Chapter 12: Chapter 11: Calm (279 AC)
Chapter 11: Calm (279 AC)
~o~
I was now thirteen years old, but there was much that had happened in the three years since Melisandre came to live in Casterly Rock instead of at Lannisport. The ruby choker around my neck was too obvious so I had it changed to a bracelet when I couldn't convince her to disconnect me from it. It wasn't for lack of trying, but she often only answered with veiled words and cryptic sayings. In other words, she was misdirecting me with nonsense. I was pretty sure it was nonsense since her words to me seemed to change every time I asked. Normally, you would be able to narrow down the true answer with so many different "clues," but they had only the vaguest connection to each other, such that they were almost unrelated. Probably was, given how she acted.
I had gained an odd reputation. I was viewed as practically the spokesperson for the red faith. The septons and septas have practically taken to trying to corner at all times of the day, preaching to me to return to the "right" path. They had taken to conducting lectures in the courtyard below my window. It wasn't like I was religious in the first place, but I wasn't that bad. I used to go the Shinto temples on New Years to buy a paper fortune telling and—actually, that was it. Still, the way they were going about it made it seem like I was the root of all evil.
Tywin ignored me for a year. It was a productive year.
When I was eleven years old, what got him talking to me again was because an invitation was sent to me by Rhaegar to squire under him at King's Landing. I probably would have been squired, if I hadn't been so adamant against it. I had a nice, comfortable lifestyle here. If I became a squire, not only would my days be filled with menial tasks, but I would also be training from dawn to dusk. Was this the so-called medieval youth? Working everyday at a sport in order to attain glory at the regional and national tournaments? Would I be able to make it to Koshien stadium with my baseball team?
Haha, baseball, you ask? Isn't swinging a bat and a sword the same thing?
Frankly, that was youth. Putting in your all to reach that championship, after which only one of you will become a pro-athlete (not you) while the rest (probably you) hang up their cap and join a black company.
What? It builds character? I'm sure getting a job cleaning the sewers builds character too, but you won't see me down there with a mop. The lies told to youth are the same ones that make up youth.
In conclusion, youth is a miserable little pile of lies, but mankind ill needs a savior such as me.
With all that in mind, could I invest that amount of effort and time to be a squire?
The answer to that was obviously no. I had to get out of it by any means necessary so I did everything I could. Almost all of it didn't work, but it did force Tywin down to my level. If he had stayed adamant as a parent—and lord of the Lannister House—then I would have no choice. However, to convince me to go willingly, he played into my hands. I challenged him to a war game using the complete set of rules that took me years to make and balance. It was so complete and detailed that a match certainly could not be played casually or even easier, with each turn being both time-consuming and mentally draining.
With Uncle Kevan as our game master—providing judgment as well as an ear to hear and keep track of the secret tactics we used against each other—and our only other spectators being close relatives that we could trust such as my uncles and aunts, we began a game that encompassed the entirety of Westeros. From sunrise to sunset, we played, but even then, it took more than half a year before we finished. We did not explain our tactics to each other like we usually did in the rule-lite version; every single action was accompanied by mechanics that involved numbers and the dice, adjusted by Uncle Kevan for the difficulty of each action.
Tywin started as the Lannister House of the Westerlands and I began the game as the Baratheon House of the Stormlands. The Targaryens could not be played as, as they were NPCs with their own unique mechanics that made them similar to a Shogun in feudal Japan, though with more power. The rules were very detailed. Every month was a turn. The map was gridded, such that when secret actions were told to Uncle Kevan, the location would be spoken through coordinates rather than pointing with a finger to keep each of those actions private. Each city and village had an economy, one that both simple and complex. Of course, I couldn't make it like a real video game since I didn't have a computer to do all the calculations, but it was detailed enough to be approximate based on a few resources that were clumped together into a single category like food. Even the morale was calculated for each town and village as well as for the armies. Everything that I could think of was put in here.
And so we began a game to decide my future. With so much weight behind it, I played aggressively from the start. While Tywin was building up political connections, I focused on resources. What I learned from real time strategy games was that I had to build my economy first and foremost; everything else would come later. Each of our territories came with an inherited army, one that I quickly put to use to cut down on banditry in my region. The Westerland started with an advantage in that Casterly Rock contained a huge gold mine, but the Stormlands was not without its benefits. As my territory was close enough to Essos, I sent out preliminary ships across the Narrow Sea to begin negotiation on trade agreements with the various port cities. It was without question that I did it to increase the wealth of my economy. As the Westerland was on the far side of Westeros, even if they set up an agreement with Essos, they would have to have ships travel around the entire continent. Not many would be willing to do such a trip.
Of course, I couldn't have the ships riding to their deaths through Shipbreaker Bay. Even if I had a safe route mapped out through underwater rock formations, the storms could easily push the ships into those rocks anyways. So my solution was simple. That was to not use Shipbreaker Bay at all. I had the ships sail around the northern side of the island of Tarth and across the Straits of Tarth. That meant a trading port had to be created a little bit north of Storm's End, under the control of House Roger, but it was close enough to the main road. It would also be the place where I would build my ship fleet, with wood provided from Kingswood.
How I played in those strategy video games had influenced my way of thinking. As my economy increased, I recruited more to my standing army while improving both their training and equipment. I focused on training peasants into men-at-arms instead of focusing on the nobility's knights. Trade agreements were quickly reached with House Tyrell in the Reach and secret sanctions were leveled against the Westerlands. It was a few schemes to lower his food supply. However, I underestimated Tywin. He made a lot of connections and allies, letting him bypass my schemes by using House Hightower and their control of Oldtown, while putting me on the defensive with agreements with Houses within my territory. From there, our secret war was fought for many turns. After that, war finally broke out. Even with the crown's intervention, we were already enemies from the start and it merely escalated. By that time, the entirety of Westeros was engulfed in war.
Tywin had more allies, but I had a stable trade and war economy. Sellswords and sellsails supplemented the numbers I lacked while my overly trained army was able to rip through hosts filled with arrogant knights and hastily conscripted peasants. What did he think would happen when you used peasants that only wielded hoes and kitchen knives? I didn't need to be a professional gamer to know the results of that.
However, I didn't rely on just my army. I wanted a hundred percent completion rate, a perfect run. Tywin thought of this war game as an extension of real life. In fact, everyone from Westeros would think this way. However, I thought of it as an actual game. As such, I used tactics and methods that could only be done by me specifically because I thought of this was as a game. I poisoned wells of villages, killed off his resource collectors, bribed his warehouse managers to misplace their inventory into my pocket, dug tunnels underneath towns and loaded it with barrels of wildfire, paid pirates and Ironborn to reave across his coastlines, planted traitors that gave false information, lured his hosts into forests filled with deadly traps, and used assassins to frequently kill off random city dwellers to cause a campaign of terror. My tactics were vile to the extreme, but it brought results.
As I escalated the game, using the underhanded weapons in my arsenal, so too did Tywin become more ruthless, seeming to hold himself back far less than before. From this, I saw a new side of him that I hadn't seen in my entire life. I admit that I was afraid of him, but he was probably the same, afraid of me. As the game went on, Tywin left the duties of lordship to Aunt Genna and Uncle Tygett. Even then, they came by frequently enough to watch, even as the weeks turned into months. As time went on, so too did the looks of the spectators changed. I saw this especially with Uncle Tygett and Uncle Gerion. Both were proud, never wanting to be under Tywin's shadow yet unable to, which frustrated them. However, the look in both of their eyes gradually turned into something different. It was fear and disgust.
I felt something from that, but at the same time, I knew that feeling well enough. However, I couldn't stop now. By the time that the war game reached the late stages, what had been created was two sides that absolutely could not reconcile. Only one side could live; there would be no peace or coexistence. Even mercy was off the plate at this point. The battles were desperate and bloody. When supplies were low, we raided each other. By the end, every action we committed erupted into violence against the other. It was a bitter war of attrition.
A war that I won by the skin of my teeth. I shattered Casterly Rock and sent whole mountain into the sea. By the end of it, seventy percent of Westero's population had been eradicated, banditry and barbarian tribes were uncountable, and war fleets from Essos were invading. However, I had won, and that was the end of the game. The aftermath wouldn't be pretty, but that wasn't my problem.
Everyone who had the privilege to speculate was there to witness the last stages of the war game. I could see it in their eyes and expressions. If they thought Tywin was ruthless and cunning, then they thought of me as a monster. However, when I looked at Tywin, he was still staring at the table. When he finally looked up, he started laughing. It was an unrestrained laughter that echoed throughout the entirely silent room.
The expression on everybody listening was a fearful one, as if they were disturbed by it. For me, I didn't really feel much about it.
After that, even though this match was to be kept a secret under threat of punishment, my relatives started looking at me differently. That was especially prominent in Uncle Tygett and Uncle Gerion. They feared me, even though I was a paper lion. There were also traces of nervousness, but instead of disgust, I saw something different. I still couldn't figure out what it was.
At least, I didn't have to squire anymore.
The next year, when I was twelve years old, was actually a quiet year. I played around with Cersei and Tyrion. While Cersei's hatred of our younger brother was still there, it was muted in my presence. There was that consolation, at least. Tyrion was a frail child, so I talked to him and helped him read books since there wasn't much he could do in the first place. Even then, I didn't spend that much time with him. With how nobody really paid him much attention, he looked up to me, and that made me uncomfortable. Still, I tried to make some time no matter how I felt about it.
Ever since Jamie left, Cersei had become more grouchy and irritable. We played far less those days, with her concentrating more on her practices and studies. She had also started to build connections with the girls around her, having them trail behind her like a flock of birds. That made her far less approachable to me. I knew that it was a part of her growing up, but I really didn't feel too good about it. We were starting to separate from one another.
Jamie couldn't visit often from King's Landing, not with his squireship under Rhaegar. He was getting far more skilled at the blade. Cersei hadn't been able to keep up and even got mad about that, even though she herself had cut down on her practice time. Still, that lit a fire in her to improve herself. He used to depend on my judgment for many issues, but I saw he was starting to become independent. That was a good thing, though it did feel a bit lonely. His visits were always too short before he had to be sent back to King's Landing.
Melisandre was still teaching magic to Cersei and me. Even with how loyal and trustworthy she was, she still had a bad habit of hiding in my room and watching me sleep. I had started to ignore it after the first dozen times I threw her out, but that seemed to embolden her. Still, as all humans could, I adapted to it.
My time was taken up with learning in more depth the duties of lordship. Since the match, Tywin had taken it upon himself to push me further in my education about ruling over the Westerlands. Besides dealing with paperwork and reports, he took me around the various nearby castles, holds, towns, and villages in order to familiarize myself with it. At first, I was allowed to take the carriage, but eventually, he wanted me to practice riding. It was such a bouncy affair that not only did it hurt my ass, it made me nausea. I was slowly getting over that.
Well, that was what happened to me, but things were changing in the world.
After Tywin's resignation from being the Hand of the King, the one who replaced him was Owen Merryweather, but because of his incompetent fumbling, even his sycophantic attitude couldn't save him. He was replaced by Steffon Baratheon, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, not to mention he was the cousin and old friend of King Aerys. He was a competent man, enough to keep things afloat even if he couldn't improve it. King Aerys seemed to favor him far more than he ever favored Tywin. When Duskendale stopped paying taxes, Steffon marched a host over to the large port town and spoke with Lord Denys of House Darklyn. Whatever happened there caused the Lord Paramount to raze the town to the ground. Steffon was tight-lipped on what occurred, but King Aerys was quick to forgive him for both his action and his silence.
The red faith hadn't spread out like I thought it would. The Faith of the Seven had become entirely hostile, using a smear campaign that effectively quarantined the religion of R'hllor to pretty much just the Westerlands. Even then, the red faith wasn't even in more than half the Westerland. There had been talks about trying to reinstate the Faith Militant, but the king was quick to curtail that, harshly and brutally. Putting weapons into the hands of people that weren't beholden to the crown wasn't something that any king would allow. Well, besides the religious ones like Baelor.
Just like that, my thirteenth birthday had passed by. Three years had passed by since the clamorous event that led to Melisandre joining me as a close confidant and teacher.
Cersei had recently experienced her first menstruation or "flowering" as they call it here, so she was considered to be of marriageable age, even though she was also still considered to be a child. The age of majority, when a child becomes an adult, was on their sixteenth birthday. Well, it wasn't something that we all had to worry about at the moment since none of us have marriages arranged.
Oh? Thought you misheard that? No, that was right! I was freed from the arranged marriage. To others, it would seem like a situation where I received the dreaded and despicable attack of netorare, better known as NTR. To all of Westeros, it would seem like my marriage partner was stolen from me, unjustly at that by the crown prince Rhaegar. What a nice fellow, taking one for the team.
In all seriousness, this marriage arrangement between Rhaegar and that two-faced nice girl in Dorne was both a snipe at Tywin and to reign the prince in.
There were attempts to find him a wife in Essos with both criteria of blood and status. While there were people of Valyrian blood, their statuses were all too low. Thus, they started looking closer to home. Out of all the eligible girls out there from the different great Houses that composed Westeros, King Aerys chose my betrothed. How could this not be seen as a direct insult against the Lannister House? Tywin and many of my relatives were furious. The entire Westerland was pretty much livid.
As for me, I stopped caring about her after her letters had stopped. She didn't even notify me of the new arrangements. How could I harbor anything but loathing against her? I admit, I had a little bit of hope that it wouldn't end as I expected, but of course, my predictive eye showed the truth through the veil of lies. Truly, nice girls were never to be trusted. All they tended to do was bring up your hopes before stabbing you in the back and twisting the knife. Not that I would know that feeling since I preemptively made myself a fortress. Nope. Not at all.
So what was next on the agenda?
Apparently, getting another arranged marriage to replace my old one.
As I stood on the deck of the ship, watching how the blue ocean reflected the sparkle of the sunlight, I reflected on my life so far and achieved enlightenment, thus becoming a buddha. Well, ideally, that would be what I would be doing on the first ship ride I had ever taken in Westeros, but instead, I was holding on to the railing as I tried to keep my lunch in. I had been on a boat ride once before on Earth with no real adverse effect, but the rocking of this ship was far more heavier here. Getting used to the rickety motion was a trial in and of itself.
Why was I on a ship? That was because I was heading for the Reach along with Tywin and a cadre of loyal retainers. Of course, somehow, that included my most loyal bodyguard and stalker, Melisandre. It had gotten to the point where I could somehow feel her gaze even when I couldn't see her; that was just showed how often she stalked me from the shadows. I had gained a sixth sense exclusive for her, though it only seemed to be effective half the time.
"Crakehall is in sight, my lord," Melisandre said from her position by my side, as if she had always been there. I was pretty sure I was alone a moment before; I hadn't even heard her footsteps.
I used to think that marriage was the graveyard of life. Or more specifically, it was children. If you asked any adults with kids back in Japan, they would say their children's happiness was their happiness. All of the hobbies and activities they used to do before? Gone. Now, it was just their children's happiness that mattered. That was called good parenting. You were subsumed to ensure that the next generation would be able to carry on your genetics and serve as fodder for the succeeding generation. All your available time, if it wasn't taken over already by overtime hell, would be dedicated to spending time with your child doing things like watching that particular children movie for the fifty-sixth time.
Here, in Westeros, it was a bit different. Or rather, for nobility, it was different. Good parenting involved having good servants to raise your child for you. As long as you cared every once in a while, you were considered a good parent. I had to admit that it fit my style, even though I felt bad about it. How about I settle for a compromise then? I will raise my child a little more closely than the Westero nobility standard, thereby qualifying me as a super parent in this society's eyes. Yep, I should settle with that.
As we drifted closer to port, I leaned over the railing and puked.
~o~
After we paid a short—and inconsequential—visit to Crakehall where I rested my stomach, it took few more days of ship riding before my brain finally adjusted to the rolling and pitching. I no longer needed to lose the contents of my stomach every now and then, allowing me to majestically stand on the deck of the vessel in all my glory and breathe in the saltiness of the sea.
I wasn't a fan of the smell of the sea, but the cabin was worse.
Still, it wasn't long before the next destination came into sight. The port city of Oldtown where the seat of House Hightower—a major vassal house in the Reach—resided as well as the Maester's Citadel. It was a trade port that was teeming in commerce, and part of that was from the trade routes with Essos. That part actually led to some goodwill on my behalf.
My connections with the red faith had opened some trade agreements with certain cities in Essos with the most prominent being Myr. However, to reach Lannisport, they had to go down under the southern tip of Westeros and follow the shoreline up to Lannisport. That meant that they had to stop by Dorne and the Reach to trade and resupply to finish the journey to Lannisport and back again. Therefore, part of the wealth that I was gaining leaked off to them.
Since Dorne was out of the question in regards to marriage candidates, the Reach was nice alternative, especially since the status and wealth of the Reach was second only to the Westerlands. Truthfully, we would have headed for House Tyrell, but House Hightower was on the way. It made sense to go here first. Besides, if we skip it, they would think worse of us when we come by afterwards. Not that I personally care, but Tywin wouldn't be remiss on that.
That was the thing about transmigration stories. Usually, the protagonist would be placed in a terrible situation where they would have to use their skills, wit, and cunning to magnificently show off their abilities as they better their lives. That would usually involve—for transmigration stories involving a start in nobility—incompetent parents that would force you to take over or be considered such a bad fruit that you would be disowned. However, that wasn't the case here, obviously. With Tywin around and my status as his heir, I really didn't have to do anything to live a easy life. Of course, it would also be a short life if I didn't do anything about the coming apocalypse. I wasn't too keen on that type of ending.
As I stood on the deck of the ship, watching how the blue ocean reflected the sparkle of the sunlight, I reflected on my life and reached no sort of enlightenment at all. Having not puke nor become a buddha, I was not filled with a sense of disappointment. Instead, I felt nothing.
As expected.
Sailing beside the ship were two warships, both flying Lannister flags. There was a need for protection since there were still pirates on the seas, though these areas were relatively safe unlike the Summer Sea near Dorne since Ironborn ships patrolled around here more frequently. Though, it would be careless to not to pay attention to nearby Ironborn ships. While Lord Quellon Greyjoy of the Ironborn had made reforms which included the banning of reaving, not all of his people were content to abide by his decision. Of course, these patrols came at a price. Just like the "protection" fees demanded by Yakuza, if the coastal regions didn't pay their regularly scheduled costs on time, I would imagine that they would let some "rebellious" Ironborn raiders remind them of that fact.
Still, I had a different type of worry to ponder about.
"Father, why the Reach?" I took a glance at the stoic man beside me. Standing tall and firm, Tywin didn't bother to turn his head as he gave his response.
"An alliance with the Reach is the most beneficial for the Westerland," Tywin simply said.
Left unsaid was that it was one of the more difficult regions to arrange a marriage alliance with. The Reach was the one of the most profitable territory in Westeros, second only to the Westerland. That was because they had an abundance of fertile land. Since they were positioned in the southern areas, they were relatively out of the conflict zones unlike the Riverlands so some of their architecture and infrastructure had been around for centuries. The Reach was actually split between three core powers. House Tyrell, House Tarly, and House Hightower. The only reason there wasn't more conflict was because House Tarly was subservient and House Hightower was unambitious. In return, House Tyrell did much to keep them appeased with the status quo.
"I expect you to conduct yourself as a proper Lannister," Tywin said. "The nobles and the rabble believe that you're a worshiper of that foreign religion. Taking an adherent to the Faith of the Seven as your wife will do much to dispel that. Lord Mace of House Tyrell has sisters whom you may wed."
"Wait, aren't we heading to Oldtown?"
"Yes, but a match is unlikely to be found in Oldtown. Lord Leyton of House Hightower prefers his children be wooed to marriage rather than be arranged. An unambitious lot, but it would not do to ignore them. They have much influence with the Faith of the Seven and the Order of the Maesters."
"The Starry Sept and the Citadel." I had almost forgotten they were located in Oldtown. The former used to be the seat of the High Septon and while it didn't carry as much importance anymore, it was still a cultural and religious landmark that held a good deal amount of power. The latter was the headquarters of the Maesters. It wouldn't be wrong to say that the Citadel was the biggest and most guarded library in Westeros with not even the King of the Seven Kingdoms being allowed further than the receptionist's desk. Or at least, that was how the books described both locations. I imagined that a King would get further than that.
"We will attend a prayer at the Starry Sept. You must act pious for the entirety of our stay at Oldtown."
I absentmindedly nodded my head. Arranged marriages. They were a pain and inevitable. It wasn't like I really believed in the notion of love or anything; I was more of a proponent of compatibility. The more you know and get along with someone, the more comfortable you would be with living your life with them. It wasn't the most glamorous like what romance movies would have you believe, but this was more in touch with my sense of reality. I was a realist; that was a fact. I wasn't comfortable with an arranged marriage because it was a forced option without much of a choice. That kind of thing usually started a negative relationship modifier, requiring numerous flags just to reach the starting point. Otherwise, they would secretly plot against you like that two-faced girl down in Dorne. Why a negative modifier? It was because of a lack of choice.
Even if your choice in spouse was horrible, it would still be your choice and acceptable therefore. You made your choice and you had to live in your mess.
Back in Japan, I had decided to be a househusband. At that time, I didn't know if I would be able to get a wife, considering how I looked even though the rest of my stats were above average. There was even a time I thought about ordering a mail-order Japanese bride from Brazil. Of course, I quickly put an end to that train of thought.
Of course.
It was that naive belief in choice despite it being the medieval age that led to princesses all over Westeros fleeing an arranged marriage and falling into the hands of deprived bandits to create situations that have been depicted in doujins. Okay, no, not really, though there were horror stories about that kind of thing happening, probably to dissuade those same kind of princesses from doing the same thing.
Point of the matter was that Tywin was dead-set on arranging a marriage for me and siblings. The only way out of that was to run away, and I was—thankfully—not stupid enough to do that.
Staring out at the endless blue waves, I sighed.
I would just have to deal with it.
~o~
A/N: Half the chapter is exposition!
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone