Ser Raymont Baratheon was a knight without peer in The Seven Kingdoms, bar but a few. At the young age of nine and ten, he was the victor of tourneys held throughout the realm, winning his first tourney at five and teen, that had been held for one of Prince Joffrey's name days. He was the youngest of the four Baratheon brothers, but he enjoyed a freedom that none of them did, as he traveled the southron kingdoms, journeying to melees and tourneys all throughout the kingdoms.

Thus, he was dreading the fact that he would be forced to return to the capitol for the return of the court to King's Landing, with the new Hand of the King, Eddard Stark. There would be a tourney in his honor, and as it was being held in King's Landing, and there would be no tourneys held elsewhere, Raymont would be forced to compete in it, and of course present himself to the rest of the court at King's Landing. A dreadful ordeal, in Raymont's eyes.

Currently, Raymont was in Sunspear, after participating in a tourney to celebrate Princess Arianne's name day, where he had won after barely besting the Bastard of Godsgrace, Ser Daemon Sand. It had been a massive melee, that had primarily featured Dornish spears and short blades, where Raymont's massive six-foot great sword, forged by master smith, Tobho Mott, had given him a large advantage. Raymont was himself a head taller than six feet, and was as well-built as King Robert had been in his youth, and wielded the sword as easily as Robert had wielded his gigantic warhammer.

The winnings from tourney after tourney had begun to pile up for Raymont, and the tourney at Sunspear was just one more of several dozen. He had a personal attendance of three dozen men, knights from the Storm Lands, their squires, and his own squire, Raymund Connington, the heir to Griffon's Keep. Chief among his company of knights were Ser Gladden Wylde, Ser Alyn Estermont, Ser Rolland Storm, Ser Donnel Swann, Ser Robar Royce and Ser Emmon Cuy, and all of them were formidable knights and warriors, and honorable company as they traveled the kingdoms. As they departed Sunspear, Ser Daemon Sand accepted Raymont's offer to join their company, and became the first Dornishman to do so, joining men from The Vale, The Stormlands, and The Reach.

They took the journey to King's Landing by boat, sailing from Sunspear and arriving little more than a week later in King's Landing, the day before the Hand's Tourney, as the smallfolk were calling it. Awaiting them at the docks were Lord Yohn Royce, Robar's father, and his brother Andar. Bryce Caron, Rolland Storm's true born brother, and Balon Swann, Donnel's younger brother who joined the kingsguard, were also waiting for them. As Raymont and his companions departed the boat, he took a moment to look at his companions, as they greeted their family with handshakes or embraces, thinking on how his own family that was present in King's Landing had not even bothered, though he had sent a letter to Robert and Renly both.

Standing to the side, Raymont felt out of place as servants busied themselves unloading belongings, weapons and armor, as his servants and those of the Red Keep attempted to work together, while stable hands led the horses on the long trek to the stables. Raymont whistled to get the attention of his closest companions, Gladden Wylde, and Rolland Storm, and grabbed the arm of Daemon Sand as they passed him, standing aimlessly. The bastard was one of the best swords to be found in Dorne, but was clearly out of place already, as Dorne was a much different place. They were in King's Landing, and Raymont had a fat purse of gold dragons to spend, and they had an entire day before the tourney began.

When morning came, Raymont awoke in a large bed, in a very plain room, clearly an inn, with no idea how he had gotten there. Shifting out of the bed, Raymont realized that he was as naked as the day he was born, and that there were in fact three other people who were passed out on the bed. Two of them were women that Raymont would never know the name of, while the other was Daemon Sand, his sandy hair covering his face, where he had fallen asleep on rather generously sized pillows. Raymont woke him up, much to his complaints, though the two of them were dressed and leaving the inn within five minutes, as the women still slept.

Running damage control, Raymont counted that he had managed to hang onto about half of the tourney winnings from Sunspear, which was more than he had expected. It was still early in the day, and though the two of them could not recall where in seven hells that Gladden was, they vaguely remembered him falling prey to a brothel woman, leaving the two women that had accompanied Raymont and Daemon to bed. 'All said and done, not a bad night to get ready for a tourney.'

It took an hour for the two to find their way to the Red Keep, and to find out where their assigned quarters and belongings were. Apparently, Raymont and his entire company were given quarters all next to each other, no small task for three dozen men. As they passed the rooms of the others, only about half of the rooms were occupied, meaning that most of the other men had gone out to enjoy the special quality of King's Landing: the cheapest brothels.

Wherever the men had gone, and no matter what kind of night that they may have had, within two hours they were all assembled at the stables, in full armor, and mounting their horses. It did not take long to ride out to the tourney grounds, though theirs was one of the last major parties to arrive, all 19 knights, with 18 squires between them, only Daemon not having his own squire as of yet. Many times, Raymont's brother Robert complained about how he could not simply get up and join their company, and as everyone began to prepare themselves for the tourney, and Ray spotted his brother already seated to await the beginning of the jousts, that he would be complaining once more.

Things were a blur, as Ray was told of his position in the lists, and that his first opponent would be the victor of Harwin of Winterfell against Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard. The victor was Ser Meryn, who was easily one of the weakest members of the Kingsguard, and Raymont unseated him in 2 passes. Then, Raymont seated himself beside his entire company in the stands, seated away from most Lords and Ladies, while each man had to get up to take their turn in the lists. Daemon had little skill with lance, and he was bested by Ser Loras Tyrell, who Raymont had heard had beaten Jaime Lannister in a smaller tourney at King's Landing, while he was away in Dorne. Meanwhile, Barriston Selmy unseated Donnel and Alyn, before falling to the kingslayer, in turn. Gregor Clegane defeated Gladden in a sadly one-sided joust, before Gregor killed the newly knighted Ser Hugh, which caused a recession of the jousts.

Seated next to Daemon, who had removed his armor after falling in his joust, Raymont noticed something that seemed peculiar, "That man, Ser Hugh, was the squire for Lord Jon Arryn before he passed. Who knighted him, and why did the man have a brand new set of armor?"

Before Daemon could even comment, however, Raymund was yelling at Raymont to prepare himself for the more intensive part of his day. It was a very large tournament, and as such, Raymont faced Ser Balon Swann, his friend Ser Robar Royce, Lord Beric Dondarrion, and finally faced Sandor Clegane, the Hound. That was the only match that had proven to be a true challenge to Raymont, though he was eventually the winner after eleven lances were broken between the two of them.

Leaving for the day, Raymont could not but help to complain, "Over one hundred and forty contestants in that damned joust, and I couldn't have even have been matched against any one that was really fun."

Daemon laughed at that, "How many spears did you break against The Hound before he went down? Seven? Eight?" He was riding beside Ray while most of the others were with family that had arrived for the tourney, "I would dare to say that Raymont Baratheon struggled to beat Sandor Clegane, not even a knight! Now how can our company follow such a man, that struggles to beat a man that is not even a knight?"

Raymont scoffed at Daemon's mocking, "Daemon, you fell-"

Raymont was quickly cut off, though, "To the damned Knight of FLOWERS, I think I would know. But I didn't see you face off against the Knight of Flowers, either! And first, you have to unseat Jaime Lannister, and hope that the Tyrell boy manages to beat the Mountain Who Rides, of all people."

Sensing the opportunity to make a gamble, Raymont laughed with him, "One hundred gold dragons says that I unseat Jaime Lannister, that Loras Tyrell beats The Mountain, and then I unseat the Tyrell flower."

Daemon grinned, "Fair deal, Baratheon, I feel as if I will be 100 gold dragons richer, tomorrow."

Silence reigned between them, until they rode back into King's Landing through the River Gate, and a thought struck Raymont, "Daemon, it just occurred to me that it is now sundown, and I did not see Gladden at the tourney. I haven't seen him since he left us at some point last night, actually."

Daemon shrugged, "Likely, you are worried over nothing at all. Gladden is his own man, he can choose whether or not he goes to a tourney."

"Yes, he can make his own choices, but it is strange that he disappeared as he did, without word. Strange enough that I would call it suspicious, and something worth worrying over." Raymont was not the eldest among his own company, and he was not even the most prestigious, though as brother to the King, and an outstanding knight, that was changing. But all the same, he felt responsible for each person in his party, knight, squire or otherwise. So as far as Ser Raymont of House Baratheon was concerned, something needed to be done to locate his friend.

That something ended up being the organizing of search parties formed among the knights and squires of Raymont's company. Four hours later, they found him, though it was not how Raymont would have liked to have him found. It was Ser Emmon Cuy who found him, with his squire, a fifteen year old, the sun of some guard at Sunhouse that Emmon was friends with. It was his squire that Emmon sent to find Raymont, and tell him where he was.

Ser Gladden Wylde was one of the best knights in the company, and was the best with a war lance, though Raymont was more proficient with the longer tourney lances. Was, because his throat had been slit, and he had been left for dead in a ditch. Best as Raymont could tell, someone slit his throat while he was leaving the brothel, and killed him before he could react. He still had his purse on him, and his sword was still sheathed when he had been attacked.

Raymont had raged and cursed when he had arrived to see his friend, dead, and had nearly beaten to death an incompetent gold cloak who simply shrugged and said that nothing could be done. He made his way into Maegor's holdfast, burst into his eldest brother's rooms, and berated the half-drunk, half-asleep King, about his worthless gold cloaks. That had been a mistake, as Robert was completely enraged at Raymont for waking him from his drunken sleep, and had done nothing but tell him to piss off, and to come back in the morning.

He should have expected nothing more from his fat, whoremonger brother, poor excuse for a lord, let alone a king. Stannis would have been reliable, and sought justice for the man who would have once been his own bannerman, but Stannis had retreated to Dragonstone, and left the court. Raymont did not, and would not speak to Renly, about anything at all. So that left one man that Raymont could turn to, Eddard Stark, who's tourney he was fighting in after all.

It was very late by the time that Raymont found himself in the solar, in the Tower of the Hand, staring at the solemn Lord Ned Stark, as he set aside a letter he was reading, to indicate for Raymont to be seated. Instead of immediately addressing the issue, Eddard began with mostly empty pleasantries, as had to be expected of the Hand of the King. He expressed his gladness to finally meet Robert's youngest brother, the only knight among the four, and smiled easily at Raymont, which surprised Raymont, though he rebuffed Lord Stark's small talk.

"I am not here for pleasantries and small talk, Lord Stark. I am here because at some point in this last day, my friend Ser Gladden Wylde was murdered, and had his throat slit after leaving a house of pleasure. The murderer took none of his gold, nor the castle forged steel sword at his side, and killed him simply to kill him. House Wylde is small, and loyal to House Baratheon to the core, with no enemies. The only reason that anyone would have to kill Gladden, is because he is and was my best friend among my company of knights."

Eddard was slow and calculating with his words, "Why would you think that someone would murder your friend just to get to you? You have a suspect in mind already, then."

Raymont nodded, "Yes, I do. Three and a half years ago, when I was still only fifteen, and recently knighted, I participated in my first tourney. I accidentally killed Ser Horas Redwyne in a melee, where I struck him upon his helm too hard, and he dropped dead. A terrible thing, but his twin brother has sworn vengeance upon me, and in private, told me he would kill my own elder brother one day. I scoffed and told him I hold no love for Robert, Stannis or Renly, and he stormed away in his grief. A cutthroat killing my closest friend, the day I arrive in King's Landing is no coincidence, Lord Stark."

Eddard was silent for a few moments, as he contemplated what Raymont had told him, "All that you have told me is not enough to convict anyone in a trial, let alone the heir to a noble house, Ser. But you must know that, so why did you come to me? Surely Robert or Renly would be more suited to the task of getting justice for your friend? Robert is King, and Renly is Master of Laws."

Raymont frowned, a rare thing for his usually smiling face, "I went to Robert, and the oaf was drunk and asleep already, and that Lannister kingsguard, Meryn Trant, let me in without even a warning. I do not speak to Renly."

Eddard was surprised by Raymont's dismissal of Renly, "Surely though, they are your brothers and would help you, for the sake of justice?"

Raymont laughed dryly at that, "The only sort of justice that King Robert cares about anymore is the kind other people do the work for, surely you know that by now. And Renly is more a boy than a man, extravagant and too friendly by a half with the Tyrells, who are close kin to the Redwynes. Lady Ollena was born a Redwyne, and her eldest daughter married her nephew, Paxter."

Nodding slowly, Eddard asked, "But what is it that you would have me do, Ser? All you have are suspicions and accusations."

Raymont adjusted in his chair, straightening himself out. In that moment, Eddard observed his sea blue eyes, dark black hair, strong jawline, muscular build and how he seemed every bit the warrior Robert used to be. "I beat a gold cloak half to death for refusing to help me find the man who killed Gladden, and that man was apparently Jonos Slynt, captain of the city watch. When I win the joust tomorrow, I want you to name me as the new commander of the city watch."

Now Eddard understood, what it was that had brought Ser Raymont Baratheon to his solar, just hours before midnight. "Okay, Ser Raymont, I agree, and afterward, I will do all I can to help you find justice. In return, I ask that you swear to loyally serve Robert and I."

That was agreeable, and Raymont nodded his head swiftly, "I do so swear to serve you, and my brother Robert, loyally. The gold cloaks are a pitiful excuse, and useless mostly. I will reform them to be a better, more honorable brotherhood."

With that, Raymont took his leave of Lord Eddard Stark, now someone he counted as his first powerful friend and ally in King's Landing. Now he just had to win the tournament, the next morning.

Author's Note: Another story idea, and this one I like a lot. I started it with nothing more than the base idea of a fourth Baratheon brother. It grew out of my idea that that boy would be a mix somewhere between Robert and Renly, with a bit of Stannis' honor as well. He was a squire who became a prominent tourney knight, and built a rather considerable wealth, as he won tourney after tourney. The Baratheons have always been the most fearsome warriors in Westeros, and Raymont is no exception, he is a brilliant warrior, and better tempered than Robert, who was a man of passions.

This chapter totally wrote itself, as all I had planned was a Baratheon knight, with a company of fellow knights and squires, similar to Edmure Tully's group that toured the Riverlands, though Raymont's group goes to all the best tourneys, where he or one of his knights is always victorious. I ended up starting the story with the tourney of the Hand, as it seemed most fitting, where he would make an impact. I'm excited for this one, and I cannot wait to hear what you, the readers, think of the idea. I have never seen a fourth, younger baratheon brother, only legitimate children of Robert, and a bastard of Steffon Baratheon.