Part 110:

The final Joust was Sandor Clegane verses Balon Swann, and Renly quietly dubbed it the battle of the failed Kingsguards. Arya thought that was rather harsh, it was neither Balon nor Sandor that had failed, it was their Kings, for Balon first Robert had failed him, then Joffrey. (Whilst Sandor had been failed by both he had only been a Kingsguard for Joffrey, if one was to say that Robert failed him then they best not forget that Aerys failed him as well.) The Joust was close, both men knew each other's fighting styles well, but Sandor managed to break two lances on Balon's chest, while Balon only broke one on Sandor. Arya held Alyssa gently in her arms as the two men stood before the royal box, Balon Swann's shoulders slumped in shame.

Renly seemed intent to exasperate both men, he stood, Toby held in his right arm, and gave a long speech on honour and duty, the winner's purse held tightly in his left hand. He offered Sandor a knighthood, which Sandor sharply refused, as he had done many times before. Renly seemed neither surprised, nor insulted, instead he passed Toby to Gendry and descended the steps until he was eye to eye with Sandor. (Jon had returned to the Red Keep, complaining of a headache, and had taken the three other girls and one of the wet nurses with him.) Sandor was maybe an inch taller, maybe six inches wider, but Renly was a Baratheon, and the King, and for once he made no attempt to look smaller than he was.

"Why?" Renly asked calmly. "Why do you continuously refuse a title coveted by so many? How many Kings have offered to make you a knight now?" Sandor moved his mouth as if to respond but Renly raised his left hand, silencing him. Renly stepped past Sandor and faced the crowd. "Does anybody know why? I do, it's because of the Mountain." He stepped deeper into the field. "Gregor Clegane was knighted by Prince Rhaegar himself, at Tywin's asking, and it was Gregor Clegane that raped Elia Martell, split her in two, and brutally murdered her children. Rhaegar's children. Gregor was no true knight, knighthoods are given too freely, and for many generations the unworthy have sullied the title of Ser! Gregor was but one example! Under my rule that changes, knights will be held accountable for their actions, as will those that knighted them. Perhaps that will make a poor hedge knight think twice about giving a knighthood for a purse of gold dragons?! Perhaps that will make them ensure the man, or woman, is worthy of the title?! Rhaegar did not do his due diligence! If he had, he'd had asked questions about the scared brother!" He pointed at Sandor. "Or the sister that simply disappeared!"

The crowd roared in response to Renly's words, Arya watched them as they took in every word. Renly was playing them like a musician would play at a harp, he'd been tuning them for days, tightening one string here, loosening another string there, Jon was right, Renly wanted to change the rules of knighthood. It was a dangerous game, to take on the power of the church, but as Renly worked the crowd it seemed apparent that he was winning, for now. Arya turned her gaze to Sandor, still as a statue, quiet and looming, like the Titan of Bravos. Sandor didn't like how he was being used, that was clear to Arya, but would not be clear to most. She wanted to stop Renly, it wasn't right for him to use Sandor as a pawn in his game, Sandor's scars ran deeper than his burns.

Before she could think about what she was doing she was standing, Alyssa still clutched in her arms. "My King!"

The crowd drew silent as Renly turned to face her. "Princes Arya." His lips were smiling, but his eyes were not.

Arya drew in a breath, what had she been thinking? She opened her mouth, unsure what words would pour out of it. For a moment the scent of Alyssa's elderflower crown (she hadn't destroyed it today) filled Arya's senses, and a calmness washed over her. …the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth. She didn't need to think, she knew what to say, she could see it. Her voice was steady and clear as she spoke. "Sandor Clegane has never needed a knighthood. He does not need one any more than Lyra Mormont does, he doesn't require a code, or the gods, to tell him what is right and what is wrong, he is capable of working that out for himself."

Renly's smile brightened, seeming to stretch to his eyes now. "Arya, Arya, I love the pureness of your Northern heart, is this what your Old Gods teach? That every man knows the difference between right and wrong, and every man must choose?"

Arya nodded, they were almost her father's words, he had taught that very lesson under the Weirwood many times. "Yes." She agreed, slightly startled at how well Renly gasped the concept, despite being raised under the Seven, her own mother seemed unable to grasp it.

Renly nodded. "And yet the Seven Pointed Star teaches that we need the guidance of the Father, the compassion of the Mother, and the Wisdom of the Crone to know right from wrong."

Arya nodded, her mother had forced her to read from the Seven Pointed Star often. "My mother educated me in the Light of the Seven," She replied. "Seven points, one star… seven faces, but only one god. The Father and the Stranger are the same, the Maid and the Crone are the same, the Mother, the Warrior, and the Smith are the same… one god, many faces, and one of them is death. A man, or woman, needs to work out what is right for themselves."

Renly nodded eagerly, he seemed happy with her reply. "Yes," He agreed. "The gods can only guide us so far, but that is why knights are so important, both to protect, and to guide. A true knight is a shining example of what is right, they should embody the Seven, the Stranger has his place, those that fail to do so must be stripped of their titles, and the question must be asked as to how they got them in the first place." Renly turned his attention to the crowd, now was the moment when he would strike, it had to be, but if he missed his mark… The friendly mask was gone, Renly drew himself up to his full height, his expression earnest, his blue eyes sincere. Yes, he was using the situation to his advantage, but he still meant every word.

"I cannot change the laws of knighthoods, only the church can do that!" The words bordered on sacrilege, Arya found herself holding her breath, waiting for the crowd to react as Renly allowed the sudden silence to stretch on a second more. "If I could, Father, hear my words! If I could I would make knighthoods less freely given. Being a knight does not necessarily make one equipped to knight another, one honourable act does not make an honourable man!" Hushed whispers rolled over the crowd and Arya clutched Alyssa tighter as Renly continued. "But I am just one voice, the gods punished Rhaegar for his lack of due diligence, the church are the voice of the Seven. I pray that the Seven will speak to them, and I promise I will bring the Father's justice on any soul that is not a true knight, just as I have done with those that would cheat in this tournament." The crowd cheered loudly at the declaration, but Arya could not bring herself to smile, she could feel a coldness in the pit of her stomach, Renly had overreached, the Church would not take this lightly. She turned to Gendry and found that he looked equally concerned.

He lent in close, Toby in his arms. "I'll double the guard." He whispered. Arya nodded, as Renly gave Sandor his purse and returned she managed to force a smile onto her lips, but she knew it was as fake as most of Renly's.

~~/~~

The sixth day of the tournament dawned bright and clear as men (and some women) prepared for the Melee. Brienne's weapon of choice was the Morningstar that Gendry had forged for her, Oberyn's was a spear, Nym entered the Melee with double daggers. Alysane and Lyra Mormont appeared to have every weapon that they could reasonably carry, so did the Goodbrother triplets. Sandor had chosen not to participate, declaring it an irresponsible act for the head of a house, he seemed to be taking his new position very seriously.

Ser Hyle Hunt was eliminated early, and perhaps somewhat foolishly. He'd charged and taken a blow intended for Brienne, a strike from behind that could have done her much harm. It certainly did him quite a bit of harm, his armour having crumpled in at the left shoulder under a blunted war axe, yet Arya doubted that Brienne appreciated the 'act of chivalry'. Gormond and Gran Goodbrother had eliminated Balon Swann, the triplets alternating between sticking together and trying to eliminate each other. Eventually the competition was whittled down until only Brienne, Graydon Goodbrother, and Alysane Mormont remained. Alysane took Graydon out with a mace to the leg, a blow that must have hurt even with armour, but she'd taken her eyes off of Brienne to make the shot. Suddenly Brienne was behind her, a dagger at her throat, Alysane was thankfully smart enough to yield.

By the time the Melee was finished Arya hardly had enough time to return to the Red Keep, feed Visarya, and change into whatever dress Renly had come up with. She half-heartedly hoped that he'd let her out of their bet, but the dress was waiting for her when she returned to her room. Arya could only gasp at the sight of the dress, it was like something from the songs that Sansa had always loved. It looked horrendously elaborate and heavy. The dress must have taken months to make and it made Arya wonder how long Renly had been plotting to put her into it, but as she began to inspect the gold and black demark on the structured bodice of the dress she began to frown. There were black stag heads, face on, but no signs of a crown, they were arranged in interlocking rows so that each stag's head was halfway above or below the stag's heads beside it, but that wasn't what had caused Arya to frown, every third vertical row of stags had another image nestled between their antlers, a turtle, the skirt of the dress was the same rich fabric, and heavily lined.

Elenie had decided that Arya would wear the yellow chiffon undershirt with the dress, and apparently Renly had found that acceptable, but had supplied a structured five layer petticoat to make the dress full and rich, and wider at the hips, the lace of the petticoats had taken on that beautiful soft yellow colour which old white lace sometimes gets. The petticoat looked as if it had been designed specifically for the dress, and was Arya's first clue that the dress was old, she wasn't used to such a stiff bodice, and it took a bit to get her into it, but once it was fitted correctly she was surprised by how comfortable it was. With the undershirt the dress could have been worn as a dress in its own right, had the weather been warmer, yet there was another layer to come, a coat style overdress, complete with hood, in rich black velvet, trimmed and lined with the same demark fabric.

The sleeves of the coat-dress were split from shoulder to elbow, which allowed Arya to slip it on easily despite the elaborate sleeves of the yellow chiffon shirt, Roslin and Sarella then tied bands of matching demark just above the elbows to hold the large drop sleeves of the coat dress in place whilst Elenei laced it to a close at the front waist, then came a fabric belt of the same demark, that ran to the floor. Surprisingly Arya's yellow diamond gorget and cuffs seemed almost made for the dress. Arya traced one of the sleeves, frowning, as Elenei went to retrieve the Baratheon tiara. Sarella removed the ruby tiara and Roslin adjusted her hairstyle as she traced the demark pattern on one of her sleeves. "Why turtles?" She hadn't intended to ask the question aloud, yet as she continued to trace the fabric Roslin had an answer anyway.

"House Estermont." The words were almost difficult to understand between the hair pins Roslin was holding between her lips.

House Estermont, Cassana Estermont? Cassana Barathon? Had this dress belonged to Renly's mother? Gendry's grandmother? The style seemed to fit the High Court of the Targaryen era… she looked up, the question on her lips, but she suddenly caught sight of Elenei standing perfectly still holding the Baratheon tiara. "Ella?"

Elenei's fingers seemed to grip the waves of metal tighter for a second, like she didn't want to give it to Arya, then she forced her fingers to relax and walked towards Arya. As Elenei positioned the tiara carefully on Arya's head Arya noticed just how much taller than her Elenei had gotten, the taller women adjusted Arya's hair a little then nodded. "You look like a Storm Queen."

Arya's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, there was something about Elenei's reaction to the tiara, it reminded her of her own reaction when she had first seen the Crown of Winter, was there more to the tiara? Was it possible that one person could feel a power that another was completely shut out from? No, that didn't make sense, she'd felt the power of the dragon-skin armour. "But Monford said Orys Baratheon hadn't." The other self reminded her. "A Baratheon should be wearing that tiara, not you. You're not paying attention, you're forgetting things. Look with your eyes, that's the key." The voice was faint, like a ghost she'd thought she'd exorcised long ago, but it was still there, the reminder that there was an angry little part of herself that was separate still.

"What am I forgetting." She thought in frustration, but before the other self could answer there was a knock on the door.

The knock was Gendry, he looked handsome as always, or maybe Arya was bias? He wore the same formal outfit he usually wore, his yellow surcoat over his Valyrian chain mental with the ruby on Valyrian steel sash over that, he wore the golden coronet that he had worn every day of the tournament. Tonight his shoulders were adorned with a short cape, yellow trimmed with black. The golden chain was gone, Promise was at his side. He gave Arya a weary smile as he noticed her eyeing up the sword. "Let Renly argue it," He shrugged. "After what he did today I'm not taking any chances, Jon's wearing Longclaw too."

Arya frowned. "Then I should be able to wear my blades."

Gendry shook his head. "You lost a bet, you have to play princess, I didn't."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Renly never said no to the sword. Sarella..?" Arya turned, but Sarella already had the black satin belt in hand, a smile on her face.

"Knew I'd enjoy serving you." Sarella grinned, she turned her attention to Roslin. "Go, get ready, Ella and I have got this, best not keep your husband waiting too much longer."

Roslin grinned. "Aurane doesn't mind." She replied. "Besides, we're seated far further down the table than Monford, nobody will notice if we're late."

~~/~~

Maybe Renly had been right? Maybe they were worrying over nothing? The evening passed rather uneventfully, people drank, and sang (Mace Tyrell sang) and enjoyed themselves, but nothing that appeared concerning happened. Renly made no complaints about Arya wearing her blades, however, if anything he seemed amused by it. It was late when Arya and Gendry finally made their way back to her room, Gendry laid on the bed, a smile on his face, while Arya gave Visarya her late night feed. For once he'd actually relaxed and drunk a little, allowed a little of the stress to slip off of his wide shoulders. He was so relaxed, in fact, that by the time Arya had finished breastfeeding he'd dozed off to sleep.

Arya smirked to herself, removed his boots and sword belt for him, then began to undress. As she took off the tiara she realised that her neck wasn't as sore as she had expected, maybe her neck muscles had gotten stronger over the week? She placed the tiara carefully on its blue velvet cushion and continued to undress. She took the dress off carefully and hung it up, giving it the respect it deserved, it would have been easier to have somebody to assist her, but she had no intention of waking anybody up to help her undress. She pulled on her nightdress, placed a blanket over Gendry, then carefully climbed into bed beside him, quickly falling into a deep and pleasant sleep.

As to what she might have dreamed of she couldn't say, but she woke late morning, to the sound of Gendry shushing Visarya, and the smell of bacon. "Morning sleepyhead." Gendry smiled at her. "Vissy's hungry."

Arya pulled a face and reached for Visarya. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Gendry shrugged. "You seemed to be having an interesting dream."

Arya frowned as she got Visarya to feed, she tried to remember what she'd been dreaming about, but all she could remember was eyes. Wolf eyes; amber, yellow, green, red, grey, blue. Dragon eyes; dark grey shot with flecks of white and blue, opal eyes pale as milkglass, unearthly silver blue eyes, eyes like molten gold, bronze eyes, dark red eyes like burning pits… Cold blue eyes that screamed of death! She shuddered. "I dreamed of lots of things… do I smell bacon?"

~~/~~