Chapter 13: ... Eight Years Later...

“It is too tight.”

Jon Stark tugged at the front of his doublet and grimaced. He was altogether uncomfortable when he was outside of his work clothes.

For all his trouble, across from him was the one man who would offer him no solace: Tywin Lannister. A look of profound disappointment was outlined upon his features.

“Your clothing would likely fit better if you had been ready and changed outside before we arrived rather than in the carriage,” the Lord of Casterly Rock admonished. “Instead, we find you playing in the mud.”

Jon did not look abashed or away from the man who warded him for five of the last eight years. From the ages of seven to eleven, Jon spent his time at the Rock, by Tywin’s side. He learned much in those years. Then, he spent a year at Winterfell with his half-siblings before returning to the Rock. Once there, he finished most of his education with Tywin in a year as well as most of his bow, sword, shield, and lance work with either Jaime or Barristan the Bold. After which, he was given a hastily made castle west of Torrhen’s Square.

For the last two years of his life, in preparation for winter, Jon had been preparing his town for what was to come. However, autumn had not yet come, and when it did, they might have two or three years of the season before a long and harsh winter was upon them. Jon needed to use the time wisely.

As such, there was, admittedly, mud on his boots.

“There is a difference between playing in the mud and working in it, Lord Tywin. I should expect you, of all people, to respect the difference.”

Jon’s words were self-assured. His lessons had been thorough, and he had been a diligent student, so the work paid off.

“Should I and is there?” Tywin wondered, not looking up from a small stack of parchment.

“Yes.”

Tywin’s eyebrow rose, and he lowered the parchment.

“Show your cause, Jon.”

Jon sighed in mild irritation. While he loathed Tywin’s exercises, he had come to be rather adept at that.

“The store houses for the grain and fur are not finished. Before I left, I wanted to make certain the roofs were properly sealed.”

“You have workers for that,” Tywin countered quickly.

“Workers make mistakes,” Jon responded just as fast.

“Then, you might have inspected the worker sooner,” Tywin said briskly.

For a long moment, Jon stared at his mentor.

“My lord, I do believe that it was you who taught me I want something done properly, I should do it myself.”

“I did,” Tywin said slowly. “Hmm so I did. While you know I enjoy an individual who is thorough, I do prefer that you are punctual, especially for such occasions that are important to my house or yours.”

Jon opened his mouth to defend himself before simply closing it. When discussions with Tywin were pushed into a corner, the vaunted altar of reasoned rhetoric always received the final word.

Jaime had said nothing in his seat beside his father. Upon his face was a smile, reflecting his increasing amusement from one of the many exchanges he had witnessed between Jon and Tywin.

“Careful, Jon,” Jaime said with a smile. “We both know you’re approaching the point in the conversation where Father will explain that you are simultaneously too involved in your work and not involved enough.”

Jon turned toward him.

“Is there a winning answer?”

“You know there’s not when he’s like this,” Jaime said with a smirk

“Jaime,” the Warden of the West warned.

Jaime returned his father’s admonishment with an exhausted look.

“He’s being productive, which is what you taught him to be. He’s in the carriage. He’s not late. Let’s be somewhat grateful.”

Tywin looked from Jaime and then back to Jon.

“People of note are coming, Jaime. From Robert to Barristan and obviously the Starks are hosting us. This is a monumental moment for Jon in the North, and a statement to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Today must go well.”

“I believe your former-ward is aware,” Jaime countered

“If Jon is meant to rise to a position of nobility on today ... his sixteenth name day, I might add ... then he should be prepared and punctual or else he is doing a disservice to those that have put faith in him.”

“And if the grain stores are unfinished,” Jaime interjected, “You will say Jon has no foresight and has neglected the very work he has spent years preparing. If today is Jon’s big day, allow him to be what you helped him become.”

Tywin slowly turned toward his son before letting out a long, defeated sigh.

“Very well,” Tywin said slowly. “You have done good work, Jon. Of that, I have to confess. You have acquitted yourself well, and I want you to appear to be all that you are before the North as well as the king and those around him.”

Jon blinked in surprise.

“That is the closest thing to an apology that he will offer you, Jon,” Jaime said.

“Oh. I know. I am cherishing this.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed at the casual demeanor.

“Jon. Are there other concerns with what you are building?”

The young man finally finished fastening his doublet before checking his waist and pants.

“Everything should be fine, provided I am allowed to keep my bookkeeper in the North.”

Tywin’s expression soured immediately at the mention of this supposed bookkeeper.

“No. Absolutely not. It is a terrible idea!”

Jon’s smile widened when he saw that he was under Tywin’s skin.