(Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire nor its characters. Those all belong to George R. R. Martin, aside from my OC.)
(Firmridge, the Riverlands)
The fight between Yohn and Clegane had captured the interest of those spectating, these were some of the best warriors Westeros had to offer, and seeing them face off certainly excited the crowds.
The Lannisters weren't paying much attention to the victory of their bannermen, their main instead being on the errant daughter who did her best to ignore her kin.
Tyrion had been worried about what hare-brained scheme his sister was up to, it didn't help that his gut told him that he absolutely could not allow the meeting to occur.
Despite her attitude and generally self-destructive tendencies, she was still a Lannister and her worth was greater than most lords could ever hope to achieve. A bargaining chip that could be used at any moment.
Had she not been such an utter bitch of a sister, and intensified the division within the family, perhaps he wouldn't have sold her to as a broodmare to some lordling.
While he was angry that they had plotted against him, they were still family and their deaths had reduced the strength and size of their House.
"What possessed you to do something so foolish? To barge to the King himself!" Genna whispered furiously to her charge.
Cersei merely sniffed at them, as if they weren't worth her time. "I don't need to explain myself to you."
Tyrion genuinely feared that his Aunt would strike her then and there, uncaring for those snakes and watching them for any signs of weakness.
Thankfully, she calmed herself, though the look she sent Cersei made it clear that this was not over. "Watch your tongue girl, this might not be Casterly Rock, but you will conduct yourself gracefully."
"Lay of the Girl Sis, I'm sure she understands just how much trouble she is in," Gerion interjected.
A wise move, if the defiant look on Cersei was telling.
She was likely to cause another stir to spite them, more than she already has.
Sighing, his Aunt turned to spectate the fights.
He could already feel a headache coming, first the old Redwyne hag and now his sister. This tournament was beginning to look more and more troublesome.
Only to raise his eyebrow at the expectant look on his Uncle's face.
Shit, he almost forgot.
Uncle Kevan wanted him to find a wife, and by the encouraging look he was sending him and the smug face of Gerion, they expected him to start soon.
Could this day get any worse?
...
Baelor was beginning to tire, making it harder to keep the momentum behind his swings, his opponent was relentless in his assault, a knight from the Vale he assumed by his colors.
The knight's determination was certainly commendable, unfortunately, he was making this more difficult than it should be.
His wild and aggressive strikes were wearing the Hightower heir out, which he couldn't afford. Deciding to end this now, he swung with a visible flourish to the knight, wanting to take advantage of the supposed opening provided, the knight swung without hesitation.
Only for Baelor to swiftly respond and catch him off guard. Before he could react, Baelor parried the incoming strike and then proceeded to give him another blow that sent him down to his knees.
With his blade to the Knights neck, the valemen had no choice but to drop his sword and yield. "I Yield, you have won this bout my Lord." the man said respectfully.
"You sound young, how old are you boy?"
"Eight and the name-days, my Lord," the young man admitted sheepishly.
Giving the knight a thoughtful look, a sudden idea came to mind.
"What do you think about joining my retinue lad? I'd hate to see such a promising talent waste away."
The boy gave him a surprised but ecstatic look and with no hesitation he immediately knelt to the Hightower heir and swore himself to him.
It was almost too fast for Baelor, nearly giving a whiplash in the process, whatever reason, this boy didn't care much for his present circumstances. That was something to look into.
"You can keep your ransom boy, make sure to head straight to my men, they'll get you all squared up."
"Thank you, my Lord, I won't disappoint!"
As the young knight rushed out of the area, Baelor could only shake his head in bemusement.
…
Alerie watched her brother acquire another promising knight, the idiot completely ignoring the fact that they weren't the only ones fighting.
A good thing that nearly all combatants were too busy in their fights to care.
"There goes Ser Osgrey," said Loras.
Sending his brother a look, "It's Lord Osgrey Loras, we've been over this." Willas chided.
"Does it matter?"
"It certainly does little brother."
"With how proud he is, this defeat is certainly going to sting," Garlen said with a chuckle.
"Look it's the Red Viper." Loras pointed at the infamous Prince of Dorne who was having his fun with his opponents.
The Tyrells stared curiously at Doran's brother as he took on three reachmen with little difficulty and leading said men was none other than Mathis Rowan
It was quite the sight, as the prince played with competitors like they were unruly children.
She could faintly make out him mocking their stances, their mothers, and their pets.
The last one seemed a little much, but his riling up seemed to be working.
In quick succession two of the three fell to the snake's blade as they recklessly rushed after their hated foe with only Mathis remaining behind and refusing to fall for his petty tricks.
"Mom, do you think Lord Mathis can win." her rose asked with a tilt to her head.
"Mathis might be a competent commander and a skilled warrior…" She started.
"Unfortunately, the red viper is not someone he can hope to beat." Garlan continued, causing her daughter to frown.
"You don't like him, I take it," Willas stated.
"I bet Tyene 5 golden crowns that a reachmen would beat him," Margaery complained, earning her an eye-roll from her eldest.
She merely huffed at him.
...
Jason knew he was beaten, the Mallister Lord wasn't getting any younger, and Lorimas was far more skilled than him despite being near his age.
"I'd love to know your secret, how in the blazes can you keep this up." Letting out a grunt of annoyance.
His brother-in-law's response was to smile smugly at him before swinging his blade once more.
Blasted Mudd and his seemingly unending stamina.
Still, he refused to go down easily, dodging the man's strike and sending one of his own. The two swords met in a flurry of strikes as they tried to get past each other's guards.
He attempted to strike at his left, but Lorimas was well prepared, earning him a cut for his trouble. The next few seconds were a blur as tried to hold on for as long as possible.
To his surprise, Lorimas backed up a bit, giving him some reprieve before moving forward and swinging at him with great momentum.
Ardent gleamed in the sunlight as it struck down hard on his blade.
The spectators gasped as his sword was cut cleanly leaving him with a near useless blade and the masterful blade to his chest.
"I yield," he said.
"Well fought Brother," Lorimas said with a smile.
"Yes… Yes… you must tell how you have such energy to do this all without tiring you old rascal." Jason grumbled at his friend, though he couldn't hide the smile on his face.