Chapter 21: Chapter 21
Hello and welcome to the newest chapter of this story!
A noble's nameday was a pricey occasion, but one that always aroused the interest of the people, and the nameday of a King was even more impressive, and King Joffrey's nameday certainly was an impressive affair. Currently, Joffrey, along with Tomman and Sansa, were observing a duel between the Hound and another knight. The knight was obviously skilled, but the Hound was far stronger. He knocked the knight's shield away and shoved him off the wall, sending him crashing to the ground below.
"Well struck, dog." Joffrey said, as he turned to Sansa. "Did you like it?" he asked, a manic glee in his face.
"It was well struck, Your Grace." Sansa replied, almost automatically.
"I already said that." He replied testily.
"Yes, Your Grace." Again, the words came out of her mouth automatically. The announcer called for the next fight, but she wasn't listening. How had she ended up in this situation? She saw it now; she had been stupid. Deep down, she knew her only hope was that Robb or Steffon would take the city soon. Her attentios was grabbed again when Joffrey ordered Ser Meryn Trant and another Kingsgaurd knight to funnel wine into the mouth of the hapless, fat knight that she knew as Ser Dontos Hollard. "You can't!" She cried out, but as soo an she said it, she realised how feeble it sounded.
"Did you say I can't?" Joffrey asked angrily.
"Your Grace, I only meant it would be bad luck to kill a man on your nameday." She said. Joffrey rolled his eyes.
"What kind of stupid superstition is that?" He snapped.
"It's true. What a man sows on his nameday, he reaps all year." The Hound said, having made his way up to them. Joffrey sighed.
"Fine. I'll have the fool killed tomorrow then." He said, making a dismissive gesture. At that moment, Sansa had an idea.
"He is. A fool-you're so clever to see it, Your Grace! He'll make a much better fool than knight; he doesn't deserve a quick death." She said. She saw Joffrey mull it over for a few seconds.
"Did you hear my lady, Ser Dontos? From this day forward, you'll be my new fool."
"Oh thank you, Your Grace. My Lady." He said gratefully. As he was herded away, Sansa noticed a group of men that could've passed for Wildlings. Even more strange was the man leading them in.
"Beloved nephew!" Tyrion said. "We looked for you on the battlefield, but we couldn't find you."
"I've been ruling the kingdoms."
"And what a fine job you have done. Look at you!" He said, turning to Tommen. "You'll be as big as the Hound!" He exclaimed playfully. He turned around to be met with the Hound's same stoic expression. He doesn't like me very much."
"Really? Can't imagine why." The man next to Tyrion snarked. Tyrion walked up to Sansa.
"My Lady, I'm sorry for your loss." He said. Sansa smiled sadly.
"Her loss?!" Joffrey spluttered. "Her father was a traitor who was killed by the City Watch!"
"But still her father. Surely you can sympathise, having recently lost your own father. Possibly the one thing you and your brother on Dragonstone can agree upon. Anyway, I would love to stay, but I have places to go and things to do." He said, walking off.
"What things? Why are you here?" Joffrey called. He didn't get a reply.
Tyrion entered the Council chamber to find the entire Small Council assembled, obviously with Cersei heading the meeting. "More ravishing than ever, dear sister." He kissed her cheek. "War agrees with you. Do forgive the interruption; carry on." He said in a businesslike manner.
"Why are you here?" Cersei asked.
'What an adventure I've had. Pissed of the edge off the wall, slept in one of the famous Sky Clles, fought with the Hill Tribes of the Vale. So many adventures . . ." He trailed off, taking a glass and filling it with wine before taking a gulp.
"Why are you here?" Cersei asked again.
"I believe the Hand of the King is allowed to attend Council meetings."
"Our father is Hand of the King." She snapped.
"Yes, but in his absence…" Tyrion pulled a roll of paper from his belt before handing it to Varys. Unrolling the parchment, Varys read the letter before giving Cersei the news.
"Your father has named Lord Tyrion to serve as Hand in his stead while he fights in the war."
"Out! All of you out!" Cersei ordered, rising from her seat and slamming her hands on the table. As the small council left the room, Cersei fixed her glare at Tyrion, who stirred his glass of wine in his hand. "I would like to know how you tricked father into this." Tyrion scoffed before taking a sip of his wine.
"If I were capable of tricking our father I would be sitting on the Iron Throne myself, dear sister." He replied, casually. "You brought this on yourself."
"I've done nothing." Cersei replied, taking a seat close to her younger brother.
"For the North, you are quite right. But for Steffon, your own flesh and blood, you instructed him to choose his brother over the girl he loves. You should know by now that Steffon thinks far more for her than he does for you. Father has already come to the conclusion that Robb Stark has sworn loyalty to Steffon, seeing how he is the brother of his betrothed, and our reports are reflecting that."
Cersei scoffed. "Robb is a child."
"Who has won every battle he's fought. And managed to outwit father sufficiently to destroy one of our hosts and capture Jaime." Tyrion interjected. "Do you understand that we are losing?"
"What do you know of warfare?" Cersei asked.
"Nothing, I'm afraid." Tyrion answered. "But Steffon does. He learned from Lord Stannis and our father, after all."
Cersei mulled it over. Father wouldn't do something like this without reason, she thought. He never does. "Joffrey is King."
"Joffrey is King." Tyrion repeated.
"You're only here to advise him."
"I'm only here to advise him. And if the King listens, he might get his uncle Jaime back." He said. That got his siter's attention.
"How?"
"You love your children. It's your one redeeming quality; that and your cheekbones. Myrcella is effectively a hostage in Winterfell at the moment. We trade Sansa for her."
"And Steffon?" She asked. Tyrion spotted concern in her eyes.
"You are genuinely worried about him, aren't you?"
"Of course I am. I'm living in a nightmare made real." She said, approaching a window. "Both my sons have declared themselves Kings and will go to war over that Throne. I would've at least expected Steffon to swear off killing Joffrey, but he didn't even give that."
"Why would he? You know that they've hated each other their whole lives." Tyrion replied. Cersei let out a sigh; it was true. Tyrion noticed something else. "You're not certain Joffrey will win, are you?" He asked. Cersei remained silent.
Once again, Steffon found himself standing over the painted table again, but this time, he was alone; candlelight and a jug of water his only company. He certainly felt safe enough; Jon was standing outside on guard, and he was certain that Ghost was with him, as much as the Direwolf had made himself invisible for the last few weeks. He poured himself another cup of water and studied the map again. It appeared that Robb was indeed starting to move his focus westward; hopefully he was going to hit the goldmines so they could secure the funds they badly needed.
"You're going to work yourself to death one day." A voice said. He looked up to see Arya slipping into the room. She was wearing a leather jerkin over what looked like a grey cotton dress that reached her knees, boots and a pair of tight pants that clung to her legs. He decided he liked this Arya.
"Are you wearing a dress, Arya?" He asked, smirking.
"No! It's a long tunic." She said.
"Whatever you say, Wolf Girl."
"It is, you stupid Stag Boy!" She insisted.
"Right." Steffon said. Arya lightly punched his shoulder. "Revenge for you and Shireen teasing me over my seasickness." He smirked.
"You're as thick as two short planks." She snarked, making them both laugh as she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Still planning for the war."
"Wars can be won or lost in the blink of an eye. Just look at my father's Rebellion." He sighed again. "Are you still sure about this? You'll be Queen, but you'll be sheltered; you won't be able to go anywhere without around 30 guards with you at all times; you'll have to bear children and-"
"Steffon, shut up. Yes, I might find it unbearable, but I'll do it for you because I love you. Besides, Nymeria was a warrior-Queen."
"And you want to be the next Nymeria?"
"There's no question about it. I will be the next warrior-Queen of Westeros. If you think I'm letting you go into battle without me, then you're even more stupid than I thought." She laughed. Shaking his head and smiling, Steffon turned his face to Arya and tilted her face up before pressing his lips into hers.
"I love you, Arya."
"And I love you, Steffon, but if you stay up here any longer, you'll tire yourself out then you'll be of no use to anyone." She said.
"You're right, Arya. Again."
"Of course I'm right, Stag boy" She said, taking his hand as they exited the chamber.
"You're dismissed for the night Jon." He said. Jon nodded gratefully and signalled for Ghost to follow him. Moments later, Steffon and Arya had reached their bedchamber and Arya disappeared behind the dressing screen to change while Steffon, using what privacy he could get, removed his own jerkin, doublet and trousers and changed into a cotton tunic and pants, all the while watching Arya's body move behind the screen, which she eventually emerged from in a plain grey shift. The two climbed into the bed, with Arya resting her head on Steffon's chest.
"Your heart's racing Steffon." She said.
"That's what you do to me, Arya." He replied. A devious idea entered her head.
"Well, if that's what I do to you now, just imagine what I can do on our wedding night." She said. Steffon's mind, like the mind of every young boy around the girl he was attracted to, ran through the possibilities like a destrier at full gallop.
"Seven hells, Arya."
"I can't wait until we're married." She said. A few months ago, she couldn't have even dreamt saying those words, but now she was certain.
"Neither can I, Arya. Neither can I." He said as sleep began to overtake them.
I know, not as good as you've come to expect from me, but I wanted a chapter that showcased how Cersei felt about Steffon and how Arya and Steffon's relationship has progressed. Again, bit of a slow chapter and not of the usual standard you've come to expect.
By the way, I would like to give credit Termin8r for writing that confrontation between Cersei and Tyrion. I was struggling with it myself, and it definitely helped. Seriously, this guy's been awesome and has been constantly suggesting ways I can improve it and given me ideas for where to take the story. He's planning to publish his first Game of Thrones story soon. I've read his ideas for it and it sounds like he's got it nailed down. So when he publishes it, I'll notify you guys so you can head on over and drop a follow, favourite and review for him.
Cheers, mates.
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