Chapter 10: The Melee

Jaime

The crowd was starting to get excited as the competitors for the melee began to go through their paces. Jaime sat beside the king who was surprisingly sober and seemingly eager for the melee to begin. His sister sat there with her expression ranging from bored to furious every time she caught his eye, not that it bothered Jaime he was just glad she hadn't tried to seduce him again. Her son was an enigma to Jaime, all the Lannister looks yet none of the characteristics, he sat there with a bored look on his face and Jaime could see every ounce of his mother in him.

His brother had done an excellent job with the preparations, the archery had gone well and the king had been kept entertained, the meeting with Lord Arryn had gone the way he wanted it and Jon and Tyrion were meeting with Ser Wylis later. Jaime turned to his uncle who had left Joy behind for today, the melee no place for a little girl.

"Uncle, so who's your money on?"

"Clegane, is probably the favorite, but I fancy the crazy priest."

"Thoros?"

"Aye, didn't you say he was first through the walls at Pyke?"

"Yeah, although I think he may have been drunk." Jaime laughed.

He watched as some of the competitors began to spar with their squires and companions, just a light workout to loosen the muscles, watching it made him wish he was down there himself, if there was one thing he hated about hosting this tourney it was the fact he couldn't compete for his own prize money. He smiled as Jon and Tyrion made their way to the seats noticing the scowl Cersei gave Tyrion or was it Jon, hell the woman was scowling at both of them, what was that all about? He wondered.

"My Lord."

"Brother." the two said as they took their seats.

"So who'd you bet on this time Jon?." his uncle asked making Jaime shake his head, they'd all won good coin on Jon's tip for the archery, but there were few northerners in this fight.

"The mountain." Tyrion said getting a grimace from both Jaime and Jon.

"Jon here however seems to reckon the red priest is the one to watch out for, isn't that right Jon?." his brother added.

"Aye, the man was the first through the gates at Pyke and he wields a flaming sword, even if his skill isn't as much as other's that's going to be a big advantage."

Jaime nodded while catching his uncle's smirk, he and Jon had become very close due in a large part to Joy and the boy's own nature making him easy to befriend, winning the gold had Gerion singing his praises, god help us if Thoros wins he thought as he smiled.

Margaery

Margaery sat with her family, Garlan and Loras barely able to contain their excitement over the upcoming melee, she wasn't as keen on it as she was the joust or the squires duels. She looked around the crowd and saw the king and queen sitting there, the king looked as excited as her brothers as he began to drink while the queen wore her usual bored expression. Is that what it's like being a queen, sitting there bored out of your mind while your husband drinks and gets excited over mock battles she thought to herself.

Almost the entire nobility of Westeros were here watching on, she saw the Tully's and the Arryn's, sitting together the family bonds apparently still meaning something, the lords of the reach were spread all around her family, her uncle Paxter sitting with her grandfather's contingent and Lord Tarly as usual sitting on his own. Apart from the few northerners and the lack of the Dornish everyone important had come to revel while pretending to pay respects to the old lion.

The Lannister's sat in pride of place beside the king and she knew it irked her grandmother that they hadn't had their chance to get closer to him and his son yet, although as she looked at the boy she was reminded of the bored expression Cersei wore. The four Lannister men sat closely together although she noticed the older uncle Kevan kept more to his own company, Jaime, Gerion, and Tyrion all seemed to be much happier than the older man.

As she looked at them she noticed Jon sitting there with them, his face beaming as he smiled and joked along with the lions, she felt herself smile involuntarily, his face really came alive when he was like this she thought. The boy was an enigma to her grandmother who couldn't understand why his father let his squire for Lord Jaime or why Jaime would want him to, looking on at the four of them Margaery could see how at ease they were, perhaps that was the reason in of itself.

"A stag for your thoughts sis?" Loras said moving beside her.

"Hmm, sorry what's that?."

"Never mind, you seem to be elsewhere."

"Sorry Loras, you know I'm not a fan of melee's."

"Looking forward to the feast tonight then sis?"

"Not as much as grandmother." She said making them both laugh.

Her grandmother had been delighted when Tyrion had come to visit earlier with the invitation to sit at the high table with the king, although when Tyrion said his brother would like to meet with them after the melee it had stirred the thorns her grandmother was famous for. Still she too was looking forward to wearing one of the many new dresses she had brought along for such an occasion.

Wylis

Ser Wylis stood by as his squire readied his charger, the horse bedecked in bright green, the aquamarine figure of the merman prominent, his armor was polished to a glimmering sheen, his helm in his hand while he waited for the squire to finish his work. Some of the very best warriors of the realm would take part in this tourney and Ser Wylis was eager to prove his might, the rules were simple even though it was a fight on foot those who wished would ride their horses to the grounds, something most had chosen to do.

He mounted the horse and his squire handed him back his helm, the young man looked as eager for the event as he was and no doubt was looking forward to his own outing in the duels.

"All is well Ser."

"Aye, that it is young Artos,"

He rode the horse out towards where the rest of the knights and lords were gathering, eager for the procession to begin and the fighting to start, his squire walking alongside him with a proud look on his face, he liked the lad and was grateful his wife had recommended her cousin's boy for the position. The lad was dutiful and honest and had some talent with the sword which he was keen to develop, he was also good natured and liked to joke something Wylis appreciated.

"Ser Jorah, tis good to see you on this fine morn."

"Aye, you too Ser Wylis, I'm eager to show these southerners what northmen can do."

"That's the spirit, these boys of summer won't know what hit them when winter comes." the two men laughed as they received scowls from some of the others.

Sandor

Sandor sat on his horse and waited, he cared not what these other fools thought about the damn tourney or how they celebrated winning before even fighting, for him he had one goal, one objective and as he sat there he finally saw him ride in. The destrier he was on was twice as large as most of the horses around her, she needed to be just to carry the large weight on her back, his brother looked around and angrily glowered at the assembled men, it's me you need to worry about brother Sandor thought to himself as the men arrived to lead the procession.

The horses began to ride towards the melee arena, the crowd excitedly cheering as they saw them, Sandor kept his eyes on his target, a tourney was his best chance, accidents happen and unlike his brother he didn't have Lannister lords protecting his guilt.

"Your graces, My Lords and Ladies, men and women of the west, I welcome you all to today's event the melee, 50 men will fight for the right to be proclaimed the champion and the prize of 25,000 gold dragons." the crowd cheered excitedly at the herald's announcement.

"We are lucky to have such notable warriors as Ser Lyle Crakehall the Strongboar, Bronze Yohn Royce, Ser Brynden Tully the Blackfish, Ser Jorah Mormont knighted by the king himself." the herald said whipping up the crowd as the some of those mentioned waved.

"Ser Wylis Manderly, Lord Jason Mallister, Ser Ryman Frey, Thoros of Myr, Sandor Clegane and of course the mountain that rides Ser Gregor Clegane." the crowd booed at the last name and the man just scowled at them forcing some of them to turn away.

Finally the procession reached the middle of the arena, the men turned and bowed to the king and queen and began to dismount, their squires and attendants quickly rushing to take the horses from the field, the herald turned to the crowd and acknowledged the king and queen before continuing.

"My lords, good Ser's the fight is to a yield, those who deliberately set out injure an opponent once he's yielded will be dealt with severely, when the remaining two competitors are left dueling rules apply, if neither of the two men yield the king will declare a winner or a draw, now I wish you all the best, let the melee commence." the herald explained the rules before turning to leave.

Jon

Jon sat there at the edge of his seat his excitement was palpable, he had never seen such a grouping of men ready to fight before, the fact that some were among the very best the realm had to offer made it even more significant. He searched for the northmen he knew, Ser Jorah was wearing a dark grey flat topped great helm, his armor looked strong and sturdy and his shield was embossed with the familiar black bear his family were so proud of.

But for Jon all of that paled into insignificance when he saw the sword he wielded, he heard the gasps of the crowd when he had unsheathed it and he too had been stunned, Valyrian steel glistened like no other blade, it shined and shimmered in the light and Jon was awestruck as he looked upon it.

"Is that Valyrian steel?" Tyrion said turning to him.

"Aye, Longclaw, House Mormont's ancestral blade." Jon said noticing both Gerion and Jaime were looking at it appreciatively.

The melee itself commenced quickly once the blades were drawn and Jon's attention quickly went back to the field, he watched as Thoros's blade lit up the fire glowing green and otherworldly as people moved out of his way. On the field Bronze Yohn and the Blackfish faced off while Lyle Crakehall tried his luck against the mountain, Jon groaned at the sound of the mountain's great sword as it clashed against the Strongboar's much smaller one.

Sandor

Sandor moved quickly through the men, he'd made a Riverland's knight yield quickly and had beaten the Stormlands man who tried to catch him unawares, he saw his brother and Crakehall fight and was willing to bide his time when a man of his own size appeared in his path.

"So you're a Clegane, a little smaller than the mountain but you'll do, Rolland Storm, the Bastard of Nightsong at your service."

Sandor said nothing and just attacked, the boy was big in size but green, you don't talk during a fight, you fight, he swung his sword heavily down almost catching the boy unaware, he was quick though and he moved out of the way bringing his sword up to parry, Sandor was ready for that and quickly pulled his sword back confusing the young man, before he had time to readjust Sandor was on him.

The first blow just grazed him but the second caught him flush on the shoulder, as he tried to recover Sandor raised his sword and caught him across the helm knocking the boy to the floor, he quickly placed the sword at the boys neck forcing him to yield.

"Next time, don't bloody speak kid." he growled before moving towards his brother.

Bronze Yohn

Yohn Royce lived for this, fighting a worthy opponent a crowd cheering your every move, while there was no better feeling than fighting a man in battle this came a close second. Ser Brynden was as tough as they came and Yohn didn't know if he could win, but that made the fight even more enjoyable, win or lose he'd remember his fight against the knight of the bloody gate for a long time.

"Tiring yet, Blackfish."

"No Yohn I could do this for hours." the man laughed before his face suddenly got serious, Brynden nodded at him and signaled behind him, with another man he may worry it was a trap, a feint, but Brynden was far too honorable for such a thing, so he looked to see a damn Frey sneaking up on him.

Quickly he turned and before the man could react both him and the Blackfish were upon him, Ryman never had a chance and yielded quickly both men having easily got past his guard and hitting him with painful blows. He turned back to Ser Brynden and smiled as they began their dance once more, neither man would win this melee they knew that now, their fight would take too much out of them, so they gave it their all instead.

Loras

Loras barely knew which way to look, there were so many interesting battles happening out on the field, he and Garlan had laughed at the beating Ser Ryman had taken, as he sat there he saw his brother was equally engrossed, while he was watching Bronze Yohn and Ser Brynden his brother seemed more intent on watching Thoros as he faced Lord Mallister.

"One day I'll be out there brother." he said as Garlan smiled at him.

"Well I hope Thoros won't be, your face is way too pretty to be burned brother." Garlan japed causing him to redden in embarrassment.

Loras heard the crowd gasp and turned to see what it was that caused it, he saw the mountain had beaten the Strongboar and seemed to be eager to finish the man before his brother quickly appeared and faced him.

"It's time Brother." Sandor's voice shouted out as the two blades quickly began to move.

Loras had never seen anything like it, the ferocity of the two men was scary, the swords clashed and the sounds rang around the arena, neither man giving an inch, the mountain was clearly the stronger of the two but hound had him beat on speed. He watched as the two men put everything into their swings, the hound piercing the mountains guard suddenly sent the crowd into an uproar, but though the blow was fierce it didn't seem to affect the mountain at all.

The Blackfish.

Brynden finally got the better of their exchanges he could feel Yohn's strikes lose their potency and his own started to land easier, he caught the lord hard across the side and noticed the man wince, he feinted to the left and as Yohn moved to parry quickly he suddenly changed the arc of the sword and caught the vale lord flush across the helm. Yohn dropped to his knee his sword hanging loosely in his hand, dazed and confused he could only watch as the sword was brought to his throat.

"Do you yield old friend?"

"Aye, you win Brynden, the day is yours."

Brynden helped him up, and nodded as the man made his way towards the exit, he hadn't had a fight that stimulating since he and the bold took on Maelys during the war of the Ninepenny kings. He turned to overlook those who were left seeing his brother's banner man in a tough fight with Thoros and the two northerners battle it out, while the Clegane brother's engaged in their own internal battle, six soon to be three he thought, he smirked a little rest would do his old bones good.

The hand of the king.

Jon Arryn had watched the fight between Lord Yohn and Ser Brynden with great appreciation, to see two men of the Vale fight so well filled him with pride, sure Tully was a Riverlander but his home was now the Vale and he was family, so Jon was doubly satisfied with the result. He looked to the king who was looking on with great eagerness, they had argued the night before when Robert had wanted to fight in the melee himself, but he had talked him out of it and the king huffed and sat grumbling like the child he used to be for the rest of the night.

Jon's attention was drawn to the where the Lannister's where sitting, the meeting they had was a disaster, no longer funding the crown was going to cause a large shortfall, thankfully the repayment schedule the younger Lannister had proposed was much easier to manage than the one under Tywin. But without their funds it really left only the Tyrell's to bankroll them and Jon knew what the cost of that would be, as he looked he noticed how at ease Ned's son was among the Lannister's.

It surprised him immensely that Ned would allow his bastard squire for Jaime Lannister of all people but there was no doubting the boy seemed both welcomed and appreciated by Lord Jaime and his family. The boy seemed more a ward than a page or squire and that stirred Jon's memories of the two boys he'd fostered all those years ago, he hoped the lad turned out more like his father than his other ward, shrieks from the crowd forced his attention back to the field.

Sandor.

Sandor was tiring his swings becoming less and less effective, his brother was relentless but he too was swinging more wildly than he had been, seeing an opening Sandor used all his remaining reserves and increased his pace, he swung high to the left forcing his brother to pivot slightly, he parried the blow his brother gave in return but did so ineffectively allowing his brother to assume he was open.

As Gregor swung high Sandor ducked and caught him across the knee, hearing a growl from his brother he swung with even more might hitting the knee once again, he almost yelled out in happiness when he saw his brother fall to the ground. Giving no quarter Sandor was on him in a flash, a hard blow across the chest was followed by one to the left of his brother's helm, before Gregor could recover from that Sandor swung with all his might hitting his brother's shoulder and forcing his brother's large spade like great sword to fall to the ground.

"Yield brother, it's over."

"I said Yield." Sandor yelled pushing his blade close to his brothers throat.

Finally after what seemed like an age his brother nodded. "I Yield." Sandor almost smiled he was that happy, he turned and walked away eager to face whoever was next, after beating his brother he felt ready to face anyone. With his back turned however he didn't see Gregor rise to his feet and regain his sword, nor did he see him charge towards him, he did however hear the shrieks of the crowd and when he realized what was happening, he tried to turn knowing he'd be too late.

But the blow never came instead a longsword parried his brother's attack, Sandor was surprised to see the man who had come to his aid, the Blackfish and he had crossed paths a few times and every time he was left in no doubt of the man's disdain, but here he was more than likely saving his life and Sandor couldn't help but feel grateful, he joined in with the man's parries of his brother's sword.

"ENOUGH, GUARDS." Lord Jaime's voice boomed across the arena.

"CLEGANE STAND DOWN." Jaime shouted as the guards quickly entered and surrounded the three men still locked in a deadly fight.

Gregor felt the blow on his side from the Blackfish's attack followed quickly by one from his brother on his arm, he heard the shouting of his liege and saw the guards come quickly come towards him, five, ten now twenty, all heavily armored, he glowered at his brother and the man who'd cost him his prize, he lowered his sword and took a knee.

"Next time brother, it won't just be your face." he said as he rose and was escorted from the arena by all twenty five of the guards who'd made it inside.

It took a few moments for the mountain to be removed given each of the last 6 remaining men a chance to rest, when the guards had left Lord Jaime proclaimed the melee restarted, Ser Brynden stood facing Sandor, Ser Jorah opposite Ser Wylis and Lord Jason squared off against Thoros who'd used the opportunity to change swords, as the men turned to each other a green flame appeared on Thoros sword and the fight began in earnest.

Jon.

Jon watched as the mountain had been removed, the man had no honor Jon knew that but to see him try to attack his own brother from behind, if it hadn't been for the Blackfish then Sandor Clegane would be dead and Jon shuddered at the thought of it, how Lord Jaime could have such a man in his service confused Jon. The Jaime he knew was honorable and good something didn't make sense, he wondered if he should speak with him later, but dismissed the thought, if Jaime wanted to tell him he would.

"Well that was fun." Gerion japed making them all laugh relieving the tension.

"What was Clegane thinking." Tyrion grumbled.

"Told you not to put you money on him." Gerion quipped causing Tyrion to frown.

"Well Jon, we're still in with a chance." Gerion said nudging him on the shoulder.

Jaime.

Jaime though had his eyes fixed firmly on the crown prince, the boy had a disappointed look on his face, as if he wished the mountain hadn't been stopped, it disturbed him greatly, Aerys used to have the very same look when he planned something vile. The king was deep into his cups, he had been practically sober when this started and now barely two hours in and he was almost falling down drunk.

He noticed Jon Arryn's face was as disappointed as his was disgusted while looking at the king, serves you right falcon, this was the man you raised, the man you thought would make a good king. I won't make the same mistake as you, my king is already a better man than yours ever will be.

The Blackfish.

Brynden wasn't going to win this fight, the hound was younger and stronger and he had more energy reserves than he did, but fight he did and perhaps his greater skill could do what his weaker body could not. The two swords flashed forward meeting in the middle with a large bang, the vibrations of the hit traveling straight up his arm and almost causing him to lose his grip.

He tried to feint but the hound was ready for it, the man quickly brought his sword down in a furious swing catching him across the wrist, it was no use he lost his grip, his sword and the fight.

"I yield." he said as the sword was brought to his chest.

"Well fought Ser." the hound said respectfully.

"You too, I wish you good fortune in the fights to come." Brynden said as he nodded.

Sandor watched the man pick his sword and walk away the crowd cheering in the background, he looked to see Thoros about to beat the Mallister Lord and saw the flames of the crazy priest's sword. He wanted no part of it so instead moved to where the two northmen were locked in a furious fight,, he'd take the winner and hope Thoros jumped in, perhaps then he and the Northman could take the red priest out.

The Bear Knight

Ser Jorah was surprised at the intensity the merman fought with, he knew Ser Wylis was skilled, but he had thought the man would tire quickly. After taking out a few of the lesser fighters very easily he'd found himself across from his fellow northerner, he had thought this would be over just as quickly but they'd been fighting for almost an hour including the resting time while the mountain was removed.

He pushed forward increasing the speed and ferocity of his swings as Ser Wylis's parries became less effective, he thrust his sword towards the larger man's chest, but quickly as Ser Wylis moved to protect himself he pulled the sword halfway back to him and in a short swing caught him across the arm, the contact sending a shudder right up his own arm, he saw the wince the other man gave, it had hurt for sure.

Without giving him a chance to move away Jorah quickly swung again catching Wylis high on his shoulder, the move was unexpected and it left no time to recover, as he saw his hand quiver he quickly struck again catching him across the wrist of his sword hand the blow was strong and powerful and he watched as the sword fell.

"Do you Yield, Ser Wylis?" he asked his sword pointing at the man's heart.

"Aye, the day is your's Ser Jorah, good fortune to you my friend." Ser Wylis said with a smile as he picked his sword up and began to leave the arena.

Jorah didn't even get the chance to rest before the hound was upon him, the strike of the sword almost catching him unawares as he barely managed to block it. He turned into his stance and faced the taller man.

"So it begins." he said as the blades crashed together.

The Bold.

The red priest was relentless, his sword moved like it was an extension of his arm, his strokes seemed wild and uncoordinated to those who were ignorant of battle but for Barristan it was a dance and Thoros was a master at it. The flames on the sword only made it even more like art as they seemed to almost come alive as the sword moved.

Lord Jason had done well to continue for this long but as he watched him tire Barristan began to worry for the man. Melee's had rules and serious injuries were actually pretty rare but when dealing with a flaming sword even one mistake could be fatal. He watched as the priest swung low and high, wide arcs and short thrusts, feints and parries and the Riverland lord's resistance began to fade. Jaime Lannister had once said that Ser Barristan was an artist who painted only in red, well if that was the case he just found one who's color was green.

The sword came crashing down, the flames growing higher, Lord Jason tried to move back but it was too late and as Ser Barristan watched the flame get close to the man's face he shuddered. It ended without injury though, Lord Jason in moving backwards to avoid the flames had slipped and within seconds had yielded as Thoros pointed the flaming sword at this chest.

"Now that's a fight, eh Barristan." the king drunkenly said.

"Aye. Your grace a fine fight indeed." he replied.

"So who's left?" the king asked and Barristan squirmed, was the man that damn drunk.

"Ser Jorah, the Hound and Thoros, Your grace." he responded as the king drained his tankard and nodded to his squire for more.

Barristan looked from the field around the crowd, not checking for threats but more to see who was engaged and who not, Mace Tyrell was surrounded by his lords and was speaking animatedly, no doubt explaining his own martial prowess though he possessed none. Ser Brynden had sat back among his family, his old friend had done well and the fight with Bronze Yohn had stirred memories of their times together.

He looked up to see Jaime Lannister sitting with his family, all of them laughing and joking at something the young lad was saying, he looked closer at the young boy, Ned Stark's bastard squiring for Jaime Lannister had caused a bit of a stir and Ser Barristan couldn't understand the reason for it.

As he watched him the boy turned so he was almost facing him, his dark grey eyes catching the light causing him to blink before it was gone, was that purple he saw, no it must have been the light he thought as he watched the older Lannister uncles nudge the boy, as the boy smiled back at them Barristan's heart almost stopped.

The fight was down to the last three people, Ser Jorah and the hound were fighting each other and Thoros had thrown down his sword and moved to his final one, he took a large swallow from his wineskin the cool liquid refreshing him as he swallowed, he turned and grabbed the last bottle of wildfire, the fight between the two men would be over soon and he'd be ready for the winner.

Sandor.

Sandor was tired, very tired but compared to the man he was fighting he was in much better shape, the two had only been fighting for five minutes or so but the power both put behind their blows had taken their toll, it wouldn't be long now he thought as he swung again.

His blow caught the other man flat footed and gave him the opening he needed, it took him just three more strikes and the fight was over, all three had hit home and Sandor knew they'd bruise but it could be worse, in a real fight Jorah would have lost an arm, he placed his sword at the northerners throat.

"I Yield." the man said as he nodded at him.

"Well fought, Clegane." Ser Jorah said a note of respect in his voice, he turned and left the arena turning back to see Thoros sword light up yet again, better you than me he thought as he looked at the hound before leaving.

Thoros moved quickly once the fight was done, he lit his sword and approached as fast as he could, as he closed the distance the hound turned and Thoros saw it in his eyes, fear, this would be easy he thought as the two men face each other.

"Keep that damn fire away from me Priest."

"I'm afraid I can't comply Clegane, my lord commands me not you."

"Touch me with that damn fire and you'll be seeing your lord sooner than you planned."

"If that's R'hllor's will then so be it, shall we?" Thoros said as he moved to swing the sword.

Sandor moved away from the flaming sword, all thoughts and battle plans gone in that moment, replaced by one simple overriding concern, don't get burned, don't get burned. He barely parried the first stroked and when the second one hit his arm his instincts kicked in, he dropped the sword from his other hand and quickly went to put the flames out.

"Yield?"

"Aye I yield." Sandor said relieved that the flames hadn't caught.

The crowd cheered as Thoros was declared the winner, the flames on his sword finally gone out as he bowed and waved. Jon looked to Gerion and smiled while Tyrion looked on grumpily, Jaime just laughed, who was Jon going to pick in the joust he wondered.