AN: Alright, let's see if this gets done on a more reasonable timeline. Just a bit over 2 weeks, not as bad as last time. Enjoy.

RED KEEP

ROBERT

"Well?" Robert asked Varys as the Eunuch was allowed into his chambers by Ser Preston. "How are things going?"

"It is about even, between wins and losses." Varys responded. "The Lannisters brought a larger, unified group, than any other house. But most of them are either being hunted by those in on the plan or are being defeated by those not directly involved with your plan. Ser Kevan was defeated the other day by Lord Stannis, and Lord Westerling lost his Gold Dragons to Roose Bolton's bastard. Those were the two most significant defeats from yesterday. However, other Lannisters and their Vassals remain in the tournament. And every failure to get them out just brings them closer to victory themselves."

Robert nodded. Stannis had mentioned his victory earlier, but it was not enough. "And what of Tywin? Have you at least been able to learn what his deck is?"

"He won some victories himself, but then quickly retired to his rooms in the Red Keep. But of those victories, he appeared to be holding back in some way, as if he did not want to reveal what cards he had in his deck." Varys explained, somewhat hesitantly.

"You have no idea?" Robert questioned. "I thought you were Master of Whispers."

"Lord Tywin was Hand when I joined the council. He is well aware of my ways, and while I do get information from the Rock, rarely is it from my usual methods." Varys explained. "From what I have been able to gather, he uses many monsters with unusually high defense, and has several different cards that allow him to draw new cards into his hand. But from just that, I cannot say more without resorting to speculation."

Robert sighed. He supposed it could not be helped. "Any other news I should be aware of?"

"Far too much for me to explain in just one sitting. But perhaps the thing that would interest you the most is that Lord Nestor Royce brought your bastard, Mya Stone to the city, along with his own daughter." Varys said.

Robert stopped. Anger filled him. "What is she doing here? Jon told them to keep her safe! Not drag her into the Lioness' den!"

'The city is not a healthy place for a growing girl.'

Robert had let those words control how involved he was in the lives of his bastards. Edric was unavoidable, being bastard born but not lowborn, but Renly and Varys handled him far more than he did. But for the others, the ones from the whores, tavern wenches and maids, no such protection was possible. Anonymity was their best survival tool.

'If Cersei learns about her, she may try to prove those words true.' Robert feared.

This tournament was an attempt by Robert to actually get ahead of House Lannister. But there was a vast difference between selecting who got a castle and trying to punish the queen for a crime she was too cunning to commit herself.

"Apparently the girl has finally pieced together your identity. She wishes to meet with you." Varys said. "By all accounts, it was a spur of the moment decision. After what happened to the boy she loved, she wants someone to show her that there is a reason for her existence."

'And the moment I do, Cersei finds out.' Robert thought. 'Lyanna would never let me abandon one of my own children. I am sure of it. If Ned's honor demanded he take his Bastard, Lyanna would say that I need to do the same.'

"Nothing to be helped about it this late." Robert said. "I just need to avoid her for the time being. Maybe leave the Valemen and their retinue to Jon."

Jon Arryn was once again in the position of essentially running the Seven Kingdoms himself while Robert focused on the tournament. Robert felt bad about putting this burden on his father figure, but he comforted himself with the belief that this tournament was at least actually significant, considering what was at stake.

"Understood Your Grace." Varys said with a bow, but did not leave. "Can I take that to mean you will also stop seeing Gendry?"

"Not if he wins." Robert said "If he manages to get the Twins, then I can acknowledge him. That would help smooth things over with the rest of the River lords at least, that he is not just some random Smallfolk."

"Good for young Gendry, and his fellow lords who would become his peers." Varys said. "But… the boy is a blacksmith apprentice. He has no idea how to rule a castle, nor the lands under its control. He has little reading skill outside the cards, though better than most, and he is far more used to taking orders than giving them. I just fear for the Smallfolk who look to the Twins for protection and judgement."

Robert shrugged. "I was never trained to be king, if I can handle that, I am sure Gendry will be able to do it on a smaller scale. He is my son after all. Besides, plenty of lords leave much of the ruling to their Maester. Cressen was practically the lord of Storm's End with Stannis representing me till the Rebellion started."

"Of course, this may all be pointless without Gendry making it to the next round." Varys pointed out. "He did not duel at all yesterday, instead spending time at the forge. So he has less time to gather Gold Dragons."

"Is it a long shot? Aye." Robert said. "But he still has a chance. And if he does come out victorious, then his life will be so much better for it."

Varys then cut the conversation, bowed once again, and left the King to prepare.

The Melee was today. Robert did want to participate, but one look in the Mirror told him how wrong that would be.

Once the cards had come, something changed inside of him. He could not say what it was, but it had reawoken him from the lethargy he had stuck himself in. He had started working out, trying to regain his former glory, but he doubted he would reach that. Even now, he had probably only shed a stone or two of the weight he gained since Greyjoy's Rebellion. He was still fat, there was no denying it, but he could feel his strength returning to him. He was even finding some old clothes he hadn't worn for years, after realizing how loose his newer clothes were.

Perhaps that is why he wished for Gendry to succeed. Gendry was as large as he was at that age and had none of the vices that caused him to decay. He was a reminder of what Robert had once been, so Robert wanted him to win the tournament as a way to help return to his old self.

'Is it just because he looks like me? Or would I feel the same if he took after his mother?' Robert heard a whisper in his mind.

A knock hit his door, stealing Robert's attention from his own question.

"Your Grace?" Ser Barristan's voice echoed. "We are waiting for you so we can head to the Melee. I shall be competing, but Sers Balon and Preston shall be by your side."

"I'm coming." Robert said as he grabbed his crown. He looked himself in the mirror one last time, and then headed towards the tourney grounds.

RED KEEP-QUEEN'S CHAMBERS

JAIME

It was still early in the morning when Jaime found himself with his sister in her rooms. Unlike many of the previous times he was in here, there was little love present. There had not been since Joffrey had left, and even before then, Jaime had thought it best to keep some distance from Cersei more often after Meryn Trant's crimes were revealed. Should Robert suddenly burst through the door, he would see nothing but a knight in full armor holding a normal conversation with his sister.

'This might just be the longest I have gone without breaking my vows since Robert decided to keep me.' Jaime found himself thinking. He pitied Ser Barristan, who was too damn honorable to ever even go to a brothel in disguise, like Ser Boros did, or keep a mistress like Ser Preston.

"The Melee is in a few hours." Jaime said to his sister. "Robert was talking about watching it, even if he can't participate himself."

Jaime was going to participate himself. It would be good to actually get to use his sword for once. He and Ser Barristan were not meant to settle battles with pieces of paper, but with blades in hand. They shared a silent camaraderie over the loss of importance of their greatest skill, though it was far too strained from their history to bridge the gap that had existed since The Sack and Aerys' death.

"He should." Cersei said, venom in her voice. "And I pray he gets a mace to the face, so Joffrey can come back and rule as he is meant to. Fix all of Robert's foolish mistakes and be the king he was born to be."

"Except he wouldn't." Jaime reminded her. "If Robert dies before Joffrey's exile ends, then Tommen takes the Throne."

"Tommen is too weak." Cersei said dismissively. "He will do the right thing and turn it over to his brother."

'Assuming Joffrey would not see Tommen being called king as anything short of treason.' Jaime kept that thought to himself. He had always tried to keep Cersei's children distant. They were his seed, not his children. He could never be a father to them, nor did he have any desire to be one in the first place. While this meant Jaime did not have an ideal relationship with them, even as their uncle, it also kept him from being blind to their faults, like Cersei was.

If Jaime had been asked what he thought was Joffrey's greatest quality, he would have to say the boy was a skilled mummer, but that any talent he had was too focused on a single role. Joffrey knew how to play the gallant and honorable prince, but that was the only role he could manage. When he was not acting like that, he let his true self show. And many who witnessed the true Joffrey spoke about how the drops of Targaryen blood in Robert's history was to blame. Only Jaime knew that such madness and cruelty to just who Joffrey was naturally. If Robert did die, and Tommen did step aside to allow Joffrey to be king, Joffrey would still punish his brother for stealing his birthright, for being called king even once. That was just who he was.

But Jaime did not voice this. Cersei would never hear of anyone insulting her children, not even him. Instead, he kept listening as Cersei continued to complain.

"Robert, the drunken fool. First, he buys my children's love with these strange cards. Then, he has the audacity to arrest Ser Meryn!"

Jaime paused at that. He frowned. "You did not see what he did. Trant got what he deserved." Jaime was the last person who could complain about soiling the White Cloak. But the thought of Ser Meryn did not make Jaime think of just Myrcella, but Rhaella and Tysha. Elia as well. All women he had failed to protect, even when he cared about oaths.

Jaime had been forced to listen as Aerys forced Rhaella into his bed. He had not seen Elia, until after she had been cut down. Jaime had heard what Tyrion had been forced to witness and do to Tysha. He was simply thankful that Myrcella herself was never a target for Trant.

Killing Aerys was considered by all others his greatest sin. Even if he and Cersei were to be discovered, he was unsure which would be considered worse. But in Jaime's mind, His involvement, or lack of it, for those ladies, was what haunted him far more often.

"I see I will have to explain it then." Cersei said, turning with an annoyed look to face her twin.

"Meryn Trant owed his position to ME. House Trant may not be in the Westerlands, but I was very persuasive when he was being chosen for a white cloak. He understood that and would never betray us. His arrest and death over such a minor issue was nothing more than Robert trying to show that he is a player in the Game of Thrones, no matter how incompetently."

"Cersei... He was raping girls who had not even flowered yet." Jaime pointed out. "Myrcella's handmaidens. What would have stopped him if he had decided to go after her?"

"He never would have dared." Cersei brushed it off. "Besides, many of those girls that are sent to befriend or follow Myrcella are from houses so small, or so distant branches, that laying with a Kingsguard may well be their house's greatest accomplishment."

Cersei's eyes filled with a venomous rage. "Perhaps if Trant were here, he would never have let Robert send Joffrey away."

Those words stopped Jaime before he could even think of how to react.

'A mother's love is meant to be unconditional. But does it really blind her so much?'

Jaime clutched his hand, but he let it drop. He knew Cersei. There was a certain point where she would just ignore anyone's attempts to talk to her. Clearly this was such a time, and she cared not for what Jaime thought, only wanting someone to voice her thoughts to.

"I have to go." Jaime said, "else I will miss the melee. Might as well get some enjoyment out of this tournament."

"Jaime." Cersei said right when he put his hand on the door. When he stopped and turned around, she continued. "Will you return tonight?"

She was probably as pent up as he was. "I will try." He promised before leaving.

Once they were together again, it would relieve all of the burdens their temporary separation caused. They would go back to how they were meant to be. Two halves of the same person. A love none in the Seven Kingdoms, or even the greater world was able to comprehend.

MELEE GROUNDS

BRIENNE

King Robert was standing on a raised platform, while the various knights and lords who came to battle in the more traditional way all knelt as he explained the rules.

No cards, just the weapons they had trained in for years. The last one standing would get quite a significant reward: Seven Gold Dragons, one of each Attribute, as well as an additional attribute of their choice.

It was almost guaranteed that whoever won the melee would also participate in the next round of the tournament.

Robert had explained that the Maesters had learned that by removing your deck from your Duel Disk, it would prevent the Disk from appearing from nowhere. Each participant had handed their deck to some servants, who noted who had which deck, so they could be returned.

Once it was done, Robert had yelled at them to get to it and start beating each other bloody. A sentiment many around Brienne had expressed agreement to.

Many participants in the melee thought that she would be an easy and quick victory, believing their sex meant losing to a woman, even one larger and stronger than them, was an impossibility.

One by one, they all started to fall, either at her hands, or other knights who took them unaware. Everyone yearned for victory.

When Brienne had made her intention to enter the melee clear, many had looked down on her. She memorized their faces as best she could, so that she knew who to target first.

'No, first the Westermen, then personal grudges.' She chided herself. Renly was depending on her.

She had met with him privately after she arrived in the city. Renly explained the plan to make sure the Lannisters could not get the Twins, which is why she was asked to take as many of them down as she could.

She knew she was not the only one who was asked to help, but she did not know for sure who specifically shared her goal. She could guess Renly's former squire, Ser Loras. He may have included the rest of his family as well, or kept it to himself. She had heard that King Robert asked to meet with his Stark namesake, so it was likely that he was asked to do the same.

For the most part, she believed she could leave the dueling to the rest of the Baratheon's allies, but that did not mean not helping. The Melee had as a prize, the Gold Dragons that everyone was vying for. If she could win them, or at least take out the Westermen so they did not win, then she was certain that Renly would see that she was doing her duty. See that she could be a knight.

Ser Ronnel, her former betrothed, struck at her with a blade. She blocked it with her armored arm, and struck at him with her own blade, forcing him back and falling, landing on another knight as they both fell unconscious.

Brienne had no time to think about watching a former tormentor go down. She moved on to searching for a new opponent. She did not want to strike someone dishonorably when they were already in combat. And she needed to focus on those who would help the Lannisters.

The perfect opponent appeared in front of her mere moments later.

JAIME

This. This was why Jaime was born.

The familiar clash of metal on metal, the smell of blood in the air, and him, in the center of it all, blade in hand.

No political maneuvers for the good of the family. No arguments with others about what is right or wrong. Just him, and his own skill with a weapon.

Cersei was the only woman he ever loved but fighting would always remain his first love.

In front of Jaime was a hedge knight with a mace held in his hands. He went to strike at Jaime's breastplate, only for the Kingsguard to retreat a step, letting the hedge knight overextend on the swing, and letting Jaime strike him with the pommel of his blade, sending the man to his knees, where another knight fell on him.

Jaime looked up to see who had dealt with this other opponent. In front of him was a large figure, wearing a sigil of a sun and a moon, quartered.

He recognized it as the sigil of House Tarth but did not know the figure. Lord Tarth had no sons Jaime knew of, and he was too old to be fighting himself. A household knight or distant cousin?

Scanning the melee field, Jaime saw a few familiar faces make themselves known. Ser Barristan was handling Loras Tyrell, the young knight showing a talent that let him even survive against the living legend. Adam Marbrand was on the ground, though the reflexive movements of his fingers showed that Jaime's friend was not taken by the Stranger. Thoros of Myr and his bloody flaming sword were making plenty of young new knights flee from him.

Seeing no one else that was an immediate danger, Jaime focused his attention on the Tarth Knight in front of him. His opponent measured him up as well and readied his own blade.

Many people compared skilled warriors fighting to other, less violent activities. Jaime did so as well, describing Ser Barristan in his youth as a painter who only used red. But the most common comparison was dancing.

Jaime was an expert dancer, but while this Tarth man had little experience, they possessed enough raw strength and talent to give Jaime a decent challenge.

As more time passed, and the Cards became ingrained as the new form of combat, Jaime feared that such challenges would fade as well.

He better enjoy this while it lasts.

Jaime deftly moved out of the way of a strike that would have rattled his head. Plate Armor might protect its wearer from mortal wounds, but no knight liked the ringing when a helmet was hit.

He countered with a thrust of his own, aiming for his shoulder.

His opponent parried it away, but not quick enough to launch their own attack before Jaime had another one ready.

Strike from the left, parry, dodge the counter, backslash. Move to the right, then jump back to the left when they turn.

It was a game to Jaime. Nothing more than a fun way to pass the time. He did not care for the reward, nor who won the tournament in full. He cared not for who would control the Twins, and why should he? So long as he had battle and his own twin, his life was complete.

'Let Father, Robert and all the others care about the Game. Just let me do what I was meant to do.'

Unfortunately, all good things must eventually end. And they rarely ended how someone wanted.

As Jaime put some distance between him and the Knight of Tarth, he had gotten too ingrained in their single combat to remember to keep an eye out for his surroundings.

He felt something strike at the back of his knee. Nothing sharp enough to cut through and hit his flesh, but hard enough that it brought him down.

Jaime turned his head as he fell to the ground, and through his visor he could see Ser Loras standing above him. Behind him, Ser Barristan was focused on trying to knock Thoros out.

If Jaime was a spectator, he would have laughed.

'Well now, did the Honorable Ser Barristan actually let Loras go to attack me?'

Anyone who could hear Jaime's thoughts would have objected. Surely the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would never intentionally let his sworn brother be attacked on purpose.

'Perhaps the corruption finally got to him.' Jaime mused as Loras raised his blade to knock Jaime out. 'Having to see how far the Kingsguard has fallen, and knowing I am the reason. If he did do this intentionally, I suppose I cannot grudge him too much.'

BRIENNE

She saw Ser Loras approach the Kingslayer but could do nothing to stop him before the strike brought Tywin's favorite son to the ground.

Brienne would never say that the Kingslayer did not deserve such a punishment for breaking his oaths, but they were in battle against each other. Ser Loras dishonored not just himself, but her as well by attacking.

'Did he do it so he could claim to have bested the Kingslayer? Or did he think I needed to be saved?' Brienne thought.

Ser Loras turned his back to her, as if saying she was not worth thinking about, and approached Ser Barristan, who had just finished off Thoros of Myr, and had his white Kingsguard cloak burned and singed for his trouble.

Armor was heavy and hot at the best of times, facing someone with a burning sword could not be easy.

She looked around. The melee had five people still standing. The three of them, as well as Lord Beric Dondarrion, and his opponent, another Westerman known by many for his title as the Strongboar.

A part of her said to focus on the Strongboar should he best Lord Beric. He was the last Westerman in the melee, and while she was unsure if Beric was told to target Westermen, Ser Barristan and Loras were likely on Renly and Robert's side.

But the thought of Loras striking down her opponent enraged her.

She had not even realized that she had dropped her sword-her arm was too tired from blocking Jaime Lannister's constant barrage to hold onto it- and simply plowed right on top of Loras, sending the both of them to the ground.

"What are you doing Wench!?" Tyrell's voice, both muffled and echoed from his helmet, yelled at her in shock.

It did not matter to Brienne. She brought her mailed fist to Loras' helmet, and while the metal protected him, it rang loud enough for her to hear it.

Ser Barristan stepped around them, but Brienne barely noticed.

Loras was skilled with all manners of weaponry, but now he was unarmed.

But she was not.

She pulled out a knife from her belt. It was hardly an honorable move, but her Father's Master of Arms had been sure to drill pragmatism into her first.

She held it to an open slit on Loras' helm.

"YIELD! I YIELD!" Loras yelled.

Brienne pulled the knife away and started to get up. She turned, hoping to reclaim her dropped blade, only to see it stare her in the face.

It was being held by Ser Barristan. Lord Beric and the Strongboar on the ground behind him.

"I would agree with the boy if I were you, Ser." The older knight said.

Brienne was in no position to resist. She was not standing up, and any move to try to finish getting up would result in Ser Barristan striking her faster than she could stand.

'At least it was not a Westerman who won.' Brienne comforted herself.

"I yield." She said as the Lord Commander was declared the Champion by both the King and the crowd watching.

The King clapped, and the crowd followed his lead. Ser Barristan had won another melee, just like he often did, but perhaps because the cards had turned actual combat into a rarity, the cheers were louder than should have been expected

Brienne had been so focused on the fight; she had not heard the crowd at all.

'Would they have cheered for me if I was victorious? Or would their cheers turn to laughs at my expense?' Brienne wondered as she picked herself up.

AN: And this is done, much quicker than last time.

I have been having problems with my laptop and am going to bring it into a repair place over the weekend, so that may affect when the next chapter comes out. But I also have a work project next week as well. We will see how long the next one takes.

Robert's scene shows a bit of how he views Gendry and why he seems so close to him, and his reaction to hearing Mya is in the city as well.

Jaime's first scene is his first interaction with Cersei in this series. I have been listening to a fan reading of the chapters, trying to make sure Jaime's character is a good blend of him at the beginning of the series, while also showing the depths that only get explored later when he becomes a POV. Plus, while he always tried to stay away from his kids, I think hearing about Meryn Trant's actions against girls Myrcella would know would kick in some parental instincts that atrophied. Then we have him in the melee itself, where he is a monster with a sword. An expert in a form of combat that has recently become obsolete. I hope his showing was enough to warrant that. Also, to make sure this is clear, he was basically toying with Brienne. In canon, he was weakened by over a year in prison, to give them a fairer fight. Here, Jaime recognized the talent, and decided to have his fun instead of taking her out too quickly. Unfortunately for him, this opened him up to Loras' surprise attack. As for if Ser Barristan actually let Loras do so, or if Thoros interfered first and Loras took the chance to disengage and change opponents, I will leave that open to interpretation for now. Ser Barristan is in on the plan to remove the Lannisters from the tourney, and while Jaime does not care about it, he could simply give his coins to Tyrion or someone.

As for Brienne, hopefully I gave her enough of a showing to match expectations. Her sense of honor in Loras interfering with what she saw as single combat may come back later and impact her relationship with Renly, but we will see.

In the end, Ser Barristan takes the win for the melee, and the prize of most of the GD needed to move on.

Hope You All Stay Safe and Wish You Luck in All Your Future Endeavors.

Jaehaerys . Joestar.