A Tale of Blood and Monsters Ch. 16

Year 281 AC

Harrenhal

Jaime Lannister should have been ecstatic and to be fair, he actually was quite happy. Today he had ascended to join the ranks of the Kingsguard, kneeling and taking his oaths before King Aerys II himself. Despite the King's physical decline and growing madness, it was still an honor, was it not? Then why was Jaime's father absent from the tourney? Why had he not come to see how far his son had come?

The young man could not deny how bitter he felt over that. Perhaps that's why his eyes wandered so during the Grand Melee that kicked the Harrenhal tournament off. He was not as focused as he should have been, that was for sure. Not until Ser Jonothor Darry nudged him was he taken out of his musings, almost jumping at his fellow Kingsguard's touch. The older knight just smiled at him before pointing out at the grand melee, which was beginning to decline as fewer and fewer fighters remained on the field.

"Look at that one Lannister. Who the fuck is he, do ya think?"

Following Darry's finger, Jaime beheld a knight in the center of the field who wielded a beautiful Valyrian sword and wore shining armor that had no adornment, no house sigil. As the fighting continued, Jaime watched as the man, whoever he was, tore through opponent after opponent with a fighting skill Jaime had seen from very few warriors indeed. But what truly drew Jaime's attention was the sword itself, as its appearance pulled slightly at his memory.

"That sword… odd one, isn't it?"

Ser Darry peered closer at it before shrugging and shaking his head.

"The sword is what catches your attention? It's his armor that concerns me. I've never seen anything like it, yet he moves so easily in its confines, like its molded to his body perfectly and flows with his every movement. And the way it shines… he's taken several blows you know, and not a single one has done more than glance off him, screeching in the process. He's taking Valyrian Steel blades with barely a scratch Jaime. I want to know who the hell he is, not the history of his sword."

Pursing his lips together, Jaime shook his head.

"That's all well and good Jon, but that sword… I think it might be Brightroar."

That got the other knight's attention.

"Wha-? Brightroar? Your family's lost Valyrian Steel sword? The one lost in Essos? Don't be ridiculous."

From the older knight's tone, Jaime knew to shut his mouth about his suspicions. Now the young warrior wished even more that his father had attended the tourney. Surely Tywin would recognize Brightroar on sight and be able to either confirm or deny Jaime's feelings. As it was, all the young man had to go on was a few barely there memories of Brightroar's description and a few paintings of King Tommen Lannister holding it.

But still, the crossguard was a distinctive gold from what little Jaime could see of it. And he could swear the pommel had a lion's head on the end. The cheering crowds had fallen silent as the mysterious knight had continued demolishing his competition. He never actually stopped moving, which is why Jaime couldn't be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The knight's swordplay was one continuous string of strikes. He did not grow tired, he did not slow down. He moved forward inexorably, a strange combination of an unstoppable force and a fluid stream, mixing brute force with agile steps that had him going through some enemies and around others.

All fell to him though, and the stadium was silent as the knight finally did come to a stop with none left to face him. The Mad King was not out today, preferring to stay inside and avoid the glaring sun. Rhaegar Targaryen sat in his place, clearly bored and annoyed that he'd not been able to take part in the melee. Jaime rather suspected the Prince would force things to go his way when it came to the jousts later. The young Lannister did not expect the Targaryen to let anything come between him and those.

Still, all that meant it was up to Rhaegar to congratulate and reward the unknown knight. The Prince stood, staring curiously down at the man, who Jaime could admit, did indeed wear strange armor. Now that the man had stopped moving so fast, Jaime could see that there was indeed a lion head on the pommel of the sword held loosely in one hand. If that confirmed his suspicions or not, Jaime wasn't sure yet. For now, he stood silently as the mysterious knight approached the stage Rhaegar sat upon at the Prince's prompting.

"Knight. You are as skilled as you are nameless. Do you have no house to represent? Will you not grace us with even your face?"

Bowing deeply in a way that really should have been impossible in armor like the knight was wearing, he spoke up without removing his helm. His voice was distorted but very deep, almost booming throughout the silent arena. The smallfolk were listening raptly right alongside the nobles arrayed around Rhaegar.

"If it pleases my Prince, I would prefer to keep my identity to myself until after I have competed in the jousts."

Here, Rhaegar's grin turned a bit wicked, a bit savage.

"Ah, unfortunately I must inform you that while the melee is open to any and all comers, if you wish to joust, you must declare yourself. You must have a House to be allowed to participate. After all, how else can be sure you are a Ser or a Lord?"

The mysterious knight froze for a moment before a deep chuckle reverberated out from his helmet. It continued as he slowly reached up and pulled the form fitting face plate off and held it at his side, opposite of his sword. There were gasps around the arena, and Jaime's eyes widened as he took in the man's appearance. Rhaegar in particular had a visceral reaction, coming up out of his seat as he took in the very… Targaryen appearance before him.

"Hello again Prince Rhaegar. So good to meet with you under better circumstances. While I do not have a Westerosi House to lay claim to, I hope that Emperors are not barred from your little tournament."

That got even more reactions from everyone as many began to realize who exactly this was. They called him many things, but Jaime knew right away, from Rhaegar's reaction if nothing else, that this was him. The Emperor of New Valyria and some said, much of Essos by this point. The man's eyes were challenging as the wind blew his long well-kept blonde hair back from his face. He had a small wicked smile on his face like he didn't have a care in the world. He looked ready and able to fight the entire Kingsguard if he had to, and as Jaime's hand fell to rest on the pommel of his sword, his eyes flitted behind the Emperor to the field of fallen knights he'd left in his wake.

Suddenly, Rhaegar laughed and sat back down in his chair, practically falling into it.

"The audacity! I suppose I should expect no less from you, cousin. Showing up here and now… father will be quite cross when he finds out. But I, I find myself exuberant at the thought of facing you on horseback. We'll have to make sure you survive until then."

The smile on the Valyrian Emperor's face grew and took on a sly note.

"Oh, not to worry about that. I am very, very hard to kill. A pleasure to see you again Rhaegar. Do give Elia my best."

Turning, the man began to walk away just like that, leaving the field. And the Prince let him go, just like that. In fact, as Jaime turned to look at his Prince incredulously, surprised that Rhaegar would let such a blatant show of disrespect pass, he found the Targaryen deep in thought, eyes staring off into nothing, lips pressed together so tightly that they were turning white. Was he… was Rhaegar scared?

It was irrelevant, Jaime had to go after the man and with the tournament over and Ser Darry still nearby, Jaime was free to leave, so he did. Of course, many others had the same idea as him, trying to follow after the Emperor of Valyria for any number of reason. All Jaime found was more and more of these people no matter how hard he looked, all as confused and lost as he felt. It was like the man had just disappeared into thin air.

Not until Jaime had practically given up on his search did he turn a corner only to almost run into the very man he was searching for. The Valyrian was standing there, clearly waiting for him as he was smiling knowingly, Lion head Valyrian Steel Sword sheathed at his waist. Jaime's eyes flicked to it before settling on its wearer's face.

"Hello Jaime Lannister. I wonder, what could you possibly want with me."

The tone was teasing and in that moment Jaime knew that the Valyrian knew that Jaime knew what he knew. So, there was no point in beating around the bush, was there?

"That is Brightroar, isn't it? You have my ancestor's blade, my house's blade at your waist. Which means… King Tommen made it to Valyria, didn't he? What became of him?"

"Fire Zombies."

The man deadpanned it so fast that Jaime could do nothing but blink stupidly before flushing red.

"Do you take me for a fool ser?"

"The proper form of address is your Imperial Majesty, but I will let it pass Jaime Lannister. No, I do not take you for a fool. Ignorant, perhaps. Understand something young man, Westeros is a small part of this world, and even you lot have magic living right under your nose that you cannot even begin to fathom. So when I say that the Doom of Valyria turned out to be a living thinking fire that consumed your ancestor and his golden fleet before turning their corpses to the task of defending its resting place, know that I am not joking in any way."

The Valyrian's words grew more and more heated the more he spoke, and he even stepped into Jaime's personal space as he did so, coming eye to eye with the young man. To his credit, Jaime did manage to avoid taking a step backwards, but it was a near thing. Instead he settled for staring at the other man warily, deciding that arguing over things he rightfully did not understand mattered little. Brightroar was what was important right now.

"My family's sword. Will you return it?"

"Asking Jaime Lannister? Well now, that is a very good start. Not for free no, of course not. You know that though, you're smart. Speak to your father about me next. Tell him of our conversation and of the sword. Tell him, he and I will have plenty to talk about soon, and if Brightroar truly is so important to House Lannister, we can work something out. Do you understand?"

Jaime nodded jerkily, and the Emperor grinned.

"Very good. For now, you have a job to get back to. Goodbye Jaime Lannister. I'm sure our paths will cross again, soon enough."

And then the man was gone, turning another corner and disappearing before Jaime could follow. The young Kingsguard was left flabbergasted, but the Valyrian was right… he had to get back to his post. Despite the caustic nature of the Essosian, Jaime found himself rather looking forward to seeing the man compete in the jousting to take place the next day.

-x-X-x-

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