Kestrel's hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing a light red dress with white detailing on it, a low square neckline and a gold pendant on a chain around her neck. Sansa's hair was in a twist and she was wearing a light green dress and a gold bracelet that Rhonda had given to her.
Baelor, Loras, Tellen, Vanis, and the rest of the Oldtown Knights they had brought in their retinue entered with Margery, her mother (who was Baelor's sister), Rhonda and several of the Ladies of the Court. As they went down the steps Sandor and Kestrel appeared at the top and followed them down, Kestrel looking around in surprise at the decadent feast that was laid out for them on one extremely long table which had over a hundred people around it, the table itself full of platters of food.
Hanging from the ceiling was both the Clegane and the Hightower sigils and Kestrel glanced at the Clegane one as they made their way down the steps into the noisy hall. The sigil had a yellow background with thee dogs and Kestrel glanced at her own family sigil, a grey background with a white tower that had a fiery red lit beacon at the top.
She thought for a second and glanced at Sandor 'when they combine our sigils, I want a red background of the fire, the white tower and two dogs'.
He nodded slightly, looking confused as they made their way to the table 'why only two?'.
'Because I want one to represent you and one for your sister, in our family there is no recognition of your brother'. Sandor's eyes had a brief glint of amusement 'that is fine by me'.
They sat down at the middle of the long table and Kestrel glanced around, seeing Joffrey and Cersei at the top of the table, Gregor had evidently been forced to attend and was as far away from Sandor as he could have possible been.
Beside Kestrel was Sansa, Baelor and Tellen, whilst Rhonda and Vanis were sitting beside Sandor, and Kestrel noted that among the guests were two of the Kettleblack brothers, Swann, and Tyrion was sitting almost opposite her.
Kestrel hadn't had much interaction with Tyrion but it was hardly a secret that the tense relationship he'd had previously with Cersei had only become worse, and they were practically never seen together anymore. Tywin Lannister was serving as the new Hand of the King and Tyrion had been essentially sent away to live on the other side of the castle, his father ignoring him.
As the servants brought out even more food and everyone settled down and started talking loudly, Tellen muttered quietly into Baelor's ear 'Tywin Lannister is not here?'.
Baelor's eyes flickered up and down the table and his reply was even quieter, his head turned so no one could lip read 'He is at Lannisport, Kess wouldn't come if he was here'.
Tellen frowned in question, but Baelor shook his head and started to put food on his plate and Tellen took the hint that for now, he should drop the subject.
Kestrel was amused at how when the King, Cersei and her parents were around, all the Knights suddenly seemed to become gentlemen, though the conversation eventually inevitably turned to war and weapons, Kestrel zoning out.
Sandor looked down at his fiancé, who was idly pushing food around her plate as the conversation turned more and more brutal.
'Is something wrong?'. She shrugged 'I've heard this conversation too many times'.
Tyrion snorted slightly with a laugh and shook his head 'you are not the only one my Lady'.
Their eyes met for a second and Tyrion caught the change in her expression and the flicker in her eyes as she heard Joffrey's voice carry down the table.
'Robb Stark is as bad a traitor as his father was, I will make him beg for his life, on his knees. And if he does beg, then his mercy will be at the hands of the Bolton's, I hear they still like a good bit of flaying'.
Kestrel's eyes flickered up and Tyrion saw the pure anger and hatred in them, which surprised him, though it had gone before he was sure he had even seen it.
Sandor nudged his knee against Kestrel's 'do you have enough wine?'.
She shook her head and swallowed 'I think I'll be sick if I have any more'.
He didn't know what to say but she pointedly turned away and continued to speak to Sansa, who knew that Kestrel was trying to take her mind of what Joffrey had said.
By the time the food was being cleared from the table Kestrel could practically feel Gregor's eyes on her and touched Sandor's arm, making him lean down slightly as she muttered into his ear 'don't drink too much, or else we won't be able to 'talk' when I sneak into your rooms later'.
Sandor had never put wine down so fast and Tyrion smirked slightly, working out from Sandor's expression exactly what had just been said to him.
Kestrel wound her hand into Sandor's and Tyrion glanced down the table, knowing immediately what Kestrel's game was.
Judging by the expression on Gregor Clegane's face as he stabbed the food on his plate, she had made her point.
Joffrey spoke down the table 'So, Lord Baelor, I have heard great tales of your Archers, are the stories true?'.
Varis smirked and Baelor put his wine down 'well your Grace, that would depend on what you have heard'. Joffrey raised an eyebrow in amusement
'I have heard they are some of the best in the Seven Kingdoms, and that your soldiers are better than some men we have here'.
Baelor looked amused 'The Greencloaks are the pride of our City your Grace, and our Archers are no exception'.
It was widely known that not only did the Hightowers have an enormous army of men available, they were also highly trained, Baelor's brothers in charge of making sure they were all warriors, rather than scared men with swords.
When they had completed their training soldiers in Oldtown were given a green cloak, not unlike the gold cloaks in the Red Keep. The Greencloaks were also known for their impressive branch of Archers, and there were rumors they could fire from their horses.
'Well then, perhaps we should organize an Archery competition, I assume one of the men with you is a Greencloak archer?'
Varis shook his head 'if we are to show off our Archers, then Kestrel needs to compete'.
Joffrey looked surprised 'she is a good archer?'.
Varis didn't have to think before replying truthfully 'she is our best'.
Joffrey looked down at the brunette and nodded, still looking amused 'very well, Kestrel you shall be a representative of your house'.
Kestrel knew she didn't really have a choice and Joffrey wasn't waiting for an answer, moving the conversation on. Tyrion glanced over at her 'Kestrel, you think you are good enough to compete? These men are Archers for a living'.
She threw him a withering look 'I'm sure any Greencloak could beat one of your Archers with his eyes closed, myself included'. Tyrion raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
By the time all the food had been cleared at the end of the night most of the men were drunk or on their way there, whilst the women had either had a fair few or wanted to go to bed. The men had made it to the point in the night where they were retelling battle stories, and were about one drink away from angrily deciding to duel each other.
Kestrel was bored of the false pretences, excusing herself with most of the other women including Sansa, Margery and her mother, everyone heading back to their rooms.
Sansa looked exhausted as they entered their rooms 'it looks like they are trying to buy favour with your father, that feast was better than any I've ever had here before'.
Kestrel was unlacing her tight dress 'I expect he'll be asking Father for some Greencloak Archers by the end of the week'.
She pulled off the dress, wearing a plain smock dress underneath and Sansa was unlacing her own 'I hope you can beat their Archers Kestrel'.
She laughed with a smirk 'don't worry about that'. They were interrupted by a knock at the door and Kestrel wrapped a robe around herself and answered, seeing the filthy servant girl from her first day at the castle.
Her voice was meek and quiet 'My Lady…Lord Varys asks to see you'.
Kestrel blinked in surprise 'your name is Beccas, is that right?'.
She nodded slightly and Kestrel sighed, looking down at her with nothing but pity 'very well, he is in his tower?'. She nodded and Kestrel took a gold coin from her table and handed it to the girl
'take this, and don't let them see you with it, do you understand?'.
The girls eyes were wide but she nodded, quickly pocketing the money and disappearing off. Kestrel closed the door and hurriedly pulled on a light dress and a cloak as the sun had gone down and it was cold outside.
'What does Varys want with you at this hour?'. Kestrel shrugged, pocketing her knife again 'we shall have to see when I get back. Stay safe'.
Magir Caryn was a Lannister sworn Knight, over six foot with wide shoulders and a network of scars and marks over his skin from fights, battles, jousts, bar brawls and wars that he had been in, many of them alongside Gregor Clegane, and he was one of the few men in the world who looked up to the eldest Clegane.
He had been at the feast but hadn't drunk as much as many of the others, planning to leave early the next morning on a hunt.
He'd stayed in the hall when the women had all left but Gregor had drunk himself into an angry stupor, Joffrey was trying to throw his weight around, Sandor was speaking quietly to Baelor, Vanis and Tellen, and the rest were all drunkenly trying to impress the King with increasingly violent or unrealistic sounding battle stories.
Magir had had enough and left, wandering out into the empty corridors and coming across Bronn, who was the only person either not asleep or in the feast. The pair glanced at each other with nothing short of contempt and Magir glanced back at Bronn, seeing his sigil that he had taken after the Stannis attack on the back of Bronn's cloak.
'You call yourself a Ser and yet you don't fight with honour and you spend time with the dwarf traitor'.
Bronn turned sharply, their swords and chainmail loud in the empty, echoing corridor 'I hardly think a man with three bastard children and friends like Gregor Clegane can tell me how to be a Ser'.
Magir was breathing deeply, looking even more angry 'my sons are none of your fucking business 'Bronn of Blackwater', you serve the halfman, he is no longer the Hand of the King, he no longer has any title or standing, and yet you sit and follow his every word as if he is shitting out gold'.
Bronn snorted with derisive laughter 'I would rather follow a blind and lame horse than that madman you fawn over, did Gregor ever tell you how he raped and killed Elia Martell with the blood of her baby on his hands? Is that the type of man you think is better? You are a fool'.
Magir drew his sword a split second before Bronn did, and the younger man also realised that he hand the back foot on the situation.
He was dressed in light chainmail and had his sword, whilst he was definitely a more skilled swordsman than Magir, the other man was in full light armour, and had two twin swords- and was fuelled by pure anger, rather than skill.
Magir's eyes were dark 'I'll bring you to your knees then I'll make you suffer, you know the Bolton family? Well they've taught me all about how to make a man scream for his life, you'd be surprised what you can do to a man whilst he is still alive'
Bronn was about to lunge forward when Magir suddenly stilled, his face draining of colour before he fell to the floor in a heavy heap.
Bronn looked up in shock at the person in front of him, seeing Kestrel where Magir had been, a furious look in her eyes. In one of the gaps between Magir's armour was the knife Kestrel always carried with her, in a way that only a skilled fighter would know where to place it.
Kestrel knelt down and removed the knife, Magir groaning as she rolled him over onto his back, kneeling with one knee on his chest, the other on the cold stone floor. He groaned and looked confused as she leant over him, the knife to his neck, voice menacing.
'You talk about fighting with honour, but you have no idea what it is. It doesn't matter what the Bolton's have taught you, you are not a 'better man' than anyone. You are the worst kind of man, and you won't be missed by anyone'.
Bronn gaped as Kestrel swiftly drew the knife across Magir's throat, killing him instantly.
She paused and stood up, wiping the knife clean on Magir's doublet before standing up.
Kestrel looked down at the motionless body with nothing short of disgust, pocketing the knife and glancing at Bronn 'you are armed with one sword and no armour, he had a sword twice as big and is what, a foot or two taller than you, were you really planning to fight him?'.
Bronn smirked 'it's not the size of the sword my Lady, it's how you use it'. He'd expected to see her look appalled at what he'd said, but was surprised that she laughed
'very true. You are Tyrion Lannister's sell sword aren't you?'
He half nodded and she glanced down at Magir and up again 'you have a flask?'.
Bronn nodded and handed her the flask of wine, watching closely as she splashed small amounts on the body before handing it back. 'What was that for?'.
Kestrel said nothing, putting her hair behind her shoulders and suddenly let out an ear splitting scream of terror that made Bronn pale, and caused around fifteen Knights, Ser's and sellswords to appear in the corridor within less than a minute, most of them coming from the Feast Room.
Bronn was in shock as Kestrel suddenly seemed to be hyperventilating, shaking and looking like she was about to collapse. Osmund Kettleblack held the girl and she was still shaking, pointing at Magir on the floor 'He- he- he tried to attack me! If it wasn't for Ser Bronn I don't know what would have happened!'.
Bronn blinked but was both amused and impressed with the act, though he kept himself composed, all of the men trying to get the attention of the 'poor little defenceless woman'.
Baelor, Vanis, Tellen and Sandor appeared hurriedly and looked confused until someone explained that Magir had tried to attack Kestrel, and she had been defenseless until Bronn had 'saved her'. The four of them saw through the act immediately because they knew that she was the last person to need any assistance from someone else.
Sandor looked confused as Kestrel suddenly flung herself onto him in fits of sobs, though quickly saw that there were no actual tears, keeping her head down to cover that fact.
Joffrey appeared with two Kings Guard and was quickly informed of the situation, bending down and sniffing lightly 'the man reeks of alcohol, he was clearly drunk. I am sorry my Lady, for what happened here'.
She shook her head, still looking meek and timid, holding onto Sandor tightly still 'I am lucky Ser Bronn was here to save me'
Bronn glanced over and noted the expression that Tellen and Baelor shared quickly, and he knew that they were more than aware what had actually happened.
Baelor took charge of the situation 'Ser Bronn, how can we ever thank you? I think my retinue will be escorting my daughter back to her rooms now your Grace, if that is aright with you?'.
Joffrey waved a hand vaguely and Vanis pushed the small of Bronn's back, making him follow Baelor, Sandor, Tellen and Kestrel.
She continued to shake and sob lightly until they had turned three or four corners and she stopped, looking up at her father 'well that was entertaining'.
Baelor shook his head 'I thought you were going to keep your head down and stay quiet, that lasted a long time didn't it'.
Kestrel shrugged with a slight smirk, motioning to Bronn 'I don't like a man who picks an unfair fight, hardly fighting with honour is it?'. Tellen narrowed his eyes slightly 'well you don't exactly fight with honour either Kess, lets not pretend you're Loras shall we'.
Kestrel laughed and turned to Bronn who spoke first 'Don't worry, I won't say anything to anyone'. Baelor glanced over him quickly 'If you ever want a change of scenery, it's much warmer in the South, come anytime'.
'I didn't think Oldtown needed any more Greencloaks?'. Vanis laughed 'we don't, but there is no such thing as too many men Ser Bronn'.
Kestrel looked at him awkwardly and he looked confused 'where did a Lady like you learn to kill a man so efficiently?'. Kestrel snorted derisively 'I would hardly call him a 'man', but that is another story, for another time. I'll tell you one time'.
Bronn looked slightly appeased and Kestrel stopped suddenly 'Varys- I was meant to see Varys in the tower… I need to go'.
Tellen shook his head 'you can't be seen wandering the castle on your own after what just happened, if you're seen then questions will be asked'.
Sandor motioned 'I'll escort her'. Tellen nodded 'fine, I'm coming too, I don't want people asking questions'.
Kestrel nodded politely to Bronn and the three of them turned and walked down another corridor, leaving Bronn looking confused with Baelor and Vanis.
Sandor glanced at Tellen, the two men walking a little way behind Kestrel, voice quiet 'where did she learn to kill a man like that?'.
The younger man chuckled slightly 'Braavos, ever heard of the Faceless Men?'. He saw Sandor's eyes widen and laughed again
'when they found out who she was, they agreed to train her to fight. There is a lot you don't know about her Clegane, some of it would probably make you think twice about marrying her'.
Tellen said nothing else, his mouth tightly closed in an obvious gesture to Sandor to not ask any more questions.
Sandor was looking at the back of Kestrel's head intently the whole way up to Varys' tower, wondering what could possibly be so bad a secret.