I learned that I was leaving King's Landing from Aerys.
Not my father.
The king.
"You'll miss pouring my wine."
I nearly overfilled his cup.
"Your Grace?"
Aerys smiled.
It had been almost three months since I'd arrived in King's Landing. Long enough that I no longer needed Pate watching every movement of the flagon. Long enough that I knew which councilors preferred red wine, which barely drank, and which somehow emptied their cups whenever an uncomfortable subject appeared.
"Your father intends to send you back to your mountain."
I looked at Tywin.
He was reading a report as though the king had said nothing unusual.
"When?"
"Six days," Tywin answered.
That was apparently all the explanation I deserved.
Aerys laughed.
"Look at him. He didn't even tell you."
"I intended to do so tonight."
"How considerate."
Tywin's eyes lifted.
Aerys smiled.
There were days when the two of them seemed less like a king and his Hand and more like boys engaged in an argument neither remembered starting.
Except neither was a boy anymore.
And the arguments were becoming less harmless.
I returned to my place.
Six days.
Part of me was relieved.
I missed Casterly Rock.
Jaime.
Cersei.
Tyrion.
Even Myrla complaining.
But another part of me looked toward the empty chair Rhaegar sometimes occupied during less important meetings.
Leaving meant leaving him too.
I didn't like that nearly as much.
"You can't go."
That was Rhaegar's response.
"I suspected you'd take it well."
We were in the training yard.
He lowered his wooden sword.
"Why?"
"Apparently Father believes I still need an education."
"You have an education here."
"I pour wine."
"You also lose to me."
"I've beaten you six times this week."
"Five."
"Six."
"The last one didn't count."
"You dropped your sword."
"The sun was in my eyes."
"It was cloudy."
Rhaegar pointed his sword at me.
"That's irrelevant."
I smiled.
Three months ago, I'd beaten him easily.
That had changed.
He was still less naturally gifted than I was. I could see movements sooner. Feel distance more easily.
But Rhaegar worked.
Constantly.
Once he decided to improve at something, he attacked it the same way he attacked books.
And he was bigger than me.
That helped.
"Again," he said.
We raised our swords.
This time, he didn't attack immediately.
Good.
I stepped right.
He followed.
I feinted high.
He didn't bite.
Better.
Then he attacked.
Three strikes.
Fast.
I blocked two.
The third hit my ribs.
"Dead lion."
I rubbed my side.
"That hurt."
"Good."
"You've become unpleasant."
"I learned from you."
I attacked.
He blocked.
Our swords cracked together.
I stepped closer, caught his wrist and pulled.
He lost balance.
I hooked my foot behind his ankle.
Rhaegar fell.
My sword touched his throat.
"Dead prince."
He stared upward.
"You cheated."
"There are no rules in battle."
"Ser Harys told you that."
"Yes."
"You steal all your clever sayings."
"Also yes."
He took my hand.
I pulled him upright.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Rhaegar looked at me.
"Six days?"
"Six days."
His expression changed.
"That's not very long."
"No."
We spent most of them together.
Not dramatically.
That was what made those days matter.
We rode inside the castle grounds.
Fought.
Played dice.
Argued over books.
Rhaegar tried teaching me the harp.
That ended quickly.
"You have no rhythm."
"I have rhythm."
"You attacked the strings."
"It's a poorly designed instrument."
"It's been played for thousands of years."
"Thousands of years of poor design."
Rhaegar took the harp away before I could damage it.
In return, I tried teaching him how to throw a knife.
That ended even faster.
The knife struck the wall sideways and fell.
I stared at it.
Rhaegar stared at it.
"Never do that again."
"Agreed."
We laughed.
Those were the moments I would remember later.
Not the council.
Not Aerys.
Not even the alley.
Rhaegar sitting on the floor trying to repair a dice cup we'd broken.
Rhaegar stealing food from my plate after accusing me of stealing his.
Rhaegar complaining that I talked in my sleep.
I did not.
He was lying.
Probably.
It became easy to forget who he was supposed to become.
Maybe that was good.
On my final evening, Queen Rhaella invited me to supper.
Only the three of us.
No king.
That made everything more comfortable.
Rhaella asked about Casterly Rock.
"Do you miss it?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"And your siblings?"
"Very much."
Rhaegar looked personally betrayed.
"You never said that."
"You never asked."
"You talk about them constantly."
"Then why would I need to say I miss them?"
Rhaella smiled.
"Cersei is your sister?"
"My younger sister. Jaime is her twin."
"And Tyrion?"
"My youngest brother."
Her expression changed slightly.
Not disgust.
I had learned to recognize that quickly.
Everyone at court seemed to know about Tyrion.
Some people were simply better at hiding their reactions.
"I heard his birth was difficult."
I looked down.
"Yes."
Rhaella understood immediately.
"Your mother."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
She didn't say anything else.
I appreciated that.
Rhaegar changed the subject.
"Tycen says Jaime will be a better swordsman than me."
"I said he might be."
"Same thing."
Rhaella looked at me.
"Is Jaime talented?"
"Very."
"Better than you?"
Rhaegar smiled.
I kicked him beneath the table.
He kicked me back.
"I don't know yet."
That was true.
Jaime was five.
Comparing us seriously was stupid.
Rhaella looked between us.
"You are both very concerned with swords."
"Tycen started it."
"You challenged me."
"You insulted my stance."
"It was bad."
Rhaella laughed.
Then she looked at her son.
For just a moment, sadness entered her face.
So quickly I almost missed it.
I wondered whether she already worried about what sort of man Rhaegar would need to become.
Perhaps mothers always did.
Tywin summoned me after supper.
He stood beside a table covered in documents.
"You will leave with Ser Harys and twenty men."
"You're not coming?"
"No."
Of course.
The Hand couldn't simply disappear for weeks every time his son traveled.
I had known that.
Still, disappointment came.
Tywin noticed.
"Is there a problem?"
"No."
He returned to the papers.
I almost left.
Then stopped.
"Father."
"What?"
"Why did you bring me here?"
He looked up.
"To learn."
"I know."
"Then why ask?"
"Because you could have taught me about court at Casterly Rock."
"No."
The answer was immediate.
"You cannot understand court without seeing it."
"What was I supposed to understand?"
Tywin studied me.
Then put the document down.
"Tell me."
A test.
Of course.
I thought about the last months.
"A title doesn't mean someone is powerful."
He waited.
"Some men talk because they have something to say. Others talk because they want people to notice them."
A small nod.
"People agree with the king even when they think he's wrong."
Tywin's face revealed nothing.
Dangerous territory.
I continued anyway.
"And sometimes disagreeing with someone has nothing to do with the thing you're arguing about."
That got his attention.
"Explain."
"The harbor tax."
"What about it?"
"I don't think Aerys cared much about the harbor tax."
Silence.
"He cared that you opposed it."
Tywin watched me for several seconds.
"Continue."
"People want different things. Coin. Positions. Respect. Attention."
"And the king?"
I hesitated.
That was probably the most dangerous question he'd ever asked me.
"Respect."
Tywin waited.
"Maybe more than respect."
"What?"
I remembered Aerys.
His jokes.
His anger.
The way he looked when Tywin corrected him.
"To be greater than the people around him."
Something unreadable passed through my father's eyes.
"Good."
That single word meant more than praise from most men.
Then he asked:
"And Prince Rhaegar?"
I smiled.
"Books."
Tywin did not smile.
"What does he want?"
I thought about our conversation in the streets.
I want to be a good king.
"To be ready."
"For what?"
"I don't think he knows."
Tywin nodded slowly.
"Perhaps."
I turned toward the door.
"Tycen."
I looked back.
"You did well."
I froze.
Tywin had praised me before.
Sort of.
Acceptable.
Satisfactory.
Better.
Never like that.
"Thank you."
His eyes returned to his work.
The conversation was over.
I walked back to my chambers smiling like an idiot.
Rhaegar was waiting for me at the gate the next morning.
Of course he was.
Ser Harys inspected the horses while the Lannister men prepared.
The same long summer sun hung above the city.
Rhaegar held something wrapped in cloth.
"What's that?"
"A gift."
I took it.
Inside was a book.
Not enormous.
Old.
The leather cover was worn.
I opened it.
Dragons.
"Breeding records?"
"No."
"Good."
"A history of the last dragons."
I looked at him.
"That's cheerful."
"You liked the dragon books."
"I did."
"Then take it."
I closed the cover.
"Thank you."
Rhaegar shrugged as though it meant nothing.
Then I noticed writing inside the cover.
Two words.
For Tycen.
Below it:
Rhaegar.
Simple.
I liked it.
"I didn't get you anything."
"You owe me."
"How much?"
"One lemon cake."
"You still haven't accepted that you lost."
"I didn't."
I laughed.
Then Rhaegar held out his hand.
I took it.
This time, instead of releasing, he pulled me into an awkward embrace.
I froze.
Then hugged him back.
"Don't die before I return," I said.
"You're the one who got stabbed."
"Cut."
"Stabbed."
"Cut."
Rhaegar released me.
"Write."
"I will."
"Actually write."
"I will."
"Not three sentences."
"You're becoming demanding."
"I'm the Crown Prince."
"There he is."
He smiled.
I mounted my horse.
Then another voice came from behind him.
"Tycen."
Aerys.
Everyone bowed.
The king approached with two Kingsguard.
His nearly white silver-gold hair moved slightly in the breeze.
He looked at me.
Then at Rhaegar.
"My son seems unhappy to lose his lion."
Rhaegar's expression closed immediately.
Interesting.
"I'll return, Your Grace."
"I'm certain you will."
Aerys studied me for another moment.
"Your mother would have been proud of you."
The words hit harder than expected.
Tywin wasn't there.
Perhaps that was why Aerys said them.
I didn't know.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
His eyes lingered.
Then he smiled.
"Give your father my regards when next you see him."
That confused me.
Tywin was inside the castle.
Aerys knew that.
Perhaps it was a joke.
With Aerys, I was beginning to understand that jokes often had teeth.
I bowed again.
Then we left.
The journey west felt shorter.
Maybe because I knew what waited at the end.
Maybe because Ser Harys talked more than Tywin.
Not much more.
But more.
On the fifth day, he rode beside me.
"You fought badly."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"The alley."
I had told him what happened.
Apparently he'd been waiting nearly a week to insult me.
"You weren't there."
"I heard enough."
"I survived."
"Luck."
"Father said that too."
"Your father is occasionally correct."
I smiled.
"What did I do wrong?"
"Everything."
"Helpful."
"You entered an unknown area unarmed. Allowed three larger opponents to approach. Failed to maintain distance. Got cornered. Charged a knife."
"I stopped him."
"You charged a knife."
He looked at the scar beginning to form on my upper arm.
"Steel does not care how talented you are."
I looked ahead.
"I know."
"Good."
Then he added:
"But you moved."
I glanced at him.
"What?"
"When it became necessary."
His expression remained stern.
"You didn't freeze."
For Ser Harys, that was almost as significant as Tywin telling me I'd done well.
"Next time, don't be there."
"That's the lesson?"
"That's the lesson."
I laughed.
Casterly Rock appeared on the horizon weeks later.
Even from a distance, it was enormous.
Home.
Something tightened in my chest.
As we approached, riders came to meet us.
I recognized the first one immediately.
Jaime.
He was riding a pony.
Badly.
"TYCEN!"
He urged the animal faster.
A man behind him shouted for him to slow down.
Jaime ignored him.
Of course.
He reached us and nearly fell while stopping.
I laughed.
"You ride like Tyrion walks."
Jaime's face transformed.
"You haven't seen how Tyrion walks!"
"Exactly."
Then another rider approached.
Cersei.
She was more controlled than Jaime.
Until she reached me.
Then she jumped from her pony before anyone could help her.
"Tycen!"
I barely dismounted before she hit me.
Not punched.
Hugged.
Hard.
"You took too long."
"I told you I'd come back."
"You said months."
"It was months."
"It was too many."
Her arms tightened.
Jaime arrived beside us.
"You missed my training."
"I heard you're better than me."
Jaime grinned.
"Who told you?"
"You did."
"Oh."
Cersei noticed the scar on my arm.
Her expression changed immediately.
"What happened?"
I looked at Jaime.
Then Cersei.
Behind them, Casterly Rock towered above us.
Home.
"I'll tell you inside."
"Who did it?"
"Cersei—"
"Are they dead?"
I stared at her.
She was five.
I suddenly remembered Tywin.
Then Aerys.
Then the future queen I knew from another life.
"No."
She frowned.
"Why not?"
There it was.
Tiny.
Perhaps meaningless.
Perhaps not.
I put my hand on her head.
"Because not everyone who hurts us needs to die."
Cersei looked unconvinced.
Jaime looked bored.
Neither understood.
They were children.
So was I.
For now.
I looked up at Casterly Rock.
Five years from now, we would all be different.
I didn't know that yet.
All I knew was that King's Landing had changed something in me.
I had left the Rock believing knowledge of the future was my greatest weapon.
I returned knowing better.
Knowledge could warn me.
Training could prepare me.
Gold could buy options.
Names could open doors.
Friendship could create loyalties no map could show.
And none of it guaranteed anything.
I had bled despite knowing how to fight.
Renn had vanished despite Tywin's power.
Aerys sat on the Iron Throne and still feared shadows.
Rhaegar was a prince and still couldn't walk safely through his own city.
Power wasn't being untouchable.
Nobody was untouchable.
Maybe real power was having enough choices when everything went wrong.
Cersei took one of my hands.
Jaime grabbed the other.
Together, they dragged me toward the Rock.
Both talking at once.
I laughed.
For the first time in months, I smelled the sea beneath Casterly Rock.
I was home.
And for a while, that was enough.