5

Ch 5

Game of Thrones belong to G.R.R.M

Fate Stay Night belong to Type Moon

SPECIAL THANKS: Cheeser for editing this bad boy for me. It would have looked a lot worse without him.

A Throne Nobody Wants

Chapter 5

*** King's Landing, Arthur***

Arthur stifled a groan as two sets of hands kneaded his shoulders and arms.

"Mmmm hmmm, that's right, let us take care of you..." A lovely dornish woman in her twenties cooed. Alongside her was another scantily clad dornish woman with long black hair that nodded in agreement.

The two women were a gift from Oberyn, normally a point of concern, but the prince of Dorne was hardly the first well-wisher from the nobility 'inspired' by his performance.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at some of the more brazen requests from highborn ladies, many of whom were married, asking for secret trysts... some of them even attaching small tuffs of hair to their parchment sheet. A bit confused, he had asked his second-in-command as to why they would do so, only to be informed from where they were taken, leaving him with a large blush that had lasted for several minutes.

God, were people ever as loose in Camelot? Would he have noticed? He certainly hadn't noticed Lancelot and Guinevere under his nose... Maybe his time had been a lot more amorous than he remembered...

A soft purr from the two women brought him out of his thoughts. The two women were expertly handling the bruises he had acquired from his joust, massaging healing oil commonly used in Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, into his flesh. Though it could have been self-administered, the treatment worked better if someone else applied it. However, there was a sense of danger Arthur could not quite pinpoint, the women faces were set, and they were acting very professionally, their gazes not lingering long on his form, unlike Daenerys. Their touches where firm and unyielding, worked out the knots from all of his aching muscle in a delicious way. Still, he remained cautious, because every now and then, the two women would share a look that gave him a bad feeling.

Any further thought was interrupted when he heard voices outside of his tent. He wondered if it was more couriers from nobles or shameless requests. How they moved so fast, he could only guess. It had only been less than an hour since he had won the Jousting . The flap at the entrance was pushed aside and in came his second-in-command, his face grim. Before Arthur could ask him what was he was doing here, three figures strode into his tent making his eyes nearly pop out from their sockets.

The first one he recognized right away. Dressed in her Lannister red and Baratheon gold was Princess Mordred, her eyes twinkling, a grin on her face as if she had earned some sort of victory. The second figure flanking the Princess was a red-haired beauty that was clearly younger than the princess. She was tall for her age and had a perfectly oval face with fascinating blue eyes. Her expression was apologetic, as was her stance, if such a thing was possible. It was then the last figure pushed past the Princess and the red haired maid and he had to smile. It was the girl he had crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty. The girl was a sharp contrast to the gold of Mordred's hair and the red of the other's yet it wasn't without its charm. The girl had a wild spirit, he could see that much at least, her dark hair was still was braided neatly but with touches to make it feminine. The blue winter roses, he noticed, still rested on her head.

It only took a second, but the girls' eyes landed on the scantily clad woman before falling on him. Their reactions were immediate, Arya blushing so red that it contrasted comically with the blue roses on her head. The redhead did not blush as heavily but there was a noticeable shift in her stance, as if she was fidgeting. It was Princess Mordred however, who eyes seemed to be openly staring at him. There was no maiden-like blush, but an intense look of something he couldn't quiet identify.

Smoothly, as to not give offense, he took his dark tunic and slipped it over his head in a single motion. The movement seemed to break the three out of the reverie as Arthur stood up and bowed towards the three ladies.

"My Ladies, to what do I owe such a visit?" He asked politely. He really didn't want to gather any attention, especially of the royal variety.

Mordred was the first to recover with a soft shake of her head. Suddenly she grinned and looked down at her dark haired companion. "It is ill-fitting for the Champion of the Crowned Beauty Queen to not greet his lord liege, is it not?"

Arthur eyes lit up in understanding and, humoring the princess, got on one knee and bowed in a knightly manner to the short girl. "Your Grace, forgive this humble servant leaving you unattended. I shall submit to any punishment you deem fit."

The girl, Arya, blushed again before her face set defiantly and smiled at him. "Come watch me in the Archery contest."

Arthur blinked. He had not entered that contest, but he did not know that the small girl had. Was she that skilled with a bow? His own skill with one was merely adequate. Seeing the hopeful expression on the girl he chuckled inwardly. "By your command, Lady Arya."

He could see the two older girls looking at each other but also the youngest one with fondness.

"Arya," the girl corrected him with a frown on her face. "Just Arya. I'm not a Lady."

"Arya the Just it is," Arthur teased and saw the girl blush again before glaring at him. "As My Lady commands."

Arthur stood back to his feet, towering over all three girls, being a head taller than Mordred, the tallest of the three. He turned to look at the two masseuses that had been with him earlier but found that they had left the tent. Clever.

"Well, I am also in the archery, as is Sansa here," Mordred pointed to the red hair girl who was looking around his tent curiously. Arya was also looking around and spotted his sword set placed by his little cot.

"I must say, you joust well. Where did you learn such skill?" Mordred asked casually but Arthur sensed there was something probing about the question. Sticking with his cover story he answered her.

"Essos, Your Grace. Many exiled knights make a living there or joined in mock tourney." He replied smoothly. "They are nowhere as skilled as those of Westeros stock, but they were adequate enough to get me started."

"So you are not a true knight then," Mordred confirmed with an arched look. She too moved around in the tent, looking at the Spartan accommodations.

"I am afraid not, just a warrior who heard about Westeros knights," Arthur evaded.

"So, you would be joining the melee?" Mordred inquire as she looked into his cup and held it to her nose to sniff it. "Hmm no ale?"

"Yes your grace and no. I do not care for ale when I compete," Arthur replied quickly, wanting the princess to leave his things alone, but the girl had no sense of propriety and just touched whatever she wanted. Arya was the same to a lesser extent as she looked at his weapons. The red head, Sansa, appeared to be the most respectful of the three.

"Good," Mordred smiled before she winked at him. "I too look forward if your skill with a blade is as good as your lance."

Arthur heard that Mordred styled herself as a warrior princess, but to participate in the mass melee, she must have been quite confident in her skills. He tipped his head in acknowledgment before Arya grabbed the pommel of his bastard sword and tried to lift it. The blade only went up half way before Arya stop and let it fall back to its original pace.

"Does your sword have a name?" Arya asked with a curious lithe to her voice as she faced him. "My brother Jon said that all good swords have a name."

"It does," Arthur acknowledged before he grabbed the bastard sword with ease and pulled it free from its scabbard. It made a sweet whistling noise as it was drawn before he stabbed it into the ground. "This is Irisviel."

Arthur could see Mordred and strangely enough, Sansa, looking at the blade as if they could determine its quality. It was well crafted to be sure, not like the valyrian steel he'd seen, but expertly made. It had served him well as a sellsword.

Arya however frowned and he could see the wheels turning in her head, hesitantly she made eye contact with him. "That sounds like a woman's name."

"That because it is a woman's name," Arthur smiled softly at the little girl who, to his amusement, went red in the face again.

"She must have been special for you to name such a sturdy blade after her," Sansa softly chimed in. That surprised Arthur as the girl had appeared content to have been regulated to the back ground.

"She was," Arthur sadly sighed. His failure, Saber failure in the grail war, was yet another black mark.

"You must have loved her then," Arya spoke up, her voice small and she appeared to have sensed his mood. He saw her expression changed of that to surprise when he laughed.

"Love? No, though she was my friend," Arthur smiled fondly at the blade. "She took care of me when her husband and I were... working together."

Images of the Fourth Holy Grail war flitted through his head at a break neck pace. Alexander, Diarmuid. Gilgamesh... Lancelot.

"Oh? So she was married?" Mordred's attention also seemed to have been on him. "That must have been awkward when she realized you named the sword after her."

"She's dead," Arthur corrected before looking at the sword again. "It was just me and her husband but... never mind, it's long past."

In the end Arturia was betrayed once more, by her own master no less. No reason, no explanation, just two commands that ended her hope at the time. Though, seeing as where he was now, maybe the grail did grant Arturia her wish after all.

"Do you have a sword with the husband name too?" Arya inquire, as her eyes were focused on him.

"Not a sword no, he doesn't deserve to have a sword named after him," Arthur intone darkly as he pulled out a dirk that was made of valyrian steel. It was a gift from the governor of Pentos when the Eagle's fought off the Dothraki raiders. "But he was not without skill, so I named this weapon after him. That way, husband and wife could be together."

"What's its name?" Arya was the first to ask as she marveled at the rippling patterns on the small weapon.

"Emiya Kiritsugu," Arthur replied and heard a sharp intake of breath from the red hair girl who was now looking at him with disbelieving eyes. Before he could ask her what was wrong, the loud blaring of the trumpet flooded the area, signaling the beginning of the Archery contest.

"I guess it's time," Mordred announced as she gave a nod to Arthur as she walked out of his tent. She had grabbed the red head with her. The red head kept glancing back at him but he shrugged, they could talk later.

Suddenly his hand was grabbed by two smaller ones and was surprise to see Arya still with him. "Remember, you promised to come."

"I cannot disobey your order, your grace," Arthur humored the little girl, who blushed red and ran out of the tent. The melee won't be for another hour, he could spare some time for the small girl.

+++ Arya+++

Unlike most men of the North, Arya refused to dropped out of the archery competition when her sister's name was announced. She would not back down now, not with the mysterious black knight, Arthur, watching her from behind the gallery stand.

The competition was simple, they all got into a line and lined up next to each other, with targets at twenty five yards in front of them. They only needed to strike the bullseye to move onto the next they missed they would be eliminated. The distance would gradually increase in increments of twenty five yards until there was a victor left standing. Arya best was at two hundred yard with her extremely focused.

Most of the Southerners laughed at her and her sister joining. They looked out of place among the various grizzled men as well as the various highborn and noble women.

She herself was sandwiched between her older sister and the princess. The princess appeared to actually be concentrating on the competition at hand, while her sister looked...off.

Arya could tell that something was affecting Sansa greatly, her sister looking dazed and every now and then, she could be seen looking at the gallery stand, toward Arthur.

For some reason, a bubble of jealously welled up in her as she released her arrow and struck the target at one hundred yards. There were polite clapping but when Arya glanced at her sister; she balled her fists in annoyance. Her sister loosed her arrow but her eyes were not on the target in front but rather on Arthur again. Yet, her sister's shot STILL struck true.

How could her sister be so good in archery?!

Was her sister after Arthur? Sansa was engaged though, yet, she knew that Arthur had shaken her sister somehow.

'By the old gods please don't let Sansa get this too, she gotten so many gift's already!'

Arya knew it was unkind and childish to think this way, but for the first time, someone looked at her and not her sister. She didn't realize how much she craved that attention until it appeared. There was Jon and her of course but, Jon was also close to Sansa. She loved Sansa for treating Jon as her true brother, even as her lady mother reinforced his bastard status to them over and over again.

It was one of the few times Arya had seen Sansa angry or argue with anyone. Her sister could not stand what she viewed as injustice. She was kind to all the bastards she met and treated them all as if they were trueborn. So for once, for this little moment, someone was exclusively hers, and she didn't want to part with it and lose to sister once more.

Because she knew that when compare to Sansa, she was outshone.

Thunk!

"Dammit," Princess Mordred spat out in disgust as her arrow missed the bulleye by a few spaces. With a resigned sigh, she turned to look at Arya. "Your sister makes it look so effortless."

"She's unbeatable with a bow in her hand," Arya grumbled but noted that the princess only shook her head ruefully.

"I believe it," Mordred said. After a few second as Sansa smoothly nocked an arrow and let it loose, not even taking a few second to aim.

Arya watched as the Princess, walked off toward her royal brothers and sisters. The King had not shown up but neither had the Queen. Surprisingly enough, Mordred requested the Kingsguard, Ser Jaime Lannister, to oversee their protection. The Kingsguard in question did not look too thrilled being there with them.

She then turned her attention to Arthur, the blond man with the pretty purple eyes. Blushing, she looked at her target, which was now one hundred and fifty yards away, and after five seconds of aiming, released her arrow and struck true.

Her heart soared when the mysterious knight, he's a knight as far as she's concerned, clapped his hands. Although there were some girls near him that were obviously trying to get his attention, he was ignoring them in favor of her. The smile was for her. She didn't care much about boys before other than being better than them, so why now? Why was her small heart pounding?

Any thoughts she might have was interrupted when her sister walked up near her and without even aiming, fire yet another arrow on target. The contestant next to her sister, a man with a banner from the Vale, appeared to be intimidated by her sister's skill as he stared at her in disbelief. He then proceeded to miss.

Her sister had that effect on people. Luckily, she grew up with her sister, so the 'fighting spirit' that her sister said everyone had, did not intimidate her in the least.

"Dad...," Sansa spoke up softly before her eyes turned to Arthur once more. Arya looked around for their father but did not see him. Shrugging her shoulders, she moved to the next marker.

Three more rounds later and it was just Sansa, a man from Essos, a Dothraki warrior, who had abandoned his life style and her. Arya missed badly at two hundred and fifty yards, the furthest she had ever made it, while her sister, yet again, made the shot. The Dothraki warrior missed the bulleyes by a hair's breath.

There was polite clapping, loud shouts in the case of the northmen who was there, as her sister was declared the winner. To her surprise, her sister appeared to set her face, the one she usually donned when she had determined a course of action and was walking toward Arthur.

Arthur cocked his head curiously as her sister approached when something odd happened.

The sky, which had been clear and sunny before, darken and rumbled. There was a loud thunder clap that startled the people and a weird sensation in the air that caused her skin to tingle even as torrential rain started pouring from the sky.

"Lady Arya! Lady Sansa! This way!" Her father's house guards had jumped over the railings, a heavy cloak in their hands as they shrouded her sister and her from the rain.

"Sansa," Arya muttered as she took her sister's hand. She had never seen a storm like this before. It was kind of frightening. Numerous forks of lighting speared through the darkening skies as if doing battle. Oddly most of all was her sister. Her sister seemed shaken as well.

The guards were too distracted by the rain, trying to keep her and her sister dry as they rushed to cover, but Arya saw Sansa hand dart out to the sword close to them and muttered something.

"Trace on..."

Her sister eyes widen before she took her hand off the sword scabbard. She wondered why her sister's face, which had been shaken before, looked puzzled and confused now.

As they entered the royal pavilion, Arya spared a glance back to see if Arthur made it out of the rain. To her surprise, she saw him standing in it as if basking, as he looked to the sky. To her surprise, Mordred appeared to be doing the same some distance away.

She wondered if it had anything to do with the weird humming in the air.

+++Volantis, Daenerys+++

The earliest memory Daenerys had was being on her brother's back as he carried her around after she had twisted her ankle. She remembered the warmth in his eyes as he picked her up and how he gently attended to her sprain ankle. She remembered him calling her a brave little dragon because she didn't cry.

This was when they were still living with Ser Williem Darry at the house with the red door.

The next was that of her brother training to fight under Ser Darry. She remembered when Ser Darry had told her that her brother was a natural born warrior, better than even Rhaegar. She remembered feeling so proud then because everyone knew her brother Rhaegar was the strongest and most handsome of all men in Westeros. Not even the Wolf maid, Lyanna Stark, was able to resist her oldest brother. At least that was how the story been told in Essos.

She remembered how she would only watch in awe as day after day, her brother trained until his hand bled and he was exhausted. Daenerys remember asking her brother why he trained so much. Why he would push himself and hurt himself to the point where it made her cry just seeing it. Ser Darry said they were royalty of the Targaryen line, so why didn't her brother just have people fight for him? She remembered confronting him about it, tears in her eyes, her heart hurt from the bloody sight of his body (Building up endurance he had said) and demanded he just get Kingsguard knights to fight for him. That he should not hurt himself anymore.

She remembered her pretty golden haired brother, looked at her with his gentle eyes as he took her hand and kissed the palm of her hand to soothe her. Her brother was just too perfect in her eyes. She remember being insistent to the point where her brother just sighed at her.

'Why should anyone fight for me, if I do not fight myself?'

The question confused her then because the answer had been so obvious to her, or so she thought.

'Because you are their king!'

That was the basis of her counter argument, even as young as she was. She was a princess, Ser Darry had always told her so, but he was her brother and that made him the king. Kings will have people fighting for them. It was a very sensible reasoning by her young mind.

'And just who gave us the right to be king sister?'

The question had stumped her. Weren't they always just kings? Who gives a king anything?

'But... you shouldn't have to train so hard to be king... You are always hurt...'

She fell back on her selfish desires, her younger mind not being able to grasp the intricacies of leadership. Her brother though, even at that age, had.

'Sister, I am not training so that I can be king.'

The why was he training? It made her sad to see him come home bloodied and bruised. Why? Didn't he understand that it broke her heart to see it?

'Then why are you?'

She wanted to know.

'I need to be strong enough to protect you my precious little dragon.'

And with those words, her fate was tied to that of her brothers. He was doing it for her, all the blood, the bruises, the exhaustion; it was all for her. Ser Darry protected her because that was his duty, he told her so. He was bound by his knightly oath.

Her brother had no such thing. She remembered seeing her brother, really seeing him for the first time, as a girl sees a boy. He had been young and she even younger, always a five year difference. Yet in that moment, all the stories that Ser Darry had let her know about her family came rush through her mind. She was going to marry him. He was going to be a king and she his queen. They were Targaryen, it was the way things were done.

It was not long after she made up mind on being her brother's bride that Ser Darry died. She remembered the servants had run off with Ser Darry's money and valuables. She had been scared, so very scared. She did not know what to do but her brother did. He had gathered the most valuable items still left in their possession and fled the city at the time.

The days where they were on the road trying to survive were too numerous to count, yet, somehow, someway, her brother always managed to find something for her to eat. In her later years, she recalled that her brother had always watched her eat, but rarely did she remember him sharing a meal with her.

Eventually, they found farm land, and to her surprise, her brother became a farmer to earn a living for them. She hated that farm. It was the first time she realized other women were eyeing her brother. Slattern of all ages saw how beautiful her brother was and wanted him for themselves.

'Filthy whores.'

The worst part was when they tried to pretend to be nice to her so that he would pay more attention to them. Thankfully her brother had only prepared polite courtesy. Unfortunately, that only seemed to spur the local women folk on, both older and younger. Even girls her age!

'Stupid sluts.'

She had never been so glad the night she flowered. She had panicked, she had been afraid, she thought she was dying. She had screamed for her brother, and her lovely brother had rushed into her room within moments. His eyes were alert, his sword in hand ready to strike down their enemies. It was then her brother noticed her blood stains. To her everlasting embarrassment, her brother had calmly taken her aside and helped her clean up.

'You are quite young to have this happen but it's not impossible.'

She had blushed furiously as he explained to her what a woman body does and from now on, every month this condition would happen to her. How did her brother know so much about a woman's body? How could he? She had kept an eye on him and he had never given any girl a second glance. His eyes were only for her. His answer had just been a mysterious smile but the fact of the matter was it came down to one thing.

'Your body is telling you it's ready to carry a child.'

That made her a woman; she was no longer a little girl and she had been determined to continue the Targaryen tradition. She would carry her brother's child. They would have many children, though she did hope that they had an even number of boys and girls.

She wouldn't want any of them to become lonely.

Unfortunately, her...overtures, on him did not go well. He was stubborn, too noble, and refused to claim her. Then he made her angry at him, something she hadn't been in a long time. He tried to find her a husband. She had been so furious with him! She yelled at him and slapped him but he simply endured her temper tantrum, never losing patience with her.

To this day, she thanked the assassins that came for them in the night. It had been scary, yes, but when they made their escape, she realized why they were found. A brother and sister living together, as they had been, stood out from the couples of husband and wife, making them easy to find. It was an idea she latched onto but she couldn't suggest it to her brother right away. She needed to soften him up first, so she cried. She cried and cried, until her eyes were an ugly red. Then she pretended to shiver and shudder. It took a while but eventually her brother never left her side.

When they got to the next city, Tyrosh, with her still pretending to be afraid (It was a hard thing because her brother could protect her from anything) she brought up how the assassins would look for a white haired sister, and golden haired brother. They do not marry their brothers and sisters in Essos. A white haired wife and a golden haired husband was common. She had used all of her most fearful looks, and 'promised' him that when she felt that she was safe, when they were safe, she would seek out a husband worthy of her. That had done it for her brother. Up to that point she had always resisted the idea of a husband other than her brother. She felt a bit guilty for lying to her brother but, it was for his own good.

She convinced him that if they had to pretend they should make it as realistic as possible. Once they were safe, they could annul their marriage. Her brother had been against it so then she cried and pretended to have nightmares until he had caved to her suggestion.

So before the gods and officials of the city, she officially married her brother. It was under a new name perhaps but still, they were married! Then her brother became a sellsword. She had been worried at first.

'Don't you dare make me a widow bro-husband!'

'….'

But evidently, her brother's training had paid off. Now, they had their own private army that had all but bent knee to her brother and their coffers were overflowing. The older her brother grew, the more his powerful charisma charmed even the most hardened of allies. She had a feeling when they go back to Westeros, the Eagle's Brood, would be following him. They had fought for the honor of being his elite guards on his mission to avenge their niece and nephew.

Her brother was a king; no he deserved to be a king. She would do anything to help him realize that dream if he asked it of her.

She found herself now musing on the past with him gone for so long. Their house, despite being guarded by Unsullied, still felt empty without his presence to fill it. Even the Unsullied missed the master of the house despite being eunuchs. It a windy night, a storm was going to brew soon. Closing the book she had even intention to read but just never focused on, she called for her servant to prepare a bath for her.

"Mena?" Daenerys called out loud.

Curiously, she stepped out into the hall way, for some reason, she began to feel a slight sense of trepidation.

"Mena? Rosoc?" she called again, hoping her maid or the Unsullied guard would answer her.

It was when she turned the corner in her home that she saw it, Rosco, the captain of her bodyguards, throat was slit, the pool of blood looked fresh.

"Guar-?!" Daenerys began to shout until she felt shadows in the room with her.

"Well, well, well, this is Arthur Pendra's wife eh? Not bad, not bad at all," a sinister voice called from the dark.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Daenerys demanded of the cloaked men, she pulled her shift closer to her to prevent them from leering at her.

"We are Sand Scorpions, and we owe the Eagle's and Arthur for humiliating our company." the leader of the cloaked men declared.

Daenerys laughed suddenly as she realized with some irony that it was not Baratheon daggers that would do her in but Arthur's enemy. The Sand Scorpions were the top mercenary company in Volantis and had double the men the Eagles had as well standing well over eight thousand. Yet, under Arthur's leadership, the Sand Scorpions decided to teach the nobles of Volantis a lesson by siding with their enemy, another mercenary company hired from a rival city.

When something like that happened, usually the city pay a higher amount or buy a stronger mercenary company to take care of the problem. The city of Volantis had wanted the Golden Company, the top mercenary company to take care of the problem. But they had been contracted elsewhere, and the Golden Company never leaves a contract unfinished.

Panicked, they hired smaller mercenary companies to repel the invaders but most of the top ones were gone from the city, doing other jobs. Only the mid – to low company remained. As an army of twenty thousand mercenaries matched onto their cities holdings, the invaders found in their way another company. One that the city had not being paid for. It had been the Eagle's Brood and a dozen other smaller companies.

The Sand Scorpions had been destroyed by her brother, even outnumbered two to one as they were. To hear of anyone speak about the battle, they would say her brother won it all by himself. Yet her brother did not care, she knew, he only did what was right. He only did it to protect her and their home.

Daenerys spit at the feet of her attacker and drew herself to her full height. "Arthur will hunt you down and kill you all with the rest of the Eagles. You are all dead men; you just don't know it yet."

"The Eagles are busy fighting off incursion all over the city," the cloaked man replied with dark chuckle. "I am going to send you back to Arthur in pieces."

Daenerys wasn't prepared to fight, having never been able to keep up with her brother training. However, before she could do anything her missing maid jumped on the leader and slit his throat in a swift motion. Then everything happened fast.

Someone grabbed her hair, she struggle, her maid struggled. Someone knocked the candle on the ground. It rolled to the curtains lighting up a large pyre. Two of her Unsullied guard, she thought they had all died, came in and a fight started. Fire began to catch everywhere as the ringing of steel echo in her once peaceful household. She was running from a man that was after her in the flaming hall ways. She ran to her room. The fire spread quicker than anticipated, her windows aflame. The dragon eggs the merchant master, Illyrio, gave were right there on her bed but so was the short sword her brother gave her. Picking it up, she turned around and stabbed blindly and was rewarded by the surprised look on the man face as she ran him through.

Fire was everywhere now. She could see no way out now, fire had brought down the building interior. She clutched her eggs only to have a wooden beam fall onto her trapping her as more fire danced around her. She struggle for a moment but found herself unable to free herself. As she lay trapped under the beam, she thought of her brother, and silently apologized for the pain that her death would cause.

TBC...

AN: And the wells keep on falling off! Burning off the treads now! Vroom Vroom!

UP Next: Ten Ways to Break down a Mountain.

So, I figure I take the time out to thank UN and Icura for helping me bounce idea back and forth ^_^. For those unfamiliar with Game of Thrones. Robert started a war over Ned sister Lyanna. Lyanna was Crowned Queen of Love and beauty by Rhaeger over his own wife and queen, Elia. That caused some controversy. After that, Rhaegar stole Lyanna away and ware happened.

Last chapter, I parallel that for the lulz and have Arthur (Targaryen Prince) Crown Arya (Star Wild girl who is said to look like Lyanna) Queen of Love and Beauty. Arthur is technically officially married to boot. But like I say, I do it for the Shenanigans!

I am not sure what I qualified Daenerys as, Kuudere, Yandere or Tsun tsun. Arya is a tom boy, sansa-shirou is elegant? Mordred is tomboyish, and there are others incoming for the lulz.

SO yes, I named Emiya Kiristugu on a short stabbing weapon mainly used by back stabbers. That's right. Saber hated the man but she liked Irisviel so had a match set.

I am surprise I actually have plot but oh well, Plot and Funnies. Let's do it!

Thanks for those that reviewed, you guys rocks.

The Archery part wasn't really that popular as part of the tourney that's why the prize money was less, not like the melee or jousting. So that's why it was a more subdued affair. And yes Mordred will forever cock block Cersei and Jaime since Jon Arry died.

On MAGIC: When the last Dragon died, was when Magic left the world. When they were reborn in game of thrones, that was when magic start returning to the world.

As always C+C welcome, reviews appreciated.