Chapter 13
Link sighed in boredom as he stared out of the high narrow windows of the Great hall, watching as the light of the sun reflected off of the stained glass. He glanced around the hall, noting that it was busier than usual and that Robert looked as interested in today's proceedings at court as Link felt, slouched as he was whilst he sat the Iron Throne. One noble was accusing another of stealing a mill that had been under his lands whilst the other refuted this with an equally loud argument. He could have wept with joy when Robert finally stood from his throne to dismiss the two squabbling Lords, his looming height made larger by the towering monster that was the throne. The only reason that Link had stayed so long at court, and that it was so busy, was because the King had an announcement to make. Another tourney no doubt.
"My Lords and Ladies, it has been ten years since I killed that bastard Rhaegar Targaryen and destroyed the mad dragons. It is with great pleasure that I announce a tourney to be held by the end of this moon, in celebration of my coronation and the Mad King's death!" Robert said to great applause and a few grumbles to those who still held the Targaryens in high regard.
"Gods damn him!" Tyrek swore from behind him as Loras laughed and Link shook his head.
"Pay up Tyrek, you should have known not to bet on a hunt." Loras said, his golden brown eyes sparkling in delight as Tyrek grumbled and handed over a gold dragon. "The King is extravagance personified, why dear Tyrek, would he sacrifice a grand tourney for a hunt?" Loras asked with a smug smirk, his brown curls bobbing around him as he did, Tyrek only glared in response. Link knew that Loras was only half right, the King would no doubt go on a hunt right after this tourney. As the two squires argued, Robert rose from his throne again and walked down the uneven steps of the Iron Throne, leaving the Great hall followed by two of the Kingsguard. That's our queue to leave, thank Nayru. Link said his goodbyes to Loras and left with Tyrek at his side to attend to the King.
To Link's surprise they followed Robert to the small council chambers, where he sat at the head of the long ironwood table, his hand, Jon Arryn to his right. Grand Maester Pycelle was the last to shuffle in the room and take his seat. If the other members of the small council were shocked at Robert's arrival they didn't show it. In all the time that Link had been his squire, Link could only recall being present for three small council meetings with the King. Once when there had been a sighting of the Beggar King, Viserys Targaryen and his sister Daenerys in Volantis with the Golden Company. The King had been wroth when Varys told him, he had crushed his goblet in his fist with before throwing it against the wall with a great bellow of rage. Link had resolved to not play his harp within Robert's hearing that day, less the King's wrath fell upon him too.
The other two times, like this one, had been concerning either a tourney or a grand feast. "Right you shits! Let's get this copper counting over and done with." Robert said as he scratched his beard, which hid the jowls of fat under his chin, whilst he and Tyrek filled the cups of the Lords with arbour gold.
"Your grace," Lord Arryn started, his silver brow furrowed and his voice laced with resignation, "how big do you want this tourney to be?" Robert pondered on the question for a while, thumbing his beard lined jaw all the while, before a light entered his dark stormy blue eyes.
"It will be the best tourney this damned kingdom has ever seen. More extravagant than the one at Harrenhal. 50,000 gold for the winner of the joust and 20,000 for the winners of both the melee and the archery contest." Robert said as he slurped on his wine. Lord Arryn's face crumpled once he heard the winner's purse.
"Your grace, I am afraid that this is an extravagance that the realm can not afford. We are already one million dragons in debt to the Iron Bank-" Lord Arryn said with a severe look to his already weary face before Lord Baelish interrupted him.
"One and a half million dragons my Lord Hand." Baelish said with an apologetic smile that never reached his sickly green eyes. Lord Arryn only sent a clipped nod in return.
"Bah, borrow it from Tywin Lannister then. The God's only know that it will be payment for all the Lannisters that he has put in my court." Robert said flippantly. The slight washed over Link like water rain did to a mountain. Tyrek on the other hand, was not so resistant to the King's jibe. Tyrek's face flushed with colour and his jaw clenched at the insult. Lord Arryn's eyes looked to Tyrek and Link then, a silent apology. Father gained Robert's favour through the death of women and children, he deserves worse than a mere insult.
Everyone knew the story of the Sack of King's Landing, of the murder of Elia Martell and her babes by the Mountain and Ser Amory Lorch. His father had presented their mangled corpses to Robert as an act of loyalty, and from that bloody deed his father was awarded with a queen. Not only would this tourney celebrate ten years since Robert's coronation, but the murder of Princess Elia and her Targaryen children. This tourney is built on the bones of the innocent.
"I will send the raven at once, your grace." Pycelle said, looking half asleep with the way his eyes drooped and his body slouched. In the same message the Grand Maester would also no doubt relay all that was discussed in today's meeting, including the King's slight.
"Your grace, my little birds sing a disquieting song from the Kingswood of late." Varys said in a soft voice, with his powdered cheek resting against his palm. Robert only grunted and shot the spymaster a dark look, as if to say get on with it. "There are rumours of a new Kingswood brotherhood gathering. So far there hasn't been much trouble from them, other than robbing a few of the wealthier lesser Lords and landed knights." An oppressive silence hung in the chamber after Varys finished speaking, shock etched on each of their faces, even Lord Baelish's smirk was gone, replaced with a considering frown.
Link watched Jaime carefully as he stood guarding the door along with Boros Blount. Jaime had stiffened and paled to the colour of milk, the arrogant gleam that had seemed permanent was gone from his feline eyes. Tyrion had often told Link the tale of Jaime's clash with the Smiling Knight and Simon Toyne alongside Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan the Bold.
"Lord Renly, ride out with one hundred gold cloaks and twenty of my household guards to bring these bandits to justice, if you are in agreement." Lord Aryn said, breaking through the silence. The Hand's plan was a sound one, but the Lord of the Stormlands was young and untested, a greenboy, he prayed that it would work, it would give Loras a chance to prove himself. If he distinguishes himself, he mayhaps be knighted. The youngest since Daemon Blackfyre.
Lord Renly bolted up from his previously slouched position with a grin as Lord Stannis sighed with contempt. "It would be an honour, Lord Hand."
"I recommend you set out at once Lord Renly, with the coming tourney it would be a perfect time for them to strike." Renly bobbed his head with a grin in response and bowed to the King before taking his leave. As he left Robert rose, goblet of sour red in hand before taking his leave as well, muttering about 'counting coppers' as Link and Tyrek hurried to chase after him.
As twilight descended upon King's Landing, Link bid goodnight to Lann and set out to Flea Bottom in a roughspun tunic and worn breeches in search of Val. In the few years since he had met her in the alleys of Flea Bottom, Val had only grown more beautiful. She was a year his elder and would have turned heads in many a noble court, never mind Flea Bottom.
As he ran and jumped across the many rooftops along the Street of Sisters, the crumbling dragon pit looming atop of Rhaenys' hill, he could almost imagine that he was back home in Kokiri forest with Saria, climbing and laughing as he chased her throughout the treetops of the Lost Woods.
Once he reached Flea Bottom, he climbed down from the rooftops, careful not to fall through any of the less sturdier buildings that comprised Flea Bottom. He walked along the muddy paths the rest of the way to the orphanage, his face breaking into a grin once it came into sight. The orphanage had come a long way after he had started helping Septa Jeyne with the costs. No longer was it crumbling or rotting, it stood tall among the poorly made hovels of Flea Bottom. Val hadn't been happy once she learned that he had given the orphanage his patronage, believing that they were bleeding him dry. Once he had told her who his father was, however, she didn't complain about his gold.
"Tywin Lannister is your father!" She snapped, her lilac eyes burning with rage. "He sacked the city! His men- they hurt Jeyne." Link's eyes widened as Val slumped, the fight leaving her as she leaned her head against his shoulder, looking out over the city from the roof they occupied. Disgust and horror welled within him, alongside an emotion he had not felt since his death. Hate.
"Val, what happened to Jeyne was an evil act. My father is a terrible man and I hate him for what he has done to the innocents of this kingdom. He has built his precious legacy upon the suffering of others, and that will not stand! I promise you this Val; I will right the wrongs that my father has committed upon the people of this land. I will not stop, I will not rest until there is peace, true peace within Westeros. I will save it from the corruption and evil of men like my father!" Link exclaimed, a steely resolve filling his heart as he stared at the brilliant stars in the night sky.
Val looked at him, an emotion that he could not describe burning in her beautiful pale lilac as she nodded at him, solidifying his vow.
Link cleared his head of memories as he stared at the orphanage and more importantly, the striking young woman sitting on its roof, waiting for him. A curtain of silver framed her pale face, the moonlight only added to her hair's radiance. High, sharp cheekbones gave her an air of nobility and her plump pink lips were stretched into a worried frown as she waited for him. Val wore a simple brown dress that clung to her lithe figure like a second skin. It was her eyes that took Link's breath away, a haunting lilac that even the most beautiful maiden would die for. I loved a maid as white as winter, with moonglow in her hair. Link shook the melody away with a smile, he had sung it to his sweet niece Myrcella when he had visited her last.
Val scowled when she noticed him. "What took you so long!" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. Link grinned and ruefully shook his head as he climbed up the building to sit with her.
"The King suggested to Ser Aron that I spar against Ser Boros, when I beat him in every bout he was not best pleased." To say that Boros had not been pleased when Link had thrashed him three times in a row was like saying that Casterly Rock was a big castle, whilst not incorrect it was an understatement. Ser Boros had demanded that he run laps around the walls of the Keep. The bastard had made him run for hours.
Link would visit Val once every week, and when he did they would sit out and watch the stars together. Sometimes they spoke of their worries, other times they would just lay together in silence, each drawing strength from the other's presence. On an odd occasion Link may even bring his harp along and play a song from Hyrule from her. Either way, it was a night where Link could be himself. With Val he wasn't brother to the Queen or heir to Casterly Rock, he was just Link.
His humorous mood vanished like water in the deserts of Dorne as he sat beside Val and saw the dried tear tracks running down her pale face.
"What happened Val?" Link asked softly. Tears welled in her eyes, and like a damn bursting open, she broke down into sobs, launching herself into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry, rubbing soothing circles along her back with his hand and humming a song he thought he would never play again, Zelda's lullaby.
Once she had no tears left to cry, she raised her head and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes. "There was a boy, a child, he was friends with some of the younger children in the orphanage. He would always blabber about how he would be the best knight in Westeros. He went out and swore to the others that when he returned he would be a squire to a knight. I was," Val stopped herself and gulped, trembling still as more tears shone in her lilac eyes, "curious. I wanted to see if he would succeed. He went down to the tourney grounds outside the city and he-" Val broke down once more, her face red and blotchy from crying. Link cupped her cheek and wiped away her tears.
"Val, I know this hurts, but I need to know what happened so I can help," he said reassuringly. It hurt to see her like this, the defiant girl that he knew so distraught. It had been two weeks since the King had announced the tourney and the grounds were already packed.
"There was a knight, he was huge, the biggest man I've ever seen and Olyvar asked him to be his squire. At first the knight ignored him but Olyvar kept asking, begging. When I thought to step in and bring him back, the knight grabbed Olyvar's arm so hard that it crunched. Gods Link his scream, I'll never forget his scream." Val said, her voice getting duller and more sombre as the tale went on. A giant knight that would hurt a child so severely that the boy would shriek in pain. Link had only heard of one man like that. The Mountain.
"When I heard him scream I froze. I was so scared Link, I didn't know what to do. The knight didn't stop, he pushed Olyvar to the ground and stomped on his head. Olyvar's head crumpled-" Val said before Link shushed her gently and pulled her into his arms once more as she cried into his chest. As he comforted Val, Link felt the anger that he kept chained within him throughout Val's story bubble over in his chest. Wrath thrummed in his veins as one singular thought consumed him. Justice.
"I wish that I was a queen like your sister Link." Val said, her voice muffled by his roughspun tunic. Link laughed darkly.
"Trust me, Val. My sister is many things. Someone to aspire to is not one of them." he said, before wincing as Val punched him. That hurt.
"Shut up stupid. I didn't mean it like that and you know it. If I were queen, then I would build a great castle or manse for all the orphans of King's Landing. A place where boys and girls like Olyvar would be safe to dream." Val said, some of her usual passion and defiance seeping into her tone. Link grinned. I would have tried to do the archery contest anyway.
"Then, your grace, I will make you Queen." Link whispered. He would bring the false knight, Ser Gregor Clegane to justice, for the murder of Princess Elia, of her children Rhaenys and Aegon, and of the boy Olyvar who had dreamed of knighthood.
Link gave Val one last gentle squeeze before disentangling from her. "Look for the Knight of Time at the tourney, Queen Val, and all will be well. The hour of ghosts is upon us and I must be off." He said, giving her one last hug before waving and climbing down the orphanage and heading to the direction of the Red Keep, leaving Val stunned behind him.
"What do you mean you'll make me Queen?" She called angrily after him, frustration lacing her words.
"On the day of the joust, be at the front of the crowds, I'll do the rest." He said with a rogue grin before running off into the city. His confidence evaporated when he realised who else would be in the joust. Mayhaps I won't make you Queen Val, after all Jaime and Ser Barristan will be taking part. Link shrugged and knew that even if it was the Warrior himself in his way, he would still fight on, for Val's dream and for the dream of a better Westeros.
Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year Everyone!
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