Chapter Text
Chapter XIV - Sarwin I
"And what does this one mean, Lord Tyrion?"
"Wide? That's, um…bōsa?"
Sarwin chuckled. "Close, my lord. It's actually drāñe. Bōsa is 'long' in Valyrian."
"They don't sound too close, Maester."
"Not the words themselves, perhaps, but the meanings are quite similar. It's common among those learning new tongues to make small errors such as that, but I will say you've progressed excellently since we began studying High Valyrian. You should be proud of yourself."
The maester of Casterly Rock had only recently begun to teach High Valyrian to young Tyrion Lannister, and he was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the small boy took to learning such a sophisticated tongue. Sarwin knew Lord Tywin's youngest son would never be a warrior with his condition, but he figured Tyrion would do well to be well-read if he were ever in a position to advise his brother, or perhaps even Prince Rhaegar when he succeeded his father as king.
Yet as it turned out, the boy had a natural disposition towards education. Sarwin never found himself having to exhaust himself in helping Tyrion learn, and it now seemed more likely that he'd become exhausted from how fast the child was progressing. Even so, the boy seemed to look up to him for guidance and approval, which Tyrion did not receive from his own father. Not that I would be so foolish to say something about that to Lord Tywin's face, Sarwin thought.
Watching young Tyrion succeed, not to mention seeing the little lord feel happy with himself at said success, made the maester beam inside. He knew that, if given the chance, the little lad could make a good life for himself, regardless of his size. Even if he knew Lord Tywin to be too proud to give any child of his to the Citadel or Starry Sept, a smart lord - one with nothing to inherit and whose status as the second son would make him humble - could serve as a wise councillor to any willing lord for years to come.
And yet in spite of Tyrion's early success in comprehending such a sophisticated tongue, the boy always felt self-conscious, as if every mistake would cost him something important. Sarwin always sought to remind Tyrion of the lad's youth, that he was just beginning to understand a complex and ancient language. But at the very least, Tyrion was motivated to improve after every mistake he made.
"Let us move on. What does this word over here mean, if you would be so kind as to tell me?"
The smallest of the Lannisters looked over the word within Sarwin's book. The maester could see Tyrion mouthing the word to better comprehend its definition, and Sarwin witnessed the boy put the pieces together within his mind.
"'Think,' that should be…pendagon?"
"Very good!" To hear such a correct answer delighted and amused the maester greatly. "I dare say, you're already doing so well for your age, Lord Tyrion. You should be very proud."
"But Maester, why do I need to know this language? Doesn't everyone speak the Common Tongue in Westeros?"
"Ah, yes, but the Targaryens have the blood of Old Valyria coursing through them. They speak High Valyrian to keep alive the traditions of their dragonriding ancestors, and so many lords and ladies are taught to speak in the language to better fit in at the royal court. One day, little lord, you may be summoned to King's Landing, and as such it would be fitting for you to converse with the king or his sons in their mother tongue."
Tyrion was quiet for several long seconds before speaking again. "Do you think…that Father will let me go to the capital?"
Sarwin's smile disappeared so quickly that he didn't even feel his lips moving on his face. He chapped his lips and attempted - unsuccessfully - to form an answer that wouldn't disappoint the young, mishapen child.
"Tyrion, your father, he…"
"I know he doesn't like me, and I know Cersei doesn't like me either."
"They…"
The maester sighed. "I am afraid your father and sister are still grieving, even if it is not as I would do were I ever to lose as they have lost. But while I cannot change your father's mind, even Lord Tywin understands that you are his secondborn son. Should anything happen to your elder brother - Seven forbid - you stand to inherit Casterly Rock and all of its lands & titles. That is plainly written in the laws of gods and men."
Tyrion said nothing. The little boy only stared into the pages of Sarwin's book, no doubt contemplating his master's attempt to comfort him. Sarwin continued.
"One day, Jaime will inherit Casterly Rock, and he may require you to serve him through diplomacy. That is one reason why I am instructing you now, Lord Tyrion: you must serve your older brother once he is the head of your mighty family."
"Jaime says he doesn't want to be a lord," Tyrion said with his eyes still focused on the book. "He just wants to ride on his horse and fight battles all day long."
Sarwin chuckled. "Well, of course. A young lad such as him would love to shower himself in glory through combat. But when he becomes a man in his own right, your elder brother will understand the importance of being the Lord of Casterly Rock. He will take a wife of suitable status and have children of his own one day, and it will fall upon you to act in your brother's interests."
"What about Jason?"
Sarwin smiled. "Your half-brother will have his own part to play, Lord Tywin has made as much clear. He will fight to defend Jamie's home, provide Jaime with counsel if needed, and perhaps even teach Jamie's children the means of combat. He may even have a place at court if your father decides it is fitting for Jason Hill to serve House Lannister in such a manner."
The maester closed his book. "I think we've had quite enough learning for today, and you appear to be doing excellently in you studies this far. And in any event, I am getting a tad famished. I'll go and have my lunch by myself, little Lord, while you can go enjoy the warmth of the sun."
Tyrion looked up at Sarwin with two large eyes. They were filled with a desire for someone to be with him. Seven bless his soul, the poor lad was incredibly lonely, caused no doubt by his…physical differences.
"Can I have lunch with you instead, Maester?"
Sarwin was not expecting to ever hear such a question in his life. A maester was never trained to shared a meal with a lord unless a matter of great importance was to be discussed. After all, maesters were servants of the lords of this realm, never equals. Even the young Tyrion Lannister, small size and all, would be seen as far too powerful to share a meal with Sarwin.
Yet Sarwin knew that Tyrion had few friends beyond his brothers. No, to be more accurate, Tyrion had no friends outside the family. Jaime and Jason could dine and train with the o
pages and squires residing at Casterly Rock, and even with the stain of bastardy on Jason Hill, the boy had been successful in befriending the sons of multiple lords. Alas, Tyrion would never have such an opportunity.
Sarwin smiled at young Tyrion. "I would be honored to, Lord Tyrion. You honor me with such a request."
At that moment, the door to the chamber opened. His chain shaking around his neck, Sarwin turned to see it was none other than Jason Hill. Tyrion's half-brother had a much better-looking eye from when the Clegane boy struck him, and he seemed to be in relatively good spirits.
"Hello, Maester Sarwin. Hello, Tyrion. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
"Not at all," replied Sarwin. "Lord Tyrion had just generously invited me to share a meal with him. He's doing quite well in his studies, I must say."
"That's not surprising," Jason Hill remarked with a smirk. "I think he's held more books than spoons by now."
Tyrion smiled at his half-brother's jest. Sarwin chuckled. "Well now, young Hill, you're a proficient learner yourself."
"Not like Tyrion. He's as smart as Jaime is brave. When he's a man, he'll help tell Jaime what to do as Lord of Casterly Rock."
"I'm learning Valyrian right now," Tyrion cheerfully exclaimed as any excited child would. "It sounds so bizarre!"
"Already?" Jason seemed to be both astounded and impressed by his brother's intellectual prowess. The bastard turned to look at Maester Sarwin. "Could you reach me some words in Valyrian?"
Sarwin could practically feel the color leave his face at that remark. Of all the topics Jason Hill had to inquire into to study, Sarwin said to himself, not ravenry or mathematics or history…it just had to be that one…
"May I ask the reason behind your interest, Jason Hill?"
The boy seemed a tad confused at the anxiety in Sarwin's voice, but nevertheless responded. "It seems like something that Father would consider important to know. And Jaime won't want to sit down and spend hours studying it, so if I can learn it for him, then I can help him when he becomes the Lord of Casterly Rock after Father."
Sarwin swallowed. "While I, er, admire your desire to pursue such a difficult subject, young Hill, I think we have some other topics that warrant your attention first. I was thinking that you could focus instead on numbers or astrology, but perhaps if you were interested in warcraft instead…"
The mention of battle strategy immediately caused Jason Hill's face to beam, just as Sarwin had hoped. For as close as Jason was to Tyrion, the bastard boy was even closer to his elder half-brother Jaime, training together with swords and other weapons almost every day. There was no easier way to distract an aspiring knight from their concerns than incorporating the subject of war into their studies.
"I would love to learn more about warcraft, Maester."
Sarwin sighed in relief. "Splendid. Now, I was thinking that after lunch, you can join Tyrion and I in examining a map of Lannisport's defenses."
"Of course, Maester! Uncle Tybolt showed me some of the main points of defense when he took Jaime and I to Lannisport several months ago."
"Then let this be a refresher of what you already have been taught," Sarwin replied. "I will warn you, Jason Hill. Be cautious as to not refer to See Tybolt as such in the presence of others. He may be your kin, but it is improper for a child of your…status to refer to Lord Tywin Lannister's brother in such an informal tone."
Jason seemed surprised for a second, as if he had forgotten for only a few blissful moments that he was a natural son rather than a trueborn. "Oh, yes. Forgive me, Maester Sarwin, I assure you, I'll be careful in the future."
Sarwin smiled softly. "I know you will. Your kin all know how loyal you are to the family that has raised you since you were a babe. Run along now, and I'll see you later in the afternoon."
…
The maester walked down the halls of Casterly Rock as briskly as he could. Granted, walking hurriedly down a corridor whilst having a chain around one's neck did little to ensure that attention was not drawn to oneself, but why would a guard or knight care for whatever a maester did in his own time?
Sarwin walked towards his intended location as fast as he could, greeting every knight, noble, or any other person whom he saw with a small hello or nod. His body was acting more out of an instinct to display courtesy rather than thought, though he supposed it was a good instinct to possess when serving arguably the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms.
After what felt like far too long, Sarwin saw the room in question. Nodding quickly to the guards as he caught his breath, the maester opened the door to the chamber and scurried to get inside before closing it behind him. The room was occupied by none other than Ser Kevan Lannister, second son of the late Lord Tytos Lannister, as well as Gerion Lannister, the youngest child of Lord Tytos and his late wife Jeyne Marbrand.
"My lords, we need to discuss the education of Jason Hill. The boy has proposed taking up lessons in speaking High Valyrian."
"That should be of no concern," Kevan remarked. "It is common for lords at court to speak the language of the royal family, and if Jason Hill plans on serving House Lannister when he is a man through his tongue rather than his skill at arms, I see no reason to impede his desires."
"With all due respect, Lord Kevan-"
"Call me Ser, Maester Sarwin," Kevan corrected him. "You know better than anyone that my brother Tywin is Lord of Casterly Rock, not I. What I am doing is merely overseeing affairs in his stead as he serves the realm as Hand of the King."
"My apologies. Ser Kevan, I must say that, given what we know about Jason, it might be best to-"
"Tell him no? He'll only ask more questions that way," Gerion Lannister pointed out. "I was a child once, Sarwin, and though I do not know much, I do know this: when a child is denied something, it will make them desire it wholeheartedly. They cannot stand the idea of having anything kept from them, be it a toy or a prized sword."
"So what, you believe it best that I teach the boy High Valyrian? No other bastard in the whole of Westeros would know how to speak it not including the maesters of the Citadel. Would it not come off as suspicious that Lord Tywin would be giving knowledge to his natural son that is typically saved for heirs?"
"No other bastard is the son of our current Hand," Kevan countered. "And it's Tyrion whom the realm whispers about, in any case. All you'll hear about from the Lannisport to King's Landing is about the 'monster' born to my brother and his lady wife, spoken by cowards who wouldn't dare address their Hand face-to-face with such insults."
Sarwin sighed. "I suppose you are both right, my lords. Please forgive me."
"Oh come on now, you old goat," Gerion said with a bit of humor in his voice. "You haven't done anything to upset anyone in your whole life, I'd bet. No doubt the archmaesters at the Citadel gave you a funny look when you didn't want to violate your chastity vow with a little girl, or, knowing some of them, a little boy."
"If you would be so kind as to refrain from making unwanted insinuations about the respected men of the chain, brother," Kevan said exasperatedly. Gerion raised his hands up defensively with a chuckle, though Sarwin himself wasn't even offended at such implications. After all, he had indeed heard rumors at the Citadel about what happened to children who caught the eye of sinful septons and maesters - the mere thought of them made him want to retch.
Ser Kevan sighed and then continued to address the maester of Casterly Rock. "Teach Jason Hill how to speak High Valyrian as you would any other curious highborn child. It shall merely be another subject for him to learn, like astrology and warfare. Nothing more, nothing less. I will let Lord Tywin know of your concerns when he returns, for this subject seems too sensitive to handle with merely a raven."
Maester Sarwin bowed. "As you wish, Ser Kevan. Will that be all?"
Kevan nodded. "Sleep well, Maester."
With a bow to Gerion Lannister, the maester left the room and headed back to his own quarters. His stomach still felt tense, and it was tempting for the maester to give himself something to help him sleep. Perhaps some essence of nightshade, for Sarwin knew milk of the poppy could permanently destroy one's mind if used too frequently to relieve aches and pains. It has happened to wounded knights in combat all too often to be ignored as a mere coincidence.
In any case, Sarwin knew he would have no choice but to see this through. Perhaps he was worrying too much - after all, Jason studying High Valyrian alongside Tyrion would help the brothers bond even further than they already had. And since Jaime was having difficulties with his eyesight, having two younger brothers so skilled with tongues and words would be especially useful to House Lannister's interests.
Yet even as Sarwin put himself into bed, he couldn't get the feeling out of his stomach that something with instructing Jason Hill just wasn't right. He could only hope he was wrong.