Sansa

Dinners in Winterfell often annoyed her with her annoying brothers and Aryas antics. All they would talk about was boring things like the training yard or a hunt. No sweet songs graced their halls. Food would fly ruining her dress or Arya would kick her in the shins underneath the table. Dinners were uncivilized affairs. Once Arya had laughed so hard that milk came out of her nose. It was disgusting and unladylike. Now, the memory was a sweet one. Sansa would trade anything for that. Anything would be better than this dinner. All one could hear was the scraping of forks against the white plates, otherwise it was as silent as the crypts of Winterfell.

Cousin Jasper gazed at the steak on his plate as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Not a word had been spoken since he sat down. Arya's eyes spoke volumes. Sansa thought. Her sister was glaring daggers the entire dinner. She stabbed the meat with a fury. Jon was so quiet that Sansa wondered if he was even with them.

If only father wasn't called away by duty.

An uncomfortable silence held over them.

Sansa could bear it no longer. Anything would be better than the silence!

"Cousin," she said, dabbing her chin with a napkin. "I'm curious. Will you compete in just the joust? Or shall you take part in the melee as well?"

Jasper raised his head and swallowed the steak in a gulp. For a moment, he paused awkwardly. "Well-"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER! JON IS GOING TO BEAT YOU AT THEM ALL! JUST LIKE HE DID AT WINTERFELL!" Arya said.

"ARYA!" Sansa said, mortified.

"How sweet cousin and to think I was going to ask for your favor. I'm wounded." Jasper said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Don't worry when I win; I'll consider crowning you." He promised, placing his hand over his heart.

"Watch your tongue." Jon said.

Jasper scoffed. "I shall speak as I wish. You best mind your manners, Snow."

"Don't insult my sister."

"I wasn't insulting my cousin." Jasper said. "And it's don't insult my half-sister you misspoke." He reminded curtly.

A chair slid back and then another. Both Jasper and Jon stood tall with tension that could cut. Nymeria and Ghost were wroth. Lady tried in vain to keep them calm, but both Ghost and Nymeria rose, showing teeth. The servants scattered like leaves into the wind, quiet and afraid while the direwolves joined Jon's side, snarling. If Jasper was afraid, he didn't show it. Maybe silence was better. Sansa thought a bit too late.

Everything was spiraling out of control and she couldn't find her voice as Arya was throwing kindling on the fire.

"Get him Jon! Beat him bloody!"

"You wish to say something, Snow than say it." Jasper said, stepping forward, undaunted and unafraid of wolves, nor Jon.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Then take a seat." Jasper said, with a hint of command that rankled.

Jons gray eyes narrowed. "No," He said with cold defiance. "You are not my lord father and this is not your home."

Cousin Jasper flinched. She could see the hurt in his blue eyes before they burned in anger and when his lips moved, Sansa feared some barb would pass. I know a barb will pass. "STOP IT! STOP IT! YOUR BOTH RUINING EVERYTHING!" she screamed. Both paused as she squeezed in between the two of them. Jasper broad shouldered and strong, while Jon was tall and slender with father's eyes. The two of them were complete idiots. "What were you to duel with steak knives? How would you explain that to father?" She chided.

Her cousin had the grace to have a hint of shame, and Jon bristled as well.

"Well?" Sansa asked.

Jon wore a cloak of silence with his arms crossed defensively.

"I think it's time for me to depart. You'll enjoy the dinner more in my absence." Jasper said, sighing. She saw the tension leave his shoulders and the pit in her stomach eased. Her heart had been bashing in her chest at the display. She was fearful it would end with blood being spilled. Father had enough on his plate than to deal with a squabble amongst them. "Farewell, cousins." He nodded politely before his eyes locked on Jons. "See you on the field, Snow. May you have good fortune." He sounded almost cordial.

"You need not go, cousin. Stay for dessert." Sansa offered, hoping to smooth over any ill feelings.

"Tis kind of you, but it's for the best cousin. Have a fair evening."

Another quick nod and Jasper left without another word.

Arya smirked, pleased by everything. "Good riddance." She mumbled when he was out of earshot.

"Arya…" she voiced with disapproval.

"What?" Arya asked. "He's not a part of the pack. A dumb falcon is what he is that got what he had coming." She remained angry with him and time, nor distance, had cooled that. Jon was always her favorite, and Cousin Jasper had mistreated him. She would always side with their brother over anyone save mayhaps father. "Sansa, don't defend him! Have you learned nothing?" Arya reminded her, once more twisting the rusty dagger into her heart. How many times would they hold it against her? Until she was old and gray and as wrinkled as Old Nan.

Jon said nothing in tacit agreement.

"He is our cousin Arya." Sansa said, annoyed. "And what shall father say when he hears of this? He is ever burdened by King Robert, and now he shall be troubled with a childish squabble."

Arya had a flash of guilt. "Oh." She said. "It's still his fault." Crossing her arms, convinced in her convictions. "May the Mountain that Rides take him!"

She crossed the line. Sansa thought. "Enough!" She declared as a Daughter of Winterfell standing up straight and dignified like her lady mother. "Take my sister to her room, where she may dwell on her words and deeds." She gestured to the servants, whom nodded dutifully.

"But-"

"I'm your elder sister and you shall do as I say." Sansa commanded. I won't be guilted away. As Myrcella would say, it was her duty as a sister and Arya's actions had gone beyond the pale.

Arya scowled and looked at Jon, who nodded. "Listen to our sister." He said.

Sansa could hear the grumbling down the halls as Nymeria followed, sulking. Sansa twisted her gaze to Jon. He chuckled. "Should I suspect a chastisement, sweet sister?"

She knew something had been bothering him for weeks, but he refused to open up to her. Jon preferred to handle things on his own, and she didn't feel comfortable in pressing him. I wasn't the best sister in Winterfell. Unlike Arya. They had given a second chance to her and she wouldn't squander it. "I don't have authority over you, Jon."

"Trueborn daughters can command bastard brothers." Jon said.

The tone bothered her. "You have our blood Jon." Sansa whispered. "I name you my brother proudly. Here or in court." She reached out for his hands. "You are as honorable as father, as brave as Robb. I'm happy to know you. Don't dismiss your qualities so easily. All of us know your worth." If Robb wouldn't provide a place in the North for him, she would make sure her husband would find it. If he wished for a white cloak, he would get it. Lands or titles in the Crownlands. Myrcella said Crown Prince Tommen was a sweet boy. He seemed nice. Sansa recalled. She doubted he would refuse her if she asked.

Jon said nothing, brooding in silence before he squeezed her hands. "Thank you, sister." Jon smiled. A rare thing. "That's kind of you."

She sighed, feeling braver. Lady always makes me feel brave. "I only wish you would tell me what ails you. You lied about how you cracked your ribs-"

Sansa faltered as Jon released her hands. Cold grey pits glared back. "Is nothing." He finished for her. "I think I shall go to my room. I'm in little mood for lemon cakes."

He kissed her on the brow. "Come Ghost." He turned down the hall, leaving her with nothing but plates of lemon cakes and regret.

I should have told him he could come to me. If only I was brave, like Robb.

For the next couples of days she thought of the dinner and her family. Sansa never really considered her siblings before. Her head was always in the clouds with knights and handsome princes. Foolish girl. She was never cruel to any of them, but of her siblings, she was always the odd one out. Now, as she thought of family, Sansa wished she paid more attention to them. They would listen to her more easily. The quarrel between Jon and Cousin Jasper was dangerous. It could fester into something dangerous. Myrcella speaks of how such wounds can tear families apart. Father came by that night tired and weary with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Dark shadows crept underneath his eyes and she downplayed the dinner. I won't let father worry over this. The thoughts consumed her and her hands slipped as she wielded the needle. "Ouch!" Sansa said as she pricked her finger, drawing a drop of blood.

The giggling of the ladies ended. Lady Rosamund and Jeyne Poole looked worried. Princess Myrcella was the first to her side. "Are you okay Sansa?" She asked kindly.

"I'm fine Myrcella. It's just a drop of blood." It still felt awkward speaking of her informally, but she was getting better at it.

"Not that silly." Princess Myrcella said. "You never miss your stitches."

"My thoughts are just elsewhere."

Princess Myrcella nodded with sympathy.

"Oh, I daydream about the Tourney, too! Lord Beric is so handsome!" Jeyne prattled like a foolish girl. An envious dragon crawled beneath her skin. Once she had been that blissful with her head in the clouds. It was an unworthy feeling for a Stark of Winterfell.

Sansa shared a look with Princess Myrcella. After they leave, I'll share. Jeyne and Rosamund were pleasant companions, but this was a sensitive conversation. Jeyne would gossip and half the Red Keep would know by morning. Sansa didn't know Rosamund that well and didn't trust her with this. After they finished talking of the tourney and stuffing themselves with sweets and tea, they exchanged farewells, and the door shut behind them.

"So." Her blond brows raised playfully. "Tell me what troubles you! It's been absolutely dreadful waiting all day to ask!"

"Apologies princess." She reddened.

"Don't be so formal Sansa." Princess Myrcella chided. "No one is around. We can get the cyvasse board and play a round!" She said, eyeing the board in the distance. "I've a move. I've been dying to show you. It'll help your game, I'm sure of it!" She babbled, with bright eyes that rarely dimmed. Cyvasse was such a dreadful game it bored her to tears. How the pieces moved and where to put them? It made her head hurt. Princess Myrcella loved the game and so she played. Myrcella sews, and she hates it.

Sansa frowned. "It's about my siblings and Cousin Jasper."

"My betrothed?" Myrcella asked calming.

Sansa told her of the conflict and the simmering tension between him and the rest of House Stark. "Do you think we could sway my cousin to apologize for it?" She asked. Sansa knew that if he could just apologize that Jon would accept and they could sweep it under the rug.

Princess Myrcella sighed. "I would have to speak with my betrothed first." She mumbled. "I speak with a shadow of a boy." She couldn't help but feel puzzled. Sansa felt terribly slow.

"He never tells me anything of note. "Princess Myrcella said gently. "Just compliments or some japes, and not a single soul in the city seems to know anything about him. Save that he's an excellent hunter and a lord of martial prowess. I've tried to hint otherwise that I want more, but he ignores me."

"Maybe he's just oblivious." Sansa offered.

"If only. I could work with oblivious. It's deliberate."

Sansa did not think Jasper the type to deliberately ignore the princess. "But he came all this way on your behalf!" She said dreamily. It was such a romantic tale that he traveled so far just to crown her the Queen of Love and Beauty. One day, mayhaps her prince would do the same.

"I suppose he did." She admitted and smiled.

"Be blunt with him, then." Sansa said. "You've always told me a princess should show some courage."

Princess Myrcella chuckled. "Mayhaps you're right. My delicate approach has failed completely!" She giggled.

"Only a tad." She replied and laughed.

"I promise though." Princess Myrcella swore. "On my honor as a princess that I shall see this gulf between Stark and Arryn bridged!"

Myrcella

"Ah, this one is perfect!" Jasper declared, snatching the white rose from the bush. "It matches you perfectly." He offered to her with a smile.

She wanted to roll her eyes. "My lord, this is the fifth time you've uttered those words." Myrcella carried five roses with her. It was charming the first time, but now it was growing repetitive.

"And it was true every time!" Jasper winked. "Not my fault you are a talented gardener." He intertwined his arm with her own, leading her down the trails with a couple of household guards well behind them. "When you are in the Eyrie, you'll be able to plant a garden to your hearts content. A pity about this one, though. It'll whither away." A blushed creeped down her fair skin at the compliment.

"I won't have much left with you plundering my rose bushes."

Jasper paused stiffly, uncertain on how to reply before settling on his default lordly nod.

Myrcella nearly sighed as they roamed the garden. Sweet smells surrounded them and a gentle breeze from the sea kissed the skin. Myrcella had chosen a beautiful blue dress with shorter sleeves. She hoped he enjoyed seeing the colors of House Arryn. I doubt he cares. Myrcella thought sullenly. At least this wasn't as terrible as the orphanage. He insisted she take the litter while he rode on a horse. A brown beast name Honor. In the gardens, Jasper conversed with her.

"Would you tend the garden with me in the Eyrie?" Myrcella asked with some hope.

"That would be unlordly, princess." He said with stiff formality. "Though if some fiendish rabbit burrows his way in, I'll hunt him down." He pledged.

"Must you kill the rabbit?"

Jasper grimaced. "Fine." He muttered, "I'll pardon the rabbit, but we won't keep him. Cousin Bran's wolf is fond of rabbit. I rather not lose an arm against a wolf."

She giggled at the silliness of the conversation. "Well, I'm sure you would be beloved amongst the rabbits of the Vale." She teased. This was the most she had gone out of him since he arrived, and it was scant. "My noble protector of the garden."

Jasper's chest puffed up a bit as a genuine smile crossed his face. It wasn't as flashy as the other ones, but it was honest. "And rabbits." He japed. "Hmm." Jasper said, hand on his chin as if deep in thought. "Lord Jasper Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie Warden of the East and Protector of Rabbits of the Garden! Villains will shake when they hear me approach! My House words; As High as the Burrow! A flying white rabbit, my sigil!"

Laughter overwhelmed her body in painful gasps as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. The smell of the yard was still on him and his face was very handsome when he laughed without abandon.

He leaned in and Myrcella wondered if he would kiss her. "Rabbits can actually jump up to three feet in the air and they are social creatures and grow deeply lonely without a friend!" Jasper blurted out. "And carrots are only as a snack and aren't actually their diet." Before she could utter a word of delight at getting him to open up, a slight look of mortification formed on his face. "Ha! Ha!" Jasper said haughtily. "The queer things maesters make us learn. "A flippant wave of his hand. "I don't need to know that to hunt them. You shall have as many pelts as you wish, princess. I do so swear." In a single smooth movement, he kissed the back of her hand with perfect courtesy. Myrcella's heart dropped in dismay, knowing what this meant.

"This walk may prove the highlight of my day." Jasper said. "Unfortunately, I got to keep practicing in the yard."

"Could you stay longer?"

"Nay princess. If I'm going to crown you, I must sharpen my skills. I'm facing the best of the realm! Men of the Kingsguard! Even that prancing Knight of Flowers." Jasper deflected with a lords courtesy.

Myrcella knew it was a deflection. The moment she was getting anywhere, and he was leaving. It was clear as day even the court jester could see it. Maybe not Moonboy? But it didn't take a Lannister to see. Myrcella thought. Why does he treat me this way? She wondered, Is there another woman? Someone who holds his heart in the Vale. The thought made her think unkind thoughts. Love was to be her shield to protect her, and some woman could deprive her of it. Speculations, is useless. I'll find out the truth, eventually.

Jasper was a terrible liar. She need only trap him like one of his rabbits.

"Do I hold your favor, princess?"

She wished to refuse him, but she nodded anyway.

Jasper offered a polite bow before all but flying away with a brisk walk.

In one week, the tourney would begin and Myrcella didn't know how long Jasper would stay after that. She didn't even understand his reason for being in the capital, but it was duty not heart throb of a love-struck boy. Even if she would honor her pledge and maintain the deceit.

If only

Myrcella was busy practicing her stitches when one of mothers handmaidens summoned her. "Her Grace requires your presence, princess." She told her. Unease filled her chest with a painful throb. It was abrupt. She wasn't supposed to meet with mother at this hour. Trepidation filled her with every step weighing as heavy as stone. Did she learn of her treachery? The letter to grandfather? Or what happened on the Trident with Joffrey? No she couldn't possibly know. Myrcella needed to believe that or she would suffer the faith of traitors. An icy hand wrapped around her throat as vile as the Stranger. A chill ran down the back of her spine.

Be brave. A princess must be brave.

Mother greeted with an embrace. "My sweet cub." Fingers pressed painfully into her shoulders.

"Mother." She whimpered.

"You've lied to me." No, no, no Myrcella despaired. She can't know anything.

"I'm a loyal daughter. Loyal to you. Loyal to my family." Myrcella said.

Mother nodded in approval. "That you are my sweet girl." She refused to show any relief. Be the submissive daughter. No apology left mother's lips. "A Lannister never apologies." She would tell her. The Seven Hells would freeze before mother apologized for anything. "Albeit, you are spending much time with the Arryn boy."

"Only to benefit my family." Myrcella said.

"I don't believe you." Mother's eyes simmered like dancing flames. Wild. All-consuming, like the wildfire of the Targaryens. She had seen better days, Myrcella thought. Her golden hair had lost some of its luster and with her eyes she looked half crazed. Mother stroked her blond curls. "You always had such pretty hair, daughter of mine."

"Thank you, mother."

"Sweet naïve Myrcella." Mother sang, chilling her to the bone. "Unaware of mans bloody nature. Oblivious to the cruel reality of the world. You'll spend no more time with him. Lord Arryn is not us and shall only hurt you." It was a command, and not a request. Defiance would be unwise, and yet Myrcella knew she had to thread the needle.

"But he is my betrothed. How can I possibly do anything?" Myrcella made her voice more girlish. High and sweet as any song.

Mother smiled. "You'll be spending your days with me, my little cub." She said. "I see I've erred with my hands off approach with you. It's time I taught you everything." An involuntary shiver ran through her at the thought and, like a lioness, mother noted and frowned. Be brave. Be brave for Tommen. For yourself.

"You disapprove?"

Myrcella was quick to shake her head. "I would love to spend my days in your company." She lied. "But I cannot so easily ignore Lord Jasper. It would offend him. After the tourney he'll leave and I can lessen my letters." Every word from her mouth was reasonable and contrite. It hardly mattered. Being perfect didn't matter.

The blow struck, and tears flowed. It would leave a terrible bruise.

"Joffrey would never have defied me so." Mother seethed, eyes burning.

Always Joffrey. It's always Joffrey. Myrcella raged. She wanted to roar! To lash out. I wish father killed him while you watched as the life left his pathetic wormy eyes. Myrcella so desperately wanted to hurt her, but she held her tongue. No wicked thought would roll off. She's still my mother.

"My little lion is halfway across the world because of you. His birthright denied because of words from your lips." Mother sighed. "He would have protected you from Lord Arryn." She shivered underneath her hand and word. The wrong word would set her off.

"I'm a silly girl. Very silly and foolish."

"Look at what you make me do." Mother said, frowning, "My poor cub. I was only trying to help you." Her honest smile terrified her. "I suppose you'll just have to learn heartbreak like I did. You'll come back to me soon enough." It was a promise. As certain as if it were set in stone. It chilled her. How? Myrcella wondered. Ser Kevan had taken over everything. Nothing would get by him. He was grandfathers second hand. "The Shadow of the Lion." Men whispered of him and no one would be stupid enough to defy the word of Tywin Lannister, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms. Mother was powerless. Caged. Trapped. Yet, she was still certain. Why?

"You can leave, my sweet girl."

Myrcella didn't budge.

Mother raised a brow in puzzlement.

"I can't leave mother." Myrcella said. "Grand Uncle Kevan would know." She pointed at her reddened cheek. "I need to hide such mother before I leave."

"Yes." Mother said sharply. "I knew that." She held her hand and for a moment treated her like a daughter applying the powder and paste. Myrcella imagined she was preparing for her wedding day dance with Lord Jasper while her mother attended her giggling and laughing at what was to come. The dream was sweet as strawberries. Instead, she winced when mother pressed too roughly against her cheek.

"I've disappointed you, mother." She said, eyes lowered.

"Why would you think that, Myrcella?"

"Lord Arryn…"

"You shouldn't worry about him for much longer."

"But father won't set aside such a match. Why would I not have to worry?"

Mother only smiled, knowing something terrible. "Done. Go off now. Kiss me on the cheek before you go."

Myrcella did as bid. She was a princess of the realm.

Grand Uncle Kevan sent some red cloaks for her later that evening, as she suspected. He doesn't trust her. Even a caged lion could be dangerous and Ser Kevan was always thorough in keeping his eye on mother. A daughter would be suspect to carrying secrets or messages. The men bowed and escorted herself to Ser Kevans quarters where Lord Tywin would stay on the rare day he arrived in the capital. A message for any the master he served. When the door opened for her, she found him with his son Lancel Lannister laughing. Blond-haired and beautiful Lancel seemed to smile more since his fathers arrival.

"Princess." Lancel dipped his head before looking back at his father.

"Go on, boy." Ser Kevan dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I need to speak with my grandniece." Stout and broad shouldered Ser Kevan looked every bit a lord, save for his balding scalp a full lion of the Rock. Even without his golden hair. He offered her a kind smile. "Take a seat, princess."

She curtseyed. "As you wish, my lord."

"You saw your mother today."

Myrcella nodded and was honest about everything discussed. Mother had to remain declawed for their own good. She was a threat to Tommen and his reign. Almost everything. She left out the part about being struck. Despite her cruelty, she didn't wish mother to be punished for a small thing like that. Ser Kevan let her speak and asked questions sparingly, but they were always sharp. He listens well. Biting underneath her lip. "Do you think she is capable of such a plot?"

"I wouldn't worry about it." Ser Kevan said. "I've seen no evidence of anyone willing to support her. My niece is delusional, I fear." He sighed. "Maybe in time you shall make her see reason. Children often help mothers understand."

She almost laughed. Mother won't stop until he returned Joffrey to her. Myrcella knew. She would burn the world to ash to see him returned, but as long as Ser Kevan remained in the city, it couldn't happen. Still, tomorrow, it was a sweet dream to imagine. "I'll pray for such." She said. "Oh, it's Janei's name day tomorrow, is it not? I'm sorry you couldn't be with your family."

Ser Kevan seemed touched as he stood up. "That's thoughtful of you to say, but it's my duty and honor to serve House Lannister. My family understands."

"Well, at least you are with your son." Myrcella said. "He smiles more."

Ser Kevan's lips twirled up. "Worry over nothing. Enjoy the tourney and spend as much time with your betrothed as you can. He would be a fool not to love you." Her heart fluttered, hoping she could do it. "Remember, the more he loves you, the more influence you shall hold over him." He said the harsh words with a soft, patient touch. "Your grandfather expects much of you, princess. You and your brother are the legacy of House Lannister."

"I'll do my duty to my brother, our future king." Myrcella vowed.

He sent her away with a curt nod and a small, warm smile. Myrcella forced herself to believe that everything was fine. Mother is simply crazed. Doubt gnawed at her as the confident smile tore at her. What are you planning, mother? The thoughts still swirled in her mind a day later as she studied the board. A field of terrible battle as dragons burned knights and pikemen tore through men of arms. Jasper was playing with her, but he seemed elsewhere, as always, off in his own world. Uncle Tyrion always said you could learn a lot about a person with how they played the game. He claimed that he only knew the game in passing. It seemed a lie, though. Jasper understood the board very well. Myrcella watched how her betrothed play. He was very aggressive with his pieces, willing to sacrifice his most valuable pieces to get the slightest advantage. The match was grinding to a standstill, but Myrcella knew she would likely eek out a win.

I can't let him lose. He'll grow annoyed.

Myrcella played sloppy, but after some initial success, he was getting absolutely dreadful when she looked up. Jasper was clenching his jaw, and he was fuming. "Do you think me stupid?!" He snapped.

"My-"

"I know when someone throws a match! Don't deny it!" His voice was furious and burning. "Have I disgraced myself so that you would think I can't handle a loss? I know defeat well. Why did you do it?" He commanded with a haughty voice.

Everything was spinning out of control and she could feel the hot tears growing. It's not supposed to go this way.

"My lord I was-" She whispered.

"Speak up!" His voice cracked like a whip, and she flinched from his tone.

Instantly, Jasper looked away with shame, his anger leaving him. "I require air." He said coolly. "Excuse me." When he departed, she was glad, for she would have cried otherwise. Everything was ruined, and she hated him for it. A long moment had passed, and he still hadn't returned. She saw him standing on the balcony, brooding. Good. Myrcella thought. He can stay out all night! She sighed, banishing the notion. She still had to make him love her.

Myrcella gave him another moment alone before she joined him in the warm air that kissed the skin. He moved further away from her, keeping his distance.

"You should come back inside, my lord."

"I'm sorry." Jasper said, refusing to glance her way. "My behavior was inexcusable. You have every right to hate me. I understand my actions have consequences and I accept mine." He sighed loud and deep. "I just don't understand why you did it. Did I do something wrong I-" His voice was beyond lost as Jasper rubbed his pant legs. Are you nervous? Myrcella wondered. "I'm stupid, I did something wrong and I don't even know what it is."

"It was ill done." She admitted. "I think I can forgive you, though."

Jasper scoffed. "You shouldn't." He whispered. "I did not behave as High as Honor. I was a hot-headed fool. You should judge me harshly. I would judge me harshly." She judged him, but not that badly. One outburst wasn't the end of the world, even if it felt like it.

"Only a misstep. Nothing more."

He finally twisted around. Jasper looked miserable, and it was no act. Myrcella had seen him lie, and it was a sad thing.

The apology was genuine. Myrcella almost beamed. He cares enough to apologize.

"I erred too, my lord. I should haven't thrown the game, but I didn't wish to upset you."

"Oh." Jasper shifted uncomfortably. "You didn't have to do that."

She bridged the gap between them. Sansa told her to be blunt, and she thought this was a perfect time. She read him like an open book. He was vulnerable and open. The lordly facade had vanished up in smoke. Destroyed by guilt and shame. Be bold. Be brave.

"How would I know, my lord? You give little away of yourself save flowery words and easy courtesy. I know not the man I'm to wed."

Jasper's shoulders slouched, and Myrcella knew she had him beat. "I guess not, but that was my intent." He said. "My reasons are my own and I shall not explain them, but I'll give you something of myself if you wish, though I think it unwise." She almost squealed with glee at the breakthrough. I should get him upset more often. It was wicked and unkind, but mayhaps it would get her what she sought.

"Why do you think it unwise?"

"I lied about not playing Cyvasse." Jasper shifted the conversation clumsily. "Though I didn't play with anyone." He mumbled. "I had no one to play with."

"Sounds lonely."

Jasper snorted. "It's what my father wished and I'm ever a dutiful son." His tone withdrawn and bitter

It thrilled Myrcella with the progress they were making. Though Jasper's words made little sense. "That hardly sounds like Jon Arryn, my lord. He was ever kind."

"Oh, yes. My father, the honorable Lord of the Eyrie." Jasper said. "Men always claimed him kind, and just. I saw none of that. Those letters I sent you were warm compared to the ones I received." He paused, swallowing something. "Father denied me a fostering. He denied me playmates and make no mistake, he hated me and I find I hate him as well." He gripped the railing, his knuckles turning white as snow. "If I didn't fight for my rights, I never would have squired with my granduncle. I would have wasted away a pampered boy. A weakling of summer." It stunned Myrcella, hearing the venom in his voice. Jasper wore a cloak of bitterness and the subject of his hatred? His own father, Lord Jon Arryn. She would have imagined them to be close.

"You always speak well of him." Myrcella said.

"As High as honor." Jasper answered. "I will not shame him in death as he did me in life. Even in my own thoughts, I try to recall him kindly, but he was not kind to me. I shall never forgive him." He vowed with steel.

Myrcella paused, uncertain of what to say.

Jasper, embarrassed by the silence, rubbed his pant legs. "I'm not good at any of this. I beg your pardon." He was round up tight as a bow. Jaspers terribly high-strung. Myrcella thought.

"No, no." Myrcella said, leaning into him. "I want to know more about you. I'm very pleased." She kissed him chastely on the cheek.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place. "Do I have your favor, princess?" He asked.

"Always my lord." She answered, pleased to finally discover some answers from him. Jasper didn't love her yet, but one day she was confident he would. They would be happy one day she dared to dream.

Jasper

Blond hair and green eyes haunted him in dreams and in hallways of the Red Keep. Nothing bothered him more than this growing warmth in his chest. It was infuriating how weak he felt. A stupid boy about to hurt himself yet again. Jasper took his frustrations out on his knights and the Vale Lords in a contest of swords. A contest that he won more than he lost. Never since Harry humiliated him as a boy had he fought with this dedication. Sweat dripped down his brow, burning his eyes and his muscles ached with every movement, but Jasper gave his foe everything he had. Donnel Waynwood was a valiant knight and Jasper was proud to test his mettle with him, but he swung to win and forget this softness, not practice chivalry of the Vale. A flurry of savage blows had him on his back foot as he lost himself in the fight.

I'm no skilled swordsman, but it was relaxing

Jasper slashed and almost struck home with a heavy hit to Ser Donnels chest, but he parried it to the side. The fight had him fatigued and on his last leg.

You can still win. A little more effort.

He pierced his way through Ser Donnel guard and swung with all his might he could taste the victory on his lips. Then he saw her in the distance by the banner of House Arryn, as beautiful as the Maiden herself. Watching with those accursed green eyes and his stomach twisted itself into knots. Jasper hesitated and was punished for the lapse in judgement with a blow to his legs, sending him to the ground groaning. Princess Myrcella still cheered for him.

Of course she does. Jasper winced. Even in defeat, he felt as if he won.

"Do you yield, my lord?"

"Aye ser." He said. "Well fought."

Ser Donnel helped him up. "You almost had me, Lord Arryn, at the end."

"Almost doesn't count Ser Donnel." Jasper chuckled. "The day is yours and I'm done for the day." He saluted to the princess with his sword that was heavy as stone, like a gallant knight, before following Ser Donnel back to the encampment of Valeman.

They joined the rest of the company of Valeman. The banners of Royce Waynwood, Redfort, flew in the wind underneath the flying falcon of Arryn. All of them bore marks of training for the melee and joust. Scrapes and bruises. Some of them he afflicted. They gathered around him, praising him for the practice spars in both joust and sword. The Royces the loudest among them. He waved them all away.

"You are men of the Vale. No men are as gallant and true." Jasper said. "And do you know these Reachmen think they are better than us? We the Knights of the Vale?"

Robar Royce snorted. "Prissy flowers. One Valeman is worth ten men of the Reach!"

"Ten? You mean twenty and I'm being kind," Jasper japed.

Jokes and japes flowed between him and the sons of the Vale, but it grew draining. Draining to keep up the facade they desperately needed to see. Today was the last day of training and the next three days he would rest. Almost, Jasper thought. He still watched over King Robert like a hawk. Lord Baelish had kept him appraised of Tyrell movements throughout the city. The Tyrells clung to His Grace like a flock of crows pecking at his flesh. Demanding. Ambitious beyond respectability and measure. Lord Renly, the kings own brother, advocated for them. It's sickening. He's more a rose than a Stag. They deserved the faith House Lannister would afflict upon them. If they were wise, they would turn back before it's too late.

Please turn back. Don't cross this road. The boy of summer wanted to warn them.

Mercy would be a mistake. It normally is. For the good of the Vale and House Arryn, he could be merciful to dishonor, but he saw no benefit here.

The honorable realm of his father could endure, but Jasper wouldn't lift a finger to stop its collapse. House Arryn benefits from the conflict. Our position with the Starks would be stronger and Prince Tommen's reign would be secured. As High as Honor!

They introduced a man named Ser Hugh to him. Ser Hugh had rough-hewn features and Jasper liked little the ease at which he approached him. "I haven't had the pleasure of your acquaintance, ser."

"Tis shocking Lord Arryn. I was your fathers squire. Surely he mentioned such?" Father mentioned nothing of him. Why did father take such a man to squire? He didn't even have a name he recognized. Ser Hugh was no son of a great lord. What friendships or alliances could squiring this man possibly have wrought? How could this man possibly help to maintain Arryn honor?

"I don't recall seeing you when my father's household returned ser."

"I remained in the capital. King Robert knighted me himself." Ser Hugh's chest rose with pride.

Jasper hardened. "House Arryn required your service, and you ignored the call. You had a duty to return to the Eyrie."

Ser Hugh bristled. "I served your father leally."

"You did not lift your sword to protect his widowed wife." Jasper said harsh, with judgement.

"Two hundred men served her."

"And yours was not one of them."

Ser Hugh sputtered, reddening. "Let me make amends."

"No." He said. "I wish you good fortune as a knight in this competition. May the Warrior himself guide you." Jasper dismissed him with a wave of his hands. Ser Hugh stood in disbelief at his judgement and icy courtesy. Though even a newly made knight understood, his judgement was final and dipped his head. Mayhaps, I was too harsh. Did father see something in him? Something about Arryn honor he didn't understand.

Lord Yohn was sitting with his sons, dignified and respectable. He was the Highest Vale Lord in the capital. Jasper informed him he was retiring for the evening. He thanked him for the spars in the yard. Jasper had bested his sons, but Lord Yohn was still by far his better.

Later that night, he penned a letter to his granduncle. I wish he were in the capital with me. Jasper thought. He wondered what he would say about his choice with the Tyrells or his conduct with the princess. Probably not, Jasper thought. But he would help him all the same. Once Jasper hoped Lord Stark could fill that role, but he only felt shame when he saw him.

My pretty reasons matter not. Jasper knew. It didn't matter that House Stark would benefit as well. It didn't matter that he was protecting his cousins as well. Even that bastard Snow would benefit.

A betrayal was a betrayal.

Lord Stark would judge him for his silence and Jasper deserved nothing less.

Jasper curled underneath a blanket as he read about King Jaehaerys the Conciliator by Grand Maester Tybolt by the candlelight. The parts with his queen were his favorite. If I sleep, I'll dream of the princess. Jasper groaned. He almost missed the nightmares that often plagued him. It was strange that he had told her things that not even Grand Uncle Brynden knew. Nothing was more awkward than talking about his feelings so freely, like a boy of summer. Jasper knew he would make a mistake somewhere and his heart would shatter again.

I'm becoming more naked before her

A lord's courtesy was his armor, and he was close to abandoning it all together. Somewhere at the Bloody Gate, Mya Stone was laughing at him.

Jasper sighed. Trying to forget Princess Myrcella wasn't working. No matter how hard he threw himself in the yard, the softness in his heart wouldn't fade. Every day it seemed to grow like the flowers in her garden it had taken root. The princesses from the songs had nothing on her. She was more beautiful and kind than any of them. It was painfully easy to talk with her. I could be happy with her. Very happy with her. Jasper thought. Though he dared not hope for that. All of his hopes had been dashed before. Father never loved him, nor mother either. He failed with his cousins and deep in his heart; he knew this wouldn't last either. I'm cursed to be a lone falcon.

Jasper hardened and banished such weakness from his mind.

The affairs of the heart mattered little, only keeping Arryn honor was of any worth. He would vanquish Tyrell ambition and safeguard a new era for Falcons to soar. My heart doesn't matter, only the honor the name Arryn inspires.

As High as Honor!

He dreamed that night of crowning her the Queen of Love and Beauty.

It was a wonderful dream.

Authors note: Next up the Lannisters and Tyrells make their final moves before the Tourney of the Hand. Jon prepares for his debut at the Tourney. A brief interaction with Jasper and Myrcella. After that chapter, we'll get into the Tourney itself! As always I enjoy reviews they help with the writing process I love reading them and responding to them.

Blackhawk43: That would be fun! No idea if it would happen though, I suppose we'll have to see what the matches end up being. Glad you enjoy it!

Guest: I'd say so, but good old Kevan is a man of duty that has a weakness for family especially Tywins kids. It makes sense for his character.

Freedmoon: As always I enjoy reading your long reviews!(Funnily enough, this is the second time I'm writing this out. I lost my orginial reply) I'll try to get to everything. I won't get into too much detail in what Lord Baelish is planning, but I'll say this about the charachter. The guy is less a grand plotter like Varys/Doran and is more a master of juggling a lot of balls in the air and choosing the best path that benefits him and his aims. Yes, you are right that Jasper is closer emotionally to the Blackfish than Baelish. Jasper sees Baelish as a brillaint and talented advisor, but it's more a professional relationship. Jasper would defend his man, but it isn't emotional. I think that makes sense given that Baelish spent all his time in the capital save one or two trips to the Eyrie. Funnily enough, I did consider the Stark/Arryn team up, I often travel down 'what if' roads like that. But I didn't think Jasper would do it. Yes, he does wish to honor his fathers legacy despite his mix feelings about the man, but Jasper is more a Tully than anything. He knows that the position of his House would beenfit more by holding his tounge. Think Hoster Tully and thats what Jasper normally does politically with a hint of Arryn honor.

Cersei is going more insane quicker than in canon. Removing Joffrey, Jamie really did a number on her psych. Plus, shes caged up never a good thing. As for Myrcella V Marg thing it's a battle of softpower more than anything. Who everyone seems to think will win, the Lannisters or the Tyrells. Most seem to think the Tyrells are on the up, and the Lannisters on the out. Marg seducing Jasper would not end well. Guy is wedded to his honor and of all the Great Houses with the exemptions of the Greyjoys he considers the Tyrells the lowest. They are just upjumped stewards to him. They pale to a princess of a realm!

I understand that feeling about Jasper sometimes I just want to reach out and throttle him! But I think that is a good thing makes things fun and intresting. It would be dull if he was Mr. Perfect. Guy is always going to be his worst enemy. If Jasper thought logically about it than yeah,you would be right, but Jasper is thinking emotionally about it. Deep down the guy desperately craves loves and affection. Though he thinks its unworthy. A Lord of the Eyrie only needs his honor and nothing else. Chasing after it would be a distraction and potentially a disaster. He is like a guy that swears up and down that he's done dating, but then a couple of weeks is back at it. Guy lies to himself. As you can see though it's him trying to be honorable that starts him down the path to affection despite him going kicking and screaming. Jasper is a guy that hides what he enjoys even to himself because he sees it as unlordly. If he could spend his day riding, reading, and the yard Jasper would. He really does like reading, though he hides that because he has this image of a martial lord that he tries to maintain. So he may enjoy playing cyvasse, but he considers it a childish game and he's the Lord of the Eyrie. Jasper is a loner trying to be an outgoing lord. Hopes this make sense.

Gangui: It's fine if you ask an annoying question, I don't mind. It's been some time since I read the books, but I was under the impression that Martin used Faith in that context cause I know normally you would be right. I try to mimic the medieval dialogue as much as possible.