Seeing his squire fall after the fight, Robert leapt over the railing of the royal box onto the tourney grounds without any thought to what the King might think or say. Running to his side, he saw Walder trying to stand again and placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from doing so. The boy had endured quite a beating from the young hound. Blood poured from his nose and from a cut just above his right eye. Robert had been around enough training grounds and battlefields to know that those were merely superficial and was more concerned about the unfocused look of his squire's eyes.
"Just stay there boy. We'll get a maester out here in a moment. Can you tell me where you are?" Robert asked in a concerned tone. It took a few moments for Walder to finally focus on him and answer.
"I…I'm…at a tourney?" The young squire replied, sounding rather unsure of himself.
"Yes, where is the tourney?" Robert replied, trying to keep the boy focused on him.
"Uh…Harrenhal." Walder replied after a few beats of silence. Robert was happy to hear the confidence in the answer but had heard too many stories of knights saying they were fine after receiving head wounds only to never awake the following morning. Robert began calling for a maester and was happy to hear the clicking chain links of the healer approaching quickly. Though Robert found out quickly that the maester was not the only one approaching.
"Walder!" Lyanna cried out as she ran ahead of the other Starks. She was soon kneeling beside him and holding his hand to comfort him.
"Walder, you were amazing! The way you beat all those boys was incredible!" Lyanna was practically vibrating with excitement. It took a few moments for Walder's glazed eyes to focus on her before a wide grin formed on his face. He lifted his arm showing that the ribbon was still attached, though it was now covered in dirt, blood, and mud from when the fight had been taken to the ground.
"All because of your favor m'lady." He replied before wincing and coughing.
"Come, let's let the maester do his work." Robert said while placing a gentle hand on Lyanna's shoulder before addressing Walder again, "I am truly proud of you boy. You did great."
"We're all proud of you," Brandon finally spoke up. "Even if you are wearing the colors of House Baratheon, I'll make sure everyone knows that you are Northern through and through."
Robert could tell from the smug look on Brandon's face that the heir House Stark was eager to extol the strength of the North to all who would listen.
Eventually, the maester gave Walder the go ahead to stand and leave the tourney grounds so that he could do a more thorough inspection. Robert was glad to see that the king had seemingly lost interest in the events and had left the stands. With both the Prince and King having taken their leave, many nobles began following suit meaning the stands were rather sparse when the archery contest was announced. , Robert felt no compulsion to stay himself.
"Lord Brandon, I am going to take our young champion here back to my tent so he can recover. You are all invited to celebrate his victory." Robert said jovially. In truth he wasn't really interested in spending time with the eldest Stark but knew it would be an insult to just invite Lyanna and Ned.
Brandon seemed to consider this for a moment before responding with a nod. It was then Robert finally noticed the young woman with brilliant red hair standing to the right and behind Brandon. She was accompanied by one of the most famous knights in all the realm: Brynden Tully, the Black Fish.
"And of course, you and your uncle are invited as well, Lady Catelyn." He said with a smile. She returned the smile as any well-mannered lady would, but he could see that she was a little surprised by how informally he addressed her.
"I am honored Lord Baratheon, forgive me, but I don't remember having been properly introduced."
"It was some time ago at a tourney in Maidenpool I believe. I never forget a face you know." Robert said dismissively, hoping that nobody would think too much of it. While it was true, it had been before either of them had seen their tenth name day.
"Come on then, we need to celebrate properly." He said quickly, trying to change the subject.
The group made their way to the Baratheon encampment. Robert could feel the weight of all his dealings with the dragons slowly being lifted off his shoulders as he spent time sharing stories and laughing with the family he had always wanted. After making sure Walder was well taken care of and watched over, they began celebrating his victory in earnest. Their conversation drifted from topic to topic as they shared childhood stories of growing up in Winterfell, Storm's End, and the Eyrie. Though she was mostly quiet throughout, Catelyn was occasionally coaxed into sharing stories of growing up in Riverrun. It was after one particular story that Robert finally noticed the strange pendant she was wearing. While she had not really been hiding it, it was far less gaudy and eye-catching than what ladies of her station normally wore.
Hanging from a simple sliver change was a seven-pointed star. That in and of itself was not something strange. It was not uncommon for pious ladies to wear the symbol of the Faith, but what was strange was the material it was made from. Rather than the rainbow of colors it would normally have been made up of, often using expensive gemstones to flaunt the wearer's wealth and piety, it was made of a familiar bone white wood. Robert would be the first to admit that in his previous life something like this would have never registered as something of note but given his run in with the divine it piqued his interest.
"Apologies Lady Catelyn, but I just noticed your star isn't like those worn by the devout. Is there a new trend spreading around these parts?" His tone was one of friendly curiosity, and he was surprised as she moved her hand to cover the symbol.
"If it's something personal, just forget I said anything." He replied, trying to downplay things for her sake.
"No, it is not personal per se, but it is not something I expected anyone to notice while I was here." For a few moments she seemed to be thinking whether she should explain further, but eventually with an oddly determined look she continued. Unclasping her pendant and holding it out for everyone to see, she explained, "It is a Seven-Pointed Star carved from the fallen branches of the Heart Tree of the Riverrun godswood. It is supposed to symbolize the role that the gods play in our lives: the new and the old."
Of all the things that Robert expected to come out of her mouth, that was far from the most expected. It was actually Brandon, clearly deep in his cups, who responded first.
"Best not let your Septons hear you saying all that. I'd hate to have to bring my men south and burn their septs to the ground for harming my betrothed." His tone of voice suggested that he would, in fact, be more than happy to burn every sept in the Riverlands to the ground.
Catelyn's expression was conflicted. It seemed as if she wasn't quite sure how to react to that. It was actually Ned who spoke up with a rebuke.
"Bran, you aren't the second coming of the Hungry Wolf. You should be more respectful of your betrothed."
Brandon was about to respond when Catelyn found her voice and cut in, preventing an argument between the brothers.
"It is actually the new Septon of Riverrun whose teachings I am following. He came to the Riverlands from the Vale a few moons ago and began preaching to the smallfolk about how the Faith has wandered from its true path and that there need not be conflict between the gods. He says that if the light of The Seven is to shine across all the land we must learn to accept the Old Gods for what they are. Some Bracken men heard him preaching and took offense at his words."
"I'm sure they thought he was an agent of the Blackwoods." Robert chimed in.
"Most likely," Catelyn continued. "They arrested him, and he was eventually brought to Riverrun to face censure. My father however took interest in his teachings and invited him to debate the resident Septon to prove their merit." Catelyn paused a moment as if she had taken a moment to relive the debate before continuing
"I have no doubt that my father's interest in this growing movement is mostly political. The Blackwoods can field the largest army in the Riverlands after all, and they still follow the old gods along with most of their banners. Not to mention our growing ties with the North." She smiled at Brandon before continuing.
"But hearing how eloquently the young Septon dismantled the traditional arguments and proofs was enlightening. He made his older opponent sound practically foolish. I am convinced that Septon Cedric truly has been given some kind of divine revelation."
It took a moment for Robert to recognize the name, but as soon as he did, he couldn't help but shout out, surprising all those present.
"Cedric Snow!" he exclaimed "Cedric Snow has been preaching in the Riverlands? Is he here?"
"No, he is still in Riverrun. You know him?" Catelyn asked, clearly confused by Robert's response.
"Of Course, I know him! I spent hours talking with him while he was still in charge of the Sept at the Gates of the Moon. Though he didn't give me the impression he was particularly interested in honoring the Old Gods, in fact he was pretty dead set against it." Robert said, trying to think of what could have pushed the young man to change his tune.
"Right, well, this is all well and good, but I don't think anyone came here to talk about religion." Brandon cut in. "I am pretty sure we're here to celebrate a great victory. Even if the victor is in no condition to join us."
"Yes, something we have been doing for quite some time now." The Black Fish finally spoke up. "Cat, I believe it is time for us to take our leave. Your father should be expecting us back to dine with him. Lord Baratheon, thank you for your hospitality." He concluded with a bow. Robert could tell the old knight wasn't exactly thrilled about being here for some reason and was disappointed that he wouldn't get a chance to learn more about Cedric, but he wouldn't press the issue.
"It was an honor to have you! Until we meet again." As he watched the Tullys leave, he noticed a curious change in Ned's posture and suddenly remembered how his friend had asked Lady Catelyn for a dance as well as taking a twirl with Ashara. Robert really did need to have a chat with him about that in private. Brandon insisted that he and his siblings make their way back to their own tent. Robert was of course sad to see Ned and Lyanna go but understood that he couldn't keep them for the rest of the day.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful and Robert decided to spend time mingling with the rest of his bannermen before Stannis eventually returned. When pressed, his brother admitted that he indeed enjoyed spending time with Lady Delena and wished to continue courting her. Robert laughed stating that was as close to spouting romantic poetry as he would ever probably get; Stannis simply glared. Robert checked in on Walder, and while it seemed that the dangers from the head injury had passed, the boy was in no shape to act as squire for the grand melee being held on the morrow. Robert was truly looking forward to participating and winning again. It had been too long since he had participated in something more challenging than a spar. He had unseated fourteen competitors the first time he had participated, and he planned on beating his previous record.
As the next day dawned Robert began his preparations for the main event. Walder, to his surprise, was up and doing his best to prepare Robert's equipment, but the broken ribs were obviously keeping him from working effectively.
"Walder! What are you doing up and about? You're supposed to be recovering." Robert called out in a strong tone.
"I'm just doing my duty, my lord. It's a squire's purpose to ensure his lord is ready for battle." The boy replied, wincing as he aggravated his injuries.
"It's also your duty to do as you're told. Now get back in the tent and get some rest. Stannis will take care of it today." Robert replied sternly, shaking his head at just how determined the boy was. Robert hoped that the world wouldn't beat that idealism out of him too quickly.
Robert could feel his excitement growing as he donned his plate, mounted his horse, and rode along with all of the rest of the Stormlands knights to the tourney ground. As he entered the grounds, Robert quickly guided his mount to the stands where the Starks were seated.
"My lady Lyanna," He called out. "Might I have the honor of your favor as I go into battle today?"
"Well, it seemed to work for Walder." She said with a teasing smile. "I hope it brings you luck too." She held out an embroidered gray cloth for him which he accepted with a smile before returning to where his team was gathering.
The event was to be a traditional seven-sided melee. This form of the melee had its roots in pre-conquest Westeros and was made up of seven armies representing the kingdoms that existed before Aegon decided to drown Westeros in fire and blood. The teams originally represented the North, the Vale, the Kingdom of Isles and Rivers, the Westerlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, and Dorne. Of course, due to current political borders the traditional teams were adjusted. Due to the small number of Northern lords and knights participating, they were instructed to join with the Riverlands, while Crownlands formed their own team bringing the number back up to seven.
The aim was fairly simple. The kingdom that unhorsed or forced a yield from the most competitors would be crowned the victor, and the single knight with the most victories would be crowned the grand champion. He had claimed the title of grand champion in his last life, winning no small amount of acclaim in doing so. It was the Riverlands that had claimed overall victory previously, but he wasn't planning on letting that happen this time. This time he had a plan.
As he surveyed the circular field where all the kingdoms had gathered, he smiled. It was pretty much just as he remembered. To his immediate right, the Reach had brought the most knights with more than three score banners waving in the wind. He was surprised to see Mace Tyrell taking the field this time around, though it was a pleasant surprise as he had never had a chance to humiliate the man on the field before. Shifting his gaze around the circle, he saw that the North and Riverland's contingent numbered close to the reach. This was no surprise as the tourney was being held in the Riverlands and they were bolstered by the Northern lords. The Westerlands, the Vale, and the Crownlands all fielded around two score knights with Dorne numbering close to three dozen. Robert counted seven and twenty warriors of the Stormlands, the smallest group, but in his mind the most powerful. He knew each of them by name, even the hedge knights that had come to win glory and gold. He had made sure to seek each of them out before the event so he could know who he was riding with. Robert took in a deep breath, savoring the feel of being back in the saddle weapon in hand. Even if this wasn't a true battle, it was as close as he could get for some time. Smiling, he trotted out ahead of his team to address them.
"My lords and good sers! Men of the Stormlands, it is good to see you all here ready bring glory to your houses and our kingdom. What better way to do that than to take on the largest foe!" Robert paused as the assembled warriors let out a cheer. He pointed at where the men of the Reach had assembled and continued
"When the horn blows, we'll wheel right and charge straight into their flank as they move towards the center of the field. Everyone should pick a shield and make sure you share it with the men next to you. Don't get greedy, there are plenty to go around. But you should know that the flower is mine. Now, watch each other's backs and let's show the whole of the seven kingdoms the might of the Stormlands!" The gathered men let out another cheer as Robert dawned his great antlered helm and grasped his tourney lance in hand. It was an addition to his kit that he figured he could put to good use before switching to his trusty hammer.
Robert took his place in the formation with Ser Cortney to his right and Ser Rogers to his left.
"Good speech my Lord, you've got everyone right riled up. I'll be aiming for the Huntsman Since you have the flower." Ser Cortney chuckled.
"I think I'll take on that Fox, I didn't like the look of him at the feast." Ser Rogers said, pointing to who Robert thought must have been Axel Florent. Of all the men of that family he seemed to be one who least embodied their symbol.
Robert laughed, and shortly thereafter the starting horn blared.
"Wheel Right!" He bellowed in the same commanding voice he had used throughout the Rebellion. With impressive discipline, the men of the Stormlands followed his command as he watched Mace lead his force straight towards the center of the arena completely unaware of the tempest that was about to be unleashed.
"Charge!" with that word the gathered knights and lords spurred their steeds onwards. Robert watched as Lord Tarly tried to warn Mace of the oncoming charge. Robert howled in laughter as confusion filled the ranks of the Reach as some tried to turn and meet his charge while others kept moving forward.
Time seemed to slow as Robert leveled his lance at his target. He watched as Lord Tryell finally noticed him and tried to turn, moments later he watched the blunted tip of his lance strike straight on the Lord of the Reach's breast plate. There was a terrible crash as the lance shattered and Mace Tyrell was thrown from his mount, his first victory. Robert dared not linger on his success though, as he was now very much surrounded by potential foes. He dropped the remains of his broken lance and quickly pulled up his hammer in time to swing it at a bewildered knight in a black and white tabard who was too distracted by the sudden commotion to properly defend himself.
"Ride through! Ride through!" Robert roared over the deafening clash of the battle raging around him, hoping that the rest of the Stormlanders could hear him. The shock of the initial charge had worn off and they were in danger of being caught in the middle of the much larger group of enemy combatants. Fortunately for him, this was a melee where the men around him sought personal glory and were less inclined to attack all at once. Robert managed to unhorse two more combatants on his way out of the confused mass of man and beast, bringing his total to four. Eleven more and he would have outdone himself. Robert grinned at the thought.
Having finally made his way out of the Melee, he took a moment to survey the field and found himself more than satisfied with the result of his charge. The Riverlanders and Northmen were more than happy to capitalize on the confusion he had caused and fell upon the disorganized Reachers. Looking around he saw that the majority of the Stormlanders had followed him out of the initial charge, their team only losing two or three men in the initial engagement. He was happy to see that both Ser Cortnay and Ser Rogers were among that number. He knew both man and beast needed a few moments to recover, but he also knew that waiting too long would see their chance for victory slip from their grasp. After giving them a few more minutes to reform, he once again called out for the charge. The effect this time was even more devastating as the Stormlanders fell on the rear of the Reach's formation with them having been pinned down by the Riverlands.
Few at first could stand against his strength for more than a few strikes and he was able to quickly claim an additional six victories bringing his total to ten, but as the horn signaling the halfway mark of the melee blared and the number of combatants dwindled the caliber of foes increased. Robert soon found himself facing a knight of House Uller. The elusive dornishman was an excellent rider and was guiding his smaller mount expertly while parrying and dodging Robert's strikes. In Response, Robert simply began pushing in closer and closer, increasing the speed of his attacks. While this opened him up to counters, he made sure there was little room for them to do more than scratch the thickest parts of his armor. Eventually his opponent was forced to yield, and Robert took a moment to rest and survey the field.
It looked as if nearly half of his men had been forced from the field while there was only a small pocket of Reachers left. The Westerlands and Dorne had spent much of the time skirmishing with each other, and the Vale had engaged the Riverlands. It was impossible to tell who was truly in the lead, but he knew that he and his warriors had given a very impressive showing. He gave himself a few more moments of rest before diving back into the thick of the battle.
His twelfth and thirteenth victories were against a pair of knights hailing from the Westerlands. While they definitely were more skilled than the others he had defeated, he was a little disappointed that they hadn't lasted longer. After unhorsing them however, Robert heard a challenge being issued to him from across the field. It took him a few moments to find the source of the challenge and smiled as he saw the crimson and gold of house Lannister.
The Lannister knight was resplendent in his armor, obviously showing off the wealth of his house. Roaring golden lions adorned his pauldrons and greathelm, and his steel plate practically gleamed in the sunlight as he raised his lance in challenge. Robert thought it might be overly ostentatious, but then again, he had antlers affixed to his helm so who was he to talk. Regardless, Robert raised his hammer in answer, and spurred his mount towards the challenger.
Robert knew that since his opponent was wielding a lance, he would be at a distinct disadvantage in the initial exchange. Robert braced himself for a brutal impact and hoped that he would be able to weather it and still make an attack of his own. They galloped closer and closer and in one terrible moment Robert felt the impact of the lance on his right shoulder. The Lannister's aim was impeccable, and he was nearly unhorsed right then. With the pain shooting down his arm, Robert was unable to get in a shot of his own as his opponent rode past his striking range. The fight was far from over however, and Robert couldn't help but let out an excited yell as he brought his horse around to face his challenger once more. This was why he loved fighting. The thrill. The challenge. He would be damned if that cocky lion got the best of him.
Robert tested his arm to make sure he had proper feeling in it as he watched the Lannister draw his sword and charge at him again. Once he was confident, he could move his arm properly, he spurred his mount to meet the charge. The lion was quick to be sure, quicker than he was, Robert had to admit. But Robert had gotten used to those who relied on speed to win the day. After a dozen or so exchanges Robert saw that an opening and landed a clean hit against his foe throwing the man from the saddle. Robert let out a victorious shout fueled by the raw emotion one could only ever feel in a fight like this.
Robert once again took a moment to recover from the string of matches he had just concluded. His shoulder was aching, and he was sure he would have a deep bruise there for some time. He watched proudly and smiled as four of his knights formed up against what was left of the Reach and charged. Robert knew that he still needed one more victory to surpass his previous self, and began riding towards where the fight was thickest.
In the end, Robert found himself once again smiling as he saw his fifteenth challenger Bronze Yohn Royce approach and issue a challenge. The Lord of Runestone was a formidable and experienced warrior. Robert had gotten to know the man fairly well during his time in the vale, and always enjoyed the times when Yohn would join him in the sparring ring.
"Lord Royce, I had hoped to find you on the field today." Robert called out as he saluted, thus accepting the Lord of Runestone's challenge.
"Yes, I see you have been busy Robert, four and ten victories today or so my squire tells me. Forgive me if I don't plan on being fifteenth." He called out in response.
"Well, I aim to be champion today, so I'll have to ruin your plans." With that Robert spurred his horse forward.
The clash of the warriors rang out across the tourney grounds as the two engaged in combat. Robert found himself putting more strength into his strikes than he would have normally, but the bronze armor withstood the blows far more than they should have. Clash after clash the two knights fought trying to find an advantage over the other. But it was clear that over time it would be Yohn's strength that would fail first. The fight ended when with a powerful blow Robert knocked the mace from Yohn's hand and forced the older Lord to yield. Not long after, the final horn signaled the end of the grand melee.
When all was said and done, and the ransoms taken, Robert was once again crowned grand champion. Though he was happy at his achievement he was still disappointed by the overall results of the melee. The Riverlands once again took the victory with his knights falling short by only two ransoms. It seemed as if his maneuver had given the Riverlands the opening they needed to secure their own win. Of course, he would have to sort out his own ransoms. For the most part he planned to just gift back the armor of the knights and lords as he had no need for extra coin. Though when it came to collect the ransom from the Lannister knight, he couldn't help but claim some sort of prize.
"My Lord Baratheon, I believe I owe you something for my loss. Let it not be said that this Lannister failed to pay his debt." Robert barely managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the reference to the unofficial words.
"And which Lannister would you be? There are so many of you running around these days."
"Ah, forgive me, I am Ser Gerion Lannister, son of Tytos." Gerion replied. Robert wondered if that damn cocky smirk was passed down from father to son.
"Right, Tywin's younger brother. Well, I think we can forget the ransom as a show of good faith. Though I think that helm of yours would look good as a trophy on the wall of my solar. It would be a good reminder of when the lion was laid low by the stag."
There was a moment of hesitation and the grin slipped for just a moment before Ser Gerion handed over his helm. Robert knew he was being petty, but his built-up frustration with his former wife's house won out over good sense.
He would have a whole day to rest after this event. Tomorrow would be the first day of jousts where the hedge and sworn knights would compete with each other to move forward in the tourney. If he remembered correctly, it was the day that the mysterious Knight of the Laughing Tree would show up. In his last life he had sworn to unmask the man, now he just wanted to focus on winning the joust and crowning Lyanna as his queen of love and beauty.
A/N So I have decided to never again state that the next chapter will be coming out soon. As many other authors on this site have said in the past real life really loves to get in the way. By the time I was ready to sit down and write it all out, I didn't really like what I originally had. There is just a lot to cover here in Harrenhal. I read what GRRM said in regards to the grand melee and he mentioned that he could probably write a whole book on the 10 days of the tourney alone. Anyway, next up will be the drama of the laughing knight. I hope I do it justice.