AN :
Even though we didn't hit the goal, I've decided to share this chapter with you anyway—just this once.
Enjoy it while it lasts!
Next goal: Top 25.
Keep the power stones coming, we're almost there!
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.
...
( Jaime Lannister POV )
In comparison to his somewhat troublesome sister, his bookish and reclusive middle brother, and his deformed and put-upon youngest brother Tyrion, Jaime Lannister was the darling of Casterly Rock.
He was charming and quick-witted, baby-faced and cheerful, pious and generous, and proving quickly that he was a true talent with the sword. In short, he was everything that a young noble boy ought to be, and shaping up to be the golden child of House Lannister.
Whenever he passed by the servants would give him bright smiles. Lord Tywin's heir seemed to be in every way the ideal child, and he basked in that attention. Wherever he went he was like a ray of sunshine, from the kennels to the kitchens, and from the yard to the stables, everyone knew the bright young boy who would spend his afternoons exploring the castle and having grand adventures. (Never mind that sometimes it was actually Cersei doing it.)
Yes, Jaime had indeed grown into the golden boy of Casterly Rock, and he adored it.
But he wanted more.
It wasn't like he disliked anyone here. No, he loved sitting and playing with Little Tyrion, having dinner with Uncle Kevan, and listening to Maester Eomund talk about the various wars and battles his father and ancestors had fought. He loved little Callum (when he was actually down from his tower), and certainly he loved his sister most of all, but he still wanted more.
At his age, Uncle Tygett was already fighting in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. In comparison, he wasn't even a squire yet. Everyone, Ser Loric, Uncle Kevan, and even his father, they all told him he was so good with a sword and yet he had no chance to prove it. There was no Maelys the Monstrous running about in the Stepstones, no great evil to go ride out and slay as Septon Marlo taught was a knight's duty.
There was just Jaime, playing about in Casterly Rock like his grandfather's lions in the dungeons, sitting in their cages, doing nothing despite their strength. Jaime did not like it. He did not like it at all. He wanted to go out, wanted to ride, wanted to join Uncle Kevan and Aunt Genna when they went hunting. He wanted to go to tourneys and participate in the squire's events. He wanted to hear the blare of trumpets and ride to battle against a worthy foe like a hero of legend, to distinguish himself and bring honor to his name.
In his mind he could see himself in the armor of Ser Barristan Selmy, the greatest knight in the world, riding lance to lance against the two-headed monstrosity that was the last of the Blackfyres.
But he was too young yet for such heroic dreams, all he could do was sharpen his blade in the yard, grow in strength and valor in heroism, and someday that would be him. A true knight of the Seven, a champion of the Warrior, and a hero to all men.
'But how long will I have to wait?' Jaime kicked a rock across the courtyard as he got back into position to continue his drills. The wooden arming sword felt good in his hands, but he wanted to feel the weight of real steel more often. To fight as his father and uncles had.
"Swinging a bit hard there Jaime."
He blinked, glancing up as Ser Loric entered the yard.
"Something on your mind?"
"Ser Loric!" Jaime stopped his drill immediately. "Ah, no, I'm just imagining fighting with the real thing."
"Steels not much different than wood for weight. It's the balance that will change." The arms master of the rock said casually. "Actually, it's good that you're here." The man snapped his fingers. "Callum, come here lad."
Jaime blinked. He'd known Callum had started training in the yard a bit when his own schedule with Ser Loric had changed to accommodate it, but he hadn't actually seen him training. Cersei typically dragged him off to go explore around the time that Callum was having his lessons in the afternoon. She hadn't been by today though, actually, she'd been acting strange since yesterday, though that wasn't too much of a cause for concern, Cersei was just odd sometimes.
"I'm here- ah, hello Jaime!" his younger brother greeted, dressed in simple leather yard clothes, which betrayed the obvious lack of muscle and slenderness of his brother's form. He held a wooden shortsword as he glanced around, his eyes scanning the courtyard as ever. "Will I be sparring with Jaime today?" He asked Ser Loric, who nodded.
"Aye, he'll be a good benchmark to measure where you're at." The knight said, directing them both to the middle of the yard.
"Sorry in advance for the bruises Callum." Jaime gave his brother a cocky grin. "I hope you don't go back to hiding away in your tower after this."
Callum, for his part, rolled his eyes, before shooting Jaime back a nervous smile. "Do uh, go easy on me. I've only started recently." the boy scratched the back of his neck, pulling his long hair behind his head, before taking up a fairly standard one-handed blade position, putting his feet one behind the other but slightly off, Jaime saw that it was technically correct but somewhat unsteady.
Yes, his brother was definitely still new at this… still, he kind of wanted to cut loose. He could never have a good fight with Cersei, for fear of putting bruises on each other that couldn't be explained later, but with Callum, he could fight properly.
"Begin!" Ser Loric said, stepping back from them, and Jaime seized the opportunity to rush forward. There was a moment of surprise on Callum's face, but, to his credit, Jaime's younger brother stepped back, eyes narrowing, and managed to push his first thrust to the side, sliding his shortsword up the side of Jaime's longsword until it locked against his hilt, keeping their blade together.
Jaime realized that he had perhaps overcommitted slightly when Callum's other hand came in for a punch, one that Jaime had to backpedal quickly to avoid.
"Don't be so overconfident Jaime." Ser Loric added from the sidelines, as Callum's eyes were sharp now, and careful. His footwork was lacking in grace and confidence, and his arms were slow and thin, but he had nearly got Jaime there, just because he'd gone for a big driving thrust in against an opponent with a shorter weapon who could exploit that. It had been stupid, and exactly what he'd been taught not to do.
Jaime grimaced and corrected himself. If Callum was using a shortsword then he needed to use his longsword to his advantage. His brother wouldn't be able to block his strikes effectively with something like that.
He stepped back, brought his blade above his head in a ready position, and stepped forward again, slowly, more carefully, his eyes fixed on Callum's movements. Jaime tried to maneuver to just the right foot or so of distance where the tip of his longsword would be able to hit Callum and Callum wasn't able to strike back. Callum on the other hadn't kept stepping backward and to the side in a loose circle, keeping Jaime just outside of striking distance.
But now that he wasn't trying to win quickly, Jaime had seen it all before.
He ducked in low and brought his longsword around in a huge horizontal sweep at about waist height, actually putting himself within Callum's reach to do it, but it didn't matter, because Callum had no chance of blocking it. Oh, he got his shortsword over in time, no doubt, but his brother had neither the muscle power nor the weapon weight to deflect his blow. Callum's guard was crushed aside sending the weapon spinning from his hand as the wooden sword smashed into Callum's side, sending the boy crumpling to the floor gasping in pain as his padded clothing only moderately dulled the savage blow.
Jaime grinned savagely at the victory, and Ser Loric instantly called "enough", putting an end to the spar as Callum gasped for air. "Well done Jaime." Ser Loric praised him. Jaime basked in it, even as he walked over to his brother, setting his own sword to the side.
"Good fight," Jaime said, honestly impressed that his brother had nearly managed to punch him in the first exchange. "You nearly got me in the nose there on the first clash."
"Huah… not as hard as you just hit me." Callum groaned out in a raspy voice, clinging to his side with his left hand even as he let Jaime help him up with his right. "Oww…"
"A few bruises are to be expected in a spar." Jaime laughed, "Surely you've learned that by now?"
"Ser Loric softens his hits when he whacks me," Callum grumbled, before sighing and shaking his head. "It was a good fight though Jaime, you're as talented as everyone says you are."
Jaime felt a big smile cross his face at his brother's words, grinning ear to ear. "Well, you'll get there eventually." He said cheekily. "Of course, by then I'll be better, I'm older after all."
"I'm sure you will Jaime." Callum nodded, and Jaime paused, his smile fading a bit. "I think you'll probably be one of the best knights in all the realm," Callum said, and Jaime couldn't help but notice that though he sounded honest, there wasn't much enthusiasm in his words.
"You don't sound very excited by that," Jaime said. "Don't you want to be a knight?" he tilted his head.
"Eh…" Callum replied unenthusiastically once again. "I will become a knight but just because it's expected of me. For you, being a wonderful knight is your dream, but it's not for me."
Jaime snorted. "You sound like Cersei talking about embroidery!" he said somewhat accusatorily. "Doesn't everyone want to be a knight?" Cersei certainly did. She complained endlessly that Jaime would get to go off and have adventures while she just had to sit around a castle married to some rude man. Jaime thought that maybe someday once he was a knight he'd run off on an adventure and take her with him since she was good enough with a sword.
"Jaime…" Callum said, "Not everyone thinks the same way you do. I want to develop the Westerlands, I want to build things and lead people and improve the lives of everyone in the Westerlands and the world." his younger brother gave him a small smile. "I don't have to be a knight for any of that, I just need to be a knight to make father happy."
Jaime blinked, for a moment he thought he was looking at Cersei, talking about how her embroidery lessons were stupid. He felt a chuckle form in his throat as he pushed Callum away, laughing.
"Whoa-" Callum stumbled, but caught himself, "What was that for?"
"You're just like Cersei is." Jaime laughed, grinning. Callum was only taking his lessons to keep Father happy just like she was only taking her own for the same reason. Jaime couldn't help but laugh. Maybe if he told Cersei she'd start swapping places with Callum instead of him!
"Wh-hey what does that mean?" His little brother asked him, but Jaime wasn't telling, walking away from the courtyard and leaving Callum to his lessons. He had to go find Cersei. She'd think this was hysterical.
...
Chronicle of the Targaryen Dynasty in the Seven Kingdoms
Maester Willem
276 AC- Fourth Moon
Invitations are sent out to all major noble houses of Westeros to attend the tournament at King's Landing to be held at the mid-year festival.
Prizes are to be set at 500 gold dragons for the winner, 300 for second place, and 100 for third, fourth, and fifth place in the jousts, melee, and the horse race.
Additionally, a squire's tourney is to be held alongside it, with the two tourneys broken up as "The King's Tourney" and "The Prince's Tourney" respectively in honor of Prince Viserys' birth. The Prince's Tourney will use blunted weapons and be for boys aged ten to fifteen.
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