章節 11: Chapter 11: The Tourney
Roland
Unlike most people, Roland wasn't particularly excited about the upcoming tourney. 'It seems that we hold a tourney for even the mildest occasion.' He thought to himself as he prepared for the event.
To be perfectly honest, he never cared much for tourneys in general. Because of the size of this one, the tourney would last for at least two days. Today would be the jousts, tomorrow would have the jousting finals, the melee and the archery competition.
The part he liked the least was the jousts. 'All these knights in fancy armor playing with flimsy wooden sticks. If they are going to face each other. They should do it with a real weapon, not an oversized toothpick.' He shook his head, 'wood is a poor substitute for cold hard steel. Oh sure they get knocked down but there was rarely any danger.'
The only part he found entertaining was the melee. That was when there was a 100% chance of injury. It almost felt like an actual battle, no riding in a straight line, no jousting lances. In a melee it was chaos, as a real fight would be.
Roland checked himself in a mirror, he had donned his usual black and gold attire as befitting a Baratheon. He never did care much for red, it always seemed to clash with his eyes. "I am a Baratheon first then a Lannister." Besides red would make him look like a Targaryen."
As he strapped his sword to his waist, his mind drifted to his uncle Stannis. Roland was disappointed when he learned that Uncle Stannis had sailed off to Dragonstone shortly after they had left for Winterfell. In truth, he was looking forward to seeing Stannis and Eddard work side by side. They could have done very well together. Those two are more alike than they realize. Furthermore, Ned needs someone trustworthy as company, he was going to need it in the midst of so many vipers. Whatever the reason Stannis left, Roland hoped it was for something important.
Finally he was ready for the tourney. As he stepped out the door, Shadow quickly got up to follow. He headed for the stables to retrieve Bane and together. Roland and his closest companions made their way to the tourney grounds.
The Tourney of the Hand was by far the grandest in Roland's living memory. The city was bristling with activity. More knights and onlookers showed up to this one than any other he had been to combined.
Roland made his way up the stands and took his seat by his father's right-hand side. It's a position he has held since he was 6 years old. Roland recognized the competitors that rode past and bowed before King Robert rode past. Jory Cassel, Balon Swann, Beric Dondarrion, Barristan Selmy, Loras Tyrell, Yohn Royce and Jason Mallister. His uncles Renly Baratheon and Jaime Lannister also entered. As did the Red Priest Thoros of Myr, the six other members of the Kingsgaurd and Sandor Clegane.
Finally, there was him, riding a huge stallion, standing nearly eight feet tall, was Sandor's older brother. The dreaded Mountain. Of all the men in all of Westeros. There was no one Roland despised or detested more than Gregor Clegane. A monster among men. He was so vile, that Roland felt sure that even hell itself would spit him out.
Pulling out of his thoughts, Roland turned his attention to where the Starks were seated. Father had ensured that Ned and his family received the best seats, in the lower part of the stands. Soon, his eyes turned to Sansa. Roland was relieved that she was in high spirits today. The look on her face made it perfectly clear how excited she was about the upcoming events.
As if detecting his gaze, Sansa turned to look at him. She gave him a dazzling smile, Roland returned his own smile in return.
King Robert gave the signal and the competition began. The jousts lasted all day. Lothor Brune defeated Jory Cassel, Jaime Lannister defeated Barristan Selmy, Sandor Clegane defeated Renly Baratheon and so on and so forth.
Nothing of particular note happened until The Mountain faced Ser Hugh of the Vale. Roland had seen him before, the newly made knight had been Jon Arryn's squire. From what Roland knew of him, Hugh was a rude and pompous prat who was still too green to be worthy of knighthood. The armor he was wearing was brand new, yet Roland couldn't help but think. 'What kind of idiot made that helmet.' The design was more fitting for a foot soldier. The visor was next to useless as it protected basically nothing. To go up against Gregor Clegane with that would be suicide.
His fears rang true when on the second pass, The Mountain drove his lance right into that vulnerable spot, the neck. Ser Hugh practically flew from his horse and fell to the ground. It took the poor man a few moments to die, all the while coughing up blood.
Roland glared at the Mountain with fiery eyes. "Wretched demon," he whispered. "You did that on purpose." For some reason, Roland was sure that Gregor meant to kill the young knight. It greatly disturbed him that no matter what horrifying his crimes were, Gregor has never once suffered even a little for his crimes.
Beside him, Shadow was growling. Roland instinctively began stroking Shadow's head with his right hand. While his left gripped the handle of his sword as he fought to control his burning temper. Almost immediately, Shadow's growling ceased and he looked up at his master. Roland returned the stare knowingly. He turned toward Gregor and made a solemn pledge
'Just you wait for Gregor Clegane, it may not be today, it may not be tomorrow. It may not even be with an army behind me. But rest assured, I will see to it that you pay for everything you have done. One day, you will DIE, and there will be nothing anyone can do about it. Not even Tywin Lannister and all his gold will be able to stop me.'
As the light of the sun bagan to fade, the tourney ended for the day. Now the time had come for the grand feast to begin. Ned, as the Hand of the King had taken Roland place by the Robert's right side. Roland was seated between Lord Stark and Uncle Renly.
Turning his head, Roland saw that Sansa was seated next to Joffrey. His eyes burned in his head when he saw his brother so near her. Roland saw from the look in her eyes that she deeply wanted to be sitting elsewhere.
Sansa looked in his direction with sad eyes. In order to provide Sansa with some reassurance, Roland gave her an encouraging smile. It seemed to work, for Sansa breathed a sigh that calmed the tension she was obviously feeling.
Thankfully Joffrey seemed to pay very little attention to her. Instead he was engrossed in a conversation with mother.
Roland was about as excited about the feast as he was about the tourney. There was food, too much food. His father has hosted so many feasts, that it was a miracle that he didn't turn fat himself. He ate only what he wished to, nothing more. Every so often he would take a piece of meat and toss it to Shadow who chewed it down greedily.
It was a pity that Tyrion wasn't here to liven things up. Tyrion had always been his favorite uncle. Usually at feasts Roland could always turn to him for company. Now he had no one to talk to so he felt that it was going to be a long evening.
After a while, Roland couldn't help but notice that Joffrey had failed to asked Sansa to dance. Seeing the longing in her eyes, Roland decided to do something about that. Getting up from his chair, Roland made his way to the other end of the royal table.
"Lady Sansa," he said holding out his hand. "Would you care to dance?"
Sansa looked at him and nodded. Her cheeks blushed and a smile spread across her face. Roland turned to Joffrey. Though he didn't want to ask, it would of been rude to not ask his brother first. "Brother, do you mind if I dance with Sansa."
Surprisingly, Joffrey waved his hand dismissively. "Not at all brother, enjoy yourself." This was very unlike Joffrey, Roland had expected him to refuse, but then again Joffrey never was one to fully commit to anything.
So Roland took Sansa's grateful hand and led her to the dance floor. Sansa was perfect in every ladylike manner, and dancing is no exception. Graceful and light footed, it was almost like her feet barely touched the ground. The air itself seemed to be the one to move her body.
As he held her close to him, their eyes locked. Roland felt like he was looking into the eyes of the maiden herself. The candles reflecting off her hair made it seem like it was ablaze. Her bright blue eyes put the most beautiful sapphires to shame.
When the song ended, Roland led Sansa to where he sat. Renly had left to who knows where, so his seat was now vacant. They took their seats Roland asked her. "Would you like a drink Sansa."
Sansa nodded, "yes please Roland."
Just then, a great roar went up, shocking Roland and Sansa. Roland turned to the source and saw his father on his feet yelling at mother. "You don't tell ME what to do woman. I am the king, do you understand. I rule, and if I say I will fight tomorrow I WILL FIGHT."
At the sight of the Robert's ranting, Roland quickly made his way to his father's side. He gently placed his hand on the king's shoulder. "Father," He said.
Robert whirled around with an angry look in his eyes, intending to face whoever dared touch him. In the process, his hand waved wildly, nearly striking Roland. But Roland quick reflexes allowed him to avoid it by mere inches. Upon seeing that it was Roland, Robert's face quickly fell. He slumped back into his chair. His mouth opened, trying to form words, to bring some kind of comfort or reassurance to his son. Roland merely nodded in understanding. "I know," he said.
He then bent down and whispered. "Perhaps it would be best if you retired for the night." His father nodded in agreement. Getting up from his chair, Robert started to slowly make his way to the Red Keep escorted by Ser Barristan and Ser Aerys. His wife picked up her skirts and followed farther behind.
'I wonder what set him off,' Roland wondered. 'I will have to ask him on the morrow.'
Roland made his way back to where Sansa was sitting. "Forgive me Lady Sansa, but I'm afraid I must retire for the night." He was exhausted by the days events, but he was reluctant to leave Sansa.
Sansa nodded in understanding. "Of course," she said. Tomorrow will be a long day and surely you will need your rest."
Roland smiled, "thank you for understanding. However, at the very least allow me to escort you to your chambers.
Sansa blushed at the offer. Clearly she could of wanted nothing more. "It would be my honor Prince Roland."
The walk back to the Red Keep was a slow one. They spent the majority of it in silence. Content with just being in each other's company.
After a few moments of silence, Sansa spoke up. "I realize that I never got the chance to thank you."
Roland set his cup down and raised an eyebrow curiously, "for what exactly?" He asked.
"For what you did at Lord Darry's castle, for trying to defend Lady before... before she... The mention of Lady almost brought Sansa to tears.
Instinctively, Roland took both of her hands in his own. "I was only doing what I felt was right, Your companion didn't deserve to die. Somebody had to speak for her."
That brought a smile back to her face. But soon it was downcast again. "It's my fault, if I had just told the truth like you suggested, Lady would still be here. I was just so scared of what the queen and the prince would do .. I just..."
Roland used his left hand to lift her head to his level. "Look at me Sansa, you are not to blame. None of it would have occurred if not for my brother. Years of being spoiled have made him feel entitled to everything. As for my mother, she has a habit of intimidating people. Listen you are a Stark, the Starks sigil is a wolf. That means you are a wolf. It is time you showed my mother and brother the true strength of the wolf. There is a fire in you, Sansa, you just need to unleash it."
Sansa's smile finally returned. "Thank you Roland."
They chatted about other things, their lives in Winterfell and King's Landing, their families, and even pranks the sibling would pull on each other. Roland felt like he could talk to her forever. The ease of it was calming. Soon he noticed that his hand was entangled in Sansa's own. He looked at her and found that she was looking at him with complete adoration. Roland returned the smile, he couldn't remember a time when he was happier.
Unfortunately for Roland, the journey went by all too swiftly. Guards bowed respectfully when he passed. Soon they neared the door of Sansa's chambers.
"Goodnight Sansa," he said in a soft whisper. He bent down and kissed her hand.
"Goodnight Roland" she replied. Her voice was soft as a breeze.
As he turned to leave, Roland notices that his hand was still entangled with Sansa's. Looking at Sansa, he saw an almost pleading look in her eyes. Suddenly, Sansa stepped forward and pressed her lips to his own. Roland's eyes widened in shock. Before he knew it, he was kissing her back. All cares forgotten, all that mattered was for the moment to last as he buried his hands in her sweet hair and felt her tender lips on his. 'Let the gods see,' he thought, 'I care not.' He knew it was wrong but he cared little for that anymore.
Caught up in the moment, they had failed to notice a pair of eyes that witness the event unfold.
Well I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry to say that later chapters will be taking longer to post due to a major work schedule change that happened during this chapter. But I promise I will never relent on this story. Until next time.
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