Yagami Light in Game of Thrones

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***

The apple was red and juicy. Ryuuk would love it, Light thought, throwing away the stump. He sat alone on the veranda of the tavern. The schoolboys huddled inside and occasionally cast curious glances in his direction. Few noble lords show an interest in science. Oberyn Martell forged six links of the maester's chain, but that was a long time ago. Leo Tyrell, nicknamed the Sloth, studying at the Citadel now, has forged none. This handsome and arrogant young man was more into drinking and whores than studying. He was respectful to Light, but openly despised everyone else. A familiar type of man. Sloth didn't interest Light, and neither did little Runes, boring Armen, stupid Pate, or any of the other schoolboys gathered at Pere and Mug to celebrate the new 300th year. The only interesting type among them was Alleras, nicknamed Sphinx, the son of a Dornishman and a Letnian, who had forged three links in one year. The dark-skinned Sphinx wielded a bow made of goldilocks and was not a bad shot. However, he refused to compete with Light. Light was under the impression that Alleras, like many Dornish, disliked the Lannisters.

It had been three months since Olenna Tyrell had given him an ultimatum through her granddaughter. 'I know you intend to kill Tommen and seize the throne,' she said matter-of-factly, 'and I have nothing against it, provided you get rid of Myrcella and marry Margaery. Refuse, and my family will join Daenerys.'

The old woman isn't called the Queen of Spikes for nothing. But her threat has one weakness: it will only work if Tommen dies before Daenerys attacks. And Light isn't foolish enough to rush him to his death. The current situation suits him just fine for now. While Tommen warms the throne for him, Light will fortify himself in the Stormlands, establishing an economic base and an army armed with the latest weapons for Westeros. Light will sit out the Iron Throne war with Daenerys in his castle. No one will expect any exploits from the young man - he will be able to defend his lands, and that's fine.

Tommen is about five years away from puberty. After that, the king will have to be killed, because if Tommen has a child, the task will be much harder. Well, that's plenty of time. In five years Light will have time to realise all the projects he has planned, Daenerys will be defeated and the threat of the Queen of Spikes will be over.

And if Daenerys attacks later? Too bad for her. And for the Tyrells, if they dare to support her. Though they have the largest army in the country now, in five years' time the odds will shift in the Lannisters' favour. The Greyjoys will be finished. The Starks will be out of war because of winter. The River and Storm Lords will get used to the new power and stop thinking about rebellion. Lannister gold will provide an influx of mercenaries, and firearms and crowds of fanatical sparrows will complete the job. When Light sits on the throne, he won't need allies. No one and nothing in the world will be able to stop him.

But that will come later. For now, the Tyrells must believe they have him on the hook. Margaery will give Light's consent to her grandmother, the roses will quiet down for a while, and Light will find out all about the dragons in the meantime. It was high time to go to the Citadel and talk to Archmaester Marvin.

So thought Light, sitting on the bleachers between Myrcella and Margaery. The Queen held her little husband's hand and occasionally touched the hand of the man she thought would replace him. Tommen jumped up and down on the spot and cheered each time another knight knocked his opponent out of the saddle. By the end of the day, the winner had been decided. It was Lord Beric Dondarrion, one of Light's vassals. The knight rode along the stands, shaking a black shield with a bifurcated purple lightning bolt, and presented a wreath to Lady Alliria Dane, younger sister of the legendary Ser Ertur Dane. In front of hundreds of spectators, the victor asked for her hand in marriage; the joyous lady said yes.

There was a feast during the night, and in the morning the guests began to depart. Light signed a contract with the Dornish merchants, gave the necessary orders for his absence, and left for Staromest. The voyage took a month.

Light liked Staromest more than any city or castle in Westeros he had seen before. The clean cobblestone streets, the beautiful stone houses, the grand tower of the Hightowers, and the monuments to local heroes made the bright and colourful King's Landing look like an overgrown village compared to the oldest city in the country. The unhurried flow of the Medowitchka River and the cool gardens of the Citadel were peaceful and tranquil. If Light were an ordinary man without ambition, he would have stayed here.

A servant girl brought him a mug of cider. Rosie, a girl of fifteen whose virginity was valued by her mother at a golden dragon. Pate dreams of having her, except he doesn't have enough money. Lazy Leo has enough, but he doesn't care about Rosie, although he often taunts Pate, saying he'll fuck his lover one day. One golden dragon could make Pate happy and make him a loyal servant to Light, if the dumbass had any use for him.

Sipping his drink slowly, Light reread yesterday's letter from Storm's Edge. Maester Yurn was reporting to Lord Lancel on the current state of affairs. The first autumn harvest had been harvested and, if the gods were gracious, a second one would be possible. The sparrows are growing in number and their sermons are favoured by the common people. The Chief Sparrow's book outlining the new church doctrine has been printed and is selling well. Experiments on a new and improved model of cannon have been completed. The model has been put into production, ten pieces have been made so far. Work is underway on handguns, Gallin is experimenting with barrel length and thickness. Taxes are coming in well. Trade revenue has increased due to the agreement with Dorne. Interest to the Iron Bank is paid on time. The regular army under Ser Jaselin has reached 1,500. Dornish traders have brought a new game, kaiwassa, to the Stormlands. Maester Jurn himself has no time to play, but Podrick and Brienne, bored without Light, often compete in it. Podrick almost always wins.

There's been no news from the capital lately. The country is calm, and the war has subsided on its own. Due to the storms raging in the Sunset Sea, the Ironborn's activity has dropped to zero. The Northmen were fortifying the Cailin Ditch and building a fleet in White Harbour. There was no hurry, the Iron Throne would not start fighting before spring.

Light finished his cider and smiled contentedly. Everything was going as planned. Light's previous actions had set the course, and now reality was moving in the right direction even without his involvement. For the first time in almost two years in this world, Light had free time. And free time is best spent acquiring new knowledge.

In two months in the Citadel, Light had learnt more about the world than in the previous year. The collection of books here surpassed the libraries of Cliff, Red Castle, and Winterfell combined. From ancient legends to modern politics, from the Outlands to the Summer Isles, from the depths of the sea to the heavens, the Maesters' research covered everything. Westeros proved to be more advanced than Light had expected... and at the same time, more backward. While the Maesters were surprisingly meticulous in some areas of science, they avoided others as if on purpose. Light even began to suspect that the Maesters were deliberately hindering progress in order to preserve the structure of society and their privileged position in it. If that were true, the Clave must see Light as an enemy... though the Maesters were hardly aware of their superiors' plans, and in any case, they would not dare to harm Lannister openly. Grey sheep, as Archmaester Marvin called them. A short, fat man with a face like a mastiff's was wary of Light at first. But Light's genuine interest in magic and dragons helped melt the ice. Marvin the Mage showed him obsidian candles burning with a steady, bright flame, and told him of an ancient prophecy - Daenerys, it said - and of those whom the Mother of Dragons was destined to defeat.

The Others.

Almost no one in Westeros believed in their existence. Nor in the existence of giants, Children of the Forest, and other creatures of legend. Marvin the Mage did. And after careful study of the sources, Light began to believe as well.

The Night's Watch sent letters to King's Landing, Old Town and Winterfell. The Black Brothers cried out for help. Lord Commander Mormont did not return from the campaign beyond the Wall, but all Lord Tywin did was advise the Watch to choose Janos Slynt as commander. The Wildlings are Robb Stark's problem, not ours, my uncle declared in his last letter. Ser Alliser Thorne and his tale of the living dead was laughed at in the capital. Tyrion was the only one who doubted... but the dwarf could do nothing without his father's approval, and Lord Tywin didn't believe in dead men. He didn't believe in dragons either, or pretended not to, so as not to create panic. Light did not know what measures his uncle was taking to ward off Daenerys's threat, or if he was taking any. It was entirely possible that the worry was unnecessary. The dragons would not grow back for some time, and as long as the alliance between the lion and the rose remained intact, the Lannister power would not be threatened.

Except for the Ice Dead. And those are the first threat to the Starks.

The books and Ser Alliser said fire kills the living dead. No one had ever seen or killed one, but Marvin the Mage believed three things were deadly to them: obsidian, Valyrian steel, and dragon fire. And while Valyrian steel was a great rarity, dragonfire a unique wonder, the obsidian deposits on Dragonstone were estimated at several thousand tonnes.

Light wondered about cannons with obsidian cartridges.

He had come to this world a sceptic, not inclined to take magic tales on faith. The world around Light was no different from the ordinary Middle Ages - nothing except for the odd change of seasons and a few legends that looked like typical pre-modern ignorant fabrications. With the arrogance natural to a representative of modern civilisation, Light decided that he knew and understood everything or almost everything in this world. But step by step the world convinced him otherwise. First, Light believed in dragons: the evidence of their existence was hard to dismiss. Studying the books in Winterfell's library led him to believe that the legends of non-human races might be true. Since then, he had seen a red comet, a man changing faces, and a candle that burned without burning out. Magic was not dead, as many thought. It had simply fallen asleep... but the rebirth of the dragons had awakened it.

A fascinating world of magic opened up before Light.

From Marvin the Magician he learnt of the Asshai shadowcasters and the Quartian Immortals, in dusty scrolls he read of the mysterious Loratian labyrinth and the strange NEWT statue in the Basilisk Islands, sailors told him legends of mermaids and leviathans. Light greedily absorbed the new information - whether it was true or not could be sorted out later. The dry book dust made him sneeze, his eyes reddened from lack of sleep, and his mind plunged deeper and deeper into the ancient mysteries.

A new year, the year 300, was dawning. The Riverlands were flooded with rain, the North was covered with snow, but Stromest was warm. Autumn had not yet set in. The schoolboys were already celebrating, and Light thought he might join them, when suddenly a boat appeared on Medovic. The boat docked at the island and brought Pate ashore. Avoiding looking Light in the eye, Pate handed him a letter with a lion's seal and left, receiving a copper penny for his labours. Light tore off the seal.

Lancel!

There's been a misfortune. A great misfortune for our house and our country. My brother Tywin is dead. Leave all your business and come to the capital at once. You'll find out the details when you get there.

Keevan.