Chapter 10
His name day came and went, and with it came gifts. Jaime gifted him a Qohorik forged bastard sword, tinted a pale gold. Weapons and armour created in Qohorik forges were superior to any made in Westeros, with only the coveted Valyrian Steel being superior to them.
When Jaime presented the blade to him, light reflected off of it, giving it an appearance of having an ethereal glow. The pommel of the blade was a roaring lion of pure gold with rubies for eyes and a leather grip. The sword was not unlike Jaime's own gilded longsword.
Link looked at the magnificent blade with awe as Jaime said, "Now our blades can match brother, though you will have to grow some more before wearing it on your hip."
Link thanked his brother profusely for the gift, knowing that it wasn't cheap to buy such a thing, even with Lannister gold. As the two brothers walked through the halls of the Red Keep towards the throne room where court was in session, Jaime told Link stories of fighting side by side with legends like Arthur Dayne against the Kingswood Brotherhood.
"With Dawn in hand, Arthur had no equal." Jaime said, his cat-like eyes distant.
Link nodded sagely before saying, "He must have fought with honour"
Jaime barked a short and harsh laugh, turning to look at Link with dark, hooded eyes.
"Honour gets you killed, Link. One way or another, look at Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, see where honour took him. Honour is a lie men tell themselves." Jaime said, his voice dripping with cynicism.
Link was astounded. "That's not true!" He exclaimed, "honour is not a lie. Honour is a goal, something to hold yourself to, a standard. Take Ser Aemon the Dragonknight or Ser Duncan the Tall for an example. They were honourable men but that didn't kill them, Ser Duncan died in the tragedy of Summerhall and Ser Aemon was killed defending his brother from assassins."
Jaime wasn't convinced. "Those men of song may have been honourable but that honour still killed them as it did Arthur Dayne." Jaime said, tone harsh and unyielding.
As Jaime said this, Link's mind went back to his conversation with the King earlier and how he mentioned his friend, Lord Eddard Stark.
"Lord Eddard Stark is called one of the most honourable men in Westeros and he still lives, he is the one who slew Arthur Dayne in battle." Link said with triumph.
Jaime once again laughed a short harsh laugh, before saying with a mocking smile, "Ah yes, the honourable Ned Stark. He still failed in his honour, he has a bastard does he not? Whilst it is true that Stark killed Ser Arthur, it was nothing like the songs make it out to be. Take this one lesson to heart dear brother, life is not a song. Now enough of this arguing, today is a day of celebration."
To this, Link only nodded, not expecting such a reaction from his brother. His heart sank as he realised that Jaime wasn't as perfect as Tyrion's stories made him out to be. The two brothers continued the walk to the throne room in silence. Link pondered their conversation as they walked through the halls of the Red Keep, wondering how far Jaime's cynicism went and what he had against Lord Eddard Stark.
As they walked through the great doors of the throne room the brothers went their separate ways, Link retreating to the corner of the hall with Lann, whilst Jaime made his way to their sister Cersei. The Queen was in a jubilant mood today, acting pleasant towards most that came to court. Not everyone it seems, Link thought as he noticed the poisonous glare Cersei sent his way.
Many a Lord and Lady wished him a happy nameday and inquired on how he was progressing. He was not so arrogant to believe all these sycophants were sincere, no Link knew that the only reason they bothered to speak with him, an untested boy of little repute, was for his father.
One such Lord that approached him was Lord Eustace Brune of Dyre Den, even at that moment, Link could still hear the droning voice of Grand Maester Pycelle telling him the histories of houses like House Brune from the Crownlands.
"Lord Link may I wish you a happy name day, from what I hear someday you will be as good a swordsman as your brother Ser Jaime." Lord Eustace said, his hand hovering over Link's shoulder but not quite touching it in case Lann might interrupt him.
"Has there been any word on your uncle, Ser Gerion, from his journey to Old Valyria?" The man asked with curiosity.
"No, I am afraid there hasn't been any word on my uncle, but I have full confidence-"
"Ha!" Lord Eustace exclaimed, "I apologise my Lord, but your uncle was foolish to venture into such an accursed place. Your Lord father on the other hand is a truly great man." The Lord said, oblivious to any offence he may have caused.
Link felt fury rush through his veins at the Lord's words, how dare he say such things! Gerion is worth ten of father and Lord Brune both. Link thought with vehemence.
"Thank you for your kind words my Lord, they mean a lot, if you would excuse me." Link said hurriedly, eager to escape this situation. Lord Brune nodded and shook Link's hand with a manic grin, the man then leaned in and ruffled Link's hair, furthering Link's discomfort and fury.
As the man walked off, as pleased as a peacock, Link turned to see Cersei glaring at him once more, her eyes filled with hate and strangely fear. What have I done to make her fear me? Link thought with no small amount of worry.
Jon Arryn held court today on the Iron Throne, Robert was no doubt in his chambers, drinking and whoring. Each morning, Link was required to attend court, just because Cersei knew he hated it. A petty punishment, but one he still felt all the same.
Before the Lord Hand could make his next decree, Cersei cleared her throat and looked to all who attended court that day, her gaze silencing all it fell on.
"My Lords and Ladies, his Grace and I have a very important announcement to make." Cersei said, her head raised proudly. "I am pleased to announce that I am with child." The moment she finished the hall erupted in applause for the happy news and Cersei's gaze turned to him, seemingly mocking him for the loss of his well wishers.
Link only gave Cersei a beaming smile full of teeth in response. He was grateful for the bootlickers looking elsewhere, he found their words and grasping nature's uncomfortable at best. With Cersei distracted by the congratulations she was receiving, Link quickly left the Throne Room and made his way to his lessons with Grand Maester Pycelle.
As he walked through the halls of the keep, his thoughts turned to his sister Cersei and her pregnancy. Now that she's pregnant, Cersei will be in even fouler moods than usual. Paired with the sickness and cravings of pregnancy his sister's barbs and pettiness would increase tenfold.
Thoughts of Cersei's potential morning sickness made Link remember the last time he was sick. Ever since he was a small child, Link could only recall being sick once. Two years prior, at the end of the futile Greyjoy Rebellion at the Tourney at Lannisport. Just before all the nobles of Westeros were to arrive at Lannisport, he fell ill with redspots. Due to all of his siblings not contracting redspots when they were children, he was unable to go to the tourney and meet Cersei and Jaime.
He would never forget the crushing disappointment that he had felt when the maester had ordered that no one was to see him and that he wasn't allowed to attend the tourney. Link could still remember hearing the shouts and jovial cheers of one of the many feasts held during the tourney echo through the Lannisport manse.
The only member of his family who was able to comfort him was Gerion, who, like Link, had contracted redspots when he was a child. He could still remember his Uncle's warm smile and self-deprecating japes whilst he told him stories of the wonders of the world and knights like Ser Arthur Dayne and Symeon Star-Eyes. It made Link appreciate his Uncle even further when he missed the tourney to comfort him.
Come back soon Gerion, I hate this stinking viper's den. Link thought with desperation, after so many moons without word from his uncle on his expedition to the ruins of Valyria, many at court had expressed doubt on him coming back to Westeros. No! Gerion can't be dead, he swore to me that he would be back, he thought angrily. He must be on his way back or lost, and if he is lost father will surely send men to find him, even if he believed Gerion's quest to be folly he can't abandon his brother.
Noticing Link's dark thoughts and expression, Lann made to reassure Link. "Pay no attention to the spineless leeches at court milord, I'm sure your uncle, Lord Gerion, is fine" Lann said kindly, with a comforting smile.
Link only nodded in reply, banishing the thoughts of his uncle from his mind whilst the pair arrived at the room where his lessons were held. Link nodded to Lann once more as he left him to face Pycelle alone.
As Link entered and closed the door behind him, the Grand Maester rose from his chair and made his way to the front of the room. Link hurried to his seat absentmindedly thumbing the silver lion brooch that Tyrion had gifted him along with books detailing the adventures of Ser Duncan the Tall and his then squire, King Aegon the Unlikely.
"Good morning Lord Link, in preparation for your future lessons on Daemon Blackfyre and his family's failed rebellions, you will first learn the extensive histories of house Targaryen up to Daemon Blackfyre receiving the sword, Blackfyre." Pycelle said in his persistent droning voice.
Link could only slump in his chair as he realised that lessons with the Grand Maester would always be boring.
After his lessons with Grand Maester Pycelle, Link made his way to the King's chambers to officially begin his squireship. Thank Farore those damned lessons are over. Link thought grouchily. First Pycelle tries to kill with boredom from describing in vivid detail the life of Aenar the Exile, then he tries to murder me with numbers.
Link's internal complaints came to a stop as he entered the King's compartments with a nod from Ser Meryn Trant guarding the entrance. As per usual the king was steadily drinking from a jewelled goblet, though absent of any company. Most days when Link had served King Robert as his cupbearer, the king would be in the company of Thoros of Myr or other drinking companions. So for the King to be alone meant two things. The first was that Robert wanted to speak with him alone, but the second, and more likely, was that the King was in one of his foul moods. During such moods, Robert would lament the fate of the late Lyanna Stark and curse Rhaegar Targaryen even more vehemently than usual.
The King looked up at his squire once he heard Link tread on the myrish carpets, grinning at him as he looked at Link with his stormy blue eyes. The King finished his goblet of wine and continued to stare at Link as he bowed and made his way to pour the King another goblet of Dornish Red.
"You are my squire now Lannister." Robert said, his voice echoing throughout the chamber, "As your knight I must take charge with your martial education, so you will take lessons with Ser Aron Santagar with the other squires as I have other duties that take my attention."
Link felt himself deflate as heard the King's words. He liked the Dornish master at arms well enough but to learn from the King himself, one of the most renowned warriors throughout the seven kingdoms, would have been a great opportunity.
The King must have noticed Link's disappointment as he smiled once more. "Today though I shall watch you in the yard, to see the truth behind you and your admirers words." Robert said with amusement.
As they walked through and over the drawbridge of Maegor's Holdfast, the King once again recounted a blow by blow description of his duel with Prince Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident to all who would hear, which was quite a lot of people by now, Link noted. The King attracted sycophants like flames attracted moths.
Once they reached the Red Keep's training grounds, Robert called out to Ser Aron who was going through a drill with the other squires and pages. "Ser Aron!" Robert boomed.
"Your grace, how may I be of service." The Dornishman asked after falling to one knee. The training grounds were boiling, the sun causing the obsidian in the King's crown to sparkle.
Robert motioned Ser Aron to rise with an impatient wave before saying, "I want to see the measure of my squire's talent." The King then turned to him, and with a grin said, "Lannister, you will spar against Ser Aaron with tourney blades and if you lose I will make you squire for Sandor Clegaane for a week"
Link opened his mouth to protest, Clegane wasn't even a knight and was a foul man to be around, but begrudgingly swallowed his protests. King Robert was the King, he couldn't be insolent with him like he was with Lord Tywin. His father would stare at him coldly and dismiss him, but Robert was temperamental and prone to rage especially when drunk as he was now. Link nodded to the King and went to get a blunted bastard sword from the rack with a shield whilst putting on some boiled leather as armour.
Standing before Ser Aron with all the squires watching, Link was filled with adrenaline, I will not fail, not like I did with Jaime or the thugs from Flea Bottom. I will win! Link swore with righteous fury.
"Are you ready boy?" Ser Aron asked gruffly but not unkindly. Link bounced on the balls of his feet, his body singing with anticipation, and nodded, readying his bastard sword and shield into proper position. Time seemed to stop around him as he evaluated the man. After training with him for seven moons Link was familiar with Ser Aron's style, he favoured speed rather than brute strength and enjoyed putting on a show, especially for powerful men like the King. I will have to use that against him, Link thought.
Ser Aron made the first move, slashing his blade as quick as a whip, aiming for Link's torso. Link blocked with his shield and quickly slashed out at the Master at arms' arm, the knight reacted just like Link wanted, blocking the attack with his sword rather than hopping back, leaving the Dornishman's side open. Link took advantage of this and bashed his shield into Ser Aron's unprotected shoulder, causing the man to stumble, before forcing the man on the defence with a flurry of slashes and stabs.
The knight blocked every one of his strikes and kicked out at Link, causing him to hop back, creating the space that Ser Aron had dearly wished to create between them. They circled each other once more, Ser Aron twirling his blade as he did so. Every time the knight blocked his attacks, he favoured his right side whilst doing so, no doubt still hurting after having Link's heavy shield bash against his shoulder. The Knight's breaths came out in pained huffs compared to the start of the fight and his face was covered in a light sheen of sweat. A plan formed in Link's mind as he leapt out to continue their dangerous dance.
Link feinted to the right and the tired Ser Aron took the bait, Link reared back and slashed his blade into the man's protected ribs causing him to flinch in pain. Link took advantage of his natural reaction and bashed the pommel of his sword into the man's jaw, causing Ser Aron's head to snap back. Link then bashed his shield into Ser Aron's shoulder once more before slapping the man's blade away from him with his own and brought his sword up to the master at arms' throat.
"Yield Ser." Link said with finality.
"I yield." The Dornishamn said with a pained laugh.
That night Link did what he did near every other night, he went to visit Val. Sometimes he would go down to Flea Bottom like he did tonight, disguised as a member of the smallfolk with only a dagger in the dead of night without any guard. Other times he would go as himself, Link son of Tywin and Joanna Lannister, heir to the Rock. He would give out all of his coppers to the people with Lann and a retinue of Lannister guards at his side.
On nights like this though, Link was alone with Val on a rooftop overlooking the city of King's Landing and its people celebrating the news of a new Royal child on the way. This particular night, Link had brought his harp with him. His teacher was astonished at his rapid progress with the instrument, calling him a prodigy like many others have done. Their praise made him melancholy and made him think of Zelda.
"I've never heard this song before Link." Val said, her silver hair shimmering in the moonlight.
"That's because it's very rare, Val. From a far away kingdom called Hyrule. It's called the song of time and the stories say that if played with a special instrument it can send the player back in time." Link said softly, sadness and guilt almost suffocating him.
"Tell me more about Hyrule Link, it sounds like a land of adventure!" Val said, her grin and shining eyes showing her eagerness.
So he did. Link told Val all about Hyrule, from its creation by the Golden Goddesses, to all the different races of Hyrule. When he told her of the Gerudo she laughed and wished to be just like the warrior women. In response, Link only smiled sadly. He even told her of his quest, changed to have a more happy ending, just like the songs of all the great knights. Val loved the story of the Hero of Time, for it was just that, a story. Jaime was half right. There is honour in this world, but life is not a song. The songs are just idealised versions of the Knights they detail, most of whom did not have a happy ending. Just like me.
Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long but I had some trouble with it and I'm still not sure that I am happy with it. My exams are thankfully over now, which is a relief. I can now focus on writing this story. I spent quite a bit of time planning out the details of this fic and the ending of it. I have decided that there will be four parts to this fic, part one has around one or two chapters left.
Thanks for reading and please review it helps a lot!