Chapter 6

Jasper Lane

The halls of Dragonstone were black and cold as Jasper walked down them to the painted table. Even though he had lived here for three months now he could never feel comfortable in this castle, and the dozens of Dragon statues didn't help either. He felt like an outsider and he imagined at any second the dragons would come to life and tear anyone who wasn't a Targaryen apart, but they didn't come to life when the Targaryens needed them most, nor when the ones responsible for slaying the Targaryens decided to move in so he doubt they would come to life because some lad from the riverlands moved in.

It wasn't long until he reached his destination, he saw Lord Stannis with his usual grim look. His eyes moved to Jasper when he entered. "Sit." his voice rang off the walls as Jasper obeyed and took a seat next to the Lord of Dragons Stone, Like his brothers, Robert and Renly, Stannis is a large man, tall, broad shouldered and sinewy. Stannis' dark blue eyes were hooded with a heavy brow. His fringe of black hair circled his head like the shadow of a crown. His face has a tightness to it like cured leather, and his hollow cheeks, and thin, pale lips were framed with a dark close cropped beard.

"Are you ready for today's test?"

Jasper adjusted in his seat uncomfortably. "Yes my lord."

Stannis lowered his eyes to Jasper. "If war were to break out between the major houses of Westeros which houses would be in the best position?"

It took Jasper a while to come up with an answer, not because he didn't have one yet but he was worried it was the wrong one. "The Reach would be, because it has more men than all the other houses. 80k compared to the others who average around 45k."

Stannis shook his head. "You're not completely wrong. The Reach has by far the largest army in Westerose. But their lands are flat with no natural defencive positions, also how many houses does the reach border?"

Jasper though for a moment. "Three."

Stannis nodded "Yes, and the many farms of the reach look more like supplies the other houses could use to feed their armies, why use your recourse when you can use others. Now try again, which houses would be in the best situation?"

Jasper thought a little harder. "The North, Vale, and Dorne." Stannis raised an eyebrow.

"What about the Iron Islands? They border no great houses since there a group of islands."

Jasper stood his ground on his answer this time. "True but they only have 25k. Defensively they would be very hard to defeat but offensively they would only be able to raid and pillage, being more like distractions."

Stannis gaze grew dark. "It would be foolish to underestimate the Ironborn. Their navy is unrivaled in strength and because of that it's very possible if they played defensively they could out last the other houses, and take all of Westeros."

Jasper nodded his head in realization. "You're right my Lord."

Stannis kept his look on Jasper. "Name which region would be in the worst scenario."

Jasper new the answer there was no doubt in his mind. "The riverlands, not only do they boarder four major houses they also have a wealthy market and fertile lands making it the most likely to fall first.

Stannis simply nods at the answer. "These next few weeks we will focus more on intelligence then your swordsmanship. It's easier to be the smartest man in Westeros than the best fighter."

Those words continued to ring in Jasper's ears as his eyes slowly opened. He didn't recognize the room, he satt up slowly but his side begins to ache in pain, he tries to grab it only to realize his arm is in a tight sling. He lay back down as his eyes explore the room. It was very basic, a table next to the bed he was in held a bouquet of flowers. Next to the blossoms he saw vials, one was milk of the poppy but he didn't recognize the others. His head began to throb and all at once he remembered what happened. He was Jousting against the mountain when he was struck. His shield came at him like a arrow, after that it was blurry. Jasper sat alone in silence for an hour before his door opened. An older man with a grey beard hobbled in as if he was hundreds of years old, and looked so fragile that the chain links he was wearing might break him.

"Ah Lord Jasper, you're awake. How long have you been conscious for?" Jasper crunched his eyebrows, his throbbing head was making it hard to remember. "About an hour."

The maester looked pleased. "That's good to hear. Take this." The old man held out some willow bark. "Chew on this. It all dull the pain you're in."

Jasper took the medicine with no question and began to chew on it. "If you can excuse me young Lord, I think your father would like to hear that you're awake."

"Before you go. How long have I been out?"

The Maester didn't even turn his head "About four hours my lord." The doors closed and once again Jasper was alone, except for the sound of his chewing the room was quite. Jasper wondered how long it would be until his father made it, knowing the size of the Red Keep and the Maester speed he estimated by the end of winter. To his surprise the door was slowly pushed open but it wasn't his father or the Maester, it was the king, Robert Baratheon.

He was tall, about six and a half feet with large arms and an even larger gut, his hair was long, black, and a mess as some of it covered his blue eyes. His arm was wrapped around a beautiful women with long brown hair, her breasts were completely exposed though she did not look ashamed at all. Jasper quickly noticed that women was not Queen Cersei, of course, even if he had never seen the queen he could have guessed that this woman was not the king's wife.

"I came as soon as I heard you were better." Robert slurred his words and on closer inspection Jasper saw his nose was as red as a rose and his breath, even from several feet away smelled of wine.

"I-I'm honored my liege."

Robert gave his whore a smack on her ass, she giggled and as she walked across the room and layed down next to Jasper. Her fingers walked up Jaspers bandaged chest. "Poor young Lord. I'll make you feel better." Jasper's face turned to a bright shade of red as Robert's voice boomed with laughter.

"Here is your reward."

Jasper looked at his king wide eyed. "R-r-reward? For what?"

Robert pointed straight at him. "For standing up to The Mountain. You are only half his size and jousted the large bastard with a broken arm. If that doesn't deserve a reward I don't know what does."

Jasper felt a little bit of pride, the king delivering you a whore must be some kind of high honor. Below knighting but above sharing a drink.

"My thanks my liege but I'm afraid I'm not exactly in the best condition to…… spend time with the lady." Jasper noticed Roberts cheerful smile slowly fade away. "B-b-but I would hate to hear this poor lady wasn't satisfied today so I would be honored if you would take her yourself."

The comment seemed to work as Robert's face brightened up again. "Maybe when you feel better." The king stood up and lifted the whore off the bed. Jasper saw some disappointment in her eyes when the king lifted her. It was good to know he was preffered to a fat drunk. He couldn't wait to brag to his friends when he got home. The king stumbled out of the room leaving Jasper alone.

Luckily it wasn't long, soon Dale and Eddard Stark walk through the door. Dale smiled down at his son, happy to seem him breathing and alert, sitting down in the chair closest to him he grinned. "What did I tell you Eddard, no Lane would be killed by simply falling off a horse."

Eddard glanced over at Dale. "If I remember correctly you spent hours in the Great Sept praying for your sons recovery, and if you were not there you were in your chambers pacing back and forth."

Dale scoffed at the remark but Jasper didn't need Eddard's comment to know his father worried. When he was younger and caught a cold, his father would always get angry at him. Snapping at him for small mistakes that he usually didn't care that much about, he would keep this grumpy attituded an entire month even after Jasper got better.

"Who won the joust?" Jasper inquired into the awkward pause.

Eddard was the first to answer. "Sandor Clegane. Loras won the joust against Gregor Clegane, when he was unhorsed he tried to slay Loras in his rage, Sandor stepped in to save his life so Loras resigned naming Sandor the winner."

The news surprised Jasper, all he had heard was that Loras was a pretty boy playing at war, maybe just jealous loser in the wrong side of the lance.

"I'm glad to hear that someone unhorsed Gregor, what of the melee?"

Dale was the one to speak first. "It has not started yet. It should be starting in an hour."

Jasper smiled, happy that he had not miss it. "Well then we better get going."

Dale chuckled "I'm afraid that you won't be seeing the melee. Maester Pycelle was very clear that you need your bed rest."

Jasper was a bit annoyed. "Trust me dad, I am well enough to sit in a chair and yell at people to beat each other with blunt swords."

Dale scowled at Jasper. "This not up for debate, you will stay here and rest."

Jasper locked eyes with his dad before remembering that Eddard Stark was present, arguing with his father in front of the second most powerful man didn't seem like a good idea. "As you wish father, I will rest."

Dale nodded in approval and looked towards Eddard. "We best hurry my lord if we don't want to miss the melee."

Eddard nodded in agreement and stood up. "May the old gods and the new watch over you."

Jasper thanked Eddard as both lords left the room. Jasper was once again alone, and boredom slowly took him. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking up of some of his favorite stories and inserted himself into them. His favorite was how instead of just a baby during Robert's rebellion he was a man grown, charging into battle with his father next to him as he crossed blades with the great Baristian.

He chuckled at the thought of him ever being that good. His brother could probably achieve it but Jasper never had the proper motivation to work on his swordsmanship, so long as he did not grow fat he was happy. He couldn't take it anymore, he could only daydream about famous stories for so long. As Jasper tried to stand up out of bed he soon realized that his father was right. There was no way he would be able to make it down to the melee without have someone carry him, and he didn't need anyone to see that, even had anyone been available to offer the service He pushed the door open and slowly made his way down the hall using the thick stone wall for balance. His muscles throbbed with every step, he had decided to turn back to his room when he heard the sound of wood clanking together, his curiosity was piqued as he followed the noise.

He found Arya Stark with a wooden sword training with a sleek bald man. They both noticed him, Arya was the first to speak. "Jasper, I didn't expect you to be walking around yet."

Jasper moved towards the two. "And you would be right to think that. I can't walk, only limp."

The bald man was next to speak. "Ah, this is the one who hid you from the guards?" Arya looked to the bald man and nodded.

Jasper limped over to the man. "I am Lord Jasper Lane, who might you be?"

The bald man bows his head slightly. "I am Syrio Forel, the first sword of Braavos and Arya's Dancing Master." Jasper glances at the wooden swords. "Wouldn't ribbons be better for dancing than swords?"

Arya scoffed at the comment. "He is teaching me how to fight with a sword." And raises the end of her wooden sword at him. Jabbing him playfully in the side and grins.

"No boy." Syrio taps Arya's shoulder so she'll face him instead.

"I am teaching you how to dance the Braavosi way." He then slowly and gracefully swings his own wooden sword from right to left while Arya imitates him.

Jasper kept his eyes on Syrio. "Interesting, what's the difference between Braavosi fig- Ahem, dancing and Westerose dancing."

Syrio smiled at the question. "Westerose dancing involves heavy armor and large weapons crashing against each other until one breaks, a dance anyone can do. Braavosi is fast and quick, dodging while striking the weak points. Many have spent their entire lives learning, but few master the dance."

Jasper opened his mouth to argue, Jami and Barristan would definitely be skilled in dance fighting but he chose to hold his tongue. He didn't know anything about Braavosi dancing and to be honest Syrio was right. Nine out of ten soldiers in Westerose fit his description. He turns to Arya. "It sounds like the perfect fighting style for a young Lady like yourself." Arya scowled at him and Syrio keeps his smile, Jasper couldn't tell if his little jape flew over his head or if he found it amusing. "Well, don't let me stop you. Please continue, I should get back to my room." He bowed his head to Syrio and Arya and made his way back to his quarters.

He neared his quarters step by step, he turned the corner to the hall with his room. At the end of the hall he could see a large man, clad in a dark Iron armor, but that wasn't what caught his eye. Half the man's face was badly scared, it looked like this man had fought a dragon, only to barely escape with his life. It seemed like he tried to cover it up with with his hair but it proved difficult as the scar had climbed up to his head, making it so that hair could no longer grow there. Next to him was a young man, with golden hair and green eyes, his lips were shaped into a sneer, like that was how he naturally looked. He was wearing bright red clothing, his walk was proud and powerful, like if he wanted to he could make the world bend to him. It didn't take long for Jasper to realize who the two were. No doubt the large man was Sandor Clegane, The Mountains younger brother, and the young man with golden hair was prince Joffrey. He stepped out of the way and bowed his head as much as he could. "My liege." He watched the feet walk by, but their feet stopped in front of Jasper, something he didn't expect.

"Aren't you the one who jousted against the mountain." Jasper sighed knowing that this was not going to be an enjoyable conversation. He stood straight and looked at the young prince in the eyes. He had to gaze up a bit as the prince was a couple inches taller than him. A quick glance showed him that Sandor towered over both of them, easily a foot taller.

"Yes my liege, I was the first one to joust The Mountain in the tourney. A moment my ribs won't let me forget."

Jasper didn't think it was possible but Joffrey's sneer intensified as he spoke. "Well what did you expect to happen? To strike down Gregor and become the champion?"

Jasper slowly shook his head. "Oh no, besting a giant famous for killing a woman and her children was far to lofty of a goal for me." Sandor kept his cold gaze on Jasper. Jasper didn't know much about the relationship between the Clegane brothers but he assumed that it wasn't amazing considering the rumors he had heard about the scar. "Congratulation on winning the joust sir-."

Sandor quickly interrupted him. "I'm no sir, nor a knight."

Jasper was surprised, a man of this stature could easily become a knight, why turn it down? "All the same, I wish to congratulate you on winning."

Joffrey's sneer leaves his face as he begins to feel that he is being ignored. "How did it feel? To be knocked from your horse and slammed into the ground like a weak little child?" Jasper turned his look back to Joffrey.

"It was not painful my liege, my shield had knocked me out so I didn't suffer through the pain of a freshly broken bone." The answer didn't seem to please him at all which ironically pleased Jasper a lot. "Now if you do not mine my liege I am very tired from my injuries, may I scoot off back to bed or is there anyway in which I may be of service?" Joffrey's face turned as red as a ripe strawberry; he turned and stomped off without saying a word. "Well, I'll take that as permission."