Reincarnation

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones and Harry Potter still do not belong to me.

I DID NOT PROOF READ X4

26/02/2016 - Re-Written

-10-

It was a beautiful day, the sun was clouded, letting a few precious rays through. The birds were chirping and the wind was strong. All in all Robin expected it to be a nice good ol tournament where his champions would crush the other peasants beneath their feet like a bunch pathetically small flightless bugs.

Smiling warmly at the gathered crowd before him, Robin took a deep breath and let it out. Finally he could breathe properly without the smell of shit invading his nostrils. His father was there in the King's seat, strong as ever with a cup of wine in hand. His mother, the Queen ever so beautiful, her hair shined like the sun, making up for the one that was blocked from view by the fat clouds above.

His sweet sister, in the bench with his beautiful brother Tommen. Myrcella was wearing a cute frilly dress in the House Baratheon colors. Her hair was tied up in an elaborate braid with a big yellow bow in it, a beautifully crafted Tiara sat on her crown, she looked perfect today. Tommen looked handsome in his red and yellow doublet, his green eyes shined with excitement at the prospect of the coming tourney. His blond hair was slicked back and a golden circlet with a single large ruby encrusted in the middle. He was a true Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

Joffrey was the spitting image of Uncle Jaime, he was basically the Kingslayer in a younger form. Joffrey opted to follow in his elder brother's footsteps and dressed in the Baratheon colors. The designer originally had orders to dress Joff in Lannister colours to represent his mother's house but the boy threw a great tantrum and made a big deal of it, saying that he would not betray his own Royal House. The Crown Prince's heir looked magnificent today, even if the color of his clothes mashed horribly with his person. Joff had a giant crown placed on his head, with numerous jewels encrusted, it was designed beautifully by the blacksmiths. There were carefully crafted stags all running towards the center of the crown where two of them locked horns with one another, with one big fat emerald on top of it.

Prince Robin himself, compared to the other members of the Royal family was quite under dressed. He'd refuse to wear his crown yet again, shooting a dirty look at Jon Arryn when the old man tried putting it on his head. The Old man was insistent though and sent Sandor Clegane, (who was now Joff's official sworn sword) to put it on him. Even the Hound almost pissed his pants when the Stormbringer's eyes flashed green and he growled like the Black Dread itself.

Robin had met with all the other lords, making nice with them and making a good impression. He scanned a few, suspicious looking Lords but most of them were harmless, they only had thoughts of alliances, wine and whores. Robin had heard that the Red Viper, Prince Oberyn of Dorne had arrived this morning, with his daughters and apparent paramour in tow. He'd asked Barristan to remind him to visit the man. Dorne after his father's rebellion were trouble and he wanted to quench it quickly before the fires of rebellion blazed during his father's reign.

Jason was somewhere in the camp with his mentor Ser Barristan. The Queen had told the boy in front of the family that he would receive no help and no favor from the family this day. He was to win nonetheless so as to not disappoint and dishonor his brother and the Queen herself. His mother told his bastard brother that it was an opportunity, that it was his time to show that even Bastards of the Royal family were better than all them. That even the lowest of the was untouchable.

Robin saw right through the plot, granted, there wasn't any real effort to hide it. The Queen wanted to increase the Royal Family's prestige and fame. To rise them up an even higher level of standing within the world. Robin didn't see any harm in it, as long as nothing happened to Jason then he would make no move to impede her efforts.

Poor Jason ate it all up, the prospect of bringing honor to his Queen and Crown Prince would spur the boy on to try his very best, or die trying. Robin was happy for the boy, he knew that bastards here were viewed as nothing but a curse and a burden. It was his hope that Jason would change that, the Queen's champion would erase the black-mark on bastardry placed by the Blackfyres and show the world that the children from unmarried noble parents were innocent and good.

Robin was also pleased to see that relations within the family had improved over the past moons. Myrcella and Tommen were closer to their Bastard brother and Jason could now look in his parent's eyes without flinching.

It was the bond of hatred stewing between Joff and him that worried Robin. He knew that they didn't like each other that much but only now could he see the true extent of their feelings. It was heartbreaking to see his beloved brothers sharing such hate with one another. Joff was jealous of Jason for his talent with weapons, his classic Baratheon looks and his preconceived notion that Robin loved Jason more because of it.

Jason on the other hand hated Joff because he was true-born and bored the name Baratheon, something which he could never have. It was ridiculous and stupid, since there were two other males of the family that bored the same name. But Jason's hatred was irrational as well, mostly because he tried to make nice with Joff and only received derision and insults in return.

"-bin? Prince Robert!" the call shook Robin out of his muse, turning around he threw a questioning look at the Herald, who was trying to announce the arrival of his grandfather.

"Go on Alf, do your job." Robin smiled warmly, calming the restless man.

"Here for an audience with the Royal Prince Robert, Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands and Shield of Lannisport!" the man announced perfectly, not stopping for a quick breath.

Robin remained seated as the regal lord came up the steps to greet him. Myrcella, ever the innocent little girl stood up and curtsied perfectly for her Grandfather, greeting him perfectly like a princess. Queen Cersei looked on proudly at her only daughter before greeting her father as well, she too, and his father remained seated. King Robert grunted out a rude but nonetheless proper greeting for the Lion Lord.

Joffrey and Tommen bowed perfectly, shaking hands with the Lannister Lord before going back to their seats, politely looking away as Tywin came up to Robin, who was still seated, legs crossed. The Prince graced the Lord with a mere nod and waved at the man, prompting him to start the conversation. After all it was he who requested an audience. King Robert and Queen Cersei looked on, preferring not to say anything.

The two of them had slowly given Robin more and more power in regards to making his own decisions for the realm, and would not interfere with anything he did as long as it did not harm the Seven Kingdoms or clashed directly with their own plans.

"I hoped you found the armor I had crafted fitting, and useful." Robin always liked it when his Grandfather opened his mouth to speak. The man would always pick the right words for his sentences and would speak in it rhymes that comforted the listening ear.

"It was, Lord Tywin. Very comfortable too, I cannot wait to wear it, I'll make good use of the thing." Robin answered politely with an incline of his head.

"I will endeavor to not waste anymore of your precious time Prince Robin, and skip to the reason why I am here." Tywin continued, the man paused to look at his mother before looking back to him.

"I hear that you are refusing to foster at any Lord's Castle and will be touring the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Correct, Lord Tywin." he answered patiently.

"Good, I would like to request that you take some of my Lord's heirs with you, along with your cousin Lancel. Some time away from the comforts of their own castle should do them well, what better way than to tour with the Prince himself?" he proposed. Robin pretended to think for a few moment, letting the Lord stew for a few while.

"Send them to me, I'll take a look at them, I promise Lancel's place in the party but the other's will have to prove themselves, is this acceptable?" he asked. Both of them knew it was complete farce and that if he really didn't want to he would just refuse. Tywin agreed, thanking him once again.

As the Lord turned to leave, Robin quickly turned to his parents, mouthing a few words and when they nodded, with some reluctance on his father's part. Robin called the Lord back, who stopped mid-step and turned around.

"Originally the Crown was to appoint Lord Renly the Master of Laws but I made some... disagreements to that choice. Lord Renly would be better off someplace else, the Stormlands would be preferable but my dear Uncle is quite stubborn about travelling to Highgarden after this it seems." Robin said, staring into the man's eyes, trying to find out what he was thinking without the use of mind magics. It was a challenging but a fun, personal game for him.

"What are you trying to say Prince Robin?" the Lord asked, eyebrow raised.

"You or Uncle Kevan will do Grandfather, I suggest you choose quickly before the Crown receives...better offers." he said, mentally congratulating himself when his Grandfather's usual stoic facade cracked.

"Thank you for the opportunity, I will inform you of my choice as soon as I can, my Prince. Your Graces." he said and bowed, quickly exiting the Royal stands.

"I hope you made the right choice boy." King Robert grumbled, sipping on his wine bit by bit.

"Robin made the right decision, my father's presence in the capital will reduce plots tenfold and keep the others in check. I have no doubt that he would serve us faithfully my dear." his mother said, defending both her father, her sons's decision and calming her husband down.

"Thank you mother, father for letting me do this." Robin said smiling warmly at his beloved parents. The two smiled back at him, looking proud.

"Let's start the damn tourney shall we!? Alf! Blow the damn horn before I piss meself!" the King roared, laughing at the Queen's complaints for his improper language.

The Herald nodded and signaled his compatriots before all of them blew together. The incredibly loud noise mixed together blew outwards and into the gathered crowed, silencing everyone.

Jon Arryn quickly stood up from his place beside the Royal Family to address the crowd.

"We are all gathered here in honor of our beloved Crown Prince Robert! On this day we celebrate the boy who is to become a man! We are here to celebrate his accomplishments and services to the Seven Kingdoms! Glory to the Prince! Glory to he who slew scores of Ironborn, it was the Prince who took control of Casterly Rock and beat back the defenders! He was fearless in the face of war and blood!To Prince Robert the Warrior! We are all thankful for his efforts in protecting the Kingdom, For the Prince! To the Prince!"

"TO THE PRINCE!" the crowd echoed.

"Let the tourney begin!" the Hand shouted as the crowd broke into cheers and claps.

"Excuse me, I have to go to the privy." Joff suddenly said, after his parents gave their permission the boy quickly exited the stands, but not before sharing a secret smile with his brother.

First was the archery competition. King Robert initially wanted to award the winner twenty-thousand gold dragons. But when his son stared at him like an idiot for a full five minutes he thought maybe that wasn't such a good idea and reduced it to two thousand and a brand new expensive bow.

Competition was fierce, many were quickly revealed to be mere pretenders who thought they had a chance to win if they just...well, just shot. The Nobles had more winners from their pool than the Knights. Robin wasn't surprised, after all the prissy high-born weren't big on getting dirty and shooting an arrow from a hundred yards away into a bullseye did nicely for their pride.

Edmure Tully did hilariously bad, managing to shoot the arrow into a squire's foot behind him. His bannermen shook their head in embarrassment and the whole party tried to make themselves look smaller.

Gevin Harlaw proved himself a good shot when he made it to the semi-finals. There was a low-born archer as well who made it as well, a man who called himself Anguy. He had a peculiar technique that allowed him to strike every true every single time. The King had allowed three Kingsguard to participate in the competitions, and had let the men to decide who would participate between themselves.

Balon Swann volunteered to participate in the Archery Tournament in the Princess Myrcella's honor. It wasn't surprising, Ser Balon was Mycella's favorite 'White man' and the Kingsguard was quite fond of the little girl. It didn't surprise Robin that the man entered the Semi-finals, he'd seen the man shoot before and by the gods could he shoot.

The last semi-finalist however brought lots of gasps and shouts when he stepped up to the competition. King Robert never looked so proud of him, and Queen Cersei was brought to tears when one Joffrey Baratheon made it through. Robin wanted to jump down and hug and kiss the little shit when he threw Robin a wink from his place down there.

Joff hated Jason with a passion, and used that passion as motivation to train every night when he thought no one knew and shoot the bow that Robin gave him when he was a child over and over again until his fingers bleed.

Robin knew his brother had it in him to be up there with the likes of Brynden Bloodraven and Robb Rivers. After all where was it said that every Baratheon had to be a great warrior? Joffrey was special, he would be the greatest Baratheon archer in history. The Baratheon archer.

Cersei held her husband's hand dabbing at her tears and Robert smiled a true smile in a long while. The man was happy to finally see some of that Storm's Blood in his second son finally rearing it's head. Robin went to Join Myrcella and Tommen on their bench, the two looked incredibly excited to see Joff standing with the rest of the men.

When the Semi-Finals finally started, the Prince opted to go first, still riding on his high after winning a series of matches. The boy hefted his bow, specially made for his size and drew and arrow, pulling as hard as he could for maximum draw, he hands were shaking as he let the arrow fly. The crowd waited in bated breath to see how he'd do.

The arrow flew straight, but only for three-quarters of the distance it was supposed to make before landing pathetically into the ground, with the target still twenty yards away. The crowd weren't sure what to do, they hand't expect such a poor show. But the more intelligent understood why, the wind, the pressure of the competition had played a part in his sup-par showing, but the true reason was his age.

No matter how good a shot he was the boy was still one and ten. His body was simply not strong enough to shoot an arrow eighty yards away. All the previous matches had targets much, much closer to the archer and Joff had no trouble then. Joff stood silent, staring at his arrow in betrayal as the crowd kept silent. It was almost suffocating. Just as Joff looked to be close to a nervous breakdown when King Robert jumped out of his seat and roared, clapping and cheering for his son for the first time in the boy's life.

The crowd immediately followed, shouting out their congratulations to the Prince. Ser Balon came forward and clasped the boy on the shoulder, squeezing it in an act of comfort. But it appeared that the Prince had eyes for no one but his father, the boy wiped the tears that spilled with his sleeves and waved back at his father and mother who'd came to join her husband.

It was a good experience for Joff, the boy wouldn't stop talking once he got back. The King and Queen were more than happy to entertain him while the competition continued on.

Ser Balon, Gevin Harlaw and Anguy shot arrows continuously until Ser Balon missed the bullseye at two hundred and sixty yards. Gevin Harlaw missed at two hundred seventy which left Anguy the winner. The man was obviously eating up the praise and cheers and proceeded to shoot a record three hundred yards, still hitting the bulleye.

Robin got up from his seat to announce the winner and give him his award. After presenting the man with his brand new warbow and a small chest for his gold the archer quickly thanked the Prince, the King and Queen and walked away. But Robin was quite impressed by the spectacle and wasn't done.

"Congratulations to the winner! Your arrows will leave me impressed for a long time my friend! I do not think I have ever seen such skill with a bow! I hereby dub thee: Anguy the Archer and offer you place in my party should you choose it! To the Archer!" he shouted, the crowd echoed and cheered once more for the winner.

The man in questioned merely nodded at him with wide eyes and almost went running, carrying the small chest in his arms.

Jason Waters gripped his sword so tightly he thought it was going to break in half. He was very scared, and nervous. It didn't matter what Ser Barristan said, he wasn't sure if he would do well in the upcoming melee. He'd heard about how Joff the prat had managed to make it all the way to the semi-finals and he didn't want to lose to him, he didn't want to disappoint the family, especially his brother.

"Nervous boy?" a deep voice that scared him into waving his sword wildly. "Calm down now, it's not yet time to be killing anyone just yet." Jason gasped in horror and quickly bowed, muttering apologies at the amused man.

"A-apologies Lord Donddarion! I-I was nervous and-" he stammered.

"Quite alright child, I see you're already prepared. I do hope you'll swing much harder when the competition starts eh? and a word of advice, stay away from the hound, the kingsguard and Thoros. Those three mean business, you'd do well to swing at much smaller fish." Lord Beric chuckled, patting Jason's head before walking away, into his own tent.

Grumbling at being treated like a child, Jason quickly checked himself to make sure he had everything ready. Taking a deep breath, he started walking, trying to find his brother when he accidentally bumped into a girl.

"S-sorry! I didn't see you!" he apologized again at the girl. His immediate reaction was that she was one of the most prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And that she looked like she wanted to run him through with his own sword.

"Are you blind! I was clearly walking in front of you! hmph!" she huffed, crossing her hands and glaring at him. The girl was half-ahead shorter than him and wore clothes more befitting of a boy. Her dark hair was tied into a simple braid that left it hanging over her shoulders just above her chest. She had dark, olive skin and a cute button face. She also...

"Gods why do you smell like a horse!?" Jason gagged visibly, trying to cover his nose. He knew he'd screwed up when the girl turned a funny shade of red, like Joffrey did when Jason reached out to slap him in the back of the head then pretended nothing happened.

"W-what! I..I-I'll Kill you! Get over here!" she screamed and gave chase when Jason turned tail and ran. The poor boy was genuinely scared for his life and zig-zagged around the tents, bumping into people every now and then. After quite some time, Jason craned his neck to see if the girl had stopped but was scared shitless to see she was still going strong and had somehow picked up a dagger along the way.

Not looking where he was going, Jason gave a loud 'oopmh!' as he banged into another person.

He heard the girl pause in her footsteps before she gave a shout and started running again. In his panic, Jason quickly jumped towards the man, gripping his sleeves.

"Quick! Hide me! The devil herself is chasing me!" he shouted, a wild look in his eyes. The man, who looked to be in his forties looked incredibly amused and trying his hardest to keep himself from laughing. Jason kept begging the man, who was obviously Dornish into hiding him when the girl's voice was heard again.

"Papa! This boy called me an ugly horse!" the girl shouted, pouting and stomping her feet. Jason almost thought she was going to throw that dagger in his face when her sentence finally registered in his head.

"Hey I didn't call you ugly! I said you smell like a horse and only because you do smell like one!" Jason shouted back waving his hand at the girl, trying to convince the man she called papa that he didn't to anything bad. Now clearly taking the man in, Jason was surprised to see the Martell family crest on the breast of his robes. The man shared the same eyes with his daughter, he looked young but the widow's peak proved otherwise.

"Elia, what did I tell you about chasing boys? I thought we agreed that you'd be older when you started?" the man joked, smirking at the two children who were now red in the face, quickly catching his meaning.

"Papa you must punish this boy!" the girl pouted and went to hug her father glaring at Jason all the while. The man shushed her, before turning to address Jason.

"I'm afraid my daughter feels offended by your statement boy, even if it's true that's no such thing to say to a lady wouldn't you agree?" the man chastised gently, rubbing his daughter's head when she complained.

"I-I that's true. My brother always says to respect all women. I'm sorry Lady Elia I did not mean to offend you.." he muttered, looking down at his feet feeling guilty about hurting the girl's feelings.

"Hmph! I accept your apology my lord." she said reluctantly, only doing so when her father prompted her.

"W-what? I'm no lord! I'm just a bastard!" Jason exclaimed in surprise, that was the first time in his live someone addressed him as Lord, even if it was by accident. The man laughed out loud, the girl following him with small giggles.

"Well I'm a bastard too! My name is Elia Sand! This is my father Prince Oberyn!" the girl said happily, her mood suddenly doing a one-eighty on Jason who was flabbergasted to be in the man's presence, and also terrified that he'd insulted the man's daughter.

"I'm sorry m'lord I didn't mean to.." he started but the man merely had a hand up, a relaxed smile on his face.

"No need for apologies boy, your name?" he questioned.

"J-jason Waters Prince Oberyn, King Robert's son.." he stammered, jumping slightly when the man's gaze suddenly intensified, losing that relaxed smile. His eyes narrowed slowly as he took the boy in, observing every pore. Jason almost pissed his pants.

"I see the resemblance...well good luck in the tourney boy. I do hope you survive, and make sure you listen to your brother's lesson, he sounds like has a good head on those shoulders. Elia say good bye, your mother's looking for you, we have to go now." he said, eyes still inspecting Jason closely.

The girl Elia muttered a good-bye and proceeded to leave with her father. Jason watched her go with wide eyes, still taking it what happened just then. His eyebrow raised in surprise when Elia suddenly ripped a strand of cloth from her blouse and ran towards him. The girl didn't say anything but take his hand and wrapped the piece around his arm. Oberyn looked on in understanding, he was also quite shocked at her daughter's actions.

"Bastards need to stick together." she whispered into his ear before planting a wet kiss onto his cheek, making the both of them redden. Elia kissed him on impulse and didn't look like she regretted it one bit.

"You better win or I'll kick your butt!" she shouted as she ran back to her father, who nodded at him once before leaving with his daughter.

"uhh..what?" he said out loud, still confused.

The words 'uhhh..what?' was spoken once more by the time the horn for the melee sounded. Jason, being one and two and still have yet to reach puberty was hilariously short compared to the other fighters. His vision was flooded with black and steel as the men screamed and hacked into each other. But while the height difference gave him and overwhelming disadvantage, it also gave him an opportunity.

Jason knew that Baratheons were strong, very strong in fact. He'd seen his father's war-hammer once, when the man showed it to him. Jason was surprised to find that he had to exert a tremendous amount of force just to move the thing an inch. It was said that his father could wield it with one hand atop a horse, which was how he killed Prince Rhaegar during the war.

His brother's hammer was almost twice the size and he could swing and twirl the thing like it weighed a feather. Jason always admired their strength, and couldn't wait to reach the same level of power when he matured. His brother had him go through grueling drills this past few moons which was 'designed' to maximized his 'muscle growth'. Jason didn't understand a lick of it but he could feel it doing it's job. He was incredibly powerful for his age, and fast as well. It was almost unnatural how fast his strength was growing. Before, he couldn't even touch the Hound, now he was confident he could fight the man to a stalemate, or even win.

But he chose not to, at least not yet. The boy decided to follow Lord Beric's advice and cut through the other contenders. His short height, combined with his massive swings easily brought down unsuspecting fighter who couldn't even see him coming.

He went for the legs, going fending off random blades and cutting every piece of flesh he saw. The numbers slowly dwindled down and Jason could finally see something other than limbs. He regretted wearing plate armor, the heat was unbearable. He was bathing in his own sweat right now, and his eyes were stinging. Looking around the pit, Jason could see eight other men still standing. Most of the fighters had already yielded, two unfortunately lose their lives, their blood caked the ground in a unnerving color of red and brown.

His eyes widened when he spotted a portly red-headed man laughing and swinging a sword of fire. It was a metaphor either, the blade was literally in flames, it's fire so hot the man it was swinging against couldn't even get in close. Jason wondered for a moment if the man had magical powers or if he just lit the damn thing with oil and flame.

Hearing loud thumping footsteps from behind him, Jason quickly ducked as a blade missed his head by a few inches. Turning around, eyes wide, Robin faced none other than the Hound himself, Sandor Clegane.

"You almost killed me!" Robin shouted, his blue eyes widened in anger.

"That was the idea!" the man replied and swung his sword once more, the blade cut through the wind, creating whistling sound where it met the bastard's own in the middle, creating a loud clang that brought most of the crowd's attention onto them.

It was a funny thing, if it weren't true. The boy barely reached his chest and was thrice as small as he was, and yet they were evenly matched in a contest of strength. Although the stalemate lasted for only a few more seconds before the Hound got the upper hand, his experience doing it's job. Clegane shifted his stance, forcing Jason to stumble due to the sudden weight change.

The Hound quickly took advantage and swung again, cutting through the boy's measly defenses and managing to land a small cut on the cheek. Jason screamed in pain and frustration, swinging his sword wildly in response, missing every single time. The man was fast despite his large size and he dodged every swing easily, only needing to parry a few strikes.

He could feel his arms getting heavier, it was getting harder to breathe and he could feel his skin sizzling under the heat of the sun. When it got to much he paused for a moment to replenish his energy, but it was a stupid mistake.

The Hound grinned viciously and was already in the middle of his attack by then. Jason cursed himself for being so stuipd, his brother would kill him for this. Just as the blade almost made contact, another sword bashed it out of the way.

Turning to the side, Jason was met with a giant boot that smashed him in the face, sending him flying. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Distantly, he could make out the crest of House Mallister, he didn't know weather it was Patrek or the man whom he shared a name with, Lord Jason.

'But did he have to kick me in the face?' Jason groaned, feeling a thick, heavy liquid dripping down his temple. He knew it was blood; he didn't want to know how much. He knew still had a chance to win, the only way was to fight smart. He was too arrogant before, too dependent on his strength of arm. The boost in strength had recently made him ignore the other aspects of the fight. Now he was learning the hard way.

First there was one, then there were two, then a third joined in, all of them gunning for Clegane. Lord Beric had just finished his opponent off and jumped in to help Thoros of Myr who was struggling to fend of the Strongboar, even with his flaming sword.

Jason took deep breaths from his place on the ground, cursing his fate. That boot to the face affected him more than he liked to admit. By the time he regained his bearings and managed to hold his sword, The Hound was already down in the ground, unconscious. He took three others with him and only Lord Jason Mallister was left from the three on one and even then the aged man looked like he could barely stand.

With a roar, Jason bared his teeth and with what little strength he had left, went on a rampage against Lord Jason surprising the man who struggled heavily to keep up. The man fought valiantly but youth won out this time, a well placed strike sent his sword flying out of his grasp and the Lord of Seagard had no choice but to surrender.

That left three...- no two. Thoros and Crackehall were out, it was he and Beric Dondarrion left. Both of them were dead on their feet and were doing all they could just to stand. Jason was prepared for the fight of his life when the man suddenly winked and dropped his sword.

"I Yield!" he shouted, stunning everyone into silence. Jason stood there mouth-gaped and in shock, only the deafening cheers of the crowd brought him out of it quick enough just in time for the Stormlord to come over and grab his arm, raising it high up in the air, eliciting more cheers.

He didn't know how, or when but he suddenly found himself staring into His brother's proud blue eyes.

"My Brother has done me proud today as my champion! He has proved to us today that he is worthy of serving the family! With his prize of three-thousand Gold Dragons and a royal blade from the armory, I hereby bestow upon you the title Lord! May all men now address you with the respect you've so earned! To Lord Jason Waters!" he roared, prompting the crowd to follow.

'I did it! I did it...' he thought, crying as his name was cheered.

Robin was elated, his brothers had done well for themselves. Jason would be the perfect Leader for the Auror Corps, the Captain of the prestigious Order he planned to fill with bastards all over Westeros. They would be the extension of his will, his powerful right arm and the beacon of all that was just and true when he reigned. When people looked to them they would see Champions of the realm. The Knights of glory.

But every brighter the light, the larger the shadow. There must always be a balance, and he was hoping to use this tourney to find that leader for that balance. He needed someone whose will was tougher than iron, someone who was not afraid to get his hands dirty. He needed a man who could walk between the lines of evil and come back unwavered, someone that would have absolute loyalty to him. Loyalty that was not spell-bound but genuine, and he needed the men to follow him. They would be his servants in Night. The swords in the shadow, the ones who did the dirty work. They would be his left arm, the unsung heroes of westeros. The Dark Knights.

The Reapers

A/N: Still no Targaryen Pov's sorry. I didn't expect the tourney to be so long you know, I just kept typing and typing and the next thing I knew it was already six thousand words! I've decided to end it here and continue with a part 2, where all the things I promised in the previous chapter will take place. Thanks!