A Doe in a Lion's Den

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Chapter 7: A Flower can Beat a Mountain than a Falcon

It was the day of the tournament, much to Lord Stark's dismay. But father made sure there was a tournament. At least, Renly took my suggestion on the trophies to Lord Stark who agreed on the terms. Much to father's dismay, Lord Stark said, if this tournament was in his name, then he decides on the rewards.

Aurora helped to select a golden dress with embroidery of stags with a bronze detail belt. My hair put up in the southerner style with a golden circlet. Once done there was a knock on the door. Aurora answered the door as father stood there.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes father," I answered.

Father stopped me as his hands were on my shoulder. He was deep in memory before his hand went behind my head and unravels letting the curls fall. Aurora's eyes widen for the work she put in it but held her protest. Father gave a tender smile.

"There, you look like my mother when your hair is down." He said.

"Really?" I asked in awe.

Father nodded, "She had long beautiful curly hair."

The way Father looked at me brought a warm feeling. Even with his behavior towards women, his attitude towards Mother, and how he acts around my younger siblings…he seems content to be with me the past nine summers. As if I'm the only thing that matters. The gifts he gives me more often than the others.

He offered an arm, "Shall we?"

I nodded accepting the gesture.

Aurora, Sir Wensington, Lancel, Uncle Jamie and other members of the Kings Guard followed us to there the tournament would be held. The tournament was crowded, many subjects waiting around the jousting arena. The stands crowded with nobles, even the Stark Sisters were there.

The horns blared, as the Paige boy the royal family. Everyone stood and cheered as father and mother took their seats on the royal thrones for the tournament. Myrcella and Tommen sat in their chairs by father while Joffrey and I sat in out by mother. The crowd then calmed down as the tournament began in honor of Eddard Stark being the Hand of the King. Though Father was not pleased when Lord Stark wasn't there.

Eventually, the tournament began with a good speech. Then there was a waiting period, Father wanting Lord Stark to be here. However, only his daughters and their septa took their seats. Another ten minutes past, looking into the stands I saw Sansa staring at Joffrey. He caught her gaze and cringed looking away.

"She is your betroth," I reminded him. "Give her some courtesy."

"I prefer brunettes." He muttered.

"Why afraid your children's won't have golden hair like you?" I asked.

His face showed grimace on the concept of the physical traits his children would have if married to Sansa. He inherited some much from our Mother on looks, that the only thing that could possibly be our Fathers is his penis.

Speaking of Father he chugged his wine and stood, bellowing, "Been sitting here for days! Start the damn joust before I piss myself!"

The crowd cheered for the tournament to officially begin. He sat down as his squire filled his cup. Mother's face was filled with disgust. She then rapidly stood up and left the stage. Father barely cared, just drank from his horn cup.

"Ser Gregor Clegane!" the Paige announced

Many know him of his nickname, the mountain. The brother of Joffrey's personal guard. A large brute man wearing black armor that is covered in dents. There is a dark history of The Mountain. He is a knight for my grandfather, Lord Tywin. A killer. There was a dark rumor that on the day of the invasion of Kings landing under the mad king's reign, that the Mountain entered Princess Elia chambers, killing Rhegar's heirs before her eyes before raping and killing the once Dornish Princess. No one knows for sure if the rumor is true. But the Martels believe in it.

"Next, Ser Hugh of the Vale," the announcer exclaimed as a knight in silver armor came.

Wait a minute, wasn't Ser Hugh a squire for Jon Arryn? How in seven kingdoms did he become a knight in the last few months? I recalled, Ser Barristan said it takes years to become a knight. Let alone fresh knights do not compete in jousting just yet. This worried me since Ser Hugh has been there for the previous Hand and a kinder soul.

"Yes, yes, enough of the bloody point. Have at it!" father said, after the formality of the knight's address to their king.

Both knights nodded covering their helmets before taking into position. The crowd cheered loudly, impossible to hear the trumpets play. Once both knights collect their lances, Ser Gregor jousted with incredible speed. Ser Hugh horses speed was not stable, his lance bouncing into the air. When they meet in the middle, the black knight's lance struck the white knights shoulder, a mere tap. Two points.

They turned and Ser Hugh started the next round. Ser Gregor galloped his horse. Once more the lances took aim, the blunt lance against the fisted capped lance. What happened next no one could grasp. Something that was rare in the jousting tournament, as splinters flew in the air, screams, and shock. As Ser Hugh was knocked off his horse and laid in the dirt choking on blood, as a splinter of the lance stabbed into his throat.

Father stood dumbfounded, Tommen was in shock as he covered his mouth while Myrcella covers her eyes. Joffrey grinned, while I stared wide eye. Death in a jousting tourney was rare. Yet as I turned my head to stare at the black knight, known as the mountain, for a second I swore I saw him aimed at the vulnerable spot.

Two men came and dragged Ser Hugh body away.

There was a moment of silence within the crowd in honor of respect.

Afterward, the next pairing began.

.o0o.

After today's tournament, I went over to Renly and Loras.

The two were in the Tyrell tent. I made my announcement saying if I could come in. There was rustling sound before Loras gave permission. I entered with Ser Wensington, finding Renly helping his squire out of his armor. Both seemed ravel.

"Having trouble with the straps?" I asked.

"Apparently the leather strap broke," Renly answered.

"I find that hard to believe with that brand new armor." Ser Wensington answered. "Your brother had less orient to it."

Loras nodded as the armor came off. "How can I help you, your grace?"

"I was wondering if you can do me a favor," I said picking up the helmet off the table. "I've to notice the Hands daughter feels…what the correct word…is underappreciated, by any chance, can do the Tyrells Lady's favor for her?"

The Lady's favor is when a knight asked a lady for a token to keep for good luck for battles or tournaments. The Tyrells have it differently. They would switch roles, as the Tyrells would give a red rose to the maiden of his choosing. Usually, he would give the Rose to his sister Margery Tyrell. There were a few occasions he would give them to me. But when there is a tournament in Kings Landing he would find a fair maiden to cheer her sparks.

"Of course, Princess Elain," Loras replied. "May I ask what her appearance is?"

"She is a tall young maiden, with blue eyes and red hair," I describe. "She would be sitting next to the Hand and or her Septa."

Loras nodded, "I shall give her a rose then."

"Much appreciated," I said.

I stared at his armor noticing a difference between his and Ser Hugh and the Mountain. I came over touching a piece that was on the shoulder near the next, "What is this piece called?"

"A gorget," Loras explained. "It protects the neck and collar bone."

Going back to my memory, I recalled that Ser Hugh didn't have a gorget. The Mountain even wore something similar to a gorget, and so did the other knights.

"Is it common for knights to wear these while jousting?" I asked.

"Yes, your grace." Ser Wensington said. "An important part."

"Yet Ser Hugh didn't have his on, only chainmail," I noted.

"I believe you are right," Renly agreed.

"Common mistake on Ser Hugh's part," Ser Wessington suggested. "He was a new Knight a few months ago. I am surprised he competed."

"Agreed," Loras said. "He became a squire very late in the game."

Loras was correct. Men from the noble houses who wanted to be knights start before the age of ten. Loras was eight I believe when he started his training.

"Make sure you wear yours," I advise.

"Of course, your grace," Loras assured.

"HE is the finest knight in the Reich," Renly proclaimed.

"And you are lucky he was your squire and protector," Ser Wensington. "Though, I would enjoy a spare with you, Tyrell."

"Name the time and place," Loras challenged easily.

I shook my head and left to prepare for.

.o0o.

The following ay father decided to compete in the tournament. Unable to resist, I went Father's tent early in the morning. Members who paid to clean the area were doing their work. Turning the soil and picking up littered.

When I arrived at father's tent admiring his armor from long ago. The armor made of what looked like brass etched in the Stormlands filigree with antlers. He turned his head and gestured me over, "The last I wore this armor was nine years ago. I believe it was your name day, being a decade old."

I smiled, "You won the tournament back then, especially in the hammer tournament."

Although, I have my suspicions that people let father win when he compete. He is after all the king. No one wants to deal with the king's wrath or worse kill him. If Father were before Joffrey comes of age, then the Hand and the small council would hold authority with the Queen Regent to maintain the kingdom.

Father nodded pulling up the helmet that had antlers. He set it on a mantel.

"Now, what brings you here?" Father asked.

"I'm concern for your safety," I answered

Father laugh, "Don't me, I am a master. I enjoy hitting people too."

I chuckled, "That you do."

Father nodded, "Do I get a token from ye."

"Father!" I laughed.

I pulled out my ribbon that was gold. Father laughed and offered his left wrist. With much strength, I secured the ribbon. Usually, I don't give tokens, unless it was requested by father or mother. The majority of the time, Father would add a kiss from the princess to jousting champions reward. I enjoyed giving a peck to a handsome knight, but then there are others who aren't appearing.

Afterward, Lancel arrived with more wine.

"Boy, get me in my armor," Father ordered.

Lancel jumped, "Yes your grace."

"I'll see you later," I announced before turning to leave as the Hand entered.

"Lord Stark," I greeted.

"Princess Elain," Lord Stark greeted in return.

.o0o.

Lord Stark knows how to convince people. No one but John Arryn could have Father behave and not do something irrational for his age and physical condition. Much to father's disappointment, he sat on his makeshift throne waiting for the jousting to begin. Mother once again did not attend the jousting tournament. Fortunately Lord Stark attended as he sat next to Sansa.

"Come, sit next to me," Father declared, looking between Joffrey and me.

Joffrey smirked ready to stand up, except Father shook his head gesturing me. I smiled standing up and taking Mother's seat.

"For trying to cheer me up earlier," Father murmured, taking a sip of his wine.

The crowds cheer in the morning hours. The events of yesterday now forgotten. The announcer made the announcement for Ser Gregor as he galloped over on his dark horse. He lifted the hood of his helmet and nodded to the king.

"Knight of the Flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell!" the announcer proclaimed as the crowd cheered loudly.

He had his horse walking down the field without his helmet holding a red rose. Many maidens called out to him, to be his maiden of flowers. However, as promised he came over to Sansa and kindly gave her the rose. It was hard to see her expression, having her back to the stage. But the look on Loras face, I assumed was a good one. He then went over to the stage and bow to the king.

Father nodded to both men. Before they could turn to their position, as if two predators challenging for dominance, Ser Gregor horse slammed into Loras, making the white creature stepped back. Loras smirked shaking his head at such antics. Unable to see the black knight's expression under his helmet he marched to the position.

This was the final rounds. No second chances, most points wins to compete for the prizes. The Mountain versus the Knight of Flowers. I worried for Ser Loras, though talented from his years of training, his strength is not the same. Both men secured their shield, helmets, and lances until in the ready positions.

The fanfare blows

The Mountain takes charge. Ser Loras followed after. Both held their lances with such speed and strength, no hesitation or signs of adjusting their lance. Once in the middle, collision struck as splinters fly. Ser Loras got Ser Gregor Shield knocking the knight and his horse onto the ground, destroying the fence. Everyone watched in the awe to see the Mountain crumbled. He took off his helmet and wave to the crowd, making way to the stage to receive his award.

The mountain stood furious, yanking his helmet off. "Sword!"

His page rushed over with his master sword. The mountain unsheathed the broad sword and had his horse come to him. Suddenly, he struck the sword on the dark horse neck, decapitating it. Everyone watched in horror. Ser Gregor marched over to Loras swinging his blade. Loras used his shield blocking the blow of the blade, yet knocking him off his horse. The tall brute hacked his sword at Loras, who only defense was a shield.

"Somebody stop him!" I yelled.

Ser Wensington was about to go, except Sandor rushed overdrawing his blade.

"Leave him be!" The hound Yelled, blocking the blade of his brother.

The two brothers pulled away. The tension in the atmosphere far greater than it was before. Not even a moment The Mountain attacked The Hound with hard Heavy blocks. I stared at Father, his face in a deep trance. A look he hasn't expressed in a long time as if lost in a memory. Unknowingly I took his hand. This snapped him out of his trance as he stood bellowing, "Stop this madness in the name of your king!"

Immediately The Hound kneeled on one leg just as The Mountain swung his sword almost decapitating his brother. The eldest brother growled at the king shoving his sword to the dirt and storming off like a child. The king's guard was about to intervene, except father yelled for them to let him go.

Ser Loras panted as he stood up and came over to the Hound, "I owe you my life, Ser."

"I'm no ser," the Hound sneered

Loras disagreed, as he took the Hound hand and raised it in the air for victory. The crowd cheered in applause. I stood clapping my hands. Though spoken in a low voice so Father could here, "Ser Gregor frightens me."

"After that stunt, he'll be returning to his estate until summon." Father declared.

There was no honor in the Mountain. He was no knight.

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