Charles woke up the following day in his comfortable featherbed. He yawned happily and Stretched his limbs across the soft sheets, fully appreciating the luxury. Afterall, he had just spent a month at sea. A trail of light shined through the window, hitting the wall. It almost looked divine as dust floated in the illuminated source.
This was his first morning in Westeros. He laid peacefully on the bed for a while, contemplating this incredible development. Charles recounted his whole trip mentally. The latest night seemed like an almost blur after the discussion with Tywin. He organized his thoughts recalling the events.
Charles sat up and remembered how stale the dinner with Kevan and his grandfather had been. The highlight of the event being Tywin's announcement that Charles was to resume his education with the maester.
Perhaps he could go to the maester's tower directly after breaking his fast, which Charles now knew was the tallest tower in the courtyard. The young Svea felt a jolt of energy and started dressing. He pulled the white undershirt over his hairless chest. Shoved his arms into the sleeves of the yellow tunic and quickly closed it. Then he grabbed his blue coat and yanked it in place. Since it was a chilly walk to the dining hall, Charles decided to tuck in the golden buttons into the holes. His fingers were working quickly against the surface of the decorating golden crowns. Soon enough the boots were on, and he finally wound the black scarf around his neck.
He had opened the door when he suddenly remembered his family sword. Charles turned and grabbed the scabbard which leaned against a corner. With resolve, he attached the amber belt to his waist. He would not make a habit of leaving it behind.
Caressing the golden handle, Charles recalled his encounter with Kevan's sons the night prior. Martyn and Wilhelm had rushed towards him and burst with questions. They had begged him to show them the valyrian steel sword.
"Is that Blackfyre?" Wilhelm had asked in aw upon seeing the blade.
Charles chuckled at the memory and unsheathed the weapon.
He studied the sword, feeling the steel with his finger. Blackfyre was the ancestral sword of the Targaryens. It was stolen by the Targaryen bastards who adopted the sword's name as their last name.
Now Blackfyre was lost. Martyn had commented this to his brother's exclamation.
Charles' had explained to the boys that his sword had been a gift from King Aerys I after Johan IV, had led an effective campaign in the third Blackfyre rebellion. Johan even personally dueled and captured Aegor Rivers during battle. Who he then brought before the king.
Charles balanced the elegant steel on his finger. It was too thin to be Blackfyre and sported the wrong color scheme. The sword's real name reflected its majestic look.
"Vasa" he breathed out. Then after swinging it a few times, he sheathed it at his side.
The sun shined warmly when Charles exit the building. An aura of calmness was set upon the courtyard. The pond glittered, and there was no commotion of voices like in Braavos. The inviting view made the young Svea feel as if he was in a dream.
Charles estimated it to be around eight in the morning. It was still damp from the night and as he had expected it was chilly. His warm breath, visible in the air.
Before entering the dining hall, Charles spotted Damion conversating with two workers in the yard. He walked over and greeted the castellan. After some small talk, he asked Damion:
"How long have you been at the post?
"A few years." The Steward nodded seriously. But then he added more amused.
"To be honest, I don't remember how many. Four or five perhaps. You know after a certain time at the post the years just float together. I'm losing count of time. My ventures outside the rock are very scarce. Perhaps a trip to Lannisport sometimes. But it makes life very monotone, which makes time uncountable."
"Maybe you should be allowed a break." Charles said while tilting his head. He wondered if such life sentence of a position would ever suit him.
"No need, I'm committed to my work. Now If you excuse me."
Damion made his departure towards the stairs, and Charles followed his stomach to the dining hall.
At the entrance stood a servant who called out "Breakfast by lord?"
Charles thanked him before settling at the high table. All seats in the hall were desolate of people.
"Has Lord Tywin already eaten?" He asked when the servant returned with a plate of freshly cooked food.
"He eats in his own chambers m'lord."
Charles looked across the empty hall disheartened.
"Then, who usually do eat here?" His tone was bitter.
"Depends, m'lord. I think more will join you soon."
The servant bowed and went back into the kitchen. Charles picked up a fruit from the tray closest to him and started to eat in his solitude. His positive spirit a bit dwindled since before. Charles was halfway done with his potatoes when an upbeat voice cried out "You woke early I see."
The young Svea looked up from his plate and saw the dashing Brax member taking a seat at one of the lower tables.
"Indeed" Charles responded happily. He was about to ask Choren to join him at the high table when he realized, that probably would be improper.
"I will join you!" He instead said and grabbed his plate.
He finished his meal in the sworn sword's company.
"Perhaps we can walk a few stairs down so you can see more of the castle." Choren suggested before taking a bite of his chicken.
"That sounds most intriguing" The young Svea concurred. Charles then stood up and put a hand on the sword hilt.
"Please lead the way."
Choren looked at his plate then to Charles'.
The knight Chuckled "Already finished?"
Charles returned the laugh as he saw that Choren was only half-through his portion and retook a seat.
After they were done, Choren gave his companion a tour of more dining halls, some food storages and a vault of gold that was guarded by four men. The young knight also showed Kevan's quarters and his own room, which was larger than Charles'.
They then ventured to the elevator platform, which Charles found most intriguing of the sights. The young Svea inquired to the workers about the construction. He learned that the system was updated every year, with new chains and ropes. The renewal procedure usually took two weeks.
Charles wondered if it was the fastest way to travel in The Rock. Choren explained that due to the load on and load of procedure between the four different elevators, it took as long as traveling the normal way. But it needed less manpower and was therefore incredibly cost-effective.
After the two hour tour, the two men were back in the courtyard.
"Any new news from the realm?" Charles asked as they came to a stop by the pool.
"No, it has actually been quite dead lately. The crop yield has been satisfying though, and its soon harvest season. Two thousand of our men will be sent from The Rock, to help some of the nearby farmers and collect harvest for the castle. So, soon Casterly Rock will be flooded with fresh grain. We need to have a large store when winter comes."
Choren looked at Charles solemnly.
"You know it has been a long summer. Ten years."
"Is that a record?"
The young knight shrugged. "At least in living memory. Which means…"
But Charles finished his sentence knowingly "A long winter."
With a distanced voice Choren responded, "So at least maester Creylen say." he then continued with more resolve "Still winter will come eventually, or as the starks say..."
"Winter Is Coming."
The young Svea had certainly heard that enough times.
Choren scratched his beardless chin."Well, I have always thought about those house words." He paused and tilted his head so he could establish eye contact.
"It is almost pathetic don't you think? I mean they can never be wrong. Obviously, winter always comes back."
Charles raised an eyebrow. Not entirely amused that his family was being criticised.
"So you think there is no meaning in having mottos which are common knowledge?"
Choren made a half nod.
"It is a valuable reminder never to forget to prepare for the harsher times. It is easy to grow oblivious during lavish summers, and meet an unfortunate end during winter."
Charles' speech came out a bit more aggressive than he had intended. So he softened his tone.
"Besides it is grimmer in the north and harsher during winters. So.."
"Good morning. Did you enjoy the book last night?"
It was Maeter Creylen who had walked up beside them. The book he referred to was "Sieges and Assaults" by Harrold Talhoffer. Creylen had given it to Charles the night prior when the young Svea had asked for something stimulating to read. According to the Maester, this had been one of Tywin's favorite books in his youth. So Charles regarded it as a mandatory read.
"I skimmed the first pages, seems very interesting."
"Well, it will probably take you a few weeks to finish it. It's heavy reading. One has to put a lot of mind and thinking into such books."
"I certainly plan on doing just that."
Charles wanted to absorb all information of warfare so he one day could rival the strategic mind of Gustavus Adolphus.
"Yes, well I think that the…." The Maester began to say but was interrupted by a guard.
"Excuse me, but Lord Tywin wishes to speak to you." The guard looked directly at Charles, and the young Svea's stomach made a loop.
Charles walked back to the study. Upon seeing Tywin he realized that he wasn't as nervous as last time.
"Grandfather" He called out with a small bow of his head.
Tywin answered shortly "Charles."
The Lord of Casterly rock was surprisingly not occupied with any other matter. Instead, he had full attention upon his grandson.
Tywin observed Charles expectingly as he spoke. "I have arranged for your education to start today."
Delighted by the news the young Svea's lips curved into a smirk "Thank you." This would be his first chance to prove himself capable.
"You will report to the maester in thirty minutes. He will go through the important lessons you will learn."
The commanding voice of his grandfather made Charles subconsciously straighten his back.
"I will also have the master at arms train with you this afternoon to see your skills."
Charles looked at his grandfather intently.
"I will utilize this opportunity to learn as much as possible."
Tywin made a small nod of approval. Then he spoke in a dismissive tone "Have you ever butchered a chicken or cow before?"
"No, I have not." He answered shortly. Charles could not understand how that was of importance.
"You're a man now. you need to learn that as well."
Charles shrugged, as in answering why not.
"I will have such arrangments made. That will be all." His grandfather's voice was final, and the young Svea rose from his seat.
Charles was about to leave when he suddenly felt very bold.
"About the rest of our family. I have not seen Tyrion around The Rock."
Tywin who had picked up his quill and dipped it in ink looked up annoyed.
"He is in King's Landing." He said drily as he shifted back his attention to the quill.
The scratching of the paper stung in Charles' ears. The sense of comfort was starting to leave him.
"I would like to go there. Sometime"
Tywin scoffed and continued his writing "I'm sure you would. That will be all."
The young Svea was quick on his feet to leave. He had wished to ask about his father. But Tywin's dismissal left no room for further discussion.
As he breathed fresh air outside the Maester approached with steady steps.
"Just the person I was looking for. Lord Tywin wishes me to go through the daily programs with you. So follow me to my quarters."
Charles accompanied the Maester and finally entered the great tower. Once they were inside the packed office Creylen gestures his student to take a seat.
"So, there are a few areas Lord Tywin wants you to practice on. We will exercise history and writing and talk about the geography of Westeros. Ser Benedict Broom will handle the physical aspects of your tutoring."
The young Svea remembered the bald master at arms who had welcomed him in the courtyard.
The Maester continued "You will also practice horse riding. Especially for long distances. I have a trip planned for you in a few days time. So you can learn to command a horse properly in more than just a city environment."
"In battle, one must be able to steer a horse as well," Charles added with enthusiasm.
Creylen furrowed his brow "Yes. But hopefully, you will not see any battles for most of your life."
Charles did not entirely agree. What kind of Svea would he be if he was not proven in battle? Although wishing for war could have him end up a disgrace like Sigismund the reckless.
Maester Creylan eyed him seriously "Hopefully the king's peace shall be kept." When his student made a curt nod, he resumed to the business at hand.
"Now we shall begin with testing your reading and writing skills. I need to see where your grammar and writing abilities are to know how to proceed."
The maester's stool creaked as he stood up "So I would like you to write a summary of one of the chapters in the book I gave you." Creylen collected a few blank papers from a shelf and handed them to Charles.
"A few pages long." He retook his seat with a sigh "Since you have lived in Braavos, I can't know if you have been trained properly. Perhaps you have. We will find out." The elderly man smiled as he added the last sentence. Charles determined look seemed to amuse the Maester.
"Could I write it here?"
Creylen waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, sure. I want it handed in tomorrow. The assignment will take its time. Since you have training, I don't expect that you finish today."
"Then you will have it tomorrow." Charles stated simply and immediately went to collect 'Sieges and Assaults' from his room.
As soon as he had all material prepared Charles started his work. He was very enthusiastic and yearned to know more. Not only to improve his abilities but also to show himself capable. Charles started with simply reading the first chapter. Then he re-read it while taking notes. The next step was to write a summary based on his notes. He reached with his hand and grabbed a new paper to get started.
"Shall we go and eat? I'm quite hungry."
Charles who was mesmerized by his work looked up confused. Then he saw maester Creylan descending from another set of stairs. His stomach released an unsatisfied growl in the realization.
"Good Idea" Charles responded while putting away his quill. He stood up and stretched.
"But you are the wisest here after all."
"Well, I would hope so. A testament to all the chains around my neck."
They descended the tower together. Charles glanced at the swaying necklace as they walked down the steps.
"Which chains do you have?
"Most of them. It's hard to get all without spending almost your entire life at the citadel."
Charles supposed it was unnecessary to acquire every chain. But one branch had always peaked his interest.
"Have you studied the higher mysteries?"
"Only about one maester in a hundred has the valyrian chain, and I'm not one of them. It does not interest me, to be honest. Seems a waste of time to study unnatural things when there are so many tangible subjects."
Charles observed the tranquil pond as they went passed the courtyard.
"You say 'unnatural things,' but there must be something authentic to study, which merits the existence of the subject. Such as valyrian steel, wildfire…"
Creylen cut in "Yes yes. Dragons, magic, the others and The children of the forest. All of that sort. But I would certainly not call it authentic." after a short pause he added, "Theoretical at best."
The maesters cynicism started to puzzle Charles. Wasn't there a lot of evidence for the existence of magic?
"But isn't magic still practiced in Ashai?"
"Well, those are only stories. Nothing to believe."
"So no maester has ever traveled there?" Charles asked very skeptically.
"Well, some have, but I have not spoken to any of them" the maester's face turned disgusted "Some go mad traveling there and come back with stories of magic and other outlandish nonsense. Some never return."
Charles raised his eyebrows listening to the elder man's scoffs. How convenient for Creylen to dub all witnesses of magic, madmen. He wondered if the only ones that did return from Ashai were these supposed 'madmen.' Charles was going to voice his thoughts when Ceylan presumed his rant.
"I can tell you this. We know for a fact that there is no magic in this world. But myths and legends can easily be created."
Charles was so invested in the conversation that he had not noticed that they had reached the dining hall. They took the closest seats to the entrance as Creylen continued.
"Let's talk about 'the others' as an example. Is it true that they ever existed? Or is it just a story that has been escalated for 8000 years?"
"All myths are based on some truth." Charles added sensibly.
"Yes, but I personally believe that the Others were not really an unnatural force. But an invading force from perhaps Essos."
Charles thought about the maester's suggestion for a moment. Then he countered "But If that was the case. How could we explain the existence of the wall?"
"Yes, well I can't explain everything but…"
Recognizing his victory in the argument, Charles persisted.
"How could men build such a thing on their own?"
Creylen looked at his student with preponderance and answered. "It was probably built over thousands of years, not over a short period."
Charles still wasn't convinced. If such a feat was possible without magic and it took thousands of years. Why would the first men even have built it? There must have been a significant threat to warrant its construction. If it were built solely for the wildlings, if anyone at that time could be categorized as a wildling, the extensive time it took to manufacture the wall would nullify its effect against a pressing threat. Talk about investing for the future. Charles almost scoffed and was about to voice his opinion when he again was interrupted by Creylen.
"Most magic is based on legends with no real truth behind it."
Now, this was starting to get agitating. Charles turned in his chair and decided to drop the matter of 'the wall' and cut to the chase.
"Well, what about dragons surely you believe they existed?"
"It is highly probable" Creylen sounded almost reluctant.
"Since there are actual skulls left." Charles said while gesturing with his hands to emphasize his point.
The maester nodded and started eating. Charles followed his tutor's example. After a few bites, Creylen spoke with his general tone again.
"It is hard to argue against the existence of Dragons. Some try, but they are foolish. You only need to travel to Kings Landing to see the skulls, and read all the stories through hundreds of years."
Charles relaxed feeling content in the maester's capitulation. Creylen spotted his student's smirk and called out amused. "Yes, they existed, but were dragons really magical? They were probably just an animal, like a horse."
Charles supposed that could be true and ate a few moments in silence. Then he perked with a cocky grin.
"But an animal need to have very special biology to breathe fire."
Creylen chuckled and admitted, "Well it would be quite the sight to see a horse breathing fire."
The sound of something metal touching stone caught the young Sveas attention. Only a few meters away Ser benedict broom stood leaning against the stone opening with his gauntlet-clad arm. Charles understood it was time for swords to do the talking. He looked to Creylen who nodded at him encouragingly. With his stomach satisfied Charles followed the master at arms out to the courtyard.
He saw Wilhelm and Martyn sparring together. Beside them were two other people facing each other, who Charles' did not recognize. Probably guards or other staff members.
"Here is a sparring sword." Benedict called out and handed the blunted weapon to Charles. The young Svea grabbed it with his left hand and removed his amber scabbard with his right. There was no advantage in having his family heirloom weigh him down.
Then Charles figured that a training session did get sweaty. He sighed at his unnecessary one-handed procedure and put the training sword on the ground to use both hands to remove his Svea coat.
"So just the basics now. Martyn, come here."
The Lannister boy came running towards the master at arms. When both Charles and Martyn stood in ready positions, Benedict called out "Begin!"
Charles immediately went on the offensive. He cleaved downward, and when the boy blocked, Charles instantly followed up with swinging at his opponent's different sides. They clashed a few times, then Martyn went for a thrust which Charles maneuvered around and used its momentum to throw his opponent to the ground in a parry. Not being dismayed Martyn rose and the duel continued.
Charles noticed that the Lannister boy fought with a simple combat style, so Charles utilized the water dance to dodge blows and then parry or slash. He also had the obvious advantage of age and height. So the match wasn't fair. But it wasn't in Charles nature to back down.
"Okay." The master at arms called out after a panting Martyn once again found himself on the ground. Benedict looked at the other boy.
"Willhelm your turn."
With his next opponent, Charles increased his speed. He wanted to beat Wilhelm quickly to save his strength for a more worthy opponent. Soon enough the boy was knocked into the dirt.
Benedict walked up to the victor and crossed his arms.
"Well, where have you learned all those skills?"
Why was everyone so surprised of his abilities?
"I have undergone a martial education from many cultures." Charles answered with a proud smirk. In the corner of his eye, he could see Damion, Choren and maester Creylen join the spectators. His grandfather could not be seen. Not that it surprised him
Benedict drew his sword "Let's try you and me."
When they both had their guard up sterlan commanded. "Now I want you to block my attacks."
Charles nodded and prepared himself. Benedict then commenced his assault. Charles quickly realized how perfected his opponent's strikes were and how lacking his defense was compared. Several strikes hit the young Svea without him being able to deflect them. Charles was gradually pushed backward, but to his delight managed to find footing and fend off the last attacks.
Sweating and panting Charles listened to the master at arms.
"Still, pretty good I must say. You have a lot of potential. Now you shall attack me."
Charles nodded and grasped his sword determined to do better. He started swinging towards the Benedict who fended him off with skillful ease. But Charles heightened his momentum giving it all. He fully committed to the water dancing and to his great triumph managed to get a hit on Benedict. It would have been a flesh wound in a battle most probably, but still.
"Impressive. You have a solid offense, but your defense is still not valid for a battle. Now groups of two!"
They practice for two more hours, and Charles was drenched in sweat by the end of it. Perhaps he should have shed his yellow tunic as well, Charles thought.
"That is all for today. Wash up boys."
A worker collected all the sparring swords, and Charles picked up his coat and sheath ready to return to his room. He was about to leave when a servant girl intercepted him.
"M'lord a bath has been prepared in your room."
"Oh, thank you."
The girl curtsied and left towards the kitchen. When Charles entered his chamber, there was indeed a tub filled with hot water to his delight. On the bed laid two neatly foiled towels and a vat of various soaps. His indulgence seemed to have been heightened moving here. Not that he complained. After riding himself of his soaked clothes, Charles slowly lowered himself into the tub. He just sat there in harmony, slipping his body lower and lower as the water cooled. When the comfortable heat started to vanish, Charles hurried in utilizing the soaps to clean himself.
The air bit cold onto his partially wet hair as a newly clothed Charles rushed towards the Maester's tower. He was determined, to finish ahead of time. Charles began with reviewing the notes he had previously written. Then he utilized them to write a summary of 'Chapter 1: Trebuchets'. When he was satisfied, Charles correct read it and rewrote the summary with alterations on a different paper. As he overviewed his first paragraph, the young Svea felt a swell of pride. Charles had finished ahead of schedule, and he was satisfied with the result.
'A Trebuchet is a type of catapult used in siege warfare. One may hurl large stones or other missiles to extermenate cities and forts. The deadly artillery piece operates with a sling arm loaded with a massive boulder. After generations of varying design, there are effectively two types practical for battle. The first is a Traction Trebuchet, which should be furnished with fifty to a hundred ropes. Two men pull every rope to produce enough force to propel the boulder. The second is a counterweight Trebuchet. It has the convenience of impact, range, accuracy, and manpower, while a Traction Trebuchet demands fewer resources and can fire faster. The first requires greater skill in handling, the second in design.'
"Oh, there you are. You must have been here for hours. Everyone has already had dinner."
Charles smiled victoriously at the maester. It mattered little to him; he, after all, had just triumphed.
"I had to finish my work. I think I can hand it in actually." Charles rose up and presented his neat stack of papers to Creylen.
The maester looked astonished for a moment then he trodded from the staircase towards his student's hand out. With shared enthusiasm, he exclaimed "You are quick. Well, I will read it for tomorrow morning. We can discuss the result then."
Charles left the tower; his head held high and with 'Sieges and Assaults' clutched to the chest. It was dark outside, and the gravel flew from the impact of his black boots. After a swift but serene supper, Charles returned to his apartments. He lit a single cozy candle and read his book for two additional hours before dozing off.