He was utterly bored by this hunt. Watching the fat king drink and yell, hearing the sycophants around him cheer even when he misses his target by an arms length, even hearing all the others muttering curses about the fool who leads this small adventure. All of it bored him... utterly.

He sighed, as he remembered his last visit to Essos, together with Prince Oberyn. The Free Cities and all that awaits further east... that was where the true adventure was waiting. At least it was to him. Traveling the Free Cities was exciting and educational at the same time. Hunting with the king... was mind numbingly boring. Was this the life that would await him in the future? Once he would inherit the lordship that his father would claim from his grandfather?

He already knew the answer. He was the first born son and heir of a great lordship. The Westerlands... his grandfather already demanded from him to come to Casterly Rock and to learn the duties of a lord... but he longed for different things. Oh how he wished to be the second born, so he could follow his own path, like Prince Oberyn has done. But he was the firstborn and Damon was the free one, who could choose his own fate. He had to laugh, as he realized what he was thinking. For a moment he felt envious of his four year old brother...

"What's so funny?" Quentyn Martell, the eldest son of Prince Doran, asked. His face showed the same boredom that Arthur felt, though there was a seriousness in all his actions that Arthur could rarely relate to. He had long given up trying to make Quentyn laugh.

"My mind wanders in dull moments, nothing more." Arthur replies with a smirk. "But I start to believe that we have been duped. They told us about the great fun of a royal hunting party... it seems that only few really enjoy it."

"Would you have rather stayed with the women, listen to them prattle about nonsense and so on?" Quentyn asked in return.

"There are other things you can do with them. If you don't like to listen to their gossip. You can try to charm them, maybe you find one who will help you with your stiff attitude." Arthur smirked, as he saw the reaction on Quentyn's face.

"Of course you would say something like this. My uncle must have taught you everything he knows. Even his less savory hobbies..." Quentyn scoffed at him.

Arthur's smirk widened, "I was not the one who shared his first kiss with twin sisters."

"Aye, the Fowler twins. Jeyne and Jennelyn have flowered into real beauties. You are a lucky man, Quentyn." Cletus Yronwood added, before he laughed.

"Let him be, Cletus, he is brooding again." Arthur laughed.

"As usual. But what about you, young Lannister. Who was your first? Don't tell me it was Arianne, that would have been utterly boring and way too easy."

"Are you implying that my sister is a whore?" Quentyn asked Cletus angrily.

"Nay, my friend. Merely stating that all he would have needed to do, was ask Arianne, and she would have taught him how to kiss a girl. You know that she likes him and his family." Cletus looked alarmed, when he saw Quentyn's angry look and raised his hands in surrender, to placate his friend.

"It wasn't her. Never her." Arthur said.

"Who then? Our dear princess perhaps?" Now it was Arthur's turn to glare at Cletus. Rhaenys was like a sister to him and though it was in the Targaryens' nature for brothers to bed their sisters, to him the concept sounded utterly wrong. "Not her then."

"It was a girl in Lys, if you have to know. Her name was Talea, a cousin of the merchant prince Tregar Ormollen. A beautiful girl with pale blond hair and eyes as blue as the sea around Lys." Arthur conceded. He had met her during a visit with Prince Oberyn, who arranged for a trade with the merchant prince. "The girl had intrigued me, but she was already promised to another. She despised the man her uncle had chosen for her and did not wish to give all of herself to him."

"Now things are getting interesting." Cletus said. "Continue, continue."

But Arthur was hesitant, he did not wish to share this experience with anyone else. Oberyn knew, but did not talk about his. But his family did not know anything about this. Only Oberyn, Talea and that strange blond concubine of the merchant prince, who had found them. It was their secret.

"Drop it, Cletus. Not all of us feel the need to tell everyone about their escapades." Quentyn demanded.

"Ah you are no fun. Just because you don't want to talk about it... Or are you still dreaming of fair Joanna and shy from telling her brother?"

"Better not, if he knows what's good for him," Arthur muttered. He knew all too well, that there are many boys and even grown men who desire his sister. Mostly because of her lineage, but with every passing year she grows more beautiful. Every time they had visited their uncle at Starfall, he had heard him talk about how long it would take for her to become as beautiful as her aunt Ashara. Soon her beauty would attract even more unwanted attention from the wrong sort of noblemen. Not that Arthur would allow any of them to get close to her.

"Look Quentyn, all you have to do is get past her brother, father, grandfather and all the knights in the Westerlands." Cletus exclaimed, highly amused by this. His eyes were shining with mirth. Quentyn gave Cletus merely a blank look, before he spurred his horse on, to get away from his troublesome company. "Don't be shy, Quentyn, better you than that mangy wolf. Have you seen how he watches her, every time she is in the same place as him? That guy is sick..."

Arthur's mood darkened considerably by this. That wolf, Robb Stark. The son of Eddard Stark, one of their most dangerous enemies. What a fool he must be, to entertain such a ludicrous idea like having a chance with the daughter of Jaime Lannister, the chosen sister of a Targaryen princess. He considered Robb a downright fool. But foolish men are often times the most dangerous.

A bolt suddenly hit the ground, right in front of Cletus' horse. The steed reared in fright, throwing Cletus off in the process. He groaned in pain, as he hit the stony ground, while Arthur and Quentyn where quickly by his side, looking warily for their attacker. Not that it would have been hard to find the culprit.

Not far from them, he sat on a chestnut colored mare, the crossbow still in hand, a cocky smirk on his face. Joffrey, the son of Robert Baratheon. Arthur's cousin. As usual in the company of his loyal followers. The Stark sons. Robb, Ned Stark's firstborn son and Jon, the bastard of Wintefell. And with them was the Greyjoy boy, Theon, the only male Greyjoy who is not wanted by the crown for treason after their rebellion.

"Joffrey!" Arthur growled. "Are you mad? You could have hurt him."

"Mad? Not at all, cousin. But I dislike the way he talks about his betters. A lesser son of a lesser lord, badmouthing the heir to the North, such disrespect merits punishment." Joffrey replied lazily, as he looked challengingly at Arthur.

Both cousins did not get along. Not since their first fight during the melee. The grandsons of Tywin Lannister never got the chance to end their fight properly and the dispute that had started there, never had a chance to find an end. And it would not end, unless the boys would fight until there is a victor. Their pride would not allow them any less than that. But everyone around them seemed intent on keeping them from fighting, much to their frustration.

"My cousin you may be, but I will not sit idly by and watch you shooting at my companions."

"Then fight me, Arthur. Let's end this. Let us see who is the superior one. You for your dragons and me for my stags. Who needs huge armies to end a conflict that only exists between two men?" Joffrey challenged.

"Careful, you might not like the outcome of our fight." Arthur shot back, irritated by the haughty smirk on Joffrey's face.

"Oh I know how this will end."

"Joffrey, our fathers have told us to abstain from fighting them." Robb said, as Joffrey dismounted and drew his sword. "I want to fight them as much as you do, but not here."

"No. This is the right place, the right time." Joffrey insisted. It was easy to see that the boy was as much a hothead as his father. Ever true to the Words of their House.

"But..."

"I am your prince, your future king and I say that now is the time and here is the place! So get down from your horse. There is three of them and three of us. Your bastard brother won't fight, just like in the melee. Now we end this dispute, so I can prove that I am the better. No more disappointed stares from my father, no more hushed whispering behind my back about my supposed defeat at my cousin's hands. It ends here."

"Wounded pride. You whine like an old woman." Cletus said bemusedly. He was already back on his feet and had his sword in his hand. He was just as eager to fight.

"What did you say?" Joffrey asked slowly, his voice an angry growl.

"It seems that your hearing is just as bad as that of an old woman." Cletus continue with his mocking.

Arthur had enough of the words and finally drew his own sword. He had left Brightroar behind this time, so he only had a longsword, but it would be enough. Enough to beat Joffrey and end this irritation. "Are you done with the talking? I thought you came here to fight, dearest cousin."

"I will show you. When I am done with you, you will show me the respect I deserve." Joffrey shouted angrily.

"That would be none." Cletus said in jest. Arthur was of the same opinion. His cousin was a hotheaded fool.

"I will be your KING!"

"No. You will never be king. And your father is not my king. A man who only justifies his reign with the murder of women and children has no right to claim the throne. Only one family deserves the throne and you are no dragon." Arthur said. Joffrey's face turned red in anger. It was far too easy to goade him.

"You dare." Joffrey was beyond mad and even his companions watched him warily now. Not that it would have deterred him. "As if your little rebellion would ever succeed. Those desert rats cannot win against the combined might of the other kingdoms. Your dragons will all see the same end." He spat. "But maybe I will show your sisters mercy, our loyal lords deserve a reward."

"Joffrey!" Robb interjected, looking appalled. "This isn't you, this is your anger speaking. Calm down."

"So are we gonna fight now? If not I would rather return to the tents and find me some wench to pass the time." Theon finally said, as he looked at the deadlocked situation.

Arthur grit his teeth, as he felt anger well up. So far all had been merely a game. Mocking each other for the fun of it. Riling each other up, without any deeper consequences. But that last comment... even though it was clear that Joffrey's judgment was clouded by his fury, that one comment had gone too far.

He ran towards Joffrey, his sword raised, Cletus and Quentyn hot on his heels. Only moments later the sound of steel meeting steel could be heard, as both boys had started fighting in honest. No one else would interfere. They had ditched the adults nearly an hour ago, to escape the boredom. And the only one who wasn't fighting was Jon Snow, but that could change any moment.

"Come on, wolf boy. Let's see what you got." Cletus challenged, as he fought against Robb. Quentyn said nothing, as he engaged the Greyjoy boy, though with less fervor than his companions. He only looked annoyed by all of this.

But none of them would interfere with Arthur's and Joffrey's duel. Their conflict, born from wounded pride and youthful hubris, had finally escalated.

"Grandfather won't come to safe you this time." Joffrey spat, as nasty look on his face, his eyes still clouded by anger. "No one here to help his precious heir."

"And you? Not running back to mother for protection? What do you know about a real fight. You have barely left the safe confines of the cities." This was what annoyed Arthur the most. Joffrey was so eager to fight, yet he had most likely never been forced to fight for his life, to take a life.

Arthur would never forget his first kill... he had been too young when he did it. It had happened on his last visit to the east, before he met his uncle Gerion... Prince Oberyn had praised him for staying calm in a dangerous fight. His father had talked to him for hours, after he had heard about it. His mother didn't even know yet. But his sisters did. They acted as if nothing had happened and he was thankful for that, they had no idea how much that meant to him. It had made him a different person, that was for sure. But Joffrey... he didn't understand a thing.

"Oh and you are the great warrior? Hiding in your desert, surrounded by your sisters and other women. How courageous."

Joffrey blocked another strike, but his hands on the hilt of his sword. His eyes were still locked with those of his cousin. But he didn't see Arthur's free hand. The one he had clenched to a fist. The free hand that hit him in the face only moments later, sending him to the ground.

"You don't know anything, cousin." Arthur spat angrily. "You are a spoiled arse who will never understand that we are not playing some silly game." He had Joffrey on the ground, his sword at the prince's throat. Their fight was over. Finally.

But it was that same unfortunate moment, when the king and the bulk of his entourage happened upon them. All watched in stunned silence, as the Kingslayer's son threatened the life of the king's son and heir. A situation that would cause trouble without a doubt. The silence finally ended when the obviously drunk king started yelling.

"What is this! Treason! Lulling us with the promise of peace, then this! Arrest those cursed rebels, throw them into the darkest pit you can find!" Robert yelled in anger. His own men started advancing towards Arthur and his companions, but before they could reach the boys, they were cut off Jaime and Garlan Tyrell, who were followed by their own group of knights. "Tyrell! I should have known that your traitorous family would side with the Targaryens. Just like in the past, sucking up to that despicable family!" Robert said, as he saw Garlan and the Tyrell retainers with Jaime.

"Your grace, this is just an unfortunate misunderstanding..." Garlan tried to placate the king, but Robert was far too drunk to see reason. Nor would he have wanted to listen, even in a sober state. Arthur knew it all too well. He had heard it from all the men around him. His father, Ser Addam, Prince Oberyn, Prince Doran and many more. Robert Baratheon wanted his war. A war to have an excuse to kill the remaining Targaryens. This was just the perfect excuse for him.

"Misunderstanding? What is there to misunderstand? That bastard Lannister boy is threatening my son, my heir! This is treason and everyone who supports it is an enemy of the crown." Robert barked.

Eddard Stark was immediately next to his friend and started talking to Robert. Arthur couldn't hear what the northern lord had said, but the king was obviously not happy. "NO. No, Ned. No more excuses. They have mocked us for long enough with their Targaryen whore! I will have none of it." But Eddard Stark was insistent and continued with what looked like a heated argument. "Fine! Fine. You are a worse pain in the arse than Jon Arryn." Robert muttered, before he turned his horse around to leave. "Selmy, go get my son!"

Ser Barristan could get to Joffrey without anyone stopping him, as everyone was just happy about the obvious deescalation. Arthur watched the wizened man, as he got closer and helped Joffrey up from them ground.

"Both of you should have known better," the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard chided, "This childish folly brings us to the brink of war." Arthur looked worried when he heard this. This was a conflict between cousins, not a matter for the whole realm. But Joffrey was unwilling to listen and briskly walked towards where he had left his horse. Without even a single glimpse back, he left on horseback, his companions following quickly. "Wars have started for lesser reasons, learn this lesson well." Ser Barristan said to Arthur, before he departed to rejoin his king's retinue.

Arthur looked towards his own companions, to see whether they are alright. Luckily none of them were hurt. Cletus was back to his usual careless smile and Quentyn was once more brooding. But Arthur had to suppress a shudder, when he saw his father. Jaime Lannister was not happy. Not at all. But before he looked at his son, Jaime's attention was on another boy. The Stark bastard, much to Arthur's confusion. Why would he care for a northern bastard? But he had no time to ponder this for long, as his father was quickly by his side.

"Father, I..."

"No excuses, Arthur. You have disappointed me today. I trusted you to know better." Just hearing his father say those words hurt him more than any wound he could have received during his fight. He had two idols as he grew up, two men he wanted to be like. His uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne and his own father. To hear these words from one of them was a blow that he could not prepare for. "I should have known that it would come to this... I should not have allowed you to come to this hunt."

"Jaime, we should return to the camp. The fat king will still continue to hunt, to calm down after this, but we should leave now." Ser Addam was next to his father, looking worried. "We need to warn the others about this."

"Yeah. Come, Arthur. Let's go back. You will explain to Rhaenys and the others why our situation has just become even more difficult. You will explain how you and your foolish cousin have just given that fat oaf another reason to go to war." Jaime said sternly, before he turned around and walked back to his horse.

Arthur waited some more moments, as he watched his father leave. Had he really messed everything up, just by fighting against his cousin? Did none of the adults understand that this was nothing more than a conflict between cousins?

"Come, my friend, let us go home," Cletus said, as he lead Arthur back to their horses with a hand on his shoulder.