[b]The Lists[/b]

The man made no movement, no gesture, so Malrik could only guess at what ran through the man's mind. A moment later the Knight of Skulls dipped his head, "I see I underestimated you ser. Forgive me. You are a true knight indeed. Your virtue touches me deeply." The mystery knight passed Malrik the box and stowed the bag of coin in his saddlebag. Then he reached into his belt and retrieved a golden coin, "I cannot let you leave without a sign of my own gratitude however, that would be unbecoming." The Knight of Skulls flipped the coin to Malrik, who upon catching it, would see it was not a Westerosi dragon. The coin depicted the profile of a crowned skull on one side while the other showed a sea serpent eating it's own tail, "An odd coin to be sure, but the day may come when it will be of use to you. I advise you keep it close." 

The knight bowed to Malrik, "I thank you for your aid Ser Malrik. And I wish you luck in the joust. We should be called fairly soon." The Knight of Skulls stepped away with his horse, leaving Malrik alone with the lacquer box and the strange gold coin. Later a page bearing the Targaryen sigil ran up to Malrik, and bowed before speaking, "Ser, I have come to inform you that one of the jousters has withdrawn from the competition due to injuries to his horse in prior tilts. The lots have been drawn and you are to face the Knight of Skulls. He seems a worthy opponent, he has already unhorsed Ser Humfrey the Strong, Red Yonnel, and Ser Lothor Bracken. Best of luck sir." 

Later when the Knight of Skulls and Malrik jousted, Malrik would no doubt find it one of his most difficult tilts. The Knight of Skulls was obviously an old hand at the lists, with a strong arm and sure aim. Malrik and the mystery knight would break six lances against each other until finally the Knight of Skulls was unhorsed on the seventh tilt. The Knight of Skulls would then dust himself off, lock gazes with the knight, and nod meaningfully at Malrik before turning and taking his leave. If Malrik was keen enough he might have caught a glimpse of the man's eyes, a striking green color. 

The hedge knight had distinguished himself in the lists and many cheered his name, having heard of both his chivalry on the field and his quick defense of the White Wolf. Many experienced jousters nodded and greeted him politely as he passed, and many a lady gave him a smile. Soon the same page who had approached Malrik earlier came to him, "Ser, the Queen has invited you to the stands of honor as her guest, she would be delighted to meet you." In the stands Malrik could see Queen Daenerys in the high-chair, looking over the field with her violet eyes, long silver hair flowing in the wind. It was not often a queen took notice of a hedge knight. 

[b] Food Tent [/b] 

Visenya glanced at her drunken companion with a small grin, "Impressive William. I half-expected you to stab yourself back there but you managed to hold them off. They weren't too keen on being anywhere near a Bolton with a knife." They waited for their companions to emerge from the tent as the guards sorted out the situation. A small squad of Dragon's Teeth ran up to Visenya and William with swords buckled to their belts. The one in the lead, a Plumm lad said, "My lady, are you alright?" 

"Just fine, a little scrap, nothing more. Take a few men and help the gold cloaks sort it out. No steel. This is my cousin's wedding, not a battle." The man nodded and two other Dragon's Teeth followed him into the tent as it filled with competing shouts from guards and brawlers while others continually exited and fled the premises. Visenya, still propping up William spoke, "Yes, that has definitely been enough drinks for you. And you came much too close to having your blood spilled like your wine. My place is escorting these other knights, but perhaps it would be best if my men took you to the Queen's box. You are Lady Sansa's guest at the feast. She would be terribly cross with me if her ward was hurt."

A few other guards stood by, waiting to help William to the royal stands with other honored guests. However he was a Lord and Visenya could not force him to go. 

[b]The Stables[/b]

As Ellion and Duncan walked out of the stables, a fully armored knight with a skull on his breast plate inclined his head before riding by on his own horse. Something about the man struck Ellion as queer. He had no squire, and no ornamentation. Despite being in full plate atop a warhorse, he made little sound. 

He had little time to contemplate it however when a small group of lordlings crossed paths with them. Most of them were Westermen; Marbrands, Crakehalls, Westerlings, and Swifts aplenty, most of them no older than seven and ten. There were more than a few Florents and Hightowers in their number however and at the head were three young lads. One was fifteen and the other two were fourteen, all golden haired and green eyed. Lannisters, specifically Tyrion's sons. The eldest brother Tom smiled at Ellion while several of his Reachman companions treated the Tyrells more cooly. The heir to Casterly Rock inclined his head, "You unhorsed my cousin in the melee. My congratulations ser, it is exceedingly rare for Viserys to ever be defeated. I am Tommen Lannister and these are my brothers Tywin and Tytos. And surely you are acquainted with the Florents and Hightowers." The Lannister twins with identical green-gold eyes and wavy blonde locks inclined their heads in unison. The Florent boys meanwhile begrudgingly nodded or halfheartedly bowed. The Hightowers were much more polite and respectful in their greetings but much more insincere as well. 

The War of Ten Graces had set the Florents against their liege lord and many in both families had not forgotten the Florent's support of Stannis over Joffrey or of the Tyrell's takeover of Brightwater Keep. Jon had restored the keep to the family and renewed their oaths to Willas, but there had always been tension between the two houses and recent events had only exacerbated things. For the Hightower's part, they had always been a proud house, and while bannermen to the Tyrells; often considered themselves their equals or even greater. 

Sensing the strife Tom interjected, "I was just on my way to the Royal pavilion, many of my companions had deigned to see a dragon. Perhaps you would like to join us ser?"

[b]Fairgrounds[/b]

Jahaerys visibly brightened and, more sure of himself now, took Alerie's hand more firmly and led her to the royal pavilion where several of the Targaryen dragons were resting in a wide open space. Jahaerys' mount Voshcaris, a robust she-dragon with deep maroon scales lounged next to Lyrax, Rhaenys' young and lean light blue dragon. Baella's violet Starfyre gorged itself on a freshly slaughtered calf. Voshcaris and Starfyre were large, bigger than any of the tents in the fairgrounds while Lyrax could still pick up a horse in each clawed foot. Rhaenys and several of the children gathered around Lyrax as Baella stroked Starfyre's scales. 

In his element, Jahaerys led Alerie before Voshcaris and smiled, reaching out a hand to the dragon's muzzle who sniffed affectionately before Jahaerys turned to Lady Alerie, "What do you think my lady? Have you ever seen something so beautiful? You can approach her if you wish. She has been well fed and would know not to harm anyone that accompanies me." 

Jahaerys kept petting Voshcaris, "Someday she'll have her own clutch of eggs, eggs I will give to my sons and daughters so I can teach them to fly. There's nothing like it Alerie, nothing can compare to riding dragonback. The whole world racing beneath you, the sun seeming close enough to touch. Magnificent." 

[b]The Royal Stands[/b]

Sansa nudged Sandor's elbow and smiled at him, "Your son is a fine warrior, he takes after his father. He will be fine, Sandor, there is naught you need to worry about. I fully expect him to gain some bruises and much experience, but that would be all for the better. Please, have a drink. It has been a long time since we've had a chance to simply chat, don't you agree." Sansa had a page pour Sandor a cup of wine and hand it to him as they watched the competition. 

Meanwhile Tyrion continued to converse with Willas, "Oh Tom is off gallivanting with his brothers and all my bannermen's sons; getting up to all sorts of mischief I'm sure. They'll be at the feast. They took some of the Florent and Hightower boys with them I understand. Small love between all of your houses I heard, but then again there is small love between yours and mine. Hopefully our sons don't pick up our rivalries. It is a vicious cycle isn't it? Blood begets blood and the quest for retribution never ends until both sides finally decide to stop." 

Tyrion drank more, "Oh listen to me. I fancy myself a philosopher when I have enough wine. Tell me Willas, what do you think of all these recent developments in the realm? Savages stirring in the mountains, petty conflicts among the peasants, sparrows and freemen roaming the countryside, Essos gearing for another war, pirates on our doorstep, and now demons and beasts are preying on the poor if the winesinks can be believed. Many smell war in the air. But who with? The Empire of New Valyria and the Kingdom of the Three Daughters are set to tear the continent to shreds. What do you believe our course of action should be?" 

Brandon Stark nodded to Steffon politely but coldly. He had not forgotten Walder's actions, and though he could not blame Steffon for the actions of his forebear, he could not forgive him either. The Winged Wolf replied, "Minor disputes between the former wildlings and their neighbors in the Gift. Tales of wolfmen and ghouls preying on the peasantry. Witches creeping in the wolfswood. But those are only stories of course. If anything the real strife seems to be south. My brother has done an admirable job of keeping us all at peace; but I fear we are in for difficult times.It would be best to prepare." 

Aemon chuckled and put a hand on Brandon's shoulder, "Uncle, you do know how to lighten the mood at a party. You make me seem cheerful by comparison." The Crown Prince nodded at Steffon, smiling at his old friend. He inclined his head to Jenn. Unlike most in the kingdom he had no hate for the Freys. He had known Steffon since they were both boys. And Jenn was a loyal companion to the royal family. But political reality demanded his distance and Aemon could do nothing more than simply greet them.

Julianna smiled at the Freys as well. The Lannisters had been allies to the Freys in the war, and had been tied by blood. While the Lords of Casterly Rock were in a much better position, they could not exactly look down on their Frey cousins. And besides that, Julianna had known Steffon since she was a babe.

All of their companions had only empty pleasantries for Steffon and most did not acknowledge Jenn at all besides a scornful glance or whisper. Steffon may have been a Frey but he was a Lord and deserved the courtesy. Jenn however was a bastard of a traitor house and at best was simply a table decoration to most of the lordlings. 

Aemon stood next to Steffon and said, "How do you fare Steffon? It has been a long time since last we meet, since you went to the Twins and I went to Dragonstone. How is your family?" 

Viserys took Taria's awkwardness in stride with an easy grin and a laugh. He carried himself easily, his rapier buckled to his belt, and seemed not to care about her dress or her more quaint manner. The mention of her name made him arch his brow in surprise, "You're Theon's daughter? Asha told me that our dear Lord Commander was quite comely in the day but I never really believed it. Until now. He must have been fair to produce one such as you. It is regretful you've never deigned to visit us before. Any child of the Greyjoys is welcome here. Well, save for the brigands but that goes without saying." 

Hands on his hips and smile on his lips he replied, "Thank you my lady. You may not have a lady's name but you are a lady, make no mistake. And thank you. There was not nearly this much pomp when I married Nymeria but then again he is my older brother. I should be glad to introduce you." 

Viserys nodded and pointed to the cloudy sky where a large golden dragon swiftly rolled and twisted through the air; occasionally belting golden fire from it's maw to the adulation of the crowds, "Brightheart, my mount. Not as large as Snowfyre, but infinitely more graceful as you can see. He takes after his master. Perhaps someday you'd like to see him up close?" 

[b]The Grand Melee[/b]

Petyr came face to face with a large knight, as tall as his father, with the Umber giant on his chest and a massive shield strapped to his arm with a large mace in the other hand. The Umber lunged forward, trying to bash Petyr with the oak shield and overwhelm him before hitting him in the side with the blunted mace. The man was of a size with Petyr but was a few years older and much more experienced. This was not an enemy Petyr could defeat with pure brawn. 

As Mable left the field, Edmure's son and his retinue were set upon by a large group of the Green Hand. The Knights of the Reach were renowned for their prowess and skill, and the Knights of the Green Hand were among the best fighters in the Reach. The Trident Knights were no common rabble, but most of the Tully bannermen were soon unhorsed and defeated by the Reachmen, to be dragged or helped from the field by their squires. A Fossoway with a blunted longaxe and a shield charged at Miri, aiming a blow at her stomach before turning around to bash his shield in her back and attack again with the axe while a Redwyne attacked Lord Tully. Several of the Trident men still remained however and a few of the Green Hand had been unhorsed and defeated.  

King Jon knocked the Winged Knight into the mud with his sword and the man chose to stay down. The King and Prince wheeled their horses around each other and Jon nodded at his son to the cheers of the crowd. The father and son fought as one, taking on and defeating all comers. Any that challenged the royal pair eventually fell to their combined efforts, and they had a nearly endless stream of challengers. Several Stormlanders charged Jon and Rhaegar on horseback, but Jon held off the Storm Lords while Rhaegar circled around and attacked their flanks and both swordsmen knocked out all their opponents until they came to the hammer wielding Edric Baratheon. Edric with his two handed war hammer and plate armor was a mighty foe. Every blow from his blunted hammer made Rhaegar wince in pain even from behind his shield, while Jon had to quickly dodge or parry every strike; not an easy task in his middle age. 

Edric wielded the hammer far more nimbly than he had any right to and easily pressed the attack on both dragon lords, keeping them on the defensive. Jon knew they could not defeat him this way and neither did his son. They acted in concord however, purely by instinct. Jon offered himself as a sacrificial lamb, purposefully leaving an opening which Edric enthusiastically committed to, lunging forward to strike the king until Rhaegar knocked his shield in Edric's helm and Jon struck him in both arms hard before knocking the hammer out of his hands. Then Rhaegar swung his sword in Edric's stomach and knocked him into the mud. The crowd cheered and even Edric, his helm knocked off by the blow, smiled as he walked off the field. 

Father and son were nearly unstoppable, and they thinned the competition of a few dozen warriors who each tried their luck with them and failed. The melee itself had reached the peak of it's violence, most of the organized teams breaking apart into a chaotic free-for-all between nearly a hundred of the most ferocious and skilled fighters in the kingdoms. There were scores of skirmishes and countless duels ongoing while horses stamped across the mud and men wrestled in the dirt. 

The young Ranger with two longswords came at Jon and Rhaegar, steel flashing. Duel-wielding longswords was a rare style and notoriously difficult to master. Most who tried were incompetent and more likely to hurt themselves than anyone else. But this Ranger was not among that number. His strikes were blinding in their quickness, and unerring in their preciseness. He expertly parried, blocked, and dodged while matching every blow for blow with both Jon and Rhaegar. He parried Jon to slash Rhaegar's shield before lashing out to try and catch both of them in their helms. The three fighter's blades moved too quickly for anyone to perceive and the Ranger finally managed to slip past Jon's defenses. A blade scratched against his chest plate but he kept his seat. 

Jon leaned in to the Ranger's guard and headbutted him directly in the forehead. The young man was helmeted but was momentarily disoriented and leaned back in the saddle. Rhaegar knocked him in the back of the head with his shield and Jon struck him again in the chest as he flew forward, sending him off his horse and into the mud. He was dragged off the field as the fighters began to thin faster and faster. The melee had been ongoing for almost two hours and three quarters of the opponents had been knocked out, leaving several dozen to fight to be the last one standing. 

Many knew the fight would end soon and all eagerly watched the proceedings with bated breath.