Chapitre 2074: 4
Fate Stay Night belong to Type Moon
Special Thanks!: The Big Cheese himself! All hail the big cheese!
A Throne Nobody Wants
Chapter 4
*** King's Landing- Arya ***
There was a thunderous roar from the crowd as the warrior from Essos was unhorsed by a knight from the Westerlands.
"Lancel! Lancel! Lancel! Lancel!"
Arya Stark of Winterfell joined them as she joined them on her feet and cheered. Immediately however, she felt a pull from her side and knew it was her Septa, rebuking her for the umpteenth time.
"Arya," Septa Mordane, the old woman of the fate dressed in her brown habit, warned. "Your actions reflect upon that of your father and House Stark. Look at Sansa, she's been perfect about it."
"Arggh!" Arya groaned in frustration as she sat down to politely clap with the rest of the ladies of the royal court.
She loved her older sister, she truly did, but it was hard to be in her sister's shadow all her life. Arya, why can't you stitch like Sansa? Arya, why can't you cook like Sansa? Arya, why can't you behave like Sansa? Look at how Sansa took to her lessons. You should too.
She was getting sick of it. The only things in which she surpassed her sister were sword fighting and mounted combat. However, that was nothing when compare to perfect Sansa... and the worst part was her sister's attitude. She never looked down on her, taking out time to help her in areas she needed help, including in the kitchen!
Sansa was perfect and she was just plain old Arya. It didn't matter when Sansa said that she was pretty in her own right. She didn't feel pretty, she was in the rest royal stands when the knights passed by and almost every unattached lady had been asked to grant their favor while she had been completely ignored, as if a child! Well she was not! She was already one and ten! Sansa of course had many looks given to her; she had seen them in the knights' eyes. She was sure her sister would have been flooded with requests if not for the fact that she was betrothed to Joffrey.
"Stupid. Stupid," Arya growled again. Not that she wanted to be a Lady anyway, but it would have felt nice to be appreciated.
Then there's the fact that Bran got to accompanied Ser Jaime Lannister, who had entered the tourney, and get to be among the contestants! That was soo unfair! When she asked her father to go with Bran, he told her it was no place for a lady to be around, among all the men.
She hated being a girl! Why was her father even worried? She wasn't pretty like Sansa!
"It looks like that's the last set for now," Sansa suddenly turned to her and said, her eyes kind as always. It was sooo hard to hate her perfect sister, with her perfect blue eyes and perfect long red hair! So... HARD. "Shall we wander for a bit?"
"Sure..." Arya replied sulkily. Her sister was followed by her father personal guards as they made their way to the food stands. None of it compared to her sister's cooking of course but her sister had not been allowed in the kitchen for three days now. It would be unseemly for the future Queen to be seen cooking when all of the Seven Kingdoms were attending a tourney in honor of her father.
"That smoked deer looked pretty good," Sansa spoke up and made her way to the stand.
"On the house m'lady," The stand owners offered immediately with a bow of his head. The banner of House Stark carried a lot of weight in King's Landing. She could see Sansa's face frown before she gave a resigned sigh and took the two sticks and handed one to her.
Arya wasted no time in eating it and Sansa did so but with not as much gusto. It was bland and lacked flavoring, something Sansa would have been able to fix. Gods she was going to miss her sister in Winterfell.
"So did you grant Joffrey your favor?" Arya asked her sister curiously. She smirked at bit as seeing her sister strained expression. It appeared she was still wrapping her head around the fact that she was to married.
"Father said I should," Sansa spoke with an unidentifiable tone. "So I did."
"Well, I heard he's doing well in the other bracket," Arya stated as she and her sister walk to see other stands along the way. There were some that sold wooden carved toys, one of them being the dire wolves like her own Nymeria.
The tourney was so big that it took three days for them to get to the finals and even had to split the jouster into four different area. However for the finals tourney, the remaining jousters will be battle in front of the King stand and she got front row seats.
"He's only doing well because other people forfeit when they see him," Sansa face frowned again.
Arya face scrunch up at that, she didn't realize Joffrey was getting through the bracket because they were simply giving up before facing him. That was cheap. Joffrey wasn't too bad, he can be a right prick if he wants to be, but his sister keeps him in line. Arya had to smile when she remember how Mordred had taken Joffrey away during their trip back to King Landing.
Joffrey had wanted to impress Sansa by fighting Mycah, the butcher's boy, using a real blade however Mordred had stepped in and said if he had time to fight butcher boys, he had time to train. She was certain that some sort of disaster had been averted as everything had been tense, with Sansa trying to talk the prince down. The next time she had seen Joffrey after that was when he was in his carriage with a black eye.
"Well, my idiot brother is not without some skill," a voice spoke up suddenly behind them.
Arya and Sansa immediately turned around and saw Princess Mordred with her own personal escort wearing the Baratheon stag smiling at them. The princess was dressed in a stylish yellow and red dress, representing the Lannister and Baratheon houses. Her hair was now in the northern braid that she had grown fond of during her stay at Winterfell.
"Your grace," Sansa immediately curtseyed while the Stark guardsmen bowed low. Septa Mordane pulled at her sleeves and she tried to mimic her sister greeting. It was poorly done but the Princess wasn't laughing.
"Your Grace," Arya parroted after Sansa but saw the Princess waved off the bow. The princess had an easy going manner that Arya found quite similar to her own, though and her skill at the blade was nothing short of amazing. She had dueled both Sansa and her, easily defeating them both. It wasn't fair that the princess could swing a bastard sword as fast and nimbly as she could with Needle. She resolved to get better.
"Thank you for speaking with Ser Jaime for Bran, you have pretty much fulfilled his boyhood dream," Sansa smiled warmly to the princess.
'And you couldn't ask the same for me too princess?' Arya wanted to bite out but held her tongue. The last thing she needed was for her Septa to report her behavior to her father, and get punished for it.
"Think nothing of it," The Princess waved off Sansa's thanks.
Sansa, perfect as always, bowed humbly once more before flanking the princess.
"So, who do you think is favor to win?" the Princess asked as she walked between Sansa and her. Their guards seamlessly integrated with one another matching in formation.
"The big guy, the one they call the mountain," Arya spoke up first, she had seen the big man in action, even seen him kill a few jouster. She didn't think anyone can stand up to his strength.
"I think either Ser Jaime or Ser Sandor," Sansa spoke up after giving it some thought. "The Mountains is strong but he doesn't appear to be that skilled."
"What about you?" Arya asked as they started to walk their way back to the royal box. She had to say it but she saw the small folks looking at her sister and the princess in awe. Next to the two beauties, she was a third ugly, unwanted presence. Her sister had her fiery red hair and the princess had her golden strands. She was just dark and wild, with a face that was too long. Some of the kid her age had started to call her Arya Horse-face. It hurt, but not as much as she hurt them for saying it.
"I think either Uncle Jaime or the mysterious Black Knight," Princess Mordred replied, pursing her lips thoughtfully.
"Mysterious Black Knight?" Arya asked looking up to the princess. She didn't remember seeing anyone like that.
"Oh yes, that's his nickname after he entered with a blank black flag, not representing any house." Mordred explained as she looked at Arya and lean in conspiratorially. "Some say he's horribly disfigured that's why he has yet to take off his armor."
Arya could feel her excitement rising. The best part of any tourney would be mysterious knights dueling it out.
"Of course, he wasn't the only mysterious knight, there were lots of others that also had their flag colored black, but he eliminated them all," Princess Mordred replied thoughtfully as they began the turned a corner and saw the royal box coming into view. "Oh look there he is now."
Arya looked over to where the princess pointed and saw at least thirty mounted knights trotting over to their tent separate from the area. There were a lot of black armored knights to contrasting to the white armored one. Yet, there was one black knight in particular that stood out. He was the only one with his helmet still on and there was an aura about him that she couldn't place but it demanded her attention. Looking over to her sister she could see from her sister facial expression, that she thought the same. Even Princess Mordred was looking speculative.
"We don't know what house he is from?" Sansa asked as the mysterious black knight rode out of view.
"Maybe he's a poor bastard trying to win the tourney money," Mordred spoke up as the three girls made their way into the stands.
Arya looked up sharply at the princess before she remembered that their royal companion held no prejudice against bastards. In fact, back at Winterfell, she had often sought out her brother Jon and struck up a conversation with him. There was nothing that she could do to prove it but for some reason, she felt that the princess could empathize with Jon, which was silly because the Princess wasn't a bastard.
"Any case, I hope Joffrey won't disappoint me too much," the Princess began and a vicious gleam entered her eyes. "If he doesn't make it to at least the second round, there'll be hell to pay."
Arya could only smile widely as the princess parted ways from them and made her way to the King.
"I like her," Arya decided. The princess seemed much more grounded than the snobby ladies of the court.
"She's also very unladylike," Septa Mordane, who had been respectfully quiet, clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "That is why you should be thankful every day you never have to luxuriate in decadence."
"... Sure," Arya replied evasively seated herself and listen to the crier introduce the royal family. This was going to take a while.
++++ Arthur++++
Arthur was in his tent sharpening the edge of his great bastard sword, whom he had fondly named Irisviel, when one of his men came in.
"What is it?"
"Prince Oberyn is here to see you Ca- Arthur," Carlus, his personal guard answered. The man was armor lightly, but he was quick with his throwing daggers.
"Send in him," Arthur nodded as turned around to see the Dornishmen disguised in a simple cloak.
"Your Gr- I mean Arthur," Oberyn began with a playful smirk as he took off the cloak. He looked directly at Arthur with a raise eyebrow. "You don't have a squire to sharpen your blade for you?"
Arthur felt his mouth twitch upward slightly, if only Oberyn knew that the best squire was in this room. Anyone else would be garbage compare to himself. "No. I preferred to do it myself. Now why are you risking our cover and coming here?"
"Because I think we have a little problem," Oberyn suddenly said very seriously. He began to pour himself a mug of ale, only to find out that it was water. His nose crinkled in disgust.
"What problem?" Arthur violet eyes snapped to Oberyn face in alarm. "Did someone see through my disguise?"
"No, no, our cover is still good," the Dornishmen replied as he grudgingly drank the water. "No, it's just that you have become too popular. Your skill with a lance is already making rounds through the royal stands. They all want to know who's underneath that mask of the mysterious black knight."
"... So how is that a problem? You said my looks can pass for those from Old Valyria," Arthur's eyes locked onto Oberyn's, forcing the man to look away. Was he going to have to retreat now that judgment was so close for the foul murderer?
"Because, if you remain silent, and kill Gregor Clegane later, it would pretty much seem like you were just trying to kill him and him alone," Oberyn replied and elaborated. "Technically, jousting and the Melee are supposed to be done in the 'spirit of competition' but houses have been known to resolve their feuds with them also."
"And since I am not of a house, they would think I am an assassin sent to kill him and I would be detained," Arthur concluded and sighed.
"Naturally we won't let it end that way," Oberyn respond with hard eyes. "Every Dornishman in the city will fight for you, of that you have my word."
"Too much blood shed, I don't want innocent bystanders to be affected," Arthur spoke up and whispered very softly for Oberyn to hear. "We are not like Clegane. We do have honor."
Oberyn looked surprised by the declaration but there was respect in his eyes. "Aye, that we do."
"So how would you advise our execution of Clegane to be less... obvious?" Arthur hesitatingly beseech the older man. In body if not in spirit.
"Well, you are a mysterious knight, you are also kind of standoffish, many a ladies were trying to get your attention but you have ignored them," Oberyn listed to Arthur who could only fail to see the point. "To make yourself more amicable in people eyes... perhaps you can ask for a Lady's favor?"
Arthur eyes widen and suddenly blushed. "I- I am n-not courting anybody!"
Oberyn eyes widen comically for a moment before he began laughing, causing Arthur to redden further. "A Lady's Favor is not an engagement or a betrothal, it just shows interest that need not be pursued, you can always let the lady down gently when the time comes."
Arthur frowned a bit before nodding. Obviously the meaning of a lady favor here was different than the one back in Camelot. In Britannia, it was as good as an engagement request. Yet another difference between Westeros than Britannia. If he had to say, it's that their morals and honors were... looser.
"Hey, maybe you should asked one of Princess Mordred, I heard she hasn't granted hers to any knight yet," Oberyn grinned but wavered as he saw Arthur's expression.
Arthur for his part had set his face, the fact that there was a princess here name Mordred had shocked him. Thankfully, he had seen said princess and was relieved to find out that she looked nothing like the Mordred he knew. This princess had a fairer face,the gold in her hair was a touch deeper and the green in the eyes were different from the piercing one he had faced on the battle field. More importantly, she was taller, still shorter than Arthur's male body, but taller than what they were before at Camlann.
The face however was pretty in its own right . The name might have been the same, but Oberyn had assured him that Mordred was a known Lannister name.
"I'll pass on that," Arthur slowly as he finished the sharpening of his sword. "I'll make do."
Suddenly, the trumpet blared, signaling it was time to parade in front of the royal family. Nodding to the Dornish prince, he put his helmet back on and strode out of the tent with purpose. Mounting his black steed, he was the last in line. Slowly, the knights began to ride forth at a slow trot as the small folks yelled in support while the nobles clapped.
Arthur rolled his eyes as many of the knight stopped by some of the prettier looking ladies of the court and asking to fight in their honor and beg a favor. Grimacing, he searched the stands too before his eyes fell upon the girl next to the King's Hand, Lord Eddard Stark if he remembered correctly. The girl could be no more than ten or eleven. She was dressed in blue and gray colors and appeared to be feigning boredom but he could see that her eyes and body tensed as each knights passed by her. Her expression was downcast as those knights passed by her and asked other ladies favor. The girl was a child trying to be recognized as a woman.
Arthur grinned. Her innocence reminded Arthur of his own little sister... well before she flowered. With a nod, he made up his mind. Easing his horse toward her direction, he felt many eyes on him and heard whispers from the men. Many of the ladies gave him hopeful looks but he ignored it as he stopped in front of the bored girl, who eyes grew wide when he had done so.
"May I ask your name my Lady?" Arthur spoke up and heard a brush of muttering through the stands all looking at him. The girl appeared stunned and her father, the hand shot him an unreadable look; even the red hair girl next to her appeared a bit shocked by the development.
"A-Arya of house Stark," the girl, Arya, stammered as if she was still surprised anyone would approach her.
"Then, My Lady Arya of House Stark, may I beg a favor from you?"
There was a stunned expression on those presence around the girl, and he could feel princess Mordred eyes boring into him. He still had to suppress a chuckle of thinking of a princess with Mordred's name.
However, the girl suddenly gave him the brightest smile ever and nodded vigorous making the red head next to her smile while the father look on indulgently. The girl shyly took out a cloth with a badly stitched picture of what Arthur could only presume to be a dog on it.
"If you would be so kind as to tie it to my right wrist," Arthur requested and saw the girl blush when she noticed a lot of the eyes were now on her. Still, she bravely met his look and tied it firmly around his wrist.
"They say you are horribly disfigured underneath that helmet," the girl spoke up suddenly. "Won't you show me your face?"
Arthur grinned underneath his helm and slowly backed away from the rails, seeing the disappointment in her stormy grey eyes. "If I lose then it's best that you never saw it."
With a soft nudging of his foot he trot pass the royal family and looked upon the King of all the Seven kingdoms for the first time. Arthur found it hard to believe that someone of that rotund shape could have defeated Rhaegar and won the Seven kingdom. Maybe his strength belied his frame. Whether it was the king that ordered his assassination or not, he could not tell. After all, many things could happen under a king's nose. Arthur had first-hand experience with that.
Tilting his head in a respectful manner, he rode past the royal family and went to the waiting area with the rest of the mounted knights. Searching it, he saw the banner of the three headed dog and the mountain of a man, Gregor Clegane.
Arthur would bide his time, looking at the match board, he can ride against Gregor in the second round, with Prince Joffrey being the first.
++++ Mordred+++
Mordred had kept her eyes on the black knight until he faded behind the contestant area. She could feel Tommen's excitement at the mysterious figure who had been making waves through the contest. Her little sister was the same, she would bet a thousand dragons that her little sister had wished the black knight asked her for her favor, it was the stuff ladies dream about, though Myrcella was probably too shy to admit it. Her two incest spawned siblings turned out to be a lot more decent than her family members and her to be sure.
Myrcella had all of their mother's beauty but none of the venom, the girl constantly trying to befriend the Stark children. Tommen is the same but had a cat fetish, though he could stand to lose a few pounds. He seemed motivated now that there was a boy his own age to run and play with. The two were seated right at the foot of the King's seat but a bit to their his left.
She was seated to Robert's left and her mother's right. This would normally be Joffrey's chair but since he was otherwise 'occupied', she claimed it. Her mother could talk about propriety all she wanted but might makes right.
"What's a matter girl? You going dewy eyed for the mysterious black knight?! Hah!" Robert Baratheon laughed as he state on the dais drinking from his wine cup. A moment later he spat it out. "What in the Seven hells, why is there water in here?!"
Mordred turned coolly to her 'father' and glared at him. "I don't want your drunk ass weighing me down. If we are in the melee, we are in it to WIN."
Robert sputtered in rage but Mordred turned around to watch the first joust. The fact that the black knight spoke with such authority was surprising. She turned her eyes toward her younger future sister in law and saw the girl look excited to have a champion at last. She hoped the Black Knight wouldn't disappoint the girl and actually make a decent showing.
"I want wine damn it, someone bring me a-"
"Grab his fat ass some chicken!" Mordred half yelled after having enough of her 'father's outrage. "You will not be drinking, I want you to be able to swing that hammer and not at me or the kingsguard later!"
"That's it! I had it with you, you little-!"
"My love," Her mother spoke up interjected. No doubt the woman wanted to avoid any royal embarrassment that would reflect on her. "Perhaps she has a point, You would not want to accidentally bash her head in with your warhammer do you?"
"I would never!" an outraged Robert shouted. He was still skilled and, while not as versatile with his warhammer as before, he was still efficient enough thanks to Mordred keeping him on his toes.
"If he strikes me with the hammer I am poking his lard ass with my blade!" Mordred told her mother while glaring at her 'father.'.
"Oh Seven, I beseech of you please send me a man that would take this brat away from my kingdom and release me from this burden!" Robert dramatically declared to the sky.
Mordred raised her eyebrow before she smirked. "The gods don't hear sinner's prayers. Oh and I took the liberty of changing the crown for this tourney."
Robert never verbally accepted his daughter's decree but, he was no longer making an issue of it. That, to her, was a victory.
"What did you do girl?" Robert asked, his fat face full of suspicion.
"Well, I mean since this is a tourney for your hand, I figured a crown made out of winter roses would be more fitting," Mordred grinned as a new bearer took the old red and yellow crown away and instead place a beautiful made crown of white and blue.
The king was brought up short as he looked at the crown of roses. His face paled a bit and for a moment his eyes seem distance and afar. Even her mother appeared displeased with the crown glaring at it venomously.
Finally Robert found his voice though it came in a whisper. "It- it's beautifully made...Mordred."
Mordred for once held her tongue and pity her mother all the same. The ghost of Lyanna Stark still haunt his father but her mother appeared to be too into her Uncle Jaime to have ever been a proper wife, a queen yes, but a wife? No.
Thankfully with her sword skill, she would never be any man's wife, and with her brother Joffrey on the throne eventually, she could live out the rest of the days above the games. Besides, there is not a single man in all of Westeros worthy of her.
They were all taken out of their contemplation when the trumpet announce the first joust, which was Uncle Jaime. Who rode against a Knight of the Vale. He defeated the Vale Knight within three lances. The next one was a Dorne Knight against Loras. Loras won, his skill at jousting was too much for the dorne man. Gregor Clegane was next and unhorsed the knight from Winterfell brutally. She saw Eddard and the girls rise up to their feet in alarm.
Finally it was Joffrey's turn and the mysterious Black Knight. She pursed her lips as the two charged at one another but the black knight proved to be far superior as with a single thrust and deflection, he unseated Joffrey from his horse.
The Stark girl, Arya, crowed out loud, holding onto her father's arm and pointing at her champion who raised the girl's favor for all to see before trotting away. Her mother naturally hated the black knight instantly. After all, no one hurts Joffrey.
Jumping down from the dais as Joffrey was being helped up by the gold cloaks, she went to him. "Joffrey, I saw you out there."
"Really sister?" Joffrey asked, his voiced sounded happy and excited.
"Yes, You're shit. Absolutely shit," Mordred replied in a flat tone and glared at the boy through his upended visor. The boy looked crestfallen. "But, we can work on that. Are you going to give up like a little girl?"
"Whatever you wish sister!" Joffrey beamed at the backhand compliment.
Mordred walk back up to the dais and saw Robert looking at her with approval. Of course the woman wanted her and her brother to get along. Her mother however frowned, she never wanted Joffrey to be hurt and training with her often left him bruised and battered. At least he wasn't a scrawny little prince like before.
The next bout had the Hound, Joffrey's personal bodyguard, unhorsed her Uncle Jaime after breaking nine lances against each other. Loras Tyrell moved passed the knight from the Westerland and before they knew it, it was Gregor and the Black Knight. Which was stupid because both of them were wearing black armor.
There was some odd tension in the air she couldn't quiet place but after the seventh lance broken between the two, she noticed a pattern. The Black Knight weren't trying to unhorse Gregor, he was trying to anger the man. Each lance struck the man in a particular vulnerable area. Judging by the speed of the black knight, Gregor must have been feeling numb, while the black knight hardly looked winded.
It was with the ninth lance, as everyone held their breath when Gregor was unhorsed by the black knight. The cheering from the crowd was wild but not more exuberant than that of the Stark girl who was smugly looking at all the other ladies in attendance.
Mordred noticed the black knight appeared to be whispering something to Gregor that infuriated the man before the giant stalked off the field.
The Black Knight rode three more time against House Tully, and two other obscure Houses. All three victories coming by a single broken lance and all of them were unhorsed. Her normally boisterous father was looking on with great interest. Finally the end came to Loras and the Black Knight while the Hound would ride against a Frey.
When the Knight of Flowers decided to change steed, Mordred knew something was fishy. The knight paraded cockily, not unlike how Lancelot use to, and gave all the ladies flowers. To her amusement, the Stark girl turned her head away from the handsome knight and rejected his gift. It was then she noticed how the other horses nearby reacted to the Knight of Flower horse. It was a mare he was riding. A mare in heat. A dirty trick to be sure but not illegal.
'Lancelot would have never pulled that stunt.'
Much to her own surprise, the stallion the black knight was riding looked only distracted for a second before he stroke its mane and whispered something to it. Whatever it was, it was too soft for everyone to hear as Loras and the Black Knight charged at one another. The two broke the first lance evenly. The second one caught Loras in a bad position but he still persevered and hung on. It was the fifth exchanged between the two that unhorsed the fame Knight of Flower. Her 'uncle' Renly was on his feet immediately, concerned for his 'friend'. She scoffed at that. As if the fact that her uncle preferred men was a secret.
'Maybe had Lancelot taken after Loras in that respect there would have been no ruination of Father's kingdom.'
Of course, her little insurrection might have died in its infancy too. Ah, what ifs, her favorite game since her rebirth. Shaking her thoughts, her attention returned to the match at hand.
Loras stood up and looked surprised as he wobbled on his feet before being caught by the gold cloaks guards and escorted back to the contestant area.
Finally it came down to Sandor Clegane and the Black Knight. The entire field was silent and Mordred found herself pretty invested in the outcome. To her left, the Stark girl appeared to be clutching her hand tightly, as if in prayer. It was then the trumpet sounded that Mordred whipped her head back to the field and saw the two charging at one another.
The thunderous sound of the cracking wooden lance silenced everyone. The next seven broken lances showed that the long battle the black knight had had through the day was wearing on him as his bracket had been harder than Sandor Clegane.
By the time they both broke the tenth lance, the black knight appeared to falter while the hound wasn't doing much better. Both where leading heavy in their saddle, but neither wished to fall. The eleventh lance was the one that was going to determine the outcome, Mordred knew it. They only had one last spurt of strength before it was to be all over for them.
The crowd was holding their breath and Mordred surprised herself by doing the same. Looking at Robert and her mother, they too seemed riveted to the match, impatient for the outcome. Only Robert, a warrior, once, could feel the finality of what was about to happen.
For a moment, Mordred was taken back inexplicably when Lancelot rode against her in their tourney in Camelot. Before she shook her head as the two men spurred their steed onward, all signs of defense abandoned, they would hammer each full on.
The sound of the lances hitting home directly on both men made the crowd gasp, but to everyone's surprise, both men were still on their horses. It was Sandor however, who's steed who took a few more steps before he slid from the saddle and onto the ground.
Mordred looked to the black knight who appeared to sag onto the back of his steed before he rose up and threw the lady favored arm into the air. The applause from the crowd was deafening as they showed their approval to the victor. Even Robert stood on his seat and clapped so hard, she thought he was going to suffer a heart attack and die.
No one's enthusiasm was more apparent than the little girl who had given the said knight her favor. The Stark girl was so rowdy that the Hand had resigned himself even as their Septa tried to force the girl to stop standing in her seat.
"Magnificent!" Robert shouted as he looked at the black knight doing his victory lap, his arm still raised high. "Absolutely magnificent!"
Mordred too clapped politely while her mother cast an admiring gaze at the knight.
Eventually the black knight made his way to the king dais and bowed as the king stood up and motioned for everyone to be silent.
"Alright you mysterious whore son," Robert boomed much to everyone laughter. "You won the right to the rose crown alright, but I'll not give it to some fuck that can't look me in the eye."
The crowd roared some more as everyone was eager for a look at the mysterious knight face. Mordred herself was curious.
"As you wish, your grace," the Black Knight said and placed both hands on his helmet and took it off.
There was instant gasp and Mordred once more found herself to be one of them. The man was handsome, extremely so. He had fair Lannister like hair and purple eyes found in those of Old Valyria. There were many nobles of the court with that had the same look but the combination on this man face was almost achingly beautiful to behold. Mordred for the first time in her life found her face a bit flushed. There was something familiar about this man's presence and even her mother sensed it as she sat up straighter. Robert himself appeared to try and draw upon his kingly presence as to not appear lesser before the man before him.
"Well, you're a pretty son of a bitch aren't you?" Robert finally said as he looked at the man with the purple eyes. Mordred could tell that Robert was thinking of Rhaegar again, just like every other time he had met someone with purple eyes.
"You are too kind," the mysterious Black Knight spoke firmly. It wasn't the flowery speech like Loras'. Nor was it self-depreciation like Uncle Jaime. It was firm, resolute and Robert heard it.
"Well, do you have a name?" Robert asked impatiently but his demeanor was still kingly.
"Arthur Sand your grace."
Mordred felt her eyes widen a bit but shook her head. Arthur was a common enough name in Dorne judging by his surname. Still, whenever someone introduced themselves as Arthur to her, she instantly clutched her breath before realizing that her former father was not here.
"A bastard eh?" Robert smirked before looking at the other knights around him. "Well you certainly rode better than these true born lot."
Arthur simply inclined his head.
"Well, Arthur Sand," Robert said as he took the crown of white and blue roses and held it out to the knight before him. "You earned this, now go crown your Queen of Love and Beauty you pretty son of a bitch."
Mordred nearly missed it but she saw the brief irked look across the man face at being called pretty. He wasn't pretty, not like Loras, but he was handsome. For a moment, she wondered what would she do if he crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty.
"My thanks your grace, but there is only one Lady here that deserve this crown," Arthur declared loudly for all to hear. His voice commanded attention. Suddenly he moved his steed to the right of the king and faced the Stark girl who had bestowed upon him, her favor.
The girl, who was so wild and rambunctious before was now suddenly very shy and red in the face. In fact she looked like she wanted to hide between her father and her sister. Her father looked a bit pale, his eyes distant but her sister was grinning from ear to ear.
"For you, Lady Arya of House Stark," Arthur smiled as he placed the beautifully crown of winter roses on the girls head. "The Queen of Love and Beauty."
There were a standing ovation and a lot of congratulatory well wishes from the lords and ladies in the dais as the black knight, Arthur, bowed low to his Queen of Love and Beauty and left the field.
+++ Gregor+++
The mountain killed his squire as soon as he got back and his men knew immediately he was angry.
'If you think you can do better, meet me in the Melee.'
The fucking Black Knight pretty boy had taunted him. HIM! Oh they'll meet in the melee alright, and then, he'll die.
No one stands up to the mountain, NO ONE.
TBC!
UP Next: Archery , maybe melee.
AN: Muwhahahahaha! For those that know both Fate and Game of Thrones, how many of ya'll saw THAT coming?:P
Like I say, Until the WHEEELS fall off! I believe some nuts and bolts starting to fly around.
I just want to know, for those that actually get the full impact and the irony of role reversal in every sense throughout this chapter, just how many crack a smile and grinned? Thank you once more to Icura and UN for your sport to helping me make this the most amusing fic, but with plot, as possible.
I hope I got the jousting part right, I study it and read up on it but we'll see how it turns out. /shrug
Thank you for all the encouraging reviews I received especially to those that saw things or guess how things might be going! You guys rock!
As always C+C welcome, reviews appreciated.
Until the wheels fall off baby! Until the WHEELS fall off!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone