A Song of Fire, Ice and Hearts

by Jebest4781

Venturing outside of the Heart of his Somebody, a Nobody enters a World where it's at the brink of self destruction. Will he be able to handle and survive the Game of Thrones. Rated M for language, violence, etc. Pairings hidden at current time. KHXGoT/ASoIaF CoWritten by free man writer. Cover Image by Carlos M. Please leave reviews.

29. The Hand's Tourney PT 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Disney, Square-Enix, Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire or anything else. They rightfully belong to their respective owners.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Writing/Singing

"Foreign Language/Flashback"

-Scene Shift-

Chapter 29: The Hand's Tourney Part 1

"My Lady, you ought to cover your head. You will catch a chill."

"It is only water, Ser Rodrik." Replied Catelyn as they rode their horses northward.

Her hair hung wet and heavy, a loose strang stuck to her forehead, and she could imagine how ragged and wild she must look, but for once she didn't care.

The southern rain was soft and warm, something which she had almost forgotten. She liked the feel of it on her face, gentle as a series of kisses from a caring mother. Such a feeling took her back to her childhood, to long muggy grey days at Riverrun to the comparison of her adulthood of the cold and hard days in the North.

Catelyn was highly tempted to make a detour to return to her ancestral home and spend a few days there. Sadly she had to withhold such temptation as she wanted to return to her sons back in Winterfell.

"I am soaked through." Complained Ser Rodrik. "Even my bones are wet." The rain kept on pouring at an even pace as their sound chorused over the sucking sounds made by the horses' hooves through the mud. "We will want a fire tonight, my Lady, and a hot meal would serve us both."

"Hopefully not as I see the Inn at the Crossroads up ahead." Cat remarked, inclining her head in the direction of said Inn in the distance.

The Tully born woman had slept many nights there in her youth, traveling with her family. It was like a second home to them due to how often her father, Lord Hoster Tully, ended up dragging them along in order to properly keep him company.

"The Crossroads Inn… If only we could actually rest there." Ser Rodrik said wistfully. "Alas we can't dare to risk it. If we wish to remain unknown until we reach the Neck, I think it is best to seek out some small holdfast-" He was soon broken off by the sounds heard up the road, causing Winterfell's Master-at-Arms to take better notice of them. "Riders! My lady, best pull up your hood now!"

Catelyn hardly made a motion when their horses came to ride past along the riders. Up close, she took notice of their banners, a silver eagle on an indigo field; the Mallisters of Seagard.

The last time she saw these particular bannermen of her Lord father was years ago during her wedding feast alongside Lysa. Then again, she hadn't seen a whole lot of them since the end of Robert's Rebellion.

No matter how many crossed by them with their respectful nods, neither one seemed to make any notion of recognition; something which Ser Rodrik paid attention to even when their lord, Jason Mallister was amongst them.

"They didn't know you." Rodrik said in brief wonderment.

"They only saw a pair of mud-spattered travelers. It would never occur to either of them that one might be the eldest child of their liege lord." Said Catelyn as they drew closer to the Crossroads Inn. "I think we shall be safe enough for the night."

When coming across the infamous inn of the Riverlands as the skies grew ever darker, they were soon met with the building's matron, Masha Heddle; who grew a tad fatter and greyer since she saw her last.

When awaiting for Ser Rodrik to haggle with the inn's matron, Catelyn gazed back to where the Mallister's were heading off to.

For days, she had seen retinues of many Houses traverse their way towards the capital for the Hand's Tourney. Either to participate or witness it.

Soon thinking of the capital for the upteenth time since departing there made Catelyn berate herself in not wanting to see her precious girls one more time. Her husband would've set up a rondevu point for them to at least see and speak with one another before her trek back North.

In the very least, Catelyn and Ned shared a rather passionate night together before she had to flee the capital with Ser Rodrik protecting her.

It could've been easier to use the same route they've taken before, but Catelyn's precautious nature got the better of her after the encounter at Petyr's brothel, forcing her to decide to take the roads instead.

Granted they were more or less the same amount of time of travel to reach Winterfell, depending on the weather conditions along the way and the number of a traveling party.

After several minutes of conducting business with the inn's matron, Rodrik came over and brought Catelyn inside once taking their horses to the nearby stables. Ascending a flight of stairs, the pair soon ended up in a nice warm room located under the bell tower.

One would rather not board in a space located within such a structure, given the intensity of them hearing the bell directly above them. But it was either that or going back on the road due to there being no other space available for the day.

Not wanting to sleep in the rain, what little choice did the pair have.

Situating herself on a chair nearby a freshly lit fireplace, Catelyn was brushing her matted hair. Droplets of rainwater fell onto the floor with a number of them hitting her freshly worn dry clothes she had packed away.

Working her way to take care of her dark hair, the matriarch of House Stark thought more of the capital with what family is presently in the den of vipers, her mission to bring justice towards her son Bran and several more.

One thought brought her mind onto Roxas as it often came rather frequently.

The reputation of the young Keybearer was starting to grow far faster and reaching far wider than his father, unlike what occurred back in Harrenhal and in Robert's Rebellion. Ventus taking part in an illustrious event which lasted over a week before disappearing with tensions settling down.

His impact seemed to dwindle over time, only reigniting once more upon his return only a year later when the sparks of war erupted. His merits and actions grew and spread from the Taking of Gulltown up to the Sack of King's Landing.

Bane of the Unversed, Key of the Wind, Windrider, Hero of Harrenhal and the Untitled Knight were amongst the many names and titles Ventus had earned during such times. Each would've been more remembered for a far longer time period if it weren't for his abrupt departures and never to be seen and heard from again.

And yet his legend lives on as history seems to have repeated itself given the appearance of his son.

Light of the North, Heartless Slayer, Key of Light, Dragonslayer, and several other names and titles were given towards the young Roxas with the boy not even being aware of such monikers. Not to mention one that stood out the most since she first heard it from a member of the King's Landing City Watch: the betrothed of Myrcella Baratheon.

Learning that Roxas was going to marry Robert's daughter soured Catelyn's mood as she had wished for him to be betrothed to her daughter Sansa instead.

Asides from the boons and growing reputation House Stark and Tully would have from such a union, Catelyn sought to honor Ventus' memory by having his son marry into her family and take care of him as he helps protect their land from the Heartless. And Robert seemed to have shared the same idea and acted upon this first. Thus, such a decree from a king, a betrothal of all things, is one thing that is hard to work around and refuse outright.

Soon the supper bell rang in a deafening tone, severely knocking Catelyn out of her musings.

"We had best make haste if we hope to eat tonight, my lady." Spoke Ser Rodrik. "Those who come late to the table don't eat."

Catelyn nodded as she placed the brush down. "It might be better if we were not a knight and a lady, but common travelers until we pass the Neck. Father and daughter on some family business, perhaps?"

Rodrik nodded with a chuckle in his voice. "As you say, my la- my daughter."

Cat gave him a wry smirk of amusement.

Making their way to the dining center of the Inn, the "father/daughter" pair could no longer hear any more rain pattering against the windows. It seems the dinner bell halted whatever storm and brought in a calm period of sorts.

For how long, however, was the question.

When Catelyn and Rodrik appeared in the dining hall, they could clearly see how packed it was. The inn's matron wasn't lying when there was no other room as the space was nearly filled to the brim. They could make out a number of people wearing sigils from the Riverland Houses to residents of the nearby town and villages, either for work or travel.

The "father/daughter" pair were able to find a vacant table near a window as they saw the muddy land around the inn, barely seen by the lit lanterns hanging all around.

"I still say you should still cover yourself more, daughter." Rodrik said to her as he tried to find someone to get them some food and beverage to their table.

"Like anyone would recognize me here, father."

"It wouldn't hurt to do so." He suggested.

More commotion went all around the dining room as all sorts of conversations took place. And yet there was one that seemed to brew within Rodrik and sought to be spoken of.

"Begging your pardon My Lady, but there is something that has been bothering me for some time now." Rodrik spoke up with a troubled gaze.

"Hmmm? And what might that be father?"

"Catelyn, if I may speak freely, I don't think Tyrion Lannister is behind what happened to Bran."

Catelyn looked at him in a mixture of shock and confusion on the topic suddenly brought up.

"You saw the evidence. What makes you think differently?"

The Master-At-Arms merely sighed.

"I admit the evidence does seem to point towards him, but there's no motive for the action at all." Rodrik then explained his reason. "Tyrion never really met the boy until the feast when the King and his retinue arrived in Winterfell. The other times were when he went to pay his respects after his fall. Given what I know of his reputation, he'd rather spend money on wine, whores and books; nothing else. And I have to agree with Roxas that Tyrion never did any wrongs towards any of your family during his stay."

"But Petyr-"

"Only stated the dagger belonged to him. It could've been stolen or lost."

"A cover up for his misdeed." Catelyn rationalized.

She trusted Petyr like family and wanted to defend him. She did so many times ever since he first came to Riverrun in their youth. The latest of them was stopping the fight between Petyr and her former betrothed -Brandon Stark- when Petyr dueled him for her hand in marriage. After seeing the long cut across the chest of her childhood friend, she stepped in to stop the fight before it could progress any further.

"Haven't you been able to have an open mind on the matter? Couldn't it have been someone else who'd done the deed?" Rodrik explained even further. "It could've been someone else of the Lannister family, but not Tyrion. There is a measure of humility in him beneath his appearance. He'd gain utterly nothing from hurting Bran in any form of fashion."

Catelyn could only look away as a little civil war waged within her.

As much as she wanted to argue any further on the matter, she wished for a distraction to occur to keep her mind onto something else for a little while longer.

"Seven blessings to you, goodfolk!" A young man with brown hair and a beard greeted, briefly sitting down beside their table. In his grasp was a small woodharp to signify his profession as a musician.

"And to you." Catelyn replied with a smile.

"Are you bound to the Tourney at King's Landing?"

"We are not, unfortunately." Came Catelyn's response. "We are just heading home after departing from the capital on business."

The bard barked out a laugh. "That's where I plan on going. The Hand's Tourney would be such a sight to see if I would be able to get there in time if it weren't for this blasted weather."

"Then I wish you a safe journey…"

"Marillion." Said the bard. "Marillion is the name. Doubtless you've heard of me play somewhere? I was made to sing for kings and high lords."

A chuckle escaped her lips. "I can probably see that. Lord Tully is fond of songs, I hear. No doubt you've been to Riverrun?"

"A hundred times. They keep a chamber for me, and Lord Edmure is like a brother."

Catelyn's smile hid a facade as she inwardly frowned at the lie. She wondered what Edmure would think of that proclamation. A singer had once bedded a girl her brother had fancied and tried courting and he had hated the breed ever since. The only times they could be within Riverrun, without earning her brother's disdain, is when he isn't around.

"Boy! Bread, meat and beer, quickly." Rodrik yelled to the passing serving boy, who nodded quickly and scurried off.

The bard briefly slapped Rodrik's arm, missing the growl aimed towards him as a result. "Good idea, grandfather. I'm starving. A song while we wait or-?"

"I'd rather throw myself down a well." Rodrik replied, having Catelyn stifle a chuckle at the Master-At-Arm's honest tone of voice.

Catelyn knew of Rodrik's preference for music. He was fine with all kinds, but if it was in terms of singers, he'd prefer women as they'd help sooth his spirits with their voices.

"Grandfather, it may be your last chance if you're heading North."

"Have you traveled North? Winterfell perhaps?" Catelyn asked Marillion.

"Why would I? It's all blizzards and bearskins up there. And those Starks and Northerners know no music but the howling of wolves!"

As the bard finished his statement, the door to the inn creaked open and two men walked in. They looked over and they recognized the taller fellow to possibly be a member of the Night's Watch while the other was a dwarf in rich leathers and a cloak. And behind them were a pair of Lannister guards who soon entered the inn not long after.

Seeing the dwarf of Casterly Rock, Rodrik could only hope he wouldn't notice them or else things might go down rather badly. But when he saw the look on Catelyn's face, he could only wish she wouldn't act out given how close they were to home.

"Innkeeper!" Spoke one of the Lannister men. "We have horses that need stabling and Lord Lannister here requires a room."

Masha, the innkeeper, came up to the pair and spoke politely to the well known Lannister. "I'm sorry, m'lord, we're full up. Every room."

"My men can sleep in the stable. As for myself, I don't require a large room." Came Tyrion's response.

"Truly, m'lord, we have nothing." She said earnestly.

Without missing a beat, Tyrion fished out a gold dragon from his clothes and held it on high, waving it back and forth for all to see. "Is there nothing I can do…" He pinged the coin onto a table he walked past, causing the metal clanging in the air for all to hear. "...to remedy this?"

"You can have my room." A voice spoke up.

Tyrion looked over and saw a man with slicked back dark brown hair with an unkempt beard adorning his face, wearing a dull brown attire.

"There's a clever man." Replied the dwarf, throwing the corn for the man to catch. "You can manage food, I trust? Yoren, dine with me."

"Aye, my Lord." Said the member of the Night's Watch.

Wanting the chance to earn some coin, Marillion piped up towards the Imp. "My Lord of Lannister! Might I entertain you while you eat? I can sing of your father's victory at King's Landing!"

"Nothing would more likely ruin my supper." Tyrion said, right before his eyes landed on a woman he knew very well and was shocked to see her here of all places. "Lady Stark! What an unexpected pleasure. I was sorry to have missed you at Winterfell after coming back from seeing the Wall."

Whatever commotion that was in the dining room was quickly halted as hushed whispers took president throughout the inn at the mention of her name.

"L-Lady Stark?" Said Masha in utter shock.

Marillion wasn't any better as he had practically insulted the highborn Lady of Winterfell right in front of her face moments prior. His skin started to pale not long after, fearing he might be punished for doing such a thing.

Catelyn, however, greatly resisted the urge to facepalm and loudly groan.

Apparently Rodrik was right, she should've covered her features more in order to keep a far lower profile. Now she was paying for her mishandled mistake.

As this occurred, a number of things ran through her mind in a manner of seconds.

Catelyn could be cordial and talk to Tyrion in order to clear up a number of matters. That should be the more reasonable thing to do.

Yet…

Yet... something inside her seemed to reign over her with Tyrion Lannister within her presence. Whispers suddenly filled her head, telling her to not trust the Imp of Casterly Rock. They even told her to do what she thinks is right like what any "normal" person should do. And there was only one way to do so in this scenario.

Right?

Standing up from her feet, she spoke up for all to see. "I was still Catelyn Tully the last time I stayed here." Soon her eyes wandered a little as her river blue eyes caught onto someone's attire. "You, Ser… is that the Black Bat of Harrenhal I see embroidered on your coat?"

"It is, my Lady." The mentioned knight confirmed.

"And is Lady Whent a true and honest friend to my father, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun?"

"She is."

Tyrion raised a questioning eyebrow, wondering where she was going with this.

Catelyn looked around at the people of the room and she spied another sigil of the Riverland Houses. "The red stallion was always a welcome sight at Riverrun. My father counts Jonas Bracken amongst his oldest and loyal bannermen."

"Our lord is honored by his trust." Replied the Bracken knight as he stood up in respect.

Tyrion finally decided to speak up, still confused at her sudden actions. "I envy your father and all his fine friends, but I don't see the purpose of this."

Rodrik soon did, rising up and began whispering into Catelyn's ear. "My lady, please don't-"

Yet Catelyn ignored her husband's bannerman in favor of addressing another knight in the dining room.

"I know your sigil as well. The twin towers of Frey. How fares your lord, Ser?"

The Frey knight stood up and respectively spoke to her. "Lord Walder is well, my Lady. He has asked your father for the honor of his presence on his 90th name day. He plans to take another wife."

Tyrion voiced a scoff, to which Catelyn shot him a glare. Of course he visually responded back with a 'What?'.

There was no surprise in knowing this. The Late Walder Frey goes through wives left and right like it was going out of style.

Catelyn then turned to address the entirety of the inn before Rodrik spoke in a hushed tone.

"My lady-"

Once more, she ignored him as she lifted her arm and pointed towards the Imp.

"This man came into my house as a guest and there conspired to murder my son, a boy of ten." Eyes throughout the room were quickly aimed at the dwarf as Tyrion could only step back in shock. "In the name of King Robert and the good Lords you serve, I call upon you to seize him and help me return him to Winterfell to await the king's justice."

Tyrion's eyes became wide as saucers and suddenly all of the knights drew their swords towards him. And before the Lannister guards who accompanied their Lord could act, they were stopped by some nearby men as they were quickly seized and knocked out accordingly.

'What the fuck?!' Tyrion yelled in his mind.

Rodrik merely slapped a hand over his face, quickly knowing his Lord's wife had just done something utterly stupid despite his prior warnings.

Seems whatever calmness there once was eventually given way for a coming storm.

-First Morning of the Hand's Tourney, King's Landing-

The day had dawned brightly with the sun burned ever present with hardly a cloud in the sky. The breeze helped cool the summer day for all those moving outside of the city's walls, primarily past the Lion Gate. Turning southward through a hilly woodland, one followed a wide trail that ended at a massive clearing where a hundred pavilions had been raised beside the river, and the common folk came out in the thousands to watch the games and coming events.

The splendor of it all robbed the breath away from both Sansa and Arya as this was their first tourney to witness.

The other highborn ladies had once shared their experiences towards the sisters on their times attending them in the past. Speaking of the armors worn by the competitors, the shouted intensity of the crowd, the plethora of banners snapping in the wind. It all overloaded their senses as the Stark girls were quite excited to see what will unfold before them.

And so far, this was better than whatever songs they ever heard.

The sisters watched many ride forth to their respective areas, each more fabulous than the last. There had to be thousands of them, at least, from every corner of the realm. An exaggeration, of course, as they tried to see if there were any Northerners -outside of their father's retinue- who surprisingly showed up to the event and found none.

Sansa and Arya even tried to spot any they could recognize when they first rode their way to the tourney grounds. Either from any billowing flags which bore a House's sigil to any of the colorful tents.

Presently, the Stark sisters sat with their father and Septa Mordane in the stands where the other lords and ladies were situated. Even their faithful direwolves were seated beside them. It did earn a number of looks from some of the lords and ladies in the stands, wondering why such creatures were here in the first place. Others appeared fine with them, such as the Tyrells and Martells.

Septa Mordane was not exactly pleased when Sansa and Arya brought their direwolf companions with them into the stands. The sisters swore they'd keep Lady and Nymeria in line as they were good girls as they've trained them well.

There was a decently large canopy providing shade from the sun above for the spectators below.

At the center of the stands resided the royal family as their placement was raised and given more space than any other attendee. The King wore garments befitting his House with a crown situated on his head. By his right was his wife and Queen, looking beautiful and regal in her red gown. The row below them resided with their children as they wore the finest silks and materials to clearly give out their status.

Another addition to the central stands was the Hound as he was Joffrey's sworn sword. He would be standing by his side in case of anything, asides from when he has to take part in the jousts and the melee. Asides from Sandor was Ser Barristan as he stood near the family as per his duties as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

Situated really close to the royal family were members of the Small Council and whatever family members they each had with them at this time. Aside from them were many powerful people, some of which were the Houses who lead their respective realms of Westeros. One such person was the Queen's father, Tywin Lannister.

The man might as well sit in the central stands at this point given how powerful the man was.

It honestly did come to a surprise for many on the Great Lion's arrival, not expecting him to show up at all. Ned, being one of them, honestly didn't know if he would gain more grey hairs with any more powerful people making their abrupt appearance.

The present Hand could clearly see the amounts of tension in the air whenever Tywin strode by, more so when he ever came near any of the Martell Household. Ned did have to become wildly alert and ready in case anything were to happen between them, given the bad blood and relations. Whatever present civility there is-is practically at a knife's edge with just the wrong action could set everything off.

He was starting to feel knots and muscle spasms all over by this point.

Luckily there were those to keep this at an all time low, such as Roxas.

Speaking of the Keybearer, he was also present at the Tourney at this time. He had to make an appearance when the royal family and the Starks made their arrival at the opening ceremony due to his importance and upcoming marriage with Myrcella.

Roxas did state that he would witness the archery competition, but would be absent for most of the jousts. It was due to him wanting to help patrol the land for any Heartless and Unversed if any were to come remotely close to the event. But once he takes off, Cloud will take his place as the Blonde Wolf presently has the first shift in assisting the guards on the matter.

When everyone was situated with enough time had passed for any possible last minute arrivals, the sounds of horns were loudly blown. The surrounding populous of attendees snapped at relative attention as King Robert rose up from his seat to address the masses.

The fat stag gazed all around before speaking as loud as he can for all to hear.

"All of you competitors are the finest knights, champions and warriors Westeros has to offer. From the old and veteran to the young and gifted. Battle is what you live for and even periods of peace have it's fair uses." He then waved his hands towards the commoners as he continued. "You all fight for them. Remind them that when war and conflict arises, you'll be there to protect them." The smallfolk cheered at the declaration, earning a chuckle from the king. "Now go out there and show us what you're made of while honoring my new Hand and the man who aided me in becoming King! Lord Eddard Stark!"

The populous clapped as Robert finished his opening speech, out of courtesy or out of inspiration.

Once the king sat down, his Hand arose so it may be his turn to address them.

"As our good king has said, it is an honor for you all to come here for this event. We have indeed had a long peace, nearly twenty years since the conflict with the Targaryens and nearly a decade with the Greyjoys. This I'm thankful for every single day." Ned paused, letting the present populous to give out respective cheers and agreements on the addressment. "Now this tourney is meant to honor me for becoming Robert's new Hand, yet I feel it is unjust to have it so."

This last statement caused a bit of mixed unsettlement with many. The majority of the masses were quite confused. Those in the know of the reason beforehand either shifted uncomfortably in their seat or bore their own visages on how they thought of Ned's bold declaration. A number of them were even curious, wondering what the Lord Hand was getting at.

And frankly, they were not quite used to someone who doesn't boast about their position or someone who looked so bloody grim.

"I dedicate this tourney not in my honor but to you all." Ned gestured to the competitors and small folk, even as he glanced over to where Roxas was located. "To the men who dutifully protect us and to the honest folk who strive hard in life." This earned quite the resounding cheer from the commoners as Ned eventually continued speaking. "Now before we finally begin, I wish to inform you all that fresh food and drink will be freely given. It's high time for the people to enjoy the rewards of these past years of peace and prosperity."

When things had to be finished on organizing the event, Ned decided to put his foot down on a few matters and use his influence as Hand to make things occur. If he had to at least attend the majority of this tourney, he did not want just the nobility to enjoy the professions. The smallfolk primarily suffered much in the capital and the surrounding areas and they needed to be treated fairly.

So yes, it did cost a bit extra on the funding to provide the necessary food and drink, but Ned greatly hoped it was well worth it.

Apparently this act had greatly earned Ned a lot of likability from the commoners and nobles. Some of which were the Tyrells and Martells as they had similar views and thoughts as the present Hand. Most of the Lannisters and Small Council thought of him being quite bold in doing this, thinking it was quite the powerplay of earning much favor and love from the masses.

With the Stark retinue, they smiled proudly on their lord's action. More so with Ned's daughters and even Roxas.

Ned wanted to be a good and just Hand of the King. So far, things were looking up in the city after the sewage system was being taken care of. And no doubt after this tourney, there will be nothing this big for quite a number of years as he will get the Crown's accounts back in the green.

Once the opening ceremony concluded, the archery competition eventually went underway.

The competitors of the first event filed out and it was a good couple dozen in total. A few appeared to be noblemen, others were relative unknowns. By the looks of it, they appeared to be hunters or infantry bowmen, given their respective attire.

Yet when taking a closer look at a few of them, a number of people seemed to have recognized them.

The first was a dark skinned man wearing yellow leathers and some pieces of armor with a short, colorful green and scarlet feathered cape. The bow and quiver he bore was quite ornate, being made of some kind of wood that appeared out of the ordinary with intricate carvings.

Murmurs were heard amongst parts of the spectators, preferably those in the royal court and nobles. This man was Jalabhar Xho, the prince and rightful heir to the Summer Isles. He had been in the court of King's Landing for a good number of years, trying to get a chance to reclaim his birthright after he was exiled through circumstances.

The next was a tall, short haired man with cleanly shaved features. He wore golden tanned leathers with a few metal plates on his person. On his person, people could see a pair of sigils. The first was on a metallic pin shaped like a shield as it was painted stark green with a double tressure of white around its borders. And lastly was the sigil of the Kingsguard on his breastplate.

This man is Preston Greenfield of the Kingsguard.

The last of them clearly stood out from among the rest… given it was a woman.

Not just any woman, but Princess Arianne of House Martell.

Changed out of her silky dresses, she wore something more akin to a dornish fighter like what her cousins usually wear. Leather vestments covered most of her upper body as she wore yellow garments underneath, which had come out as coat tails or even a battle skirt. Along her arms were leather vambraces and a matching pair appeared above her boots. And her silky, long black hair was tied back into a ponytail so it won't get in the way of obscuring her vision.

Upon seeing her out there, quite the number of people began muttering about her presence.

"Why is she out there?" Asked Margarey Tyrell, who presently sat amongst her family and handmaidens.

"No doubt wanting to surprise the rest of us with the display." Spoke Garlan.

"She's quite bold, I'll tell you that." Said Olenna with a look of approval.

"But can she back it up?"

The Martells, who sat near the Reach Household, overheard the comments and bore their own respectful smiles.

It was Nymor who spoke first, loud enough for their seated neighbors to hear. "While our cousin isn't the more physical fighter like the rest of us Sands, she is more like Sarella in that department."

Overhearing this, Sansa muttered out her thoughts for Arya to hear, given her sister was excited to see the Dornish princess compete in the present event.

"I remember she took up archery with her cousin Sarella." Sansa commented.

"Do you think she'll win?" Asked the younger Stark.

"Who knows for sure." Came Roxas' response. "It can be anybody's game. Some people may surprise us."

"I agree with Roxas." Said the Stark patriarch. "It's all about skill and experience in these events. Not to mention if they actually pay off in the field instead of being just for show."

Nods of understanding were given out as they soon witnessed the archery event unfold.

For the next hour, the competitors fired off their arrows at varying ranges. Scores were given when the judges inspected the targets and recorded the measurements from the dead center. There were some good shots from the skilled individuals at varying points. The crowds gave out their cheers and applause at certain points with bets being made on the side.

As time went on, other archers were picked off one by one. Some of them thought it wasn't fair and gave out complaints while others were more sportsman-like when they left the field.

For the final rounds of the event, a handful of people were left on the field with freshly made targets placed at the far end of the area. The individuals were as follows: Ser Preston Greenfield, Princess Arianne, Jalabhar Xho and two others.

The first of them was Ser Balon Swan, a strong looking man who bore the sigil of a black and white field mirroring each other. It was argent and sable with two swans countering each other on both sides.

The last one appeared to be a common-born man with a slight freckled face with a short, frizzled beard. When asked for his name and where he came from, the man gave his response. He was Anguy, a bowman from the Dornish Marches in the Stormlands.

Throughout most of the competition, Ned was scoping out some of the common born and bastard competitors like many of the nobles in attendance. With them having no full allegiance to any lord out there, the nobles want to see if they could bring them into their service.

And to the Lord Hand, he had such thoughts. Win or lose, Ned will approach this archer in particular and give out the offer to see if he could perhaps join his guard while in the capital. He will, of course, pay for his time and effort once he gives out his judgement after they converse with each other.

The final batch of targets were placed a hundred meters from where the competitors stood. The archers focused on their targets with their arrows having been drawn. They steadied their heartbeats and breathing while their arm muscles strained, waiting for the announcer to let loose their projectiles.

When the call was made, the arrows were let loose, letting them soar through the field and strike their respective bullseyes. This was done several times over to see the complete average each archer held.

Things were quite close on the final shots as most of the competitors were cool and collected. Anguy, however, was more driven and focused than the rest as his arrows landed dead center just about every time.

By the final draws, it appeared that Arianne and Anguy had tied given how well their shots were made. Yet it was the common born man who won in the very end by the very skin of his teeth.

Cheers were made when the announcement was delivered. The bowman from the Dornish Marches bore the biggest grin he could muster as it broke away the focused scowl he previously wore in the event.

The rest of the competitors gave their congratulations to Anguy in a courteous manner before they left the field. Yet Arianne trudged back a little as she spoke to him as they walked side by side.

"Congratulations. Those were quite the excellent shots."

"Thank you, princess. You were not so bad yourself."

"What are you planning on doing with your winnings?"

"Enjoying some pleasures one such as myself never experienced before."

The heir to Dorne nodded before her lips formed a coy grin. "Perhaps you should save such earnings."

"And why would I do that?" He asked in bewilderment.

"Cause I could give you something far better and you won't have to spend a single gold dragon at all~"

If one were to notice, they would see the common born bowman sporting a lecherous grin upon realizing what Arianne had to offer him.

Once the last of the archers vacated the field, trumpeting horns were heard throughout the area as the jousts were about to commence.

For the next few hours, the tilts went underway with what seemed to be a hundred knights and hedge knights going against each other. It will be a grand show of skill, entertaining the commoners and nobles alike. And there was no doubt many competitors will use this portion of the event to not only win glory through bashing their lances onto each other, but to woo any single noble lady in attendance while seeking to win the prize purse.

It was at this point in time did Roxas head on out so he may perform his patrol for Heartless and Unversed. Though he did stop by where the majority of competitors were located, waiting for their respective turns and wished those he knew the best of luck.

Shortly afterwards, Ned had to leave as he had some other matters to attend to, but promised to return as soon as possible. So both Stark girls hoped the tilts would entertain them long enough to not entirely miss their father's presence. Not to mention when Cloud will make his arrival when he switches out with Roxas.

It will be through the first half of the jousts that would be relatively normal enough with only a handful of injuries, but nothing too serious with time and rest to recover from.

When Cloud finally showed up, he used his time to relatively relax as he observed the tilts. He wasn't too interested unlike everyone else around him, but he did join in on the commentary every so often.

The Kingslayer rode brilliantly. He overthrew Ser Andar Royce and Marcher Lord Bryce Caron as easily as if he were riding at rings, then took a hard-fought match from Barristan Selmy.

The Hound fell to the Red Viper with such violence, Clegane seemed to fly off his horse and roughly landed in the dirt. It was only some matches afterwards did Oberyn end up being unseated by Ser Loras Tyrell. And through some whispers being caught in their ears did the Stark girls hear that Loras had avenged his eldest brother, Willas, for what occurred years ago with how he became a cripple.

When Oberyn later sat back with his family, who was neighboring them, did he voice his confirmation on the details. Of course he played it off as he wasn't too serious on the little revenge-like bout unlike most of the Tyrell retinue.

Later, a hedge knight in a chequered cloak disgraced himself by killing Beric Dondarrion's horse and was declared forfeit. The Lightning Lord put his saddle to a new mount and was promptly knocked off by his good friend Thoros of Myr.

Jory Cassel was quite the surprise as he appeared to be one of the participants in the event. The Stark girls remembered what Roxas revealed to them last night with the captain of the guard of their House wanting to court a lady. They soon figured this was the route he wanted to take, hoping to win the joust and crown this mystery lady in question as his Queen of Love and Beauty.

Jory was able to defeat Ser Horas Redwyne before unseating a member of House Frey. And after battling it out through three tilts, Jory was able to win over Lothor Brune by the skin of his teeth.

As the tilts went on, there had been many whispers and hushed talks about a particular person. And as much as many had wished it, they were sorely disappointed to learn Roxas would not take part in the joust. They had hoped the Keybearer would compete and possibly win just like his father nearly twenty years ago back at Harrenhal.

Through some circumstances, Ventus was able to be enlisted into the event at the very last minute. Match after match, the Keybearer was able to overcome his opponents left and right.

It was a tale sung by the bards for the many months that followed after his arrival, the newcomer that bested the best and greatest of Westeros.

There were some close calls with him almost falling off his steed, like him facing off Ser Barristan Selmy and another of the Kingsguard. Upon reaching the final match against Prince Rhaegar, the event was quite intense as to what the songs spoke with how the Last Dragon was unseated by the infamous newcomer.

With crowning the one who would be his Queen of Love and Beauty, he had given the blue rose crown to both Princess Elia and her daughter Rhaenys, who was seated on her lap at the time.

Many had cheered on this back then while others were seemingly hushed on Ventus crowning the wife of the recently unseated prince. But it was wondered what the results could've been if the Keybearer crowned someone else if the results could more or less be the same.

One such thing which floated about was the possibility of Cersei Lannister almost being crowned as the Queen of Love and Beauty, given the amount of time she spent with Ventus back then.

In all honesty, Sansa wasn't the only one surprised on hearing this little detail as Myrcella quickly turned to her mother to hear the confirmation. And the result was a "neither confirm nor deny".

On Sansa's end, she had also wished for Roxas to take part of the tilts. He might also be able to win the competition and crown someone as his Queen of Love and Beauty. If that were to happen, many would see him crown Myrcella as they were betrothed and will become a wonderful start to their eventual marriage.

In the fantasies of Sansa, however, it turned out differently.

Roxas riding on a great steed, wearing the finest armor the Seven Kingdoms would have ever seen; let alone forged. In his possession would be the crown of blue roses, seeking out the woman who caught his eye and won his affection most of all. He commands his horse to reach the stands before hopping off to walk towards the attendees.

At the end of the fantasy, Sansa saw Roxas place the crown of roses onto her head before pulling her close as their lips met with much passion behind it all.

It reminded her much of the act she performed last night, making her bring up her finger tips right to her lips in hopes of feeling the lingering touch once more.

Such a kiss did in fact give her quite the happy slumber last night with even a happier dream.

Releasing a yearning sigh, Sansa's eyes wandered about as the next tilt was getting prepared. In this little trip, her gaze met with Joffrey's as he narrowed his eyes and broke away to meet with someone else's.

Prince Joffrey had not spoken a word to Sansa at all for quite some time, who dared not speak back to him in return. The young Lady of Winterfell was thankful his attention was taken up by Lady Margaery, well as far as she noticed.

"Lover's quarrel?"

Sansa was startled at the man speaking towards from behind, sneaking up on her per say just to whisper in her ear. It was rather unsettling to her.

When this occurred, both Lady and Nymeria suddenly growled at the new arrival, putting things at a tense edge.

It was understandable with Nymeria, but Lady was quite the surprise as she was often quiet and reserved. So seeing her act such a way was rather surprising. Sansa trained Lady to be good and she never growled at anyone before… well except for Joffrey once.

So if Lady growled in such a way, such as how Nymeria does it, then there had to be a good reason for it.

Once quieting and comforting the direwolves down, the Stark sisters had to apologize for the recent action.

"It's quite alright." Said the new arrival. "I honestly should've come through a different approach when speaking. Apparently I'll never have any luck dealing with wolves."

Neither Sansa or Arya understood this very well as there had to be an underlying meaning to it. They could practically feel it.

Not wanting to be rude, Sansa remembered her lessons and spoke to him. "I'm sorry. Do I…?"

"Sansa dear, this is Lord Baelish." Septa Mordane stated. "He's known-"

"An old friend of the family." Petyr interrupted. "I've known your mother a long, long time."

Arya looked up at the man curiously. "Why do they call you Littlefinger?"

"Arya!" Exclaimed the septa. "Don't be rude!"

Sansa had to suppress snorting, even a little one, knowing her sister would be blunt and straight to the point. But she did have a point that her curiosity got the better of her on the supposed nickname.

"It's quite alright, septa." Petyr said with a smile. "When I was a child, I was very small and I came from a little spit of land called The Fingers. So you see, it's an exceedingly clever nickname."

It was from this did Sansa hear some snorts from Cloud and their Martell and Tyrell neighbors as they seemed to know more about the nickname than the Stark girls ever did.

"I've been sitting here for days! Start the next joust before I piss myself!" Bellowed King Robert from his spot at the stands.

Soon after this was spoken, Queen Cersei shot a glare at her husband at such an intensity that could possibly cripple a man. From there, she stood up from her seat and left.

Soon enough, there came the tilt which would terrify the Stark girls and a number of their close companions.

The competitors rode forward on their horses, one of which quickly drew in the disbelief attention of the Stark girls.

He was a giant of a man who wore large thick armor. It's dark surface seemingly sucked all light around it and the only other coloration there was-was the yellow surcoat with three black dogs on it. And the immensely large man presently rode on a mighty war horse in order to properly hold his mighty size and weight.

"Gods, who is that?" Sansa inquired.

"Ser Gregor Clegane. They call him the Mountain." Peter supplied. "The Hound's older brother."

It was at this moment did the sisters whip their heads towards the Hound, who stood behind Prince Joffrey with a scowl on his face. But it seemed a bit more fierce than the usual one he wore every day.

From there, they looked over towards the Martells and saw the furious look on their expressions. Even their bodies appeared rather tense to the utmost degree. And it seemed to take all their willpower to hold themselves back from leaping off the stands and attacking Gregor in front of everyone in attendance.

It didn't take more than a second to remember how much the Mountain meant to the Martells after what he'd done to their late relatives.

Sansa did wonder why such rapist and child murder was worthy of fighting alongside many honorable men, let alone participating such a tourney with little to no issues. And she wouldn't be the only one as Cloud had similar thoughts.

Yet the Blonde Wolf pretty much knew better. Gregor had the backing of his liege lord -Tywin Lannister- making the giant mad dog seemingly untouchable. And when he glanced over to Oberyn, he saw the intense and fierce look the Viper bore in wanting to take the Mountain down one way or another by his own hands.

The Elder Stark sister did speak to her father on the incident and details after Arianne spoke to her of it in the throne room. It was no doubt a hard discussion to go through at the time as it opened old wounds from the Stark patriarch.

Breaking their gaze away from the Dornish household, Cloud and the Stark sisters looked towards the man who was going to go up against the infamous Mountain.

His armor was shiny and new with hardly a scratch or scuff upon its surface. The blue cloak bore the sigil of the Vale, signifying his allegiance to House Arryn.

"And his opponent?" Asked Sansa.

"Ser Hugh of the Vale. He was Jon Arryn's squire. Look how far he's come." Petyr informed her.

Robert waved away the contestants, wanting to get to the action at hand. "Yes, yes. Enough of the bloody pomp. Have at it!"

The two combatants rode off to the opposing sides of the jousting fence. Once reaching their spots, the horn was blown, allowing the riders to commence the match.

The first pass takes its course with no decisive winner as the Mountain's lance grazed Ser Hugh's arm. On the second pass, however, there was one as Gregor rode victoriously.

Instead of Ser Hugh falling off his steed in the traditional manner of being knocked off, he was struck down as the jousting lance impacted the shield, broke and kept on moving so a large splinter would pierce Hugh's neck. Once he fell, a gush of blood came up into the air as it fell back down onto the Vale knight's face…

All in front of where the Stark sisters sat.

"Oh my god!" Sansa cried out, turning away from the bloody scene.

Arya merely sat there wide eyed and frozen in shock.

Others around them winced at Ser Hugh's death.

While it wasn't entirely uncommon in tourneys, death wasn't pleasant to look at.

Sansa and Arya never seen a man die before and thought to have been crying, yet the tears would not come no matter how hard they tried. Same can't be exactly said from some of the handmaidens who were in attendance which they openly wept like Jeyne, Mira and Sera.

To the Stark sisters, he was just some stranger from the Vale, despite once squiring the late Lord Jon Arryn. In time the world would forget his name as there would be no songs sung for him.

"W-Why doesn't someone help him?" Arya stammered out. She looked towards Cloud with a pleaful look. "Can't you use your magic-"

"There's nothing that could be done." Cloud bitterly said. "Such a thing can't be healed all that well. Sorry you two had to see that. It's never a pretty thing to experience at all."

The sisters shakily nodded as they watched a number of pages hurried out and dragged the freshly made corpse out of the field. As this happened, a few others cleaned up the mess so the next part of the competition can properly commence. In that time, the Mountain rode off while the Hound still snarled at his older brother's form.

Cloud did make a mental note for him to tell Ned on what happened so he may talk to his daughters, comforting them on what transpired.

"Quite the cruel means to prove his reputation." Spoke Petyr. "Death and violence follows him wherever he goes. It's quite the rarity when it never occurs."

"Which is hardly at all." Cloud commented. "The man craves it like a drunkard with their drink or someone utterly addicted to sex."

"Speaking from experience?"

"I've faced quite a lot of people who've been like that." Petyr silently nodded as the swordsman continued. "But unlike them who mindlessly attack others for a lust for battle and acting on instincts, Gregor knew what he was doing."

This piqued the Master of Coin's interest. "Oh? How so?"

"It was the way he targeted Hugh on the second go around. I noticed the way Gregor was aiming towards his neck since the armor is more exposed there. Either he wanted to severely wound him once knocking him off or killing him with such force, only we can really speculate. But in the end it was murder by happenstance."

Littlefinger merely smirked, no doubt impressed by the mercenary's deduction skills. Petyr hadn't really taken part of it in consideration due to how quick things went.

After a few moments of silence, the Master of Coin voiced an inquiry. "Has anyone ever told you the story of the Mountain and the Hound?"

Sansa and Arya, who was barely coming out of her shock, listened in as Petyr spoke. Even Cloud paid attention to the tale, wanting to sate his curiosity.

"Lovely little tale of brotherly love. The Hound was just a pup, six years old maybe while Gregor was a few years older. Take note that he was already a big lad and getting a bit of a reputation. Some lucky boys just born with a talent for violence. One evening, Gregor found his little brother playing with a toy by the fire… Gregor's toy, a wooden knight. Gregor never said a word, he just grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck and shoved his face into the burning coals. Held him there while Sandor screamed, all the while his face melted. There aren't very many people who know that story. I recommend you don't speak to the Hound about it or else you'd hardly be protected by his wrath."

Sansa and Arya bore horrified looks on their faces by the end of it as they were outright appalled sometime afterwards.

Cloud merely wore a deeper scowl than he usually did, learning the mad giant was quite the monster even in his youth. He had heard rumors of the Clegane household had covered up a number of disappearances in their territory, all due to Gregor's actions to sate his bloodlust throughout the years.

With a number of strings being pulled, Gregor was knighted by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen himself. And the Mountain repaid the crown prince on the action by killing and raping his wife and children during the Sack of King's Landing.

Cloud silently swore he would take down this giant a number of pegs, just to show that his size and strength didn't matter. And if needed, he'd just rid the world of him. The Blonde Wolf had taken down bigger opponents and he didn't care if Oberyn would have a hissy fit if he got to him first. Let alone whatever consequences there are, due to Gregor being Tywin's attack dog.

And with the Stark girls, neither sister didn't know if they wanted to delve more into the subject as they didn't feel like talking any more for a while.

Time had passed as the final three matches were soon to commence after a long break for everyone to get some more food, drink and relieve themselves with whatever privileges were available.

As this came about, Ned had made his return from his duties and fulfilled his promise to Sansa and Arya. As he did so, Roxas was by his side as he finished his long shift of protecting the tourney grounds from both Heartless and Unversed.

When they returned to the stands, both saw Sansa and Arya were a tad quiet and shaken up; despite them covering it up in some manners. One of which was catching them constantly petting their direwolves for comfort.

"Did anything occur while we were away?" Ned asked Cloud.

"Yeah, Sansa and Arya just witnessed their first death." Came the blunt response from the Swordsman.

Both Ned and Roxas stiffened on the proclamation before the former demanded to know what happened. The blonde mercenary obliged, giving a rundown on what happened with Ser Hugh dying by the Mountain.

Upon learning of this, a number of questions formed in the Stark patriarch's head. Yet he shoved them aside for now as he sat in between his daughters and hugged them. In an instant, they latched onto them as he sweetly comforted them.

"I'm so sorry you had to witness such a thing." Ned said to them. "I should've held off on my duties a while longer."

While Ned had no problems for his sons to witness death, as it was the nature of things in this world, he thought differently when it came to his daughters. The Warden of the North wanted his boys to become men one day, yet like any father he wanted his daughters to still be his little girls. He wanted to shield them from certain dark things this world contained and death was one of them; especially in such a gruesome manner.

Call it selfish and unfair, but being a father is often a complicated manner.

With Roxas, he knelt before the sisters and gave them his sincere apologies. Of course the two girls had momentarily broke away from their father to hug the Keybearer as they said their respective "thank you" to him. Though Sansa held onto him much longer.

In a brief moment, Roxas wondered if a repeat of last night were to happen given how close they really were. He ended up blushing at the memory and tried to not have his face near hers when she soon broke away. The moment she witnessed his reddening face, she broke away and became bashful as a result.

As this happened, the pair learned who were the finalists of the jousts: the Mountain, Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Jamie Lanniser and surprisingly enough Jory Cassel.

In all honesty, Ned never knew his captain of the guard entered in the tilts, let alone seeing him reach this far into the tourney. The Warden will no doubt wanna have some words with him, asides from giving his congratulations on his skill and luck.

When more of the attendees returned, Roxas was greeted by some of the Martells as they soon sat back down.

"Ah, Roxas. Good to see you've made it back. Just in time for the finals, no less." The Red Viper said with a boisterous smile.

"Sorry, Oberyn, but I had to keep the area safe for everyone in attendance." Roxas said, patting the Prince on the shoulder.

"Yes, with there being so many here all in one place, chaos would break out if an attack were to occur."

"It would not be pretty, I'll tell you that." Cloud added in.

Roxas gave an agreeing nod before giving his congratulations to Arianne on winning second place in the archery competition. And when hearing on how far Oberyn got to in the tilts, he did apologize on reaching further.

Oberyn merely waved him off with a smile, even if it hid the frustration he bore as he didn't get the chance to go up against Gregor.

If he couldn't face him today, he will no doubt face him tomorrow in the melee.

Once Roxas greeted the other members of the Martell household, he eventually conversed with the recently returned Tyrells so he could voice his praise of learning Loras reaching the finals.

Each of them did give the Keybearer their compliments, but did state Loras would really appreciate it in hearing it directly from him. After all, Loras admires Roxas and even his father on their valor and his confidence would soar. But they did ask not to swell up his ego too much or else it might ruin him one way or another.

From what Roxas learned, Ser Loras was able to unseat three members of the Kingsguard during the competition. And with each victory he gained, the Knight of Flowers would remove his helm, ride slowly around the fence, pluck out a rose from his white steed's decoration and give it to some fair maiden in the crowd. One of which was given to his sister while another was to Sansa, especially after what she witnessed with Ser Hugh's tragic death in hopes of comforting her.

Roxas will no doubt thank the Tyrell knight for the appreciated gesture to his friend.

The horns soon trumpeted, signaling the start of the finals.

It took less than a minute for everyone to be seated for the first round to commence.

The competitors of this bout were between Jamie and Loras. It was quite an exciting match as neither one held nothing back. They went through fast charges and risky lunges, despite their disciplined training with their lances. In the end though, Loras gained the upper hand and unseated Jamie, winning his place in the final round.

"So much for the Kingslayer." Muttered Cloud, earning a few chuckles from his seated neighbors.

When Loras' steed passed by them in order to give a rose to Princess Arianne, Cloud picked up an odd scent from the Reach horse. He thought it was weird at first, thinking it was merely just the many flowers Loras had decorated his horse with. But something didn't exactly sit right with him.

Before he could dwell more on the matter, the next round was set up and about to commence.

From both ends of the field, Jory Cassel and Gregor Clegane were ready to set their mounts off and carry them into battle. While the Mountain didn't think much on the matter, Winterfell's Captain of the Guard was greatly attempting to steel himself on what he's about to face. And as much as he wanted to wipe his face away from the building sweat, he kept his helmet on in order to help hide his nervousness.

He prayed to the Old Gods that he may survive this bout.

When the signal was given, their mounts took off.

Both combatants quickly aimed their lances at their opponent and had them set firmly in place. Their steeds speeded down the dirt filled track. And Jory gripped his shield with all his might, more so when Gregor's lance rocketed right at him. It soon clashed against him and Jory nearly fell off his horse due to the immense strength his opponent bore. And his lance merely grazed the Mountain as this occurred.

When they went on their next tilt, the same set of moments occurred. Jory could feel his shield arm strain from the pain he was receiving and didn't know if he could last much longer.

It was on the third tilt did the captain of the guard of House Stark fell from his horse as the lance crashed against his helmet.

A shrill scream was made from several parts in the crowd with gasps trying and failing to cover it up. Many wondered if Jory Cassel was dead from the sudden blow.

Roxas was the first to appear by his side, carefully prying off the helmet in case of anything. After casting Cure on Jory, the Keybearer lifted the man's head to check if there was any blood that came out from the back.

Turning to the crowd, Roxas reported his inspection.

"Jory's alright, he's just unconscious from the fall."

Quite the large number of people exhaled their sighs of relief, more so for those of the Stark retinue.

Jory was a dear member of the household, perhaps considered an honorary family member with House Cassel being trusted bannermen for years.

Roxas helped pry the unconscious Jory off the ground and dragged him off the field with many giving applause on the action.

As this happened, the Keybearer looked back at Gregor and gritted his teeth as this dark feeling welled up inside of him.

His mind momentarily flashed to the blood soaked cloaks hiding the dead bodies of three particular people. No. XIII flinched to himself, blinking rapidly as those images dissipated from his mind.

Roxas didn't know why he was thinking such things, let alone feeling such away after witnessing Jory almost dying.

All he can do now was get him some proper medical attention before and see things through before making his return to see the final match.

Speaking of, Loras and Gregor were presenting themselves in front of the king and bowing before him. Once done, they commanded their mounts to move towards the opposite sides of the track.

Yet as this happened, Gregor's warhorse seemed to act oddly, something which Cloud was able to pick up on.

The moment Roxas made his return by the Starks, Sansa hurriedly grabbed her father's arm with quite the worried expression. "Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him. I can't watch."

Ned soon tried to assure her worries, no doubt greatly concerned with what happened today because of the Mountain.

Roxas was able to help assist in this little endeavour. "Hey, I doubt anything will happen with how things turned out recently."

"I surely hope so, Roxas." Ned added in.

Behind them, Petyr Baelish decides to make things more interesting. "A hundred dragons on the Mountain."

Renly sat up straighter with a cheeky smile on his face. "I'll take that bet."

"Now what will I buy with a hundred gold dragons? A dozen barrels of Dornish wine? Or a girl from the pleasure houses of Lys?" Baelish exclaims in a flourish manner.

"Or you could buy yourself a friend." Oberyn added in.

"He surely needs one of those." Finished off Garlan.

This elicited a number of chuckles from the surrounding spectators.

"He's going to die." Sansa said in utter worry.

"He's not gonna die, right father?" Asked Arya.

In all honesty, Ned did not have the proper answer to respond with. Not in time anyway when the trumpets bellowed out their sound, signaling the final match to commence.

The horses galloped, their hooves leaving behind trails in the dirt. Loras and Gregor clashed twice with both lances that they had broken several times at one point. Those with sharp and analytical eyes spotted how the Tyrell horse had to be reigned in several times and focus on running properly.

On this final tilt, Loras performed the astonishing feat of unseating the Mountain that Rides to a resounding cheer from the crowd.

Some had also gasped in disbelief whilst Renly laughed triumphantly alongside most of the Tyrell and Martell households. With a sudden urge to gloat, the Master of Laws turned on Baelish.

"Such a shame, Littlefinger. It would have been so nice for you to have a friend."

Petyr, however, was quick on the comeback. "And tell me, Lord Renly, when will you be having your friend?"

It was at this point did Sansa and a few other women nearby gain questioning looks on their faces. The men, however, were quick to realize it.

"What did he mean by that?" Arya innocently asked.

Not wanting to make a bit of a spectacle, Cloud leaned into the young She-wolf's ear and spoke into it.

"It's because those two are lovers."

Upon hearing this detail, along with Sansa, Arya wore a look that screamed "WTF".

"Oh you know about that?" Oberyn said aloud to the Blonde Wolf.

"It was easy to actually notice."

"Huh, you get to learn something new every day." Was Roxas' input as he overheard that particular bit of information.

This bit of declaration got Renly, who quickly figured on what they were talking about, to shrink down a little in his seat.

"I was surprised about it too a while back when they visited Dorne some years ago." Arianne stated in an off handed manner. "Thought it was adorable how they tried to hide it."

At this point Renly wanted to bury his head in the dirt and die on the not-too-well kept secret being exposed. This of course earned a wide grin from the Master of Coins, seeing his fellow Councilman in such a state.

Some from the Tyrell household merely exhaled some frustrated sighs, wishing the gods will grant them mercy on this embarrassing endeavour.

While Dorne was more open on their sexual views, the Reach were considered runner ups. It wasn't the first time members of their territories favored the same gender over the opposite. Yet they were at least better in keeping it behind closed doors in comparison to their Dornish neighbors.

"What I do question now is why Gregor's horse is still acting up." Muttered Ned.

"It's because Loras' mount, which is a mare, is in heat."

Cloud's assessment earned a chuckle from Petyr. "Keen observation, Strife."

"It's an underhanded move, yet sadly a smart one in most competitions. An annoying one at that."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Sadly yes."

Cloud had taken part in quite the number of Chocobo races in the past. And with him obtaining knowledge in having to raise such a creature, he had to at least know of their mating cycles. More so after some races when his one Chocobo mount was greatly riled up when he was facing off against some other racers. It was after some matches did he find out the cheating tactics to earn some extra Munny.

Sansa was quick in wanting to defend Loras' honor. "He would never do that! There's no honor in tricks."

"That's true, but sadly one does so in the real world."

As Cloud gave his little statement, Gregor got up from the ground and shouted at his squire to bring him his greatsword.

Not wanting to piss off the frightening man he served and possibly die as a result, the squire came running in with his sheathed sword almost at his very own size and presented it to his lord.

Grasping onto the handle, Gregor unstheated the enormous blade. Once the weapon was free, he brought it down in an overhead arc and struck his warhorse's neck.

The painful neigh was heard throughout the entire field, more so once the second swing came in as Gregor killed his mount.

"Bloody hell!" Garlan gasped.

"Why'd he do that?" Asked Nymor in stunned horror.

"I can think of a reason why." Spoke the Dornish bastard's father. Next to Lewyn, his nephew seized up with him seemingly ready to jump forward at the opportunity to take out Gregor.

From his placement on the stands, Tywin bore a deep frown, not liking where this was going at all. If things actually followed through on Gregor's soon-to-be action, the Reach will practically be calling out for blood and declare war on the Westerlands. And with the Martells present distaste for him and his family, they'd be quick to ally with the Tyrells to see it succeed.

In an instant, Gregor stampede towards Loras and quickly knocked him off his horse. The white mare soon took off, leaving it's rider defenseless as it sought to save it's own life.

The mad Clegane was seeing red as he stepped forward, brandishing his great sword towards the downed Tyrell knight.

Loras was crawling away with eyes widened with fear at the sight of the Mountain raising his blade.

Many shouts and screams were now being heard as they all knew what the towering knight intended on doing. Garlan was ready to jump down to the field in order to protect his younger brother while Oberyn was gonna tag along to hopefully enact his long overdue vengeance. And if that wasn't enough, Sandor already drew out his sword in order to stop his bastard of an older brother.

Suffice to say, nearly everyone watched in terror as the Mountain raised his blade overhead and swung it down with all his might.

Loras could only raise a hand as a futile means of defense and waited for the inevitable.

However, the sword never came.

In fact… the entire crowd went dead silent.

Having closed his eyes, the Knight of the Flowers cracked one eye open to see someone completely different standing in front of him.

This man was tall and upon seeing the blond, spiky hair made him instantly recognizable to all who have seen him within King's Landing.

Everyone watched in rapt attention as the man known as Cloud Strife stood in front of the Mountain with an air that exuded intimidation and danger.

The Mountain however was practically seething by this point, not at all realizing that his sword had been stopped.

And by Cloud catching it with his bare, leather-clad hand no less.

The glare that he gave to the Knight was something that many would have fled at the sight of. With his unique blue-green eyes slowly becoming slitted as the color seemingly intensified.

Gregor growled defiantly, trying to pry his great sword out of Cloud's grasp, yet the slightly smaller man didn't even budge. In fact, the Mountain jolted about slightly at his failed attempts of getting back his weapon from this mercenary.

After a few more failed attempts, Cloud finally spoke.

"I'm not impressed."

With a single twitch of his hand muscles, Cloud snapped Gregor's weapon in half!

A moment later, Cloud booted the Mountain in the chest and caused the man to fly across the field.

The entire crowd held their breath as they watched what many at one point considered to be the strongest man in Westeros get sent up in the air like he was a piece of parchment.

After what seemed like an eternity, Gregor Clegane crashed down to the ground hard with his rattling armor echoing across the field.

The man that so many feared had just been brought down in an emphatic way that many would not forget.

Of course, being the crazed and blood lusted man that he was known to be, Ser Gregor wasn't about to let a mercenary humiliate him.

Just as he was about to return to his feet, he felt a strong boot press itself down upon him where he was kicked and forcibly shoved him back down to the ground. The force behind such a simple move was caving more of his breastplate into his chest than it already has from the earlier blow.

His dazed expression cleared and he blinked upon seeing the gargantuan broadsword utilized by Cloud being held down to his neck.

"Try it." Cloud said coldly. "Give me a reason and I'll show you how small and pathetic of a man you really are."

Gregor wanted to fight back, he wanted to show this mercenary bastard just who it was he was dealing with.

But this man's strength exceeded his own.

He had never experienced or dealt with someone that was able to outclass his strength.

Well… not in a long time really.

But here, just now, this no name mercenary just embarrassed him in front of the entire realm and all its Lords and Ladies including the King and Queen themselves.

Him!

Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides!

"I know what you're thinking."

Cloud's words somehow snapped the Mountain from his thoughts.

"And your little red face says it all." Cloud's tone was emotionless and deadly. "But make any false moves that don't involve you walking away and you lose your head."

Gregor clenched his teeth, fury dancing across his expression.

In response to receiving such a look, Cloud simply pressed the edge of his blade up to the man's chins.

"Well?"

He hated it.

He loathed it to his core.

But for once, someone other than Tywin Lannister forced him to reign in his bloodlust.

Leaning his head back, he kept his glare present but showed that he was backing down.

"Good dog." Cloud remarked.

He pushed his boot down upon the bruise that was now underneath Gregor's armor that had formed from the early kick to the chest. The knight grunted aloud in pain, feeling his body spasm at the pain.

"You try something like that again and you won't live to see another day." Cloud said, lifting his foot off the man and placing his Fusion Sword on his back.

Never before has Gregor ever felt such a burning desire to run his blade through a man's body and crush his head as if it were a grape.

Yet he wasn't a fool.

A mindless monster or mad dog for the Lion of The Rock.

No, he would bide his time.

This bastard will get what's coming to him when the time comes. If not today, then probably the melee tomorrow if this blonde bastard were to participate. And if not then, then surely later on.

As he stood and walked away as best as he could with a hand placed over his chest, Loras Tyrell had at last stood back to his feet and approached the blond swordsmen.

"You saved my life." Loras whispered in gratitude.

Cloud gave him a neutral gaze before turning away.

"No need to make it dramatic, kid." Cloud dismissed, about to go back to where Roxas and the Starks were when he felt the Knight place a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait."

Not realizing what Loras was planning, Cloud found his hand being raised by the Tyrell with the crowd exploding with shouts of adulation.

He flicked his hand out of the grasp of the knights hand and gave him a flat look that clearly showed that he was unamused.

Loras however appeared nonplussed by the look and shot him a cheeky grin as he patted the man's shoulder.

"I am in your debt, Ser knight."

"Do I need to remind you again that I'm not a knight?" Cloud flatly responded.

Within the stands, Margaery released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and squeezed her older brother's hand for comfort which he returned.

"Seven Hells." Garlan muttered to himself.

With the Starks, Sansa was also feeling a great deal of relief at the sight of bloodshed being averted.

Arya was simply in awe.

"Did you see that?" The young She-Wolf was practically jumping from her seat. "He kicked him across the field like he was a toy."

Robert Baratheon openly guffawed at what was just seen.

"You've brought some interesting individuals to the Capital, Ned." The King chortled aloud from his seat. "Seeing the Mountain get knocked to his ass is something many will not be forgetting any time soon. Not as invincible as he likened himself to be."

Tywin internally bristled at these comments though he made no intention of countering such a statement.

King Robert was right of course, loathe as he was to admit it.

This Cloud Strife just showed that his mad dog that many had feared for decades was no longer as untouchable as many had once thought he would be.

He booted him across the field as if he were a discarded toy.

The Old Lion had seen the unrelenting rage his dog had towards the man and silently prayed to all of the gods that he wasn't as foolish as to try to defeat a man who had just shown how much more powerful he was in terms of strength compared to him. Thankfully, for once, cooler heads prevailed in regards to the one called Gregor Clegane.

Much as Tywin knew that the Mountain would wish for revenge, he knew it would not come easy.

Like Roxas, this man has developed quite the reputation amongst the people of King's Landing.

He was seen a great deal around the Keybearer as well as the Starks and the Martells and King Robert appears to speak highly of him.

Speaking of the Martells, their approval for how Cloud had dispatched a man they hated with a burning passion was clear as day for all to see.

"He should have done more." Lewyn muttered underneath his breath for only his family to hear.

"And ruin the chance of us having our own fun with him?" Oberyn sarcastically asked, a sadistically satisfied face at the sight of the Mountain limping around the field. "Come now, Uncle Lewyn. Why can't we be a bit more selfish?"

"Don't smile too much like that, Uncle." Arianne remarked, a coy smile in place. "Elliara might not enjoy the rapt attention you're giving to that beast."

"Oh no my dear." Her Uncle's Paramour shook her head. "Let him enjoy this."

"Don't encourage him, Elliara." Nymor said jokingly.

As much as Oberyn loved the event unfold before him, the Viper was quite peeved towards the mercenary. It felt like a slight towards him for he wanted to do the act himself.

Unfortunately, Martell practically lacked the necessary skill Cloud possessed to pull such a feat.

If it weren't for the fact he was friends with the Blonde Wolf -in his perspective- then Oberyn would not be so forgiving.

Still, he was patient.

For nearly two decades, the Red Viper had waited for the day he would avenge his sister's death and the loss of his niece and nephew.

What's a bit more of time to a snake that has the wisdom of patience?

He undoubtedly would tell his older brother about this play.

Skilled as Doran was at keeping his emotions in check, Oby knew that he would have his own feeling of satisfaction with the news of Gregor's humbling at a Tourney in King's Landing no less.

Doran with his plans, growing and developing over time. Like a blood orange which grows back in Dorne, they are truly delicious when just ripe.

Unless the time to properly pluck them comes too late.

Far too many opportunities have been wasted by his brother's over patience.

But right here, right now, a number of them are all too good to ignore and pass up. There will not be any other chances like this occurring ever again.

For now, however, Oberyn will enjoy this moment of embarrassment towards both the Mountain and Tywin Lannister and greatly savor it. And to his present knowledge, nothing will spoil this feeling.

-Hours Later-

With the events ending for the day, the stands emptied slowly with the commoners began their long walk home. Though a large number did stop by the tents where the food and drink was being freely given so they may not go hungry this day. Not only will their bellies carry some well deserved nurishment, but also the latest gossip and news of what occurred this day.

As for the majority of the competitors, they made it back to their respective lodgings to clean themselves up after the long day before making it back to another field near the riverside. It was there they reunited with many lords, ladies and other people of varying levels of importance as they presently occupied several large tents which were grouped together.

Inside each of the tents were several large tables overflowing with food. Several large boars which had been roasted in goose fat with apples shoved into their mouths, served on a bed of green leaves, red beats and pine nuts.

Silver trays were loaded down with thick slices of venison, bowls were filled with spiced boiled eggs and there were plates topped with dozens of baked pies, filled with venison, bork, beef and rabbit meat and were stuffed with vegetables such as peas, onions and carrots. There was even a good morsel of honeyed and spiced chicken. Complimenting some of the meals was an assortment of cheeses and breads.

There were several trout as well, some were baked in clay which Roxas and even Cloud ended up helping a good number of people in cracking the surface due to their unique strength.

The rest of the trout was either rubbed in hot spices from the free cities that made one's tongue burn -which Roxas and the Dornish found delightful- or were wrapped in sweet bacon or were coated and baked in bread crumbs.

Upon Roxas' and Cloud's suggestion and guidance, a good number of people wondered why they never fried up potatoes wedges in grease before as they were topped off with salt and an assortment of cheese and sauces.

And there were cakes and pies and tarts as well, lemon cakes topped with lavender icing and frosted with a sugary substance. Honey cakes that were drowning in the sweet stuff and sticky to the touch. There were blackberry cakes that were moist to the touch and filled one's mouth with flavour. The tarts were filled with lemon curd, blackberry jam and sweetened pumpkin.

There was wine and ale by the dozen, dornish reds and arbour golds and sweet summer wines as well. The ale was dark and the mead was sweet and stucky. And the servants will no doubt keep filling up the cups throughout the evening.

Needless to say, it would not be long until the people in the tent would all be well and truly drunk.

Yet the Stark girls and a good handful of others will not be drunk in the traditional sense. Instead of being drunk from wine, it would be through the magic of this night.

"This suit feels weird." Roxas remarked to himself, tugging on the collar of his fancy suit he currently wore.

"Then why are you wearing it?" Cloud asked, standing next to the Keybearer with his arms crossed.

"Why aren't you wearing anything?" Roxas shot back. "Didn't Ned ask ya to dress for the occasion?"

"Thanks but no thanks, I don't do dress up." Cloud said offhandedly. "Besides, I'm a mercenary in the eyes of these douchebags. What makes you think I care about how I look to them, your Grace?"

Roxas groaned aloud at that last question before annoyingly rotating his shoulders as the suit moved about him uncomfortably.

It was a plain black overcoat with a bright gold trim in the center and bottom edges. The only other color present along the cloth was the Lannister red along the cuffs. From there, silver embroidery work was done along the shoulders depicting roaring lions and along the neckline was of mighty deer antlers. There was a large belt wrapped around his waist, making his already snug outfit tighter as it is, along with the freshly made boots that haven't been broken in yet. And to finish off the attire, there were some decorative chains hanging around his collar.

"Who thought of this thing?" Roxas asked himself. "This is ridiculous."

Cloud shrugged silently as the two were in the middle of the feast at hand.

After a while of just sitting from table to table of the assortment of guests here, the duo opted to take the time to walk around the area together.

For one, it was to get some distance and some time to themselves from all these nobles and the other being this served as a makeshift patrol.

In their line of work, they've seen all too often that uninvited guests loved to make themselves known in a time where they weren't wanted.

Then again, most of the time, uninvited guests seldom are wanted.

For the most part, the festivities went on undisturbed.

Let's hope it remained that way.

As the duo went about their stroll, they had naturally drawn many looks in their direction.

One of which being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Cersei looked over to where the pair of blonde warriors were located and bore some mixed feelings as her twin brother recounted the events she missed out on earlier today.

"I swear to you, sister, you missed out on an astounding event."

"I probably have, given it's been the talk of the evening."

"If I didn't witness it myself, I would've thought of it as an utter farce. And yet I was gaping like an utter trout like just about everyone else seeing Cloud treat Gregor like an utter fool."

Cersei said nothing as she gazed at the blonde fighters once more.

Like their father, the queen was quite displeased with how Strife treated her family's attack dog. It made Gregor a laughing stock now, degrading him from the knight many feared from as the local boogeyman for nearly two decades.

But his association and apparent friendship with Roxas…

She would let it slide for now.

Speaking of, she found her soon to be good-son rather fetching. She was proud in commissioning the attire he presently wore, symbolizing the means of him marrying into the royal family as best as possible. It turned out marvelous as there was hardly any issue at all. Yet by the reaction she was witnessing, there could've been some fixes on a number of places.

Regardless of his attire, the queen can't wait for Roxas to wear proper clothing for his new status as a prince. Showing the world his might and glory for the royal family.

Of course, such thoughts were shoved aside as her mind drifted towards the Blonde Wolf for the upteenth time.

"Do you not realize what that man has done to our reputation?" Cersei asked, turning away from Roxas and Cloud at last.

"Oh I know quite well, sister. And so does father. I already know that he's seething. But on the level of fierceness, I am absolutely clueless."

"This will no doubt be talked about for weeks." Cersei said, side eyeing a group of drunkards who were clearly recreating what they had seen earlier.

"Indeed."

To be honest with himself, the first born son of Tywin Lannister was quite giddy in wanting to cross swords with Cloud Strife tomorrow on top of Roxas, as he knows they both are competing in the melee.

The two are becoming a new batch of warriors of the times and the Kingslayer wanted a proper bout with them. No training, no holding back. He wanted to experience fighting against them one way or another and spars can only go so far.

Of course his anticipation did wane a little upon witnessing how easily Cloud toppled the Mountain with just a simple kick. It almost made him not want him to fight the Blonde Wolf.

Yet the Kingsguard member wasn't the only person here that wanted to fight the mercenary.

Jamie glanced towards the side and saw Sandor eating his poultry with much gusto this time around in his own little corner.

Of course the Hound would be in high spirits.

The Kingslayer wasn't blind to the intense hatred the scarred Clegane held towards his older brother.

As to why the brothers held such animosity towards each other, Jamie never bothered to learn about it.

It wasn't his business as curious as he was.

What he did know was that Sandor carried quite the grudge over the years and wanted to take down his brother a number of pegs himself.

And yet Cloud was the one to beat him to it in such a public display.

If Jamie were to guess, the Hound would want to fight the Blonde Wolf in order to get back what was stolen from him. The chance to defeat his brother first.

Once again, Jamie had to guess. Like, for example, what was roaming through the Hound's very mind.

In another part of the festivities, a pair of old yet very influential people were walking about and chatting like old friends.

Well more like rivals in a certain way. But the way they appeared to converse, it made it seem they were friends.

You'd only have to look underneath some layers to see the truth.

"You must be quite proud right about now, Lord Twyin."

"Hmmm? What makes you say that?"

"Come now, don't take me for a fool." Olenna said tiredly. "The most wanted bachelor since the Targeryens rule has come along and within the blink of an eye, King Robert snatched him away from everyone to wed your granddaughter. You are about to have a good grandson who has quite the remarkable reputation."

"Does he now?" Tywin said airily.

Olenna gave him a look that indicated she was not really in the mood for such japes.

"Lord Tywin, I would have hoped that you of all people would at least show me the courtesy of how you truly wish to speak then some fanciful mask that all wear in this wretched capital."

Tywin turned to face the aged Tyrell and saw the face that many would associate with her given moniker of the Queen of Thorns.

Pleasant to gaze at but dangerous if not handled correctly. One prick might do you in if you are not careful. Like any thorny flower, her sharp tongue is quite the weapon as it matched her wit and cunning.

If she hadn't married Luthor Tyrell years ago, then Olenna would've been someone far more powerful in the Seven Kingdoms. After all, she was originally supposed to wed Prince Daeron Targaryen, yet chose against it for… reasons...

Now the Old, Great Lion of Casterly rock had to admit Olenna had a point.

"Since I've heard of Roxas' presence, I had wondered if a number of things muttered about were merely jests. Some were quite exaggerated while the rest were genuine."

"I take it your long discussion with him sated the curiosity you hungered to satisfy."

"That and more." Olenna remarked, leaning back into her seat with a clear look of satisfaction. "I lament the misfortune of luck that my family had. If only we had met him first over the Starks, Margaery would have had a husband to be in an instant."

"I am more surprised by the fact that Lord Stark hadn't betrothed him to his daughter Sansa sooner instead of Robert." Tywin admitted. "His father was a close friend in their youth. Not betrothing his son to his daughter… However, Stark was never ambitious unfortunately."

"Oh? Pray tell, what makes you say that?"

Tywin let out an uncharacteristic and derisive snort. "Eddard Stark. The man who with Robert Baratheon, dethroned the Targaryen dynasty. A man who never lost a battle and was the one who entered King's Landing first amongst the Rebel leaders. Alongside Ventus, he was in the Throne Room when my son killed the mad dragon and had every chance to claim the throne there and then."

"And hardly no one would've batted an eye if that were to occur. Yes I've heard the gossip." Olenna let out a chuckle from her aged lips. "A Stark Dynasty, something which had never happened outside of the North."

"Yet he refused it." Tywin stated. "Tell me something, Olenna Tyrell. What sort of man do you know would refuse that kind of power? The power over the Seven Kingdoms. Not just one isolated from all the others."

Olenna hummed candidly to herself. If she were being honest with herself, those types of men were an exceptional rarity. Especially down here in the South.

"I admit, they are a rare breed. But they do exist, special as they are. One who thinks the burden is too much for their shoulders to bear. One who thinks the power could be too corruptible and would ruin them. Or even one believing it's a complete waste of time to manage."

"He would have served to be a better king." Tywin admitted with no ounce of shame. "Much better than the drunkard we have been cursed with today."

"I won't dispute that. Yet he won't be the right one to fill the role. He doesn't seem to be that kind of sort."

"And how would you assume that?" Tywin asked. "The North, savage as it is, requires a man of strength to keep it under control. If Ned Stark can command a kingdom of savages, he can govern a continent of fools."

"You forget the Northerners have a different mindset than us Southerners. The rest of the kingdoms won't agree with his mindset if he were to sit on the Iron Throne. Even if he had been fostered under Jon Arryn, the old Falcon never got him to really adopt the ways below the Neck."

"Maybe they'd change their tune over a King who is willing to do what's necessary by his own hands." Tywin grumbled to himself.

"After these past years, many would be inclined to agree with you there." Spoke the Queen of Thrones. "Outside of this one issue, was there anything else which peeves you of the Starks?"

"They aren't that much of risk takers, for one." Tywin said distastefully. "Ten thousand years they ruled the North. They were the only Kingdom to ward off the invasion of the Andals. And amongst the conquered Kingdoms, they were the only ones who willingly bowed to Aegon without any bloodshed. They could have used that leverage a hundred times over against all others that bowed to the Conqueror. Yet they didn't."

Olenna hummed aloud with a clear sense of amusement now present upon her. "It seems to me Lord Tywin, that individuals with a lack of ambition confuse you. Perhaps it's something you can't comprehend. Or perhaps those with the ability to gain more both disappoints and somewhat impresses you."

Tywin didn't respond to that, merely gazing down at the meal before him allowing Olenna to continue.

"Perhaps we can do more with people like that." Olenna chortled to herself. "Those who do not strive for overachieving greatness that is more often a plague than it is a blessing. And from what I've seen, the boy Roxas perhaps holds the same traits as the Starks do."

"You haven't seen the way he spoke to me." Tywin stated.

"I believe everyone who fears or respects you aside from myself speaks to you in a different manner." Olenna said knowingly.

"He looked as though he wanted to hurt me at one point." Tywin murmured.

"Many wish harm upon you as well, Lord Tywin." Olenna said in an almost bored tone. "Many do to all Nobles across Westeros. Behind closed doors as they don't have the nerve to say it right in front of your face and not reprimand themselves soon afterwards."

"Roxas did as he did prove the point. The valid details he spoke of did help his reasoned claims."

Olenna chuckled, only imagining how it must've gone with Roxas sticking up to the Great Lion on their first encounter.

"So tell me, when will we see a royal wedding?"

"Perhaps in the coming months." Came Tywin's response to the recent change of topic. "It might've been sooner, yet a number of things will need to be accounted for."

"Ah yes, the expenses. A wedding, much less a royal one of this degree, is not cheap. The catering, the entertainment, all the good stuff that dries up our coffers."

"It never is simple as one is often sought to be unique above all others."

"I don't doubt it. Organizing the event also takes time, especially one for the ages."

"Not to mention Ned Stark." Tywin then explained. "It was a topic I did speak to him about. He states that if a wedding were to happen soon, he would only allow it after some time has passed. The Crown's treasury is recovering from the massive expenses after these past years."

"At least the Hand is seeking to mend such a problem than what his predecessor kept delaying in solving." Olenna muttered aloud. "I do suspect you'll help provide the expenses as the wedding does occur in your bloodline."

"Naturally." Said the Old Lion. "If a wedding does occur, which one do you think should happen first?"

"Many would seek for Joffrey to marry Sansa first, uniting the North with the South just like how it were years ago when the Targaryens married the Dornish on two occasions." Said Olenna, referring to the double wedding of King Daeron the Good with Princess Myriah Martell and his sister, Princess Daenerys Targaryen with Prince Maron Martell. Not to mention the one with Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia.

"Yet…"

"Yet I can see you would want Roxas to marry Myrcella as soon as possible, fastly securing him into the royal family. The Keyblade properly maintained -let alone magic- in the legacy you seek to expand, I assume."

Tywin was silent on giving his answer, yet the message was already delivered by the mere look he gave out through his aged green eyes.

"But I must ask, Tywin Lannister." Olenna's eyes narrowed with a small smirk. "Will Roxas even be around for that much longer?"

The Old Lion turned to her, eyes sharp.

She smirked at the reaction and leaned back comfortably in her seat.

"What if he does what his father does before him? Letting history repeat itself?" Olenna inquired. "Leaves without saying goodbye and disappears without any means of ever finding him. Have you ever considered that possibility?"

Rather than answer her, Tywin simply stood from his seat and inclined his head respectfully towards her.

"Enjoy the festivities, Lady Olenna." Tywin said in a cordial manner.

He turned to leave the Queen of Thorns, choosing to go towards where his daughter currently sat.

Loathed as he was to admit it, the thought did cross his mind.

As far as he knows, he originally thought to have his grandson's wedding occur first. Yet losing the chance of having his legacy expand beyond his wildest dreams was frightening. Losing the opportunity of having magic appear in his bloodline was something which he refused to let happen now that he has personally witnessed it.

And to be frank, what exactly is Roxas beholden to here?

Yes he has made some strong allies, or friends really since coming here, but these are the same occurrence that happened when Ventus first came to this continent.

And the allies Roxas has made were the same that Ventus made in nearly the same order.

The Starks, followed by the Baratheons, Lannisters and Martells.

Just the Lannisters were last the previous time.

And everyone that was present within the Throne Room was well aware of what had happened the last day Ventus was ever seen.

Once more, Tywin found himself cursing at the misfortune of Robert having been crowned King over Eddard.

If Robert was the one who announced this betrothal, who is to say that his own actions would be the result that would undo such a boon.

Roxas wasn't a man who wanted much.

That much Tywin was able to discern rather easily. What the boy had cared for to an almost sickeningly sweet degree was the welfare and well being of those close to him.

It wasn't just that, but the safety of the general populous from more than just the Heartless and the Unversed as of late.

He was inspiring change.

And that gave Tywin some hope that the boy would remain here in Westeros.

For too many years, this continent -much like in Essos- hadn't progressed all that much and people didn't like change. They've grown too accustomed to the status quo and don't want to see it's wheel toppled over so it'll be replaced with something else.

This happened a number of times in the past, signifying a great shift of eras. One of them was of Aegon the Conqueror sweeping in with his dragons. Through them, the rules had changed.

And like them, when Ventus first arrived here, so much had drastically shifted in a short amount of time.

Whilst it was the Targaryens that many point to that led to their own undoing, there were rumblings between some that pointed to the sudden appearance of Ventus being the catalyst.

Bizarre as it was, Tywin even believed them for a short time.

A boy with incredible abilities and skills comes in when all the Great Houses within Westeros had gathered on the grandest tourney to have ever been hosted. In that Tourney, the boy went about befriending the many great houses and gained a popular reputation amongst them that has endured to this day. The next time he returns, he is assisting the rebels and is one of the key players that overthrew the Targaryen Dynasty with the Starks, Arryn's and Baratheons.

And now… it appears that history is on course to repeat itself once again.

Ventus planted the seed two decades ago but Roxas and even Cloud Strife caused it to sprout on this next cycle of overdue change.

Only this time there is an underlying current that things would be far more drastic than last time.

Rather than having a minimal time here, Roxas has had an active role across Westeros.

The fact that five of the eight Great Houses of Westeros were here for one man spoke volumes over the growing influence and reputation the young warrior possessed.

For now, those thoughts were moved to the side as he stood by his daughter who turned to him.

"Father." Cersei greeted cordially, cup of wine in hand.

"Cersei." Tywin said in kind. "I hope you have been able to… enjoy the festivities."

As he asked such a question, the two heard the bellowing laughter of the King who was well into his drinks with many men laughing around him for his foolish antics.

The glowering look the Queen sent towards the King was more than enough of an answer for the elderly Lannister.

She let out a ragged sigh as she took a large gulp of her cup. Her eyes glided across the feast when her eyes landed on a sight that actually made her lip twitch upwards.

"At the very least my daughter can enjoy her time in this gaudy excuse of a tourney."

Quirking a brow, Tywin turned over to see that his granddaughter had managed to get her betrothed to dance with her. And by the looks of it, things were turning out well as they were enjoying themselves.

He nodded in approval, seeing that the boy had been able to conduct himself adequately enough with Myrcella.

Same can't be said with his eldest grandson as he wasn't spending time with his own betrothed. Instead he seemed to be sticking close to Olenna's granddaughter.

Of course the raucous laughter of the King interrupted this moment, making the Queen stand from her seat and opting to walk away.

Tywin, being of similar mind, fell into step with his daughter.

"Of all the people I had to marry-"

"Are you not the Queen?"

"Queen of what?" Cersei asked derisively. "Queen of the Seven Kingdoms I may be. To be married to an oaf, drunkard and whoremonger."

"There were other alternatives you could have had." Tywin stated. "But he was the one that would give you the crown you so desired."

Much as she wished that she was able to find a way to rebuke him, she couldn't.

She was still the Queen after all.

The two didn't have much time to dwell on this topic as they were approached by a surprising pair.

"Your Grace." Oberyn Martell greeted kindly enough. "Lord Tywin."

"Prince Oberyn." Tywin said in a polite manner.

"I am ashamed we have not had the time to properly converse with each other." Oberyn said, picking some fruit from a nearby tray. "We have been here for so long but to not entertain the chance to speak with the head of House Lannister…"

"I had only recently arrived at the Capital not too long ago." Tywin said candidly. "I had other matters to attend to so I have as much fault to hold as you assume yourself."

"How kind of you." Oberyn remarked, a sly smile in place, before looking at the Queen. "Your Grace, I must say that you look quite radiant this evening."

"Why thank you, Prince Oberyn." Cersei said in a courteous manner.

The Red Viper then took the hand of the lady next to him and raised it up to kiss it lovingly.

"May I have the honor of introducing to you both Ellaria." Oberyn said with a more kinder tone. "Ellaria, Tywin Lannister, the former Hand of the King and Warden of the West and his daughter, the Queen Cersei Lannister. Lord Tywin, Queen Cersei, My Paramour Ellaria Sand."

"My Lord, your Grace." Ellaria said with a bright smile.

"Charmed." Tywin said with a polite enough tone.

Cersei on the other hand…

"Can't say I've ever met a Sand before." the Queen said in a curt manner. "Properly of course since your family's arrival."

And like that, the "pleasant" mood between the four had gone away rather quickly with Elliara's smile disappearing.

"We are everywhere in Dorne." Elliara stated, quite proudly even. "I have 10,000 brothers and sisters."

"Bastards are born of passion, aren't they?" Oberyn asked in a rhetorical fashion, gesturing to himself. "I have eight that I lovingly call my own daughters. They're not despised in Dorne."

"No?" Cersei's tone was almost snide. "How tolerant of you."

"What is there to tolerate?" Oberyn fleetingly inquired. "The sins of the parent should seldom befall upon the child. Though that must not be something that weighs on your mind given the many years you have worn your crown, You Grace. It would appear that it may have made your neck crooked in appearance. I can only imagine the relief you will feel when you shall be able to set aside these regal responsibilities and let your children take care of the burden."

Tywin felt his jaw clench and hoped his daughter would respond accordingly.

"I suppose you'll never know, Prince Oberyn." Cersei said, an uncaring tone. "It must be difficult for your brother to govern a land as… passionate as Dorne with a gout in place. A pity he was unable to join us."

"I'm quite fine with it, honestly. I've been more of an advisor to my brother and my niece; his heir. Same with my uncle, Lewyn." Lamented the Viper. "But as for my brother's absence in coming here, it does pain him in not coming. He so wished to see Ventus' son face to face. Alas, his gout has been getting to him as of late so he was unfit to travel."

"Do give your brother my regards, Prince Oberyn." Tywin said respectfully. "Hopefully this gout will abate in time and won't prevent him from going about his duties."

"The Rich Man's Disease, as it is called." Oberyn cheekily said. "It is a miracle you dodged the bolt with that one, hmm?"

"Noblemen in my part of the country don't enjoy the same pleasures as the ones you do in Dorne."

"People everywhere have their differences." Oberyn casually remarked. "In some places, the Highborn frown upon those of low birth. In other places the rape of women and children is considered distasteful."

"At least justice can be served, one way or another for such acts." Tywin said calmly enough.

"It often depends on how it's actually performed." Oberyn shrugged. "Perhaps a public decapitation or mayhaps a humiliation serves as a more… fitting punishment."

"The belief and views can empower the ideas of justice, but what are such things if they're corrupt and misguided not actually pure like many songs and tales depict them." Tywin responded.

Oberyn gave a bitter chuckle in response to that. "All too true, I suppose."

There are many ways to serve justice. A lord, a lady, king or queen can await through a trial and give their verdict on the accused. They can serve out their sentence on whatever is seen fit for the crime or they could take the Black and live the rest of their days at the Wall. If not that, then the accused can demand a trial by combat.

Many have seen it as a "holy" act, something which is hard to ignore and refuse as it must be carried out. If one fighter wins, it may decide the fate of the accused one way or another.

And yet there's quite the problem with this "holy" verdict.

One party could use trickery to gain the upperhand on the bout. Or even the chosen fighter used as champion is too strong or skilled than the other.

It's often seen as unfair, just like justice. "Only the gods may decide my fate" as most people say before or after declaring a trial by combat.

But do the gods actually intervene and influence things to go the righteous way?

Who's to say...

"Still, let us hope that with the new Hand of the King, Westeros can continue its reign of peace and prosperity." Oberyn said after a few moments of silence between them. "I have confidence that Ned Stark will prove to be as strong a Hand as Lord Jon Arryn was."

"You seem to hold him in high regard, Prince Oberyn." Cersei couldn't help but attempt to press him now. "Was he not one of the men who fought against your family in the Rebellion? I figure the Dornish would view Northerners distastefully."

"Eddard Stark may have his issues with most of my people, such as the Daynes for killing the Sword of the Morning, but he still has their respect on a number of fronts." Oberyn stated with absolute honesty. "He was friends with Ventus, was he not? And it was with him that my Uncle Lewyn came home alive and well. Ned isn't viewed as negatively as one might expect in the North. Many remember his demands for justice the day the Capital was sacked. Something I found quite… refreshing coming from this city."

Cersei could barely restrain her sneer at the mention of Eddard Stark, showing the contempt she held towards the Warden of the North.

Tywin held a neutral expression, allowing Oberyn to go on.

"So have you decided on the course of action with wedding plans? The topic has been floating about."

Tywin simply nodded. "In fact I have. Perhaps it'll save time and effort by having the two weddings occur at the same time."

After his chat with Olenna, Tywin just didn't know if the festering feeling will settle down on having one occur over the other. Too late or too soon for that matter.

"Ah like what King Daeron the Good did all those years ago." Mused the Viper. "Could be appropriate. Hopefully the events that follow will turn out better unlike back then."

With the music playing in the air, many couples were on their way to another area of the congregated tents. An area quickly converted into a dancing space.

Amongst them were a number of familiar faces along the sidelines, observing the activity unfold.

Arianne was standing side by side with her Gruncle Lewyn and the archery champion as he was dressed in finer clothes than he could have never thought of wearing prior to today. Anguy didn't exactly think of attending these festivities, but given he was a champion of the Hand's Tourney, he at least had to be present.

At least he was enjoying himself in more ways than one.

While some of the attention he was getting was manageable, he was able to get on by with some good company.

One of which was the Dornish princess he was with.

A few others were Thoros of Myr and Lord Beric Dundarion, who Anguy was able to form a friendship with.

"They seem to be at it again." Lewyn mused aloud with an amused smirk present on his face.

Arianne broke away from whatever conversation she presently had with Aunguy, turning to who it was her Gruncle was referring to and found herself snorting a moment later.

Cloud seemed to be trying to "politely" resist being dragged onto the dance floor by her cousins Obara and Nymeria who appeared to disregard his discomfort. Said Snakes wore silky dresses as opposed to their usual masculine styled attire for tonight's festivities.

Eventually, he relented and was basically passed between the two every two minutes as that appeared to be the agreed time.

Thankfully for the mercenary, he at long last managed to free himself from the two and disappeared amongst the crowd, frustrating the girls.

He magically appeared right next to Roxas who was seated at the Stark table, the young lad conversing with a clearly bored Arya Stark who was lazily feeding her large Direwolf.

It was such a strange sight to see so many act so comfortably around a wolf of that size as if it were the most natural thing to see.

As Cloud seated himself with Roxas and Arya, the Chocobos that belonged to the two blonds hopped up from beneath the table and stared at them both expectantly.

"Are they starting to time every time we're together?" Roxas asked in amused confusion.

"Seems like it." Cloud said, casually pulling out a strip of a baked pastry and tossed it in the awaiting mouth of his black Chocobo.

It quickly gobbled up the pastry with Chocho looking at Jojo with a flat look. Roxas laughed, grabbing a nearby piece of chicken and held it out for his Chocobo who eagerly snatched it out of his hand and ate it in one go.

"Getting a lot bigger now." Roxas noted. "How long do you figure till we can ride them?"

"Perhaps soon at this rate. Already commissioned some saddles and stirrups for these two. Just need to wait for their full growth so they'll be properly made."

Roxas simply nodded, looking over to Arya who groaned aloud.

"Why do I have to be here?" the She-wolf bemoaned, Nymeria whimpering for her partner. "See? Even Nym doesn't wanna be here."

"Your father insisted on you attending so you may experience what a tourney is like all the way through."

"I haven't even danced." Arya dryly said. "And having one with your father doesn't count."

Roxas chuckled. "I know this isn't what you like to do. But just bear with it."

Arya only moaned out as if she were suffering the worst kind of pain as she face-planted on the table, Nymeria moving to lick her face a few times to comfort her.

"Keep your chin up, Arya." Cloud said, flicking her head which made her snap her face up to him with her cheeks puffed out.

She rubbed the top of her head, glaring lightly at the small smirk that Cloud gave her.

Roxas lightly laughed as he went back to looking around at the festivities.

Everyone appeared to be enjoying the overall tourney with many gloating about the glory they intended to seize on this day.

No. XIII looked over to see Ned Stark conversing with Barristan Selmy, the two appearing to share a joke as they laughed together.

Of course there the looks he had been garnering from the many women present here, something he shared with Cloud and it never failed to make him uncomfortable. They just didn't hide their intentions whatsoever with their gazes of hunger and lust directed at him. It's not like he was betrothed or anything.

Oh wait, he was.

And speaking of which, Roxas had danced with his betrothed earlier and he had to take a breather for the time being as Myrcella needed to excuse herself. But she did voice that she wanted to continue dancing with him upon her return.

He simply politely told her he'd be waiting for the time when they would dance again and she deftly walked away with a beaming smile for all to see. For she can't wait to resume their activity.

It was their first time dancing with each other. And while it was difficult for the Keybearer at first, he was able to recover and fix things to make things memorable for Myrcella.

Yet despite his warning of never dancing once, he had not once stepped on his bethrothed's feet.

Any onlookers figured and possibly realized with how much he fought, his footwork was possibly graceful as it had a certain rhythm to match with the musical beat in the air.

It honestly did surprise Myrcella that Roxas was graceful even if he was a novice.

It was all thanks to when Roxas recounted one of Syrio's lessons with Arya.

When the First Sword of Braavos was still learning the ways of the sword, he was given the odd instruction on learning how to dance. Not of sword fighting, but of the traditional sense with music in the air with others around him.

It confused Syrio at first, but he complied on the request. And through that did he learn a valuable lesson back then, to which he revealed to both Arya and Roxas.

In truth, dancing and fighting have a lot in common. They both have rhythm. Both you and your opponent follow the rhythm of battle. Your movements, the way you swing your weapons and limbs, even the way you breathe. Some battles are slow, like the present music in the air. Not every fight has to be fierce and fast paced. It's important to assess the situation so one can work well with their opponent; more like one's dance partner in this case.

Every fight has a rhythm to it. Once catching onto it and letting it flow, you'll control the battle, giving you quite the significant advantage against your opponent.

Having swept his gaze at the other dance couples around them, Roxas was able to get a better idea on how to recover from his stumbling movements. And once he caught onto the right beat, the Nobody had let things flow.

Suffice to say, Myrcella was swept off her feet and greatly enjoyed the experience.

From the corner of his eye from his seated form, Roxas saw Jory being dragged by a blonde woman wearing a green dress before having him dance with her. The Captain of the Guard of House Stark was embarrassed at first, but didn't appear outright refusing on her request.

Roxas did laugh a little upon witnessing Jory's awkward movements as he wasn't all that great on the physical act. In fact, it was outright crappy.

Yet the man's dance partner didn't care as she was quick to take control and sternly tell him, in a playful manner, to follow her lead instead of the other way around.

Arya had noticed this and voiced her thoughts. "Who's that with Jory?"

Cloud looked over to where Roxas and Cloud were staring at.

"Ah, that would be… what's her name? Lollys Stokeworth I think."

"Who?" Arya asked.

"She's the second daughter of Tanda Stokeworth, the head of her House here in the Crownlands."

"And how would you know?"

"Said woman introduced herself to me earlier, hoping she could get me to dance with her daughter."

"Which didn't happen, did it?"

"Not a chance." Cloud grunted, eyes closed as a brow twitched in annoyance.

And Lady Tanda wasn't the only one to introduce her daughter to Cloud as he's been hounded all night. He had met with the single daughters of many other lords and ladies in attendance to this tourney, hoping one of them could catch his eye so the mercenary could court them.

This only happened, due to two things. The first being his growing reputation in the capital, slaying Heartless left and right while helping out the smallfolk. The second being his earlier display of stopping the Mountain and kicking him across the field with utter ease.

The first bit wasn't terrible, but the second opened the floodgates.

Since Cloud didn't have any "big" fortune and any lands, the lords and ladies sought to have him marry into their House through their daughters and boost their standing in Westeros.

If he was any other mercenary, then it could be rather appealing.

Yet he wasn't.

"Jory really does seem happy dancing with her."

Thinking for a few moments, Arya wondered if this Lollys Stokeworth was the woman Jory was courting.

She'll no doubt wanna question him in the morning.

Of course, the dainty kiss on the cheek the man received certainly added credence to that idea.

Rolling her eyes, Arya hopped out of her seat and patted Nymeria.

"Well I'd rather not die of boredom and gossip." Arya announced. "I'm leaving."

"And where will you possibly go?"

Arya shrugged. "It's not that late. Maybe Gendry is still up."

"You do realize it's dangerous for you to go alone." Cloud stated.

"That's what I have needle and Nymeria for." Arya rebuked, affectionately scratching her Direwolf's ear. "Besides, I'll use the secret way to get there."

"What secret way?" Roxas and Cloud asked in confusion.

Arya only gave the two a mischievous grin before running off with Nymeria by her side.

"Hey, Arya!" Roxas called out to her only to realize she was already out of sight.

He let out a grunt, flopping down to his seat. "She's incorrigible."

"We're the ones that encourage her." Cloud stated, the two knowing this to be true.

It didn't help that both their Chocobo's nodded at them.

"Oh Cloud~"

The Blonde Wolf exhaled a groan, turning around seeing Nymeria and Obara approach him.

"What do you want?" Cloud asked flatly, not at all caring for decor.

"Why to continue our dance, of course." Said the spear wielder.

Obara was quick to ensnare her arms around Cloud's side while her sister entrapped the other.

"And you will not be escaping this time."

Once the whip wielder said her piece, the two Sand Snakes dragged the blonde mercenary away back to the dance floor.

"Sorry I kept you waiting."

Roxas looked over to see Myrcella approach him.

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

Myrcella smiled at her betrothed.

The Baratheon princess wore a dress which was primarily creamy in color with a crimson red top with embroidered designs of antlers littering the space. It covered from the neck down while her arms were completely exposed to show some pieces of jewelry on her wrists. And hanging around her neck was a pendant she prominently showed it, a gift she'd gotten from her mother years ago and never parted with it once.

Rising from his seat, he took her hand as the pair made their way to the congregation of dancers.

-Insert Final Fantasy VIII: Waltz on the Moon-

"I hope you've been enjoying the Tourney, Princess." Roxas said, the two slowly gliding across the floor.

His response came in the form of the Princess puffing her cheeks out in annoyance.

"Roxas~" She whined. "What have I told you about calling me that? You hate it when people call you a Prince, right?"

Roxas chuckled, nodding at the statement.

"Right, right, sorry Myrcella." Roxas kindly said, seeing the light tint of her cheeks.

It was a slow waltz with small moments of an increase in tempo though overall it was pretty calm for the most part.

Others had begun joining in with Myrcella and Roxas being the overall center of the growing group of dancers.

The songs soon became more festive and energetic with people beginning to move about with a greater degree of movement.

Honestly, Roxas couldn't deny that this was rather fun.

Of course his mood shifted as he changed dance partners.

"Wait, Myrce-"

She only laughed as she was taken away by none other than her Uncle Jamie while he was thrown to a more mature lady with a glint in her eye that made Roxas tense up slightly.

"If you would do me the honors, your Grace." The woman said, tone clearly conveying more than the want of a dance.

Roxas only laughed nervously as he fell into step with her.

The dance was brief as he then changed into another partner.

'Great, I gotta do this now.' Roxas internally thought, realizing this was to be the theme of this dance now.

This went on for several more minutes as he kept getting new women to dance with him. He didn't even bother to get to know them, given how quick they got changed out.

-Insert Tête à Tête: Ismaël De Saint Léger-

It was from there did he get someone he actually knew.

"You have time for me?"

Roxas turned over to see Tyene wearing a silk dress which he swore must've been from her cousin's closet. It had a proper blend of her family's colors while it helped highlight parts of her figure. Her arms were fully exposed while the front part of her dress was hanging from a decorated choker around her neck. The few pieces of jewelry she wore could appear normal to any of the nobility, but they were in fact Moogle creations to help her out fight against the Heartless.

Tyene seemed to have found some more use to them outside of the battlefield.

And with part of the cloth overhanging her leg, Roxas can see hints of a knife strapped to her shapely, toned leg to show she can protect herself if needed.

The excited and somewhat mischievous look was a bit off putting but Roxas didn't see a reason to decline.

Grabbing his hand and placing hers on his shoulder, she waited for his mind to catch up. When it did, he instinctively moved his other hand placed on her waist with his grasped hand tightened around hers. And it wasn't long before he began to slowly lead her around in a circle.

"I pretty much do now." Roxas said, a sense of slight relief as he was with a friend now over a few strange women who just wanted to… do things to him.

"Good, so follow my lead." Tyene joked. "You're slower than the tortoises we find in Dorne."

Roxas deadpanned at her. "I'm not that bad you know. I've been able to keep up with everyone."

"Now you have to keep up with me." Tyene said, not bothering to hide her giddiness.

She pulled him along with a bounce in her step with Roxas moving to follow after her.

Their steps grew as other couples moved around them. Both Roxas and Tyene thus bled into the masses as they soon glided across the floor. And from what he learned from his experience with Myrcella, Roxas was quickly moving with grace and purpose.

As this went on, Tyene had to admit that she began swooning as her dance partner was sweeping her off her feet. Her eyes couldn't break away from his as she became mesmerized by them. From how the lights around them seemed to brighten the blue gaze he bore to the equally dazzling smile he held.

Her heart rate was increasing after every passing second, feeling her entire body begin to have a strange tingle.

As this went on, more people started to take notice of them from the sidelines. While there were some frowns and concerned looks being received, the ones openly enjoying the spectacle was coming from none other than the Martells.

Tyene's gruncle and parents bore brilliant smiles while Ellaria couldn't help but think that her precious first born daughter was all grown up now. Even Arianne and her cousins were quite happy for her.

When things eventually came to the crescendo for the time being, Tyene brightly smiled at her dance partner. With her heart racing, she soon became quite daring with so many gazing upon them. She soon took over at the end by surprisingly tipping him over. With him vulnerable, the Sand Snake leaned down and captured his lips with hers.

Pulling him back up, she thus broke the lip contact as she gazed at his flushed face.

"Thanks for the dance, Roxas."

"Uh… You're welcome."

Tyene giggled as she practically strutted off.

He was left standing there, greatly dazed and really at a loss as to what to do. He didn't even realize that many people were staring at him and openly gaping at what just happened.

Wanting some fresh air, per say, Roxas exited the tents.

"Really starting to hate this whole place." Roxas grumbled to himself.

In his rush to leave, he had heard a few whispers and murmurs about the Sand Snake kissing him with no regard for him being betrothed.

Frankly, he really didn't care right about now.

He just needed a moment to himself because he honestly has not had one all day.

Walking some good amount of space away from the festivities, he walked along the riverbed as the moonlight shined overhead with the stars twinkling.

He heard the sound of more laughter and songs in the background with even some nearby drunks that had wandered away from the feast.

During his walk, he had casually picked up a few rocks and seeing that they were flat, threw them to skip across the riverbed.

Smirking slightly at seeing a few reach the other end, he continued this small little activity until he reached the end of the riverbed.

At that moment, Roxas spotted someone standing out there all by her lonesome.

"Sansa?"

Him calling out to her caused her to snap towards him.

She wore a light purple dress with a creamy underlining, given what was exposed from her long sleeves which opened widely in the end. It was form fitting as it hugged her figure quite nicely in a modest manner. While it covered up her body, her neck area was exposed with it reaching down near her breasts to show a small hint of them. While there were fabric roses decorating the frame, she also bore a necklace to help occupy her exposed flesh.

Instantly, the red haired Stark found herself blushing quite profoundly at the sight of the well dressed Nobody who walked right up to her.

"What're you doing here all by yourself?" Roxas asked.

Rather than getting a verbal answer, Roxas felt something but its head against his side.

Looking over to what it was that nudged him, he saw that it was Sansa's own Direwolf.

"Hey girl." He greeted, brushing his hand across Lady's head and scratching a particular spot behind the ears.

Lady let out a sound of satisfaction with her leaning forward to gently lick his cheek.

"Alright, so you're not alone." Roxas remarked. "Still, what are you doing all the way out here away from the party? I thought you love those kinds of things."

She didn't voice the response, only thinking of it.

Sansa was swept up with the festivities and had enjoyed the party so far. She had mustered up some courage as she sought out Roxas in hopes of procuring a dance with him, even if it was a quick one like what occurred earlier.

Unfortunately, Tyene unintentionally intervened.

Sansa waited on the sidelines, hoping she could find a chance to dance with him. Yet what occurred in that particular dance number caused her heart to crack.

She thought she could perhaps handle things with Myrcella, but witnessing what the Sand Snake did at the end made things hurt. Because of it, she left the tents in order to calm herself before causing an embarrassing display out in the open.

Honestly… loathed as she was to admit it to herself, she shouldn't be all that surprised with how much attention Roxas was receiving. Especially from all the girls be it around her age or even older.

He looked positively dashing right now but looked good in almost anything really.

Added with the fact that many have either heard or seen his heroics, his noble actions when he wasn't fighting the Heartless and his overall kind demeanor and well…

What foolish lady wouldn't find that attractive?

She fell for him after all.

He wasn't just a pretty face as Arya probably would say.

Roxas was kind, caring, giving and just…

Sansa closed her eyes as she looked away from him with her lip quivering.

The Nobody saw this and moved around standing in front of her.

"Sansa." He said, stepping up to her. "Please talk to me. Is something wrong?"

The Stark girl didn't respond at all.

-Insert Vitamin String Quartet: Stay With Me-

Roxas's ears perked up from the music playing from the tents, it being so loud, it could be heard from where the pair presently stood.

He saw Sansa had glanced down away from him though she did sway slightly to the rhythm of the current song.

An idea soon formed, causing Roxas to clear his throat and stand with a more regal poise. Sansa gazed at him in confusion as he bent forward slightly as he outstretched his hand.

"May I please have this dance?" Roxas asked with a kind voice.

Sansa's heart soon skipped a beat as she didn't know how to really answer without making a fool of herself. But she had to thank the gods there were no spectators to witness this.

For the Stark girl couldn't agree fast enough, fiercely nodding her head before collecting herself with positive feelings replacing the sorrowful ones.

Once taking her hand, the Keybearer brought it up as their palms soon became flat. They slowly walked around each other while their hands were still in contact. After several turns, they switched hands before resuming in a counterclockwise motion.

After a couple more turns, their unoccupied hands reached up overhead as Roxas gently grasped hers.

Roxas took the lead and made Sansa follow. Even though she didn't exactly feel like dancing at the moment, given what she had witnessed earlier, it slowly drifted away. Here she is right now, dancing with the man she grew strong feelings towards.

And just the way he moved her around made it harder for her to push said feelings down. She wasn't supposed to feel such things for another person, yet it was just so hard for her quivering heart.

Roxas spun Sansa out and in. Catching her with her back to his chest as they swayed for a while before spinning her back out and properly into his arms. From there, he lifted her up into the air before gently bringing her back down. And the occasional dips felt utterly grand as she placed much trust into her dance partner.

Sansa felt like she was dreaming. Roxas' hand moved to wrap around her waist, pulling her flushed body against his. In her perspective, the natural lights coming from the heavens seemed to highlight them. She even thought the pair left one world and entered another.

Of course the song began to build up to its climax as Sansa realized her little world will crumble soon enough. Not knowing her present thoughts, he seemed to assume she wanted this dance number to last longer. So he kept on moving with such precision, making her savor each moment like it was her last.

As the last notes were being played out, both teens found each other quite close. Their gazes were deadlock with deep sky blue meeting Tully Blue with a vivid Grey outline as they could've practically kissed with such little space in between them.

It was then that things became too much.

The Stark girl couldn't take it anymore.

When he brought her body closer to his, it was then did the wolf pounce.

She quickly leaned in and entrapped his lips with hers. Sucking in air through her nostrils, keeping the contact together as long as possible while her eyes were closed.

For yet another time, Roxas was surprised by the bold act and didn't know how to properly respond to it.

And it appeared that Sansa had managed to pick up on this as she quickly took his hands and moved them to be firmly around her back before she had her arms around his neck.

She leaned further into the kiss, taking a few cues that she had read up on and overhearing some discussions from highborn ladies.

Roxas wasn't reacting all that much and his body seemed rather tense so she momentarily pulled back slightly if only just to speak.

"J-just move your l-lips against mine." She stuttered out with him barely managing to hear her.

He didn't really have a chance to respond as she pressed another, more impassioned kiss against him. She felt herself burning up as Roxas began doing as she had told him to and moved his lips against hers. There was a brief second wherein Roxas had his mouth slightly open up which Sansa pounced on the opportunity. Opening her mouth slightly, part of her tongue had licked against his lips in hopes of entry to make things deeper.

Caught slightly off guard by this, Roxas didn't realize by opening his own mouth further that it would give Sansa the chance to make it far more…. Well more than it already was by this point.

She practically let out a loud moan as her tongue danced against his for several seconds of who would win out in their little contest. She mewled as she was pulled in closer in response to her actions.

Roxas seemed to be losing on this unusual fight he was in. It seemed to never end as she trapped his mouth with his and dominated it.

In some parts of him, he was utterly confused. Another felt… unusually happy?

After what seemed like forever, Sansa broke away from him as they soon began sucking in air. A string of saliva connected the two from their mouths as their faces were flushed. Their eyes seemed to glow from the moonlight, which showed the feelings greatly shining from her gaze. And When the line broke, she leaned back in to give him a chaste kiss.

Sansa let out a tittered laugh, leaning her forehead against his as she kept her arms firmly around his neck.

"Th-That was-"

"Wow." She let out a sigh, feeling her heart soar as to what she just did.

"That's one way of putting it." He muttered, making her giggle incessantly.

Sansa felt like she could be in this moment, with him, forever.

"Sansa… I have to ask… what brought this on?"

He honestly wanted to ask of this since she kissed him last night. More again now.

What he got was yet another laugh with her pulling him closer to her as she nuzzled herself against his body.

"I… I just had to do this." Sansa said, sounding far more confident then she had looked just a few seconds ago.

"Why?" He asked softly.

"Why else?" Sansa gazed at him, the Nobody seeing the burning desire behind them.

This wasn't like all the other looks he received by many of the noble and commoner ladies he interacted with. One that wanted things for their own ends for their own means.

Some were quite innocent and bashful, like Talia and Mira Forrester, even Sera Durwell.

Others like Arianne and Margaery were more of intrigue as to what and who he is with them being more personable with the times he spoke with them. Even the former seemed to pull back from whatever advances she previously had once getting to know him better.

Myrcella had one that was genuine of a growing innocence to eventually blossom to maturity. Wanting things to progress at a reasonable pace whenever she got the chance to spend time with him.

Tyene had a similar one, but was being more daring to let him acknowledge her advances. He guessed it could've been something from her upbringing, not that he was being biased on it. And it was progressing during the times she was with him in the training fields or out on patrol.

With Sansa… this was a far more intense, longing and indescribable look that Roxas just couldn't quite understand.

Yet… he could feel it the more he gazed at Sansa's eyes.

What was this?

"I… I don't-"

"Please, Roxas, don't push me away."

The Keybearer didn't know if he really could at this moment, only keeping her close as a means of comforting her.

"I-I won't." Roxas assured, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her closer to him. "I could never do that to you."

*Badump*

What was that?

He heard a sigh of both relief and contentment as she began to lightly hum a song with him feeling the vibration against his neck with her resting her head on his shoulder.

It was pleasant, making him lean his head against the top of hers. He didn't realize this at first but he found himself inhaling a bit deeply and found Sansa to have a very nice scent.

This was an entirely new sensation that Roxas didn't really have the proper means in which to describe it.

So really, he figured it would be better to just enjoy it and take it in.

Confusing as it was, he felt… good. Happy even.

And it seemed that Sansa was equally as happy as he was so that's what mattered in the end.

Just him and her right here in this moment.

*BA-DUMP BA-DUMP*

That was…

Was it…?

No…

It couldn't have been.

Right?

Unbeknownst to them, they had an onlooker.

And he was pissed.

Joffrey had stormed off on his own by this point.

He had seen enough.

Normally, he would yell out, practically screeching, as he demanded to know what the blue blazes was going on.

Yet it seemed he knew quite well enough by now.

It wasn't enough that he can't exactly get his way anymore with Roxas present at the capital.

After his stunt back at the Crossroads Inn, his father won't tolerate his actions any further. No longer can he lie and get away with it as he would be punished because of it.

So if he were to tell his father about what he witnessed, Robert would merely accuse him as a liar once again; even if it were the absolute truth. Especially with how much the king favors the Keybearer.

Joffrey didn't even know if his own mother would take his side on the matter due to how much she cares for the peasant.

If he tried to bring this up with his grandfather, even his own sister, the prince didn't know if they'd ignore him and outright accuse him respectively.

How dare this freak undermine him. Him!

The future King of Westeros.

Yet this Nobody treated him as if he were any ordinary commoner.

This Nobody got all the attention and all the glory.

Him and that disgusting mercenary.

They needed to be taught a lesson. A lesson not to trifle with royalty and treat them so casually or disrespect them so brazenly.

He would not stand for any further transgressions.

Even his Dog had ignored his orders on the accounts of him going to end the life of the mercenary after what had transpired today.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Joffrey whirled around, wondering where that came from.

"Who said that?!" Joffrey demanded.

What he got was a taunting laugh, only served to add fuel to his already agitated state.

"I demand you reveal yourself." Joffrey said petulantly. "Who are you to mock a King?!"

"That would be me." the voice was sinister and clearly enjoying Joffrey's reaction.

With the surrounding darkness, the crown prince didn't know where to pinpoint the voice.

"Come here and face me, coward!"

"Coward I am not, prince. But if you outright insist."

Joffrey heard some steps coming towards him, making him turn around to the source.

He was able to make out a figure, but the recent overcast made it hard for Joffrey to make out the features.

All he knew was that the man was roughly his height and there was this echoey tone to it, like he was wearing something over his head. A helmet, a mask or even a cloth perhaps.

Yet this feeling coming off from him was… quite compelling.

"Wh-who are you?"

"Me? Meh, no one important."

Gaining some of his gusto back, Joffrey puffed his chest out.

"Well you are speaking to someone who is important." The Prince said with as much confidence as he could muster. "Step out of the shadows and reveal yourself."

The man chuckled aloud, as if what Joffrey had just said to be the most amusing thing he had ever heard.

"Look at you, little man." The stranger taunted. "Thinking the title he has gives you authority overall. That's adorable."

In an instant, Joffrey's rage returned.

"You are talking to a King!" He screeched.

Once more, the figure laughed his condescending laugh.

"You sound like a little girl when you scream. Has anyone told you that?"

The rage building within Joffrey was indescribable.

In a short amount of time, the Crown Prince had found someone he hated as much as Roxas.

He greatly wished he could have a weapon with him so he may strike this interloper down. But once again, he had to blame Roxas for losing the privilege of carrying a sword without supervision.

"If that is all you have to say, then leave me be!"

Joffrey began walking away, yet stopped by what was said next.

"I can defeat that Nobody you hate so much."

The prince turned and gave him a raised brow look.

"What do you mean, that Nobody?" Joffrey asked in confusion.

An echoed chuckle was heard.

"Just something I know and you don't."

It was at that time did the overcast blocking the moonlight break away, revealing much of the person's attire.

"That coat." Joffrey said in recognition. "You're with-"

"Enemy of his actually." The Figure in the black coat waved him off in a casual manner. "Been tasked with taking him out when the time comes."

"But I've heard-"

"He's been out of the loop for quite some time. Not that I blame him from what I learned." The black coated man said with a shrug.

Joffrey squinted slightly trying to make out who it was beneath the hood but couldn't see his face at all.

There was some reflective surface of some kind but he couldn't discern what it was.

"Who are you?" Joffrey asked again.

"An outsider like he is." The man responded plainly. "And here to help out. So how about it? Want me to take him out of the picture? You want that, do you? Having your life return to normal, per say?"

Joffrey was a bit overwhelmed by the questions, finding himself taking a step back.

Now that he took a moment to gauge this particular individual in the same black coat as the one that filthy peasant wore… there was something distinctly different about him.

In tonal inflection, it was clear for the Prince to hear the far more menacing tone this one carried with a clear sign of malice laced in every word.

The posture also shows one that this man was a predator.

Someone who would strike a killing blow at a moment's notice.

And the aura that he exuded…

It was genuinely unsettling.

But there was something more pressing that Joffrey recalled.

The words echoed in his mind as he began processing them.

Joffrey was silent throughout as he was too distracted with thinking things through. His jealousy was truly overwhelming him, making him think this stranger was right.

The prince wanted things back the way they should've been in the first place. If Roxas weren't here, then things would be much better for him.

When he looked up, Joffrey momentarily jumped back in surprise in seeing the hooded stranger appearing just a foot away from him.

"Well? Would you like to accept my request?" he asked, almost boredly.

"...What do you want?"

"Huh? Pardon?"

"You obviously aren't gonna do this for free."

He got another one of those annoying laughs of his in response. "Oh~ you're not as stupid as you portray yourself to be, little man."

Joffrey was already seething but the man in black went on.

"I wanna bargain to settle the terms."

After some moments of silence, Joffrey spoke.

"Alright, let's bargain."

-End Chapter-

AN:

Been a while, no doubt.

Sorry about that, folks. Life has not been great as work has been overwhelming on top of personal matters. Not to mention, I've been helping out my pal on his stories as I got stuck on my own.

Free Man Writer: Yeah, it's been beyond hectic for the both of us. But that's how life is unfortunately. Glad we finally got around to finishing this one.

Jeb: Quite a number of things came up since working on this. Quite the number of great bits of entertainment like Zack Snyder's Justice League coming out as an example and that was ultimately great. And more stuff with Kingdom Hearts had dropped quite recently through KHUX. Because of the latter, a number of things will be further planned later on with the new developments.

FMW: Yes, coupled with all that we have seen, more creative ideas to be used on our already stacked plate of shit. There's just more and more work to be done. I really do wish at times we can clone ourselves and set the brains for writing only. Could crank this shit out like no tomorrow. Still, with what we have, I can't wait till we start hitting the game changing aspects in all of our stories. Also, the Flash running back in time in the Snydercut was just insane. One of my absolute favorite scenes in any comic book movie.

Jeb: Oh yeah and fans are practically demanding the Snyderverse make its return. And some people are hoping this latest Suicide Squad film somewhat works with it. Speaking of, boy the latest trailer was fun.

FMW: Yeah, King Shark eating that guy and heyo Starro! Can't wait for that. Also, sorry if some of the dance scenes were not all that good. Not exactly our forte.

Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!

R&R