Weiss

It took a fortnight for news to arrive from Pyke, announcing King Robert's victory over Balon Greyjoy, who was forced to bend the knee. Within a week of the raven's arrival, rumors and tall tales had started to spread amongst the smallfolk and the servants of the Gold Keep. Some said that Balon Greyjoy used the magic of the Drowned god and turned into a kraken before being defeated by King Robert and Lord Eddark Stark in legendary combat. Others said that Balon Greyjoy's sons were drowned in sacrifice, a last attempt at victory before being defeated in single combat by King Robert, who was gifted a hammer forged by the Smith himself before the final battle on Pyke. Those were likely embellished tales, others were much more believable. The most popular one revolved around Thoros of Myr, a Red priest of R'hllor, who had been the first to charge into the breach wielding a flaming sword and emerged at the end of the battle with nothing more than a bruise.

Those rumors, even if they happened to be false or embellished, were interesting. Weiss had never heard of this R'hllor, but if he was able to protect one of his priests in combat and have them emerge only with bruises, could that be a way to find her friends? She had no idea if they were even in this world, but what if they were? If R'hllor truly helped Thoros in combat, would he be able to do more? Emerging from combat with only a few bruises despite wearing robes sounded like the presence of aura once it was nearly depleted. Weiss would have to find out more once she had time, and old enough to not be questioned by everyone for every tiny little thing. Of course she'd need to be careful, her reputation as being 'blessed by the Seven' meant she had to tread lightly around other religions.

Thoros of Myr had not been the older fighter to gain fame. Lord Jorah Mormont of Bear Island was said to have been right behind him, wielding a Valyrian steel blade that had belonged to his family for centuries. That made Weiss a bit jealous. The Lannister Valyrian sword, Brightroar, had been lost for centuries before Aegon's Conquest, and all of the swords currently available to Weiss were boring and plain by comparison. Myrtenaster was lost to her, a part of her soul, and along with it went her small supply of Dust that Weiss had been using in the battle against Cinder. Weiss would have a replacement made once she was taller and not likely to be laughed at by the blacksmiths for Myrtenaster's strange designs. The design would have to be updated since Weiss didn't have any access to Dust. Unless Weiss could find or buy a Valyrian steel weapon, that would have to be her best option. Mind, if Tywin Lannister couldn't find anyone willing to sell their Valyrian sword, she doubted she'd have any better luck.

"Are you paying attention to my lecture, Lady Weiss?" Septa Loria said, pulling the white haired girl out of her thoughts. With Maester Harmune busy sending ravens to all of the Seven Kingdoms for the tourney, the dour Septa stepped up to handle more of Weiss' lessons. The Hightowers, who had supplied more ships than the Redwynes, had already responded that they would attend, with Lord Leyton Hightower himself bringing several of his sons. Evidently trying to win one over their old rivals, who had been a bit embarrassed when news of the entire affair surfaced, and likely to support his goodson, Lord Stannis.

"Of course." Weiss answered instantly, a polite smile on her face. Lannisport was home to one of the largest Motherhouses in Westeros, should she wish, Weiss was sure a quick complaint to her Mother would bring another septa to teach her beloved daughter, with the previous one assigned to some remote Motherhouse. Septa Loria knew as much, and tended to tread carefully around Weiss, usually. "We are discussing the reign of Baelor the Blessed, and how he saved his brother, Aemom the DragonKnight who was suspended above a pit filled with vipers."

It was rather boring. The Septons claim that Baelor was not bitten by a single viper, yet the maesters say otherwise and that he was possibly bitten hundreds of times. Weiss would rather hear more rumors about the siege, and find someone she could use. King Robert had knighted at least a hundred men, and with the City Watch in need of new officers, Weiss could convince one or two with the promise of a generous reward in the future. The City Watch was filled with Father's and Lord Tywin's men, Weiss was going to some who were loyal only to her. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially as the future Lady of Lannisport, unless Mother gave birth to a son.

That was very likely, Mother's stomach had grown since the attack on Lannisport, and not in the way that someone getting fat would. Mother tried her best to keep the news secret, yet Weiss would've figured it out anyways with all of the meetings she had been having with Maester Harmune. Before the year's end, Weiss would have a baby sister or baby brother. It made her nervous, not losing her inheritance, but being an older sibling and not failing them like she had Whitley. Was that how Winter felt when Weiss was born? She had been a child when Whitley was born, and didn't remember much from that time period. And once he had grown older, she hadn't exactly been the best of sisters to him. Mind, at least Winter had stayed in Atlas, she'd fled to another Kingdom altogether. No wonder he'd hated her when she returned.

"Very good, Lady Weiss." Septa Loria frowned, which made Alis hide a silent giggle with her hand. She had managed to join their lesson today, so it wasn't just Weiss and Alysanne having to suffer through this. After class it would be time for her to head to the training yard to spar with the squires that had remained behind, or had arrived ahead of King Robert, who was still on Pyke ensuring the Iron Isles wouldn't rebel again, whether by threat of force or hostages. Most likely a combination of both.

"Thank you." Weiss couldn't help but smirk, though she did so politely. Thanks to the memories from her past life, as well as being the product of a more advanced Kingdom, Weiss was smarter than a majority of the people here, if not all. Children her age wished they held the amount of knowledge that she had in her brain. Likely not, children her age didn't care about knowledge, only fun. Not that she ever had known what that was like, the first time she'd truly had friends was at Beacon.

Weiss had never been a normal child, even when she bore the name Schnee.

It took an entire month since King Robert's victory on Pyke for news to come that he would soon return to Lannisport, along with the entire Royal Host that had joined him for the war. Baratheon, Lannister, Arynn, Tully, Stark, Hightower, Mallister and Royce, some of the most powerful families in the realm would attend the tourney, and famous knights as well. Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Barristan were famed members of the Kingsguard, and Lord Eddard Stark was known for slaying the Sword of the Morning during Robert's Rebellion, considered the best living swordsman during their time.

Weiss sincerely hoped that some of the knights would live up to their reputations, though she did doubt many of them would. There was a reason why people said it was a curse to meet their heroes, but that still made Weiss want to spar against one or two of such legendary fighters in a melee or the training yard. None of the squires were on her level, which was to be expected. She was a huntress, trained to fight monsters that would terrify Westeros if they appeared here since she was eight years old. It might've been a bit arrogant of her to assume she was on the same level as such fabled knights, but she was a Schnee and a Lannister, arrogance was in her blood.

It took another week for King Robert to return once it was announced, with the Royal fleet assisted by Redwyne, Hightower and Mallister ships ferrying the levies from the Iron Isles back to Seagard or Lannisport. The majority of the levies would return home, to their fields and livelihoods, while their lords would make for Lannisport to participate in the tourney. Speaking of the tourney, the grounds were built just outside of Lannisport's walls, with an area for the melee, joust, and archery contests to take place. The tourney grounds were grand and impressive, and with the victor purses provided by Lord Tywin it wouldn't put too much of a dent in Father's treasury. The fact that all the guests would be spending money in Lannisport meant, if anything, Father would be turning a profit for this Tourney.

The first major event of the tourney was the archery contest, which was rather boring in Weiss' opinion. She sat in the seats beside Royal Box, along with the other Lannisters and family members from the Rock. The Lannister box was elaborately decorated, with golden lions on the tapestry and even carved into their seats. Weiss sat beside Mother, who sat beside Lady Genna. Lord Tywin would be in the Royal Box, along with Lord Stark, Lord Stannis and whoever the King decided to invite.

"Who do you believe will win, my Lady?" Mother asked Lady Genna. Six archers were out on the field to compete for a spot in the semi-finals. Weiss spotted the sigils of House Frey among them, with the rest bearing coat-of-arms that she didn't recognize. To be fair, she wasn't paying too much attention to it, more interested in listening to the conversations around her.

"Not my husband, that much I can tell." Lady Genna said with a giggle. Ser Emmon and another Frey, a beast of a man that looked part Crakehall, were amongst those competing for the semi-finals. "It's a miracle that he even made it this far."

The winners purse for the archery contest was five thousand dragons, with the joust and two melees having up to six times that. The first melee would have a bigger prize than the second. The second melee was Father's idea, with the winner receiving a large amount of gold dragons, and winning the position as Weiss' new sworn sword. Ser Robart would finally be able to rest, and work on his swordsmanship since he was far from the best fighter. Weiss hoped it wasn't going to be an idiot or a bigot.

"Ser Emmon has proven himself to be skilled with a bow." Mother said humbly. Her stomach had started to swell, and was obviously with child despite her loose dress. So far, the rumors hadn't started to circulate past the maids, but that was only a matter of time. They were busy talking about the white haired girl of seven namedays who was beating squires twice her age and three times her size. Just thinking about it made Weiss want to smirk and laugh.

"Bah, his brother Ser Hosteen is the better fighter." Lady Genna's green eyes stared at the gathered men, who prepared to shoot their arrows. Ser Hosteen Frey must've been the man that looked part Crakehall. Huh, she was expecting someone more akin to a weasel, not part boar. Wielding a longbow required plenty of strength, which Ser Hosteen seemed to have, unlike his brother.

Weiss gently pulled on the sleeve of her Mother's dress, which was conservative by Westerland standards. It got Mother's attention, who turned her head to look down into Weiss' eyes. "Yes, Sweetling?"

"Could I tour the grounds?" Weiss asked with a small smile. It was hard work, pretending to act like a child. Still, it did give her more freedom than if she was older. Oh, the paradox of age, the younger you were, the easier your misdeeds could be excused.

Mother frowned, but nodded after a few seconds. "Of course, but be sure to return before the start of the jousts. And take Ser Robart and Septa Loria." Alis and Alysanne were busy with their families, leaving Weiss alone with her fellow Lannisters.

"Thank you, Mother!" Weiss leaned upwards and pressed a soft kiss to her Mother's cheek. She would in fact, not be taking Septa Loria with her. Ser Robart would suffice, he was one of her Father's men, but he also knew better than to speak up against her. Also he wasn't a fan of the Septa anyway, so that was easily accomplished. She just needed to make sure the Septa was occupied elsewhere.

That should be easy.

The tourney grounds were colorful and bustling with people, squires, knights, wandering nobles such as herself, all jostling around, seeing the sights or doing errands. The air was filled with the sound of men yelling, promoting their wares or services as blacksmiths, while others yelled about placing wagers on who would win the various contests. It was all different, and felt strange, especially since the war was now over. Ser Robart followed a pace behind her, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Weiss wore a red dress with golden lions stitched onto it, it made her white hair and pale skin stand out even more. The crowd had given her considerable room, between her escort and her dress clearly showing she was a Lannister, though she was pretty sure some of the squires who saw her paled and backed away frantically.

"Will you be participating in the melee, Ser Robart?" Weiss asked innocently, stopping at a merchant's table. The table was covered in ribbons that were decorated in flowers, obviously intended as tokens to give out for those who didn't have any. She lightly rubbed a thumb over the material. It was cheap material, but the embroidery was better than Weiss' own work. To be fair, Weiss's sewing training was more about sewing up wounds, vs embroidering, so she had more practice there. The peddler was a thin man with a silver beard, who was anxiously looking at them, debating if he was about to get lucky or not.

"No, my Lady." Ser Robart admitted. "I fear I'm no Kingslayer or Barristan the Bold when it comes to skill at arms." Well, at least he was honest about his limitations. Could be worse.

Weiss' eyes continued to scan the ribbons, not giving Ser Robart a second look. "Crossing swords with them would be an honor."

"Aye, that it would." Ser Robart sighed. He was a middle aged man, with a balding head and a bushy brown mustache. The newly made knight wasn't exactly large, but neither was he the smallest of men.

"I will ask my Father to keep you in my service, regardless of who wins the melee he arranged." Weiss' eyes paused at the sight of a white ribbon with a red rose embroidered in the center. It was a single flower, with thorns emerging from its stem. "Beautiful." She murmured.

"Does it please my Lady?" The Peddler asked. He was nervous, and rightly so. A Lannister advertising his wares could make him, but if she was displeased, he would suffer.

"It does." Weiss said softly. "How much?"

"Five copper pennies, my Lady." The Peddler licked his lips. "My wife sews each one by hand."

Hm, not a bad price. Another merchant would've charged her a silver stag since Weiss was a Lannister and could easily afford it. Such honesty would have to be rewarded. Maybe she could name drop him if anyone asked about it?

"Ser Robart, a stag please." Weiss finally turned to her guard. He reached into his coin pouch and produced the coin, handing it to the merchant without a complaint.

"M-My Lady, this is too much!" The Peddler tried to refuse, but Ser Robart forced the coin into his palm. He took it, his hands trembling, and slid it into his coin pouch.

Weiss kept staring at the ribbon, which reminded her of life on Remnant. Happier, more stressful times. Back then it felt like the weight of the world was on Team RWBY's shoulders. "What's your name?"

"Erac, my Lady." Erac the ribbon peddler answered. No doubt he was worried he was about to be peddling his ribbons in Dorne or some other dreadful locale.

"I hope to buy more from you in the future, Erac." Weiss finally looked away from the ribbon and gave the man a small smile. "Your wife must have pretty hands."

"You are very kind, my Lady." Erac bowed his head. He must've been used to dealing with nobles, since he spoke the common tongue clearly unlike most of his fellow smallfolk. With that Weiss walked away, carefully tying the ribbon around her wrist.

Now she had to find people to recruit.

Jacelyn Bywater

It felt strange, having a stump for a hand yet still being able to feel it. Jacelyn had lost his right hand a little over a month ago, during the Siege of Pyke, victim of a lucky Ironborn who had lost his head, so really, Jacelyn came out ahead in the trade. Still, despite the pain, the loss of his hand was worth the knightship that King Robert had personally bestowed upon him. House Bywater had a long lineage, though they had lost most of their influence after the death of Maegor the Cruel. King Jaehaerys reduced them to a simple knightly house, stripping them of their lordship. Now he was a knight that had to learn to fight with his left hand, with a house's reputation resting in the palm of his hand.

Now he was forced to spar with squires and men-at-arms that would laugh at every loss. His tourney blade felt strange in his left hand, uncomfortable and foreign. Jacelyn circled a Frey soldier, their leather jerkin worn and patched. The Frey struck quickly, and Jacelyn was barely able to parry in time and return the favor with his own strike.

"Too slow, OneHand!" The Frey taunted. Jacelyn continued his assault as the gathered squires and men-at-arms that spectated cheered for no one in particular. He pushed the Frey back with wild swings, forcing him back with the fury of a man who had everything to prove.

Gritting his teeth, Jacelyn tightened his awkward grip on the sword, the yard filled with the noise of wood smacking against one another. The Frey lowered his sword at the wrong moment, giving Jacelyn his opening. A strong strike to his arm caused the Frey to welp like a weasel, and another to his chest sent him to the ground.

"Yield." Ser Jacelyn raised his tourney blade to the Frey's small chin. He resisted the urge to imagine it was live steel. He didn't need to make another enemy.

"I yield! I yield" The Frey raised his hands defensively.

"Good." Jacelyn would have offered to help him up, but that would've been hard to do with only one hand. He moved to return the blunted steel to the weapon rack.

"Impressive." A light voice said the moment Jacelyn placed the sword in its spot. It was soft, light, feminine and extremely young. He angled his head to look at the source of the voice, having to bend his head down a tad to notice it.

It was a little girl with sapphire blue eyes and hair so light that it looked white. She wore a red dress with lion embroidery decorating the bodice. A bald man stood a few feet behind her, armed with a short sword, and wore a leather jerkin with the sigil of House Lannister sown onto his chest. A Lannister girl? Strange, most of them had blond hair and green eyes, not the Valyrian look.

"Thank you." He huffed, stepping off of the training yard as a Piper squire stepped onto it, ready to face a Corbray.

"You lost your hand recently." The Lannister spoke bluntly, a hit of arrogance etched onto her face. She wasn't asking a question, no, she was telling him as if the Lannister had been there when he lost it. "You're not used to fighting with your left."

An arrogant child, wasn't she? Guess that answered the question if she was a Lannister, she had their trademark arrogance.

"Aye." Ser Jacelyn turned his eyes away from her to watch the next match. He had heard rumors about a white haired girl from the other squires that had gathered. They claimed that she had been undefeated in the training yard, and was given permission to train with a sword by Lord Lannister himself.

Those were just rumors.

"You could've won that match in three moves, had you been using your right." The Lannister continued speaking, her eyes also focused on the Piper and Corbray. Her eyes, they didn't look like they belonged to a girl her age, they looked like they belonged to a knight that had seen countless years of combat.

"So you say." Jacelyn said dryly.

"Do you know who I am?" The Lannister girl asked. The knight with her remained silent, entertained by the Corbray bashing the Piper's shield.

"A Lannister." Jacelyn tightened his jaw. He should be more respectful, the Lannisters were the ones hosting this tourney, yet the girl was annoying him. On top of being infamously vindictive, all of which meant he did not need another enemy to face.

"I am Weiss Lannister, daughter of Dramen Lannisport, Lord of Lannisport." She declared with a smirk on her face. Lady Weiss certainly didn't talk or hold herself like a girl her age.

"My apologies, my Lady." Jacelyn bowed his head slightly. What did she want with him? Shouldn't she be with her family, watching the contest and cheering for her favorites? "I am Ser Jacelyn of House Bywater."

Lady Weiss finally turned to look at him, tearing her eyes away from the match. The Piper had turned the tide, and was punching the Corbray's face. "A pleasure to meet you, Ser Jacelyn."

He nodded once more, and she continued speaking. "I'm sure you are wondering why I am here, speaking to a man such as yourself."

"Aye." Was his only response. Probably the only sane response, come to think of it.

The edge of Lady Weiss' lips turned upwards, into a grin that sent a shiver down Jacelyn's spine. She was no normal girl. "I have a proposition for you, Ser Jacelyn Bywater."

Now that was interesting.

A/N

Welcome to the first chapter of the second arc! Timeskips will occur after the tourney, which should be one or two more chapters.

Along with the timeskips should be a few more 'interludes' to show other changes made to the world.