Year: 281 AC (2 years before Robert's Rebellion, 18 years before the War of the Five Kings)
Marcus Lannister – Age 17
The cavern halls of Castamere still smelled of ash and rot. Old banners, shredded by time and damp, clung to the walls like ghosts unwilling to leave. The Reynes had died here, their pride drowned in fire and rubble. Now, it was Marcus's turn to breathe life into these forsaken halls.
He stood on the balcony overlooking the mine entrance, parchment in hand. Below, the first of his settlers were arriving—wagons loaded with tools, seeds, timber, and families wide-eyed at the cavern fortress that would soon be their home.
Five hundred and fifty souls. A fraction of a true lordship, but more than enough to plant the seed of something greater.
Marcus's quill scratched across the parchment as he divided them:
50 miners (with families → ~200).
20 smiths and craftsmen (families → ~80).
50 farming families (~250).
30 laborers and servants (~40).
Total = ~570 people.
A small village hiding beneath a ruined castle. Barely enough to feed themselves, let alone defend stone walls.
"Still… better than nothing."
He glanced to the pouch heavy with coin that rested on the table beside him. Five thousand gold dragons—the price of Tywin's patience. It had taken weeks of carefully crafted words, long silences, and an appeal not to glory but to pragmatism.
Flashback – Casterly Rock
Tywin's gaze had been sharp, golden, and unyielding as ever.
"You would waste gold and men on a tomb, Marcus?" Tywin's voice was like steel dragged over stone.
Marcus did not flinch. "Not waste. Invest. The Reynes were crushed, but Castamere sits on silver veins that still run deep. You left it to rot. I can make it sing again."
Tywin's fingers had drummed once against the table. His other children would have squirmed under that silence, but Marcus met his father's stare, calm and steady.
"And if you fail?"
Marcus allowed himself the faintest smile. "Then you can say I was foolish, and Castamere will remain your trophy of victory. Nothing lost. But if I succeed, the Lannisters gain strength without your hand ever moving."
It was pride wrapped in caution, and Tywin had seen it. At length, he gave a curt nod. "Five thousand. No more. Do not shame me."
Back in Castamere
Marcus tucked the memory away. His father had given him rope—enough to hang himself or to weave into a banner.
"Ser Rodrik," Marcus called, turning to the grizzled knight who had once served his uncle Kevan. Tywin had lent him as both warden and watcher.
"My lord?"
"The miners are to be housed closest to the caverns. Their work begins tomorrow. The smiths will have the east chambers; I want furnaces burning within the week. Farmers will need land cleared outside the main entrance—soil will be stubborn, but it must be done."
Rodrik bowed and moved to obey, his voice bellowing orders to waiting stewards.
Marcus remained, gaze drifting over the people unloading their lives onto Reyne bones. He could see their doubt, their fear. Some whispered of curses, others of Lannister cruelty. But they had also seen the gold he paid them with. They would work.
"Five hundred souls, five thousand dragons, and the ruins of Castamere. That is my beginning. But beginnings are fragile. To rise, I will need more. More mouths, more hands, more backs to carry the weight of my ambition."
He folded the parchment and set it aside, his thoughts turning to the future.
"If I am to outgrow my father's shadow, this cannot merely be a mine or a fortress. It must become a heart that draws people to it. And for that, I must learn how to feed not hundreds, but thousands."
For the first time since his rebirth, Marcus allowed himself a quiet laugh.
"The North has its wolves. The Reach has its harvests. The Vale has its knights. The Riverlands have their rivers. And what shall the West remember of me? Not the Lion. No… they will remember the man who raised a song from silence."
The young lord of Castamere turned, cloak whispering behind him, as the first fires of industry began to crackle to life in the darkness of the ruins.