On the first day of the Hand's Tourney, Mina rode in a fine red gown towards the grounds in a palanquin with her Sansa and Sansa's young friend, Jeyne. They were all excited to watch the main event of the day, the joust. The girls all wore their hair braided up tight and high in the delicate style of the south. The gauzy fabrics of the elegant little box they rode in were nice, but Mina thought the whole thing was more than just a little ridiculous; surely money could be better spent than carrying three girls such a short distance.
Mina wished Arya were here, but the girl refused to come; these days it seemed like the youngest girl was too busy with her dancing teacher to care what her sisters were doing.
Mina stuck her head out of the gilded box as it rocked back and forth. Hundreds of colourful pavilions had been erected, transforming the riverside. She watched as the common folk milled about between the marketplace stalls; she listened to the cacophony of the various merchants as they called out, hawking their wares. Occasionally she could see the glint of armour in the sun. It felt nice to be out of the castle for a change, even if it was just barely outside its walls.
Mina had her attentions drawn back inside the carrier by Sansa's squeals of excitement. "Oh, Mina! It's better than I could have ever imagined. Look over there! Look at all the knights! They're the ones who will be riding the joust today!" Mina looked out Sansa's side of the palanquin at the procession of men riding towards the jousting grounds, her younger sister sighing in her ear. The men were all properly fitted in their glimmering armour, many of their ornate helms revealing their respective homelands. Mina's jaw dropped when she saw a familiar snarling steel hound helm, it was Sandor. After how mad their conversation about the event had clearly made him, she wouldn't have expected to see him among the entrants.
The box lurched forward, as the muscled men carrying it slowed to a stop. A slight man dressed in fine, olive coloured silks helped the three girls out, and showed them to their seats. Sansa was clearly enamoured by it all. "Aren't we so lucky, Mina? To sit in the royal box, so close to the king and the prince! " Mina nodded to her sister and Jeyne, who stood silent and starry eyed beside her beautiful friend.
Mina followed closely behind the little man until he brought the three girls to their seats in the royal box. Septa Mordane and their father were already waiting for them. Eddard had been largely unseen in the days leading up the tourney, even at mealtimes. Mina assumed that the planning of the grand event must have been keeping him busy. She'd never seen her father looking so tired as he did in the time they'd spent in King's Landing.
"You've done well in planning all this, Father." Mina looked towards Eddard with a hesitant smile, "I can't believe how far people have come from to attend, and all in your honour!" She was trying her best to win back her father's love and respect, but she quickly realized that this was not the way.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, its quite a spectacle." Mina thought he seemed rather annoyed by the whole event. "It should be starting soon, keep an eye on Sansa will you? I don't want her to be frightened by the gore of it all."
Mina frowned at that. Regardless of whether it was her mother or her father, it always came back to Sansa and what was best for her and her gentle disposition. Mina loved her little sister, but sometimes their family dynamic could be trying. The young girl in question giggled to her friend as the pair of them eyed up her future husband sitting on a raised platform towards the back of the grandstand.
When the joust finally began, the enthusiasm of the two younger girls faded rather quickly. In the early rounds, anonymous knights they'd never seen or heard of before were unhorsed, often in a wickedly violent fashion. Some bouts were quick, while others went on for rounds and rounds before the King finally gave the victory to the better of the contestants.
Such was the case when it was Jory's turn to ride. He looked rather dull in his plain and dowdy armour compared to some of the entrants they'd seen. Sansa shifted in her deep green gown out of embarrassment when it was announced he was riding on behalf of Winterfell, but Mina was proud. He was an honourable man who had served her family well for as long as she could remember. He was not as handsome, or as finely dressed as some of the other men, but what he lacked in those categories he made up for in heart in her eyes. She was disappointed when the king picked his opponent, Lothor Brune, as the victor, but mostly she was happy the man had emerged from the event unscathed.
When it was finally Sandor's turn, a knot formed in Mina's stomach. She was angry with the man, but she still worried about him getting hurt—as much as she hated to admit that to herself. She found herself fiddling with the fabric of her red gown, tracing her fingers over the intricate needlework carefully embroidered on the sleeves.
Sandor looked undeniably massive compared to his opponent. He was a large man as it was, but the armour and his well-built black horse, Stranger, only added to the effect. His armour was dull compared to many of the other entrants', but it looked built to withstand blows. His helm looked menacingly in her direction until the riders were given the starting signal, she could feel his eyes on her. It was an easy win for Sandor; he knocked his opponent off with one clean hit and then exited the ring without any celebration or fanfare. For a moment, Mina felt relief.
When the next riders were brought out, Mina was shocked to see a man who was perhaps a head larger than Sandor. When his name was announced, Mina realized him to be the 'Mountain That Rides,' Sandor's elder brother, Gregor. Everything about the way he carried himself was violent. Even so far away from the man, Mina was frightened. He unseated his first opponent just as easily as his younger brother had, but Mina could plainly see the level of his force was unrestrained.
After hours of jousting, Gregor rode into the ring for the second time. The common folk in the audience rose to their feet, cheering for the beastly man. Mina imagined he was the easy favourite to win the whole thing with his unchecked strength and size—his opponent looked positively flimsy in comparison. Mina wished the smaller man would just concede, but instead he road down against the wooden fence at the sound of the horn's blare. Mina couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene as the Mountain's lance struck the flimsy man's neck—a weak spot in his armour evidently. The small man flew from his horse and the end of the lance went with him. Mina looked down at the lifeless body that had fallen so close to her, blood spurted from where the lance pierced the neck. The scene made her feel sick, she could feel the bile building up in her throat.
A sobbing from down her row drew her attentions back to the box where she sat. Mina would have expected it from Sansa, but instead it was Jeyne; the girl was hysterical. Sansa, in comparison, sat expressionless, staring at the pool of blood that had formed beneath the body in front of them. Wordlessly, Mina linked her fingers with Sansa's. The girls' father and the septa ushered Jeyne away—chaperoning her back to her chambers, Mina imagined—but the sisters stood together in silence, taking in the scene. Just as quickly as he died, the evidence was erased from the scene and the joust began once more; it was almost as if nothing had happened at all.
"Well aren't you a pair of brave young girls, watching a scene like this without tears." Mina turned her head around to see a peculiar looking man with his hand on her sister's shoulder. The man was short with a pointed beard silver beard. Something about him made Mina shiver. He moved his hand from Sansa's shoulder to her face, "you look so much like her, you know?"
Mina had had enough of this stranger fawning over her little sister. "I beg your pardon, my lord, but have we met?"
The man removed his hand from Sansa's shoulder so he could perform a deep and unnecessarily dramatic bow. "No, I don't believe we have. Lord Petyr Baelish, an old friend of your mother, from back in her days at Riverrun. I've also had the pleasure of getting acquainted with your gracious father on the small council. Mina… is it?" Mina nodded with a strained, little smile. "And of course the lovely Sansa, our princess to be." The whole scene made Mina deeply uncomfortable. Her attention was drawn to the sounding of the horns, blaring to signal the arrival of those next to joust. Lord Baelish moved to sit next to Mina, taking the seat that her father had left vacant.
Mina forced her attentions back to the jousting grounds to see Sandor riding up to the fence for what would be his final joust of the day. The familiar knot returned once more to Mina's stomach. In all his earlier rounds, Sandor had been the clear favourite. Against Renly, however, the outcome was less certain. Sandor undoubtedly had a size advantage over his opponent, but she'd seen today that the king's younger brother was a talented jouster in his own right.
Hooves thundered as the men road towards each other on their first tilt. Mina couldn't help but gasp as Lord Renly's lance pinged Sandor in the chest and then dragged along side of his torso. From where she sat, it was hard to tell quite what had happened, but despite the hit, Sandor managed to stay mounted on his large black steed. Mina noticed him fiddling with where the armour had been scraped as he brought the horse back to the starting position.
After a quick shift of Sandor's armour, the men began their second tilt. Mina couldn't take the suspense any longer; she buried her face in her hand, waiting for it to be over.
"Not losing your stomach for it now, are you, girl? Don't worry, the handsome Lord Renly will be just fine…probably." Petyr's slick words rang in Mina's ears. She kept her eyes shuttered until she heard the sound of armour crashing on dirt and Lord Petyr spoke once more, "Sorry, Mina, it appears I spoke too soon."
Mina's eyes flashed open to find Renly lying square on his back in the dirt. She could only see the back of Sandor as he trotted his horse away from the jousting grounds. He had done it—he was alright! Mina tried her best to contain her relief as the crowd around her chattered worriedly about the wounded lord being tended to in front of them.
Slowly, and with some assistance from his squire, Renly rose to his feet. Immediately, spectators from all around the jousting grounds went wild. Even in defeat, the handsome man was still a crowd favourite. Renly bowed and waved to the crowd, it was clear to Mina that the man was rather used to the attention and adoration of the masses.
After a few more tilts, the sun began to set on the day. The king declared that the final four who remained in the tournament—Sandor, Gregor, Jamie Lannister, and Sansa's favourite, the handsome Loras Tyrell of Highgarden—would ride their final jousts the following day to determine the champion. Mina was relieved for the respite. After a long day sitting in the sun, she was quite hungry and eager to stretch her legs.
As the crowds dispersed from the grandstands, Mina intertwined her fingers with Sansa's once more, this time on a happier note. "This way, San." Mina nodded her head in the direction of the river, "I can't wait to see what's been prepared for dinner—I'm positively starving!"
Mina and Sansa took their time as they lagged slowly behind the stream of nobles towards the wafting smell of meat. "Do you think they'll have lemon cake for dessert, Mina?"
The seriousness in Sansa's voice made Mina chuckle under her breath. She loved it when she could see the little bits of childhood that still remained in her sister—as rare as the occasions may be. She'd missed this side of Sansa more than she'd realized.
When the girls reached the tables and benches erected for the feast, they spotted their father sitting on a raised platform next to the royal family. As they neared where he sat, he motioned towards the end of platform where the old septa sat waiting for them. The sisters climbed the brief set of stairs and took their seats beside the septa.
When Joffrey noticed the girls, he strode towards them confidently, a servant carrying an elegant carafe of wine on his heels. Sansa blushed deeply as the boy kissed her hand in greeting. "My sweet lady, you are truly a vision of beauty in that wonderful gown." Sansa giggled demurely in response.
Mina watched the interaction with disgust. The pair acted as though there was no bad blood to be had between their respective families. She wondered how her sister could so easily forget that her dear pet, Lady, was dead because of this boy and his mother. To Mina's dismay, Joffrey sat in the empty seat beside Sansa. At least the boy had the courtesy to ask the servant to fill their glasses with wine; Mina knew she would need it tonight.
As the courses of food came and went, Mina's frustrations only grew. Sansa had hardly spoken a word to her through the entire meal, instead choosing to fawn over her betrothed. The septa's company proved to be little better, as the woman grew increasingly tipsy with every glass of wine until she eventually fell asleep in her seat. Even the array of singers, jugglers and fools couldn't break Mina from her mood. As she signalled over to a servant to refill her wineglass for a third time, Mina caught a sharp glare from her father.
Suddenly, the attentions of all at the table were drawn to a commotion between the king and the queen. The king was quite obviously drunk, and had been for sometime. Mina couldn't quite decipher what the man was yelling about, but she could see the anger in the queen's eyes as she marched away from the table and up the path back towards the castle.
The uproar seemed to not affect Sansa, who let out a polite and demure yawn. Joffrey noticed this and took one of the girl's hands into his own. "It seems my sweet lady is tired, would you like an escort back the castle, my beauty?"
Sansa beamed at the attention. "Yes, that would be ever so lovely, your grace."
Mina looked over at the pair, rather surprised. "But San, they haven't even brought out the desserts yet. Didn't you want some lemon cake?"
Sansa blushed fiercely as her face dropped into a frown, "Don't be so childish, dear sister." From that alone it was clear to Mina that Sansa didn't appreciate her sister's use of her pet name in front of her betrothed. "A lady does not indulge herself in desserts." Sansa looked back to her prince with a sweet smile plastered on her face once again, "An escort really would be much appreciated, Your Grace."
"Dog, come here!" The boy's sharp bark made both the sisters jump. From the shadows, Sandor appeared behind where the sisters and the prince sat. "You will take my lady back to her chambers, she is finished with the festivities for the evening." Mina relished in the look of disappointment clear on Sansa's face; she was growing tired of her little sister's antics.
As Sansa started off towards the castle with Sandor as a chaperone, the servants began the service of the dessert. Mina greedily plucked a few cakes from the trays that passed. Sansa could call her childish all she liked, but Mina had been looking forward to this all evening and she fully intended to enjoy it. As she scooped a hearty piece of lemon cake with cream onto her fork, she caught yet another glare from her father from down the table. She couldn't hear him, but what he mouthed to her was clear, "Go with your sister, now."
Reluctantly, Mina shovelled the bite into her mouth and left the table. She sped up the path as she chewed the lemony sweet. It wasn't long until she caught up with her sister and Sandor, stopped in front of a torch, with the castle not too far off in front of them; he seemed to be snarling at her some.
"You can spare me your ser's, little girl. I see your sister taught you all her pretty little—"
"That will be quite enough, Sandor." Mina interrupted the man before he could scare her sister further. "Why don't you run ahead, San? The castle is just up ahead and I think ser Clegane and I need to discuss a few things." Sansa nodded and quickened her pace up the final steps towards the castle. When she was gone, Mina turned her attentions back to the large man in front of her.
"How dare you talk to my sister in that manner?" Mina stuck a finger into the man's chest, "She's just a little girl, and here you are trying to frighten her!" Sandor wavered in place a bit. Mina thought it odd to see him not wearing armour of any sort, clad instead in a simple tunic with a reddish hue. The large man opened his mouth to speak, but it seemed he could not find the words.
Mina could smell the alcohol on him immediately. "And I see you're drunk again, simply lovely! I can't believe I ever thought—"
"Thought what girl?" Sandor scoffed as he took a step towards Mina. As he moved, his face betrayed a wince. Mina's anger faded as the man's uncharacteristic behaviour began to worry her. "Sandor, are you—"
Sandor grunted and began walking back towards the castle gate. As he climbed the steps, Mina could notice a slight limp in his gate.
"Wait!" Mina sped to catch up with the man, grabbing his hand to stop him. He twisted easily back towards her; the pain on his face was now plainly evident. Mina looked closer at his loose red tunic and noticed a small browning spot on his side. "Sandor, I think you're bleeding!"
"Aren't you an observant one?" The man tried to continue walking, but Mina blocked his path. "It's fine, now run off to bed and let it be, girl."
"How did this happen? Who did this to you?" Mina reached towards the stain, but Sandor swatted her hand away.
"It's just a scratch from the joust today, now bugger off."
Mina had had enough. She yanked up Sandor's tunic to see a blood-soaked bandage, hastily tied around his waste. Sandor winced once more as Mina lifted up the soaked bandage. Even in the dim light, she could tell the wound was serious. "Sandor, this is really bad. Why didn't you call for a maester after your joust?"
"Because I'm fine!" Mina jumped back as the man roared. "Bloody hells, girl. Now if you'll let me go, I need sleep. I've drunk too much drink and I may need to kill my brother in the morning."
"And how do you expect to do that with your side bleeding like that? A cut that deep is not going to heal on its own. If you leave that to bleed much longer, it could kill you. Stay here, I'll go back to the feast and get the maester."
"No." Sandor feebly reached for the girl's elbow to hold her back before she could make her leave. "If I told Pycelle of my injuries, then everyone would know. I'd be a dead man in the final jousts."
"Then pull out! Gods, Sandor! Is your pride more important than your life?"
"I can't. I need to ride tomorrow. Then I'll see a maester. Just let me be, girl. Please." He looked down at her with pleading eyes, his face a sickly pallor. Regardless of her complicated feelings towards the man, Mina knew she couldn't leave him like that; she wouldn't have his death on her conscience.
"Fine. Come with me." Mina helped Sandor up the final steps and through the gates of the Red Keep, stopping in the courtyard outside the tower of the hand. "Go to my chambers and wait for me there. Make sure no one sees you." Sandor cocked an eyebrow at the girl. "You can't leave the wound like that, it will fester. If you won't see the maester, then I'll have to do it. Now, go to my chambers. Do you know the floor? It's the second on your left after the stairs. The maids are all off enjoying the festivities, so there shouldn't be any trouble. I'll be there soon, I just need to grab some things." Sandor hesitated before nodding. "And we'll need wine, see if you can find us some on your way."