act i . chapter x

DISHONORABLE HONOR
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THE MORNING AIR WAS CHILL and crisp. The sky was pale blue and cloudless. The the grass was freshly cut and the two rows were freshly plowed and ready for the first joust of the day. Lyanna made her way to the stands with Ned and Benjen. They were to be seated just below the grandstand with all the other great lords and ladies of Westeros.

The loud chatter of the crowd and the neighing of horses with all the different smells was a new experience for Lyanna. She had never been to a tournament. Neither had Brandon or Benjen. Ned, being fostered in the Vale, was a common attendee of these sort of events. Though attendee was never the word he used. More like a hostage. At first, Lyanna felt like a hostage, but she was beginning to have fun. There were all types of sweets that they didn't have in Winterfell. There were so many different types of people to talk to and get to know. People with hair the color of solid gold or white as milk. Olive skin or sun-kissed cheeks. The different houses were much more interesting than seeing the same five banners all day long.

She even met a Greyjoy from Pyke. He told her tales of the Kraken that used to rule the seas and tear down their ships. There were even people for across the Narrow Sea from the Free Cities. She talked to a brothel keeper from Tyrosh. He had a green beard and a perplexing personality. He even offered to take her back home with him. Lyanna was surprised, to say the least. She told him that her Ladyship status wouldn't allow it. Of course, Lyanna wouldn't have gone whether she was a lady or not.

But one thing about this tournament that she couldn't seem to get off her mind was the Crown Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen. She had made sure to speak to anyone she thought was interesting. The Tyroshi brothel keeper. The third son of Greyjoy. A bard from Pentos. A goat keeper from the Vale. The Reach's Kennelmaster. But she could not find Prince Rhaegar. And even if she did, she was sure that there was no way she would have the courage to speak to him. Even if she did, would he, a prince bother with a woman?

She just found him so intriguing. The silver hair and purple eye was something she had never seen before. All his many talents jammed into one man who was set to rule them. He had so many friends and so much to do. It confused her that he always seemed so sad. Every time he showed his face it was like he had just heard the news that his mother died. And she was sure that hadn't happened. He only showed his face to make an appearance. He never stayed.

He had to make an appearance now. He was the first joust of the morning with some Westerlands knight, Lyanna didn't know the name of. The first and second day's jousts were only attended out of courtesy. The better knights will weed out the worst and then the real jousting would begin. The type that people want to see.

As Lyanna stepped up into the stands to sit next to Brandon and the heir to the Vale, Elbert Arryn, Robert came up and sat next to them instead. Lyanna scowled, she didn't want to sit near him. The very sight of the brutish man made her stomach churn. She turned to Ned. "Can we go anywhere else?"

Benjen shrugged and continued to sit next to Elbert. Ned froze up, not knowing what to say. Why would he not sit with his friends? Why did Lyanna even ask that sort of thing? "You can go sit with the ladies," he said with a slight cringe, pouting to where all the daughters of Great Ladies were flocked around the golden-haired and golden adorned, Cersei Lannister and her bursting lioness pride. Lyanna grimaced.

"I'm not one for worshipping rubbish," she commented, rolling her eyes. From anyone else, Ned would have been perplexed by the absurdity and boldness of the statement, but from Lyanna, it was expected. "LYANNA!" Robert boomed jovially from across the stands. "Come over here, love!"

Lyanna's nostrils flared as the anger in her soul shot up through her gut. How embarrassing was it to hear her name bellowed over a crowd of people as if she were a hound. She had to do her duty as a Stark, nevertheless. Lyanna put on a smile, gathered up her skirts and went to sit next to her beloved Robert.

"Good morning, Lord Baratheon," Lyanna greeted with forced cheer. Something Lord Elbert said prompted Robert to laughed his ghastly, booming laugh as Lyanna sat down. As the large man wheezed, he pressed a large part to Lyanna's back, not caring a bit that she was a woman. The slap stung, though it was good natured. Lyanna hid her cringe. Ned gave her a look as she glared up at him that said he was sorry.

"You hear that Lyanna?" he asked loudly, his eyes in a craze. "Little Lord Walter Whent Jr is up against the Prince! The poor boy's the bloody smallest. Good thing the sisters got the other boys to protect her title. What luck did he get drawing the Dragon Prince?"

"At least you did not draw him, my lord," Lyanna said stiffly. Robert's loose, heavy shoulders tensed as he sat a little straighter.

"Have faith in me, love. I'll put Rhaegar Targaryen in the dirt," he promised surely. Lyanna was sure he wouldn't win a joust again the prince from all the tales of past jousts, but for some reason, the statement sat heavily in the air around them.

"You shouldn't say a threat like that about our Crown Prince," said Lyanna dryly. Robert's laughter boomed again as he stroked Lyanna's face. She wanted to throw up. His course sausage fingers disgusted her.

"You hear that Ned? You sister's looking out for me. She truly is a good one." Then he turned to Lyanna. "I only mean I'm going to win the joust. I'm not going to kill the man."

She had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes and smarting off. No, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. "I'm not stupid, Robert. I know what you meant. You still shouldn't make dry threats about the prince, rhetorical or not. Don't you know what condition his father is in?"

She didn't regret saying what she did. It didn't weight much, but when talking to Robert, words have to be light enough to sit on wet paper. Robert only stared at Lyanna in surprise and slight anger. She stared straight back at him. He didn't say anything, just grimacing out to the lists.

At that moment, the horn blew high-pitched and strong. With that, two mounted figures entered on the closest side of the tilt. On the right, was a knight of small stature. He rode a large red destrier that was digging its foot readily into the ground. On the left was Rhaegar Targaryen. His silver hair peeked out of the bottom of his dragon helm. His silver plated armor shone in the daylight, but the shine was nothing compared to the ruby dragon sigil on his chest. Rhaegar was long and lean atop his silver-white mare that he rode into Harrenhal on.

The small horse and tall man came nearly even with the small man and tall horse. Rhaegar swung his strong leg over his horse, his boots sinking into the freshly plowed earth as he stepped toward the grandstand and fell to his knees before the king, as were the rules. He pulled off his helmet and placed it in the dirt. The other knight did the same.

Sweat shined on Rhaegar's forehead from the jousting preparation. He bowed his head to his father and somehow, Lyanna saw the deep sadness in him that she had seen before. "Begin the joust, sers," King Aerys said with a wave of his hand. Rhaegar stood up to face Ser Walter Jr. He nodded to him a shook his hand. The young knight was intimidating but the prince.

The crowd cheered as they mounted their horses. In the grandstand, Ser Arthur Dayne held up Rhaegar's daughter above his head and grabbed Princess Elia's hand. "We love you, Prince!" he cried out far louder than the crowd. Rhaenys jumped in Ser Arthur's hands excitedly toward her father calling out "dada" and further babbling. Elia only smiled, embarrassed.

Lyanna watched as Rhaegar flashed a pretty smile up to his wife and excitable daughter and best friend. He then promptly put his helm on and trotted to the end of the tilt. They were each handed their lances and sat in wait for the horn. When the familiar buh-buh-buh-dahhh! sounded through the air, everyone seemed to stiffen. Lyanna focused on the prince as he began to usher his silver forward.

She was awed by the way he handled the mare. It looked as though they had a close bond. She had heard her father tell Brandon that jousting was all in the horse and how well the rider can handle it. That strength and armor had nothing to do with it. By looking at Rhaegar and his opponent, Lyanna could tell that even if horsemanship had nothing to do with the victor, Rhaegar would still prove superior.

Ser Whent bent into the lance, raising his shoulder to protect his neck in fear. Rhaegar, on the other hand, sat up straight, holding his lance forward, his horse not even at full speed. When they met at the middle, Rhaegar wrenched the young knight's lance away and hitting him on the chest with the side of his lance, pushing him to the ground, winning the joust with ease. Lyanna thought it was too easy.

"Poor lad," Robert muttered. "Bastard was barely tapped by the end of that stick.

"Ned!" a woman's voice called from above and behind them. The grandstand? Lyanna turned to look at Ned who didn't hear. "Ned!" Lyanna bumped him. He snapped back into reality and turned to respond to the voice. Lyanna, being her nosy self, looked for the voice. Ned knew exactly where and who it was from, so she just followed his eyes. He was looking at one of the handmaidens of Princess Elia. The one he was dancing with at the feast. "Come up here with me, Ned," she called out. "Just for a while."

Ned was immediately embarrassed. He looked around and looked back to the handmaiden. "I don't think we should..." his voice faded off. The woman just smiled and shook her head. "Just come up here." Lyanna had never seen Ned smile the way he did when he stood up went to sit with the dornishwoman. "Ned, don't leave me here alone," Lyanna begged

The smile fell off his face as he looked to Lyanna. But the woman called his name again and it returned in a flash, his whole body noticeably happier. "Sorry, Lya," he said truly as he left to sit with the woman. Lyanna wasn't even mad. The way Ned smiled make Lyanna happy. That was until she had to look at Robert again.

The first day's jousts were slow and boring. Most of them were like Prince Rhaegar vs. Ser Walter. Robert won his joust just as easily, only wit lass class and far more boasting. Ned told her that Robert never usually participated in the jousting. Only the melee. But how could he not with these prizes? All the Lords needed this money. That's why Brandon rode too.

Brandon won his joust easily too. Rather than the forgiving and fair nature of Rhaegar, Brandon was cold and intimidating. He wasn't disrespectful, but Lyanna felt that he could have been a bit nicer.

She thought that she may die of boredom. Ned was sitting and laughing and eating with Elia's handmaiden. Benjen was goofing off with Elbert and Howland. Brandon was helping William Dustin prepare for his joust, Robert drinking after his, and all the Great Ladies were either sitting with their older husbands watching the tournament or flocking around Cersei Lannister like a flock of pigeons.

Lyanna wished she could go up to the grandstand with Ned. Or that she could to the lower levels of the stands and sit with her friends like Howland or Barbrey. Soon enough, Robert came back, reeking of drink. He made a few suggestive comments before the next joust, but when Ser Barristan the Bold and Willem Dustin emerged from opposite ends of the tilt.

"Ah, now see there, Lyanna!" Robert slurred heartily. "This should be a good one." Lyanna had to agree with him. Willie was a true northerner. Strong as a bull and as good a horse rider and anyone. He would put up a fight against the famous knight. Lyanna was also disappointed. William deserved to make it to the next round. It was shit luck that he drew Barristan Selmy.

After they had made their bows to the king and rode to the end of the tilt, Lyanna heard Brandon's heavy steps approach. Apprehensively, he sat next to Lyanna. He was watching Willem nervously. "He deserves to make it to the second round," he said, basically reading Lyanna's mind. "I was just thinking that," she told her brother. He shook his head, hopeful and scared for his best friend.

"Shit luck is what it that Willie drew one of the guaranteed finalists," he added, again reading Lyanna's mind. She smiled a bit. "I swear that the Gods gave us the same mind." Brandon smiled and nudged his little sister who was nearly half his size. "Father talks about wolf's blood like religion," he noted.

"It's why the both of you are so pissy to the other all the damned time," Robert noted from Lyanna's other side drunkenly. "You're the same damned person."

Brandon smiled slightly as Ser Barristan and Willem spurred their steeds and urged down the freshly plowed land. Lyanna whispered a small prayer for Willem ignoring the fact that the old gods were eradicated in this area. Willie held his lance at Ser Barristan, waiting for him to meet it. Selmy did the same. When they rode past each other, Willem ducked Ser Barristan's lance and missed him with his.

Brandon grimaced. "He's putting up a fair fight eh, Lyanna? Maybe he'll win."

"Not a chance," Robert chimed in. "Ole Barristan's a true knight, that's what he is."

And on their second run, Barristan hit Willem hard. Everyone thought he'd come off his horse, but he went another round, hitting Ser Barristan who stayed mounted. When they came back a fourth, they struggled so hard against each other that the horses pulled to a fighting stop. At the end of their struggle, the man who remained mounted was Ser Barristan. The crowd cheered wildly.

Robert's boomed laugher raged. "Now Brandon. Not the second round. That bloke surely deserves to make it to the finals," he said. Brandon nodded sadly. Lyanna stopped listening. The squire of House Heigh was riding against another smaller knight. Lyanna watched in a blind rage as the pitchfork squire unhorsed his opponent. Not only that, but next rode the House Blount squire. Then the Frey squire.

All three of the rode and won their jousts back to back. And Lyanna was furious. How dare they win that honor that in no way do they deserve. Howland deserved that. She stood up to go take care of the matter. "Lyanna!" Robert called. "Where are you going?" Brandon listened for her response too.

"I need some air," she told them simply, not caring if they believed her or not. She began to think frantically until finally, an idea came into her mind. A terrible idea, really. She needed to find Benjen. And armor. After all, Brandon did say that jousting was all in the rider, not the lance.