vision for the hammer ahead of me.

There was no doubt in this moment, no thought of failure. I knew I would lift it and I knew it would welcome me. Not trying to sound too arrogant, but when history was written about me, this is where it would begin.

Standing next to Mjolnir, I didn't even have to reach down far to grab it. It must have looked ridiculous next to me, but I didn't care.

I took hold of the handle and lifted. It felt as light as a feather as I raised it, and it made it seem ridiculous that no one else was able to lift it. I ignored the gasps of shock around the courtyard as I simply marvelled, pun intended, at the feeling of rightness I got from holding Mjolnir. There was no sudden burst of power, just a feeling of comfort.

Turning around I looked at all the shocked faces surrounding the courtyard. Ser Oswell's jaw looked like it would fall off if it were any lower. However, there was one person not shocked, instead they were smiling, looking directly at me with a proud look on their face from below an archway was my brother, like he already knew I was somehow destined to lift it.

There was really only one way to mark the occasion.

"Does this mean I'm the strongest person in the castle?"