Game Of Thrones : Reborn as a Lannister

AN :

If we hit top 25 I will release another chapter tomorrow.

In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.

...

( Ser Clegane POV )

Most days in Sunspear for Ser Clegane were the same.

First, he'd wake up about two hours before the sun rose.

Once he'd freshened up, he'd pray to the Seven, Especially the Warrior and the Mother. One for him, and one for his children.

Then he'd have breakfast alone in his chamber.

Shortly after he finished breakfast, he'd go accompany the Young Lannister, who by then had probably woken up, to stand outside the room while he had breakfast with the Martells.

After breakfast, he'd escort Callum to the workshop outside the city walls, and be told he wasn't needed in the workshop once Callum had arrived at the building.

For the rest of the day, he'd return to the palace, practice in the yard, have lunch and maintain his gear until the time came to escort Callum back to the palace.

Then he'd Stand Guard while Callum had dinner with the Martells.

He'd Have a bit of dinner himself once Callum retired to his chambers.

He'd Pray again.

Then finally he'd Sleep.

The routine suited him just fine. It was uncomplicated, simple, and plain, but that well described him as a man. He lacked the ambition of his father, who had risen from small-folk to landed knight by serving House Lannister well as a kennelmaster. He had no such aspiration to rise in station. He wanted to serve loyally, fight well when necessary, and raise his children to be good men.

Unfortunately, young Callum Lannister wasn't one to accept such mediocrity. Not when he had his eyes on you, and Ser Clegane couldn't exactly dodge him. From offers to teach him letters, to asking if he'd eventually like to be a Lord Tempor, the young Lannister must have seen in him whatever he saw in that mute Ser Payne because he simply couldn't resist offering all sorts of things. The boy had even offered to have all of his children taught their letters. Ser Clegane hardly thought that was necessary either, especially since Gregor and Sandor would-be knights in their own right.

It didn't really annoy him, since the boy was clearly trying to reward him for good service, but it simply wasn't needed, and his answer was always a resolute "No thank you". Still, it made things a bit awkward between them.

Thankfully, not so much that the boy didn't trust him. That was quite obvious with this most recent tasking.

"So I'm sposed to just stand here with my visor down and listen while you talk to these men?" That was a job that he was more than capable of doing. Practically speaking, it was what he did all the time. "And just listen to try to figure out if they're up to some mischief?"

"I'm mostly worried they'll try to cheat me or otherwise take advantage of me, given my youth," Callum confirmed. "I appreciate that Prince Doran held up his end of the bargain, but just because his contacts across the Narrow Sea and in the summer islands recommended these men, it doesn't mean that I can trust them." The boy frowned, twirling his curly golden hair around one finger. "Frankly I expect half or more of them will be scoundrels. They came to Westeros looking to get rich, I doubt they care by what means."

"If they do then Lord Tywin will have their heads." Ser Clegane replied shortly, then paused. "Or perhaps Prince Doran will, they came at his invitation after all."

"Likely, but my Father's reputation is not so fearsome beyond the seas, and Prince Doran is not yet well established, I imagine many men would be willing to push their luck." Callum frowned. "A shame, I'll be more than happy to make the honest and competent ones rich men with fine houses."

"Aye, but they don't know that do they?" Clegane nodded. "Very well milord, I'll listen carefully."

"Thank you," Callum said. "I'll tell the servants to bring the first man in, you can go stand in that corner.

Clegane nodded and lowered his visor, going to stand at attention as the first man came in. He was a strange-looking man with nut brown skin, black eyes, and black hair. His nose was quite large, and he wore his hair in woven braids down the back of his head, and there were small brightly colored feathers tied in the tips of them. Callum greeted him respectfully despite his odd looks, so Clegane thought he was probably less odd wherever he came from.

"Good morning." Callum gave the man a short nod. "You are the man from Koj yes? Xantri Molo?"

"I am! Molo is me" The man said rather jubilantly, "And you are Prince Callum? I had heard that were looking for shipbuilders yes?" The man suddenly reached forward, and Clegane's hand shot to his sword as he grabbed the sides of Callum's face and kissed the boy on the forehead.

"Release him!" Clegane shouted, drawing his blade but Callum's hand shot up, stopping him in his tracks. "Milord?"

"It's fine Ser Clegane, probably," Callum said, shaking his head. "I imagine that's a greeting in the Summer Islands?"

The brown-skinned man blinked and he nodded hurriedly, glancing over at Clegane's still-drawn sword. "Ah-oh yes yes, I did not mean anything ill by it. It is customary to kiss heads of children!" The man called Molo waved his hands.

"Right. Sheathe your sword Ser Clegane. Molo, you may wish to be less… physical when greeting Westerosi, we touch each other much less than your people do I think." Callum diffused the situation and Clegane returned to his place. The Lannister boy had some food brought in by the servants and then began talking about more important things to the man, Molo. "I understand that you worked on the Swan Ships which your people are famous for," Callum asked the man sitting across from him. "Is that true?"

"It is True, yes. I have worked in the shipyards since I left the temples of love when boy. I am skilled and very quick working." Molo nodded. "I have… understandings of the carving large pieces and the roping of sails." He reached back and scratched his neck. "I am sorry no, my understanding of Westerosi is only trade tongue."

"I can tell." Callum nodded. "Let me know if you can't understand anything I ask, please."

Molo nodded. "I will yes."

Callum steepled his fingers in front of his face. "Do you think that if you were put in charge of a shipyard- a Westerosi shipyard, that you could direct men who only knew how to build Westerosi ships to build a swanship?"

Molo blinked, then stroked his chin. "I could-no, no I could not do that." He shook his head. "Many parts- too much to do. Westerosi ships are terrible-only some better than slaver cities." He shook his head fervently. "You people like oars too much."

"Understandable," Callum said. "But I don't need something built to be exactly the same as a swan ship, what I want is a ship that can sail upwind better than a cog can." He paused a moment. "You said you knew how to ropes sails right?"

"What does right have to do with sails?" Molo asked, and Callum blinked.

"No right as in- I was asking if what you said earlier was correct. Do you know how to rope the sails on a swanship?"

"Oh, yes, yes I can rope sails very well." Molo nodded. "Could teach men to rope sails, much simpler than mast, and swan and all other things."

"Do you think you could rope the sails on something like this?" Callum took one of his notebooks, which had been on the table beside him, and presented it to the man. Clegane couldn't quite see the picture, but the Summer Islander seemed to stiffen and focus, leaning in to look at the book.

"Is still ugly boat…" he muttered, "but yes, could rope sails. Same type sails as swan ship, mostly, better than Westerosi sails."

"Good." Callum nodded. "I'll find other workers to figure out the hull shape. You'll be doing the rigging." Callum paused. "That is, provided that you understood the other part of my requirements. Did you come willing to convert?"

"Oh! Yes yes, of course!" Molo nodded. "I follow Gods of Island I'm on, much easier that way, Molo will worship seven Gods of Westerosi."

"Good, though it's one God with seven faces, you'll have to remember that." Callum chided lightly, and Clegane smiled at the entire exchange. He'd heard the Septons were getting in a huff that Callum was blessed by the seven, but seeing the boy finding converts for the faith was still a pleasant surprise. Clegane never would have thought to do that himself, certainly not with summer Islanders or Essosi.

"I- when you say Seven Faces-" Molo raised his hand.

"It's complicated." Callum said, "and I'll be happy to discuss theology more with you at a later time. Along with the precise terms of your employment." The boy smiled. "Please, return to your quarters and rest, I'll speak to you further tomorrow."

"Ah-yes I will do so." Molo nodded. "Thank you for your loving." He said, walking out the door with a wave. Clegane just shook his head. Hiring people who could barely speak the language seemed more trouble than it was worth. Molo was a strange character all around.

Callum talked to about a dozen other strange foreigners over the course of the day, typically in much the same manner. He was looking for some special skill or knowledge from each of them, a glassworker from Braavos, a seamstress from Lys (possibly the most attractive woman Clegane had ever laid eyes on), a potter of all trades that had come all the way from Qarth, an apprentice blacksmith from Qohor, a stocky bearded navigator from Ibben. They were a strange and off-putting group of characters in Clegane's eyes. Only one of them was even Westerosi, a graying man named Qyburn whom Callum questioned on his medical knowledge. Clegane wasn't sure what Callum wanted him for, surely he had the Rock's old Maester for that sort of thing.

In the end, while the lot of them were strange, only the young Qohori blacksmith and the Volantine mummer gave Clegane a truly bad feeling. The Qohori man talked about the need for slaves to run a true blacksmithy, which he supposed wasn't too surprising for an Essosi. Still revoltingly evil though, if he had the chance outside of guest right he'd beat the man and leave him in an alley. The Mummer was just a liar and a flatterer. To Clegane it seemed like every word he said was little more than air. He recommended Callum dismiss both of them at once.

Callum agreed, which made Clegane happy. The boy said he'd dismiss the pyromancer as well, apparently because he wasn't as impressive as the ones in King's Landing or some such, which left nine strange artisans of various sorts eating into Callum's allowance for the moment.

Well, eight strange artisans and a troubadour.

Clegane still wasn't sure about that one.

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