6

Summary:

The Celebrations are in Full swing and all enjoy the largess of the King while the wild wolf indulges in more base pleasures

Notes:

Come on leave a comment you beautiful readers

Chapter Text

Tonight's feast was in full swing; lords were drinking and talking, music was playing, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, especially the king. Jon's father was sitting right next to the king as he did the night before, and he put on a smile, but she could see he was not genuine. She had heard tales of Lord Eddard Stark and what kind of a man he was; he was similar to Jon but more serious, which he had to be considering his new position and everything the poor man went through during his early life. She truly felt pity for Jon's father; he had lost his father, brother, and sister during that war, not something that any man should experience. Comparing Jon with his father, there were apparent similarities in looks and personality-wise; both had dark grey eyes, long face, dark brown hair, both seemed to be fair and extremely honourable, even more so than the lords of the Reach or the Vale.

The queen seemed to be unamused, just like the last time, and the prince too. She looked at the two Stark girls sitting next to their father; during the short time she spent with Jon's sisters, she noticed that they were complete opposites of each other. The older one was more ladylike and more than a bit naive to the world's true ways, while the younger one was wilder and more like Jon in some respects; she liked them both. As she turned her gaze from the high table to look around once more, she noticed several more lords from the Stormlands, Riverlands, and even the North had arrived. The number of Northerners was small, but they had their table, and they looked like they were having a good time. The people around their table were the same as yesterday, with only new faces being Lords Sloane and Orme.

As she continued to look around, she also noticed several noble ladies looking in their direction, more specifically at Jon. She knew that look well, and she found it a bit amusing that they thought they had a chance at getting him. She turned her gaze towards Jon and her brother. Jon and Loras were their typical selves going around and talking and having fun with everyone they could, from people at their table to the Stormlanders. They were sitting at their table when Jon looked over Loras and stared behind him for a long moment.

"What is so interesting that you are looking?" asked Loras.

"The people at that table over there and Northmen," replied Jon. She and Loras turned to look at the table, there weren't many of them, but they sure knew how to get people's attention; they were almost as loud as the music.

"You know them?" she asked.

"Aye, I do," answered Jon. "The man over there is Torrhen Karstark, second son of Lord Rickard Karstark, the man next to him is Halys Hornwood, the man sitting at the end is Leobald Tallhart. The large man is Smalljon Umber, and the woman next to him is Dacey Mormont."

"Smalljon? That man looks like he is a giant," said Garlan.

"The Umbers are like that; they have giants blood flowing through their veins."

"Giants are nothing more than a myth," said Loras.

"And what do you know about the North and what's beyond the wall?" asked Jon raising an eyebrow at him.

"I know what's real and what is not; the Umbers are big, so what?"

"You won't be saying that once he hits you in the head," said Jon.

"So, the woman is lady Dacey Mormont?" she asked.

"Aye, I remember her and her mother coming to Winterfell when I was a boy; she was always nice to me," Jon said with a smile. "She will probably be fighting in the tourney."

"A woman fighting in a tourney?" asked Loras surprised.

"Yes, so what about it?" asked Jon.

"A tourney is no place for a lady."

"I think you will find out northern women aren't like ones from the Reach," Jon said with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked one of the Reach Lords.

"It means that Dacey Mormont is as deadly with a mace as she is beautiful in a dress," replied Jon.

"You are right about one of those things," said Richard Orme as he looked at the northern woman. Margaery had to give it to her. She really was beautiful, and if what Jon said was right, she was also deadly. She knew little about ladies of the North, she was told a few things by Jon, but she always thought they were just like southern ladies; it looks like she was wrong.

"Well, I'm going to say hello, my fellow Northmen. Does anyone want to accompany me? Loras? Garlan? Mira?"

"Yes, I will go," said Mira.

"So, will I" answered Loras.

"I wish to meet other people from the North as well," said Margaery. As their small group made their way to the northern table, she could feel her grandmother's eyes watching her. When they were a few meters from the table, the people turned around to look at them. The large man stood up and took a step towards Jon. He and Jon just stood there looking at each other in the eyes for a moment, both having severe expressions on their faces. She, Loras, and Mira stood behind Jon and silently watched the two, not knowing what to expect. Then out of nowhere, the large man burst out laughing and grabbed Jon and brought him into a tight embrace lifting him off the ground.

"Jon Snow!" the man said, laughing. "The last time I saw you, Lad, you were up to my knee."

"Well, it seems not much has changed then," replied Jon, and the man laughed even louder, and soon the other Northmen started laughing as well. Moments later, the Umber put Jon back to the ground.

"It's good to see you again, lad."

"You as well, Smalljon." then Jon looked at the people at the table "Lord Karstark, lord Hornwood, lord Tallhart, lady Mormont it's a pleasure to see you again."

"You too, Jon." said the group.

"Let me introduce you to lady Margaery Tyrell, ser Loras Tyrell, and some of you probably know Mira Forrester, lord Gregor's daughter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." said lady Dacey with a soft smile on her face.

"Aye, same here." said the Karstark.

"Please, the pleasure is all mine," replied Margaery as she did a curtsy.

"It is an honour to meet other of Jon's countryman," said Loras.

"Enough standing around, come sit with us," said Smalljon in a booming voice, and so they did.

"Long time was passed since we last saw each other, Jon," said Dacey with a smile.

"Indeed, it has Dacey, the last time we saw each other was on Robbs eight name day."

"Aye, I still remember your father's reaction to seeing Robb covered in cake from head to toe."

She looked at Jon with a questioned look. "What did you do to your poor brother?"

Jon chuckled. "I nothing, Dacey here was playing with Sansa, Sansa got a bit too excited and somehow by accident knocked the cake on Robb while he was standing right in front of it. We never heard our father laugh so hard until that day."

"So, your good little sister was a trouble maker when she was smaller, just like Arya," Margaery said.

"A bit, but it seems that Arya is on a whole other level compared to Sansa. Father says she is more like our aunt Lyanna than him. Lady Catelyn disapproves of her behaviour, and the same can be said for the septa."

"A little she-wolf," said Dacey.

"Aye."

"I heard that people call you the Wolf of the south." said the Karstark.

"They do; it originally started as a jape by some of the Reach knights I competed against, but it soon spread, and I kind of took it as a title."

"Well, in that case, here is for the wolves." said the Hornwood and lifted his cup. "To wolves!"

Other Northmen lifted their drinks and shouted, "To wolves!" and quickly drank the contents of their cups. She looked at Jon holding a cup of wine, which Smalljon gave him, a large smile on his face.

It seemed like where ever they go people always seemed to be like this around Jon, he was naturally charismatic, kind of like Loras, but without the arrogance, people still flocked to him; countless times, men that lost to him in the tourneys would be found later sitting with him in some tavern acting as if he was their oldest friend. Loras was courteous too, but Jon just seemed to be better liked by the people, even if he was a bastard. The only ones who are always reluctant to be around him at the start are the knights of the Vale or River lords, but even they loosen up once they get to know him a bit. Seeing the Northmen not behave towards Jon as an outcast but as a trueborn son of their liege lord brought a smile to her lips. She enjoyed seeing him happy and not thinking of himself as a disgrace because he was not one.

"So, you come for the tourney?" she asked the northerners.

"Aye, we do, my lady, and with a bit of luck, we will be the winners," said Smalljon.

"I, Smalljon, Dacey, and Leobald will be participating." said the Karstark.

She looked at lady Dacey. "You will really be fighting in the tourney, my lady?" she asked, stunned.

"Aye, I will; I look forward to seeing what the south has to offer," said Dacey.

"By the looks of it, not much," said Small Jon with a loud laugh.

"I never thought I would see I lady fighting anywhere, let alone in a tourney. The North sure is different from the Reach," said Margaery.

"Aye, they are," said Jon.

"To the North!" shouted Small Jon as he lifted his cup.

"To the North!" the other Northmen replied, including Jon.

Loras

As they sat with the Northmen, he found them more and more to his liking. They were like Jon; they were honest, quick to laugh, and fun to be around, especially Smalljon, the man always seemed to have a good jape or a fun tale to tell. Now they were all listening about the time when he and Dacey went to the celebration that lord Manderly threw three years ago. He spoke about the feast, and during it, he got into a fight with a Flint only to awake in the morning almost naked in the harbour hugging a roasted dear leg.

Dacey explained that during the fight, he grabbed a deer leg and used it as a club against Mores Flint; the fight ended several minutes later when Smalljon hit Flint on the head and sent him flying several meters back before falling to the floor. For the rest of the night, he carried the leg as if it was his family's ancestral weapon.

"No one tried to stop the fight?" asked Margaery, surprised.

"Why would they, it was fun to watch, and some of us there even took bets on who is going to win." said the Karstark with a small laugh.

"But how did you end up in the harbour?" he asked.

"I'm honestly not so sure either; I like to believe that be beautiful maiden took me there," said Small Jon as he looked at Dacey.

Dacey laughed. "Only in your dreams Jon."

"Better there than nowhere." the Umber said, to which Dacey replied by giving him a strong punch in the shoulder.

As they continued to talk, he noticed Margaery looking at Dacey; he knew that look; it was one of fascination. To be honest, he was fascinated by her as well. All the ladies he met were typical noble ladies you would find anywhere, but if what Jon said was true, Dacey Mormont was anything but ordinary. He was a bit excited by the possibility of fighting her in the melee. "I will go easy on her." he thought.

The sound of lord Hornwoods voice was suddenly interrupted by the voice of the herald.

"Lord Randyll Tarly, Samwell Tarly, and Dickon Tarly!" the herald announced the new arrivals as they entered the great hall. He watched as Lord Tarly entered, his younger son right next to him with the older one behind them. The Lord had his usual disinterested expression on his face. Randyll Tarly was a loyal bannermen to his family, but he personally found the man to be a bore. He was a skilled soldier, that was true, but the man really did not know how to have fun or take joy in anything that was not war-related. His younger son was somewhat like him but not as a hard case, but his older son was altogether another story. Samwell is fond of music and songs and prefers books over weapons, he is also brilliant, but his father refuses to acknowledge it because it is not war-related. As the Tyrell passed their table, Jon got up and walked towards Samwell.

"Sam!" said Jon with his arms outstretched.

"H-Hello Jon," replied Samwell.

"It's good to see you again, Sam," Jon said as he embraced Samwell.

"Y-You too." The two of them became friends five years ago when their father threw a ball and a feast in their mother's name. Lord Tarly arrived with his wife and sons as all other nobles did. Sam was kept to the side mostly by his lord father until Jon approached him and started talking to him. Little by little, Jon warmed up to Sam, and for the next few days, he, Jon, and Sam went everywhere together. Samwell was sad when his family had to leave, but Jon promised that they would see each other again, and it was true. The Tarlys came to the next several celebrations his family threw, and Sam spent even more time with them, even Margaery and Willas. Willas seemed to get along with Sam perfectly, probably in no small part because they were both men of knowledge. Sometime after that, he and Margaery asked their father if Sam could spend some time with them at Highgarden, to which he agreed and made the request fromLordd Tarly, who reluctantly agreed. Over the years, they all became good friends with Sam.

"Samwell, quit standing there and come here," ordered Lord Tarly. Sam turned to look at his father with worried eyes.

"It's alright, Lord Tarly, Sam will." Jon was cut off by the Lord.

"I said," lord Tarly started in a slightly annoyed tone, and that was when he decided to intervene.

"Lord Tarly!" he said as he got up from the table and started walking towards him.

"Ser Loras." replied the Lord with a nod.

"I'm sure my father would like you to sit at his table; you can leave Sam in our hands. He will be safe, I assure you," he said with a soft smirk. TheLordd did not say a word. He only looked at his son and Jon and continued on his way to the Reach table.

"Thank you," said Sam.

"No need for that, Sam," said Jon.

"Come to Samwell, sit with us," he said, and the three of them walked to the northern table and sat down. Jon introduced Sam, and the people greeted him fondly.

Olenna

She carefully watched the bastard and his little group of north men that sat with her granddaughter and grandson. She disliked the fact that her precious rose was mingling with those northern savages. Just giving them one look is enough to see them as what they are, but her grandchildren seemed to follow the bastard around like lost puppies. Everywhere he went, Loras would shadow him, Margaery too. The worst thing about it all was that she still had to formulate a good enough plan to get rid of the bastard safely. She knew she could not just outright kill the boy. That would be too suspicious, and the fact that the fat stag was obsessed with the Starks did not help either. If even a hint of her involvement reached Robert, she knew her house would be done for, Robert might have pardoned them after the war, but she knew that if anything was to happen to any of the Starks, he would immediately start a war. Soon, the dancing began, and her granddaughter got up from that accursed table and walked back to theirs. Shortly after that, the prince arrived and offered her a dance, which she accepted. Seeing her granddaughter dance with the crown prince brought a small smile to her face. Margaery will make a good queen someday; she will make sure of that.

As the dancing continued, she turned her attention to the bastard who was looking at Margaery over his shoulder. She scoffed at the thought of him being with her granddaughter; she was the golden rose of Highgarden, not some tavern wench.

"Be careful grandmother, your eyes might fall out if you stare at the Jon any longer," said Garlan.

"Do stay quite Garlan, this is not your business." She said in a scolding tone as she continued to watch the bastard.

"Mother is everything alright?" asked Mace.

"Yes, Yes, Mace, just shut up." She started looking around the room to see if there was anything interesting. The high table was the same as yesterday; other tables were pretty much the same with maybe a few additions, but what caught her eyes was seeing how certain young ladies looked at the bastard. She knew that look all too well; after all, she was a young maiden once. A plan started formulating in her head, if she got one of those girls to seduce the bastard, she would have what she needs to end the relationship between Margaery and that bastard. All she needed to do now was find the right one and push her on the right path. She looked at the Lannister table and saw Payne and a Brax girl looking at the northern table. "Maybe:" she thought. She continued looking around. She noticed a Cole, Bolling, Hasty, Piper, Haight, Blackwood, Waynwood, Hunter, and more girls looking at him. All were possible candidates, most of them were pretty enough, but she needed someone he might be genuinely interested in. She will wait patiently and see what will happen, he will slip up eventually, and when he does, she will have what she needs to set her granddaughter on the right path. Margaery will be the future king's wife, and nothing will stop her or her house from growing strong.

Jon

It was good seeing Sam again, the two of them have been friends for years, and he liked the young Tarly. Sam thought himself a coward, but he knew that was not true; just because he was not good at wielding a sword does not mean that he is a coward. His real talents lay with his mind. When Sam first arrived, he was a bit nervous, but about an hour later, he was much more relaxed and in an in-depth discussion with Lord Flint about the Wall and what's beyond it. The Flints had a deep history with the Wall and the Nights watch almost of the Starks, and he was glad Sam had someone to talk to.

He silently watched as Margaery danced with the crown prince; seeing them together did make him more them a bit jealous. He wanted to be the one she danced with, the one she gave that charming smile, but he knew that could not happen in public, he might have been fostered in the Reach, but he was still a bastard. If people saw them together, the word would quickly spread, and Margaery's reputation would be soiled, and he could never do something like that to her; he loved her too much. He was just going to have to put up with that. Maybe if his father asked the king to legitimize him and if he became a true Stark, then they would have a real chance instead of hiding their love for each other. Lady Olenna knew about them Margaery told him as much, but she seemed to put up with it; the real reason for that he knew not, but he was glad for it; it gave them more time together and did not need to answer to the queen of thorns.

Soon he returned his attention back to the people at his table. It has been long since he talked to some actual Northmen beside Mira. He liked her; she was a good friend to him since she first arrived at Highgarden. She almost immediately knew who he was and treated him as if he Robb. He told her that she should not address him as such for obvious reasons, but she persisted. In the next few weeks, they grew to know each other, and they were both glad to have a fellow northerner in this new place. At first, he wondered how someone from the North could end up as one of Margaery's handmaidens, but he soon found out that Mira's mother and her family were from the Reach and suffered greatly for their loyalty to the Targaryen's during Roberts rebellion. Due to her family relations to the Reach and House Tyrell, she came to Highgarden.

Mira and Dacey talked to each other while Loras was talking to Small Jon, and they were glad that they were all getting along; Loras even seemed less arrogant than he usually would be when meeting new people, probably because these were his kinsmen.

"When we meet on the field, do not expect me to hold back just because you are Jon's friend," Small Jon told Loras.

"I do not expect you to; I welcome a challenge," Loras said with a large green.

Small Jon and Lord Hronwood looked at each other and laughed. "You almost sound like a northerner." said lord Hornwood.

"Maybe he is," Mira said, and they continued laughing. "Seriously, all the time he spent with Jon, I would be surprised if he did not pick up some of his behaviour."

"We will see about that," said Small Jon.

"Aye, we will; I would also like to see if you are truly still a wolf; I pray that so much time in the south did not soften you up," said Hornwood.

"It has not, believe me," he said. "It's going to take more than southern sun and some flowers to kick the wolf out of me," Jon said, to which the Northerners laughing while Loras only looked at him with an odd look. He put one hand on Lora's shoulder and said: "Relax, I did not mean anything offensive by that."

"Oh, I know, but it will still motivate me more to beat you."

"Not if I get to him first," said Dacey with a smile.

"I welcome any of you to try and defeat me but know it will not be easy," Jon said.

"It does not need to be easy; it just needs to be satisfying," replied Loras.

They spent some more time at the northern tale before he, Loras, and Sam made their way to the Tyrell table. Margaery was sitting there beside her mother and father, who was currently talking toLordd Orme about something the lesser Lord did not seem too pleased about. As they sat down, he could see the scornful gaze that lord Tarly gave to his son, but he told Sam not to worry about it.

"Are you well, dear?" lady Alerie asked Margaery.

"Yes, I'm just tired; I think I should back to my chambers."

"Do you need help; I can get some gourds to take you back."

"No, it's fine, mother, Jon, will help me, won't you, Jon."

"Aye, I will. You have no need to worry, lady Alerie."

Lady Aleirie smiled, "Thank you, Jon." They both got up from where they sat and started walking towards the large door of the hall. She walked first, and he was right behind her.

As they reached the door, a loud voice was heard yelling, "Jon Snow!" He and Margaery both turned around to see who it was, only to realize that it was the king himself who said his name. "Come here!" Jon gave Margaery an uncertain look, to which she nodded, and he started walking towards the high table while she trailed behind him, waiting for him at the door. When he came to the high table, the king was met sitting in the middle with his father and the queen sitting at his sides.

"Your grace," Jon said as he bowed. He looked up at his father and then to the king, who was eyeing him carefully. The first thing that fell to his mind that was the reason for being called here was that he had done something wrong.

After a long moment, the king spoke, "Gods Ned, he looks just like you when you were his age. A true Stark, there is no doubt about that." The king said as he turned his head to his father.

"He is." replied his father in his usual calm tone.

The king turned his gaze back at him. "Will you be fighting in your father's tourney, boy?"

"I will, your grace."

"You think you have a chance at winning?" asked the king.

"If the gods allow me, yes."

"Gods!" the king laughed. "The boy really is just like you, Ned. Melee or the joust?"

"Both your grace."

"Then I wish you luck in both, and may you bring glory to your father and your house."

"I intend to your grace." Jon looked at his father, who had his usual neutral expression on his face while his sisters were both more than happy by the looks of it. He and the king spent the next ten minutes talking, the king acted as if he was talking to an old friend, but he knew that he had to cut this short a lady was waiting for him.

"Your Grace, I must apologize. I have to cut out time short; there is someone I have to escort back to their chambers."

"Whoever it is, they can wait." said the king. Jon frowned at that.

"Your Grace, I gave my word, and I'm a man of my word."

The king laughed again. "You are just like your father, fine you can go, but I expect you to be here tomorrow; our talk is not over."

"As you wish, my king," he said as he bowed and then started walking back where Margaery was waiting for him. Honestly, he was slightly surprised that she waited for him, but he was glad for it. They exited the great hall and made their way back to their rooms in the Maiden Vault.

"That was unexpected," Margaery said as they were walking.

"Aye, it was."

"The king acts as if you were your father."

"The king may act as he wishes."

"To be honest, you do look like a copy of your father."

"Oh, really?"

"In the looks department, yes, but there are differences, I believe, differences that make you who you are."

"You like those differences?"

"Very much so," she said as they reached the door of her room. She then suddenly grabbed the collar of his jerkin and pulled him into a kiss. The kiss was passionate and long, her lips so sweet. They pulled away to catch their breaths and stared at each other's eyes. He quickly pulled her into another kiss and opened the door behind her. As they slowly made their way inside the room, he closed them and followed her to bed. She stared quickly, taking off his jerkin and trousers, tossing them on the stone floor. Once they hit the edge of the bed, their lips parted once more. She gave him a mischievous smile before she tossed him onto the bed. They looked at each other with desire and love in their eyes. She took off her green and gold dress, giving him a perfect view of her. He stared for a moment.

"You like what you see?" she asked.

"You are beautiful, Margaery."

"I am aware of that, my wolf," she said as she climbed into the bed and kissed him once more.

They lay together, her head on his chest and his arm pulling her into a tight embrace. She sighed, which made him look at her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just wish we could stay like this longer."

"We stay a bit longer, but I must return to the feast. If I don't, people are going to start asking questions."

She put one hand on his chest. "I know, but all this hiding, it's grating; I want people to see our love, Jon."

"I'm aware, but you know what would happen if people found out that you were with me," he said with a sad look on his face. She did not say a word; he knew that she was aware of that too. He remembered the night he confessed his love to her, the joyful expression on her face, and tears of joy in her eyes. She embraced him, kissed him, and told him that she had the same feelings for him for a long time. That was the best night of his life, and the ones that followed were close to it. Now, as she lay beside him, he could not help but smile at the memory. She lifted her head slightly to look at him and noticed the smile.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing, I just remembered how all this started." A smile then appeared on her lips too.

"Yeah, I remember it as well; that sure was magical."

"That's one way to put it."

"You think it wasn't?"

"No, I do." he lowered his head and kissed her cheek. They stayed like that for a short while before he decided that it was about time he returned to the feast. He started making his way out of the bed, but then he felt her arms around his waist.

"Just a bit longer, please," she begged.

He sighed, "You know we can't."

"Just a few more minutes, please." She looked at him with her eyes full of longing.

"Alright." He returned to their original position and stayed like that until she fell asleep. Then he carefully made his way out of the bed, making sure he did not wake the sleeping beauty next to him. After putting his clothes back on, he silently opened the door, walked out of the room, and started walking back to the great hall. Once there, he sat back at the Reach table.

"Is Margaery alright, Jon?" asked lord Mace with evident concern in his voice.

"Don't worry, my lord, she is fine, just a bit tired, that's all."

"What took you so long?" asked Loras.

"I ran into some of my father's guards from Winterfell; we started chatting and lost track of time." The rest of the night went as it did before; soon after he arrived, lord Mace and lady Alerie left with lady Olenna right behind them. As lady Olenna passed him, she gave him a scornful gaze, and he knew why. Fooling her is not that easy. As he continued drinking and talking with the lords of the Reach, we felt someone hit him in his side; he turned to look at Loras.

"What?" he asked.

"See those girls with Renly over there," Loras said as he pointed in the direction of the Stormlands table.

"Yes, I do. What about them?"

"I need your help with them."

Jon smiled. "The blond of the redhead."

"The brunet."

"Seriously again."

"What?" Loras asked, slightly annoyed.

"Fine, you are my friend, and this is why I will do this for you but don't blame me if the king finds you in his brother's bed tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it, I will be careful. Am I not always?" Jon just gave him a rugged look and then proceeded to get up and follow Loras to the other table.

"Ah ser Loras, ser Jon, thank you for gracing us with your presence." said lord Renly.

"It's nothing, my lord; we just saw that you were having a good time and decided to join you."

"Good sers, let me introduce you to the ladies; this is Sarra Lannister and Alisanne Staedmon."

"A pleasure," Jon said as he took Sarra's hand first and kissed it and then did the same with Alisanne. Loras did the same after him.

"Sit then and drink," Renly chirped. Jon sat next to the girls, and Loras sat next to Lord Renly.

"So, I hear from Beric that you will both be participating in the tourney."

"Aye, we will, my lord," Jon replied.

"I will be participating too; I look forward to meeting you there."

"It would be an honour to face off against you, my lord," Jon said.

"I saw you at the tourney in Oldtown during the last year's harvest festival; you did great, and from what I hear, you have gotten even better since then."

"You flatter me, my lord."

"It's true, he is one of the best swordsmen and riders in the Reach; he is the only man who can come close to beating me," said Loras.

"If what I heard was right, he did beat you at Ashford."

"He got lucky at that time."

Jon smirked, "Luck had nothing to do with it."

"Some people say that you are the new Arthur Dayne." said the Sarra.

"People tend to exaggerate my lady," he said with a smile.

"Well, I doubt that so many people would exaggerate ser," said Alisanne.

"If I have to admit, then I would say that I'm good with a blade, but I doubt that I will ever be at the same level as the Sword of the morning."

"Never underestimate your skill ser, Jon, it does not look good when you go it," said Renly.

"He is just modest," said Loras.

They spend the next half an hour talking with Lord Renly and the ladies with Loras using every opportunity to direct the subject towards him. He knew why Loras was doing it, but he was starting to get annoyed by it. Then lord Renly got up from his seat.

"Noble lords ladies, I'm sorry to say that I must leave you."

"Why?" asked one of the lords.

"I'm not feeling well, my lord; I fear that I had a bit too much to drink this night, and my legs are starting to get shaky." Only then looked at Loras. "Ser Loras, if you would be kind enough to help me back to my chambers, it would look bad if I fell down a set of stairs in front of the view of some esteemed guests."

"As you wish, my lord," replied Loras and helped the Renly out of the hall. He knew that it was all a farce, but it seemed that one else was the wiser. When Loras and Renly exited the room, his attention was returned to the two ladies sitting next to him when Sarra spoke.

"Do you intend to win the tourney ser, Jon?"

"Aye, I do."

"Facing off against ser Loras will be a challenge."

"I'm not that worried about him, my lady; we grew up together. I know his every strength and weakness," he said with a smile.