King's Landing
A week later
"Can I talk to you Giselle?" The dunmer turned from her book and looked up to see Lydia standing at her door. A simple nod was all the permission her Housecarl needed.
"If this is about another brawl between us and the Lannisters-" Giselle started, and was surprised when Lydia chuckled but shook her head at the frustration she heard in her friend's voice. She breathed a little easier at the news, but it didn't improve her mood as she remembered what had transpired over the last several days. While she had expected trouble between the people of Skyrim and the Lannisters, the number of drunken brawls, and where alcohol hadn't been to blame in the slightest, had surprised even her. Twenty men had been injured, with more Lannisters sent to the nearest maesters to be treated for broken bones, on the first day alone. It got to the point that even King Robert, despite his love for a good fight, had stepped in and ordered both his wife and the dunmer to reign in their respective men, or he'd have them all thrown out of the city.
Giselle's thoughts were brought to the present though when Lydia sat across from her at the small table, a grave look on her face. "There's been news, my Thane. Eldria Joroth has brought more Thalmor to the city, to as she claims, participate in the tournament."
"I expected she'd do that." She knew there was far more than a tournament win at stake. Only a fool would believe otherwise. But she knew that wasn't what Lydia had come up to her room to talk about since it wasn't particularly surprising, and it wasn't why she looked so grave. "What's really on your mind my friend?" Giselle asked, hoping to get the Housecarl to open up.
"Lucia." The woman replied quietly, and Giselle had to look away. A lot of people had brought up the same thing after they had heard about her talks with Jon Arryn. "Do you truly mean to go through with this?"
"Honestly?" The dunmer stood from her table and walked to the nearest window. She looked out towards the bustling street below for the longest time before gently shutting the wooden blinds. Lydia followed her example and shut the door while Giselle closed the rest of the windows. Once she was sure they were isolated, only then did she turn to her Housecarl after taking her seat once more. "If we weren't here to stop whatever that Elder Scrolls talked about, I might have come here anyway just so I could destroy the Lannisters. They're the ones that worry me the most. It wouldn't surprise me if the Lannisters started a war with their neighbors the moment someone made the mistake of crossing them."
"But we're not here to destroy the Lannisters." Lydia was quick to point out, perhaps a bit harsher than was required, but her outrage at the whole situation was only matched by Giselle's sorrow.
The bodyguard saw it in Giselle's brown eyes until the dunmer looked away. "I know that Lydia….so to answer your question, I'm only agreeing to this shit because we don't have a choice, not if this threat is anything like Alduin. I don't know how many times I've said that when it was first proposed to me."
"Is it to convince everyone else, or yourself Giselle?" Lydia dared to ask, and wasn't surprised by the angry flash in the dunmer's orbs before it disappeared. The Housecarl walked over to her side and put a hand on her shoulder, drawing Giselle's gaze to her face. "I know you didn't agree to this lightly, I just want to be sure it's for the right reasons."
"That's the problem Lydia, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing or not." Giselle replied solemnly, and was surprised to see a flicker of a smile cross her Housecarl's face.
"That just means you're still the person I swore to protect with my life, my Thane." The smile disappeared a moment later, and Lydia crossed her arms. "And while I appreciate your sending Vilkas back, you promised me that you'd keep him close since you refused to keep me at your side."
"And I'm still tempted to send you home." Giselle countered as a smirk of her own appeared on her lips as she poked at Lydia's unarmored belly. Lydia slapped her hand away with a roll of her eyes before walking away.
She didn't go far though as she stopped at the door. "I know you better than most Giselle, that's why I didn't come up here the first chance I had. I just wanted to be sure, my Thane."
"I know, and that's why you're one of my closest friends. You knew me before I became the Nordic hero of legend. You saw me at my worst, my highest, and everywhere in between." Lydia nodded her head since Giselle was dead on. She had seen the dunmer throughout most of her time in Skyrim, days after the first dragon was sighted over Helgen. She knew exactly what Giselle was talking about, and left the inn room with those thoughts in mind, leaving Giselle to prepare for the tournaments that were to follow over the next two to three days.
She had a far more important matter to attend to first, Robert could wait, his Oblivion cursed tournament could wait. She needed to make sure Lucia was safe, because Lydia was right to worry about the Thalmor. It wouldn't surprise her if they or the Lannisters tried to hurt her, and if that happened, Giselle would come back to the capital with a vengeance. Giselle instinctively knew that if something happened to Lucia she would return and raze the whole city to the ground. Normally, she could control her dragon soul, but if there was one thing that both sides of her agreed on, it was that blood could only be repaid in blood. And this instinct was only amplified if someone she considered family was affected.
It was that thought that guided her to Mathias, and a couple of the new recruits that had come out of the new Sanctuary underneath their home in Westeros. He and the two new assassins were situated at one of the distant tables in the main hall. She didn't wait for an invitation as she sat down. She passed along a simple note to the Westerosi recruit and his two new companions. He only nodded his head when he read the note before crumbling it in his hand. "It'll be done." He replied, and his two friends only nodded their heads.
"Burn that note. No evidence." She intoned, and again they only nodded before the three stood from the table and went to prepare for their new task. She trusted the other two, but she didn't trust Mathias just yet. Gabriella had raised a good point the last time they had talked. Lord Varys had done a lot for Mathias and others like him, and despite Varys's promises to help them, he hadn't made his loyalties a secret. His loyalties were to the realm, and if he considered the people of Skyrim a threat, then chances were good he'd engineer a way to destroy them. Mathias had been one of his little birds before he had changed sides, under duress no less. Giselle was no fool, but she had no one else that knew the capital better.
She hoped by having him sent with two of her own people, Mathias would always have eyes on him that she trusted, on the off chance that he jumped back into Varys's good graces. The Dark Brotherhood had eyes and ears everywhere in Tamriel, it was past time that tradition held true in this world. Thankfully, Serana's enthralled, which were growing steadily the more people she 'enticed', could be asked to do whatever they required, so they had a good start in that regard at least. Since they were loyal only to the elder vampire, no amount of torture, bribes, or intimidation could hope to turn them now, making them the perfect spies.
Still, Giselle wasn't taking chances. Delphine's admission regarding her last confrontation with Cersei had her wondering what the Queen might pull. The dragonbone daggers she kept in her boots, as well as the dragonbone swords on her armor covered hips, were never far from her reach. Everyone in her company had received the same speech, and as she looked around the hall of the inn, she was reassured by the assortment of weapons and those in armor everyone had on their person. Axes to swords, iron all the way up to dragonplate, no one was going anywhere without at least one favored weapon on hand. For all of their preparation though, Giselle still wondered if they were truly ready for whatever came their way. Or maybe you're looking for shadows where there aren't any?
Whatever the case, she and most of her Dragonguard started towards the tourney grounds after they had had a hearty breakfast. She knew one thing for certain though, the abominably hot weather was starting to annoy her to no end. She missed the cold and the snows of Skyrim, something she hadn't thought she'd ever admit to herself as she shielded her eyes for a moment as she and the rest of her friends stepped outside. "I'm starting to hate the weather down here."
"You aren't the only one Dovahkiin." Delphine stated as she wiped at her brow with the back of her gauntlet covered hand. Even with that ring Giselle had given her, the Akaviri warrior still wasn't faring well in the heat. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm half tempted to strip naked and let their assassins find me in the skin the gods gave me."
"There's a sight I'd pay to say." Farkas chuckled in response, even as Delphine turned around and punched him in the stomach, hard. He still grinned from ear to ear, even as he bent slightly at the waist from the sucker punch. "That was a compliment you know."
"I know. I have a reputation to maintain though." Delphine countered as they approached the gates that would lead them to the tourney grounds. Despite the long walk, they had foregone their horses, hoping to keep attention of their passages to a minimum this time, even though most of them had seats among the rest of the nobles. "Besides, you'll be the last person that sees me outside my armor."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that." Serana replied, her hand tucked under her chin while her other held her elbow. She shot the dirty blonde a playful grin when Delphine glared daggers at her. "Veezara." Was her only explanation. Delphine scoffed but rolled her eyes when she realized where the vampire was going with her line of thought. "Just be glad someone sent him and Nazir to find our lost friends."
They all nodded at that and left the topic be for the rest of the walk to the tourney grounds. It wasn't until they reached the gates that they hit their first obstacle of the day when Giselle spotted J'zargo and Onmund being harassed by Lannister guards. She sighed and put her hand against her forehead in frustration. It seemed someone had ignored the King's orders not to start trouble between the two disparate people. Lannister pride knew no bounds, but just as she was about to step in, the two mages took care of the problem themselves. One second, the two crimson cloaked guards were standing tall, smug smirks on their faces, the next, one was clutching at his crotch when J'zargo's staff slammed between his legs before he hit the ground when the Khajiit slammed the other end against the back of his head. Onmund had since jabbed his jewel capped staff into the other guard's neck before sweeping his feet out from under him. The guards were out cold long before they hit the ground.
"Sleeping lions are so cute." Onmund chuckled, but his smile disappeared when his eyes fell on Giselle and her entourage. "Uh….hey Giselle. Fancy seeing you here."
"Explain." Giselle said simply. She was more than an fed up with all the unnecessary conflicts between the Lannisters and her own people. Though she supposed she shouldn't be surprised by the increased number of brawls. Many armed men combined with alcohol would have that effect. She had seen more than her fair share of idiots while traveling through Skyrim alone, and like many things, the people in Westeros were no different.
"Well, we decided to walk through town for a bit on such a magnificent morning, just minding our business, when we noticed these two rather drunken lions who were bothering these lovely ladies over there." Onmund said and pointed to a group of women who seemed to try their best to be invisible without running away. "So we decided to step in, they took offense to that, and well, you saw the rest."
Giselle sighed heavily and rubbed at her forehead. "Let's just get through the day without killing anyone. I'll be happy about that at this rate." The two mages offered hurried apologies, but Giselle didn't hear them as she pushed them out of her way.
No further incidents occurred as they were lead to their seats across from the royal box seats on the other side of the field. It gave her and the rest of her people a straight shot at King Robert, Queen Cersei, and their Kingsguard as well as the royal children. To Giselle's slight surprise though, Lucia was sitting with Jon Arryn and his squire, Hugh, a young boy a few years older than the Nord girl at his side. When their eyes met, Lucia smiled from ear to ear and waved a little before turning to Jon. Giselle watched the pair and was reassured by how easily they seemed to be around each other now. It seemed Lucia's impassioned speech that first day had done a lot to endear the old soldier to her side after all.
Turning away from the royal box seats, Giselle crossed her arms and looked towards her fellows just as the first two riders come charging down the field. "Have you ever seen a joust before Lady Morgonnis?" The dunmer tried to hide her disdain for Petyr Baelish as he leaned forward from the previously empty seat and gave her one of his customary grins. "Quite a spectacle, and for us, a way to gauge the skills of the respective knights about to engage each other for honor and glory. The hefty winner's purse is also a great incentive."
"You call this a spectacle, but I call this a waste of time." Giselle countered, even as the two knights crashed into each other with a thunderous pounding of hooves and splintering wood when their lances collided against the other man's shield. The impact was violent, but both knights rode off to their starting positions, no clear winner able to be determined in that first ride down the field. The dunmer was unimpressed, and waved her hand dismissively. "You call this a tournament of honor and glory for those that participate, more for the one that wins, yet all I see are two grown men trying to knock the other man off his horse with a giant stick. True battle is not a game. In a real conflict, they'd drop like flies."
"No imagination." Petyr said with a chuckle. "Not all battles are won with brute force or skill of arms Giselle. You might learn more from this than you think."
Aela was quick to join the conversation as she looked towards Petyr. "When warriors in Skyrim cross their blades, they either do so to improve their skill, or to kill. There is no middle ground for us." There was a little more to it than that, but she wasn't about to argue over such a trivial matter with the dung of the capital.
If he heard the open scorn in the Huntress's voice, Lord Baelish didn't react to it. "Like the Game of Thrones." Petyr countered, leaving the Dragonguard and their leader to ponder his keen observation.
He left just as Vilkas, Farkas, Lydia, and several others arrived. Farkas stopped Lydia from taking her seat, and dusted it off, erasing Baelish's presence. "Wouldn't want your pup to be tainted by that snake's presence."
"Thank you for your concern." Lydia chuckled, and sat down as the riders came at each other again. This time, one lost his saddle when his opponent's lance slammed into his helmeted head, knocking the rider quite literally head over heels before he fell to the dirt, hard. "For a game for the nobles, these jousts are vicious my Thane." Giselle said nothing, but she nodded her head in reluctant agreement. Petyr was right about one thing, this entire city was full of vicious individuals, fighting for something that would ultimately destroy them.
The next two days were an exercise in patience. By the time it was over, even Farkas had grown bored with the stupidity of men whacking each other with long pieces of decorated wood, and was one of the first to start cheering when it was finally over when Jamie Lannister was unhorsed by a knight from the Reach. She had lost track of the names long ago, and wasn't about to start trying to remember them now. The archery competition at least was a little more exciting, especially since Aela handedly defeated the rest of the tournament's participants with a shot from two-hundred and fifty yards. Twenty thousand gold dragons richer, Aela was smiling from ear to ear the rest of the day.
Then came the day of the grand melee.
Over a hundred knights from every corner of the realm were assembled, astride their horses, dressed in their best armor, carrying weapons properly dulled to avoid permanent injury. At least, that was the rule, but that didn't stop the occasional accident from happening during such an event.
Astride Shadowsmere, an old pair of skyforge straight swords on her hips, one of the first blades she had ever crafted by her own hand, Giselle turned to Farkas and Delphine who flanked her on their own horses. Farkas was predictably grinning from ear to ear, having been eagerly awaiting a chance to test his blade against the best Westeros had to offer. Delphine was frowning, she was only here to keep the dovahkiin safe. As for Giselle herself, she couldn't lie, she wanted to be here. She wanted to be in the thick of battle again. For her, it was a good way to release all of her frustration, all of her pent up rage, partially from her dragon blood which craved the same thing her dragon brothers and sisters wished, but also because of who she had once been. Some habits never died, and she had always craved a good fight. Only the reasons had changed since her early days as a mercenary. Now, she was a true warrior that fought for more than her personal amusement, to fall by an enemy's hand because it had hurt too much to live with the loss of her parents.
As the final opponents arrived on the field, Giselle ran a hand across her black horse's mane, giving her noble steed a reassuring pat on her flank. Shadowsmere tossed her head but seemed the calmest of them all, a fitting trait for a horse given to her by Sithis himself, or so Astrid had claimed in her indirect way. "What do you think of our opponents?" Giselle asked, her eyes sweeping the hundred and twenty other men that were arriving. Her eyes narrowed when she saw three Thalmor warriors ride into the distance, wearing the bronzed elven armor of their homeland. With any luck, someone else would take them down before they became a problem.
"Appearance wise? Most look the part of men ready for war." Delphine began, but Farkas and Giselle didn't need her to give voice to the rest of her thought. They wore the armor of their respective homes or what they could afford, everything from simple boil leather to richly decorated and engraved platemail. They carried weapons also appropriate to their station, but appearances weren't everything. Even as they looked on from their high hill, they saw a man wave his hand along the length of his blade, and green flames sprouted along the steel. "He'll be a danger. Most horses won't go near fire." Luckily for them, Skyrim horses were not most horses.
"Thoros of Myr." Farkas intoned, and the hungry look in the Nord's face told the other two where he'd be going the first chance he had. "He was the first through the breach during the siege of Pyke during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion. He's mine."
"You're welcome to him." Giselle replied, and wasn't surprised by the feral grin he threw her way. "I have my eyes on bigger prey." They followed her gaze to the Barristan Selmy, a small, gracious smile on his graying bearded face. He had approached her last night, during the second feast of the tournament, and had asked her if she were attending. Giselle had at first said no, but she had changed her mind when the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had said he'd be there. To test her skill against the best they had was too tempting an opportunity for the dunmer, and she had changed her tune almost immediately. Selmy had laughed and wished her good fortune, and now here she was, ready to cross blades with the man.
"I also have prey I plan to hunt down Dovahkiin." Delphine said, and neither Farkas or Giselle were that surprised when they followed her narrowed gaze and saw the gold gilded armored Jaime Lannister, his smug smirk plastered on his face despite his recent loss in the jousts. The black armored Hound, Sandor Clegane, was at his side, but they barely looked at each other. "We have an advantage they don't." When her two companions looked at her, Delphine explained. "Look at them. They can barely stand to be next to each other. But we trust each other implicitly, and there are few others I'd rather have at my side."
"We have our own Ebonheart Pact." Giselle stated, drawing a surprised gasp from Delphine. She merely smiled at her friend's reaction. "Your people might have been enemies of Tamriel once upon a time, but the Akaviri have changed since those ancient days. And there are few others I'd rather have at my side as well Delphine. We might not have always seen eye to eye, but the Blades will always be considered friends." The woman could only smile in thanks as the clouds parted and the sun was revealed. The battle was about to begin, and on the trumpeter's blast, they drew their blades as one.
Skyrim Combat Music 1, 2 or 4. I'd go with 4.
Cheers echoed across the hill and across the open field, but the loudest of the calls to their native homes were to the cold and snow covered lands of Skyrim. Giselle led the charge of her Ebonheart, fire in her eyes as she expertly twirled her twin steel blades, Shadowsmere seeming to fly down the hill as she came into melee range with a knight from the Reach, a yellow rose on a green background emblazoned on his shield. He fell first when she knocked his shield to the side and promptly slammed her blades on the backswing against his back on her way by.
The man was trampled by Delphine's steed, where he lay moaning in the torn grass. "For the Dragonborn!" Delphine had since engaged two more, her curved blade making short work of another wielding a mace before turning to a second, ducking when the man's long sword whistled over her head at the last moment. He didn't have time to try again when she clipped him with her fist, his steel helmet resounding with the powerful punch to the side of his head before she brought her sword to bear against his neck. A solid crack followed, and he too was driven from his saddle, clutching at his bruised throat.
"For the Companions! For Ysgramor! For Sovngarde!" With every yell, Farkas struck down another knight as he brought his greatsword to bear. True to form, Farkas was the first to swing his horse away from their group and made a beeline for the mad priest from Myr with his flaming sword. The Companion gave a feral howl, spooking man and horse alike as his greatsword cleared a path for the mighty warrior, knocking men to the ground wherever his aim was true. Even when someone managed to land a hit, the powerful hunter scarcely slowed down save to grab the offender by the front of his throat and bodily throw him from the saddle. "Come on you milk drinkers! Come on!" Farkas roared in challenge, until at last, Thoros turned to meet the berserk charge head on.
When their blades met, sparks flew in every direction, and for a moment, it looked as if Farkas would come out ahead, but to the Companion's surprise, Thoros of Myr wasn't without his tricks. He grabbed a fistful of flames from his own sword and shoved his flame wreathed hand against his bearded face, forcing Farkas back to beat out the fire in his hair. It was all the opening the mad priest needed as he broke their lock and proceeded to rain down blow after blow, forcing the Companion back. If not for the skyforge steel used in his greatsword, the blade would have withered and eventually broke under the furious assault. Farkas growled, half his beard gone from the man's clever trick, but eventually was forced down from his saddle when Thoros pushed his sword to the side and brought his sword's hilt down hard on the top of his helmeted head, hard enough that his helmet was dented and Farkas was dazed. A simple smack to the side of his head from the flat of Thoros's flaming sword was all it took after that.
Giselle and Delphine were too busy to notice, save to see the flaming sword moving like a slaughterfish through the mass of armored men in the distance. "Farkas lost?" She asked, surprised, even as she grunted and slammed her dragon helm covered head into a man's face, shattering his nose like a ripe cherry.
"They aren't as soft as we thought!" Delphine shouted back as she slammed her mailed hand into another man's side and followed that with a double handed slash across his stomach. The powerful swing had him in the dirt a moment later before she brought her blade across her chest sideways when another knight tried to unseat her. He didn't get a chance when one of the three Thalmor came up from behind him and knocked him from the saddle. "Thalmor!" Delphine shouted as she brought her blade up to block the overhead strike the elven warrior brought to bear.
"I have one here as well!" Giselle growled through her teeth as she blocked with one blade and defended with the other as her opponent did the same. The double blade style wasn't particularly common, except in places like Hammerfell and among the Forsworn that called Skyrim home, but Giselle wasn't familiar with the Thalmor using such a technique. This honorless bastard was proving a more difficult opponent than most as their blades danced and clashed against the other as they circled each other on horseback. "Who are you and where did you learn to fight like this?!"
"I don't answer to you dunmer whore." The man retorted as he brought his blades to bear with malicious glee. Giselle's reply was straight to the point as she knocked his blades wide to both sides before crossing them at his throat. He didn't get a chance to beg as she crushed his windpipe between her swords with a yell. The Thalmor pig was one of the few deaths on the field that day.
Delphine finished her own opponent about the same time as she threw her blade into the air after knocking her enemy's blade from his hand, caught her katana by the hilt, and promptly smashed it against the Thalmor's face repeatedly until he fell from his saddle as well. Flipping the blade back over with a skilled twist of her wrist, Delphine nodded her grim approval of her Dovahkiin's handiwork before riding off to find her next opponent.
"Your mother is quite a skilled warrior Lucia." Jon stated as he watched the field as intently as the girl at his side from another royal box that had been set up on another tall hill that overlooked the entire area. Even as he spoke, the dark skinned woman was busy with two more opponents, her blades a blur as she easily countered and unseated another knight, this one from the Vale itself. He winced when his horse took off, trampling the man under hoof. The second knight, a young hedge knight from House Dustin, didn't have any more luck as he soon found out when the dunmer brought her hilts smashing against both sides of his head.
Lucia merely grinned from ear to ear at Jon's praise. "She's the best warrior of our homeland Lord Arryn." She stated, as if it should have been obvious from the start. Jon merely chuckled and had to nod at the simple truth the girl had revealed since the evidence was plain as day for them to see.
"Hah! Look at those two go! A hundred gold dragons says the Kingslayer's knocked on his ass!" Robert bellowed, earning him an annoyed scoff from Cersei, who, despite her distaste for the entire business, had remained throughout the tournament from the start.
"That would not be a fair bet your grace." Jon stated simply, earning him an annoyed curse from the King.
"I'll take that bet." All eyes fell on Lucia.
Robert blinked once before grabbing at his belly and doubling over as deep guffaws escaped him. "You're a brave lass! She's got more sense than the lot of you whores and she's only what, nine?!"
"I'm ten your Grace." Lucia replied, a beaming smile on her face as Robert laughed cheerfully again and waved his finger at her.
"Ha! So you are girl. Done, a hundred gold dragons to see the Kingslayer knocked on his golden ass by your Blade friend." Robert declared, and his grin only widened at the next words out of the girl's mouth.
"A hundred on my mother. I would never bet against my family." Lucia stated proudly with a firm nod of her head.
"A wise policy dear girl." Tyrion added with a chuckle as he looked across the royal box and met Lucia's charming smile. Even if she were betting against his brother, he didn't mind in the slightest. From what he had seen of the dunmer's skill, he had every confidence that her wager was placed with wisdom and absolute faith in the dark skinned woman's abilities. Her stamina seemed endless, her skill flawless, and her determination was only matched by her quick, precise strikes. Delphine wasn't half bad either as she demonstrated a skill with her seemingly unwieldy weapon that put some of their best knights to shame. It wasn't until he turned to Cersei and saw her not so subtle smirk that Tyrion wondered if the day's melee wasn't going to see a couple more deaths before it was over.
Barristan Selmy had hung back at the edge of the field, conserving his strength, and gauging his opponents' skills from afar. It became quickly apparent who the most dangerous of the day's opponents were as Lady Morgonnis and her two companions took down anyone foolish enough to get in their way. He saw how easily the dunmer moved, even restrained to horseback as she was, how quickly she adjusted her parries and counters as the need arose. She was almost without equal, without peer, and all of the stories he had heard of her ability were becoming all too true. Barristan could only chuckle when his eyes caught an infuriated Farkas in the distance as he grabbed a passing horse's reins, brought the animal to heel, and took off after Thoros with renewed vigor. The mad priest didn't get a second chance as the Companion rode him down with a cry of Ysgramor on his lips. Thoros's flaming sword shattered when Farkas brought his great sword down on the man's shoulder, tossing the man from his saddle like a rag doll.
His distraction almost cost him when the third Thalmor rode in, shield poised to slam into his face on his way by. Selmy was prepared as he made his horse rise up onto its hind legs, stopping the elven man's attempted charge dead as he was forced to pull on his reins and bring his shield up to defend his face from the horse's flailing hooves. By the time the Thalmor had put some distance between himself and Selmy's animal, the battle had turned in the older man's favor as he brought his sword down on the Thalmor's battered shield once, twice, and a third before he knocked his weakened shield arm aside and knocked his enemy's blade from his hand with a skilled strike across his fingers. Stunned, battered, and without a weapon, the Thalmor could only sigh as Selmy brought his blade down in a blur of steel. He never saw the ground rushing up to meet him, nor did he hear Selmy's amused response. "May the Warrior bless your arm the next time we meet."
"And may Ysgramor give you better eyesight." Selmy only had time for one block before Giselle brought to bear her second blade across his back. Stunned, he offered the dunmer a counter that had her right sword arm numb from their clash, but where he was the best with a single sword, she was better with two. He found that out the hard way as she battered him senseless with her left hand blade until the numbness bled out of her right. By then, Selmy had another problem as Delphine joined in their combined assault, and three powerful swings later, he was finished as they bodily pushed him from his saddle. Shadowsmere even joined in the fray as she stepped on Selmy's shoulder, a just audible crack followed by a grunt of pain as the black horse dislocated the knight's sword arm at the shoulder.
"Clever horse! Almost as smart as you!" Jaime Lannister roared as he grabbed Delphine's ponytail and tried to pull her from her saddle while bringing his sword to bear in a downward thrust to her exposed neck. She growled and grabbed his blade just above the tip and directed it against her chestplate, where the superior forged metal stopped it cold.
"Nice try Lannister!" Delphine retorted as she slammed her elbow into his chin, freeing herself from his underhanded trick before spinning in her saddle. With her hands tightly wrapped around the hilt, her swing had twice the amount of power behind it as she snapped her katana across his back. The sheer force of the blow staggered the proud Lannister as if he had been hit by a mammoth. He didn't know what hurt more, the Blade's shattered blade against his back, or the dark elf's follow up attack when she brought both of her swords across his chest.
Robert yelled in approval even as he dug into his belt and pulled out a small coin purse for Lucia. "You're smarter than ya look girl. Don't spend it all in one place." The King said with another great laugh as he tossed the leather pouch over to the beaming child.
"It's not over yet dear husband." Cersei muttered under her breath. Tyrion was the only one that heard his sister's words and again wondered what foul trick she might have cooked up. He had his answer when the Hound charged in, silent as a ghost, and brought his sword across the Blade's throat on his way by. Giselle had yet to notice as she fought off two Lannister knights at the same time, but Tyrion knew she was dead before she hit the ground from the crimson fountain that poured from her throat.
"Dear gods sister, what have you done?" Tyrion gasped as he looked to Lucia's face and saw the astonishment and dawning horror. He was quick to realize that her horror wasn't for the crime that had just been committed, but for what was about to happen when Giselle turned in her saddle and saw the Hound's sword, the tip of which was unusually sharp for a melee. The fact it was covered in the blood of her friend came a moment later.
Lucia knew what was coming, as did Farkas, but neither one of them felt like sharing just what was about to happen. The dragonborn was about to unleash her fury, and they had a front row seat. "Gut that honorless bastard Harbinger!" Farkas roared at the top of his lungs.
"Mama!" Lucia cried, but her voice went unheeded over the roar of the crowd. Only Jon heard her, and instinctively pulled her against his chest. He had a feeling that whatever was about to happen, it wasn't going to be a clean or quick death, and he did the only thing he could. He shielded Lucia from the sight, but it was a moot gesture, as he was about to find out.
The Hound didn't know he was a dead man until he saw the flames pouring out of the woman's mouth. "YOL TOOR SHUL!" His eyes bulged out of his scarred head as the flames, summoned from the last place he ever expected to see, washed over him and his horse. No one knew who screamed louder, animal or man as both frantically tried to put out the fire that had washed over them like a wave. In the end, it didn't matter as Sandor Clegane was crushed under his terror stricken horse, and was left to roast in his armor. He met his gods covered in his own shit and piss, what was left of his face by the times the flames began to die down locked in an expression of absolute terror. He died like a dog, screaming and covered in his own filth.
Giselle watched him burn, her face locked in a mask of vengeful fury. It wasn't until Farkas put a hand on her leg that she jerked and came back to the present. Every eye was on her. She ignored them as she jumped from her saddle, her body covered in bruises, but she hardly noticed as she knelt by Delphine's body. Farkas needed no prompting as they unceremoniously pushed the other groaning men away from her and cleared a space around the Blade. Falling to her knees, she hardly noticed as Lucia ran up to her and put her hands to her mouth when her eyes fell on the woman's grievous slash that ran the length of the right side of her neck. Serana, Lydia, and the rest of the Dragonguard soon joined them, but Giselle hardly noticed or cared as she looked up to the royal box and towards Cersei Lannister. Cersei's self satisfied smirk was all the answer Giselle needed to know what had happened, and who had ordered it.
Serana saw it too, and stopped Giselle from executing the Queen then and there by slamming her fist across her lover's jaw. She went down like a bag of rotten apples. The Dragonguard didn't question the action as the vampire bade them to get Delphine and Giselle out of the field as quickly as possible. She stayed, but not before hugging Lucia and telling her to go back to Jon for now. The girl only nodded her head and slowly walked back to the royal box. Serana slowly stood to her feet and let her golden eyes sweep across their faces one by one. "Remember what you've seen here. Remember, and know that you have made a mistake that you will live to regret. You will rue the day you killed one of House Dovahkiin's!" She let her unnaturally cold gaze linger on the Queen, and just about gave into the urge to send an ice spike through her face before she turned on her heel and seemed to disappear the very next moment.
It was only a few seconds later that the vampire reappeared next to the Dragonguard, who silently walked out of the field ahead of the rest of those that had come for the tournament. No one was brave enough to stop the sons and daughters of Skyrim, not even King Robert was stupid enough to get in their way as they left without waiting for a winner to be called. No one cared that the ten thousand gold dragons wound up going to some man from Winterfell who had gotten extremely lucky in his choice of opponents. But the victory was a hollow one, even to him as he and several others from the north lands fell in with those from Skyrim as they left the field behind. They weren't staying, not after this. That message was heard loud and clear without a word being said between them.
They stayed long enough in the inn to prepare Delphine's body for transport back to the Rills. They cleaned her and her battle scarred armor, they reforged her sword with Adrianna and her new apprentice's help, a young man by the name Gendry, and they filed out of the city in silence three days later. The only stop Giselle made was to the Tower of the Hand the morning of their departure.
Vardis was standing at the door and immediately moved out of her way without a word. She didn't give him a second look as she embraced Lucia tightly in her arms. Silent tears were exchanged between them, and while Jon was the only occupant in the room, he might as well have been nonexistent. "Do you still want to stay Lucia? In this nest of vipers?" Giselle asked point blank as she led the girl to the balcony overlooking a practice yard below.
"Yes." The dunmer looked down at the girl in surprise, and before she could try and dissuade her, Lucia beat her to the punch. "If you take me back now, we'll be no better than they are." Lucia all but shouted, her brown eyes blazing with sorrow and anger from the whole situation. Giselle's reply was to punch the red sandstone pillar in front of her, her bare knuckles cracking from the force of her strike. The warm, small hand on her side drew the dunmer's gaze down, and the hardness around her hazel orbs softened as she knelt so she and Lucia were eye to eye. "I'll write letters every week mama, I promise. If something happens, you'll be the first to know." She promised as she wrapped her arms around the woman's neck.
Giselle all but crushed her against her chest and buried her face against Lucia's neck. "Gods Lucia, you've become so strong." It was only when they pulled apart and the dunmer brushed her fingers through the child's, no, the young woman's hair, that she spoke again. "Every week Lucia. I don't care if the raven's delayed because of a hurricane, I'm tearing this city down until I find you again."
"I know you will." Lucia softly replied without hesitation or a shred of doubt.
Giselle slowly stood to her feet and only then acknowledged Jon's presence. "Don't worry Lady Morgonnis, no one will hear your promise from me. I don't doubt it in the slightest, and only a fool would do so. What I will say is this." At this, Jon closed the distance between them so that they were eye to eye. "I know you have no faith in King Robert, but he is like a son to me Lady Morgonnis. He might be a great fool, but he's my fool. He's a good man at his core, and I won't have him harmed. I will have your word, here and now, that you won't be the first in line."
Most people wouldn't have dared to make such a demand, and if Jon had asked her to spare the Queen, she would have gladly slit his throat ear to ear, their deal and her honor be damned. Instead, the Dragonborn only nodded her head curtly before leaving the Tower with all speed. If not for Serana waiting for her right outside, she might have been tempted to make another stop that would have seen Cersei with a new smile around her throat. "Not today Giselle. Not today." Giselle only sighed and didn't even so much as nod since it was the same thing that the vampire had been saying when she had woken up in her bed back at the inn.
"Did you talk to them?" Serana simply nodded her head in reply. "Good." Was all the dunmer said as they rejoined their people.
The Tower of the Hand
That night, when her mama and everyone she had ever known swept out of the city in silence, she awoke in her bed, alone and cold and hating the city with a passion that would have made her mother's dragon soul seem pale by comparison. Despite her intense hatred of King's Landing and what it had taken from them already, she hadn't lied when she had told her mother that she had wanted to stay. She knew, as limited as her own understanding was of why they were there, of what was at stake if they failed. Only she would know the truth, especially now that Delphine, one of her best friends, was gone.
Her thoughts were interrupted however when three dark clothed shadows pulled away from the walls, from a secret entrance by the right side of her bed. Lucia knew who they were long before they pulled their hoods away. "Lucia of Whiterun." The leader intoned, soft as a breeze through the curtains, and the girl nodded and met the cold, murderous glare and held it. The Dark Brotherhood assassin nodded his approval before turning to his compatriots, Mathias and a young red headed woman of sixteen, seventeen tops. "We are to be your guardians. Your mother has ordered us to protect you at any cost."
Lucia's reply was direct and to the point, even if she didn't believe in their dark god. "Hail Sithis." The three shadows that were to become her silent blades in the dark replied the same. She went to sleep minutes later, a small, satisfied smile on her own face. The people of King's Landing weren't the only one that had tricks up their sleeves. Her three guards disappeared the same way they came, leaving no trace of their presence until the next morning as three corpses were discovered in the water off the docks of the city. No one knew, not even Varys, why someone would go out of their way to kill a simple stable hand, a scullery maid, and a castle steward. Lucia knew, but she wasn't about to say a word as replacements were found. No one questioned the fact that their gazes lingered on Jon Arryn's new foster child anytime she passed.
End Notes; This chapter kicked my ass for the longest time. My grandmother died a couple weeks ago, so that kind of put a damper on my muse when it came to this story, but I have finally found my way back to Westeros and the motley assortment of heroes and villains I've established for this story. Hopefully I haven't lost my touch lol. At any rate, see ya guys next time!
