The Opening Feast

Jace found himself once again in the dreamscape, facing off against the infamous King Maegor the Cruel. True to his word, Maegor had taken it upon himself to train Jace, though his methods were far different from any instructor Jace had ever encountered. Maegor's philosophy was simple: overwhelm your opponent, either with strength, speed, or both. If you couldn't manage one, you'd never be a good fighter. "Overwhelm your opponent!" Maegor shouted as he swung his sword. "Strike him thrice for every one time he strikes back! Don't let him think!"

Jace was constantly on the defensive, barely managing to block Maegor's powerful blows, mostly retreating to avoid being overwhelmed. He tried to come up with a plan to counter Maegor's relentless assault, but there was no time. Maegor didn't give him a moment to breathe, let alone think. Another swing, another block, another step back. Jace found himself thrown to the ground once more. "Stop thinking and act!" Maegor's voice boomed as Jace scrambled to his feet. "You're on the defensive, you can't afford to hesitate! Think only when you have the initiative!"

Jace took a deep breath, trying to focus. He charged at Maegor, attacking aggressively. This time, Maegor nodded approvingly. "Good! Split your focus, keep attacking with one part of your mind and form a plan with the other!" Jace did as he was told, trying to keep up the assault while also looking for an opening. He managed to graze Maegor's arm with his sword, eliciting a smile from the older man that Jace found deeply disturbing.

"Again!" Maegor shouted, kicking Jace in the chest and sending him sprawling.

Jace wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. He pushed himself up, feeling the bruises and cuts from the relentless training. He launched himself at Maegor once more, trying to balance aggression with strategy. He kept swinging, aiming for Maegor's weak spots while trying to anticipate his next move.

Maegor's strikes came faster, but Jace managed to block a few, even getting a hit in on Maegor's side. "Better," Maegor grunted, a hint of approval in his voice. "But you must be faster. You must be stronger. Overwhelm me!" Jace felt his muscles burn as he pushed himself harder, swinging his sword with all the strength he could muster.

Jace's training with Maegor seemed to stretch on for days at a time. Every night he closed his eyes in the waking world, he would find himself back in the dreamscape, face-to-face with the imposing figure of Maegor Targaryen. The time spent here worked differently, each night in the real world feeling like countless days in the dream, filled with relentless sparring and harsh lessons.

The sun never seemed to set in this dream world, casting an eerie, perpetual twilight over the scene. Jace's body ached with the accumulation of wounds and bruises, each session with Maegor pushing him to the edge of his endurance. Every muscle screamed in protest, but he kept going, driven by a determination to become the warrior he needed to be.

"Faster, Jacaerys!" Maegor bellowed, swinging his sword with brutal precision. "You hesitate too much. An enemy won't wait for you to think."

Jace gritted his teeth, blocking a powerful strike and countering with one of his own. The sword felt heavy in his hand, his movements growing sluggish as exhaustion set in. But Maegor was relentless, his attacks unceasing. "Do not stop!" Maegor commanded, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness around them. "You must learn to fight through pain, through fatigue. There are no breaks in battle." Jace pushed himself harder, ignoring the burning in his muscles and the sharp pain of fresh cuts.

Jace didn't understand how exhaustion and injuries worked in this place, but he could feel everything. Each blow from Maegor's sword sent jolts of pain through his body, and the constant physical exertion left him feeling drained. He was just glad that it didn't carry over when he woke up. His real body remained unscathed, free from the bruises and cuts that littered his dream self. However, the lack of physical consequences also meant that any muscle he built here didn't carry over to the waking world. This realization frustrated him. The skills he learned from Maegor were invaluable, but he would have to spend a lot of time training his real body to gain the muscle memory and strength to use them effectively.

Jace's days were a blend of rigorous training and cherished moments with his friends and family. Despite the intensity of his nightly training with Maegor, his waking hours were equally demanding. Daemon and Edryck pushed him relentlessly, each with their distinct philosophies on combat and life.

Daemon's training philosophy was similar to Maegors and rooted in his hotheaded personality and his experiences as a warrior. "Fight like your life depends on it because it usually does," he often said. His approach was aggressive and relentless. "A true warrior doesn't just defend; he attacks, he presses forward, and he never lets his opponent catch their breath."

Edryck, on the other hand, emphasized discipline and precision. "Speed and strength are important, but without control, they're useless," he would say. "Master your emotions, focus your energy, and strike with purpose."

Each morning began at dawn. Jace would rise, his body aching from the previous day's exertions, but he pushed through the pain. In the courtyard, Daemon awaited him, wooden swords in hand. "Morning, Jace," Daemon greeted, his eyes sharp and expectant. "Ready to get your daily beating?"

Jace sighed but nodded, steeling himself for the gruelling hours ahead. Daemon's training sessions were brutal. He would attack with ferocity, forcing Jace to react quickly. "Overwhelm your opponent," Daemon would shout. "If you're not attacking, you're losing."

Jace struggled at first, often finding himself on the ground, gasping for breath. But Daemon's relentless pressure forced him to adapt. He learned to move faster, strike harder, and think less. "Trust your instincts," Daemon would say. "Your mind will catch up later."

In the afternoons, Edryck took over. His sessions were no less intense but were focused on refining Jace's technique. "Precision, my prince," Edryck would remind him. "It's not just about hitting hard; it's about hitting the right spot at the right time." Edryck drilled Jace on footwork, defensive manoeuvres, and timing. They sparred with both wooden and steel swords, Edryck emphasizing the importance of control and restraint. "A wild swing can be your downfall," he would say. "Stay balanced, stay focused."

Jace's progress was evident. His strikes became more precise, his defences more solid, and his endurance improved.

...

Daemon and Edryck stood on the edge of the training yard, watching intently as Jace faced off against three squires. The sun beat down, casting long shadows as the combatants squared off. They knew he had improved, but they were ready to test just how much.

Jace lunged forward first, not giving the squires a moment to react. His wooden sword cracked against the first squire's ribs, eliciting a grunt of pain. He didn't stop. He spun around, delivering a quick, sharp blow to the second squire's thigh, causing him to stumble. The third squire tried to counter, but Jace was relentless, smashing his sword against the squire's arm, knocking the weapon out of his hand.

"Good! Keep pushing!" Daemon shouted from the sidelines, his eyes gleaming with approval.

Jace felt the rush of adrenaline as he pressed his advantage. The first squire, regaining his footing, swung his sword at Jace's head. Jace ducked under the swing, ramming his shoulder into the squire's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The second squire came at him from the side, but Jace pivoted, his sword slamming into the squire's side with a resounding thud. He let out a howl of pain, falling to his knees. The third squire, weaponless but determined, charged at Jace, hoping to tackle him to the ground. Jace saw him coming and sidestepped at the last moment, bringing his sword down hard on the squire's back. The squire crumpled to the ground with a gasp, trying to catch his breath.

Jace stood over his fallen opponents, chest heaving, eyes blazing with determination. The training yard was silent except for the laboured breathing of the defeated squires. Daemon and Edryck exchanged a look of satisfaction, nodding in approval.

...

Over the next month, Jace's training intensified. Every morning began with rigorous physical conditioning—running laps around the Red Keep, battering a training dummy, and practising his footwork. Daemon and Edryck pushed him hard.

Jace sparred daily, sometimes with wooden swords, other times with blunted steel. He faced multiple opponents regularly, honing his ability to manage multiple threats simultaneously. He learned to attack relentlessly, using his aggression to unbalance his foes, while also developing the mental discipline to maintain control. His sessions with Daemon were particularly gruelling. In addition to his physical training, Jace spent time studying battle tactics and strategy. Daemon insisted that a true warrior needed to understand the larger picture, to think several moves ahead. They discussed historical battles, analyzed different fighting styles, and debated the merits of various weapons and armour. These sessions, though less physically demanding, were mentally exhausting and equally crucial to his development.

Jace's evenings were spent practising with a lance and riding. He knew he wouldn't pose a challenge to any of the knights just yet when it came to jousting, but that wouldn't stop him from getting better and perhaps winning next time. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't try his best this time.

As Cregan's injuries healed, he rejoined Jace in the training yard. The Northern boy was eager to resume their sparring, but he quickly realized how much Jace had improved. Their first few matches were eye-opening for Cregan; Jace's newfound aggression and skill left him struggling to keep up. Despite this, their sessions were spirited, and Cregan pushed himself hard to match Jace's pace. "You're a different fighter now," Cregan remarked one afternoon after a particularly intense sparring session. "I can't believe how much you've improved."

Jace smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I've had good teachers."

The month passed quickly, each day blending into the next as Jace immersed himself in his training. The bruises and aches became constant companions, but they were a small price to pay for the skills he was gaining. He felt himself becoming stronger, faster, and more confident with each passing day.

Finally, the day of the tournament arrived.

——————————————————

Jace stood at the docks, the early morning sun casting long shadows behind him. He wore a black doublet and breeches with black leather boots. His hair was swept back behind his ears, and his face was set with anticipation. Behind him stood Edryck and Erryk, along with a few other members of the Kingsguard and a squad of Goldcloaks. Standing next to Jace was his mother, Rhaenyra, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"They're almost here," Jace said, spotting two boats in the distance.

As the boats drew closer, the figures on deck became more distinguishable. His grandfather, Corlys Velaryon, and his grandmother, Rhaenys Targaryen, appeared at the bow of the first boat. When they disembarked, Jace greeted them with a polite bow, but Rhaenys wouldn't have any of it. She pulled him into a tight hug.

"It's good to see you, Jace," she said warmly.

"Good to see you too, Grandmother," Jace replied, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Following closely behind them was his father, Laenor Velaryon, who smiled brightly at Jace. In his arms, he held Joffrey Velaryon, Jace's youngest brother, and at his heel was Lucerys. Jace quickly moved to hug his father and brothers.

"Father, it's been too long," Jace said, hugging Laenor.

Laenor smiled and returned the hug. "Indeed it has, my son."

Laenor then hugged Rhaenyra, kissing her cheek before handing Joffrey to her, making her smile. Luke ran to his mother and hugged her tightly.

Jace then approached his grandfather, Corlys. "Are they on the other ship?" he asked.

Corlys nodded. "Yes, they are."

"Have you made arrangements?" Corlys inquired.

Jace nodded. "A place to stay and jobs, should they need them."

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out three gold dragons, handing them to Corlys. Seeing the confused look on his grandfather's face, Jace smirked and said, "For travel expenses."

Corlys let a small smile crack on his face before he pulled Jace into a hug. "I'm proud of you, Jace," he replied. Jace felt warmth in his heart at his grandfather's words and even felt a genuine smile reach his face as he disconnected from the hug.

Rhaenyra stepped forward, a look of sincere regret on her face. "I apologize that the King could not come to greet you. He has been weak as of late," she said softly.

Rhaenys waved it off, a gentle smile on her lips. "No need to apologize, Rhaenyra. We understand."

Corlys nodded in agreement. "Health is more important. Besides I am glad to be greeted by my family."

As they all moved towards the carriages waiting to take them to the Red Keep, Jace pulled Edryck aside. "Edryck, can you organize the people on the second boat and lead them to their new home?" he asked.

"Of course," Edryck replied with a nod.

Jace then turned to a few of the Goldcloaks. "I need you to assist Edryck in this task. Make sure everything goes smoothly," he ordered.

The Goldcloaks nodded and followed Edryck towards the second boat. Jace watched them for a moment, ensuring they were on their way, before turning back to join his family. The carriages were waiting, their doors open and ready. Jace climbed into one with his mother, father, and brothers and his grandparents. As the wheels began to turn and the carriages started moving, Jace looked out the window, watching Edryck and the Goldcloaks coordinating the newcomers. As the carriages made their way through the bustling streets of King's Landing, Jace turned to his younger brother, Luke, who was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement.

"You should see the knights that have come for the tournament," Jace said, his eyes lighting up. "There are so many of them, from all over the Seven Kingdoms. And guess what? Uncle Daemon is planning to joust again."

Luke's eyes widened with excitement. "Uncle Daemon is jousting? I can't wait to see that! Do you think he'll win?"

Jace chuckled. "Knowing Uncle Daemon, he'll put on quite a show. But there are many skilled knights here. It's going to be a tough competition."

Laenor leaned in, his interest piqued. "Daemon in a joust again? That will be something to see. He always did enjoy the spectacle."

As the carriages approached the grand gates of the Red Keep, the towering walls of the castle loomed above them. The guards at the gate stood at attention, their armour gleaming in the sunlight as they saluted the arriving carriages. The carriages came to a halt in the courtyard, and the doors were opened by attendants. Corlys, Rhaenys, Laenor, Luke, and little Joffrey came out, taking in the grandeur of the Red Keep. Waiting for them were King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and Otto Hightower. Viserys managed a smile despite his frailty, his eyes brightening at the sight of his family.

"Welcome back to King's Landing," Viserys said warmly, embracing Corlys and Rhaenys. "It's good to see you both."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Corlys replied with a respectful nod. "We've missed the capital."

Alicent stepped forward, her expression warm yet reserved. "Welcome, Rhaenys, Corlys. It's good to have you here."

"Thank you, Queen Alicent," Rhaenys replied with a polite nod. "It's been too long."

Otto Hightower inclined his head in greeting. "Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys. It's an honour to see you both."

Viserys turned his attention to Laenor, Luke, and Joffrey. "And you, Laenor, it's been too long. Luke, my boy, you've grown so much! And little Joffrey, welcome."

Laenor smiled brightly, embracing the King. "Thank you, Your Grace. It's good to be back."

Viserys looked at each of them with genuine warmth. "I hope you'll all join us for the feast tonight. It will be a grand affair to announce the start of the tournament."

"We wouldn't miss it, Your Grace," Corlys replied, a smile touching his lips.

Servants soon approached, ready to lead the newly arrived guests to their rooms. As everyone began to head back into the castle, Jace couldn't help but cast a glance at Aegon and Aemond. Aemond avoided his gaze, but Aegon still wore that infuriating smirk, though anger flickered in his eyes.

"Looking very 'Strong,' Luke," Aegon taunted. "You must be eating well, or perhaps just good lineage."

"Go inside, Aegon, before this becomes a problem," Jace said, placing a protective hand on his brother's shoulder.

Aegon snickered but before he could say anything, Aemond grabbed his arm. "Let's go, the Lannisters and Tyrells are expecting us," Aemond said. Aegon grumbled but didn't resist as Aemond pulled him away.

Luke looked up at Jace with worried eyes. "Is it true what they say? Me and Joffrey don't look like you or Father. Are we really your brothers?"

Jace squeezed Luke's shoulder before pulling him into a tight hug. "You are my brothers, and nothing they or anyone can say will change that," he replied firmly.

As he finished hugging Luke, Helaena approached them, wrapping her arms around Luke. "It's been a long time," she said warmly.

Daella joined them as well, greeting Luke. "It's good to see you, Luke," she said with a smile. It had been a few months since they last met, and Luke had done a lot to cheer Daella up while Jace was injured.

As they all walked towards the keep, Jace asked, "Are you looking forward to the feast tonight?"

Helaena and Daella both smiled. "We had dresses made especially for this day," Daella said.

"Well actually, we had them made for your birthday," Helaena added with a pout. "But you chose to spend the whole day training instead of celebrating."

Jace smiled sheepishly. "I wanted to be ready."

Daella asked, "Will they even let you in the melee?"

Jace shrugged. "I wasn't going to ask. There will be plenty of mystery knights."

Luke's eyes widened, and he almost screamed, "You're entering the melee?!"

Jace cursed under his breath before covering Luke's mouth with his hand. He leaned down and whispered, "You can't tell anyone, you understand? Not Mother, not Father, no one. Otherwise, I won't be able to join."

Luke nodded eagerly. Jace removed his hand, and Luke immediately bombarded him with questions about the melee and his plans. Jace sighed audibly while Helaena and Daella giggled at the scene.

——————————————————-

The feast was a grand affair, bustling with hundreds, if not thousands, of people. It was so large that it couldn't be held in the Red Keep and had been moved to the newly constructed tournament grounds. Banners from all over the six kingdoms and even Dorne fluttered in the evening breeze. Some Iron Islander houses had also made the journey, adding to the diversity of the gathering.

The grounds were transformed into a massive dining hall. Long tables groaned under the weight of a variety of dishes. Roast boar, venison, and whole swans were laid out alongside fish, pies, and an abundance of bread. Platters of fruit, cheeses, and cakes were strategically placed, ensuring there was something for everyone. Servants moved seamlessly among the tables, filling goblets with wine and ale, ensuring no one went thirsty.

Viserys stood up, catching everyone's attention. "Lords and ladies, I present to you the Princes and Princesses of the Realm." The announcement drew all eyes to the centre.

First came Jace and Helaena, walking together. Jace wore a fine black doublet with matching breeches and black leather boots. His hair was swept behind his ears, giving him a regal appearance. Helaena wore a beautiful red and black dress that flowed elegantly as she moved. The dress was richly embroidered, the colours symbolizing their house.

Following them were Aegon and Jeyne Lannister. Aegon's outfit was lavish, a rich burgundy tunic with gold embroidery, making him stand out. Jeyne wore a golden gown that shimmered under the lights, with a golden lion broach pinned to it. Next came Aemond and Alarie Tyrell. Aemond was dressed in a black doublet with green trim, a nod to his mother's house. Alarie wore a green dress adorned with golden roses, a clear symbol of House Tyrell. Lastly, Lucerys and Daella made their way down the centre aisle. Lucerys wore a deep blue tunic with silver accents, while Daella wore a light blue gown that complemented her fair complexion. They walked straight to the King, where all eyes followed them.

Alicent had a small scowl on her face as she saw Jace linking arms with Helaena, but she hid it well enough.

Jace approached the King and wished him well on his name day. "I was not sure what to gift you," he admitted.

Viserys laughed. "The presence of family is all I need."

Jace smiled and said, "Nevertheless, I did manage to find you something." He nodded to a servant who brought over a bottle of wine. "I am sure people know of the mysterious new wine that has appeared as of late. Well, I managed to speak to the procurer, and he sold me a true vintage, one of the best he's ever made if he's to be believed." Jace stepped forward and placed the bottle in his grandfather's hands.

"A most marvellous gift, Jace. I am eager to try it."

"As are we all," Daemon added, eliciting a laugh from the crowd and Viserys.

The children then moved to their seats on the upper dais, and the feast began in earnest.

The royal family on the upper dais enjoyed their meal, with Viserys presiding over the gathering with a warm smile. The food was plentiful, with whole pigs roasted to perfection, and seasoned with herbs that made the air smell wonderful. Large platters of roasted vegetables, potatoes, and bread sat beside the meats. Fish dishes, seasoned and cooked in various styles, catered to those who preferred the bounty of the sea. Sweet pies, tarts, and puddings ended the meal on a high note. Goblets of wine and ale were never empty for long. The servants were diligent, moving through the crowd with pitchers and bottles. The wine flowed freely, enhancing the already boisterous atmosphere. The ale, darker and stronger, was a favourite among many lords who relished its robust flavour.

Throughout the night, lords stood and presented Viserys with gifts for his name day. The presentations were as varied as the people who gave them. Cregan presented a finely crafted blade, its hilt adorned with the direwolf sigil. From the Reach, Lord Tyrell offered a magnificent tapestry depicting the history of House Targaryen. The Martells of Dorne gifted a rare and exotic spice collection. Even the Iron Islanders had brought a gift: a hefty chest filled with the finest ironwork from their forges, a practical yet valuable offering. Each presentation was met with applause from the crowd and a gracious nod from Viserys, who seemed genuinely pleased with the attention and generosity.

Jace and Helaena sat together, laughing and talking, enjoying the feast. Helaena's eyes sparkled with excitement as she leaned closer to Jace. "Daella and I have been invited to visit Dorne by the Princess," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Can you imagine? A land full of sand and sun."

Jace nodded, smiling at her enthusiasm. "It does sound amazing," he agreed, though inwardly, he worried about the Dornish. They were known for their long memories and deep-seated grudges. Could this be a ploy? He glanced over to the other table on the upper dais where the Dornish party was seated. His eyes met those of Princess Aliandra Martell, a striking Dornish beauty. Her skin was a warm bronze, and her dark eyes sparkled. Her black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, adorned with golden jewellery that caught the light. She wore a flowing dress of deep red and gold, accentuating her graceful figure. As their eyes met, she winked at Jace, causing him to look away quickly and shake off his thoughts.

"Have you ever visited other people's dreams or seen people from the past?" Jace asked Helaena, trying to refocus his mind.

Helaena shook her head. "No, I've only been able to visit you," she replied softly. "Though sometimes, I can feel the presence of others, like a faint whisper at the edge of my mind."

Jace looked thoughtful. "That's interesting..." As Jace and Helaena continued their conversation, the hall fell silent as Viserys stood once more. He thanked everyone for being there, his voice strong and clear over the buzz of the feast. "Let's get to the reason you have all come here, especially the eager knights and green nobles coming to prove themselves," he said, smiling warmly at the crowd.

Viserys then announced, "Tomorrow will start with the Melee. Competitors will fight each other one by one until only eight of them are left. After that, we will commence the Blood Melee."

Loud whispers and gasps rippled through the crowd at this unexpected announcement.

"Some of you may not recognize this as it is not a Westerosi tradition," Viserys continued, raising his hand to calm the murmurs. "Many of you lords have visited tournaments one after the other, and I'm sure it gets rather droll. The Blood Melee will be a free-for-all between the eight, but they will not be the only competitors."

He paused, letting the suspense build.

"Lions, wolves, bears—they will be released into the ring, and the last man standing will win fifty thousand gold dragons."

The gasps grew louder. That was more than the joust prize, and the danger of such a contest was clear. Excitement and fear mingled in the air.

"It is dangerous, I know," Viserys called out, raising his hand again. "Which is why I suggest you do not enter unless you are certain of your skill."

The crowd buzzed with excitement and trepidation at the prospect.

"We also have other events planned," Viserys continued. "The Joust will take place the day after tomorrow, followed by the Archery competition. And for those less inclined to violence, we will have a singing competition to showcase the talents of the realm." He smiled, clearly pleased with the reactions from the lords and ladies. Viserys stood, raising his goblet high, and said, "Now with the important announcements finished, please stand up and dance. If we do not have a flurry of new betrothals by the end of this tourney, then I'll have to call another." Laughter rippled through the crowd at his jest.

He gestured to the bards, who immediately struck up a lively tune. Lords and ladies began to rise, making their way to the dance floor. Jace had stopped listening to Viserys when he mentioned the Blood Melee. It sounded interesting, almost fun. He made eye contact with Cregan, who was seated at a nearby table below. They shared a knowing smile and both nodded. Jace was brought out of his thoughts when he felt Helaena pinch him.

He looked over to see her with a displeased, worried look on her face. "Jace..." she said in a warning tone. He didn't need to hear the rest of her words to know what she meant.

'Don't you dare think about entering the Melee now.'

Jace smiled and stood, offering his hand. "Care to dance, Princess?" She narrowed her eyes at him but accepted his hand. They headed to the front where they joined the others in dancing.

As they danced, Jace whispered to her, "Don't worry, I won't even make it to the final eight. There are many strong competitors here." He twirled her around.

"And if you do?" she replied as she came back in close to him.

"It won't come to that," he said, avoiding the question. Helaena still looked concerned, but Jace just smiled. "I don't plan on dying anytime soon," he said, squeezing her gently. Helaena sighed but smiled back.

"Alright, I believe you," she said.

They continued to dance, moving gracefully among the other couples. The music was lively, and the atmosphere was filled with joy and excitement. Eventually, they switched partners. Helaena went off with Gerold Lannister, and Jace found himself dancing with Maris Baratheon.

"You look very pretty tonight," Jace said to Maris.

She giggled at that. "I'm usually called the smart one," she said, though there was a hint of resentment in her voice.

"Why can't you be both?" Jace replied, giving her a soft smile that made her heart beat fast.

They eventually changed partners again, and Jace found himself dancing with the beautiful Princess of Dorne.

"We didn't have a chance to meet before," she said, her words playful and her actions flirtatious.

Jace smiled politely. "I'm sure that Aegon was pleasant company," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Unless you have a different meaning for the word pleasant, I would not say so," she replied bluntly.

Jace laughed. "Well, perhaps Aemond might be more to your tastes."

She pulled Jace in close as if to whisper something, but instead, she licked his ear. "I know where my tastes lie... should you develop the taste for something exotic, then you know where to find me," she said with a sultry smile before the dance ended and Jace sat down to take a break.

Cregan looked up at Sara, who had dressed in a fine grey and white dress that complemented her skin tone. The gown flowed elegantly, with delicate embroidery along the sleeves and hem. Despite having fun with the lads, Cregan could tell she wanted to dance. She may not act like it, but she is quite the lady, which explained her close bond with Daella. He followed Sara's gaze to Jace, who was currently dancing with Daella, both of them laughing and enjoying the music.

"Do you want to dance?" Cregan offered, looking up at her.

Sara looked down at him, scrunched up her features, then laughed. "Been hanging around the Targaryens too much, eh, brother?" she replied.

Cregan audibly sighed and turned his head back around. "If you want to dance, ask him."

"Fuck off," Sara replied, suddenly annoyed, crossing her arms. The song ended, and Cregan caught Jace's eye, gesturing towards Sara. He thanked the gods when Jace immediately understood and made his way over.

Jace approached the Stark table, greeting Lords Manderly and Umber, both large men who squeezed his hand hard and clapped him on the shoulder. He clasped arms with Cregan, who whispered jokingly, "Keep your hands where I can see them," making Jace laugh.

Sara looked at Jace and smirked. "Finally had enough of your fancy watered-down wine, Prince?" she said with an exaggerated bow.

Jace laughed, took her mug, and took a heavy swig from it, making the northern lords laugh and slam their cups down. "I'd outdrink you any day of the week, Snow," he replied with a smile as he finished drinking.

"You're on," she said, accepting his challenge. They both sat at the table and downed northern ale. Jace slammed his cup down and raised his hands, the lords all jumping up in cheers. Sara finished a few moments later, cursing as she threw the cup away.

"I win. Now, as my prize, I shall have a dance," Jace said, offering her his hand. Sara went to speak, but before she could, he grabbed her and led her to the floor. "This isn't seemly, Jace. I am a bastard, and you're the bloody heir to the Iron Throne."

"Technically, I'm second in line," he responded as they began to dance.

"You know what I bloody mean," she replied.

Jace laughed. "Since when have you been concerned with appearing seemly?" he retorted. Sara huffed in response.

Jace looked at her, admiring her appearance. Her dark hair curled and cascaded down her back, her dress accentuating her figure. "You look beautiful tonight, Sara," Jace said. This caught Sara by surprise, and she found herself breathless for a moment as they danced together.

"People are looking," she whispered.

"Let them look," he responded.

When the song finished, Jace took a bow and kissed her hand. "Thank you for the dance," he said. Sara bowed her head, a heavy blush on her face, and quickly returned to Cregan and the other northerners. Before her brother could speak, she snapped, "Not a word."

Jace went back to his seat, watching the feast start to die down as people began to head to sleep.

Later, Jace lay down and closed his eyes. He felt his body start to move, flying out of itself. When he opened his eyes, he was standing before Maegor again, who didn't recognize him for a moment. Then Maegor's eyes lit up in recognition.

"It is quite an annoyance that my memories of you cease to be when I am not in the dream," Maegor said, clutching Blackfyre.

"The Melee is here. It's tomorrow," Jace stated.

"Then it seems we do not have time to spare," Maegor replied.

(AN: The tournament is here, after this there will be a time skip to when Jace is older, probably 15 or something idk. Anyway I wanted to spice up the tournament a bit and I thought this would be a good way. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)

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