Chapter 2

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The first thing that would stand out to any visitor to Casterly Rock was just how much wealth was on display inside its walls. While the Lannisters were famous for the gold produced inside their mines, as the golden veins running across the very walls could attest to, it was not the liberal use of the precious metal that caught Myrrddin’s attention. No, it was not the overt displays of wealth that caught his attention as he stepped inside the large solar, but the subtle ones.

From shining silken banners with the image of a lion woven with golden thread framing the old grizzled form of the Lannister Patriarch to the large solid piece of ebony he used as his table, any one of these displays alone was worth far more than the wage of a normal man in Westeros. Those, however, paled in comparison to the one item in the room that set them apart from just being rich to fabulously wealthy: an innocuous little glazed porcelain bowl filled to the brim with fresh tropical fruits laid before him.

He knew they were rich but this was just ridiculous. Yes, he knew he was poor and the gulf between them was huge, but couldn’t they have not rubbed it in? His brow twitched as he stood before the Warden of the West. The man then quirked a brow at him, “First time seeing such fruits, Myrrddin?” He asked him

“Oh no, I’ve seen them plenty of times,” He replied with a smile, noting how the lord knew him by his name already before he added, “While I’m not especially fond of Pineapples compared to Mangos, they’re quite tasty and refreshing; especially with salt.”

He had envisioned this a hundred thousand times and imagined the outcome a thousand more, but it was a far different matter to be right in front of the most powerful man in all the westerland and he definitely struck quite the intimidating figure. The man’s thinning hair and age did little to detract from how intense his stare was.

“Oh do they now?” He asked as the door opened behind them, something followed by the scent of fresh bread filling the room. Servants came in bringing with them freshly baked loaves and some salt for the most important ritual in Westeros, “How fortunate that we have some salt on hand just for the occasion.”

Laid before them was a simple serving of bread, nothing fanciful, but here was the one thing that kept things civil, “Before that, however, Bread and Salt,” He offered before asking him, “I assume you are familiar with our customs, Myrrddin?”

“I’ve been living here for quite some time now. I can say I’m plenty familiar enough,” He replied easily as he thanked the servant before grabbing himself a slice. After adding just a small sprinkling of salt atop the loaf, He scarfed it all down, not wasting a morsel of this wonderful slice of bread he was given. It was far softer and fluffier compared to the gritty bread of the slums, a welcome change if he may say so himself.

With the offered salt and bread consumed by both parties, Myrrddin could finally relax knowing that he was under guest protection. While Westeros could be backwards at times, there are just some customs that he could rely on from time to time to avoid bodily harm, or more bruises in his case.

Despite healing his injuries after the temporary blackout, he’d rather not have a second serving of knuckle sandwich. He rubbed his cheeks, checking if he had left any bruising left, but found only unblemished skin. Thank the powers that be for giving him his healing powers, he supposed.

“I see that the injuries caused by my sons… unruliness have been healed. It’s not everyday that I get to see such sorcery in action,” The man noted as he finished his own slice before grabbing the pineapple on top of the pile of fruits and placing it atop the plate which the bread came with before peeling it with the same knife used for the bread. He carved it up, slicing up the top and coring it before making neat rings for them to partake in. Taking a slice for himself and adding some salt, he then offered him the plate, “Would you care for a slice?”

“I see that my reputation precedes me, and most definitely,” He accepted the offered plate and took a slice for himself as well. His smile stretched further as the man's eyes widened almost imperceptibly while both of them savored the fruit.

Finally, after quite some time in Lannisport, the Lannisters finally took notice. While it took him longer than he’d have liked to build a reputation, he was here at last. It may have been over cautious on his part but, given how he felt the stares of the four guards stationed by the door of the solar, it was the right choice in the end. He was magical, he was an unknown, and oftentimes people did not react well to unknowns.

Not approaching gave him some power to negotiate as well. It was Tywin that asked for him there. He did not ask for an audience, instead he was given one, despite the rather unorthodox way he earned it. He now had the ball in his court so the question was… how was he going to approach this?

A servant from earlier soon came back bearing with them bowls filled with scented water, one for each of them. As Tywin washed his hands in his he said, “You’ve certainly made yourself quite the reputation down in the old quarters,” pausing for a bit as he dried his hands with a clean cloth before continuing, “A foreign boy, without family nor money at hand suddenly appears in the streets of Lannisports offering healing at such prices that even a poor peasant family could afford it if they had some coins saved up.”

“I was… in a rather precarious situation when I arrived in these lands and a few good deeds go a long way,” He answered truthfully as he reached out for the vessel and called out to the water within. As the water floated up, the guards stirred to attention, only to be stopped by Tywin raising his hand. The man watched as he washed his hands with the water, letting it slide across his palm and digits before pushing it back back to the vessel leaving his hands clean and dry.

“Though, I’m not limited to the healing arts as I also offer up other services such as firefighting, air purifying, water cleaning, and land clearing to name a few,” He added. In truth, he had but mere cantrips at hand, but he was without a teacher. He had to learn it all himself, but it was proving hard when he had to draw from his own vitality. Still, he flaunted his powers away, confirming what rumors Tywin might have about him while keeping the true limits to himself.

“You’re certainly a man of many talents, Myrrddin,” Tywin remarked as the servant all too hastily grabbed the vessel before leaving. Leaning back, he then shifted the topic at hand, “Still, despite your healing hands erasing the marks upon you, that does not excuse my son for his actions.”

Myrdin laughed softly, waving it off as replied, “I see it more of a minor scuffle than anything. No permanent injuries, no problem. I’ve healed plenty worse before,” He then paused as he gazed down on his scarred hands, tracing the jagged lines running up to his sleeves which he purposely left behind as a reminder of dealing with the forces he now wielded before he continued, “Emotions simply ran hot, and who could blame him for fearing the worst for his sister?”

Yes, he was downplaying his injuries, but one did not simply let such things go, “There is a difference, however, between feeling such anger and letting it control him, a lesson that I have to surely instill upon him,” Tywin replied with a frown, “He has much to learn. He’s spending far too much time in the field that he’s forgetting his manners.”

“He definitely has been, given how he mistook me for a Targeryen,” Myrrddin jested, accepting the man's roundabout apology before he softened the blow to the man’s pride, “But I do have to give credit where it’s due. Your son has a future in the field of battle.” He did not like Jaime one bit, particularly after the blow he gave him, but what use would it be for him to show his distaste to the man's father? Best to show grace in the face of such matters. Besides, it’s not like the boy would come out of this unscathed considering what type of man Tywin was.

Tywin snorted before shaking his head and answering, “That he has, but he needs to control his temper. Rest assured that such an incident will not happen again,” Tywin grimaced as he reached for his knife and sliced himself another bite to chew on, “As for my other child, you have my gratitude for bringing her safely,” He then said as he speared the cube before taking a bite.

Ah yes, now they came back to the matter of Cersei. Where did he begin with that girl? Yes, she can be a menace, but he had invested too much time and effort on her to give up now. It also didn’t hurt that she’s very cute, “She was certainly a handful. It’s a good thing that she had her handmaidens with her, else who knows what sort of trouble she’d have found herself in,” He told him, making sure to let Tywin know that the girls did their best. He’d rather not have them punished for Cersei’s lapse of judgment, “We definitely had enough with my landlord getting all drunk and stupid,”

“Ah yes, the dockside incident. The son of a merchant who owned land within the city caused quite the commotion by chasing down a group of teens,” Tywin sneered as recounted the incident, telling Myrrddin that nothing truly got past him. It might take time, but he’ll learn of it eventually, “No matter, it’s already been taken care of. I’ve sent my most trusted knight to see to that,” He then said, waving off the matter as if it was an afterthought. The dogs of the Calagne were going to be feeding tonight.

Myrrydin kept quiet, making sure not to smile as his former landlord's death was all but confirmed. Rest in peace, landlord, or maybe rest in pieces. He would be of better use to feed the worms down six feet under. Was he being petty about it? Yes. Was it cathartic to know the man who nearly killed him was dead? Also yes.

“Still, there’s the matter of land now suddenly without an owner. From what I’ve gathered, you have been renting the property built in that area, yes?” The man mused out loud, to which Myrrddin raised a brow. Given his landlord died, the land was technically up for grabs as Tywin was the one who gave the sentence.

“I have and I’ve been meaning to buy it off him after a while,” he replied, letting his intentions for the land known. It was a small chance, but he could possibly own his own property if Tywin was so inclined.

The man nodded as he then said without so much of a hint of hesitation, “It seems that some congratulations are in order. Consider yourself the owner of a small plot of land in Lannisport.”

Myrrddin now smiled as he gave the man a small bow, “Thank you my Lord.” The land itself was quite valuable, as all land was in urban environments. He silently thanked the fact that land could still be bought here in Westeros and not tied to the nobility. He’d rather have a home to call his own.

“Don’t thank me just yet, I’ve yet to properly reward you, considering the service you have done as well as the injuries upon your person,” The man said as he gestured for the guards. He tensed for a moment before the sound of coins rattling inside a thick chest filled the room, “For saving my daughter, a ransom fitting for a king.”

Myrrddin felt his mouth grow dry as he turned his head to see a small chest being carried forward. The heavy thud that followed after it was placed down beside him showed him just how many coins were inside and it was a lot, “Let it not be said that the Lannister House does not pay their debts,” The man replied with a hint of pride.

“Indeed…” He whispered before silently scolding himself as he saw the man’s lips twitch ever so slightly. He was letting the man dictate how he was getting rewarded, bulldozing to what little sense of indignation in him with copious amounts of money. He could still salvage this as this was just for the trouble Cersei gave him.

“As for the latter, seeing that you are in no need of a Maester for aid, would additional monetary compensation to your initial reward suffice?” The man then asked, pressing in and appealing to his greed. Myrrddin had to admit, he was half tempted to just grab the gold and get the hell away from the Westerlands, but he had his sights on one girl. The fact that it would save the kingdom a whole lot of headache if she were to break from her incestuous ways was just further icing on the cake. It was definitely not because he just liked them a bit crazy.

Clearing his throat, he then suggested, “If I may be so bold my lord, I have something else in mind,”

Tywin frowned but he did not let it phase him as he waited before finally, the man ordered, “Speak.” The silent threat to keep it reasonable remained unsaid, but was well understood. Things were getting tense, far too tense for his liking, so he resorted to the one thing he knew he could rely on.

“While this is certainly enough money to last a man several lifetimes, it would not bring me closer to the goal of every wizard of renown,” He told him, letting the question on what a wizard truly needed hang in the air.

Tywin shifted from his seat as he leaned closer before asking, “Oh? And what does a wizard truly seek?”

“While fame and fortune is certainly nice to have,” He began as he slowly walked up to the table before placing his hand atop it. Leaning forward, he whispered conspiratorially, “A wizard is not truly a wizard until he finds himself a tower to occupy,” For once, he lied his ass off, leaning heavily into the absurdity of it all as he gritted his teeth, making sure not to flash him a smile. Was it a lie, however, given that a court wizard would need a place eventually?

There was silence between them as the man stared at him, the emotionless mask the man wore slowly coming undone as he replied in disbelief, “... A tower. A wizard needs a tower?”

“See, Wizards like myself are like hermit crabs. As we grow in strength, we move out of our old towers and go out in search of new ones to occupy,” He started as he sat on the chair as he spat out bullshit like there was no tomorrow, “Oh, not just any tower will do. There’s some requirements it must meet, like being taller than any nearby rivals and being made of sturdy materials to survive our magical experimentation, but what’s truly essential is that it’s attached to a castle,” He quickly added, explaining why he needed such a tower.

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In its very core, his lies stemmed from a singular truth, the truth that he needed a safe space, sturdy enough and far enough from people that he could experiment in peace. Come to think of it, maybe it really was the reason why Wizards wanted towers. After all, fire would burn out the very top of one but rarely would it ever push downwards, excepting under certain circumstances.

Tywin stared for a bit, mouth hanging agape, before he took a deep breath and reached up to his face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he then replied, “If you seek employment under my court, you simply have to ask.”

“But what’s the fun in that?” He fired back, laughing softly as he got off the table. Dusting himself, he then said, “But, kidding aside, I am quite interested in serving under your family’s banner.” Yes, he did make his intentions clear, but he masked just how much he wanted it. He was pretty sure that he was bastardizing the rules of a negotiation with his actions, but he was never that good in them anyways.

Despite his rather unorthodox way in proposing a deal, this did not dissuade Tywin, who hummed in thought. Looking up to him with his face unreadable once more, he then said, “If half the rumors about you are true, having you under my retinue would definitely desirable, but given how novel your powers are, the matters of what exactly your role shall be in my court is still up in the air.”

The negotiations were now in motion, now he just had to get what he wanted. He wanted to be part of the court of Tywin, but to get in he needed to sell the idea that Tywin needed him. Yes, he had magic, but if he couldn’t sell the fact that his magic had uses aside from being just purely situational his value would decrease from an asset to a white elephant. He might be underselling himself, but he’d rather not assume things until things are negotiated in full.

“A court wizard has a lot of uses, my lord,” He replied as he spread his arms wide. With a wave of his staff, trailing sparkles, he reasoned, “With the magic we wield, we are mobile artillery that one could call upon in times of battle. With the wisdom and knowledge we seek in our studies, we can teach the next generation and advise you in matters concerning the natural and supernatural forces. If there’s a problem, we can solve it most of the time, given judicial use of magic.”

Tywin leaned back but kept his cool as he noted, “Some of those roles does sound awfully close to that of my Maesters,”

“What would be the problem of having two maesters at hand? And it’s not like a maester can master all disciplines,” He countered.

“There is definitely wisdom in that, but they do have one thing that you lack,” He brought up as he his narrowed, “They have the backing of an institution to support their claim of neutrality and impartiality.”

Myrrddin had to stop himself from hissing as he ran into a hurdle. While he did have a reputation, it couldn’t quite compare to that the Maester built up, “I can hardly say they’re truly neutral but for the purposes of a lord, they effectively are,” He muttered, relenting to that point.

Tywin then pressed on, “Now, let’s say that I do want to have you in my service and I’m considering granting you the boons you seek, what assurance that this is not merely a ploy for you to gain more power by having access to my court? How can you show me that you’re willing to be my banner man, given that you’re neither a knight devoted to the teachings of the warrior nor a maester whose only pursuit is knowledge?

Now came the matter of loyalty, one of the most important cornerstones of a feudal society. How can he guarantee his fealty given he was an outsider to the system built into the social fabric of Westeros. No, he couldn’t offer something he didn’t have.

“I’m a greedy man, my lord, and in the matters I want to have control of, the Lannisters simply offer the most of it out of all the houses in Westeros. If I wanted power, I would have gone straight for the capital,” He freely admitted. He branded himself a mercenary, but that gave Tywin a leash for which to hold. While he wasn’t truly beholden to wealth, given what he was, it was something that the man understood.

“Yes, my lord, I am a selfish man, but what man does not want a steady job?” He reasoned. He wanted a place where he didn’t have to worry about what to do while he gained strength and, maybe, someone he could have as his own. “Your storied house has the most to offer not just in wealth but in the security found in knowing that the Lannisters are here to stay, even long after I’m gone. That as well as some of the most beautiful towers as well,” He added in good jest.

“If wealth is what you seek, why not seek the court of the king? Yes, the Westerlands is rich, but what is it compared to the entire kingdom? They certainly have the prestige as well in the Red Keep and their mighty towers,” The man argued.

“I’d rather not get stabbed in the back, my lord. While I do not speak ill of the king, the place in which he rules is a den of snakes,” He replied. Yes, he could affect the fate of the kingdom more in the Capital, but a genius he was not. He neither has the guile nor daring in him to risk it all in King’s Landing, especially in such a volatile scene, “Also, as attractive as the towers of the Red Keeps are… their tower is already occupied. Fucking Pyromancers…”

Tywin hummed, mulling over his words before he spoke up once more, “Speaking of Pyromancers, why can’t I simply hire them instead? They are certainly magical enough, and you seem to be less inclined with dealing with them, and they do have the reputation.”

“Ah, they might be powerful in numbers, but are you willing to risk yours with their reckless experimentations?” He asked Tywin, at which the man nodded grimly, relenting to his point. The green fires of Wildfire were… difficult to deal with.

Taking his chance, he pressed on, appealing to flattery for once, “As it stands, the only place I could safely find employment is here in Westerland because this is the place that Tywin Lannister rules,” He appealed to the man's pride, laying it on thick as he then said, “In this land you rule I, as a simple wizard, found a place where a man with the right sets of skills and talents could grow and be rewarded.”

The man scoffed but the smile he had on his face was not so easily hidden, “You certainly know your way around flattery.”

“Is it truly flattery if I’m not lying to my lord?” He fired back. “After all, not once did you ever make comments on my appearance or view my powers with suspicion. So far, you’re the only noble I could see myself truly serving,” He noted, bringing up not once did Tywin ever bring up his appearance. He had remained calm and collected, judging him without any snide comments nor showing fear at his abilities, surprised, yes, but he looked far more intrigued than afraid.

Tywin nodded as he leaned back to his seat and said, “You’ve certainly made your case, let me think about this…”

He had now made his appeal and shown his desires, now it was time to show him that he didn’t necessarily need it. Bowing low, he replied, “Oh I do not mean to impose my lord. If such an option is truly not tenable, then the earlier offer would be more than adequate,” He suggested, letting it be known that he could simply walk away if he so pleased.

“Like I said earlier, the wealth rewarded unto me is more than enough for several lifetimes, I’m sure I’d find employment elsewhere given enough time. The other kingdoms may have problems, but what kind of Wizard am I if I were to let such matters deter me?” He then added. Yes, moving would be a pain, but there are other places which he could see and other women he could pursue, and there’s nothing Tywin could stop him.

While yes, he was not nobility and he was below him in stature, there’s a difference between being a smallfolk and being a slave. He was not bound to the land like a serf, and unlike most smallfolks he had liquid savings on which he could tap on to give him mobility, and that was not even counting his portal creation.

Was he threatening to leave? Technically yes. If Tywin was willing to call the bluff and let a wizard like him fall into the hands of an enemy was an entirely different question. He stood there in silence, letting the man think things through until, finally, he replied, “If I give you your tower, Wizard, will you become part of my retinue?

He almost breathed a sigh of relief but he paused, letting his heart calm down before he made his offer, “All that I ask is for board and lodging, along with a small salary my lord. There’s also the matter of having access to your library as well as writing material.” He wasn’t expecting all of it, adding in a few things he could ditch so they could work things down while still being within his desired gains within Tywin's court.

With his demand made, he then continued on with what he offered for it in return, “In exchange, I shall provide my magical arts in combat, mundane matters, and healing. All of this would be in contract as well. I’d rather not have my service be so vague as to disappoint you, my lord.”

Despite all that they had negotiated earlier, all of it were but simple promises until Tywin was willing to sign it up on paper. Yes, it was just paper at the end of the day, but it gave him assurance that he had some legal protections as well as a way out, flimsy as it was. He had ways to get out of dodge fast, but best to cover his bases so as to not get taken advantage off.

Tywin nodded as he pulled out some paper and started writing down the basics of the contract.

Writing down some numbers, he then paused before asking, “I assume your salary would be negotiable?”

“Of course,” He replied before Tywin turned the page to let him see the wage he offered. He felt his eyebrow rise up at the amount, a slip up, but the amount was quite… generous. With this amount, he really would not have anything to complain about.

He nodded and Tywin continued once more, “On the matter of writing material, the maester has a perview on that, you have to ask him for access to such material. I may be rich but I am not made of gold,” He then said.

He couldn’t help but snort. Of all the things Tywin could skimp on, it was paper that broke the camel's back. Then again, this was not paper in the modern sense but rather velum, and the Westerlands were not a place that was famous for its animal rearing, unlike that of the Reach. It’s not like he needed writing material, however, as he then offered, “Then I ask for access to your kitchen to cook and make use of the ingredients,”

Tywin gave him a once over, look at his weary frame before replying, “You will procure your own spices,” He countered.

“Reasonable,” He replied evenly, holding back his tongue. He had access to food, lots of food, and he was going to milk every last bit of it until Tywin forced him to make an amendment in that part of the contract. With their negotiations growing to a close, he remembered one last detail he forgot to add to the contract, “And one last thing my lord if you will?” He asked, hoping that he wouldn’t be annoyed by the sudden request.

Tywin’s eyes narrowed as he looked up but he didn’t comment. Capitalizing on the little window of opportunity he had, he then requested, “I would like to spend every seventh day of the week out in Lannisport to heal.”

“They do not like you, yet you still go to heal them,” The man asked, questioning him on his intentions. Myrrddin snorted at the question, feeling it weighed on him. It was true that he only mildly improved his own standing to the people of Westeros but… he still wanted to heal them.

“They don’t have to like me when I heal their asses,” He replied with a shrug as he reasoned, “I have the power to heal, so why shouldn’t I use it on people in need? Besides, having another plague pop up is annoying to deal with.” He could also use it as a means to just go out as well. While he wanted to heal people, that didn’t mean he had to heal every booboo or scratch they might have.

Tywin nodded as he wrote it down and said, “Now if there’s nothing else…”

Myrrddin shook his head, not wanting to push his luck any further, and thus the contract was finally drafted. The whole document was lengthy, but it was quite the solid contract; a feat made all the more amazing in that Tywin drafted it himself.

Dusting it with sand and pressing it down to let it dry, he then instructed, “Here’s the draft of the contract. While the ink dries, you can stay in one of the empty rooms, to which my servants shall guide you. You can stay there up until the ink dries and, at which point, you are to vacate the room and review the contract at your leisure. Once signed, you shall start your employment immediately. Understood?”

Myrrddin nodded, feeling his respect for the man grow even more. He was straight to business and tolerated him well enough. “Don’t worry my lord, I shall have it signed posthaste,” He replied. He was going to have to find a merchant friend of his to check the contract over, but as it stood it was plenty good enough. The rules of law in Westeros were weak, but it was not completely powerless.

“Myrrddin, you have promised a lot… but I have faith that you shall give them. It would be remiss of me to not have you added under my banner given your plea. I expect great things from you Myrrddin,” Tywin then said.

“You won’t be disappointed, my lord.” Myrrddin replied. His course was now set, the question now would be if he had made the right choice.

“See to it,” Tywin then said before he then brought up an issue he had, “It’s quite fortunate you made your proposition now that I have a problem on hand.”

“Oh?” Officially, he wasn’t yet employed under Tywin yet, but he was willing to throw in to solve such an issue given that was his task to be after all.

“I found myself lacking a proper maester since my last one died and it would take time for the Citadel to send a replacement. Can you take over my children’s lessons in the meantime?” He then asked. Myrrddin paused, considering it. It was certainly quite the task but was he really going to back down now after all this?

“Certainly, in fact I have some lessons I already have in mind…”