Getting to know the rest of the Lannisters family that the show either forgot to introduce or merely didn't seem to care about fleshing out was really nice.
I was speaking of Tywin's siblings, of course.
Kevan Lannister was the second son of late Lord Tytos Lannister, and the most devoted to his elder brother.
Recognizing the competency of Tywin at an early age, he did his best to realize his brother's wishes, though this meant perpetually (and voluntarily) living in his shadow.
Although knighted by Lord Reyne during the War of the Ninepenny Kings, despite being a household knight and not a lord, Kevan's strategic thinking, significant retinue, and personal wealth has made him a man of significant standing.
Well traveled since his sixteenth name day, like all of his brothers, Kevan visited the Free Cities on his coming of age tour.
He had four children with his wife, Dorna Swyft: Lancel (the one that would become Robert Baratheon's squire thanks to Cersei recommendation), twin boys Martyn and Willem, and a daughter named Janei.
I had plans to introduce Lancel to my inner circle of friends, who was just a year older than me but a head shorter, while teaching him to not become the arrogant person he would've naturally become.
But his siblings were either still too young to be of any use to me or weren't even born yet, so I mainly focused on Lancel.
Speaking of Tyget Lannister…
The third son of Tytos, was a man of considerable prowess in battle.
Contrary to Kevan, he had a stormy relationship with his eldest brother, always feeling he was living in his shadow.
But the old Lion didn't actually want to have him feel that way.
As Hand of the King, Tywin once tried to name Tygett as the master-at-arms at the Red Keep, but the Mad King instead chose Ser Willem Darry.
Married to Darlessa Marbrand, with whom he had one son, Tyrek, who was born in the same year as Lann and Joanna.
It was said that Jaime fought like Tygett but behaved like Kevan.
Tygett Lannister would've died of pox, if I wasn't around messing with the canon.
I believe he will be more than willing, and competent enough, to aid me with training and leading my Legion.
Gerion was the fourth son of Tytos, and the one that most resembled him with his recklessness, being a man quick to laugh and with a gift for making others laugh.
Both Tyrion and Jaime regarded him as their favorite uncle.
Like his brothers, Kevan and Tygett, Gerion was overshadowed by their older brother, Tywin.
While Kevan built up a life at Tywin's side, and Tygett tried to be independent, Gerion mocked this "game" and made jokes.
Gerion once gifted Tyrion on his name day with the books Wonders and Wonders Made by Man by Lomas Longstrider, and often had him recite the sixteen wonders of the world.
He also taught Tyrion some tumbling tricks when he was six or seven, and praised his skills until Tywin prohibited him to behave like that.
This gave me the idea of leading Tyrion more into the path of the rogue.
In fantasy, dwarfs are most frequently displayed as mighty warriors and skilled blacksmiths. I personally believed that someone like Tyrion would be a perfect fit for the roguish archetypes.
Perhaps even succeeding as a bard and storyteller.
In 288 AC (last year), Gerion had a bastard daughter named Joy Hill, whose mother was a common woman named Briony.
Needless to say that I would have them grow fonder of me through Gerion.
Circa 291 AC, after the Greyjoy Rebellion, Gerion would go on a quest to find House Lannister's ancestral Valyrian steel greatsword, Brightroar, and any other treasures that might have survived the Doom of Valyria.
A decade would pass after his ship, the Laughing Lion, left Lannisport, and Gerion would not have returned.
Tywin would even send men to look for his lost brother and traced him as far as Volantis, where half his crew had deserted him because of his intent to sail into the Smoking Sea. Forcing him to buy slaves to replace them.
But if Tywin succeeds in acquiring Red Rain for his house, perhaps Gerion would be more easily convinced of postponing his risky adventure.
Then again, the proud Tygett might instead want to do it.
However, having Gerion guide me with better ways to build a fleet would be an acceptable substitute for not having Stannis the Mannis.
You see, the main theme among the older generation of Lannister was simple.
Tygett tried to be his own man, but he could never match Tywin, and that just made him angrier as the years went by.
Gerion made japes. Better to mock the game than to play and lose.
But Kevan saw how things stood early on, so he made himself a place by Tywin's side.
Oh, that conclusion was also made by Genna Lannister, the third child (and only daughter) of Tytos, who was also living at Casterly Rock.
Wed to Ser Emmon Frey, with whom she had four children: Cleos, Lyonel, Tion, and Walder Frey.
She had even briefly taken on a maternal role for Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion after the death of their mother, Lady Joanna Lannister.
The few words I was capable of exchanging with her led me to consider her a very intelligent and shrewd, loving yet sarcastic woman.
She bossed around her husband, Ser Emmon Frey, whom she clearly considered inept.
Her personality was such that she would be able to claim a place in Jaime's war council without opposition, which was obviously uncommon for a woman.
And probably understood that having her eldest son serving me, the Crown Prince, would elevate their overall standing on the Frey family as a whole.
And gods forbid, a tragedy falls over the Freys with a better claim of Lordship over the Twins, it's always good to have some support to help out.
Although Genna did not approve of all Tywin did, nor enjoyed the company of the man he later became, Genna loved her brother for having been the only person to speak out against her betrothal, who even she deemed as unworthy of her.
But when Genna told Tywin that his youngest son, Tyrion, a dwarf he strongly disliked and blamed for Joanna's death, resembled him the most, Tywin grew so angry he refused to speak to Genna for half a year.
All in all, it was actually more welcoming than the family I had at the capital.
Safe for my half siblings and childhood friends, of course.
I already missed them.
—————————————————————
Introducing, or at least reinforcing, concepts into the fantasy equivalent of the Middle Ages would prove to be somewhat challenging.
When discussing the technological progress of his world, George R. R. Martin stated that "…the unpredictable nature of the seasonal changes and the harshness of the winters must play a role. I do think that magic perhaps makes development of the scientific method less likely. If men can fly by means of a spell, do you ever get the Wright Brothers (Santos-Dumont)? Or even daVinci? An interesting question, and I'm not sure I know the answer."
Well, the seasons have changed since my arrival. And magic hasn't been a thing for centuries.
The Maesters, an order of scholars, healers, messengers, and scientists, educate new students at their "seat", the Citadel, which is located in Oldtown, a city in the Reach.
Sometimes called "the knights of the mind", boys and young men from all over Westeros approached them to study, learn, and forge their chains at the Citadel.
Novices (students who have yet to earn their first link) and acolytes (students who have earned at least one link of their chain) are educated together in similar fashion to the apprentices and acolytes of the Alchemist guild.
Archmaesters gave open lectures, which the students could attend at will, since they had the freedom to pursue whatever field they wanted to.
Once a student believes he has sufficient knowledge on a particular subject, he can go before an archmaester to demonstrate his knowledge. And If the Archmaester judges the student's knowledge to be proficient, he awards him with a link of a metal reflecting the topic.
The likes of Qyburn comments that it is merely a reproduction of knowledge, nothing new is discovered.
Once a student has earned sufficient links, he can forge his chain and take his maester's vow, after which the Citadel might relocate him. Serving at a castle advising lords on the operation of their households and lands.
Some lords trust their maesters to open and read letters and to convey their contents to them, while other lords prefer to do so for themselves.
Maesters could also be tasked with writing letters for their lords as well, and might be trusted to read and write the letters of those lords who are illiterate.
They were in charge of the ravens used as messengers.
Which made me paranoid of sending letters with sėnsɨtɨvė information.
Maesters ȧssisted in childbirth, treat illnesses, and teach children arithmetic, language, and history.
They were basically everywhere worthy of their services.
Sadly, I don't believe it would be wise to trust them to serve me even after I present myself capable of performing magic.
I am a strong believer that the Maesters, perhaps alongside other factions like the Faceless Men, had been seeking to get rid of magic and rule the world through logic alone.
I didn't blame them, but neither did I count on the possibility of convincing them to change their mind.
For that instance, I will shape my Alchemists as the next coming of the Maesters (regardless if they came before).
But currently, my Wisdoms aren't capable of competing, much less replacing the order of Maesters, so I would have another faction aiding them on this mission.
And that will be the Faith of the Seven.
Just hear me out first…
The Great Sept of Baelor, the large sept of the Faith of the Seven atop Visenya's Hill in King's Landing, was a preeminent center of religious education in the realm.
Even in my previous world, faith has had an historical contribution to the spread of knowledge, even if it was used as a bargaining chip to secure more devotees.
Regardless of that, everyone that read the books or watched the TV series knows that religions in Planetos seem to actually have some real supernatural powers.
The Old Gods have wargs and greenseers, R'hllor has fortune telling priests and deadly shadow babies, the Drowned God seems to be all about the dead coming back to life.
But what about the Seven?
So far, these New Gods have yet to show that they have any real power at all.
The Warrior's Sons were said to have been holy men, ascetics, sorcerers, dragon slayers and demon hunters.
Through being anointed a Knight and Cleric I've acquired titles that gave me actual powers to deal radiant damage and influence the dead.
This makes me wonder if anyone anointed by me would have similar boons.
In any case, I just needed to subtly introduce the idea of magic being a gift and a blessing from the Gods, or at least come to accept and worship the sort of magic I was capable of performing.
This should prevent people from labeling me as a cursed individual wielding blasphemous powers, instead I would be the next coming of Baelor the Blessed, performing miracles and supporting the faith.
Now, for the actual improvement I was considering bringing.
Already known concepts like metal and glass working or agricultural techniques could be improved to become more effective with simple alterations.
This would imply achieving better quality, less time and costs.
Not to mention, the Westerlands were no stranger to metallurgy and its southern portion had the fertile soil of the Reach.
Windmills and waterwheels weren't that much of an oddity in the most populous and wealthy areas like the Reach or the Riverlands, so I could use and abuse them.
Dyes, perfumes, soaps, oil lanterns, mirrors and glasses could be more commonly found in the Free Cities of Essos. Which thankfully had its noticeable presence in Lannisport's docks and market as well.
Masonry allowed space for bridge building at the level of the Twins, road making that was more primitive than the one made by the Valyrians dragonlords and mining/tunnelling that deployed an extensive tunnel and drain system deep underground, seen in both King's Landing and Casterly Rock.
That would be key to achieve the same level of ingenuity the Romans had employed through roads, aqueducts, arches to build structures, development of concrete, hypocaust system, plumbing and sanitary management.
In Westeros, medical treatments were most frequently given by the maesters of the Citadel, which were actually more advanced than real-life medieval medical knowledge.
And even local healers, midwives, hedge wizards, or wood witches served the purpose of treating the smallfolk.
Through my studies, I've come to learn that the healing arts included potions capable of dulling the pain (e.g., milk of the poppy or dreamwine) and potions that either prevented pregnancy or induced abortions (e.g., moon tea).
Though there wasn't any medicine that didn't have some sort of side effects like propensity to addiction or long term health issues.
Wounds were often cleaned with boiling wine or treated with Myrish fire or firemilk, while maggots might be used to eat out rotten parts. Maesters have also learned to stitch wounds close and how to use poultices to prevent infection.
To that I have my alchemists working with one sample of my Healing potion. Last I checked on them, they were near cracking down the exact recipe used to make it.
Even if my Alchemists learned to mass produce a version that merely healed a quarter of my health bar, I would definitely call it an astounding success.
Interestingly enough, Shade of the evening (also called "the wine of warlocks") was a noticeable ingredient of it.
Which I had already deducted would be the case for the Mana restoring potion in my possession.
Since getting my hands on such a magical ingredient would be easier said than done, I still had my eyes set on securing the Mana-refueling infusion first.
Back to science and technology.
Even Astronomy wasn't such a far fetched topic.
Myrish eyes mounted on tripods were used to observe the stars. At some locations, dedicated observatories could be found (e.g., at Winterfell).
The Maesters of the Citadel must've compiled several maps of the starry sky for their research and studies, especially since their knowledge would be useful in navigation at the open sea.
The names of constellations could differ between cultural groups. For example, the constellation known by the people of the Seven Kingdoms as the King's Crown was called the Cradle by the free folk living north of the Wall, while they called the Stallion the Horned Lord.
I personally had reservations about adventuring the seas and the skies with my Game System constantly mentioning extraplanar creatures.
But being prepared was always preferable.
Overall, Westeros had a deep mythic and historic legacy recounted in song, story, and literature.
Not only do these tales recount the epics of legendary heroes and romances, but they also retell romanticised history and fables of fantastic creatures.
And to my surprise, books, scrolls, parchment, and paper are of common use. Though not anywhere near the level modern society used to in my previous life.
In this world, no recorded society has ever made mention of printing presses, or even woodblock printing.
Which opened up space for an opportunity to be explored.
Bard, one of my aliases, had already made a good impression as a storyteller and artist, so through him I would be safe to spread some of my previous life's successful hits without major repercussions to my image.
On the other hand, several numerous units of measurement have been recorded. The Westerosi measurement units were mostly non-metric, growing out of customary use and not abstract principles.
The Seven Kingdoms seemed to have a uniform system of weights and measures though.
There were several basic units of measurement that were in usage: length, weight, area, volume and time.
Additionally, some units of measurements commonly used were admittedly more archaic in their usage, e.g. the term "stone" to indicate weight and the term "league" to indicate distance.
If I was allowed to have my way, I would certainly attempt to introduce the metric system while also labeling it as Imperial units.
For currency, coins were the manner used most frequently, especially by merchants, owners of establishments, and the noble classes. Smallfolk mostly made use of copper coins or simply barter.
Thus far, no society in Westeros or Essos has been recorded as using paper currency, which also gave space to opportunity.
Most societies use currency in the form of coins made from precious metals such as gold, silver, or copper (with a few notable exceptions, such as the iron coins used in Braavos).
Contracts written on parchment or paper could also be accepted, though these were not "currency" as such: for example, when the Brotherhood without Banners during the War of the Five Kings gave commoners notes promising to pay them for supplies they took after the war ended.
An idea I certainly could make use of for my Legion.
Similarly, in the books, Tyrion drew up contracts promising to pay the Second Sons with gold from Casterly Rock in return for their aid in restoring him to his lordship.
Which was much more effective if the one signing contracts had a long and respectable reputation of paying their debts.
This was something Bronn didn't understand.
—————————————————————
Besides the Lannisters of Lannisport, other distant kin living in the city were Lannys, Lannetts, and Lantells, many of whom had blond hair.
Though none were anything more than small merchant families.
As for the ancient branch of House Lannister of Casterly Rock, I've met another inconsistency with the main source material.
For the most part, House Lannister of Lannisport had bȧrėly been differentiated other than their speculated origin.
But what was stranger to me was that a segment of House Lannister was now ruling Lannisport.
Ser Stafford Lannister should be a knight of House Lannister, good-brother to the Warden of the West as his sister, Lady Joanna, married their cousin, Lord Tywin Lannister.
But somehow, he was now the Lord of Lannisport.
Don't get me wrong, between Jon Arryn having a daughter before his engagement with Lyssa Tully and Jaime Lannister rescuing Rhaenys Targaryan, this could easily be mistaken as an unimportant footnote.
In any way, since Winter had finally come, I had my plans restricted to at least visiting Lannisport.
So having someone like Lord Stafford openly welcoming me to his city was a good start.
With Winters being harsher than they had ever been, most Lords were too busy to properly do my bidding.
The same could be said for Lord Stafford, but the man at least had the courtesy of ȧssigning his son to guide me around town.
"My prince…" The young man bowed to me and acknowledged my companions as I entered his residence, having Tyrion and Sandor following me as my undead Knight pretended to be a simple Lannister guard. "It's an honor to have you here."
As Sandor rolled his eyes in annoyance and Tyrion gave out a smirk, I thanked the young noble's hospitality. "I'm thankful for the welcoming, and please, call me Durrandon."
"Aye, will do." Daven rose up, his height around two heads higher than mine.
He had sixteen years, lively hazel eyes, a pug nose, yellow hair, and a big chin.
"So, you've come to get a tour out of my father's city?" He spoke casually, almost making an one-eighty, without sounding disrespectful.
"Indeed. If it's not a bother, I would very much appreciate a proper tour of it. Besides, I've been wondering about how different the market here would be to the one at King's Landing." I replied, thinking about what could actually be done in such a casual visit as the temperature continued to fall.
"Sure thing, Durrandon." The son of Lord Stafford replied. "My father has reserved a carriage to help us out with that endeavor. I'm sure we aren't as big as the capital city, but I can guarantee you that we compensate with quality."
"Oh, then you also have a Blacksmith capable of reworking Valyrian Steel, excellent." I remarked jokingly, testing Daven's personality as Tyrion gave out an amused look.
"Well… heh, ok, I don't think we have one, last time I checked at least." Daven chuckled before leading us outside. "This way please."
As Sandor and Tyrion followed me, I continued to interact with Daven.
The young man was blunt and outspoken, but also very jovial.
And, if my memory wasn't betraying me, he was also actually competent enough in combat.
While he presented to me most of the noteworthy places around Lannisport that I hadn't properly spotted during my arrival, we shared a few stories of our backgrounds.
Daven already knew I've come to become Lord Tywin's ward, but was actually surprised to hear that I've personally requested for that to be the case.
"With all due respect, why didn't you choose the Kingdom your own father hailed from?" He was intrigued.
"I've got just as much appreciation for my mother's kingdom of origin." Since Daven was a Lion of pride instead of pragmatism, I opted for telling him about my respect for the Westerland culture while making subtle references of recruiting a small group of warriors to serve under my name as well as pointing out that I've begun my martial training since my fourth nameday.
"The legendary Barristan of the Kingsguard had taught you how to fight?!" Daven almost shouted in shock. "That's really unbelievable… not that I'm doubting you."
"Don't worry, sometimes, even I don't believe in the amount of luck I've had." I told him with a friendly smile.
"Care to show me if luck was all that was involved with it?" Daven asked, clearly challenging a six years old for a spar.
Before Sandor could grunt and attempt to intimidate the young man, I preemptively raised my hand to stop him while Tyrion remained too amused to say anything.
"I- I meant no disrespect, of course." Daven appologized, recalling that my height and size hid really well my age.
"Don't worry. There's no harm with a friendly spar from time to time. Besides, training with only one partner embeds my errors and makes me unfit to adapt." I replied to the young noble of Lannisport. "I've been meaning to ask how capable you were in combat. Guess I will be getting my answer first hand."
"Aye, you certainly will, dear nephew." Tyrion chuckled, surprised to not be busy thinking about whores and wine since his arrival. "Just when I was thinking you and I were so much alike, you had to act like your uncle Jaime would."
Sandor remained silent, still not comfortable speaking his mind, though for some reason he became curious about the silent Lannister guard that has remained just as silent as him.
Had to keep it around in order to keep it in check.
My Zombie Knight was not as tall as the Hound, but I would wager that he could match (if not surpass) Sandor's strength since his monster stats didn't translate equally to regular people.
Interestingly enough, the two of them had in common a weakness to fire.
It's not like I was required to be shielded by these two to fend for myself, being capable of killing them before they could even react, but it helped sell the illusion of me being a mere talented and smart young prince.
Having gotten a better understanding of the city's layout for coming back alone, I requested that we return to his family's residence and begin that sparr we've decided previously.
And so he complied.
To the surprise of none, I was capable of matching Daven's skill with a dulled weapon, as I respected the recommendation of the master-at-arms.
Limiting myself to simply deflecting his strikes, while eventually delivering some casual return thrusts following a parry.
Who would've guessed, after several battles in underground dungeons against hordes of undeads, sparring with someone ten years older than me would be considered as a social interaction.
Make no mistake, I could still be killed by regular foes, it would just take a little longer with my health bar being twice as large as when I began killing criminals during my Night Raids.
Not to mention skills like Health regeneration and Damage resistance, or the armor I had personally crafted alongside my Abjuration spells.
Proof that I wasn't neglecting my safety was that I had finally taken the time to practice with a proper shield.
Sure, it was the iconic Buckler shield since my size currently didn't favor larger ones, but I was just beginning to grind that skill.
Back to the sparring match on the training yard.
I didn't want to freak Daven out, so I kept leveraging my mobility in order to dominate the duel.
"You seem a little tired." I teased him while dodging one of his best strikes before circling around him and touching his back with the tip of my blunt sword. "And dead."
Daven chuckled and raised his arms in defeat. "Aye, my prince. I surrender."
"Well done, nephew." Tyrion congratulated me with a supportive smile while Sandor had an expression of surprise. "The Bravossi clearly wasn't lying about what a great student you are."
"Thanks, uncle." I replied before turning to my opponent. "Don't worry too much about it. Seldomly will you find an agile opponent with a small frame like mine."
"You speak the truth." Daven acknowledged, taking out his training gear before clearing the sweat out of his forehead. "Though in all honesty, I did start holding back so as not to hurt you, but even after getting serious you kept avoiding my attacks."
Noticing his self doubts I persuaded him. "Keep your head high. You are a pretty skilled fighter, if I wasn't focusing on avoiding your strikes, you might've gotten me earlier than I did after waiting to tire you out. But let's not fool ourselves, the situation would've been much different if I wasn't royalty."
"I'm thankful for your words." Daven nodded truthfully with a genuine smile.
As he noticed his sisters staring at us from a nearby window, he waved at them with a teasing expression.
I've noticed them stalking us since we've returned from our tour around the port city, but as I move to look at them, the two run away.
"Are you alright?" I asked Daven, faking ignorance.
"Yeah, just my sisters." He told me before heading somewhere else.
Cerenna and Myrielle.
Normally, teenage girls wouldn't be blushing over some kid under any circumstance, regardless if he appeared to be a few years older.
But being born as the Crown Prince has granted me a boost in relationship with basically every girl that valued social status.
Which would've been a major problem if I actually cared about genuine love.
The brief peak I had at Daven's sisters allowed me to Observe them.
Honestly, I was not at all surprised that my mother had sent them a letter explaining that if one of them were to grow close to me, she would give her full support for a future match.
Honestly, I'm surprised Cersei never attempted to pull such things during canon with Joffrey, especially since she much rather he didn't marry Margaery.
Sure, Robert dėsɨrėd to have his house bound by blood with the Starks, but regardless of how much I managed to impress him, my Valyrian features were still too much for him to handle.
So I wasn't expecting him to arrange a marriage between me and Sansa.
Stupid I know, but it's the demon of the trident we are talking about.
Having him completely ignore Rhaenys' existence was all but a miracle to me.
In any case, I'll still be spending plenty of time in the Westerlands, so I was in no hurry to rush those kinds of things.
For now, giving the best impression to their brother and make him a follower would suffice.
—————————————————————
Arriving back at Casterly Rock after spending the day roaming Lannisport and bonding with Daven, I met with Tywin to tell him of what I needed him to do for me.
Tyrion followed me until we reached his father's solar, as Sandor and my disguised Zombie Knight stood guard on the door.
I noticed the unhealthy relationship between the Lannisters while the dwarf informed me he had something to do, almost running away from his father's gaze.
Tywin clearly didn't seem to care much about his son's fear of him, but I did.
"You will stop that." I told him as soon as the doors were closed.
The old Lion raised an eyebrow in confusion, but before he could ask anything, I interrupted him.
"This petty vendetta and childish antagonism towards Tyrion." I remarked. "For a man so consumed by the idea of his family, you clearly have no idea how to keep them united. You were lucky that Kevan is loyal and competent enough to fully support you despite you never acknowledging his efforts. But Tygett and Gerion, I would give them less than a decade before they are either dead or leave Westeros to never come back."
"You know noth…Did you… have more visions?" Tywin stopped mid answer before questioning me, immediately remembering that I had claimed to have foreseen the approaching rebellion of House Greyjoy.
"As a matter of fact, I did…several of them." I lied. "Not that I needed a glimpse into the future to tell how unstable your actual family really is."
The old Lannister remained silent, having grown used to not imposing or demanding things from me.
After telling him slightly altered versions of Tygett and Gerion's fates, I returned to the topic of Tyrion. "If you continue to mistreat uncle like that he will either make a move against you or be explored as a weakness by any other rivaling house."
"You expect me to simply forget and forgive everything he has done to my family?" Tywin argued back, holding back his tongue just enough to not outright insult me.
"Like what? Being born?" I retorted. "I believe you are intelligent enough to recognize that stillborns and miscarriages aren't that much of a rare occurrence. Half of those cases pretty much result in the death of the mother as well."
"Even so…" He tried to argue, but I stopped him by summoning Shadow over his desk, her intense gaze seemed to perfectly translate my warning.
"What's the matter then? Do you feel too ashamed that he's a dwarf? Does it seem he had a choice on it?" I remarked. "Do you believe your wife would be happy with the way you've been treating the son she had given her life for?"
I allowed him this time to speak, wanting to have him mind my words while also telling me what was stopping him from behaving like an actual father.
"And what has he done with that life she had sacrificed?" Tywin finally showed signs of anger. "Wasting his time laughing, whoring and marrying peasants."
"Interesting you brought those topics up. You do remember I know more than I have any right to, don't you?" I smirked at him. "I know about the incident where you all but have ordered the **** of your daughter-in-law. I know about a hidden tunnel leading to a brothel built by a certain Hand of the King on King's Landing. And I know about your differences with your own father."
I made a small pause to let the information I just gave him sink in. And by his shocked expression it seems I've hit the bullseye on each answer.
My plan was to make it so obvious that he and Tyrion had so much in common, that any suspicion of him being a bastard son of Aerys (which my system confirmed to me he wasn't) would simply be dismissed as too improbable.
"Look, I'm not expecting you to become the most considerate father all of a sudden. I've already told you that I will release Jaime from his Kingsguard vows, so you won't have to worry about Tyrion claiming Casterly Rock as rightfully his. Just make up your mind." I said. "Send him to the Citadel and have him study to become a Maester or immediately start to shape him to become the man he was always meant to be. And with luck, he might serve Jaime just as well as Kevan is serving you."
As the old Lion remained silent, overwhelmed by his thoughts, I called Shadow back and made a move to leave earlier than I had planned.
Deciding it was better to give him all the time to properly digest everything I had just dropped on top of him.
"If you are simply not capable of making this sacrifice for your own family and nourishing such a valuable ȧsset, just get rid of him and make it appear to be an accident." I said placing a hand on the doors. "Or better yet, hand him to me."
Leaving the chamber, I wasn't sure if Tywin would swallow his pride and make the right choice. But either way, I would have one less thing to worry about.
Though I've got to stop having these sort of intense meetings with him.
Watching him obediently hear what I gotta say is slowly chipping away the image I had of him in my head.
That wasn't good.
My respect was basically the only thing preventing me from having him punished for his crimes and going out of my way to have him on my side.
But that's a problem for another time.
As Sandor and my Zombie Knight followed me in silence, I met the Lannisters I've been looking for.
…
"You want me to do what?" Tygett questioned my previous invitation to aid me with building my Legion.
"You heard me, I've been meaning to recruit a small group of capable men that would serve as my personal guard. Perhaps one day, if the idea is successful enough, I might turn it into the Royal Army."
"Heh, gotta give the boy credit, Ty. He's ambitious and pragmatic. No wonder Tywin accepted to foster him. I mean, other than him being the Crown Prince and all." Gerion smiled amicably while patting on Tygett's back, to his annoyance. "Besides, this might be the chance you've been so desperately seeking."
While the older brother made an irked expression towards the youngest, I spoke out again. "I would also appreciate your aid on this endeavor."
"Wait, me? What can I help you with?" Gerion questioned, despite his surprise the smile never left his face. "I'm not really a soldier, you see."
"Honestly, since wars aren't that common, fighting would be the least of my priorities for now." I remarked before turning my head to face Tygett. "Though not to the point of neglecting it." Facing Gerion again, I continued. "I've heard you are a pretty good sailor. Perhaps you might help me with the principles of building an effective fleet. Though you are entirely free to decline my invitation."
"Heh, it's a neat little trick you do. You move your lips and your grandfather's voice comes out." Gerion chuckled, though this time his smile faltered ever so slightly. "Well, sure. I don't mind helping you out with this idea of yours."
As the two of us turned to face Tygett, he grunted before clearing his throat. "I don't mind it either. I can get you some capable men, but they won't be of much use without proper equipment and supplies. Especially during this bloody winter."
"Don't worry, I've already got uncle Tyrion to help me think about the logistics. And as for the winter, I've heard we have some massive enclosed space under the Rock that's not being used at all."
"It's more like a cavern used to house a small army during times of war in order to garrison the Rock." Tygett informed while scratching his beard. "Though it hasn't been used in centuries for anything other than storage."
"For simple training drills, I believe it will do nicely." I replied back before turning to Gerion. "As for the ship, I have already bought a simple galley during my visit to the city. Would you be so kind as to show me the way of recruiting and commanding a crew?"
"You have but to ask." Gerion nodded with a smile.
"Splendid." Turning to Tygett, still expecting his answer, I got his response.
"I accept."
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To me there were two main types of soldiers.
My full-fledged Legionnaires will be Westerosi citizens, while the Auxiliaries won't (foreign mercenaries and the likes).
Though each will be supplied with their own equipment after swearing an oath of loyalty to me.
A formality for now, but still a necessary one, and an excellent excuse to punish treason accordingly.
Legionnaires will be arranged on an infantry unit as part of a group of eight men, a Contubernium, who all will share sleeping quarters.
And since I was going with the theme of the seven, I would frame it as a rotational leader commanding seven men.
New soldiers with less combat training would be stuck with dirty jobs (like stone breaking, furnace stoking and latrine cleaning), until they secure a specialist post (like surveyor, trumpeter, mason, clerk and huntsman) or join the regular troops.
Ten Contubernium together formed a Century (eighty men each) with its own standard-bearer, commander-of-the-watch, second-in-command and a Centurion to lead them all.
Six Centuries together make up a Cohort (four hundred and eighty men each), and ten cohorts plus a small cavalry unit (of around a hundred and twenty riders), which wouldn't be composed of actual Knights yet, made up the biggest army unit of them all, the Legion.
Which would be less than a fifth of what the Westerlands was capable of mustering (which was around fifty five thousand men) after Tywin called his banners.
Each Cohort in a Legion would be numbered from one to ten, technically seven if I come up with another clever yet simple excuse.
Cohort One will be extra large, with five double centuries (eight hundred instead of four hundred and eighty). Its Centurions will be the senior ranking, First Orders, and the most senior of all will be First Lancer.
The First Lancers can be promoted to become Camp Prefect, in charge of the daily running of the Legion.
Outranking them, will be Seven men (preferably all skilled Knights), while two of them would be the candidate to become a Senator (member of my governing and advisory council) and the commander of the entire Legion.
Overall, the Commander of the Legion will command six thousand troops, which might seem ludicrously high, but is in actuality very low compared to what each Kingdom is capable of mustering.
15,000 for the Crownlands; 35,000-40,000 for the North; 35,000-40,000 for the Riverlands; 35,000-40,000 for the Vale; 50,000-55,000 for the Westerlands; 15,000 for the Iron Islands; 20,000-25,000 for the Stormlands; 20,000-30,000 for Dorne and 120,000 for the Reach.
This totals around 380,000 troops.
Given unknown variables, like Dorne's unknown true strength and the extra potential forces available on Skagos or sellswords, this could be raised for 400,000 for the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms.
And that's only speaking about the military.
The overall population would be somewhat like this…
1.5 million for the Crownlands; 4 million for the North; 4 million for the Riverlands; 4 million for the Vale; 5.5 million for the Westerlands; 1.5 million for the Iron Islands; 2.5 million for the Stormlands; 3 million for Dorne and 12 million for the Reach.
*If the population of the Reach seems disproportionately huge, it's worth remembering that in 1300, the population of France was approximately 17 million compared to 3 million for England. Which makes it kind of incredible that England was able to maintain any possession at all on the continent given the overwhelming French numerical superiority.
Obviously, this whole quality over quantity matter will only work if I make sure that my Royal army only accepts the best of the best while not wasting time or resources on the mediocre ones.
Alongside a thorough understanding of tactics and strategy.
My Army main symbol will be the banner of a Black Lion on a stormy field with well worked ornaments of silver and gold.
Though in the future, as the number of men serving me would continue to grow, I planned to have one specific for each Kingdom's Legion.
Still working on them, but preferably it would not be limited to the symbols from each of the great houses of Westeros.
And yes, I was considering having at least a standing Legion armed with the best of the best from each Kingdom. Mostly to not compromise the overall structure of my army if a few of the Kingdoms rebelled.
Sure, it would be a bitch to face a few disbanded segments of my own creation on a battlefield, but I would take those odds instead of having the entirety of my war machine broken into chaos.
To prepare for the worst case scenario, I've considered that a soldier who has dutifully served my Royal army for 25 years and survived, should receive appropriate rewards, like a small plot of land for him and his heirs, as well as a pension while he remains alive.
Nothing larger than the salary of what they would receive during their time as an active soldier, but much more than a veteran old man could hope to get anywhere else.
These rewards would ensure some semblance of loyalty, while also motivating others to seek acceptance into my forces.
But enough rambling about the future, I not only had the band of men that followed me to Casterly Rock, but also some of the Lannisters to help me achieve my goals for this project.
With luck, by the time the Greyjoys openly revolt, I will have a very well trained Legion ready to gain actual experience in war.
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Since I had yet to come up with a proper idea for an effective naval warfare system and had only a single galley (for now) that I could truly call mine, I relied on others to make do for me.
During times of peace, trade had the advantage of being a less risky investment than it would be amidst war, but the availability of competition made it just as challenging to achieve revenue and profit.
Yet, because money was not a problem to me (even more than others could imagine), I could simply kill two birds with one stone.
By using it as a way of acquiring new skills and experience while also explaining a little of where the money I'll be spending has come from.
Sure, I was Crown Prince and most wouldn't dare to question me about it, but both my parents and the members of the small council (like Varys) could find it weird that I've been making use of a seemingly infinite amount of money without a justifiable origin.
That was another reason for why I chose to become Tywin's ward and reveal to him my secrets.
He knows that I have a massive fortune at my disposal and understands that I will require a valid excuse to not draw too much attention.
The old Lion could be more actively trying to outsmart me, but I wasn't planning on giving him breathing space.
When we first met, I hit him with startling revelations. Now, I have him working nonstop in order to prepare for the Greyjoy Rebellion.
But I digress.
The galley I had requested Gerion to aid me with, which had yet to receive a proper name and crew, will be busy circling around Westeros' shores trading goods and even acting like some sort of pawnshop.
Getting loans in exchange for collateral, which could be anything of value traded for cash.
Though the Crownlands were one of the smallest
territories in the kingdom, my birthplace the capital city, King's Landing, was the largest port city and trade hub in the continent, with merchants and traders from all over the world gathering to buy and sell.
This way I had a more secure way of receiving anything Tobho, Hallyne and Chataya wanted to send me. Be it letters or actual new inventions.
The Crownlands therefore had great wealth
and a great variety of artisans and skilled laborers, despite how outside the capital, the towns and villages of the realm were more agriculturally dependent.
Although I wasn't ready to experiment with Dragonbone, I'm sure uncle Stannis would be willing to trade Dragonglass for supplies.
Especially since he found it to be worthless, not to mention how harsh winters were to the island father gave him to rule.
Located at the center of the continent, the Riverlands had also become a profitable trade hub for the realms of Westeros.
In times of peace, the many rivers and waterways of the territory were used to transport goods between the many neighbouring realms, which would certainly help reduce time on its return to me.
And through my proximity to the Freys, I will have some way of influencing the constructions of new bridges as well.
The Riverlands themselves were able to produce a fair amount of grain from their fertile fields and were also known to produce wine.
The port city of Saltpans often traded with the Free Cities, though it was one of the least populous ports in the continent.
As I've already mentioned countless times, the richest realm of the Seven Kingdoms was without doubt the Westerlands.
Though their lands were quite fertile producing many crops, they were nowhere near as lush as
the Reach or the Vale, it is therefore from the mines of the Westerlands spread throughout their many hills that the realm finds its true wealth.
Gold and silver mines abound in the territory,
with gold mines found at the Golden Tooth, Casterly Rock, Castamere, Nunn's deep and
the Pendrick hills.
Lannisport and Fair Isle also engaged heavily in sea trade and fisheries, with Lannisport as one of
the most active and prosperous harbors in the continent.
Now, on to the Kingdoms I've yet to visit.
The Iron Islands, small rocky lands, devoid of fertile fields and pastures have largely based their economies around fisheries and sea trade,
as well as trading iron ore (which was found in abundance in the mines beneath the islands).
Aside from iron, they also produced tin and lead, yet the work was dangerous and difficult, often left to the lowest levels of society.
Due to that, most have turned to raiding to make up for their lack of resources.
Historians claim it was a lack of timber that originally drove the Ironborn from their homes to
pillage their neighbours and plunder their goods.
The Ironborn found this way of life so profitable they centered all their culture and traditions around raiding.
With their leaders, House Greyjoy, even taking the words 'we do not sow' and preference for the iron price over the golden one as a testament to their raiding ways.
Out of everyone, House Harlaw and House Goodbrother were less attached to the Old Way.
I would really appreciate getting my hands on the blueprints of their longships and some detailed understanding of how they built them so quickly with so little resources.
A stark contrast from the isles of the Ironborn, The Reach was the most fertile territory of Westeros, growing many of the finest fruits and grains in the continent.
They were known for their cultivation of melons, fireplums, peaches, apples, grapes and pumpkins. And were also known for making dry fruity red wines, sweet wines and rich golden vintages such as arbor gold.
Home to the market towns of Ashford and Tumbleton, which do a great deal of inland trading as well.
Without mentioning Old Town, a large port city home of house Hightower and the maesters of the Citadel, known as the oldest city in Westeros.
For this reason, the Tyrell of Highgarden have made their words 'growing strong' to symbolize their territory's wealth of resources.
Suggesting that while others concerned themselves with war, the Reach is concerned with the prosperity of their people.
I'm sure they will be very intrigued once the lands on the Westerlands begin rivaling their productivity, but since their massive population also requires a massive quantity of food, they will have no choice other than to strike a deal.
Now, on to my father's kingdom.
Being one of the poorer realms of Westeros, the Stormlands, with their constant rains and storms
had relatively fertile fields, but their strong martial traditions have allowed for no major cities to develop.
Instead Storm lords build great fortresses such as Storm's end and supply these forts with the labor and harvests of surrounding villages.
Which was almost its downfall when Stannis almost died of hunger while facing siege during Robert's Rebellion.
Though the seas along the territory, especially
around Shipbreaker's bay, were difficult to
navigate thanks to their storms, the port city of Weeping town was able to prosper greatly through the sea of Dorne, trading with many of the Free Cities.
This led me to the biggest reservatory of sand on the continent.
One of the richer territories in the continent, Dorne was home to a number of exotic and highly prized goods sought-after by many in Westeros and the Free Cities.
They are known for their production of lemons,
olives, pomegranates and wine. Producing
Strong wine and Dornish sour Reds.
The southern lands were also known for their
breeding of specialized horses, called Sand Steeds, who are swift and little. It was said they could run for nearly two days straight without tiring.
Not the best material for Warhorses, but excellent for scouts and couriers.
The port city of Planky Town had done very well serving as a trade hub for volantis and many of
the other Free Cities, even seeing trade from the Summer Isles and far east, providing a passage into Westerosi markets.
The territory of the Vale at first glance did not seem like a rich and profitable territory with its vast mountainous ranges and dangerous roving mountain clans, yet upon closer examination the Vale was one of the most fertile territories in Westeros.
Possibly even matching the fertility of territories in the Reach.
It was said wheat, corn, barley, pumpkins and other fruit grew in the Vale in great quantities and of top-quality.
House Waxley of Wickenden was even known to produce exotic scented candles, sometimes scented with nutmeg and other expensive spices.
The port city of Gulltown had grown rich from its strategic location as a trade harbour between the
North, Braavos, the Vale and King's Landing.
And with this great wealth it was no wonder the Vale Lords of years past were able to construct the great fortress of the Eyrie, though the houses
of the Vale and smallfolk benefited greatly from their resources and wealth.
The mountain clans described as descendants from the First Men who refused to bow to Andal Kings suffered greatly refusing to participate in the local economy and thereby surviving off petty theft and raiding.
To me they served only as a way to earn the respect from the Lords of the Vale by having my army one day get rid of them.
Though the North was home to great warriors and honorable Lords, it was undoubtedly one of the poorest territories of Westeros with the snows and cold weather making agricultural production quite difficult.
Yet, they are not completely without resources.
The North was a great provider of timber to the realms of Westeros and beyond, even producing Ironwood, famed for its strength and durability.
Which was a better alternative than incentivizing the cut down of Weirwood trees and risking losing my title as a Druid.
The houses of the North were also known as producers of wool as well as furs and hides.
And the port city of White Harbor was said to sit atop a great number of Silver Mines, as a result the city itself is home to master silversmiths whose work was famed throughout Westeros.
Because of the great wealth of white Harbor House Manderly has become one of the richest families of the North, possibly second only to the
Starks.
Perhaps the only Andal house to prosper in the North would be another interesting partner for my cause.
And it would also help that it wasn't that far away from the Dreadfort.
If Joffrey was capable of convincing an ȧssassin to attack Bran Stark inside Winterfell, I believe I could get someone to get rid of a bastard for me.
Regardless, the lack of roads and vast distances between towns made inland trade difficult, meaning the smallfolk of these lands often live in extreme poverty.
Which was a considerable untapped demand waiting to be satisfied by my growing supplies.
Only sad thing was that I couldn't simply sail around Westeros and sneak into each of the Great Houses' castles for their dungeons.
I mean, of course I could, but without Harrenhal being mine, it wasn't that much of a priority.
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(06/11/2021)
*Hope this chapter is of your liking.
Anything you wish to ask, feel free to do so.
Check out my auxiliary chapter if you still haven't.
Thanks as always for your attention and please be safe.
Any problems with my writing, just point them out and I will correct them as soon as possible.
** Sorry for the constant delays, I've been busy taking care of a family member while studying for my college exams.