Author's Notes

Here we have it, day one of the Tourney At Harrenhal. There also nearly was a lemon scene here between Naraiz, Lyarra, Joanna, and Rhaella but instead the scene that happens is less than fun sexy times for our boi. The scene to me felt a bit out of place given the current developing situation with Lyarra's kids. But, we have other things... like Rhaegar being a Nice Guy... that's nice.

And a shout out to everyone in Texas, I hope you are doing well and staying as warm as you can. Try to stay safe.


Never before had he had such a difficult time doing what he excelled at. Varys prided himself on his skills to vanish in a crowd, to blend into the background, and find a place among any group. But here in Harrenhal he was feeling like every step he took watched by just about everyone. People spoke to him differently, purposefully, like they knew.

"Ey, get back to the fairground. You know you can't be back here!" The spymaster of the Iron Throne slunk away when one of the Black Cloaks shouted at him. His latest attempt at trying to get inside the sections of the keep that were off limits to the general public was another failure. The king had not ordered him to find any secrets on the Sith, this was personal.

Ever since that fateful day when a mad sorcerer castrated him and threw his parts into the fire, he had a cold hatred of anything… abnormal. It did not belong in the world nor was it ever a proponent of peace. It was chaos and Varys sought to rid the realm of chaos. Though… much of what the Sith had done was against that philosophy. The things that they did brought wealth and prosperity to the masses, and were champions of the freed and broken chains of slaves. It contrasted with his past experiences of magic users quite hard.

The Master of Whispers traveled back to the outer grounds of the keep, a wide and spacious fairground that separated the curtain walls of the keep proper and the inner walls of the city. Here there all the usual things a festival had, games, an abundance of food, music and other entertainment. But those very thing included in them innovations and variations never before seen. As well, expos of new technology and practices that could be replicated across the realm. New tools, new building techniques and materials, mass produced practical and comfortable clothing, and all of these things and more.

Nobility and commoners alike traveled about the fairground, coming from far across Westeros to see it. Varys waded through the crowds with better success than he had been having, just another face lost in crowd. He picked up talk and whispers, generally awe and excitement over everything people were experiencing. It was hard to see anything nefarious going on.

"This way Thoren! I think a saw a sweet stand over there!" His ears picked up when he heard a name that he made sure to remember. Gazing between the mass of people walking through the lane of stalls and tents, the spymaster spotted five robed individuals. Three of which had red trimmings on their otherwise black robes while the other two had blue. Varys recognized the style of robe as that the Neophytes of the Sith order generally wore.

"Come on, I want to check out some of the games. Pretty sure I can win Sabas a prize or two." One of the males, a young man with a large scar across his face said. To Varys, he looked lowborn, though from where he couldn't tell… which usually meant King's Landing. Next to him however the other males were more easily identifiable as he had seen them two years ago at the first graduation of Sith. Thoren Smallwood, Karne Westerling, and Cayle Caswell, all names that had slowly been growing in popularity in the realm.

Thoren Smallwood had been working with many lords in the Westerlands and Reach to root out smugglers. Rumor had it, the young man had a crusade against the criminal element of Westeros for some personal reason. But Varys knew the truth, that he was searching for his believed to be dead father turned traitor to the realm. The Master of whispers did not see fit to tell the King as it seemed Thoren was doing the just thing and attempting to bring in his father to justice. Why ruin a promising young man's future? That is what Varys told himself anyway, the matter that the boy was a sorcerer made the choice all the more difficult.

The other two, while not nearly as active or achieving what little fame Thoren had, were making their own small waves. Karne had been very active in the Vale, fighting mountain tribesmen and making friends among the Vale Lords. Though much more of the former rather than latter as Varys recalled. Cayle on the other hand for a time was in Essos, learning all he could about the Dothraki horse riders. Before finally returning with a genuine Dothraki Stallion… of which even Varys wasn't exactly sure how he got it. But since then he had participated in a few joisting matches and won most of them.

"She's not going sleep with you because you got her a stuff toy Kavvin. Her and Lusia are both only interested in how much gold or fame a guy has. Though at least Sabes isn't so obvious about it." Cayle mocked the now named Kavvin who waved off the disregard of his efforts to woo his chosen lady. Varys followed the group of Neophytes, hoping to possibly hear something interesting. He doubted that they would talk about some great secret Darth Nagash had told them but at the very least juicy gossip could come in handy later.

"Have you seen some of the prizes, they really put in a lot of work to make all of them." The young woman among them pointed to several of the hanging prizes that the games offered. Varys did have to admit the wide array of small toys and knickknacks that had been made for this festival was… unusual. "Thoren, you think that you could win me one?"

"You are perfectly capable of winning one of these silly games yourself." Varys wasn't sure if this was going to be fruitful but continued to follow the group of Neophytes through the fair. They stopped at games, food stalls, and various expos. One of which did greatly interest Varys as it was for a machine that could print out pages of books over and over again. Something like that could result in literacy going through the roof, and that could be both good and bad for a spymaster. More people that could read and write meant more people that might write down secrets better not seen by others, but it also meant that his own agents, often kids, could dig their noses in places they should leave to him.

"You're not going to get another out of them." Varys' thoughts were interrupted as a woman sat down next to him at the benches that surrounded the small expo stage. "We are all under express orders to keep talk between us as vague or uninteresting as possible." Varys narrowed his eyes, his gut reaction to this would be feign ignorance but he had a feeling that would prove useless. So instead, he opted to not insult the person that discovered him.

"It has been a very long time since anyone has picked me out my dear? My I have the name of such a sharp eyed individual?" He dropped the old man persona he had been keeping in the crowd and reverted to the Lord Varys one he had been playing for a good time now.

"Mysa Sand, aspiring spy master of the Sith Order." Ah, a capable youth. Even in this business of theirs, it did his heart warm to see such enthusiasm and raw talent in someone so young.

"But I take it you aren't the one that has been keeping myself and others from… checking in on Harrenhal?" That seemed to be the best point of conversion. Not only was it topical but also a means to gather information. That was the duel of words between spy masters, to both gain and protect information. He of course lost nothing as it was common knowledge to even those not in the know that everyone with a spy network was trying to expand into Harrenhal.

"No, that would be the one that has been tailing you since you first arrived." Another? Varys was indeed going to have to continue training his craft… or would that do him any good given the powers he was working against. "She's-" Before Mysa could speak further, a long throwing needle pierced the bench between them without making a sound.

"Tsk-tsk… seems you've let on more than you were allowed to." He giggled a little at the youth's misstep. "But I do thank you, seems I won't be able to do my work as I wish here. I think a change in circles is necessary." If he was going to strike out with finding info on the Sith, so be it. There were plenty of other groups and individuals here at the tourney that required his attention. "It has been a pleasure Mysa Sand, I look forward to seeing what friends you find in the world."

"Before you go I do have a message from Darth Nagash." Oh well that was certainly unexpected. "He says that worthless old men staring into fires are more likely to trip on their robes into that fire than approach anything close to insight into the Force."

"Thank you for the message." Varys gave a short bow and then stood up and walked away from the Neophyte, a few new things on his mind.


It disgusted him, seeing his people give up what made them Westerosi in favor of all this nonsense. As the undercover Prince moved through the crowd of people, his head covered in a hood to try and hide his identity. However, his silver hair and violet eyes weren't the markers they were in other places as former slaves of Lys also had those traits and they made up a bulk of the freed slaves that made up the population of Harrenhal. Nevertheless there were still people here that would recognize him.

"They will come to their senses once I show them who truly has betrayed them." He muttered to himself as what looked to be a mixed family of a Essosi man and Westerosi woman and a young girl of mixed heritage passed him. This was the degradation of the realm. Foreign influence both from Essos, a land that failed the Valarian people, and from unknown shores from the western seas.

Rhaegar knew that the gods had chosen him and this land to be the beacon of humanity, and sully Westeros with people and culture that had clearly shunned Valyria and what it stood for when Westeros accepted Targaryen rule was unacceptable. But he would change that, he would right the wrongs his mad father had made. Through quill and sword he would bring Westeros back on the path of righteousness. But first, he needed to fulfill the qualifications of destiny.

Right now he was swimming in the cesspool of the Sith's so called progress, looking for Lyanna Stark. He had failed to make an impression before thanks to that debauched thing that Darth Nagash called an opening ceremony. But now he was sure that he could find her and plant the seeds of love and destiny in her. Her engagement to Robert Baratheon was nothing, once he was king he could nullify it and divorce his disappointment of a wife. He would have fulfilled the Song of Ice and Fire, and mark the beginning of a new pure age.

Soon enough, he found who he was looking for. Lyanna was with her betrothed, Eddard Stark and Benjen Stark. The Prince kept to the shadows, optimally it would be best to catch her alone but he doubted that her brothers would do so. While he had little respect for Robert as he was a obvious loud oaf, Eddard Stark had a reputation as a honorable and serious young noble. Benjen Stark, while a Acolyte of the Sith, was still a Stark and Rhaegar hoped that he would follow his brother's example even while in the clutches of the Sith.

But much to his mixed surprise and disappointment, the men did leave Lyanna Stark. After a discussion Lyanna removed herself from the men. This was good for Rhaegar but he was disappointed by Robert and the Stark brothers. A woman should not be left alone in a place like this, surely she would be taken advantage of or possibly harmed. The gods were fickle in their web of fate as now here he was given the best possible opportunity thanks to the irresponsibility of others.

The prince followed Lyanna Stark through the throngs of festival goers, keeping an eagle eye out for any foul degenerates that would take advantage of a unaccompanied woman. Not only would he being doing his duty but also it would give him the perfect chance to come and save her and show her that he was a true knight and far more worthy of her affections. But none such opportunity came, instead he found a chance to speak with her when she ventured into a less populated part of the fair and sat down at a empty stall serving… not Westerosi food.

"Give me whatever you recommend." She naively asked the man working the stall. Rhaegar would have to make sure that once they were in love and married that she would be protected from her own curiosity. He sat down next to her, still disguised and didn't order anything from the foreign man. "Excuse me, do you need something?" Lyanna asked incredulously, he would forgive her this time as he was disguised.

"Just ensuring that the daughter of Lord Stark is taken care of." He turned his head, showing his face to her and flashing a smile that had won the hearts of many ladies of the court.

"I thank you but I can take care of myself." She retorted and the prince was taken aback by her attitude. He did hear that Lyanna Stark was something of a wild girl in her youth but surely Lord Stark had taught her how to be a proper lady.

"But wouldn't it be better to have a valiant knight escorting you my lady." Such a offer would be seen as the greatest honor for any of the ladies at court, however that didn't seem to work as Lyanna just scoffed and moved to the next seat over. Rhaegar was dumbstruck at his failure to immediately win her heart as he had done so many times before. Minutes passed by as he tried to come to terms with what just happened and was only brought out of it by the sound of the stall owner handing a bowl of strange food to the noble lady. This was his next chance. "Wait, how can you trust that hasn't been poisoned." A loud clang echoed from the stall as the very large and muscular chief held a large frying pan in on hand having just smacked it on the table.

"Buddy, first you come in and start bothering the lady and now you are insulting me and my food by suggesting I would poison her. You either need to get the fuck out or I'm getting the Black Cloaks and they can sort you out." Impossible, lady Stark looked more impressed by this former slave foreigner than him. The prince of the realm, was his power of disguise so great that they didn't' even recognize his royalty. How dare he?! How dare this nobody challenge the destined Prince that was Promised!

He would make sure that this bug would be punished but for now he thought to not to any more to his mission than he might have already done. So, with great shame he removed himself from the stall and left his lady behind. Knowing that if she didn't recognize him then no hard feelings could be gathered by this incident. He would have to retreat and rethink his approach. There was the Melee later today, perhaps winning it would show her that he was a far better protector than her betrothed. And he would use this mess as a inspiration, if people were going to mistake him for a former slave from Lys he would use that to his advantage. Afterall, no one could claim that he won the Melee from his status as prince if he only revealed who he was once he won. And with his skill and fate on his side he could not lose.


After the third dress Cersei had decided that yes, this new wave of fashion and progress by the Imperials was a good thing. The young Lannister girl looked at herself in the mirror, the fabric of the dress was unlike anything she had felt on her skin and the simple yet elegant design complimented her body wonderfully. There was also the influence of Imperial fashions as she assumed, small triangular metal clasps were used in place of buckles as one example. Meanwhile some of the other dresses and suits she had seen gave a militant feeling to Cersei, she had avoided those.

"You look stunning." She hid her eye roll as Oris Marryweather complimented her. The fool was still thinking that he could impress her father enough to take her hand. As if she would allow such a thing to happen. But… it did make her worry.

So few men of high enough quality were left in Westeros. The Prince had been married off to that husk of a woman Elia, the king was as mad as they said he was if he considered that Dornish tramp to be a better fit for his son than her. If she couldn't have a royal wedding then the lowest she would accept was another Great House. And currently the only available suiters of that caliber were Willas Tyrell, Oberyn Martell, Robert Arryn, and Grayjoy sons. And none of them were what Cersei hoped for in a husband. She supposed that Willas was the most likely candidate if father was considering it at the moment. But he wasn't the prince and he certainly wasn't her Jamie.

"Thank you Oris." It felt wrong addressing the man by his first name but there was little she could call him. The Faith was refusing to allow any Sith to be knighted despite the great efforts of a few Sith to prove themselves worthy of the title. And while Oris was still in line of succession, he wasn't a lord. "I will take all of them. Please have the others sent to our hotel room."

She gave the address, a new concept that she was genuinely shocked that it hadn't been thought of sooner, and went on her way wearing the last dress she had liked the best. Exiting the large tent that served as a expo and shop for all the new fashions, Cersei arrived to a less populated fair than she had left. Picking up on a group of excited peasants, that was one of her complaints for the Sith… allowing the classes to mix like this, that the Melee was soon beginning. Her eyes lit up as she knew that Jamie would be participating in the festivals Melee. With her escort in tow she walked through the fair was allowed access to the Lannister booth of the arena that had been built for the big event. In hit she found several of her relative, most of whom kept their distance as they should. Most of them.

"That is a new look, already enjoying what the coming age as to offer." Cersei hid her contempt as her aunt Genna walked over. The young Lannister girl snidely thought to herself that her elder probably pried herself from the nearby buffet to speak to her. But at the very least she wasn't as bad as her devil spawn of a brother or uncle Gerion. The latter of whom was likely showing the former around as Gerion seemed to utterly devoid of the correct sense to be disgusted by Tyrion.

"Yes, many of them were perfectly for my fit. I wouldn't recommend you get too excited. Ow." Cersei grasped her ear after her aunt flicked her earlobe.

"Don't sass me child. I'm not the rest of them, I actually can stand up to your father." The insufferable woman sat down next to her with a smug and assured smile that Cersei knew was deserved. It was true, her aunt Genna was one of the few people her father refused to punish despite her many demands for him to do so. "Just sit back, look pretty, and cheer for your brother."

"I was going to do that even if you didn't tell me to." Cersei pouted but cheered up as the horns blared and the first round of the Melee opened up. In came several knights, noblemen, and low born fighters that had the coin to enter. Thirty contestants were put in a line where they were presented before the double leveled arena. The lower stands filled with visitor and local peasants alike while the upper stands were built for the various noble families. It was marvelous construction made even more so by the fact it was a temporary structure.

Cersei didn't see Jamie among the first round of battle, but she did see both of the Stark Brothers, Euron Grayjoy, and several other noblemen. There also a Lyseni that looked very familiar to her but she dismissed him as he was bare of any coat of arms and while very handsome that was the normal for people from that Free City. Then out came three men dressed quite ridiculously, all wearing garments striped in black and white and all carrying these strange cone things. But at least the cones were quickly apparent as they were used.

"Welcome people of Westeros!" One of the men spoke into the cone and his voice was amplified to be loud enough to reach the entire arena. "Today we will be witnessing the valor and skill of the many fighters this realm has to offer. These men will be divided into two teams and then pitted against each other in mock combat." The crowd cheered in excitement before one of the other men began speaking.

"The rules are simple, respect us the referees, no dismemberment, and no crippling blows. If you are disarmed, leave the battlefield, if you fall you are eliminated from the battle and be required to leave the battlefield, the battle will end once one side has been taken out of the fight." Cersei watched as the Iron Born savage got out of line and shouted at the referees. Even from her distance she could hear his displeasure at the limitations on the Melee. To her, these were perfectly acceptable as it meant that her Jamie would be in less danger later on.

Eventually several guards were called onto the field to escort Euron Grayjoy off the field. His replacement however surprised as it was Captain Pierce of the Black Cloaks. The referees apologized for the delay and the teams were divided. Cersei smirked at the two Stark Brothers being separated, the wolves were always weaker when separated from their pack. Both sides were given some time to strategize and speak with each other but once it was done they were readied at each side of the field. The ring of a gong being hit signaled the beginning of the Melee's first round.

They all watched as the two teams charged head first at each other, one side did try and hold back a few in reserve while the other tried to flank around but that just resulted in the both colliding as the reserves attempted to stop the flank attack. Given the small numbers and small battlefield it really wasn't a surprise that it ended up as a blob of fighting. The first to drag themselves out or be pulled out were the cocky low borns but also a few inexperienced noblemen also were taken out.

The crowd was more engaged than Cersei was, being that neither the prince nor Jamie were involved it was hard for her to really care about it. But at a glance she could see the side of Eddard Stark, and the oddly familiar Lyseni were coming out on top and soon enough it was only Brandon Stark that remained of the other team. He was circled by at least seven men, it was the man from Lys that took the initiative and challenged the Stark heir to one on one combat. They danced at each other with their blades and to everyone's shock it was the cloaked Lyseni man that disarmed Brandon Stark.

"Hmm." Cersei filed away a mental note to tell father of this man and to possible offer him a place among the Lannister army. Talent was talent no matter where it came from but it was best keep the proper origins in their proper place in the system of betters and lessers.


"I can't believe it! My little brother getting the better of me in a Melee!" Brandon laughed as he headlocked Eddard and Lyanna couldn't help but feel overjoyed at the sight. Sitting in their booth at the arena as the second round of the Melee was being set up she couldn't feel happier. The only way that she would feel better was if their mother was here to see this. Lyanna's mind had wandered back onto her mother when she thought she saw her ghost but it was just a servant woman that had a passing resemblance to Lyarra Stark.

"Aye Ned, but don't think you'll be beating me!" Robert laughed along with Brandon as the boys enjoyed their time together. Robert would be taking part in the forth round which meant that if them to fight both would need make it to the very last round.

"Okay, you can both stop to now." Eddard squeezed his way out and despite his protests Lyanna could see the smile on his face. This was it, she could feel the mood changing and she hoped by the end of the Tourney her family would be able to move past their mother's death.

The second round of the Melee was a bit like the first, in that one of the contestants was too eager to spill blood for real. But unlike with Euron, Ser Gregor Clegane participated in the fight and was able to cut the arm off of one unlucky Vale Man that had wanted to join in on the mock battle. The fight was already in full swing so it wasn't until the end that the deed was discovered. The giant of a man was eliminated from the Melee despite the fact his side won no doubt due to his excellent show of power.

The Third round was at first exciting due to the fact it had a Kingsguard and the Red Viper in it. Ser Jamie Lannister and Oberyn Martell were on opposing sides and to everyone's shock the Dornish man surrendered once he had been surrounded by Ser Jamie and four other men. It was a rather disappointing end for many but cries of support from two women in the Martell both gave everyone a idea of why Oberyn was unwilling to risk harm to himself when the odds were so low.

Then came the forth round with Robert Baratheon and the hedge Sith Rud Errol. Lyanna cheered extra hard for her betrothed, Benjen had told her that Rud was a bully that would pick on anyone he could. The crowd certainly got very excited as it came to a one on one fight as the two Stormlanders were the last ones standing. Lyanna breath was caught in her throat as Rud attempted to pull Robert's warhammer out of his hand with the Force, only for it to be revealed that the weapon was chained to his armor. Rud then panicked as Robert come down on him, crushing the bully back onto his ass with a mighty blow. Rud complained to the referees about cheating but they said that there was no rule against chaining one's weapon.

"We will be taking a break from the action, in one hour we will return with the winners of round one and two facing off." The referees announced and the crowds of people all began to file out of the lower stands to go get food and alleviate themselves. Lyanna relaxed into her cushioned seat, the sheer excitement of it all was nearly too much.

"You certainly have calmed down, its amazing to see." She looked to her side to see Brandon smiling down at her. "I half expected you to scrounge up some armor and join disguised as a man."

"Shouldn't you go find Catelyn Tully? I'm sure that she very much wants to see you." He groaned at the mention of his betrothed. It was strange, here she was betrothed to a man she had come to love and Brandon couldn't stand the very idea of his coming marriage. If one would ask anyone in Winterfell which of the two of them would settle into the idea of marriage they would have all said Brandon.

"Don't remind me." Lyanna laughed at his reaction which softened the mood.

"I did think about it by the way. I even thought up a name, the Laughing Tree Knight." They both chuckled at the silly name and fell into a comfortable silence as they watched attendants clean up the arena. But eventually Lyanna spoke up again, as a thought came to her mind. "Do you ever feel like everything is finally falling into place? Like… it's all starting to make sense?"

"A little. But I think it's a different feeling for me than you. Robert and you actually get along and the life you're going to be having is everything you wanted. For me, it's all coming together to force me be the Warden father always wanted me to be." Lyanna listened to Brandon speak so soberly about his future. She knew that he had been taking his duties more seriously but never suspected that he still felt like this. "Sometimes… I just want to run away to Essos and join a sell sword company. I feel like I should have been the second son and Eddard the first."

"You could run away." Brandon looked over to her and saw she was completely serious. "Do it. Get disowned and leave Winterfell to Eddard. Join a sell sword company and travel all across Essos and end up getting killed by some Dothraki horse lord years from now when your skills fade but your too stubborn to retire."

"That sounds like me." He somberly chuckled as he leaned all the way back in his seat, laying his head back with a deep sigh. Lyanna watched as the plans worked in his mind and for a second she could have seen him getting up and walking out the door, never to be seen again. But instead he sat back up and reached around to hold her, to reassure that he was here. "Maybe. But first… I want to make sure my sister and brothers are okay before I leave."

Eventually everyone returned as the next fight came. Lyanna wasn't surprised when Ned's team won given the other side had lost their biggest fighter. Both figuratively and literally. Though Yohn Royce gave a good try but the mysterious Lyseni man had bested him. It was an interesting battle but everyone knew the end of it before it began. And even worse everyone was looking forward to the one after.

The battle between Robert and Ser Jamie was a sight to behold. They sought out each other immediately and ignored the rest who in term were happy to leave two to their duel. Surrounded by clashing steel, the two champions of Westeros fought bravely but much to Lyanna's disappointment it would be the Kingsguard to come out victorious. The man clad in golden armor cut the chain that kept the warhammer in hand and then disarmed Robert in his shock. The battle soon ended after that as Jamie swept through the other side.

Robert soon joined Lyanna and Brandon, the latter of whom had a smug look on his face btu said nothing. Mostly out of fear of what Lyanna might do if he made fun of her wounded stag. The final match however began quickly after. Some fanfare and horns blared hyping up the crowd and setting the stage. Everyone in the Stark Booth was ready to cheer on their Ned, and then hoped that maybe he could become the Champion of the Tourney by beating his former teammates in the free for all that would take place after the fight.

The battle however did not go as expected. Just like with Robert, Ser Jamie shot straight for Ned and unlike Robert took him out quickly. If it had not been Jamie Lannister it would have been embarrassing for Eddard. People started to think that was the end of it only to witness the unexpected. The hooded Lyseni man that had been the dark horse of the whole Melee disarmed Ser Jamie in a graceful and perfect perry that could only come from years of practice and training. The Kingsguard stood in shock for a moment before stepping back in surprise at something the mystery man had said but it was lost on the crowd. The fight ended and the last team standing was given room to compete for the title of Champion. Lyanna, Robert, and Brandon all hoped that Eddard would win but now they weren't so sure.

Those fears did indeed come true as one by one the fighters were taken out of the competition by either Eddard or the mystery man until only they were left. Lyanna clutched her betrothed's hand tight, worried for her brother's safety. He put up a valiant defense, lasting longer than he did with Ser Jamie and so won back some of the shame there but in the end was no matched for the silver haired man. Ned's sword skidded across the sandy floor of the arena and it was all over. It was only then that the man pulled off his hood and everyone gasped. Lyanna did for different reasons than many.

"That's that creep from earlier." She felt a shudder run down her spine at the memory of the man that had nearly spoiled her personal adventure into the festival. She watched as the referee cautiously approached the man and spoke to him then visibly paled before collecting himself.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Your champion of the melee and tourney! Prince Rhaegar Targaryen!" The arena was quiet for a moment before erupting into applause. Meanwhile Lyanna Stark was internally screaming as she was now worried she had ruined her family's relations to the crown.


"Can't have a bit of fun? It's a festival isn't it?!" Victarion watched from the shadows as his brother was making a fool of himself as he and a bunch of other Iron Born antagonized the Black Cloaks. The Neophyte scowled deeply at the horrid behavior of the worst member of the Grayjoy family. "And then your boss went and screwed things for his crew. If I had been in the fight, I guarantee there would be a different champion."

"Sir, you and you friends have had too much to drink and are disturbing the peace. If you do not calm down we will need to escort you off the fairgrounds." One of the Black Cloaks tried his best to approach this diplomatically but Victarion knew that was in vein. He could already see some of the Iron Born reach for the axes on their hips. What he wanted to do was knock them all on their asses with a sweep of his trident but he and the others were under orders not to fight under any circumstances.

Victarion watched as things came to the very edge and then Euron smirked and threw up his hands. He stepped back and the others looked among themselves but backed down. The Black Cloaks began showing them out of the fair grounds, only for them to not notice when Euron vanished from the group. The Grayjoy Neophyte was already following Euron when the Black Cloaks finally figured out that the main instigator was missing.

"Euron, what are you doing here?" Victarion's voice stopped the pirate who had been stumbling down the logistical path behind several stalls. But the younger brother was under no illusions that Euron was perfectly aware and perfectly deadly should his mood shift. "Balon would never have approved of you coming here and father gave up on you long ago."

"Little Vicky… so good to see you again." Euron turned on his heel and jovially greeted his younger brother, while resting a hand on his blade. "Balon is still furious at you for what you said when you visited Pyke."

"Everything I said was true. You are nothing more than a rabid dog and Balon is a stubborn fool that seeks to bring back ways that should be dead and buried." Victarion growled as memories of shouting and even a few punches echoed in his mind.

"Ah, but what is dead may never die." Euron smirked as he began pacing in front of his little brother. "And he was more upset at the other thing you said. That the Grayjoys are no longer fit to rule the Iron Islands."

"As I said, it was all true what was spoken that day." The two brothers stared each other down, even with all of his training Victarion was unsure about fighting his brother. While he could hurl insults of Euron being mad all day, the fact was they were so true it made fighting him a painful lesson in unpredictability. The only thing that Victarion was sure of was that he could hold his brother back using the Force.

"And you were right, doesn't mean father and Balon are happy about it." Not for a second did he lower his guard. "But I'm here because I wanted to see how my little brother is doing… and so far I'm disappointed."

"Am I supposed to care about what a bunch worthless thieves that think being worthless thieves is somehow noble and just because they say so think?" After that day when Balon accused him of trying to steal Pyke and the Iron Islands from him he had given up on his family. All that mattered now was the Sith and their dominance over the world and galaxy. That was a true cause that he could commit himself to. "Are you sad that I don't steal everything I own, or don't rape every woman that I find attractive?"

"Well not sad." He joked before jumping back from the spot where Victarion's trident pierced the ground. "Ooh… didn't see it comin'."

"You should leave now. There is no reason for you to stay." Euron smirked before he turned his back to Victarion, daring him to attack. But he wouldn't, he wouldn't stoop to Euron's level.


"Lord of Graywater watch, you're too young to be a lord." Jarman laughed as he and several other Neophytes and Acolytes, mostly from either the Dorne/North bloc or the Honor bloc sat together with Howland Reed at one of the open top bars of the festival.

"And the first Sith to become a lord, just right that it would be a Northman to have that honor." Daltis Flint cheered and the others that were from the North cheered as well. Those not rolled their eyes but kept the smiles. They continued to party on until soon enough the day was beginning to drag on and the Acolytes had curfew and other had to return to their hotels. The was setting and the fairground was being taken care of, cleaned up for the next day. Jarman, Daltis, Rechar, Miana, and Howland all sat together, their mood far more sober and serious than it had been with the others.

"I still feel like I should have stayed. Its nice being back in the Neck, back in the green with my kin. But… it doesn't feel the same." Howland admitted as he held firm on the mug of ale that was now all gone. he felt reassured as Jarman put a hand on his shoulder.

"We all wish you had stayed too, but you had a duty to your House. We understand, Lord Nagash understands too." Jarman looked to the other Neophytes who all nodded in agreement. They had gone to Darth Nagash and asked him if what they were planning on was okay and he gave his blessing. They all looked around to check to see who was still around, all that was left were servants of Harrenhal. None of whom would ever rat out the Sith. "Listen, you'll get your chance again."

"What are you talking about?" Howland looked up, he hadn't been feeling too bad but it wasn't until Jarman said those words that he felt like he really needed to hear them.

"Someday, each and every Sith that has left the Order will have to come back." On its own, that statement could be taken several ways. However, it was the most dangerous that Howland knew to be true. His widened at the possibility and looked to the others for confirmation.

"That… I know the King is mad but is Darth Nagash really planning on something like that." Both Daltis and Rechar took drinks from their mugs while Miana pretended to be distracted by something. And when Howland looked to Jarman, the knight in all but name shook his head but the intent was still there. "When?"

"Won't be for many years. But just know, you and all the other Hedge Sith are going to have to take the Crucibles again. The real ones." He knew it. That they had been given different tests. Howland opened his mouth to say something more but unfortunately the shock of what he just heard clouded his senses and was hit by a mix of dirt and stale beer and was knocked off his seat.

"Ha! Take… take that swamp sitter!" The Neophytes all turned and glared at the source of the attack and mocking. Finding Geremy Frey and a small band of his fellow Frey brood behind him. As expected of the only Frey to join the Sith Order, he ran right back to the Twins and became his father's House Sith. A Position that had become the goal to many Hedge Sith and one easily gotten due to the limited number of Sith out there.

"Geremy what in seven hells do you think you are doing?!" Jarman shouted as he stood up while the other males of the group followed suit. Miana quickly moved beside Howland and started to help clean him off.

"T-this d-ooesn't concern y-y-you Jarman." The Fray Sith's words were heavily slurred and it was easy to see that him and his kin was wasted drunk. "You a-and the… the… uh… the other dumb-dumb uh… all of you that stayed! Y-you don't get involved."

"Get out of here Geremy, your drunk and not smart enough to know when you're out of your depth." Daltis mocked as he and the others lined up to defend Howland. The Fray brood looked ready to fight but with a wave of their hands, Jarman and the others tripped them up off their feet and onto the faces. Groans echoed out and none of the Frays attempted to get back up. "Damn, it's going to be good when scum like him have to re-"

"Shut it, we don't know if they're so drunk not to remember what we say." Rechar interrupted Daltis knowing that Darth Nagash had given out orders that information like that was not to be shared even accidently to anyone outside the Order with the sole exception of Howland. "Come on, let's get Howland back to his hotel room and we can get him a whore or two to make up for this."

"Let's just get him back to his room first okay." Jarman ignored the groans from Rechar and Daltis as he walked back to Howland and Miana. He helped the crogman back onto his feet and with a slap to the shoulder and smile told him without words that they all had his back. He was the lost one that belonged with the rest of the first generation of Neophytes. He would always have a place among them.


"And I am free!" I sighed as I finally made it to my bedroom having escaped Ayres. When I planned to distract the king for the tourney I never expected it to be so gurling. Far from the influence of the Iron Throne and made very awake by all the excitement the Mad King was impossible to just Force Daze him so I could go off and find Rhaella. That and his Kingsguard were glaring at me the whole time. But my sheer utter happiness at returning back to my home where I could see my family was shorted by my senses picking up a disturbance in the Force. Not the kind of a planet has been destroyed or a eldritch horror has escaped sort of disturbance, but the kind a man feels when he's about to find himself in the doghouse. I turned my head to see a very unfamiliar sight, Lyarra glaring at me while blocking the door to the bedroom. "You spoke with Joanna."

"What happens to Brandon and Lyanna?" This was not my loving and comfy Lyarra but the terrifying Mother Wolf Stark. Lying was useless, weaseling out of it would only make it worse, so that just left the truth. The key now was how I presented it, which wasn't weaseling out of it.

"Time and fate are very fluid…" That only got a growl of annoyance out of her and I knew I had to sped things up. "I have had a rough idea of future events for a long time. So far things have played out similarly but not exactly how I thought they would. Robert and Lyanna actually falling in love was unexpected but not welcomed change."

"What. Happens." She reiterated and knew I was treading on thin ice. The one thing I knew that could ever set Lyarra against me and break her away from the collar's control was her kids.

"Brandon dies and Lyanna will probably get raped." I cut to the chase and Lyarra just stood there like a statue. "If it helps, Lyanna was going to die too but not anymore."

"That doesn't help." She was visibly teetering on the edge of a full blown rage right now. I thought about forcibly calming her through her collar but… that's not a good idea right now. Instead I stood still as walked over to me and stopped inches from my face, I was genuinely fearful of my life as she looked into my eyes. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing." This was when the shock of the moment wore off and the years of living as a Sith Lord came in and flooded my brain with pure logic and sobering facts. The Light Side provided me with the detached purpose of the future and the Dark Side fueled me with selfish righteousness. "Lyanna will suffer through a nightmare before coming out to a life with her the love of her life who will do everything in his power to make her happy. And as for the man that committed the horrible acts on her… while it will take some time his punishment will be prolonged so long as I live in suffering in servitude to his most hated foe, reduced to nothing but a shadow and wraith in torment."

"And Brandon?" That was the kicker. There was no getting around it, Brandon had to die in order for things to play out smoothly. It's true that Rickard was enough to call the North to war but Brandon simply wasn't what the North needed afterward. Not only that, but reports from my spies in the festival on Brandon, Jaesa's insight, and my meta knowledge all pointed to him ditching his lordship of Winterfell two to three years after the Rebellion. If he has a son with Catelyn then that makes things worse but even if he doesn't that makes the succession and rulership of the North all kinds of messy. People, House Bolton, and others will jump at the chance to seize the opportunity made by the chaos. Brandon becoming Warden of the North was a disaster scenario that could spiral out of control. And what was worse, explaining all this to Lyarra right now wasn't going to work.

"Will die in the madness of King Ayres with his father. And I can't do anything about it."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"You aren't even going to try?"

"If there was a way to prevent it and not result in more heartache and death than I would have already done it." Then I thought came back to me, a scheme I had discussed with Quinn year ago but at the time of its inception was when I had returned with Talzin. That was right before Lyarra had wanted to leave Winterfell for good. I spoke before my mind caught up with how shitty of a tactic this was. "If only there was someone in his life that could have pushed him to leave the realm before now."

"I… that's cruel." She pulled away once I shifted the blame back on to her. Immediately I regrated saying it but the damage was done. "I know what I did was wrong. Leaving behind the children I had with Rickard at the hope of growing a new family with you. I don't regret any of our children but… I should have waited. Waited until the time was right like you said."

"That's not what I meant. Brandon is on a road that he decided for himself, I don't control everyone like puppets. He can still live, fate isn't set in stone." Recoiling at the sight of the woman I loved I was trying to come up with plans that could result in Brandon living. They all either resulted in a fractured North or risks too great to take. I had played fast and loose with risks before and they had nearly gotten me killed or worse. I learned my lesson too well and now nothing but assured success with minimal damage was what I was willing to accept.

"You still sound like your making excuses. I know and accept what I did was wrong and I will always suffer for that. But you have a choice here and I don't know if I can accept the one you are making. I still love you… but I don't think I should see you now." With that she rushed out of the room and I didn't stop her. The door closed behind her and I could feel the clock tick by as moments passed where she grew further and further away. The door and wall crumbled as I blasted it to pieces.

"Quinn! Jaesa! Get up here! We have planning to do!" I shouted loud enough so that the two that I knew were in the tower could hear me. Then I snapped my fingers and out from the nearby window came two Nightsisters that acted as my bodyguards. "Send a message to Talzin, tell her I want her here as soon as she can get here."

"Yes my lord." They nodded and vanished to do as ordered. Fuck! I was going to bend over backward to make damn sure Brandon was going to live and not be a disaster. I wanted to kill something, slowly and with my fists. But I needed to channel that into something productive. I could already feel my future self kicking me for doing this, loose ends like Brandon fucking Stark never end well.

"That blond jackass is right… the things I do for love."


Lyanna paced in the living room of her family's hotel suite. Her brothers were completely out having tired themselves out with the day and the fighting. Robert was similarly in his own bed for a change as he was completely beat to the point where even he was too tired for… certain activities that they liked to engage in.

"Damnit… damnit!" She cursed as she worried over how much damage she might have done by her actions toward the prince. True he was acting like creepy stalker but he was the prince and so that meant he could do things like that. He probably was just at the fair and saw her alone and thought she needed some protection. She didn't but it's not like the Prince would know that she knew how to use a sword or fight with her own hands, most noble ladies didn't.

Her worries continued until there was a knock at the door. That was odd as the guard posted outside was ordered to not let anyone in and if there was someone he would check in with her first. Lyanna thought for a moment before walking over where she hid a dagger and slipped it into her dress. Carefully walking to the door, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for just about anything. Opening it she felt a mix of fear and relief as it was the prince and his Kingsguard bodyguard.

"Lady Stark, may I come in." There was an odd out of place feeling that she should refuse him. But she didn't as how could she, he was the prince. She stepped out of the and let the two men inside and shut the door behind them.

"My brothers are asleep right now but I can wake them if you need to discuss something with them." She tried to deflect from the awkwardness that must be felt by everyone in the room. She had acted so rudely to him earlier today and quite possibly have ruined House Stark's relationship to the crown.

"Let them, the performed admirably in the Melee today. Especially the younger Stark Brother, I did not expect such a challenge from someone so young. I made the right choice in hiding my identity as I do not think I would have been given the same otherwise." He laughed gently, his voice a melodic song that would enrapture many hearts. Lyanna smiled politely but personally preferred Robert's more boisterous laugh, it just felt more warm and personal than the prince.

"Your grace, you really shouldn't have done that. The risk to you was too great." The Kingsguard sounded like he was genuinely concerned for the prince's safety. For Lyanna that was a good sign that those that served the prince cared about him.

"I was never in any danger, not only was it just a mock battle but I trust in the skills I have honed all my life." There was a charismatic certainty about the prince, like he believed in what he was saying so much that you couldn't help but do the same. People like Robert, Darth Nagash, and lately her father had the same way of speaking when talking about certain things. But the prince just had it all the time. He looked back to her and with those bright violet eyes gave her a shudder. They didn't lie, all of his attention was focused on her and she wasn't comfortable with that. "My coming here was for you my lady, I wanted to speak to you regarding your betrothed."

"W-what?" Wait… was this really happening? He didn't want to talk about what happened at the food stall?

"It has come to my attention that there might be the possibility that there is a woman carrying his bastard child." Oh… that. Well she kinda already knew about that. She and Robert had started getting more physical in their relationship and… both quickly figured out that they really-really liked sex. And so during her time in the Vale with him they tried a few extra things, including having other people join them. The Dornish did it all the time so they figured why not try it. It did not turn out well. The bastard was just the most lasting, she and Robert both agreed that they had taken things too fast and to wait until they were older before trying something like that again.

"That is very surprising, but how do you know of this?" She feigned ignorance as she didn't want to get in trouble for having sex before her wedding night, double standard infuriated her but regardless she knew when to keep her mouth shut… now.

"I am the prince of the realm, it is my duty to know these things." Lyanna didn't feel like that was true. This was personal business that had nothing to do with the prince. "I believe that a woman of your standing and beauty should know what sort of man you are betrothed to. Lord Baratheon is still a young man and one that has shown himself on many occasions to follow his baser instincts. I wonder if you are not getting what you truly deserve."

"I assure you your grace, I deserve nothing more than what I have." She tried to stay respectful even if she was fuming on the inside. If this man had not shown his true colors earlier, then took the championship from her brother, and now was needless insulting her betrothed, then she would have taken his concerns better. He would have just been a worried and pious monarch to be but instead she was feeling more and more like he had more in mind. But his smile, a arrogant and patronizing smile, told her that he was not going to give up on whatever he was plotting.

"Well, I believe we disagree on that. But I have much to do this night so I will leave you. Good night my lady." She said nothing as the prince and his bodyguard walked out of the suite. One thing was clear to her, for the rest of the tourney she wasn't going to let herself be alone.


Author's Notes

And that was day one, next chapter will be day two and possibly day three depending on how much i can stuff into one chapter.

Reviews

RonaldM40196867 - yes, Sith is a order and so it's just unlikely in canon for a Sith to be that close to the Light to be able to use Force healing

anthonym3 - Lysa... hehehe nervous chuckling. As for the Droids thing, Naraiz will be using Droid Axillaries, pretty much the droids seen in the Sith Empire but the main focus will be on clones.

Guest - Yes

Reads too much - Virgil is a AI with the sole directive to categorize Naraiz's memories of earth works of art and media and if need be edit or finish to his liking. It does have the ability to sorta learn cultural and intrinsic story telling and artistic cues but at its most basic level its just copying all that to a incredible degree. It's pretty much like taking the concept of being inspired by other works of art to the extreme. As for Cipher, they know of the Republic's plans to conquer Hutt space so the plan to deal with them is to piggy back on the Republic's plans and take it further than even they are willing to go.