[b]The Red Keep[/b]

The Gold Cloak serjeant gawped at the body and turned to shout when a dark-clothed figure stepped into view and his cries died. The figure was slender and lithe but wore a man's tunic, with a dagger and Braavoshi rapier on their belt. Short straight brown hair framed cold grey eyes and a long, solemn face. The man knew who she was instantly and moved to bow. The woman waved a hand and minutely shook her head, then gestured to the body, "Have your men take him to the Grand Maester's Laboratory. Best to do an autopsy. And have the Maester's assistant retrieve a vial of this material for study, though he is unlike to find anything. It seems like sludge that cutthroat thought to be a weapon, but best to make sure." The Serjeant saluted and motioned to the cadre of Gold Cloaks who come forward to move the body. The Mistress of Whisperers continued to speak, ignoring Mable for the duration, "It was lucky the children were away but it is clear that these accommodations were inadequate as both myself and Lord Commander Payne indicated; but alas my dear nephew has a mind of his own. See Viserys' family relocated. And double the guard. There will be no further intrusions. Have our men increase patrols and search every inch of the keep from top to bottom. If one rat could sneak in with our guests, who knows how many more skitter in the shadows?" 

Finally the Mistress turned to Mable, "And have Lady Frey escorted from these premises. Her place is with our other visitors in the public wing, not here. I am not ungrateful for your assistance my lady, but it is best you leave security to us. But my brother will know of your actions. It is lucky you proved loyal or else I might have taken you as another rogue. However my subordinates might not be as permitting to a Frey wandering the castle. Perhaps you can join your kin in the tourney," the Mistress regarded Mable with her grey eyes for several more moments before turning, "I must take my leave. Please, enjoy the festivities." She turned and stepped out of view as the men made ready to follow her orders. The serjeant seemed to relax as the Mistress left but glared at Mable, "You heard the Mistress, [i]Frey.[/i] You're lucky her ladyship is right merciful or else I might gut you right here on the spot. Wat! Gerry! See the Frey out of this wing, we've enough rodents here without weasels coming in." The Serjeant turned around and muttered under his breath, likely airing all manner of obscenities to himself. 

The two Gold Cloaks who escorted her out of the wing gave her hard stares. They had the look of Northmen about them, and their hands were tight on the pommels of their blades. They escorted her out of the private area of the Red Keep towards the vicinity of the courtyard, where all manner of guests were congregating. One of the guards said, "Best leave the Keep entirely Frey, wouldn't want any accidents happening to your ladyship." They slammed the door in her face and that was that. Normally, lowly men-at-arms would not dare to speak in such a way to one nobly born, but Mable was a Frey and so bore an ill name in the Seven Kingdoms. While the King himself spared the family from extinction, the Frey name was synonymous with duplicity, skulduggery, and treason. Mable was not technically barred from the Keep, but it was clear her presence would attract much attention and almost all of it negative. Either she would have to act more covertly and risk greater ire, or she would have to stick to the public areas. 

[hr] 

[b]The Fairgrounds[/b] 

In the bright sun of the afternoon, even the Black Brothers shined. Decades ago the sworn brotherhood had been on a step decline, lacking in men and material. But those days were past. The coming of the Long Night had vindicated the Night's Watch's mission and no longer were they the laughingstock of the realm. Instead their numbers had swelled, exponentially every year with support from the Great Houses and now they were once again a force to be reckoned with. No longer were they simply a haven for the desperate, now men sought their honor on the Wall, defending the Seven Kingdoms from stray Others, roving Wights, and all manner of dark and monstrous creatures that had arisen in the years following the Long Night. As such, the Black Brothers were attending the royal wedding, eager to find recruits for their mission. Several crows were working the crowds, shouting aloud to young boys and knights alike about the glory of the Watch, the honor that could be earned on the Wall. Years ago, they would have been spat or laughed upon. But now, in their fine black cloaks and expertly crafted black armor, they made for inspiring figures who drew several enthusiastic recruits. 

Lord Commander Greyjoy looked upon it all with satisfaction. He and the Watch had much in common. Once upon a time, they had both been wretches inches away from death, dishonored and sullied nearly beyond repair. It had taken years, but the Night's Watch had regained it's glory while even Theon's name was not as black as it once had been. He was not the emaciated creature he had been under the Boltons. Jon had taken pity upon him and had the best healers in the Seven Kingdoms tend to him. After many years, he had regained some semblance of his former self. His scars would never fully heal, and he would never be the fighter he once was, but he could once again swing a sword and string a bow and for that he was forever grateful. Theon surveyed the fairgrounds, feeling an odd pleasure on witnessing the countless vain and arrogant youths that reminded him so much of himself. It was thanks to the efforts of himself and so many others that they could live life so blissfully. 

When he surveyed the crowd he caught a sight of someone he had not thought to see. Asha wrote him often, and she had told him of his daughter. Theon knew he had put more than a few bastards in the world, but almost none were known to him. Asha had told him of Taria Snow; how she was and what she looked like. She even had her Maester send a charcoal drawing of her. The girl was every inch a true Ironborn, with salt flowing in her veins, a talent for seamanship, and a thirst for travel. A true Greyjoy, even if she did not have the name. Theon had never lain eyes upon her before. And was momentarily frozen by indecision. After a moment however, he carefully walked towards her, unsure of what he would say. 

He stood near her and clearing his throat said, "Fine afternoon isn't it?" Nearly stuttering now, Theon decided to plow forward, "If I am not mistaken you are the famous Taria Snow, Lady Asha told me much about. Doubtless, you know who I am." Theon stared at her for a moment, still half-unbelieving that she was here in front of him, "I have thought about this day for years, ever since your Aunt told me about you. There are no words that can describe how I feel. All I can say is I cannot say how sorry I am, I never sought you out. That I was never a father to you. My life has simply not allowed me the privilege. I have no illusions about being a father now. But please... would you join an old man for a drink and a meal? Just the two of us. We have much to speak of." 

[hr] 

[b]Royal Pavilion[/b]

Meanwhile as father and daughter reunited, steel met with steel. It had been almost a year since Jon had had a proper sword fight and if truth be told he was almost relieved to have been attacked. All the political strife, diplomatic necessities, matters of state, and economic policy left him as he focused on the simple world of combat. Lightbringer carved through the pirates like a cake while the White Swords stained their cloaks red with the blood of hapless mercenaries. Several warriors jumped into the fight and the Stepstoners were soon outnumbered and surrounded. Visenya quietly strode forward, loosing single arrows into throats, eye sockets, and hearts while Viserys slashed and thrust; gutting and piercing the pirates as if they were standing still. With the arrival of several other fighting men and women, the fight was soon over with minimal casualties for the crown loyalists. Jon was almost disappointed with how quickly the fight ended. And surprised by how many men suddenly bowed before him. Jon was still not fully accustomed to such pageantry but recognized its necessity. With a gesture, Lightbringer's flames were extinguished and he sheathed the blade and gestured to his Kingsguard to do the same. 

Jon first addressed the men-at-arms who were rushing to the scene, "Men, help take these brave warriors to the medical pavilion. Ensure they receive the best of care and comfort, as well as my thanks." Several men rushed to aid the wounded, either carrying them on stretchers or lending a helping shoulder to bring them to the medical tent, where their wounds would be looked at by Maesters, Septons, and Nurses. Then Jon turned to Serjeant Addam, "Serjeant, have the Night Riders send out riding patrols in the Kingswood and perimeter of the city. Ensure no further surprises. Double the patrols in the fair grounds and have these prisoners taken to the Red Keep. I am sure my sister will have questions for them. And have the remains of these pirates taken as well. There will be no heads on spikes during my son's wedding. Burn them all." The Serjeant moved to comply, taking the prisoners from Ser Harwin's custody while many other men-at-arms began bustling about to strengthen the guard and move the bodies from the pavilion. Several took the time to loot the bodies. 

Viserys approached Jon, "Father, are you alright?" 

"Not a scratch. Don't worry about me. We'll have this situation sorted soon. Please, return to your merriment." Viserys looked skeptically at the beheaded Tyroshi, "Ah yes, any can see this is simply a small matter of no import. Very well father. Best for me to get ready for the joust." Viserys swaggered off without a glance at any of the kneeling men. 

Jon addressed Steffon next, "No need to stand on such ceremony. Steffon. You grew up here. I thank you for your assistance and understand your tardiness entirely. I received word of your aid to Riverrun. Malkor's raiders would have been no true threat but you demonstrated your loyalty twice over. Mark my words, but your loyalty will bear fruit for yourself and your house. Furthermore please, enjoy the festivities. Seats of honor have been reserved for your house on the lists, and I expect to see you tonight at the feast." Jon smiled at the young lord and turned to the other warriors. 

"I know not who you young warriors may be, but your valor and skill in combat is clear. You all have my heartfelt thanks and I will see to it that you are rewarded for your aid. Many of you bear sigils and devices familiar to me, and I would ask the names of such valiant fighters." Jon waited for each of the gathered knights, excluding those taken to the hospital tent, to speak their names and he nodded in return, "Hmm, many of your names are known to me. I do not recognize your device Ser Goldfyre. But it is clear Valyrian blood flows in your veins. For your service, you shall all be given a place of honor at the lists to witness the spectacle. And tonight at the Red Keep, you shall be my guests at my son's wedding feast, I shall hear no refusal. There we may converse further and I shall bequeath the rewards due to you. But for now, alas, I must depart for the Grand Melee calls to me. We shall speak more in the evening sers. Visenya, may you do me the service of escorting these knights to whatever festivities they wish to partake in?" 

Black Visenya bowed to Jon, "It would be my honor cousin." 

"My thanks. And ah, young William!" Jon called out to William Bolton, who drunkenly stumbled onto the scene of carnage as guards continued to ferry out the bodies. "Alas, you missed the excitement, but no doubt you sought the joust. These fine young men and women will mayhaps be joining you shortly. I myself must depart sers to prepare for the Grand Melee. But I shall see you later today." He smiled and nodded to Visenya who nodded in return. 

With that the King of Westeros turned on his heels, followed by his Kingsguard, into his tent to prepare for the Grand Melee. 

Black Visenya, with her bright indigo eyes and night-black hair, appraised the lord and ladies, casting her gaze over William with something of a smirk, enigmatically eyed Ser Towers, and held stares with Aerion for a few moments before speaking, "As the king decreed, you shall all have places of honor in these merriments. If you wish you may compete, but you may also observe in comfort with fine food and drink. It would be my honor to guide you to where you wish to go. The jousting is still ongoing, and the next round of archery will begin soon. Perhaps you wish to see the king compete in the melee." 

A shadow of a grin crossed Visenya's face then, "Or we could forgo the formal events entirely. The commons have their own array of amusements, and there is many a young noble or knight who are engaged in all manner of folly. Finger dances, duels, dagger throwing, wrestling, gambling, drinking, a woman or two, all can be found here. Although I am not certain the young lord Bolton can stomach more drinks." 

[hr] 

Near Rhaegar's tent, several young pages hurriedly charged forward, excitedly yelling and bantering. They all stopped short when they saw Rhaegar and Jenn. One of them was a white-haired Velaryon lad, one of Daenyra's sons and Rhaegar's cousin Corlys. Among them was Rhaenys, the oldest of the group of the clear ring-leader. Corlys sheepishly stared at Rhaegar, before bowing low, "Ah hello Rhaegar. We ah, did not expect you to be here so soon. The melee is still a ways off and..." Corlys, embarrassed trailed off and shifted his legs. He had just turned nine, but Rhaenys had him wrapped around her little finger. Rhaenys interrupted him, "We were just having a bit of fun Rhaegar, Corlys' egg is going to hatch soon and we wanted to show his friends what his dragon might someday look like." Nearby Lyrax, with her dark sapphire scales, finished her meal and belched a small spout of blue flame. 

One of the other pages, a small Stark tot said, "Rhaenys was going to let us tou-" Rhaenys glared at him and he fell silent. Rhaenys smiled at Rhaegar, "So you see, nothing wrong here. I got them back in time to help you ready for the melee. I heard father had to execute some Stepstoners beforehand so the melee was delayed a bit. You'll have plenty of time to don your armor and weapons, no harm done, right? Why don't we get you in your armor and go to the grounds. Oh hello Jenn!" Rhaenys smiled prettily and waved at the Frey woman.