Jaime Lannister*
He stinks of sweat. It's been a hard day. Winter passed, and the hot summer sun burnt the back of his neck. His muscles ached from the weight of his sword. The situation of his companions was worse.
Eleven-year-old Jaime Lannister proved himself to be a hardened warrior. He could easily defeat anyone, even boys twice his size. He found a sword in his hand as naturally as a baby might find a toy.
"Had enough for the day, eh, boy?" Shouted Ser Jonas Swyft.
"I could go on all day, Ser Jonas," he replied with a grin. "Can't say the same for these folks."
"Aye. The day is too hot for this anyway. Go back to the castle. And Rhodes! Don't let your guard down. He wouldn't have been able to twat you unless you had been reckless," he said.
He was happy when Jonas left early today. Not that he hated being in the grounds. He loved swinging his sword, the feel of the wind as his horse galloped through Casterly Rock. But he was tired. He had been up most of the night talking with Cersei. She always found something to talk about. Mostly, it was about how it was unfair she was not taught to fight.
He went back to his room, had a long bath, and dressed up. He knew there was a new singer in town. He was supposed to perform today. He promised his mother he would be there. Though he hated most songs, they were often about some fair maiden and some knight falling in love. But he loved the songs about the wars and the great knights. He was hopeful the singer might do the one about Barristan the Bold and the War of Ninepenny Kings. Or the one about Aegon the Conqueror.
"Jaime!" His sister shouted from across the hall. "Mother, he's here! Let him start already."
He sighed. Cersei was never known for her patience. He was wild and impulsive. He liked her for that. Sometimes he would look at her and see himself.
He sat beside his mother and looked around. As always, the Great Hall was packed with people. The large seat in the middle of the high table remained empty. Although he was glad his father wasn't around breathing down his neck. He missed him. He wished he could have gone with him to King's Landing. Where the brave and the bold reside. The best of the knights train. But his father always refused to have him in the capital, so here he was.
The singer was already bowing to the Lady of Casterly Rock and her attending knights. "Greetings, my lady. It's an honor to be performing in such a grand place as Casterly Rock...
"Honor! My foot! He knew there was a lot of gold involved. Why would it be an honor to sing? And what would he do with honor?" whispered Cersei. He frowned. "It's an honor for him. People would recognize that he performed for us. I know there's gold involved, but I'd put honor before gold any day." She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. Their mother was giving them THE look.
"And today I would like to start off by honoring the Lord of the castle. It's very sad his presence is missing. The song which shows the might of Lord Tywin Lannister. Hand of the king. Shield of Lannisport. My lady presenting the 'Rains of Castamere.'"
He had heard the Rains of Castamere before. It scared him. He knew it was about his father. But it always scared him. He understood The song tells of the might and power of Lannisters, but it also has a sad note to it.
The harp came alive in the singer's hands with a solemn tune.
And who are you, the proud lord said
That I must bow so low
Only a cat of a different coat
I saw the truth I know
A coat of gold, a coat of red
A lion still has claws
And mine are long and sharp, my lord
As long and sharp as yours
It wasn't the words. Not the sound of the harp. It was as if the music echoed inevitable doom. As if the music had the power to end an entire house. To scare kings...
And so he spoke,
The Lord of Castamere...
And now the rains weep on his halls,
And not a soul to hear.
He felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Perhaps it was the oysters he had eaten before. "Excuse me, Mother," he said as he walked out into the corridor.
He walked toward the large window at the edge of the corridor. The wind howled through from the sea. He looked out to the vast open land stretching ahead. He didn't want to go back to the great hall. The songs were boring anyway. The sun had set. But his head was abuzz with a certain uneasiness. He didn't understand why the song bothered him so much. What his father did. The ruthlessness in it. His mind raced to all of the random incidents where people looked at him and instantly showed respect. Or was it fear? Where he got into any sort of confrontation and people would immediately back away. Was it because the fear his father inspired? Surely! But would he rather be respected? He shook his head. He needed to clear his mind. Surely, everyone would have already left the yard to see the bard. No chance he would find a friendly face to spar. He sighed as he walked toward the archery range. A bow wasn't really his favorite. And any respectable Westerman would prefer a crossbow anyway.
With each arrow he shot, his mind kept wandering to the now ruined and flooded castle. He found it hard to believe his father had acted with so much cruelty as to wipe out an entire house. The people who died. Men, women, and children. But people praise him for it. So is killing people in such a way good or bad? Should death be unleashed with such uncompassionate way? He didn't know what to make of his father.
"Seems distracted, Jaime?" a voice from behind asked.
He turned around to see a tall figure leaning against the wall watching him. The figure was an almost mirror image of his father, but without the stern look on his face.
"Uncle Kevan! Aren't you going to see the new singer?" Kevan Lannister was his favorite relative. He was kind and smart. People say he was a ferocious warrior. But in a time where there were very few wars to be fought, he turned out to be just another lord.
"Songs and feasts are not my thing, little nephew. And I need some fresh air." He said. "You seem to have missed your target by a long shot, Jaime."
"I was just thinking..." he knew Kevan fought with his father in the war. He must have some answers about why his father acted that way. Does he agree with everyone else too? Is it the way the world actually works?
"I was thinking about Castamere," he said, putting down the bow.
"Father... he wiped out the entire Reyne family. I don't understand, Uncle. Why? Father is a lord. A lord paramount. Why would he be so ruthless and cruel?"
Kevan sighed, head down. Jaime could see the pained look he was trying to hide. "It was a hard choice, Jaime. I was there that day." He said, shaking his head. "What you need to understand is that it wasn't a decision he took in one day or a month. It was a choice that took years to make. It wasn't like what the singers sing. There was nothing glorious about it. Even Tywin knows. He was left with a hard choice. And he took it."
"But why? I've known they refused to pay their debts... But killing women and children! He could have defeated them and taken their gold." He asked.
Kevan smiled at him, a tinge of sadness in his eyes. "Your father is not a heartless man. Not many people see the full picture."
"Tell me then," he quipped. Kevan looked at those intense eyes. Every bit of Tywin Lannister stared back at him. He took a deep breath. "Sit down, young nephew. You're going to hear a great story."