Chapter Forty-Six
…..
Osgiliath, The Coliseum
The sound of people cheering starts as the knights paraded in front of them down below. For Robert Baratheon, unsaid professional drunk, this is life. He waves as people cheers his name as he takes the royal seat on the dais. He has to admit that he rather likes the setup of him being at the top and have the perfect view while also be heard when he shouts.
"Your Grace, the cup of victory," a male servants hands to Robert a golden cup filled with wine and petals of flowers.
Robert has to admit that he really likes this new tourney system that the Tully bastard implements. Instead of mountains of prices, she instead created a large empty wall that follows the shape of the stadium. Seeing that the area is very large, the empty wall stretches on for meters round. The victors would have their names etched on the wall, to be preserved and seen by many more knights and spectators as long as the Coliseum last. Robert himself would like his name etched, especially if it's going to be filled with liquid gold for the shaping.
Time to get this party started though.
"PEOPLE OF WESTEROS!" Robert may be fat but his boisterous nature and loud voice still remains. "LET THE GAMES….BEGIN!" he finishes by pouring the combination of wine and flowers at the top of the wall a level below his seat.
Trumpets immediately bellow and the group of knights below disperse into their teams.
Once more Robert can feel the exciting feel of battle. Instead of a regular one on one at a tourney, Delianah divided the event into three elimination rounds since there are so many knights putting their names for the event.
First is battle simulation for cavalry. It is as it is said. A plain battle between groups of cavalry with teams being formed; how the teams are formed are up to the knights. It is in every way according to the paper that Robert has a squire read for him, a simulation of a battle. That includes making alliances and losing them. Already down below the first tell-tale signs of arranged alliances beforehand are being seen. Quite the most of course is no one else but the Red Cloaked form of Ser Kevan Lannister ever surrounded by Lannister knights having the largest group followed by the Reachmen and the Valemen. Other than these three large groups compose of nearly thirty to twenty knights each, the rest of the knights are scattered unto their own personal groups bound in the desire for safety in numbers. Of course seeing that there are only twenty-four knights that need to be chosen as finalists for the next phase, the rest of them would be eliminated, that means making sure that you turn on your companion before he turns on you. It needs proper timing. Betray him too early and the rest of the groups will squash yours. Betray him too late and you'll be eliminated.
Beautiful, as far as Robert is concerned, if not for the nagging of Ned, he might have wanted to join down below. Alas, all he can do is watch and cheer seeing that Stannis and Renly both are also participating.
The sound of the trumpets start again giving off the signal. The knights need no more encouragement as they urge their horses forward in a full gallop against specifically chosen targeted groups.
…..
The Coliseum, Battlefield.
Jon cursed not for the last time, the mouth of Theon Greyjoy as he tries to keep his butt from making an undesired attempt to fly from his saddle.
"Win honor and glory he said! Protect Rob he said! This is nuts!" Jon cursed beneath his breath as he struggles to hold on to his reins as he horse gallops along with the rest of the Northmen.
Theon apparently gets the bright idea that it would be "glorious" to join the Knights' joust since Lord Stark personally forbids them from entering the General Melee making sure that his boys would not end up on any kind of shenanigans. Seeing that they are here however right now hiding under metal leather caps, he is right to worry.
Apparently Theon ropes Robb (and him alongside since he doesn't trust the squid to protect Robb) to join the joust. Apparently despite its risks, it would relatively be safe seeing that the knights would be using blunted lances. Even in defeat, at least they would be able to win glory and fame for the North.
Robb being the gullible fool he is agrees wholeheartedly. Now here they are eating their words. They certainly do not expect that the joust would be remodified into a free for all cavalry slugfest with the winners being those that remain on their horses.
The Greatjon bless his soul along with some of his kinsmen have allowed Robb, Jon and Theon to join the Northern party. Apparently in the Greatjon's wise opinion, the presence of Robb (despite knowing that said father does not approve) and his daring is only proof that he is a true Northener. Despite the Northeners having little to no knights, the tourney is making an exception for them in this event. Of course out of necessity, the fifteen or so Northeners have allied with their closest friends on the South, some Tully knights and of course the five Silver Order members under the command of Ser Leomord now.
Now here Jon is concerned only with one thing, making sure that his head is not going to be the target of some overeager knight wanting to ring his head like a bell. Oh and yes, making sure that Robb doesn't get his ass bodily killed in the process also.
The small group of almost twenty five that he is joining with apparently chooses to face another smaller group from the Reach that does not manage to join the one being led around by Ser Loras Tyrell.
Jon grits his teeth as the blunted tips of the lances tilt downwards and he grips the reins as tight as he can before with a sickening crunch the battle is joined.
….
The Royal Platform, Osgiliath
Technically and officially, this platform is designed to hold only to the royal family and the king himself. Robert however once more disregards all sort of propriety and have happily assigned the Royal Box to be shared to Eddard and his family. Apparently the king wants him close to: "Prevent Lord Stark from being too damned serious all the time".
The Queen of course looks like something bad has taken a ride under her nose and the Crown Prince looks positively gleeful watching the throng of blood, sweat and bodies tumble down at the arena.
As Robert runs a happy commentary however to the elimination round of the joust below them, Eddard can feel his balls literally turning into the semblance of the Stark's ancestral sword as he watches his two idiotic sons and his wayward ward riding alongside the Northener representatives clashing with the Reachmen.
"Look at them go Ned!" booms Robert happily pointing a chubby finger at Robb who throws a Reach Knight off his horse by fully pivoting his lance across his shield making contact with his armor. "My namesake is as good as me when I'm that age. He is a true wolf that one! You must be so proud! They have truly earned your attention and praise,"
Ned says nothing as he grits his teeth so hard that it's a miracle that they haven't broken yet. Oh yeah they earned his attention alright. The moment he gets his hands on those three, he's going to give them a beating of a lifetime that they would never think of riding a horse again without asking for permission from him first.
An agonized moan makes Eddard wince as he looks at his lady wife who is covering her face with her hands. He mentally winces at the sight for two reason. One is because Catelyn has literally zero experience when it comes to anything related to violence with her seeing a yard fight at most. Secondly for himself. He can already imagine the fight that is coming since he is a hundred percent sure that she would be blaming Jon for this escapade of the boys.
Speaking of Jon, Eddard wants nothing more than to knock some sense into the boy also. He understands Theon being a bit rambunctious but he has been expecting his nephew in secret to be able to be the more level headed about this. Apparently he has been putting a little too much trust on the boys and they seriously needed to be knocked down a peg or two.
"Goddamn it Lia! Even from the grave anything related to you are still giving me headaches!" Eddard mentally groans as he watches his Greyjoy ward being bodily sent flying by one of the Reach Knights off his saddle.
…..
Royal Platform, Osgiliath, Five Minutes After the Declaration of the First Elimination Round Over
Twenty pairs, which means forty knights ride in parade as they around the schedule waving to their audiences as they celebrate their victory. Unfortunately none from the motley crew of the North passed and only Ser Brynden Tully of the Riverlands are able to survive. Favorites of course from the Joust are the likes of Ser Barristan, Ser Jaimie, Beric Dondarrion, Loras Tyrell and Robar Royce. Unfortunately Dorne does not manage to snag a participant for the joust, their participant, a knight from House Uller being bodily knocked down by Loras Tyrell.
With the joust done, the troubadors and the performers are having their moment below as the melee contenders prepare themselves for the next two hours for the upcoming melee competition. It is unlike any regular melee from a tourney however. Just like the joust, Delianah designed it differently. The Melee part of the competition is basically a bragging rights competition with teams of twenty grouped together according to the kingdom they belonged in. Of course blunted weapons are still in use and there are no holds barred. The only rules it has is the moment that your back meets the ground, you're automatically out. Suffice it to say that every ruling house have sent the best of the best of their household guards or knights to enter.
"It is a pity that you won't be participating for the melee Lady Delianah," the sudden comment from Queen Cersei brings Delianah out of her thoughts.
"My queen?" she simply stares questioningly at the green eyes of the haughty Lioness.
Deep inside Delianah is still miffed that she can't take a peak inside the pretty head of the queen. It's like looking in fog every time she uses passive legilimancy. Of course she knows that in a more in depth probe can easily pass through it. Doing it so would require concentration and time. Delianah however does not wish to kidnap the Queen of Westeros just to sate her curiosity, no matter how tempting (she can still recall quite clearly the adjectives that Myrcella uses when it comes into describing her mother).
"I have heard of your prowess during the War of the Faith Lady Delianah. It seems that I would be remiss on seeing it for myself," it does not take a genius to see that the queen is as sincere as an elephant dung in the room based on her tone alone. The question though is why?
"Many would not like a woman participating in an event reserved only for men your grace," Delianah replies sagely (in her opinion).
"Nonsense, Lady Delinah. I personally would very like to witness the Dame who defeated the armies of the Faith with willpower and tenacity alone. I could care less about the opinion of other men. Besides, she smiles (irritating) sweetly at her fat husband as she caresses his arms at the side.
"Would you like to see the Lady Delianah in action my love?"
Despite no matter how much Delianah likes the Bobby B imitation, she totally lost all respect to the man as he bobs his head quite excitedly at the prospect of seeing her fight. Yep, as far as Delianah is concerned, the fat lug has zero to none experience when it comes to recognizing manipulation. No wonder he is best friends with the cold Lord of Winterfell. The man is almost as talented as Robert when it comes in the political field.
"Very well, as my king and queen commands it," Delianah acquiesces with a bow before standing up.
If they want her to show off and fight then she'll make sure that she gives them a showing. She's not dumb of course. The queen bitch is playing an angle she can't see. Whatever she is heading into is a trap. Best way on dealing with traps is doing it Harry Potter style of course. She's going to spring the trap and she's going to enjoy watching their shocked disappointed expressions afterwards.
…..
The Royal Platform, Osgiliath, Ten Minutes After the Declaration of the First Elmination Round.
Myrcella surprises herself with the small fact that she hasn't succeeded on grinding yet her teeth to dust as she observes Delianah talking with her mother before standing up and walking off to gods only know where. Her fingers are bunched up on the skirts of her dress and she barely notices that she tearing through the fabric through her fingers turned to claws in worry.
"I understand daughter, our line it seems is always doomed to tread forbidden love. Don't worry though Myrcella for I will take care of everything,"
Till now the words of her mother last night still haunts her till now. She knows more than anyone else how "protective" her mother is. Sure she means well but she strangles them sometimes. It seems almost an age but she can still quite frankly remember how much sheltered she became under her care. She does not know the real worlds, does not see it or feel it as she does here in Rivendell. She has no friends, only a broken family and a brother that is half mad.
"Would you like to enter the archery contest sister?" his brother, Joffrey now bored due to the lack of fighting asks ignoring the minstrels performing a song below as he focuses on her instead. "Not as a participant mind you; they would never let a woman handle a bow. Maybe as a target? If you enter as a substitute for the running pig or elk I will also enter after you. I do miss our time together in…..target practice. It has been a while since I practiced with my crossbow and Tommen is too much of a crybaby when being shot at,"
Myrcella opts simply to say nothing as she bears all his words with silent grace. She can't wait for the damned minstrels to finish performing so that she can excuse herself and go after Delianah, hopefully preventing any kind of surprise her mother might have for her.
….
Osgiliath, Lord Paramounts Dais
"You've got to be kidding me!" Catelyn can't believe it. Everything from the start of this day has gone wrong. From her eldest son, galvanizing off with the bastard and the squid and joining the damned bloodfest down below and now to her father refusing her request to disavow Delianah from her name.
"She is my daughter also Catelyn and your sister. There is not a chance in Seven Hells that I am disavowing her and declaring her a bastard just because you asked me to!" Hoster Tully replies, eyes looking at her coldly.
"But she is a bastard father! She is born of sin! The gods demand it. She is a threat to Edmure and to all of our House. Already she owns half of the Riverlands that should one day be ruled by my brother, your true born son!" she reasons out pleadingly.
For the life of her she does not understand why is her father refusing her perfectly reasoned request. This is the first time that her father truly refused her. Hasn't she done her duty without question? She always has brought the familial duties of her family, so why is her father not saying yes?
"She won her territories by right of conquest sister," color her surprised when it's not her father that answered but her brother instead. "Besides you can tell by the change that she is bringing that it is good,"
She is even more surprised to see Edmure colored purple and blue, courtesy of a hedge knight pummeling him during the joust. Despite his injuries, she has never seen her brother so active. Sure he attends tourneys and tend to bet also on contenders like any lord, however she has never seen him being so participant on one….ever. Now as she looks at him closely up and down, she notices that he looks energetic, to energetic in fact. It reminds her of the time when she put too much sugar on his tea and he is bouncing all over the walls
"Brother, you're supporting her?" she asks in disbelief.
Edmure only shrugs at her words even as he winces when a maester dabs a cloth soaked in poultice at his pulped face. "She is family is she not? It is right to only support her. Besides…," he smiles making Catelyn wince as she sees bloody teeth and gums. "She's the most brilliant out of all of us and brought the Riverlands much glory and riches. She also has shown no interest about the seat of the Lord Paramount. Mind you, now that you're saying it. She's even forcing me to read more to "prepare" me for the position,"
"So you're not removing her from our House's name?" Catelyn asks unable to fully mask the hiss from her tone.
"No, despite her former status, she has succeeded on putting more glory on the Tully family name than anyone in our line has. As long as I'm head of this House, she will always have a place on this family; and Catelyn,"
"Yes father?" Catelyn gulps at the cold tone that her father never uses on her.
"I would hear no more of this talk of bastardry from you regarding your sister alright? Remember our House Words and be true to them. Continue with this attitude of yours and you would find yourself out of this family yourself," he simply warns making Catelyn gulps squashing flat her desire to outrage at the fact that she's the one getting the reprimand instead of the bastard.
"Yes, father. Nothing more will be said about this," she dutily answers with a bow. The bastard will have her day, she swears it.
….
Osgiliath Armory Rooms, Coliseum
Oberyn Martell happily twirls his spear over his head ignoring the squawk sounds of surprise from her squires as they step back to avoid the deadly weapon of the Red Viper of Dorne from nicking them. Suffice it to say that Oberyn as usual is full of giddy energy as he awaits the call for the upcoming Elimination Round of the Melee for the Tourney. He hasn't joined the joust.
As far as Oberyn is concerned, jousts are only for play fighting, a bad imitation of the real deal. Unfortunately he regrets it as he sees how different the Tully bastard is organizing the events. Already ten knights are dead from the Elmination Round of the Jousts alone thanks to accidents.
Now here he is ready and prepared, full of excitement for the Melee. He and his men are already prepared wearing the familiar yellow and brown leathers of Dorne only as protection. Unlike the rest of the Westeros after all, Dornishmen prefer to fight light on their feet and mobile. That's why the best spear wielders always come from Dorne. Also today they would be representing the sands of their country and Oberyn is ready to prove that the hot sands of the deserts he calls home maintain their pride.
If he's lucky, he would also get a shot facing the Mountain and cause an accident during the fight. It is not uncommon after all for such incidents to occur within a hectic event such as this. One wound, that's all he need to put down the beast of a man that raped and murdered his sister and her children.
Putting down his spear to rest his hand, Oberyn looks at the audiences and freezes. His hand goes slack and his prized weapon drops to the ground like a piece of wood. He does not care however as he steps forward, his eyes piercing light and shadow as he stares at a face on the crowd. It is a face that he never imagines in his entire life that he would ever see again.
For there in the crowd is a young Dornish girl that alarmingly looks a lot like her sister, Elia Martell when she's a lot younger.
….
Author's Note: Hi so I'm back. I had to admit I'm having a serious mental block these past few days regarding the story. Anyhow next chapter's a lot more action packed compared to this one.