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(Cersei Lannister, The Goldroad)

Cersei sat in her wheelhouse, having been traveling along this accursed road for weeks on end, with only her hateful aunt as company. At least when the old bitch wasn't riding as she was currently doing.

There had been suggestions at stopping at Deep Den when they had passed by it, but the little monster refused, not wanting to impose on the House, what with the old Lord Badger having died in the burning with the rest of the self-important sheep.

She sniffed in disgust at the fool's weakness, the Lyddens should be proud their lord had died for the Lions' cause. Despite being tired of sleeping in the wheelhouse, the foul beast didn't care a bit for her discomfort, wanting to press on as fast as possible.

If her father had still been alive, these fools wouldn't have dared deny her.

At least Uncle Kevan had the sense to suggest stopping for a bit, in order to recuperate from traveling for so long. Her imbecile of a brother had only acquiesced when the old man brought it up after a particularly long day.

Never mind the fact that she was the one who suggested it in the first place.

Riders had been sent ahead, ensuring everything was up to standard and the area was safe. No one wanted to stay in a pig squalor or a town filled with bandits.

She scoffed at the idea that someone would dare attack a Lannister.

"My Lady, we are approaching the inn." A handmaiden said quietly, not raising her head to meet Cersei's eyes.

"About time. How dare those buffoons take so long!."

The handmaiden wisely remained silent, whilst it was well known that Cersei had little true power in House Lannister, especially after the near extinction of the branch lines, she was still a noble lady of a Great House. Hardly something any commoner or servant could compare with.

Not noticing or caring for the girl's trepidation, Cersei exited the wheelhouse with all the grace that could be mustered after a long day of traveling.

Immediately several Lannister guardsmen surrounded her as they made their way to the inn. Her handmaiden quietly trailed behind her as no one dared to speak a word to her for fear of arousing her anger. As it should be.

They approached the inn soon enough.

To say Cersei was incensed would be putting it mildly, the inn that they were going to stay in could barely be considered habitable. What kind of lowborn scum did they think she was to have her stay in this repulsive building.

Her wretched brother sent her a victorious smirk as she passed him, clearly taking pleasure in her reaction. She wanted to strangle the beast right then and there.

The warning look in her Aunt's eyes stopped her in her tracks.

Her Uncle's reaction didn't help, "Get over yourself niece, it isn't that bad." Gerion spoke up condescendingly.

"YOU EXPECT TO STAY IN THAT!" She screeched for all to hear.

"Come on dear sister, it's not that bad," Tyrion said.

Before she could rush to strangle the little shit, her Aunt Genna swiftly moved and grabbed her arms, dragging her as they made their way to the Inn.

"You wanted a break from the Wheelhouse, this is it," Genna spoke calmly, not in the slightest bothered by the deranged look in her niece's eye.

Cersei could only follow her Aunt, attempting to look dignified as Genna dragged her.

Moments later they were inside the inn, which looked somewhat cleaner than its exterior. The innkeeper and what she assumed was his family bowed their heads toward the Lannister family as soon as they entered the building.

"Grim Inn is yours my Lord." The innspeaker said to Tyrion respectfully.

"A pleasure to be here," Tyrion said good-naturedly to the nervous man.

"Thank you, my Lord. All rooms have been prepared as specified and the food is ready to be sent to your rooms whenever you want."

"Good, though I'll be coming down here for my meal in a short while."

"As you wish my Lord."

Nodding towards the innkeepers, Tyrion followed one of the maids who guided him to his room.

The same happened with the rest of the family, as a maid stood nervously before Cersei, ready to guide her when she wanted.

"M… Myy… My Lady." the maid stuttered as Cersei eyed her with irritation, earning a scoff from the annoyed lioness. Still, she chose to follow the stupid girl, if only so she could simmer her anger in peace.

"How long has this Inn been around?" Her Aunt asked, distracting the vapid doe and no doubt still hovering over her to make sure she didn't take out her anger on the stupid girl.

"About four moons or so, my Lady." seeming more at ease with the older Lannister, how presumptuous of her.

"So recent?"

"It was the war my Lady, Pa didn't know if it was safe to open again, so he saved what coin we had and waited for things to quiet down."

"Wise man. I'm sure your family will do well in the coming years then," Genna assured the girl.

A snort escaped Cersei as she watched the girl's eyes light up at her Aunt's words, recognition from a Great House would no doubt bring this inn a lot of prestige that the rats would no doubt use for their own profit.

Though she remained silent after her Aunt sent her a stern look.

"Pa sure hopes so, he says it was only thanks to the King's assurance that he opened up the inn again." The girl said excitedly.

"King?" that caught Cersei's interest. "What does the King have to do with this shack?"

Averting her eyes from Cersei, the girl spoke more softly, "The Banners have been getting rid of any bandits they can find."

"With fewer bandits to worry about, more travelers and merchants would stop at the inn on their way to wherever they're going." Genna reasoned, getting a nod from the girl as they finally reached their rooms.

"Pa was worried they'd come and rob the Inn like they did with the Jeffersons." The maid explained. "The King's men made short work of those bad men real quick."

"Thank you, you may leave now." Throwing a silver coin towards the maid, ushering Cersei into her room for now.

Delighted, the girl bowed her head to the two Lannister women deeply before rushing back to her family. Cersei's and Genna's handmaidens waited just outside the door in case they were needed.

Seating themselves on what would be her bed for the night, Cersei glared at her aunt, who was staring at her with that same damned disappointed look.

"Your mother would weep at what's become of you," Genna said.

"That beast killed my mother." Cersei retorted heatedly.

"He is your brother, you will address him as such."

"My only brother burned alongside father." plunging the room into silence before a loud slap could be heard.

"ENOUGH!." The fury in Genna's voice was audible to all nearby.

Holding her pained cheek, Cersei merely glared at her aunt. The old bitch always cared more for the stunted shit.

"You will be wed to a loyal lord as soon as we return from the tournament," Genna said uncaringly.

"No…"

"You will do your duty to House Lannister. There is no discussing this."

"You can't do this to me. I'm a Lioness, I will not be humiliated!" Cersei tried to argue.

"A lioness who has consistently undermined her pride. At least this way you would finally contribute to House Lannister instead of dividing it." Genna shook her head at her foolish niece.

"Father would never have stood for this."

"Don't be so ridiculous niece, we both know he would have done so if properly incentivized."

"This… This…"

Not wanting to hear any more of this, Genna stood up and made her way out of the room, "We tried to keep the peace, dear Niece, you just refused to heed it." were her last words before she left.

Moments later, a loud screech of anger and frustration could be heard coming from Cersei's room before all went silent.

…

(Stannis Durrandon, Bronzegate)

Stannis sat alongside his wife at the high table, having been placed in the position of honor by his leal vassal Ralph Buckler.

It was due to his wife's insistence and the word of his sworn sword Brus Buckler that he agreed to spend the night at Bronzegate, having originally intended to camp out. Worry about her health and the need for proper rest, was what convinced him to stay within Bronzegate.

Steffon sat at the lower tables, conversing with the Buckler heir and the other younger members of the castle. No doubt discussing the upcoming tournament or such.

His son had inherited the charisma that both his father and brother had been well known for, holding the attention of the whole table as he spoke of tales about his prowess and skill. The boy was growing up tall and strong just like his predecessors, something that relieved Stannis.

The elder Steffon had been able to befriend Tywin Lannister of all people, if there was one person Stannis hoped his son would embody, it would be his father.

There was some worry that the Siege of Storm's End would have left its mark on him as it had done with Renly, thankfully those worries never came to fruition.

Rolling his eyes at the antics of his son, Stannis turned to his wife, sending a concerned glance towards her.

Jeyne was now pregnant with their second child and he had been wary of bringing her to travel with them. His wife, being her usual stubborn self, had adamantly refused to stay behind in Storm's End and had forced her way into the trip as usual.

She was at the moment conversing with Lady Buckler, who also happened to be pregnant. The two were practically in their own world not caring a wit for what was occurring around them as they talked about their experiences and gave each other advice on how to deal with their respective pregnancies.

He had a headache already thinking about all the changes Jeyne was planning for Storm's End once they got back from the tournament. Something about a turnip he assumed.

Still, it kept the Bucklers close and Ralph certainly looked pleased that his wife had managed to get close to Jeyne. Ralph was of the reliable sort, but like every other lord, he too sought to be closer to the Durrandons, now that Erlend's favor on them was clear for all to see.

Politics gave him a headache, he was just glad no one was pushing to put him on a long-gone throne.

This stop had at least brought some relief to his retinue, they had traveled the Kingsroad and slept in tents for quite a while now, and the stormy weather that the Kingdom was known for had not helped whatsoever.

Thankfully the weather began to change for the better and it was expected for it to be much calmer when they continued their trip.

Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but dozens of handmaidens and caretakers had been brought in to take care of his wife and son. Many of them were unprepared for the difficulties of the trip.

"My Lord, I take it you haven't heard of the new changes in the Riverlands?" Bucklers spoke, interrupting his thoughts.

"Changes?" Stannis responded.

"Rumor has it that the River Lords can no longer raise any new castles within the Riverlands without the express permission of His Majesty."

"What!" that alarmed Stannis greatly. "Are you sure?"

Ralph nodded his head. "His Majesty considers it a waste of time and resources, especially since the Great Fortresses now make it impossible for any army to invade the Riverland without first taking them."

"Only a fool would leave a heavily fortified hostile stronghold behind their backs."

"My thoughts are exactly, my Lord."

"What of the Riverlords, I doubt they would take the decision kindly," Stannis asked.

Lord Buckler took a while to think of a response. "There has been a mixed response from them, while many are unhappy, most chose to remain quiet."

"Of all the Lords within the Realm, I thought they'd show the most resistance to such a decision. As you know, our ancestors could rarely cow them for long whenever they held the Riverlands."

"Most believe it was done to mitigate the petty rivalries between the rivermen," Ralph said, earning him a baffled look from his liege.

It was his cousin Brus Buckler and Stannis's sworn sword that answered the question. "You might not know this my Lord, but if I have it right, shortly before the Greyjoy's incursions, two minor river houses entered into a blood feud where they reportedly slaughtered each other to the last man, to the point that only one child remained alive from either house."

"How is it we haven't received word of this and what does it have to do with not being able to build castles?" Stannis pressed.

"The blood feud started because one house chose to blatantly build a keep on disputed lands between them, the other house didn't take too kindly to it."

"Why didn't they take it up with the King and let him settle the matter?"

Brus shrugged at that, not knowing the answer to it. "Whatever the reason, it caused so much damage that it forced the King's hand. It's said that the reason he was so incensed about the whole matter was that a lot of villages were caught in the crossfire and suffered for it. As you know he has long been emphasizing the importance of avoiding needless slaughters."

Stannis inwardly snorted at such an assumption, this was rich coming from a man infamously known as the Butcher of the Great Grass Sea.

"Perhaps this will stop them from forming new blood feuds…" Ralph suggested.

"And Tywin Lannister would come back from the dead just to shit gold." was his brother's counter.

Stannis looked greatly annoyed by this new development. There was some worry that the King might apply this law to the rest of the Realm but so far outside of the Vale and the Iron Islands. Erlend had shown little interest in the other kingdoms, letting them rule autonomously for the most part.

It was odd, considering how ambitious the man had proved to be. Stannis might be loyal, but he was well aware of how much importance the King placed on centralizing authority.

He just hoped that the young conqueror wouldn't do anything too drastic.

The conversation between the three shifted slowly to other topics such as the rise of the triarchy and other such matters that concerned the Stormlands.

…

"Did you enjoy the feast, my love?" Jeyne smiled at her husband as they prepared themselves for bed.

"As well as I could." He answered.

Moving closer to her husband, the former Swann placed her hands on his cheeks before sharing a brief kiss with the Stag Lord.

Once they parted she sighed at her husband "You worry too much"

"Quite the opposite my dear, I worry too little." Jeyne rolled her eyes unimpressed by his retort.

Ignoring her eyes, Stannis helped his wife get on the bed, as she let out a relieved sigh at finally being able to relax on something soft and comfortable. "Why do you wish to travel to Firmridge so swiftly, many Lords and Ladies have yet to make it outside their castles." was the question that had been on her mind.

"So that Steffon can befriend the Crown Prince without any interference." was his reply.

"Love you're beginning to sound like my father."

Looking intently at the woman he loved, "Nothing like that, I just hope those two can be a good influence on each other. There is no position safer for Steffon to be in, than being friends with young Edmund." He explained.

"Like your brother and Eddard Stark?"

"Exactly."

Jeyne stared at her husband amusedly, "Poor Eddard certainly couldn't stop your brother from whoring around." Jeyne jested.

Ignoring her poor joke, Stannis simply held his wife in his arms as they lay on the bed, a comfortable silence filling the chambers.

His thoughts predictably shifted to the tournament. It should allow him to get a more in-depth view of his liege and his ambitions.

There was some hope that with the fall of the Iron Islands, Erlend might finally be satisfied with his current achievements, then again that seemed highly unlikely with the trouble brewing in Essos.

The Mudds' existence was too deeply intertwined with that continent for them to just ignore it.

Rumors had also spread about a valyrian Captain-General of the Golden Company had begun seeping into Westeros. Stannis dared not underestimate her just because she was a woman.

They had greatly underestimated Erlend and his banners and look where that got them.

"Mudds and Blackfyres. What next… Grumkins and Snarks."(Stannis Durrandon, Firmridge)

Stannis clutched the reins of his horse as they arrived in the Capital. The small settlement that used to surround the keep is now a fledgling city in its own right.

It had taken some time for them to enter the city, as a large flow of merchants, travelers, and migrants entered the city, only made worse by the Tournament as men from all over the realm came to witness or participate in the first Grand Tourney since Harrenhal.

Much to his surprise the city was a stark contrast to King's Landing or even Lannisport, for one, there were no slums in sight. Another would be the casual air around the smallfolk who did not bat an eye at the presence of his party, something practically unheard of in the former capital where peasants would flock to nobles in the hope of coin.

The air not stinking of shit certainly helped, not to mention that a majority of the smallfolk were dressed in clothing that felt remarkably similar to what a minor noble would be seen in.

It was quite the sight and clearly, he wasn't the only one surprised by it. Many of his party were staring in shock at their surroundings, taken aback by how prosperous the Capital seemed to be, despite it being only a few years since it was first built.

Steffon looked star-struck, his son seemed enamored by the sight around him. If the occasion wasn't so important, he wouldn't be surprised if the lad ran around, exploring the city.

Both his son and wife sat in a small wheelhouse, while he and the rest of the party rode either behind it or next to it.

"I take it that you like what you see, my Lord?" His guide asked.

The man, a minor noble from the Riverlands he assumed, had arrived alongside a team of guards to escort them to the castle once their identity had been confirmed. Whether it was protection or to prevent him from sending any spies around the city, he didn't know.

"It's quite the improvement from my last visit," Stannis answered, refusing to give the man an inch.

"With the projects being completed all around the Riverlands, much focus has been placed onto the Capital recently." Their guide explained.

"Do you mean to say that developing the capital hadn't been His Majesty's primary goal?" Jeyne looked taken aback by that revelation.

Stannis barely kept his reaction in check at that revelation. If they could build what was quickly becoming a major city within Westeros without much focus, what had they managed to achieve in the projects Erlend actually cared for?

Steffon, who was riding alongside his mother, looked at the guide with curiosity "Is it true that the curse of Harrenhal vanished when King Erlend claimed the haunted castle?" he asked.

"No one really knows, many say the gods themselves cleansed these lands once His Majesty made these lands his home. Truly our King may be blessed by the Seven." the Guide said with a proud look.

Stannis inwardly scoffed at such nonsense, while the Harrenhal had been quite grim and a depressing castle on its own, he assumed it was the vast resources and wealth that had allowed the King to finally be rid of the so-called curse.

If faith was all it took, then the Whents would have gotten rid of the curse swiftly on their own, they were some of the most pious nobles in Westeros after all.

(A/N: Hoster felt too pragmatic to be all that religious aside from the necessities, so I figured Catelyn had to have gotten it from someone, and it definitely wasn't from the Blackfish.)

Sure they had gained immense wealth from holding some of the richest lands on the continent, but it was barely enough to maintain the castle.

Fools, the whole lot of them. The king was likely aware of the sheer cost of maintaining such a behemoth, so he took it down. Tearing down the castle and building a new one out of it was a far more practical move and saved him a lot of gold in the process.

Jeyne glanced over at him with warmth in her eyes while she fussed over Steffon. His wife knew what was on his mind and certainly assumed the same.

"But I heard there were lights and bright figures made of light surrounding the castle." Steffon protested.

The guide nodded to his son's words, "Ah yes… I too heard of that, some say it was the King's ancestors congratulating him on his reconquest of his fatherland."

"The king was out ridding the land of the bandits and deserters that plagued it while on his way to the Vale, he wasn't even there at the time the storm occurred." Stannis pointed out.

"You think it was a storm, my Lord." the guide said.

"What else could it have been, likely a drunkard's words might have been taken too seriously."

"If you think so, my Lord." His guide said noncommittally.

The man was skeptical of Stannis's reasoning but maintained his silence on the matter. It would not do to offend a Lord Paramount, especially one trusted by the King.

"Do you think that the king and queen will meet us?" Steffon wondered.

"I've heard that King Erlend has been busy making sure the settlement of the refugees is at hand, so it's unlikely I'm afraid," Jeyne answered her son gently.

"Indeed, his Majesty has prioritized the well-being of those hit worst by the wars, he's, unfortunately, thus he's unable to greet you at the moment." Their guide confirmed Jeyne's words.

Stannis nodded his head in understanding, whilst Steffon looked put out at being unable to meet the King.

"You know Stef, you met the King already," Jeyne said to her son.

"I did!" was his shocked response.

"Yes, in fact, he even held you once."

"Father, is this true?" His son's stormy blue eyes looked at him expectantly.

Stannis shook his head at his son's excitement, "Aye, you were but a baby at the time." Confirming his wife's words.

"I hope he remembers me then, I bet Uncle Renly would be jealous."

Renly had been unable to attend the tournament, his poor brother had fallen ill just a few days before they left. Maester Cressen had confirmed that the lad would be fine in a moon's turn but would be unable to make it to the Tourney in time.

An unfortunate incident, but he couldn't delay the trip for him. It would send the wrong message if a Lord Paramount did not attend the tournament held by the King.

…

Finally, they arrived at the gates of the fortress, where they were promptly allowed entry after the Guide informed the keepers of their identities.

While Stannis and his family were the main members of the party, a smaller portion of the Stormlands nobility had opted to join their party, though mostly from the minor nobility.

They rode through the gate once the portcullis was raised and headed straight to the courtyard of the castle.

He pulled his horse to a stop and swiftly dismounted, before moving to help both Jeyne and Steffon step out of the Wheelhouse, as they faced the entourage that stood ready to meet them.

Turning his head towards footsteps striding towards them. His eyes widened at the sight of a much younger version of Erlend moving towards them with a bright smile on his face. It seemed so odd, seeing the usually stern face smile so innocently.

No… it should be the Crown Prince Edmund, his clear sapphire eyes were a quick giveaway of his true identity. Other than his eyes, the boy looked like his father was reborn.

Following behind him was his mother, Queen Catelyn, and the King's paramour, Princess Elia. Instead of the glares or barely concealed hatred that many would expect. The two looked quite amicable and even dare he say on friendly terms with each other.

Not wanting to insult the Royal Family, Stannis quickly bowed his head in respect to them, Jeyne and Steffon following suit.

"Your Highness, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Stannis said.

"None of that Lord Durrandon." The young boy spoke with a wide grin on his face. "According to my father, we're practically family."

This earned a confused glance from Durrandons, as they were unaware of any blood ties between the two Houses.

Catelyn seeing their confusion decided to explain to them, "My husband has decided that since His Uncle the late Lord Arryn raised both Eddard and Robert as if they were his own sons, House Stark and Durrandon by circumstance should be considered kin to us, even if not by blood."

While Stannis tried to make sense of this absurd reasoning, his son had no such qualms. "So does that mean we're cousins now?" Steffon wondered.

"What else could we be?" Was the response from the crown prince.

The two boys showed no hesitation in grinning at each other, with what he felt were near identical mischievous grins. He could already feel a headache coming up. Jeyne looked both wary and relieved that the two heirs got along well, though she was afraid of the chaos they might pull now that her son had a fellow mischief in arms.

"Edmund!" an annoyed voice rang out.

A beautiful young girl who was only a few years younger than Renly appeared. She had dark hair and piercing violet eyes that stared intently at the crown prince. The young girl showed no hesitation in grabbing the younger boy by his arms and pulling him towards her. "You were supposed to wait for me," she said.

She could only be Rhaenys Targaryen he assumed, the King's ward and the poor boy's fiance.

"You were taking too long." the prince muttered, earning a chuckle from his son.

This caught the attention of the princess who simply raised an imperious eyebrow at his son, unimpressed by his presence.

Puffing out his chest, "I'm Edmund's cousin." Steffon said.

Only to receive an unimpressed deadpan from the princess, who snorted at his words, and dragged Prince Edmund away.

"Hey wait, let him go!" Poor Steffon showed no hesitation in following after his friend, trying to save him from the clutches of the princess.

Stannis didn't know what to say at the scene that had just occurred in front of him, it was far too bizarre for him to comprehend.

Looking embarrassed by her daughter's actions, "I apologize for my daughter's behavior, she was quite put out when Edmund befriended Jon and has been very careful in keeping him in her sights. She's been extremely possessive of him lately." Elia clarified.

"Lord Stark's son?" Stannis questioned.

"Indeed, Lord Benjen and his entourage arrived a few days ago." This time the Queen was the one to respond. "Shall we head to the gardens while the servants move all your baggage to your chambers?"

"Ah… thank you, if that's not too much of an issue," Jeyne said.

"You know… the poor girl was worried silly by the idea of so many eligible young ladies showing up for the Tournament." Catelyn continued.

"Ah yes, with young Edmund looking so similar to his father, I'm afraid the Princess will soon be forced to beat them off with a stick," Jeyne said sympathetically.

The women let out a chuckle at the image Jeyne conjured, as they headed towards the Gardens. Though it wasn't that far off from the truth.

Stannis for his part couldn't help but ponder where the King was and what he was currently doing.

…

(Olenna Tyrell, Firmridge)

As they traveled through the Riverlands she noticed the changes made over the past few years.

Both the Kingsroad and parts of the Roseroad that were now situated in the capital region had been improved, their quality now consistent throughout it. Inns littered the way, looking far better maintained than they had been in the past.

They had only managed to view one of the infamous fortresses that surrounded the capital kingdom and it made quite the intimidating sight. Olenna dreaded the thought of having to take the damned thing.

To think that there were four more of them.

Patrols could be regularly seen throughout the roads and the people looked well-fed. A stark contrast to what she had used to in the past.

Passing through the lands that had been previously under the Reach had been awkward, to say the least. Lord Roxton had acted quite insufferable much to her family's irritation, thankfully his wife's presence had kept the fool from taking it too far.

The fools had benefited from Mudd's reforms, making them a hefty sum. She wondered if he ever realized the true reason the crown took him as a vassal.

It also helped that the Banners kept banditry to a minimum within the Riverlands, allowing trade to flow smoothly throughout it.

Due to the most recent fight between her son and Alerie, they had been delayed for quite a while. Olenna had wanted to make it to Firmridge sooner, in hopes that her grandchildren could befriend the Royal Family, hells, even the bastard falcon would've done.

It had taken Leyton himself to convince her daughter-in-law to come and only because he used the fact that little Margaery would be heartbroken if her mother didn't come to visit her.

They would be joined by Paxter shortly after the arrival of the Hightowers and begin making their way to the Riverlands. Thankfully, It was a peaceful if boring trip. Her grandchildren kept themselves entertained by playing among themselves, whilst the adults watched over them.

There had been a few hiccups along the way, but their household guard made quick work of them.

Baelor had boasted about how close Malora had become with the King, not wanting to be overshadowed, Mace did the same. It came to a point where both argued on whether the King preferred Malora or Janna.

It gave her a headache, knowing that they would argue about which of their sister bedded the king the most. Neither Mina nor Alerie appreciated the fact that the two oafs were using their sisters to stroke their egos. It was safe to say they kept their mouths shut after that.

Honestly, if that Mudd boy wasn't so popular and respected, he would have been hailed as the second coming of the Unworthy.

The damned man wasn't even bothering to hide the fact that he took lovers. Hell, what made it worse was that the trout didn't even bat an eye to it and the man had the balls to have a bastard with her own sister no less.

It was baffling to Olenna, though she wouldn't have minded a go at him if only she was a few decades younger. The words Janna used to describe him in her letters certainly had her thoughts running wild.

Unfortunately, Janna couldn't become his wife, as the blasted gigolo had been adamant about securing the Riverlands above all else. At least it proved that the blood of the first men still ran strong within him at least. His stubbornness would have made his ancestors proud she had no doubt.

Shockingly the faith remained silent as ever, last she heard they were still debating on who to name High Septon. She suspected that many of the most devout had purposefully delayed the choosing.

Those old geezers had gotten quite powerful now that there was no singular figure within the faith to curtail their influence. Whoever the new High Septon would be, was likely to be nothing more than a figurehead.

Another tool for the King to use as he saw fit, she assumed.

Interrupting her thoughts was a group of horsemen who rode towards their party. She noticed a short stunted figure with blonde hair so pale it almost appeared white leading them.

The imp of Casterly Rock.

"Greetings my Lords and Ladies, a pleasure to see you here."

"Well met Lord Tyrion, it's a pleasure to see you too," Mace responded first. The oaf was trying to seem in charge as always.

"We noticed your party close by our own, and felt it would've been rude of us to just ride past you."

Mace beamed "Much thanks to your consideration."

"Think nothing of it, my lord, we Great lords should be setting an example for our men to follow." Olenna noticed the emphasis the imp placed on the word.

The frantic nod of her son embarrassed Olenna. She ignored the byplay between the two as she turned her attention to the other members of the pride. Kevan and Genna were keeping a cool eye on her party.

She could practically feel the lack of trust coming from them.

Both parties ended up riding towards the capital, Baelor and Gerion seemed to get along far better than anyone expected. The City was a sight to behold, far larger and more prosperous than she had expected it to be for a new city.

The dwarf and her oaf of a son did seem to get along somewhat but it was strained by the fact that her son kept putting his foot in his mouth.

There was some talk about a potential betrothal between Janna and Tyrion, one she had allowed to be entertained for a few moments, before deciding to put her foot down.

"That's enough Mace."

"Mother?"

Ignoring her son's confusion, she kept her attention on the Lannister Lord "Are you willing to ride against a Dragon for Janna my Lord?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

The visible confusion on his face brought a smirk to her own.

"I don't understand Lady Olenna."

"You're a smart man, Lord Lannister, it's not that hard to figure out."

The smirk on her face did not let out as his gaze switched to her son, clearly wanting an answer to what was going on.

It would be Genna Lannister who first understood the implications of her words, "He's taken another lover!" she said in shock.

They were interrupted by an outraged shout, "That's… That's PREPOSTEROUS!".

In response, Genna Lannister made some sort of excuse she couldn't quite make out, before making her way to the wheelhouse where the shout came from.

That brought the dwarfed lion up short quite swiftly. The man turned apologetically towards Mace, "I'm quite sorry Lord Mace, but I am not looking for a wife at the moment."

The lack of shame and clear nervousness in his tone didn't fool anyone.

"An honor to meet you my Lady." the dwarf said, finally acknowledging her presence.

"At least you're better than your father," She said to the boy.

"You knew him?"

"Who hasn't, I certainly drank to his death."

"MOTHER!"

"Oh… come off Mace, it's not like he hasn't heard these words before."

"You still can't just say that."

"If he took offense to it, he would've said something."

The young Lord hadn't said anything to her words, unsurprising if the Old Lion's attitude of him had any truth to them. Though Kevan looked like he wanted to bore holes into her head.

Gerion merely looked amused while Baelor looked on disapprovingly.

Not that it mattered, she disliked the old lion just moments after first meeting him. Shuddering at the thought of having to live with that ruthless bastard. How that girl Joanna fell in love with him, she would never understand.

"So are you offended or what?"

"No, my Lady, but I advise you to keep your comments to yourself."

Amused by his audacity, "A threat, how refreshing."

The glare she received made for a disturbing sight. His mismatched eyes made it more so. The Boy clearly didn't care for his father, so why was he so offended by her comment?

"I'll keep that in mind for the future, Lord Tyrion"

"See to it that you do." was all he said in response.

Mace did his best to distract the Lord of Casterly Rock, showing he had some tact in him by bringing up some mundane topic or other. Olenna for her part frowned in thought. The threat from the lordling had rubbed her the wrong way. Were her spies discovered?

Perhaps she'd have to have them checked or pushed some of her plans ahead to make sure nothing was awry.

At the moment She listened as her grandchildren curiously asked the Lannister party questions. Something about comparing Westerland Knights to Reach Knights.

This trip was beginning to look far more(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)

Erlend looked on at the assembled guests within the Great Hall. Lords and Ladies from all over the realm sat at their assigned seats waiting for him to speak.

Be it fear, respect, or admiration, they all looked up to him one way or another. The heralds had done a good job spreading the word all over the realm.

Knights and squires had shown up in droves, hoping to showcase their talents and attract the eye of a noble house or impress the realm with their skills. Making a name for themselves was after all their primary goal.

He'd been kept busy these past few weeks, while he could have let Horton and Wyman deal with it, considering it fell under their purview, there was no way he could simply stay out of this.

Not if he wanted it to go the way he envisioned it.

This would be the first Grand Tourney since Harrenhal. It had to go perfectly, any other outcome would stain his reign. All the Great Houses were present, including the North, a novelty, seeing that few actually expected them to show up.

They were mainly here to get a measure of Edmund, to see if his son was worthy of being his successor. Erlend wouldn't be surprised if some of the more ambitious nobility attempted to have their daughters seduce his son, never mind the fact that he was only five.

Then again Rhaenys was becoming very protective of Edmund, his daughter in all but blood was always doing her best to keep her perceived 'enemies' away from the little Prince. Poor Jon and Steffon were only 'allowed' to befriend Edmund in exchange for keeping the sycophants away, that girl knew what she was doing.

Erlend felt like this could become troublesome if Rhaenys went too far, but at the same time, it reassured him that she would be receptive to her coming engagement with Edmund. His other adoptive daughter Saera was proving herself to be Arya reborn, the girl got into just as much trouble as her siblings combined.

Be it in appearance or character, his youngest daughter distinctly resembled the wild she-wolf from the canon timeline. Hell, if it weren't for her soul being completely normal, Erlend would have suspected that she was indeed Arya.

Only he and Lyanna could keep her from going too far. What made it worse was that she picked up the curse words Lyanna tended to spout when annoyed, which was another can of worms on its own.

On the other hand, Dany, the most peaceful of the bunch, preferred to stay closer to him most of the time. The little Dragoness could often be seen taking a nap, reading a tome, or just relaxing in his solar as he worked through the god-forsaken paperwork that plagued him.

Sure she was a bit aggressive when it came to his wife and lovers, but for the most part, she kept the peace. A Targaryen quirk that she no doubt kept from her past life he assumed.

Yes, he was fully aware of Dany's special situation, her soul acted far too similarly to his love, for it not to be the case. The question on his mind was why the old man decided to reincarnate the two dragonesses.

It wasn't all that terrible, Visenya for one was a wealth of knowledge and experience that could not be replicated by any tome, not to mention she knew just what incentives he needed to truly get going. Dany, on the other hand, he had no idea why she would be reincarnated. If his suspicions were true then she was the very same one that burned King's Landing to the ground, which was troublesome on its own.

Still, he appreciated it, as it allowed him to meet Visenya, something he would always be thankful for, despite it all.

The kids made the Castle quite lively and kept things interesting. A nice reprieve from the constant scheming and planning that he had quickly become accustomed to. Unlike in the books or the show, Catelyn didn't seem to mind the presence of his natural-born son Arthur, showering his youngest with affection, he was her nephew after all.

The best way to describe his red-headed wife was that she was placid.

Unfazed by anything happening around her, a serene look could always be seen on his face. It was only in bed that her personality shifted as she tended to pounce on him like a fox on a rabbit, much to his amusement.

This made her the peacemaker in his harem, Lysa not caring a wit for anyone else and Rhaella being far too passive in keeping Elia and Lyanna from at each other's throats. Go figure, those two tended to fight the most, it was startling how they were both so similar, yet so different at the same time.

Only Visenya remained indifferent to the rest, while she accepted their presence, it was unlikely that she'd warm up to them any time soon. Though Malora might be able to befriend her, given enough time.

Putting his attention on his most notable guests. There were the Durrandons and the Starks, which were the great houses he trusted the most to have his back, hence why he greeted them warmly once he was out of his workshop.

A pity he wasn't there when either arrived, but there had been a breakthrough in the study of the blackstone and it could not be left lest he lose trace of it. Malora had been instrumental in helping him achieve that breakthrough, earning her quite a hefty reward.

Next to them were the Tyrells and the Lannisters, whose loyalty would last as long as their interests aligned. Interestingly, the imprints left to observe them had noticed some sort of friction between Tyrion and Olenna. Whatever Olenna had schemed this time around must have pissed off the littlest Lion because he looked ready to murder the old hag.

Useful, but not important at the moment.

Alerie was, as usual, ignoring her oaf of a husband who was boasting about something to Paxter. The Hightower was more interested in fussing over her daughter and getting up to speed with his latest lover Janna.

Janna who only ever gave out news to the Tyrells that she knew Erlend didn't care for, thanks to Malora who had made sure that their newest addition understood the meaning of loyalty. For someone who was so often scatterbrained, the eldest Hightower was proving to be the most resourceful of his lovers.

Margaery herself was a sweet angel, though he could see hints of the shrewdness and wit she would be known for in the future. She tended to stick to Arthur the most, almost attached to the hip of his youngest.

All in all, his family got along well enough, they just tended to be too mischievous if left to their own devices. He really had no desire to look at any more paperwork about the latest prank if he had to be honest.

Erlend knew full well he didn't love his lovers equally, only an idiot could spout such bullshit and expect someone to believe it. He had his favorites and the girls seemed fine with it as long as he allowed them their freedom, something he didn't mind as long as they remained loyal.

Sadly, this was to be expected in a world as grim as this, being Erlend's lover ironically gave them freedom most would never find anywhere else, even if they were to wed to a Lord Paramount or another King.

Gazing at his guests with a blinding smile, "My lords and Ladies, I welcome you all to the tourney of Firmridge!'' The guests all cheered at his words.

"For too long has Westeros suffered. Many here have lost loved ones to this war." Murmurs of agreement could be heard all around, yet he pushed on.

"Gone are the treacherous Ironmen who have plagued these lands and for the devastation they have caused."

"Gone are the mad fools who plunged this continent into despair."

"Let this tourney be a sign of better times to come. Let it usher in an era of peace and prosperity so that their sacrifices won't be in vain," he said loud and clear for all to hear.

Lorimas was the first to respond, "PEACE AND PROSPERITY!."

The guests repeated his words with fervent excitement, stoked by his Uncle.

"PEACE AND PROSPERITY!"

"PEACE AND PROSPERITY!"

"PEACE AND PROSPERITY!"

Erlend simply stared at the energetic guests, motioning for their silence.

"Now then, enjoy yourselves, my lords and ladies, for the following days are sure to be exciting."

As if his words were a signal, the doors opened as servants began to pour in, carrying dishes filled with delicacies and tantalizing cuisine.

The guests eyed the food with hunger and anticipation.

Erlend sat back in his seat as he watched everything unfold with satisfaction. This tourney would be the fire to light the flame that was his reign, may it burn bright.

…

Two boys peeked through the corner of a corridor as they awaited their target.

Unaware of the presence looming behind them while they conscriptly smirked at each other.

"What do you two think you're doing?" An imperious voice sounded behind them.

"Hitting Rhaenys with this pie…" One of the boys answered before pausing.

Both boys slowly turned around to see a young girl standing behind them, unimpressed by their little prank. The blue-eyed boy immediately tried to hide the pie behind his back.

A little too late, considering she had already seen it.

They recognized her immediately, the pale, violet-eyed Valyrian girl could be none other than Daenerys Targaryen, one of the three royal wards of Firmridge. A willful girl who cared little for those her age and preferred spending time in the King's office, watching him work.

"How is throwing a pie at her supposed to lighten her up to you." She deadpanned, earning an embarrassed look from both of them.

"It was Jon's idea." The young Stag showed no hesitation and betrayed his former comrade in arms, who sent him an annoyed glare in response.

"A likely tale."

"Why cousin, how could such a dashing young man like me plan something so foul."

Jon stared at his friend with an incredulous look, giving Daenerys all she needed to know who came up with this stupid idea. Then again, she doubted the Stark had the balls to hit the future queen with pie, especially when he was already on her bad side for befriending Edmund without her say so.

Rhaenys could be so possessive sometimes, conveniently ignoring her own behavior regarding the Mudd King.

The only reason she allowed the little shit to call her cousin was due to her King's request. He wanted both Starks and Bara… Durrandons as dependable allies to Edmund, thus she had to play along with this charade.

"So cousin, what do you want to do?"

"Read, preferably away from you mutts."

"Your words don't hurt me, foul beast."

"It's Dragoness you imbecile. If you're going to call me a beast, at least get it right."

The Stag heir gave her a surprised glance, having expected her to become enraged at his words. All she did was look at him in annoyance before ignoring him once more.

"She seems nice..ish." He whispered to his friend.

"I thought she would be worse." was Jon's response.

Said girl could hear them clearly but chose to continue ignoring them, creating an awkward atmosphere.

"So, are you going to tell Rhaenys?" Steffon finally asked.

"I don't care what you idiots do, as long as you don't involve me."

This had the young Durrandon look relieved, he knew it was hardly going to make the tense situation between them and Rhaenys better, but by the Seven did he want to wipe that stupid smirk off the ornish princess's face?

Seven's damn it, how were he and Jon supposed to form a proper team with Edmund if she kept getting in the way.

Jon stopped in his tracks as if coming to a sudden realization.

"You know… we could just swear to keep the other noble girls and ladies from Edmund," Jon suggested hesitatingly.

"Why would we do that?"

"We'd have a justified reason for her to let us hang out with Ed."

"Huh, that's actually a good idea." Steffon thought about it.

It could work, the girl was bound to care more about keeping the hags and girls away from her betrothed.

Also, Edmund would appreciate it. Mother save him, he himself got propositioned by a lady nearly twice as old as his father and he wouldn't wish that on anyone, maybe on Renly, that one needed to get his head out of the clouds.

A shudder went through his spine at that particular horrid memory.

"Listen to the mutt, hoof for brains, his idea might help you."

Steffon gave the princess a surprised look, who rolled her eyes at him.

"You don't like us."

"Obviously."

"But you're willing to help us."

"The more time you spend with Edmund, the less time I have to make sure you idiots aren't doing anything stupid."

"But Edmund is just as bad as us." Jon protested. They had both been pranked by the little prince and it had only been a few days since the tourney started.

Naturally, both he and Steffon had teamed up to get back at him. Unfortunately, Rhaenys stood guard over the crown prince and allowed little chance for either of them to avenge their loss.

There was also the fact that they genuinely wanted to befriend their fellow comrade in arms, but vengeance came first. Only then could they talk about peace.

"I can't be bothered to care, you're all the same," Daenerys looked apathetic to his protest.

Steffon could sense some disgust in her eyes every time she looked at either of them. Like she ate a particularly sour grape.

He suspected it was because of the original rebellion, but the princess never showed any signs that she cared about her mad father or foolhardy brother. It was honestly unnerving.

"The King doesn't seem to mind."

"You should be glad he's so merciful." There was an odd tilt to her tone.

He had a vague idea of what she was thinking of, or rather who she was thinking about. It was an open secret within the fortress that Daenerys, despite being so young, was besotted with the Conqueror.

The only reason he was even aware of this little information was due to overhearing two maids giggle with each other over this information. When he asked Edmund about it, the prince didn't seem to care.

The royal family had long gotten used to these oddities in the young dragoness. She had been far too serious and intense since a young age, and it clearly showed. So her acting like this felt like a breath of fresh air to the family.

Jon for his part was unnerved by her presence and did his best to use him as a shield against her. Gee, it was like she would suddenly turn into a dragon and burn them both.

"I suppose I should congratulate you for your Uncle's victory in the Archery contest," Daenerys said.

Not certain whether she meant it or not, he went with the safe answer. "Ah yeah… thanks I guess."

"Ser Balon promised to teach me archery." Jon voiced.

"Really?"

Jon seemed proud of it. "Yeah, he said I was a natural at it."

Good for him, Steffon wasn't all that good in archery, according to his Uncle, a blind goose could shoot better than him. Tsk, what does he know, a good hammer could bring down an archer any time of the day.

The three youngsters turned as they heard incoming footsteps, it was Rhaenys and Edmund who stared at them in surprise.

Getting an encouraging look from Jon, and a bored one from Daenerys, he casually chucked the pie behind him and proceeded to walk to the royal heirs with a confident look.

'This will work… hopefully'(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)

Erlend watched the excited crowd as the competitors made their preparations. Sat right next to him were both Catelyn and Edmund, who had Elia and Rhaenys on their respective sides, presenting a unified front to the rest of the realm.

His lovers, at least those who cared for the blood and gore were also sat close by. Placed closest to them among the stands were the Durrandon and Stark families, clearly showing his favor to two great houses.

Yesterday's archery contest had gone well enough, with Balon Swann winning the entire thing. Stannis had even cracked a smile at that, much to the shock of some of his vassals and the rest of the realm.

"Dad, do you have any favorites for the melee?" Edmund asked.

"Oberyn is quite the fighter when he isn't messing about. Uncle Lorimas is no slouch either, especially since I lent him Ardent."

"No one but Dad can beat Uncle Oberyn," Rhaenys affirmed, confident in her Uncle's chances.

"I wouldn't say no one could, sunshine." earning him a pout from his daughter.

"Daaaaaaaad. You promised not to call me that in front of everyone." She stared at him accusingly, as if he had made a grave mistake that would see his ancestors rolling in their graves.

Erlend just shook his head at her dramatics, conveniently ignoring the pointed look he got from Elia, she did always say that Rhae got it from him, which was simply absurd.

Come to think of it, he'd never actually participated in a tourney before, which was a damn shame. He'd loved to have gone up against the likes of Robert and Arthur Dayne, too bad the former was dead and the latter was under house arrest.

He really should do something about that, the former members of the Kingsguard that stood guard at the tower of joy were all still alive. Lyanna seemed to take no small amount of pleasure in reminding them about how they were taken down by small darts of all things.

Most of the competitors were showing off to the crowd, trying to impress the gathered nobility and citizens. However, the more practical ones chose to warm up a bit and get the blood pumping, either by stretching or sparring with their squires and companions.

No matter how small, every advantage can make the difference between victory and defeat. Sometimes keeping a dignified and regal presence could be boring.

He felt like cracking some skulls, damn it, why did Robert have to die too early. Jon Arryn had sent him many invitations to attend tourneys while he was still alive, the old man had wanted to get to know him better, before he kicked the bucket.

A shame that he was too busy dealing with the Dothraki and scheming Braavosi. Though he did visit the old falcon several times when the opportunity arose, nothing like how fanfics tended to depict him.

To his surprise, Cersei Lannister of all people got up from where she was seated and sauntered over to where he was seated. Only after his approval did the guards let her through, "Your Majesty." She bowed her head respectfully.

"Lady Cersei, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I would like to request a private audience with you after the melee is over."

That was quite brazen of her, even Catelyn and Elia looked baffled by her words, while everyone else watched on waiting for his reaction. Interesting, this wasn't how Cersei worked, something must have happened on her trip from Casterly Rock to make her so blatant.

He paused to think of how to respond, he could practically feel desperation, desire, and uneasiness coming from her. The frowns and anger her kin sent her way, made it clear that this was of her own volition, turmoil was afoot in the golden pride it seemed.

"Very well, once the melee is over we shall meet in my solar." He nodded in agreement.

A look of relief spread on her face, "Thank you, your Majesty." She bowed her head once more before heading back to the lion's section.

Tyrion looked like he wanted to strangle his sister, whilst Genna began chastising her niece for her bold actions.

Not wanting to pay any more attention to them, he turned to his wife who looked troubled by what the vindictive lioness could possibly want. "She's going to be more trouble than Lyanna." Catelyn sighed.

"Maybe, but I know you like to solve issues like these, dear." He spoke bemusedly, something she had no good response to.

This wife of his liked to keep his rather sizable harem in check, Visenya was too focused on building up his powerbase in Essos to pay any heed. Of all his lovers, she had the most authority and regularly exercised it, making sure no one caused any issues for him.

For all her supposed gentleness and kindness, she could be very ruthless when it came to threats to the Crown. It fascinated him, how one change in her childhood, seemingly altered her so vastly from her canon counterpart.

The kids for their part ignored what just happened, more interested in competitors than some grasping noblewoman, with the only exception being Dany, who was sending death glares at the lioness.

Well if there was anyone who was going to despise Cersei to the core, then it definitely would be his little dragoness.

…

(Alerie Hightower, Firmridge)

Her husband was in his cups again and bragging to Paxter again, while she fussed over her little rose.

Nearly all of the Westerosi nobility was present today, even the northerners and those lot never bothered to attend anything of note. The only ones who didn't show up were Doran and the Ironmen.

Not that she cared for that gout-ridden price or those glorified rapists. It was a good thing the King had nearly wiped them all out. No matter what those cowards said behind his back.

Even now, the King's men continued to patrol the Iron Islands and make sure no regression would occur. It helped that the majority of the population were former thralls who had little desire to return to the old ways.

She frowned at the Stags and Wolves who sat so close to the Royal Family. Her brothers and the rest of her birth family were at least sat nearby as well, showing the king's favor to them as well.

At least the ones not down fighting. Naturally, as one would expect, it irked the old bitch Olenna that the Hightowers were favored by the crown, just as they had been during King Visery's reign.

She rolled her eyes at the old hag's assumption as if her kin ever needed the help of an outsider to take the Reach. Her family had not desired the Reach since the rise of the Gardners, it was better to have all the attention on someone else her father and grandfather always said.

One just needed to look at the Tullies to understand that. Still, she found it amusing that Olenna thought of her as a demure and meek lady.

You'd think, the number of times she had snapped at her idiot of a husband and broken her facade, that she would realize the mummer's farce she was putting up.

Her son Willas was the perfect example of the obvious, the boy had to have gotten his intelligence from somewhere and it wasn't from his father or late grandfather that was for sure.

Her daughter's face beamed with joy, as she caught up with her brothers. It warmed her heart that her daughter was happy and cared for them, despite the distance between them.

Seven knows her children are the only good thing to come out of her marriage. Janna and Malory did not disappoint thankfully. They had at least made sure Margaery would not forget or hate her.

"How is the King?" Loras asked his sister.

"He's very kind."

"Surely you have something more."

"Aunt Janna and Malory usually keep him to themselves, so it's hard to spend any time with him." Her daughter pouted.

"But they're so boring. Why would the King want to spend time with them?" Loras whined.

Willas coughed in embarrassment, knowing exactly what those 'times' meant. Her son was already growing up.

Alerie for her part inwardly seethed at her best friend and sister's actions. Those harlots did nothing to hide details about their encounter with the King. It often drove her mad with jealousy just at the thought of it.

They should at least have the decency to be more discreet about their encounters with the King damn it. As if sensing her thoughts, Janna sent a smug grin from where she was sitting, before returning to conversing with the infamous Lady Osgrey.

"You're probably too young for those adult conversations, Marg," Willas said, earning him a huff from his sister and a confused one from Loras.

"Am not."

"We're doing this again." Loras quickly put a stop to one of Margaery's favorite retorts, the poor boy had already been browbeaten with those words by his sister since they arrived here.

Her daughter could be very stubborn at the worst of times.

Shifting their attention, "Hey, who's that with the yellow banner and dogs on their shield?" Lores voiced curiously.

"That would be Ser Sandor Clegane," Garlen responded.

"He's ugly."

"Lores!" She admonished her son, who had the decency to look ashamed by his own words.

While she did agree with her boy's words, it didn't mean he could just go around voicing them, especially if one knew how he got them.

"It's not his fault, I heard it was the Mountain who caused his face to turn like that," Willas said somberly, earning a horrified look from his younger siblings.

Sibling rivalries were quite common, but to do something so horrific to your own brother and at such a young age disgusted her. While she and Malora rarely saw eye to eye, she still loved her outlandish sister.

"It's a good thing he's dead," Garlen said.

Not liking the turn their conversation was going, "That's enough of that, the Melee is starting." She said, putting an end to their conversation before it could go any deeper.

Her children put their focus on the rest of the competitors, though she had no doubt this conversation had affected them, perhaps for the better.

…

(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)

Some of the very best warriors within the realm were participating in the melee, eager to showcase their skills and win honor for themselves.

Sat atop their mounts, they all eyed each other warily, assessing their opponents for any sign of weakness, while their squires made sure everything was in order before returning to their place.

Cheering for them were crowds of smallfolk and the various young nobles present.

"My Lords and Ladies. Men and Women of Westeros" at the Herald's announcement all went silent. "On behalf of His Majesty. I welcome you all to today's event the melee. In front of you stand a hundred men who seek to prove their skill and might for all to see."

"A hundred men who will fight for the right to be champion of the realm. With it an opportunity to join the royal guard and a tantalizing prize of 30,000 golden crowns."

"Lorimas Iron Mudd, Bronze Yohn Royce, Ser Lyle Crakehall the Strongboar, and Lord Desmond Sharpclaw Osgrey are just a few of the notable warriors that we will witness on this fine day." the herald said whipping up the crowd as some of those mentioned waved.

"We cannot forget Prince Oberyn Martell, Ser Tygett Lannister, Lord Jason Mallister, Thoros of Myr, and the infamous Ser Sandor Clegane who are bound to make this an exciting battle."

As the herald did his best to whip up the crowd, the participants made their way to the arena, waving to the crowds and proudly presenting their favors if they had one.

Once they made it in front of the King and the Royal Family, the warriors and herald bowed their heads respectfully, awaiting his command.

Erlend for his part motioned for them to rise and for the herald to continue.

"The rules are as follows. Any who yield must be allowed to leave, their armor to be ransomed by their opponent. The last two competitors are expected to follow the dueling rules and any foul play will have you disqualified and disgraced on the spot. Whoever remains standing last shall be declared the victor." the herald explained, "May the best man win and let the melee commence."

As the herald made his exit, the crowds roared in excitement for what was to come.

…

Sandor glared at anyone who looked at him, his presence in this damned tourney was more out of necessity than any desire for glory. That cunt had left their house nearly penniless and those 30,000 golden crowns would greatly alleviate his situation.

Readying himself for the bloodbath to come. The horses began to fidget as they sensed the tension in the air while the crowd excitedly cheered their favorites on. Sandor kept his hands firmly on the reins of the steed, it would not do to have an accident, not when he was free of that blasted monster that shared his blood.

…

Once the melee commenced, all the participants swiftly drew their blades. Three particular blades stood out to the crowds, Longclaw wielded by Lord Jorah Mormont, the fiery green blade wielded by the red priest Thoros of Myr, and Ardent wielded by Lorimas Mudd.

Each was unique in its way and each with an advantage that made their opponent leery of facing them.

On the field, Bronze Yohn and Lorimas teamed up and faced off against Ser Lyle Crakehall and Ser Sandor Clegane.

…

Sandor made swift work of those stupid enough to rush him, a Riverlander knight had been the first to fall to him and a few Northmen fell with him soon after. He couldn't tell their arms or cared enough to check outside of the gold it would give.

"FACE ME CLEGANE!" one of the runts shouted. Oh joy, a glory hound.

Sandor ignored the boy's words, swinging his sword heavily down at the green boy who likely expected some words in return.

The boy was quick he'd give him that, moving to parry his attack.

However, he failed to do so in time, as his blow caught him on the shoulder before he could react. The blow almost sent him reeling back, and refusing to give the idiot any more time, Sandor raised his blade again and knocked the dumb shit off his horse.

Disoriented, the fool could do nothing as the sword was placed at his neck, forcing him to yield to the grizzled warrior.

"The shitstain had some good quality armor, that'll make for a decent sum," Sandor grumbled.

The Reachmen and Stormlanders seemed more interested in trying to cut each other down than paying any attention to the other participants, something he was content with ignoring.

Let the fools whittle away at their numbers.

He hadn't expected to team up with Crakehall of all people, but at least he would be useful in keeping Mudd away from him.

Sandor wasn't stupid enough to tangle castle-forged steel with whatever the fuck Ardent seemed to be made off.

Rumors had spread about the blade, sister-blade to Dawn some called it, a load of nonsense but not ones he was willing to personally check.

His focus stopped at the old man who would be his opponent.

…

Yohn shook his head in mild exasperation at his friend's booming laughter and roars of approval as the Strongboar gave him a good fight.

This was something the old friends greatly enjoyed, there was nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping and the memories jogging.

Clegane was certainly giving him a good fight he'd admit, say what you will about the man's personality, but he did not lack in skills. Nothing like his brother, that brute relied on immense strength and reach to beat down his opponents.

Both brothers were dangerous in their rights, at least this one wasn't likely to murder him on the spot for any perceived slight.

"Quite the knight aren't you Clegane."

The man snorted in response, his face serious while his eyes bore holes into his skull.

Not a fan of Knights… should've known. Though there was some irony there, considering his status as a landed knight. Shaking his head, they both continued their fight, neither giving an inch to the other as they both tried to win. This would not be an easy win for either of the two warriors.

…

Edmund was engrossed by the sight in front of him, it wasn't every day one got to see such a sight.

"When can I participate, Dad?" He asked.

"You're far too young for any of that, Eddy." His father responded.

"Am not." Only to receive a kick on his shin from Dany before he could start.

"The heck was that for!"

"For being an idiot." She said, turning her attention back to his father.

Edmund did the mature thing and stuck his tongue rudely before looking back towards the melee. He and the crowd cheered when Grampa Lorimas beat that man called Strongboar and forced him to yield.

His gramps dared to smirk at Yohn, choosing to stand guard for his friend and Clegane as they fought. A few of the younger participants had attempted to catch the two fighters unaware, though the old man made quick work of them.

The two blades moved almost all too fast for him to see, the ferocity they showed and the way they somehow managed to react to each other was quite the sight. Neither side gave an inch as more combatants were eliminated around them.

Edmund swore he'd one day fight just as well, if not better than the two.

…

Sandor grinned inwardly as he felt the old man's strikes beginning to wane, the bronze lord was tiring.

Sandor swiftly made a strike on his left, with the man managing to block it in time, though visibly grimacing in pain. Pressing his advantage, he made a strike on his opponent's left again.

The Lord intended to side-step the hound's next attack, only for him to be met with the man's blade again. A constant flurry of attacks followed before a well-timed move managed to disarm the bronze warrior.

With a blade to his neck, Yohn yielded, having no other choice. "You win Clegane, the day is yours."

A gruff 'Yes' was all he was getting from the hound who quickly made his way to his next opponent. Mudd had moved to find his next opponent once his friend was disarmed.

He'd get to the hound, eventually…