The start of something I might regret

"....And Barrick says that although the harvest went well, they weren't able to make the most use out of the wheat due to a lack of equipment as well as the fact that the fire had burned a portion of the field, he also mentions that the lynchets are nearing completion and will be ready for the next sowing. My father, Lord Falwell also wishes to offer his thanks and is grateful that you have enabled him and his people to eat without worry Cerion." Monty announced, reading off of a small scroll of parchment that he had pulled from the inner pocket of his jacket. After meeting Monty for the first time since the incident, I designated him as sort of liaison between Casterly Rock and the agricultural project in House Falwell's land due to his familiarity and relations with the locals.

The crops that were sown on Barrick's farm had matured and been harvested in the months I had been away, the results were normal for the most part and that was what I was expecting, the benefits would start to show themselves after the next couple of harvests. Barrick's farm consists of four fields available to grow crops, with the other fields containing livestock those four fields were originally growing wheat and then brassicas type vegetables will be sown in the next few days before moving onto legumes.

The four fields were a similar size to one another and made up nearly 11 acres in total, though that should increase to 14 with lynchets. Around 347 bushels were able to be harvested, which is in line with the previous harvests of Barrick's farm, that is around 31.5 bushels per acre and that number should increase within the next few years.

"Thank you Monty." I tell him, "For now I want you to stay here with me at Casterly Rock while I will draft a letter to be sent to your father explaining the change in circumstances. I also want you to join me and Ser Benedict with my lessons." For if I must suffer why can't he. In all seriousness my lessons in sword fighting were going well in the last two months, Ser Benedict said I had talent and that my lack of a formal teacher and my procrastination of training were mostly the reasons for lack of skill with a sword.

Progress with the Bessemer was going slow to say the least, the sheer amount of materials needed, especially steel, was staggering. Lannisport is famed for having some of the best goldsmiths in the world, unfortunately making jewellery and ornamental items does not translate to producing a massive structure of steel weighing several tons. Around 25,000 gold dragons have been used already and despite that amount barely putting a dent in the Lannister fortune, we weren't even around the halfway point yet.

However I am eternally grateful to all the gods that I can think of for the birth of Jogg Hill, the man that father recommended to me. Jogg Hill is a bastard born of an Ibbenese whaler and a whore, his naturally short stature and Tolkien Dwarf-like features he inherited from his unknown father. The Ibbenese of Ib are said to have a natural talent with craftsmanship and are fierce rivals with Qohor in terms of steel production in the east, only the much more lucrative business of whaling stopping them from that goal.

Jogg truly was a blessing, decades of shipbuilding and metallurgy has given him a wealth of experience that has enabled the Bessemer to even get this far in production. When I first showed him the schematics of the forge he immediately took it out of my hands and noted potential improvements, his overbearing personality and barking voice had his apprentices and other well-renowned smiths straight into action, I doubt that the project would have even started production without him.

Father had wanted the Bessemer to be built within one of the empty caverns deep within the Rock, which I thought was fine as building it in the open would be a risk of security as neither of us want other Lords making their own variant of a Bessemer. However father also wanted the Bessemer to operate within that cavern as it would be easy to guard and a lower chance of spies finding out about it, I argued that vents would need to be made to make sure the workers don't suffocate due to the smoke and even then the Rock would be covered in smoke as it rises towards terraces and the ramparts. We came to a compromise that the Bessemer would be moved to a secure part of Lannisport in parts and will then be assembled there.

The Bessemer would almost be built in an assembly line fashion, certain workers only know how to make certain parts with only me, father, Jogg and Ser Rylen knowing the whole schematic. This was done to limit the amount of information that could be given if one of the workers were either kidnapped, blackmailed or wanted to make money. Father has also had some of the most important and crucial workers and their families placed in secure and well-guarded apartments in Lannisport.

House Martell's reparations for my abduction had arrived as well. A small group of three galleys made its way into Lannisport's harbour with sails of orange and a golden spear piercing a red sun. Normally important guests arriving via ship would dock within the port of Casterly Rock, a well-defended cavern that could hold half the Lannister fleet, however whether they didn't due to distrust or simply not knowing, I don't know.

My diligent uncle, Ser Kevan was there to greet them as father refused to and I didn't even know about it at the time. The Martell envoy was an unknown cousin of Doran Martell who had seemed pulled the short straw, there was rumours that the Lord of Sunspear's brother, Oberyn Martell would travel to Lannisport but I suppose that having the moniker 'the Red Viper' means that your skillset probably doesn't include being an emissary.

The reparations that House Martell had sent consisted of: 40,000 Gold dragons, bolts of silk, bags of spices and other expensive miscellaneous items that have been transported from Essos, a small team of Sand steeds along with a short spear made out of Castle-forged steel decorated with carved suns and lions. As I was the one who suffered, I will most likely receive most of these items. Overall Its safe to say that I am pretty rich.

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"The Maid brought him forth a girl....eyes like deep blue pools....declared that he would have her for his bride....de her fertile, and the Crone foretold that she would bear the king four-and-forty mighty sons. The Warrior gave strength to their arms, whilst the Smith wrought for each a suit of iron plates." Tyrion finished as I stare at him from behind in the doorway, I had went to investigated the noise I heard from Tyrion's room when I was walking past and found him reading a passage out of the Seven-Pointed Star, the Faith's equivalent of the bible.

"I didn't take you for a pious person Tyrion." I announce, making Tyrion jump a little as he rushes to hide his book, "Why are you reading the Seven-Pointed Star? Septon Ormell had us memorise it as soon as we could read". Tyrion still had is back to with his head down "Because I want to become the High Septon."

I blink, caught off guard from his admission, "Why?" I ask confused as to why he would want to swear off the enjoyable things in life and become a Septon. I don't think I remember him mentioning that he wanted to become High Septon in the books or show.

"What else can I do?" he moped "I can't fight, can't travel as father won't let me, can't become a Maester because the Citadel won't except a dwarf and I can't become Lord of Casterly Rock nor any other place."

I frown, even more confused by what he said "What do you mean by that? I'm sure that any Lord would be grateful to have someone with a brain like yours as a good-son." I say as I kneel down next him, both at a similar height as he sits on a chair.

Tyrion just shakes his head as a few tears fall down his face, "No, no they wont. Father tried to offer to me to both House Royce and Hightower and they both refused, insulted as they were offered a half-man for good-son. He even tried to offer me as a husband to Delena Florent," My face goes blank whilst trying to remember who that is "The one the king deflowered on his brothers wedding bed." Tyrion supplied with a small smile, amused that I couldn't remember. "Besides, if I become High Septon I'll become taller as it's said that the crystal crown adds a foot to ones height." We both chuckle at that.

We both sit in a silence that is unfamiliar with the both of us in a room together, "Well fuck them." I say as Tyrion's eyes turn towards me, "Fuck the Citadel, it's their loss anyway and fuck all those women who are too blind to see you, they don't know that they are missing out on the most kindest person I have ever met. Stay here with me, I'm going to need someone I can rely on when I become lord of the Rock and I couldn't think of anyone else I would want than you." I tell him as tears are free falling down both of our faces.

"If you really want to become High Septon then I wont stop you but I don't think you need a crystal crown to make you any taller, someone once told me that 'ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow'. I don't want you to swear off things that you haven't even experienced yet." I stop and stare at him "Actually I got an idea, come with me." I stand up and head for the door, turning around to see Tyrion looking at me as if I'm an idiot.

"Where are we going?" He asks, I just reply with a grin "To have some fun."

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This is my first time writing a semi-emotional scene, tell me how I done. I do understand that some people may find it cringey but I don't really mind, I personally think I done an alright job.