Jaime hadn't seen Casterly Rock in almost two years, not since he had left with his father and Cersei for the tourney of Harrenhall. Now though, he almost dreaded returning to the rock. The spartans of House Terra had taken him from the Red Keep, stripped him of his white cloak and brought him back to his family's ancestral home. Lord Kurt himself was walking alongside him, the lord barely acknowledging Jamie as they marched down the empty corridor towards his father's solar. At the door, the two guards to stood outside watched with wide eyes as Jaime and Kurt walked past them and entered into the lion's den.

Tywin Lannister was a man not to be trifled with. The Reynes and Tarbecks had learned that first-hand, and in time so had the entirety of the seven kingdoms. Jaime's father was cold, calculating, and a man whose greatest weapon was not the mountains of gold that he sat on, nor the swords he could raise with but a few ravens. No, Tywin's greatest strength was his mind.

Though Jaime was beginning to thing that even that mind, as formidable at everyone said it was, might not surmount the advantage his father had gained by having the spartans of House Terra in his pocket.

"Lord Tywin." Lord Terra offered a bow of acceptable depth, though not nearly so low as his father expected of just about everyone of lower status than a Lord Paramount or a member of royalty.

"Lord Ambrose." His father returned without a trace of his normal dismissiveness.

Jaime was even shocked when his father offered a nod in greeting, looking up completely from the parchment he had been writing on and instead focusing all his attention on them.

"Jaime." He said, getting up and emerging from behind his desk.

"Father." He returned, unsure as how to respond. He was a Kingsguard. Forced to forswear all titles, loyalties, and family name. But there he was, standing before his father without his white cloak, without a king or queen, a prince, or a princess to guard.

His father examined him for a moment, looking him over as if checking for any injury. After a moment, it seemed that Jaime had passed whatever silent test his father had for him and the Lord of Casterly Rock instead turned his gaze over to the taller man.

"The plan was a success?"

It was a question, but one without serious doubt. Jaime stared at his father for a moment. He was shocked, though he knew in his heart that he shouldn't be. Who else could order the death of a king? Who else in all the world could have their men murder a king and his heir, and have the rest taken away without so much as a hiccup interrupting them. His father spoke of the death of a dynasty like he was asking about the weather, or a small harvest in one of the thousands of farms across their lands. It was as if the murder and overthrow of House Targaryen was a minor event, something to be struck off a list and moved on from.

Lord Ambrose offered a smile and a nod, the expression on his face not one of happiness, but perhaps, of expected pride. As if the very existence of doubt, that the thought that they might fail, was entertaining to him.

"Of course."

Tywin nodded, turning and heading back to his desk.

"Father."

The man stopped, looking back at his son.

"You ordered this?" Jaime asked.

He felt foolish the second the words left his lips. It was obvious, but Jaime's words were not meant to be about that. He knew his father was capable of this, and that he had done it was indisputable, but Jaime felt his stomach turn at the… indignity of it.

"Of course, I did." His father said, as if it was nothing. "Aerys spurned and insulted our family too many times. Ours was not even the only house he so offended. The Starks, Baratheons, their own losses at the hands of the dragon have given all the kingdoms just cause to rebel against the mad king."

"But this?" Jaime asked. "To slaughter the king, his heir, to kill them as you have ordered. It is dishonourable."

"Dishonourable?" Tywin snarled, his face twisting into one of disappointment. "What is honour compared to lives. Is it more dishonourable to have a hundred-thousand men slaughter each other on a battlefield, or to slit the throats of a half-dozen in the night?"

Jaime closed his mouth as his father glowered down at him. He knew his father, perhaps not perfectly, but well enough. Tywin didn't care how many people died fighting, as long as he got what he wanted. Aerys and Rhaegar's death had served a purpose, one that his father had designed.

"And now? The whole of the realm will know what was done, and all will know that you ordered it."

"Good, let them know that not even the dragon is safe from the lion's claws."

Tywin had not taken his seat since he had stood to greet and inspect his son. But now he sat.

"Go now. Your sister will be glad to see you returned home, as will your brother." Tywin's lip curled slightly when he spoke of Tyrion.

"You are permitted to spend time with him now, for he will be off soon."

Jaime felt a pool of dread fill his already sinking gut. His father had always hated Tyrion. A hatred only equalled it seemed by Cersei's own distain for their younger brother. But to send him away? It couldn't be for fostering, nor to squire or page for a lord or knight. That left only two choices, the Wall, or the Citadel.

"You're sending him away?" Jaime asked, a fire in his voice. "He's my brother. I won't let you send him to the Night's Watch to freeze, or the Citadel to be wrapped in chains."

"Then be glad that neither is the case." His father said, without looking up. "Lord Ambrose has offered to take Tyrion under his house's care for a fostering."

Jaime looked at the tall lord, who offered him another smile. This one was different though, there was nothing but kindness in the man's eyes, a sense of, perhaps understanding. Lord Ambrose places his hand on Jaime's shoulder, leaning down so that he could speak in the boy's ear.

"I've heard your brother is a clever boy, I hope to make him a cleverer man. I think he would like that, don't you?"

Standing upright, he gave Jaime a wink, one that promised mischief, and suddenly Jaime didn't feel so bad about Tyrion's departure. Oh, he was still apprehensive, that much was not in doubt, but at least then, in that moment, he could believe that Lord Ambrose had no ill intentions towards his brother.

"By your leave father." He said, bowing and swearing to himself to find Cersei and Tyrion as soon as he could.

"Go." Tywin waved him off, and Jaime took his leave, breaking into a run as soon as the door was closed.

"The rest?" Tywin asked as soon as Jaime was gone.

"In our custody." Kurt replied evenly, the smile gone and his face the picture of calm neutrality.

"Those were not the orders you received." Tywin said, a hint of anger trickling into his voice.

"One of mine wanted them alive. She got attached. I can't say I blame her; the queen was perhaps the most unfortunate lady in that castle."

"More than the washer woman who scrub her clothes?" Tywin asked. "I doubt any of them would have hesitated to kill one of them?"

"Possibly." Kurt said, though he had his doubts.

The bond of camaraderie that his spartans forged amongst each other was not easily broken, and now that Jane had extended that same relationship to Rhaella, even if only partially, it would take quite a bit to convince any of his spartans to eliminate her.

"She's confined to our stronghold, unable to communicate with the outside world. The entire royal family is under our direct control."

"Dispose of them." Tywin said. "Better they die now than start a rebellion down the road."

"All due respect Lord Tywin." Kurt said. "This is no longer your call to make."

Tywin looked up from his letters, glaring at the spartan lord, who simply stared impassively back.

"We had a deal, Ambrose." He growled.

"And it's been upheld." Kurt responded. "Nowhere in our deal was there considerations for this scenario. If there was, we would have upheld our end. As it is, we provide you and the Westerlands with our advancements and occasional military support, and you provide us with the cover to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"And how do you intend to 'keep to yourselves' with the former queen in your walls?"

"I've read your histories 'My Lord'. Queen Alyssa Velaryon and Rhaena Targaryen both sequestered themselves from courtly life after the rise of new monarchs. Rhaena was even dubbed 'Queen of the East' for living on our same island. Rhaella will just be another noblewoman on Fair Isle."

Tywin leaned forwards, lacing his hands together and focusing intently on the man.

"Perhaps." He replied evenly. Though Kurt could practically hear the grinding of his teeth behind his hands. "And Princess Elia and her children? How long will it be before he rises, declaring Robert as Maegor come again and himself as the next conciliator?"

"Elia Martell has already agreed to relinquish and publicly renounce all claims to the iron throne, both for herself and her children."

If Tywin was the type of man to engage in casual sarcasm, Kurt was sure he would be rolling his eyes.

"And the Dornish will simply sit quietly? They're savages who will never stop until they see their precious prince on the throne. Cersei and Robert will be poisoned within a fortnight."

"If that happens, I will have her, and her children eliminated on the spot. The princess knows this. She loved her children too much to risk it."

Tywin seemed to consider it for a moment.

"If even the slightest hint or rebellion is shown…"

"Put down with extreme prejudice."

The two men locked eyes. For a moment, it seemed the entire world had halted to watch two wills clash. In the end though, the lion flinched first, gazing into the void of certainty that was a spartan. Tywin broke eye contact, turning his eyes back to his parchments and scowling.

"Our deal will be renegotiated once this is over Ambrose."

Kurt rose from his seat, voice cold as interstellar space.

"I'm sure it will, Tywin."

With that final exchange, Kurt turned on his heel, walking out.

"We'll send your maester plans for the printing press, and the recipe for better paper, I expect it will arrive in two weeks."

"Good, now leave my castle, and take my son with you."

"It would be my pleasure."

The door shut, perhaps with more force than necessary, but not enough to be considered rude.

Tywin stared at the door for a moment before his face morphed into a snarl. Were he a lesser man, with a looser grip on his temper, he would have torn the carefully written letter sitting on his desk in frustration. As it was, he allowed only the barest hints of his displeasure to appear on his face before they were washed away like sand before the waves. Taking a deep breath, Tywin regained control of his nerves and cursed to himself.

The damn man had him. It was not often, nay, it had never happened before that anyone had gotten the better of him the way Kurt Ambrose had. Tywin was a man who understood power. He understood where it truly came from, why he had it and how to maintain it. Now, all of it was in a precarious balancing act, and his newest and greatest bannerman was threatening to send them all tumbling down to the ground.

Kurt Ambrose did not need him. That much Tywin was aware of, had been since he had sailed to Fair Isle almost five years ago and seen the monstrosity that was the Plataea. He had done well then, bound those newcomers to their lands in an agreement that benefited them both, though Tywin had thought at the time he had gotten the better end of the bargain. It was only now, four years later, that Tywin was seeing just him much he had been played for a fool.

Tywin's only consolation was that despite the fact that Lord Ambrose was very much in the better position of the two of them concerning their deal, he still respected the Lord of the Rock. Kurt had made no secret of that, the spartan's frankness being one of the qualities Tywin had found the easiest to work with. Honesty was the best way to win over the House of Terra, as they had styled themselves under his cloak, and in the beginning, Tywin had even found it refreshing dealing with a man who seemed without an ego that needed soothing, especially compared to dealing with Aerys.

That respect was perhaps the reason that despite his anger over his vassal's refusal of his orders, the man still walked free and unencumbered as a guest of his house, and was even taking his son to foster. No matter what minor annoyances Lord Ambrose might cause, and in the grand scheme of things Rhaella's life, and that of the rest of House Targaryen was little more than passing irritation, the advancements that they provided would pave the way for the Westerlands' supremacy for decades, and even centuries to come.

Already, everything they had been given, under the 'orders' of House Lannister had improved the Westerlands, better farming tools, more efficient methods, information on new veins of wealth, each and every asset that had left the walls of the Plataea had enriched the Westerlands more and more. Tywin could not afford to lose that, even over a few missing royals.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to content himself with the fact that he had lost this round of political cyvasse and resolved himself to win the next. No matter House Terra's intentions, or lack thereof, for power in the seven kingdoms, the Lion would reign supreme in these lands, or Tywin would die trying.

Kurt walked down the halls of Casterly Rock, his face a stony mask. He had pushed to far back there; he was sure of it. Tywin Lannister was a savage, but he was a smart savage. It was almost a waste. A man so intelligent, ruthless, and capable, born in the UNSC would have made admiral easily, might even have given Lord Hood or Parangosky a run for their money. Still though, just because the man was no threat to him directly, didn't mean he couldn't hurt their mission. Tywin's word was law, almost to the letter, in the Westerlands and greater Westeros, and keeping him appeased, if not happy, was the key to helping propel these poor people into the future. The technological stagnation of this place a depressing enough, but factoring in the lengthened seasons, the inconsistency in their length, the religious dogma dragging down the pursuit of science, and the treatment of learning as a necessary annoyance rather than something to aspire to, made Westeros a perfect melting pot to promote ignorance and regression.

Perhaps that was why Kurt had been not only accepting, but eager to take on Tyrion Lannister. Already to school buildings on Fair Isle were close to completion, and according to the census data from the locals, nearly half of them seemed willing to send their children to any schools should they open. Hopefully taking in Tywin's son, crippled or not, and returning him as quite possibly one of the smartest Westerosi born men to ever live would bring enough attention to their education to get the ball rolling. Kurt stopped for a moment, reminding himself that this was more than just a mission, or a way to hopefully get back somewhat onto Tywin's good side. There was boy in the middle of all these moving power plays, and Kurt reminded himself not to forget that, any more than he could forget his spartans were children too. Each and every one of them someone Kurt had been willing to lay down his life for, and every one of them not just his soldiers, but his children.

Kurt wondered about Catherine sometimes when those thoughts struck him. Did she think the same way about his brother, sisters, and him? He doubted it. It was a job for her, no doubt. Another project. The Spartan III program was not a job to Kurt, it was his life, and more than that, it was his family, as much and maybe even more than his own generation had been.

He had fought tooth and nail for every one of his Spartans, tried to give them every advantage, and keep them as safe from harm as he could given their purpose in the greater UNSC war effort. He had fought, schemed, and even bled, all to get them where they were, and because of everything he'd done, they stood here now, the single greatest fighting force in the known galaxy going pound for pound, and now he had no idea what to do next. Autumn had informed him of the trouble cracking the tertiary ET's code. It was advanced on a level they barely understood, and they didn't even have a proper language code to translate. If she and the research teams were to be believed, it would take years, decades even, before a way home could be found.

Looking over the primitive structure of the castle, Kurt wondered if he'd made the right choice. He could have locked the ship down, given Autumn instructions and put everyone into cryo, it would save the base human crew years of life. He shook his head, banishing the thoughts. It wouldn't do anyone any good the think about what might have been, and either way, with life on this world, not even alien life, primitive human life, it was too big a coincidence to ignore. Keeping the crew awake was the right decision, he was sure of it. If for no other reason that it would have been a hell of a wakeup call to find these people years, decades or even centuries later cutting into the ship and thawing them out with questions or accusations on their lips.

Finding himself at the end of the hallway leading to the Maester's chambers, Kurt prepared himself for his last stop of the day. Pushing open the door, he was greeted with the sight of Jaime Lannister standing before a young boy. If Kurt hadn't known better, he would have thought the boy to be younger than he really was, but Kurt had seen the effects of dwarfism in the UEG and UNSC, and even if he hadn't, it was obvious from the boy's fine clothing and lion sigil who he was.

Tyrion seemed to be crying, clutching tightly to Jaime's doublet, and shaking as his older brother hugged him.

"It'll be alright Tyrion." Jaime said softly to the boy. "I'll still visit, and think of it. The Plataea is said to be the largest castle in the world, taller than the wall. If you stand atop it, you'll be the tallest man in the world."

That seemed to cheer up the young boy, who drew his face away and offered his brother a watery smile.

"You promise you'll visit?" He asked.

Jaime held up his hand as if swearing an oath.

"I promise."

Pulling apart, the two turned to see Kurt standing at the door. Jaime rose to his full height, standing in a way that placed him between Kurt and Tyrion. Meanwhile, the young boy seemed almost in shock of him. Kurt supposed this was expected. He was probably the tallest person the boy had ever seen, and if Gregor Clegane was truly the tallest man in Westeros as was generally believed, then he probably was the tallest man alive at the moment.

"Young lord Tyrion." He inclined his head in a nod. "Your father has told me you're quite fond of books."

Tyrion's eyes sparkled at the same time as Jaime rolled his, knowing now that Tyrion would likely not be nearly so reluctant to leave is the promise of other, newer books was available.

"I am." Tyrion nodded, trying to conceal his excitement.

"Well then, I think you will have a grand time in the Plataea. We have quite a selection."

Offering Jaime a nod as well, Kurt ushered the two boys along together, keeping both their attentions with stories of the knowledge contained in the Plataea. Tyrion seemed fascinated by all of it, though Kurt knew to keep the topic focused more on military history in order to keep Jaime's attention.

Leading and following, Kurt made his way through Casterly Rock, waiting for the right time to depart and take Tyrion with him for the first fostering in the Plataea's short service as a quasi-diplomatic vessel. Hopefully this endeavour would be a good sign of further progress in the future.

Quick question for everyone: Do you guys want this to be a 'magic is magic' world, or a 'magic is just science' world?

Post your opinions in the reviews of PM me. As you can guess there might be some ramifications based on which is more popular amongst the readership.

Pretty happy with how this chapter turned out. We see here the relationship between Kurt and Tywin, as well as how Kurt doesn't need to follow his orders. Some people might have wanted a more explosive confrontation, but Tywin and Kurt are both people who seem too composed for me to see shouting at each other. Tywin himself only ever really shouts like twice in the whole tv series and I don't remember if he yelled much more in the books. He and Kurt on the other hand have something of a mutual respect, though that is tainted somewhat by Kurt's general pity to everyone in Westeros for living in well… Westeros. Also, good news for everyone. Tyrion will get to drink and know things even more in this than in canon. Let's see them call him the imp when Tyrion drives up in an M808C main battle tank. Really that's probably not going to happen but it's nice to dream and maybe it'll be an omake or one-shot later on. For now, enjoy.