Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister (281 AC) (+15 Days)

I had a complicated relationship with the Faith of the Seven. Multiple times a week, I would find myself at Casterly Rock's sept, praying in front of the massive gilded statue of the Father. His stern bearded face looked down upon me as I lit candles and gave a silent prayer. Then, over the next hour, I would rotate to pay my respects to each of the seven in turn, even stopping off to give my respects to the Stranger.

Maybe I should be more devout, knowing that gods exist in this world. I even sometimes wonder if it was the Stranger who saved me from death and brought me here. Unfortunately for any deities looking for my devotion, they would be hard-pressed to earn it.

It was actually one of the few things Tywin and I agreed on. Sure, the image of piety is valuable, and that's why I do this. But if any gods wish for me to bow to them, they better have a compelling reason to. Not just threaten to send me to whatever hell they think qualifies as a suitable punishment.

Though sometimes I agreed with The Lord of Light that this world was the real hell. That maybe it wasn't the Stranger but my past life's God who sent me here for not being properly faithful.

It was odd. In my past life, I was a Catholic. I would mostly use my time at mass fantasizing about cool ways I would become an action movie protagonist if aliens attacked the Earth. It seems like my Christian piety followed me into this life because now I mostly use the time to reflect on the many things going on in Casterly Rock.

I shook my head and decided to focus on other things. I had been having that philosophical debate with myself for years, and I never got any closer to an answer. With a sigh, I looked up, following the seven-sided walls to the large crystal chandelier hanging on the ceiling from its golden chain.

The King would arrive in a couple days.

I had already been forced to greet many notable lords of the Westerlands. Banefort, Broom, Crakehall, Lefford, Prester, and many others had already arrived, and more were close. In fact, I was basically confined to the Rock so the lookouts could notify me of any important arrivals in time. It was important to greet them in person. For many of them, it would be the first time they had seen me with their own eyes.

Sometimes, it felt like all the lords in the Seven Kingdoms were coming to Tywin's funeral, even though I knew that wasn't the case. Most lords of the West would be attending, but only those who wished to curry favor with the Lannisters would be coming from the other kingdoms. Which was admittedly many people.

Fortunately, many of the people of lesser import would be housed by the Lannisters of Lannisport at the aptly named port city. I had wanted this to be a more low-key affair. Still, most of my advisors agreed it would be better for our position to have an extravagant celebration of life to remind the rest of Westeros we are still the wealthiest house in the land. So musicians and mummers had been hired, feasts prepared, and many other entertainers were gathered at both the Rock and the Port.

It was an ironic end for the man who hated laughter.

"I am sorry to disturb you, Milord." A light feminine voice called out from behind me. I turned to see the white-robed woman whom I knew to be Septa Jaida. "But the Silent Sisters have prepared the body of Lord Tywin and must begin setting the altar."

I looked up to see the Stranger's half-human face covered by a deep hooded robe. "My apologies, septa, I seem to have gotten lost in prayer." I acknowledged the devout women and made my way out of the sept. Now that I was done here, I could get more important things done.

~~~

I stood side by side with Ser Kevan and watched as Lord Farman and his retinue made their way up the Lion's Mouth. They were forced to be careful riding up the broad steps because of how wet they were. Recently, it had been getting warmer, and I had heard talk of people believing the year-long winter was ending.

Still, they were upon us soon enough, and I watched as the aging Joran Farman carefully dismounted his horse. I looked into his hardened gray eyes and knew convincing the man would be more difficult than I had imagined. Still, I would think about that later, for now.

"Welcome to my castle, Lord Farman. I am honored by your presence and grateful for your loyalty and service. Please make yourself at home and let me know if there is anything you need."

It was silent as the white-haired man's gaze bore into me, and I couldn't tell what the look on his face meant.

Still, he observed the proper formalities. "My lord, I am honored by your invitation and grateful for your hospitality. I pledge my loyalty and service to you and your house." He gave a slight bow, probably too small if I was judging by what I knew. Ugh, politics. "If Lord Lannister would do me the honor of observing the guest's rights, I would be grateful."

I motioned behind, and a servant brought forth bread and salt. "You are welcome beneath my roof, bread and salt have been offered to you. May your stay be a pleasant one."

After the ceremony, I handed the group off to the servants to escort them to their rooms. Nothing truly important was planned for today, so they would have ample time to prepare for the events. I would probably send someone to invite Lord Farman to a meeting sometime later today.

I had to get him on my side before discussing any of my plans with the other lords. It wasn't just because I needed him to get Kevan's approval. He also served as the de facto leader of what my uncle called the coastal power block. One might think it would be led by the better-positioned Lannisters of Lannisport, but they were significantly curtailed by most Lannister lords keeping their power in check. Can't have members of the extended family becoming too powerful.

It wasn't set in stone, but the lords of the Westerlands roughly divided themselves by region. The more coastal lords had similar wants, so they would band together in most decisions. Right now, they hold the position of being the most powerful faction. The Reynes used to lead a powerful inland faction of lords who dealt in gold and silver, but Tywin's actions in the Reyne-Tarbeck revolt shot them down rather marvelously.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

These were just a fraction of what I needed to consider when making large moves. Even my threefold plan to grow our trade would empower the coastal nobles and anger the others. I had some plans to mitigate this, but It was almost guaranteed that I would anger some lord's pride in the days to come.

Hopefully, the meeting with Lord Farman goes well.

~~~

He stood me up.

Well, what he really did was tell the messenger I sent that he would be busy in the evening but open to a discussion tomorrow morning. It was transparently an attempt to buy time because as soon as he finished unpacking, he was seen leaving the Rock to visit Lannisport. I had people following him just in case he was plotting anything. After all, he was the lord who had to be pacified by Tywin sending an envoy to play The Rains of Castamere.

So now, in between training, ruling, and trying to write down a comprehensive book of laws, I had a bit of free time in the evening to spend with Tyrion.

"Jaime! I did it! Did you see? Did you see?" The excitable boy called out from where he was doing cartwheels on the expensive Myrish carpets in the center of the room.

A voice called out from across the table I was sitting at. "I think your brother Jaime had his head in the clouds." My uncle Gerion interrupted, and I shot him a look of annoyance. "Maybe lamenting all the beautiful whores he won't get to see because he postponed his trip to the free cities."

"Gerion." I glared at the man in warning. Just because it was normalized here didn't mean I wanted Tyrion to hear about these things when he was so young. I turned away from my lecherous uncle and looked at my brother. "Sorry for getting lost in my head. I'll make sure to look this time." I gestured for him to continue.

I watched and pretended to be amazed by my brother's half-cartwheel, which ended in an awkward somersault. It was clear his disability would probably get in the way of him becoming good at the art. Still, if it made him happy, I would encourage him to continue.

I glanced across the table as Gerion started to shout advice and criticisms of the young boy's form. "Thanks," I said. It was in a low tone, so it wouldn't bother Tyrion.

"Hm?" The man seemed surprised for a second before asking. "For what?"

"Spending time with him." I gestured over to the boy, currently trying and failing to do a more complete cartwheel.

"You don't have to thank me." Gerion tried to sound dismissive. "He's my nephew. I'd have to be a real prick to do anything less."

I raised my eyebrow at the not-so-veiled attack on his siblings before deciding to ignore it. "Still, thanks."

There were a few moments of silence as we both took a sip of wine and watched the boy.

"Well, I guess I will have to accept your thanks, Lord Lannister. I wouldn't want my nephew growing up without knowing how to tumble. It's useful for many things, some of which the boy will have to wait a few years for." Gerion joked with a slightly mocking smile.

I rolled my eyes at the innuendo. "He's eight."

"He's a Lannister." Gerion shot back as if that somehow made it more understandable, though knowing the canon kids of Tywin, maybe I could see that.

"Oh, do Lannisters have a reputation I don't know about? Other than you, of course." I smirked, and he sent me a faux-offended look.

"I'll have you know my honorable reputation is known throughout the entire Kingdom." He gestured wide with his win cup, and I watched as some spilled out. Luckily, the carpet wasn't under the table. I would feel bad for the servant who had to clean that. "Maybe even all the Seven Kingdoms."

"Based on what you said earlier, I would guess it's known more widely than that." That comment got a snort, and I watched my uncle almost choke on his wine.

"S-seven hells." He laughed. "That very well might be true! I bet those Lys girls still remember me." He boasted and then started laughing again. "Man, they were really something, those girls, incredibly skilled. Not too smart though, I told them my brother shits gold and wouldn't you know, and they believed me."

I chuckled slightly. "Did they believe you? Or did they believe your money?"

"Oh, does the little lordling doubt my ability to read someone's reactions?" Something on my face must have given him the answer because he immediately followed up. "Well, I guess I'll just have to prove it to you."

He sat up in his chair and focused on me. The intensity of his gaze was almost uncomfortable.

"I think my oldest nephew is a sword swallower."

I choked on my wine. "What?" I was genuinely surprised it took me a few seconds to stop choking. "What makes you think that?"

He contemplated what he was going to say for a few seconds. Did he really put that much thought into this? "I just can't remember you ever taking an interest in any girls around the castle. Around your age, even Tywin took a camp follower or two to bed when he wasn't chasing after Joanna. Even earlier today, that Farman girl walked right by you swinging her hips, and you didn't even turn to look. I guess you're a bit of a prude but not so bad that you won't talk about it, so I don't think it's a religious thing."

Dang, he really did put a lot of thought into this. Maybe this was where Tyrion had got the idea of trying to guess someone's life story from.

"Not that I plan on telling anyone or anything like that, and it's not that I don't really see the appeal. But-"

"Uncle." I interrupted his ramblings. "I'm sorry to start poking holes in your idea, but have you ever seen me looking at a man like you believe I should be looking at women?"

There was an awkward moment of silence. "I guess not?"

I sighed; I really didn't feel like explaining what aro-ace meant to a man who called being gay 'sword swallowing.' "Well, then, I'll clear things up for you. I can certainly appreciate the beauty of women. It's just that I don't allow my prick to control my every action like some Lannisters I happen to know."

"Ah…"

"Hey!" Tyrion's winded voice called out from across the room. "Now, both of you aren't watching." He complained. I turned to Gerion and raised an eyebrow. It was his turn to take the blame.

"Very sorry, your lordliness." He got up and did an elaborate bow. "I was just trying to prove something to your brother and failing miserably."

Tyrion waddled over, and I could clearly see he had tired himself out. I still had time to spare, considering I wouldn't have much time for him over the coming weeks. Maybe I could stay and do something different?

"What were you trying to prove?" My brother asked, looking curious.

"Ah," Gerion looked at me awkwardly. "Just that I could read people's faces rather well."

"I might have a better way to prove that." I cut in before Tyrion could ask the guy any more questions. I rummaged through my pocket and pulled out a stack of cards I had ordered to be made. They weren't as good as playing cards in my last life. Still, they were serviceable and easier to make, especially for the time period.

It's one of the many perks of being obscenely rich.

"" How?"" They both asked, looking at the cards in confusion.

So that was how I ended up teaching them both how to play poker. It was slightly tricky trying to get them to understand the rules, and Tyrion might have been a little young, but eventually, I got a game going. We mainly played Texas Hold 'em, with most of our bets consisting of just copper pennies. It was mostly just to get them both introduced to the game.

Eventually, I invited the guards outside to join us, but only Vylarr took me up on the offer. So, the four of us played, celebrated, and drank until the stress of the upcoming days felt a little less daunting. Sure, I only really allowed myself a minor buzz. I had work to do in the morning, but I still had a great time. It was times like this I didn't regret my decision to stay here and not just fuck off to some corner of Essos with enough gold to live on.

I almost managed to win the most that night, but after Gerion bought the kid back into the game, Tyrion somehow managed to come back and win it big in the end.

Beginner's luck.