Willem Samelson

"You've sent my daughter from your service," Eddard teased.

I laughed aloud, "Yes, my apologies, Lord Stark. A lovely girl, but questioned my authority a few too many times."

Now it was Eddard who laughed, "Yes, she does question. You felt it was inappropriate?"

"No, she was in the right. I found it irritating; she questioned my fighting style."

"You face the Mountain first."

I nodded my assent.

Eddard's tone dropped as he warned, "If you let him hit you…"

"I know. I won't give him the chance."

He raised an eyebrow, so I shrugged in explanation, "I thought on it last night. It would be too obvious. If I am to be attacked unfairly, it will be in the melee."

"So you plan to compete?"

"I have to."

Eddard shook his head slowly, the ghost of a distant memory behind his eyes.

"I know you think I should not…" I began.

"Your father was a great friend. I do not want anything to happen to you…but, this is what I would expect from your father. He had a way of knowing things."

I smiled wistfully, "That he passed to my sister."

Eddard stared at me in surprise. Rather than go into detail, I simply added, "It should help Robb. Whatever is to happen here."

I pressed onward, wanting to raise the voices of the commons before I lined up to face the Mountain. He was literally a giant. I felt he might eat me for supper, but there was more of him to hit than me. I closed the mask of my helmet and charged. My tunnel vision closed in, and as Clegane shifted just slightly with his shield, I found an opening, crushing my lance into him with such force that he was off his horse in an instant.

I yelled out in victory, throwing a hand in the air. The commons roared their approval, and I looked back to see even Sansa standing on her feet. Quickly she sat down, red with embarrassment, while I passed in front of the crowd once more for their approval.

But the cheers soon turned to horrible screams. The wail of a horse met my ears, and I turned to see the Mountain behead his steed. In his madness, he came towards me. I dismounted and hit my horse to make him move before swiftly raising my sword to meet the giant's.

My shoulder screamed in pain, but the heat rising in my blood began to push away those thoughts. Clegane kept pounding as I met each blow, twisting and turning to stay alive. This was not a command from the Lannisters; this was a truly insane man.

I felt the pain shooting down my arm, knowing I couldn't keep this up much longer. Clegane swiped again. This time, I leaned back and pushed his sword towards the ground with mine. Leaning forward again, I drew my armored elbow into the man's face and the sword fell from his hands.

"Stop this madness!" King Robert's voice rang out.

I was stunned for a moment, looking at the faces of those in the high seats. The king was furious, Joffrey eagerly watched, Eddard appeared worried, and Sansa terrified. I dropped to a knee, praying Clegane had heard. Gods help me, it would be my luck to be killed by the Mountain after disarming him. The shaking ground next to me allowed me to breath easier, though. The man knelt.

"Get him out of my sight," the King commanded, referring to the Mountain, now bleeding profusely from the face. He nodded for me to stand. There was still one more tilt.

I bowed once again to the king and exchanged a serious glance with Eddard. I couldn't help myself as I cast a defiant look on the Kingslayer before painting on another smile.

I raised my hand to the commons, taking in their adulation, and strode towards my horse. My arm tingled, feeling as if spiders were crawling on my flesh. I'd had just about enough, but I couldn't stop until the day was through.

I pulled myself onto my horse, taking my lance and shield. Just one more. The words resounded in my mind as I kicked my horse towards the Hound. Not quite as giant as his brother, he was still a dangerous opponent. We both hit the other's shield, and I struggled to stay on my horse as he danced underneath me. After everything I'd seen today, after beating a man beast with a lance and a sword, would I truly lose this?

"Milord?" My squire must have noticed the twinkle return to my eyes as I thought about it. After all of that…there was no chance I would lose today.

I raised my visor and said, "Go back to the castle to retrieve my other helmet for the melee."

"Milord?"

"This is about to be finished."

Snapping the visor shut, I charged towards the Hound. Unlike his brother, there was no sign of an opening, not until the last moment. I kept my head low, eyes fixed on him as we closed, and guided the lance just perfectly underneath his shield. I cried out as his lance hit my damn shoulder, but stayed on my horse. The Hound was not so lucky.

Yet again, the approval of the commons met my ears. I would not be stopped today, not while I felt like this. The intoxication from the victory made all my pains disappear into memories and carried me into the melee with confidence.

I took a few of my men into the insanity with me. In the mud, alliances were broken as quickly as they formed. I kept my men close, accepting a few additional knights from lands nearby mine. We were fighting for the better part of an hour, the crowd still thick.

I kept finding myself somewhat distracted by the man with a flaming sword, but tried to focus on my own opponents. My men were equally engaged, fighting in our circle. But as I blocked a sword, I felt an excruciating stab into a break in my armor at the base of my arm.

The steel sent a blinding pain through the entire side of my body. I turned to face the man, finding three stood behind me, each within range of landing the blow. I quickly inventoried their armor, their faces, but my men pulled me away as the blood seeped through the chinks in my armor.

"Know those men!" I yelled to one of mine as I was pulled out.

"We need to get you to a maester!" my squire exclaimed.

"We shall find Maester Pycelle," one of the king's guard state.

"Under no circumstances!" I exclaimed. Likely, I'd go in grave and come out in the grave.

All of those men were Lannister-friendly, and the Maester belonged to the queen. Already, I felt my conscious thoughts beginning to drain away along with the blood seeping from my arm. The shock of being stabbed was wearing, so now the absolute pain of having a piece of steel lodged in my back and side began to blind me.

"I shall take you to Maester Tamarin," my squire added.

Now, it was obvious I was fading, "Tamarin? In Plenair?"

"No, he arrived today. I saw him while getting your helmet, milord. Your sister sent for him just after you left. She thought with the tourney, you might have need of him."

I shook my head, grinning slightly through my haggard breathing, "Of course she did. I'll trust you to get me there, Sam, for I will not be conscious much longer."

When I awoke, it was to a surprise. The maester of my house stood over me along with little Arya, peering quizzically.

"I can be certain this is not heaven," I joked.

"He is awake?" It was Sansa's voice from the doorway. I looked beyond Arya and the master, silenced for a moment. She looked absolutely beautiful in her green gown.

"Perhaps I can't be certain," I added.

Arya cast a glance upwards, shaking her head and muttering something while Sansa merely blushed and took a step closer.

"What is the damage?" I asked, lifting my arm and instantly regretted it as pain shot through my upper back and side.

"I would not do that for a bit were I you," Maester Tamarin replied.

I smirked. This man had seen me with a broken leg, arm, nose, and now stabbed. "Your humor as always is much appreciated, Maester Tamarin."

"As is yours, my lord."

I smiled truly at the old man and silently thanked Ana for continuing to not fully trust me. Perhaps one day I would learn not to confuse confidence with arrogance.

Tamarin added, "There should be little permanent damage. Perhaps your arm will always creak. You likely will not have a full motion, but close to it. I would not suggest more melees or jousts."

"Well, I make no promises."

Arya giggled as Tamarin shook his head with a begrudging smile. Sansa, however, did not look pleased.

"We should let you rest," the maester suggested, beginning to usher Arya away.

Sansa turned heel quickly until I called to her name. She turned back, but when she stepped further into the room, she would not meet my gaze. Her lips sat in a straight line as she stared at the ground.

"You are angry with me," I stated with a grin.

"You should listen to the maester. Do you realize how much you bled?"

"No, I was unconscious you see," I returned, hoping to see her smile.

"This is not amusing!" Sansa exclaimed. Her voice was still relatively quiet, but it was angriest tone I'd ever heard her.

"I did not mean to upset you," I said softly, unguarded for a rare moment.

She looked me straight in the eye with authority, "Then, you shall listen to the maester and not be injured again."

"Yes, of course, my lady."

"Nor can you fight a man twice your size."

"Well, that cannot always be helped. Moreover, the Mountain is one and a half of me, not two of me."

Sansa stared in disbelief, "Still with your jests? When will you stop? Do you realize how worried I was?"

Now, it was me who stared in surprise until she corrected herself, "How concerned we all were?"

It felts as though something punched me in the stomach, seeing the concern on her face. I took her hand, "I am truly sorry. I did not mean to worry you."

I looked at her, rubbing her hand with my thumb in a pathetic attempt to sooth her. I enjoyed seeing the flush in Sansa's face, but I did not want to upset her. Surprisingly, that was extremely upsetting for me. Sansa finally stared back at me with her clear blue eyes, letting me keep a hold of her hand while I repeated my apologies.

"You are awake then?" It was Lord Eddard who now stood in the doorway.

"Yes, I was well attended," I replied with a soft smile at Sansa.

Remembering herself, she took back her hand. Eddard walked into the room to speak with me alone. I couldn't help but watch Sansa as she walked away; she cast a brief glance over her shoulder before escaping through the hall.

"You could have been killed," Eddard commented, pulling me back.

"Thank the gods the man had questionable aim. He should have jabbed sideways or down into the opening, not upwards. It was a Lannister boy. I remember their faces. We will find them out."

"Will, they are trying to bring the boy to justice, but none of the three your men remember claim responsibility. These things happen in melees; men get overly enthusiastic."

"So essentially, I've come here for nothing."

"Well, Robert thinks very highly of you. You disarmed the Mountain, you won the jousting tournament. You will go home with a great deal of money."

Now, Eddard was teasing me. I had not experienced this before, but I could tell from these moments why my father liked him so much.

"You won't go home empty handed," he added.

"I don't intend to…"

Eddard raised an eyebrow, aware that something hung in the air unsaid. He shifted uncomfortably as the excitement began to bubble inside of me. I had a great plan.

"This is a dangerous place…" I began. "I'm sure you wish to take your girls back to Winterfell. But, you cannot."

"What are you getting at, Will?"

"Say the word, and I will take Sansa with me. It can look like I just ran away with her." The words tumbled out of me without any forethought.

"You want to abscond with my daughter?" Eddard asked with a laugh of disbelief.

I shrugged, "Why not? It sounds like something I would do. I am nothing if not impulsive."

"And you plan to what? Deposit her in Winterfell?" he demanded.

"No, that would cast suspicion on you. I would marry her."

"You want to marry Sansa?"

I shrugged, "I've never planned, Lord Stark. I just know what I want when it moves me."

"You are over-stepping in every way. And, she's promised to the prince," Eddard returned, his expression hardened. I felt at a distinct disadvantage lying in bed as he appeared to be strongly considering murdering me.

Quickly, I spoke up, "Have you spoken to Joffrey? He enjoyed that boy's death the first day and was eager to see Clegane or I kill the other. You cannot allow her to be with him!"

Eddard said nothing for a long moment. I couldn't blame him, but the thought of leaving Sansa in King's Landing was making me feel physically ill.

"I can't make this move," he said finally.

"I'm not asking you to. I will for you. Just consider it, Eddard. Sansa was made for courtly life. Unfortunately, this court was not made for her."