Chapter 12: The Tourney Part 2

Just a reminder. I do not own Game of Thrones of A Song of Ice and Fire.

Sansa

"Why."

"Oh gods, why did I kiss him?"

The same question popped into Sansa's head over and over and gave her a sleepless night. Her head had been spinning ever since she kissed Roland.

"Roland," Sansa said to herself. The sound of his name on her lips brought a smile to her lips. "Oh Roland, why couldn't you be the firstborn." The kiss did confirm one thing that had been on her mind for some time. She was in love with Roland, and she was sure that He loved her back. Now she wished for only one thing. To break from Joffrey and a betrothal to his younger brother

Today would be the final day of the Tourney, so Sansa started preparing accordingly. She brushed her hair, keeping it in a simple northern style, washed her face. As she put on a light blue dress to match her eyes Sansa's mind drifted to Roland once again. His jet black hair, his dark blue eyes. His handsome features that displayed kindness, strength, and ferocity all in one.

"Thinking about HIM again," said a voice behind her. Sansa's head whirled around and faced her sister. Arya was standing behind her with a large grin on her face.

"Who?" Sansa asked, trying to seem innocent.

"You know who I'm talking about," Said Arya in exasperation. "Roland."

"Oh" Sansa sighed, she knew better than to deny it. "Yes," she admitted.

Arya smiled, "well I don't blame you, after what happened between the two of you last night. It would be hard not to think of him."

"It was only one dance Arya, it doesn't mean anything," Sansa said defensively.

Arya laughed and shook her head. "I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about what happened after."

Sansa grew as white as a sheet. 'Please no,' she thought, 'please say she didn't see.' "What do you mean?" she asked nervously.

"I saw you kiss last night," Arya replied. Then she grinned and asked, "tell me, how was it?"

"How-but-why would you?" Sans sputtered. By now she was terrified, Arya had seen them, who knows what will happen now "I don't know why I did it. It just happened." Sansa covered her face with her hands and started to cry, "please don't tell the father, I won't do it again a swear."

Arya dropped down in front of Sansa and put her hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, I won't tell a soul don't worry."

Sansa looked at her little sister and smiled, "thank you" she said gratefully. "I don't know why I kissed him."

"I know why," Arya said. Sansa looked at her for the answer. "It's because you love him."

Sansa shook her head in despair. "I do love him," she admitted through her tears. "With all my heart, I love Roland. But how can I ever love him when I am to marry his brother. Joffrey will be king one day. I can never be with Roland no matter how much I want to."

"Don't worry," Arya reassured her, "we'll find a way so that you can be with him."

Sansa smiled and kissed her sister on the forehead. "Are you coming to the tourney?"

Arya shook her head, "Not this time, I need to go to my dancing lessons."

Sansa cocked an eyebrow, 'Arya at dancing lessons,' Sansa decided not to question it further. lest she finds out something that she didn't need to know.

Finally, she was ready, Sansa made her way to the Tourney grounds with Septa Mordane. She took the same seats she did the day before. A few moments later, Her father took Arya's seat right next to her. Sansa looked up at the royal box and noticed that someone was missing. Cersei was here this time, next to the King and Joffrey right next to her. But the seat next to King Robert was empty.

"Where is Roland?" She asked her father.

Ned gave her a sad smile. "I'm afraid Roland has been taken ill today sweet girl. Something in his dinner caused him stomach pains."

Disappointed, Sansa turned and watched the finalist take the field. First was Ser Jaime Lannister clad in his usual golden armor under his white cloak. Next was Loras Tyrell, also called the knight of the flowers. Ser Loras was by far the most beautiful man Sansa had ever laid eyes upon. With his flowing brown hair and eyes as golden as the flower on his banner. Then came Sandor Clegane. Sansa had a certain hatred for Prince Joffrey's shield. He had butchered Arya's friend like a pig and his scarred face scared her.

Finally, the Hounds brother rode past. As scared as she was of the Hound. No one terrified Sansa more than Ser Gregor Clegane. Gregor Clegane was the biggest man Sansa had ever seen. He looked as horrible as the monsters in the songs and looked it too. She had heard the tales from her father about his crimes and it frightened her.

The King Gave the signal and the tourney began. First up was Jaime Lannister vs. Sandor Clegane. Lord Baelish and Lord Renly were making bets as to who will win.

"One hundred gold dragons on the Kingslayer," he challenged.

"Done," said Lord Renly. "The Hound looks hungry today."

For some reason, Sansa had a feeling that the Hound would win. Sure enough, after breaking their lances once, Sandor Clegane sent his opponent face down into the dirt.

"I knew the Hound would win," Sansa said grimly.

"Maybe you should tell me who will win the next round," Littlefinger jested. "Or Lord Renly will pluck me clean."

Next to joust was Loras Tyrell and Gregor Clegane. The Knight of the flowers surprised Sansa by riding up to her and handing her a red rose. "Sweet lady," he said. "No victory is half as beautiful as you." Sansa blushed and accepted the rose, "Thank you Ser Loras." After what had happened to Jon Arryn's squire. Sansa was very worried about him. "Father, please don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," she pleaded. Ned put his hand on hers to reassure her.

"Another hundred gold dragons on the Mountain," Littlefinger called to Renly.

"I'll take the bet," Lord Renly accepted.

"So how should I spent your dragons?" Littlefinger asked.

Renly smirked in amusement. "Maybe you can buy a friend," he suggested.

Sansa couldn't help but notice that Ser Gregor was having trouble controlling his horse. As the two knights clashed. Ser Gregor's horse stumbled and the Mountain toppled to the ground. The grounds erupted into cheers.

"Littlefinger didn't seem discouraged in the least. Instead, he leaned down and whispered. "Ser Loras knew his mare was in heat, quite crafty of him really."

Sansa was disturbed by this revelation. Despite not wanting to believe it, it did explain why Ser Gregor's horse was acting so strange. Sansa didn't want to believe that a Knight such as Ser Loras would stoop down to such an underhanded trick.

"Ser Loras would never do that, there's no honor in tricks."

"No honor" Littlefinger agreed."But quite a bit of gold."

But those cheers immediately turned to screams as a furious Ser Gregor and beheaded his own horse and advanced on Ser Loras. It was likely that he would have killed him if the Hound hadn't intervened. Instead of crying, Sansa had taken Roland's words to heart and steeled herself.

After a brief struggle, the king finally puts an end to it and the Mountain stalked off in anger. As a reward for saving his life. Ser Loras named Sandor the champion of the jousts.

After the Joust came the melee. The melee was by far the most dangerous of the competitions as it was more like an actual battle. Over forty men participated. The melee hardly had any knights of note in it. The only recognizable face was Thoros of Myr wielding a sword of wildfire. There were many mysterious knights attending, however.

The melee was the most exhilarating event Sansa had ever witnessed. One by one knight after knight fell. Thoros' flaming sword spooked the horses of the other riders. After a gruesome struggle, only two remained, Thoros of Myr, and a mysterious knight dressed all in black. The Knight wore all black with a winged helm and scale armor. He wore no cape and rode a black courser. His helmet had no visor, but nobody could see his face. Throughout the melee, the knight was shown to be a capable fighter. Often switching his sword between his right and left hand to combat an opponent on that respective side.

The two finalist rode to opposite ends of the field that charge towards each other. Their swords clashed as they passed each other. The knight proved to be as excellent a rider as a swordsman. He checked his steed and wheeled around with amazing skill and grace. The two fighters circled each other exchanging blows. It seemed that Thoros' sword had no effect on the dark knight's horse. It was clear that with his advantage rendered useless, he wasn't as good a swordsman as his opponent.

All throughout the duel, the knight didn't make a sound. He easily deflected the priest's blows and soon he began to tire. With one final powerful blow, the knight slashed at Thoros' breastplate. The blow missed barely missed his flesh but it made him reel far enough back to fall off his horse. With that, the melee was over. The knight rode over to Thoros and offered his hand, which Thoros accepted gratefully.

Sansa and the crowd cheered for the Knight as King Robert called him over. the Knight slowly made his way to the stands in front of the Royal family.

"Who are you ser knight?" He asked.

In reply, the knight removed his helm. It was revealed that he had been wearing a hood under his helmet. Slowly he removed the hood and looked up. Sansa breath caught her throat as she looked into the bloody, grinning face of Roland Baratheon.

Everyone was just as surprised as her. Ned looked at him in astonishment, the queen was gaping at her son. Joffrey, on the other hand, was staring at his younger brother, his usual hating stare had turned to one of envy. After a few moments of silence, the grounds once again erupted into cheers. The king himself burst out laughing.

"You got nerve boy," he roared heartily. He then stood up and descended towards Roland. Roland dismounted his horse and embraced his father.

"I thought you were sick," King Robert commented.

Roland shrugged, "Well how else was I suppose to get into the tourney without knowing that it's me at the helm?" He asked. Robert laughed "clever of you, maybe I should try that sometime.

Roland's smile widened, "No offense," he said. "But anyone would know who you are." Nodding towards the king's belly.

They made their way over to the queen, Roland bowed politely to his mother. In response the placed a gentle finger on his brow.

"You're hurt," She gasped. The look of concern, worry, and panic clear on her golden face.

"Don't worry mother," Roland replied gently grasping her hand with his two. "Tis but a scratch, it will heal soon."

For the first time since Sansa had seen her, Cersei gave a genuine smile as she kissed Rolands bruised hand. "At least have Grand Maester Pycelle looked at them."

"I will mother." He turned and looked at Sansa. Giving her a charming smile, he turned and headed towards the Red Keep.

Sansa continued to smile in admiration. 'Roland is my true knight,' she thought to herself. 'Joffrey is the monster keeping me captive and Roland will be the one to set me free. I no longer care if I never become queen, just as long as I can be with Roland.'

Sansa didn't know that her father had noticed that way she was looking at the Baratheon prince and was about to make a momentous decision.

Well, there you have it. Like it hates it don't really matter. By the way, the reason Cersei attended the tourney is that Cersei has become more discreet about her meetings with Jaime in case Roland catches them. As such she has been in attendance to more events to avoid suspicion. Anyway, until next time.