Another dragon, another wolf, another stag

by Deus Swiftblade

They had heard of the tourney at Harrenhal. They had heard of the rebellion that followed. They had heard of the defeated stag and the threatening wolf. They had thought that was just the past and was no concern of theirs. But the gods seem to enjoy watching the same play being preformed again, just with different mummers and at a different place.

19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

Another dragon, another wolf, another stag

Chapter 19: Arianne

"Talking"

"Thinking"

(Location: Riverrun)

The day was over and the feast was going. Arianne watched it all happen from her seat at the royal table. There was a gentle breeze ruffling through her hair, one that wasn't as dry as one she could've felt in Dorne. She found that she rather liked it.

It had been her suggestion to the king and queen that brought the feast outside to the open. She had suggested it to them that morning, after the little scene regarding Cersei Lannister's boy. Her aunt had agreed whole-heartedly and was able to convince the king. The heir to Dorne found the night to be quite pleasant. If the wind was drier, she would've thought that she was back in Sunspear.

She thought that the day had gone rather well, for the beginning of the tourney. There had been the opening matches for the joust but the main focus of the day had been the archery contest. She knew that her cousin Sarella would join and she would reach the final competition, in spite of what everyone would say about it. However, the only irritation wasn't the fact that there were others who had reached the final, but rather that Theon Greyjoy had reached it too. The ironman had been offered a hand of friendship from Dorne for saving Elia and Obella, but he rejected it with scorn. It was enough to earn her ire.

But that was not the only thing that irritated her. All she had to do was look at the Stark table, gaze upon their eldest daughter, and anger burned within her. Sansa Stark was pretty there was no doubt about it. She looked like she had barely flowered and her body was already turning into a womanly form. And with her red hair and blue eyes that proclaimed her to be a Tully, she was quite striking and received looks from the men at Riverrun.

But it wasn't her looks that irritated Arianne. It was how she behaved and acted. She acted so innocent and naïve, and the way she talked it was like she believed that the songs were real and she was living amongst them. "Foolish, foolish girl," she thought to herself. "Don't they teach you anything in that frozen waste?"

But it was also the fact that she was betrothed to Viserys Targaryen and she acted like it did not matter one bit. Even before she had flowered she had been told that she would marry the king's younger brother. She hadn't given it much thought then. But after she had shared her bed with men, she understood what it truly meant. When she looked upon the king and her cousin, she fantasized about Prince Viserys. In her mind's eye he was just as handsome as Rhaegar and Aegon but with a rougher edge since he came from the wolves now.

When he arrived in Riverrun, he didn't disappoint. She gazed upon him and thought him to be a true man of the North with the beauty of the dragons. She had looked him in the eyes and sent him a mysterious smile that she knew made men's knees weak. But he had ignored the smile and had treated her no different than any other woman he had come across. She had thought that he was playing hard to get. She enjoyed going after men like that, particularly when they were handsome.

But the king came, Prince Viserys was told of his betrothal, and he refused it. No, he did more than refuse it. He insulted her, her uncle, and Dorne. And then, he had the audacity to declare he was betrothed to the insipid little girl sitting there. He sat next to her and whispered something in her ear. Red flamed in her cheeks and she let a very lady-like giggle.

Anger burned through her body at the sight of them. Seeing the prince acting so content and happy just reminded her of what happened last night. He had looked at her and Tyene with a look that had all but screamed of how right he had been. He might've looked them over once but said nothing, leaving as soon as he had appeared. If she hadn't known better, she would've thought that he had been lying in wait.

But her mood changed as she thought about what had been happening before the prince had shown his face. Jon Snow, standing waist deep in the waters of the river, a sight she enjoyed. But it wasn't one she had enjoyed fully because they had been interrupted. She had been so close, she just knew it. If they hadn't been interrupted, she knew that she would've been able to get the bastard to look at her. She could still feel his skin on her hands. And those muscles, oh, she could feel those too. All taunt and perfect. When she saw the water fall off his arms, the drops emphasized the muscles even more.

"Are you enjoying the food, Princess?" Lady Ashara asked from beside her. Her voice brought her out of her thoughts like Nym's whip cracking.

"Yes, yes I am, Lady Ashara," she replied evenly, stopping herself from being surprised. "The food is excellent. I did not know that food from the Riverlands could tasteful."

There was an amused look on her face and she knew that she had been caught. "You're lying," the Lady of Starfall said.

"Ashara," Queen Elia admonished her from where she sat down the table, next to the king. Since they were of the queen's blood, the Martells sat at her right at the high table.

"It is the truth, your Grace," she said, looking at the queen and her friend. "You can see it on her face." She looked back at Arianne. "So, what was it you were thinking about? Perhaps it was the Woman's game?"

She was a little surprised that she knew that. None of the ladies playing the game had told their chaperones or the ladies that had come with the royal entourage. "How did you know?"

She smiled. "I do have eyes, your Highness. I know what to look for. So, tell us, who is the poor man you've decided to prey on?"

Arianne only gave her cousin a brief look before answering, "Jon Snow."

"Jon Snow?" her aunt said with a curious look.

Surprisingly enough, it was Lady Dayne who answered, "The bastard of Eddard Stark." She said it with a somber tone and looked at the Stark table with sadness in her eyes. Arianne saw the sadness and was confused by it. She looked to her aunt and saw there was sympathy there.

She wondered why those were there. But then she remembered Jocelyn Sand. In another life, Ashara might have married Lord Stark instead of him marrying Catelyn Tully. "My apologies, Lady Ashara," she apologized. "I did not mean to drag up painful memories with my words."

She looked a little surprised for a moment, looking across the table at her. Then the surprise vanished. "Think nothing of it, Arianne," she said, waving it away with her hand, although her eyes lingered on her daughter at the Stark table. "So tell me, how has Lord Stark's son vexed the young ladies of the court?"

Her attention was turned away from the trout marinated in a white wine sauce. "What do you mean by that, my lady?" she asked her.

The older lady smiled like she was privy to a jape only she knew. "If Jon Snow is anything like his father, then he has done a few things that have irritated the ladies of the court while not being actually aware of it." Her look became thoughtful. "I would say that he has not responded to the advances you have given him, he's kept to himself and out of the way, and he refuses to discuss if he will join the tourney or not."

Again Arianne shared a look with Rhaenys. That was it exactly. Jon Snow had done those exact same things. While it had vexed everyone, it just made them want to win even more so. But how was Lady Dayne aware? "How did you know?" she dared to ask the lady. She didn't have to look behind her to know that Rhaenys was looking too.

She just chuckled. "If there hadn't been that little 'incident,'" she said, casting a look at the king, "the tourney at Harrenhal would probably have been remembered for the Women's game with Eddard Stark as the chosen man."

Those words, so easily spoken like she was talking about a horse, would have forced Arianne to sit down if she had been standing up. "Is this true?" she dared to ask, almost thinking that it was a jape. She looked over at her uncle and saw that he had a foul irritated look on his face. If he had that look about, it must've been true.

"It's true, Arianne," Queen Elia told her. "At Harrenhal, all the ladies, from Cersei Lannister to Lysa Tully to my friend Ashara, vied to convince Eddard Stark to ask for their favor. It was a long, hard fight but in the end, the Lady Dayne stood victorious."

She didn't look that satisfied with the results of that game. Or she was thinking of what that tourney was remembered for. But Arianne didn't care about that. "So you've been through the same as us?" she asked, wanting to be sure.

"More or less," Lady Ashara replied.

Elia chuckled. "There's no need to be modest, Ashara."

She still looked somber. "It is in the past, Elia. I would like to keep it there."

"At least you can take some satisfaction in what happened," Rhaenys remarked from where she sat. "You saw Cersei Lannister fail in something."

"It wasn't from a lack of trying." There were the faintest hints of a smile on her lips when she said that. It almost broke her somber mood, but it held.

But Arianne's royal cousin wouldn't be deterred. "Perhaps you could give us some advice? He's not like any other man we've played for."

"That's because the boy is from the North and although he may be a bastard, he has the Stark blood in him," she told Rhaenys.

"Aye, we know that well enough," Arianne chimed in. She looked at the king. "It seems that your warning about Starks and meeting them in moonlight was true, your Grace." She might've laughed lightly at those words, like it was a jape. But she still remembered Jon Snow standing at the river bank, so sad and so quiet about it, unwilling to let anyone know the pain he was going through. She had wanted to step out of the bushes when she saw that expression of contained and restrained misery and heal it away. She had wanted to take him away from all that had hurt him to a place where he would be loved.

Then she realized what she had said and instantly paid attention to the king. His face was somber and so was his wife. "It was said for a reason," he said. No one said anything as the air suddenly felt tenser. No one talked about the tourney at Harrenhal anymore, just like no one spoke of the prophecy he had obsessed. She had heard about the red priestess that came to King's Landing and who was forced out of it soon after. "Tell me about this Jon Snow," he finally spoke the silence.

Aegon was happy enough to answer the question, something that both she and Rhaenys were a bit uncertain of doing. "He's a decent enough of a fellow. Lady Dayne has the right of it when she said that he would keep to himself. The only ones who actually seem to know him are his own family and a small group of friends that have popped up here in Riverrun. He doesn't have a good standing with Lady Catelyn but her children treat him well. Also, I think that he would be able to match you for singing, Father."

The remark made Arianne remember Jon Snow's singing. Gods, just thinking about it made her skin shiver. His voice had been turned into something that trailed across her body like a lover's lips, leaving her wanting more. When he had looked at her, it was like he was both seeing through her and marking her as the next hunt.

She saw Ser Arthur smile. "I believe that you are forgetting something, Prince Aegon."

All eyes fell to the prince. He wasn't ashamed to say, "Aye, he has a sword arm that's better than mine. He bested me in a duel."

"A duel?" the queen replied, looking at her son with a frown. "What were you doing dueling a bastard?"

"It was my idea. I had sparred against the Northern men. It was Lord Domeric who told me that Jon Snow was the best amongst them."

"And so you challenged him to a duel."

He looked a little embarrassed. "Actually, it was a spar. And he said no."

The queen paused, actually looking surprised. "He said no?" From off to the side, Arianne heard Ser Whent snicker to himself.

"He did. I tried to convince him that he wouldn't need to fear any consequences but he refused."

"Why?" asked the king, curiosity coloring his voice.

"He kept saying that he was a bastard."

To that, Ser Whent let out an actual bark of laughter. "What is funny, Oswell?" asked the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Even though he was old, all Arianne had to do was look at Ser Gerold Hightower and know that he was not frail. He stood tall and strong, almost like an immovable object. She had once seen a man from the Westerlands known as the Mountain stand before the White Bull in the training yard. Even though he was a good two feet taller than the White Bull, the Mountain could not withstand his gaze and left the field, albeit leaving several wounded men behind.

Ser Oswell looked at his Lord Commander. "Nothing much, Ser Gerold," he replied, grinning darkly. It matched his humor all too well. "I just find someone refusing the chance to spar against the prince to be amusing. I had thought that they all wanted to put the smug little snot right on his rump." If this hadn't been the first time she had heard Ser Whent's humor, she would've thought him to be rude.

Prince Aegon smiled good-naturally at the knight. "Well, Ser Oswell, he was the one to do it. I had to surprise him during one of the dinner feasts but I was able to get that spar from him. He first tried to pretend that he was horrible so I would defeat him easily."

"And I suppose that you caught him on it and challenged him again, ordering him to actually fight the second time around?" Ser Oswell asked him.

"Yes, more or less."

"And how did that go?"

"He beat me," Arianne's cousin said without shame. In fact, he said with a bit of chuckle. "He beat soundly and it seemed almost without effort. He knocked my sword out of my hand and wielded it in his free one."

"Is that so?" the queen remarked.

Ser Arthur spoke out. "The Prince has the right of it, your Grace. Jon Snow is able to wield two swords in tandem."

"Just like you, Ser Arthur," she replied. Those words made Arianne pause. She knew that the natural ability to wield two swords was something that was incredibly rare. Some say that it passed only through the blood. She eyed Ser Dayne again. If those stories were true, then it might be Jon Snow was related to the Sword of the Morning. She cast a quick look at Lady Ashara, wondering if she knew this.

"Aye, your Grace, like myself," he answered. "I sparred against him last night." All the young ladies at that table stared at him with looks of surprise and shock. Jon Snow had sparred against the Sword of the Morning? Why hadn't they heard of this before?

"Did you lose too, Ser Arthur?" Prince Aegon asked with a grin on his face.

"Not in the slightest. The boy is good but he still has a ways to go. He needs experience to further his skills."

King Rhaegar looked thoughtful as he looked out at the festival. Arianne wondered what it was that was going through his mind at that moment. She looked out at the festival too and saw something she did not think to see. Both Willas Tyrell and Asha Greyjoy were sitting at the same table, talking quite cordially, and were sharing a horn with each other. "What else do you think of him, Arthur?" King Rhaegar asked, bringing Arianne out of her thoughts and sight.

Ser Arthur considered his thoughts before he spoke. "I think that if we give him enough time to grow and mature, we might have a promising candidate for a Kingsguard in him."

Arianne did not dare to glare at him for that remark but her blood did burn with outrage at that remark. She wasn't going to let Jon Snow become a Kingsguard, not if it was her decision. But the king actually looked thoughtful to the idea. "I'm afraid that cannot happen, Ser Arthur," Aegon said. "I broach the idea to him and he refused, reminding me that I have already promised a member of the Kingsguard to a trueborn Stark."

"That is not your decision to make, Aegon," his father told him sternly.

He held his father's gaze. "I didn't promise her now or when I sit the Iron Throne. She will have to prove herself to earn a white cloak." He paled when he was done talking, as if he realized that he had said something he shouldn't have.

"Her?" the queen repeated. "You promised one of the Stark girls…" She trailed off. "I believe that I can already guess which of the Stark girls you promised it to."

"It wasn't because of the reason you think," he was quick to tell her. "It was because she declared that she was going to be the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. I told her that if that would happen, she could be on my Kingsguard. Then I swore an oath to make it so. Ser Ryswell witnessed it."

All eyes fell on the Kingsguard from the North. It was because of his origins that Arianne and her cousins felt like they could not trust him. She supposed it was a credit to him that he ignored all of their suspicious or slightly mocking scorn (although that last one quickly stopped after the queen had a word with them). Even now, Ser Ryswell gave the briefest of nods to his king and did nothing else. "You are serious about this then?" Rhaegar asked his son.

"I am," he answered with a nod. "If you wish to know what I would make her do to get that cloak, she could always steal Blackfyre away from the Golden Company."

"As for her being a woman, neither of us can complain about Arya Stark being unable to be a knight," Rhaenys spoke up. "Not since we are both descended from Visenya Targaryen, my namesake, and Nymeria Martell."

The queen or anyone else didn't have an actual reply to that, so they just chose to stay silent. "Who is giving the Stark girl the training?" Ser Jaime asked. Despite his infamy, the Lannister Kingsguard was closest to the royal family, put to third only by Ser Hightower and Ser Dayne.

"The lady Brienne of Tarth, I believe," Ser Mark replied.

He burst out into laughter, surprising everyone at the table. "The wench?" he asked, trying to stop his laughter but failing in his efforts. "She's learning from the wench?"

"Ser Jaime that is uncalled for," Queen Elia admonished him. "She is a lady and will be treated with respect." He was able to stop his laughter and nodded at her.

"How is it you know her?" Ser Gerold asked him, starting intently at him.

It was Rhaenys who answered. "It was when I went to visit Storm's End with Mya. Lord Renly had hosted a small tourney and the Lady Brienne had joined. She defeated Ser Jaime in the melee. She emerged as the victor in the entire melee and Lord Renly awarded her for it."

"I remember that as well," Ser Barristan said. "Lord Stannis had returned that same night, walking into the merry feast. He had rebuked Renly for the tourney he had thrown in front of all of his guests, Ser Loras and Lady Margaery in particular."

"He was not in the wrong," she told him. "He had expressly told Renly to hold no frivolities while he was away at Crow's Nest and he had come home to a feast held for a tourney. But even though he had rebuked Renly, he honored the results of the tourney and even acknowledged the lady to be a fighter of skill to best Ser Jaime."

Arianne began to drift away from the conversation, her eyes following the people moving through the feast. She wanted to find Jon Snow but she could not find him still. She saw that the other ladies were doing the same, some discreetly and some blatantly. But they could not find him. She wondered where he had gone before deciding that he was likely in the godswood. "It seems he lives there," she thought. She considered going there and found it to be an increasingly good idea.

But when she began to stand, she saw that Sansa Stark stood up as well and left her table. A different thought came to her and she found it much more agreeable. She quickly said her goodbyes to the table and walked away. She eyed her cousins as she walked past them. Obara, Nym, and Tyene followed her.

The girl went from the feast to the path to the godswood. She went without protection, more fool her. It wasn't like Arianne or her cousins were going to kill her. No, they wouldn't do that. But they were going to frighten her. It was nothing that she wasn't going to deserve, the little twit.

"Oi, you," Obara called out once they were out of sight of the feast.

The girl stopped and turned around with a confused look. The look disappeared when she saw who it was behind her. "Princess Arianne," she said, dipping into a small curtsy. "A good evening to you…and your cousins," she added the last part after a moment of silence, looking uncertainly at the Sand Snakes by her side.

If there was one thing Arianne could give the girl, she knew her manners. "Where are you going, Lady Stark?" she asked.

She looked a bit embarrassed. "My brother wanted me to go and see how Jon is doing with his group of friends," she explained, her embarrassment mixing with shame, like she did not want to do the task she was given.

While that news would've interested the princess of Dorne at any other time, she was too focused on her target in front of her. "Is there something bothering you?" she asked, "Do my cousins bother you?"

"No. Why would they?"

She kept her eyes on her. "Perhaps they are bastards?"

"That wouldn't bother me, my lady."

"Princess," she said instantly. "I am Princess Arianne. You would do well to remember that."

The Stark girl's face reddened but she only said, "I apologize, Princess. But I am not bother by your cousins being bastards. My half-brother is a bastard too."

"We are not talking about Jon Snow," Obara told her. She didn't have her spear but that didn't make her any less intimidating to Arianne.

"T-Then what are we talking about?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly in uncertainty.

"We're talking about you, Lady Stark," Nym said, walking around her like a snake coiling around to strike her pray. "We're here to discuss the insult your family has dealt to Dorne."

Sansa Stark looked aghast and shocked. "What insult? I was not aware of any insult. You must be mistaken, my lady. My family would not insult Dorne. I was led to believe that the North and Dorne had a trading arrangement."

Arianne knew about the arrangement. Her uncle had often said that he was surprised that Lord Stark had been able to come up with the idea to mine and import ice to warm kingdoms like Dorne. But she didn't care about that. "Perhaps we should be more specific than."

"Yes, perhaps we should," Tyene agreed, walking the opposite side of Sansa. Together with Nym, they encircled the girl. "We should talk about the insult that you dealt to Dorne."

"Me?" she repeated stupidly. "But-but I have been nothing but courteous and polite to you. I had heard that it was Arya who had insulted you."

Arianne did remember what the little chit had said but she was not paying attention to that now. She was more focused on the Stark in front of her. "Were you aware that you are betrothed to Prince Viserys?" she demanded.

She nodded her head uncertainly. "Yes, I've been aware for a year now."

"A year?" she repeated, making the girl's words sound mockingly, "How short. Were you aware that I have been betrothed to Prince Viserys since I was ten?"

"What? Is that really true?"

Her look turned hard and her cousins stepped in closer around the girl. She looked at them all, completely scared now. "Are you saying that I am a liar, little wolf?" Arianne asked her, her voice turning angry now.

She was trembling now and the Dornish women were enjoying it. "No, I'm not saying that, your Highness. But perhaps you were mistaken."

"So I have been mistaken when I was ten, was it? I was mistaken when both my father and the king told me that I was going to marry Prince Viserys when he came back down from the North?"

The Stark girl's eyes were trying to look at them all at the same time, even Nym who stood behind her. "We didn't know anything about a betrothal. I assure you if we had, my lord father would not have allowed our betrothal."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"It's the truth," she said. If her eyes went even wider, they'd burst out of her head.

"We don't care about the truth," Obara told her in a snap. "What we care about is what you done."

"But I haven't done anything!" Tears started to appear in her eyes, making her look even more pathetic. "If I have caused any insult, it was unintended. You must believe me."

"Hmm, I don't know," Tyene said lightly. The way she spoke as she neared the girl, she sounded like she was talking about a trivial thing. "The insult is rather serious. We should treat it as such."

"Do you suggest a punishment, sister?" Nymeria asked her.

"I do. I suggest that every time she seems close to the prince, we remind her that he doesn't belong to her."

Sansa Stark looked like she was about to piss herself. She tried backing away from them but Arianne's cousin moved with her, stopping her from getting free. "I-I'm his betrothed," she said weakly.

"So am I," Arianne retorted, "much longer than you. So—"

Three things happened at the same time. Direwolves appeared at Sansa Stark's feet, teeth bared at her cousins and growling loudly. Jon Snow and Quentyn appeared from the path leading to the godswood. Prince Viserys and Mya Stone walked up behind them, coming from the feast.

"What in seven hells is going on here?" Viserys demanded, his face looking absolutely murderous. Sansa saw the look and went to his side instantly, fitting her hand into his. He looked down at her hand and it seemed to calm him down.

Obara frowned at him. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

It was the Ursuper's bastard who spoke. "I brought him." She looked directly at Arianne. "I saw you go after Lady Sansa, your Highness, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be for something good. So I let her betrothed know."

"He's my betrothed."

"No, you're not," the prince spat at her.

Her anger grew at that rejection. But before she could say or do anything, Quentyn spoke. "What in the name of the gods is wrong with you, Arianne?" he asked his sister.

"This doesn't concern you, Quentyn," Nymeria told her cousin.

He looked at her. "Actually, it doesn't concern you, Nym, or your sisters. Go back to the feast." She was indignant and raised her hand to her whip. He didn't back down from it, instead choosing to lock his gaze with her. "Obara, Tyene, stay right where you are," he said without looking at them as they tried to get behind him. The wolves followed their movements with bared teeth.

"All of you bastards leave now," Prince Viserys ordered, enforcing what Quentyn had said. The Sand Snakes did not budge until they glanced at Arianne. She gestured for them to go. It would end sooner this way.

Obara frowned slightly but Tyene and Nymeria understood. They left, going back to the feast. Nymeria pushed back Mya as she passed. Arianne watched with approval. The Usurper's bastard waited before going back to the feast herself. Jon Snow was about to leave when the prince spoke again. "Not you, Jon."

"Arianne," Quentyn said, getting her attention. "I have never been more ashamed to be a Martell before now. What were you thinking?" he demanded.

She opened her mouth but Prince Viserys spoke. "I can tell you what she was thinking. She was thinking that if she scared Sansa, she would get some satisfaction for my refusal. Never mind what would come next."

She glared at him. "Why should it matter to you?" she demanded. "What could you possibly see in that inept little—?"

His look darkened and grew dangerous. "Finish that sentence and I will forget that you are the heir to Dorne," he warned, his voice dropping into a snarl. "You wouldn't want that, Princess."

She actually felt a trickle of fear travel down the back of her neck. He looked dangerous at that moment. Not the dangerous that would make him seem attractive but the kind that made him seem like he would gladly kill her. But then Sansa tightened her hand against his and leaned closer to him. "Viserys, please," she told him.

His look vanished as he looked at her. It was something that surprised Arianne. She had thought that he would've gone through with his threat and no one would've stopped him. But the little girl had stopped him before he could've done anything. "Perhaps," Jon Snow said, finally speaking, "it would be for the best that we never talk about what happened here tonight. Nothing good would come of it."

"Yes, that would be for the best," Quentyn agreed. "Wouldn't you say, Arianne?"

"As you say," she said to her little brother. She didn't bother to argue because she didn't see the point anymore. She had gotten her point across to the little twit. The prince saw the look she was giving the redhead and glared darkly again at her. But instead of saying anything, he just turned and left with her, going back to the feast. Quentyn left as well, going back to the godswood.

The Princess of Dorne realized instantly that she was alone with Jon Snow. She turned to look at him with a flirtatious smile. But the smile froze on her face when she looked at him. It wasn't the fact that the wolves stood between them like a living shield and were eyeing her like she was an enemy. No, it was because of how Jon Snow stared at her.

His grey eyes were like steel and they radiated disdain and disappointment. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. It was all said in his eyes and how he managed to keep himself away from her without moving. In that moment, she saw the man that he would grow to be and saw how much of a Stark he looked to be, even if he was the bastard son. Seeing such a sight should've lit a hunger for him in her. Instead, all she felt was a cold wind against her skin. But she would not show him it. She was a Martell. A Martell never bowed, bent, or broke.

He turned around and left her standing there on the path, the wolves following him. She watched him go, not saying a word because of her family's words. But even so, as she watched his back fade into darkness, she could not help but feel that he had lost some respect to her and that she had lost a great advantage in the game.

End

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

And now the reason why Cersei kissed Jon Snow has been revealed. Of course, some of you have already figured that out and to that, I say congrats. Harrenhal was so focused on Lyanna and Rhaegar, no one else really got attention. All you would get after that would be rumors passed around.

Having Stannis rebuke Renly for having a tourney would kinda like having a teenager throw a party only to have their parents get back from their trip early. Stannis, being the man that he is, would have no problems with chewing his little brother out in front of everyone he had invited for the tourney. However, being the man that he is, he would not say that the winnings wouldn't be recognized.

In regards to Arianne's little scaring move with Sansa, it is because that she is most like her uncle. They are both hot-headed and if they don't think it through, it will get them into trouble. That being said, I would like to think that if Quentyn stayed alive, like in this story, he would be more like Doran. We have yet to see Doran actually angry but I get the feeling that is something we do not want to see, at all. By the way, if you're wondering why Quentyn is acting a bit out of character, let's just say he's starting to come out of that shell.

I'll see you all next chapter!