Game of Thrones: StormBorn

291AC

As much as the city of King's Landing was unpleasant, overcrowded, smelly, and disgusting, it did have a few redeeming features. The Great Sept of Baelor and the Red Keep were both marvels of architecture, on par with the Hagia Sophia and any castle I could care to name, particularly with its skyscraper size. Maegor's Holdfast easily dwarfed Dragonstone. Though oddly I missed the gargoyles, which was a bit odd to admit, I had never thought I liked the things that much.

And then there was the tournament.

Now, I had been to a great many jousts in my day, at Renaissance fairs and restaurants mostly. But there was something more authentic about the crushing, violent clashes that were occurring now. Everything was less standardized, the armor varied, as did the skull of the men. It surprised me actually, I think most of the modern jousts I had seen were actually at a higher level of skill than all but the best of the Knights here. Perhaps it was simply that the sport was the actual employment of many of the modern men I saw. They had more time to practice and better gear.

That said, there was at times a frightening lack of respect for the opponent's life, and not in the showy way it had occasionally been used before. Here men were unhooked and sometimes left to find their own ways back to their tents while nursing broken arms or legs.

I made sure to cheer whenever the rule was broken and men did help the others back up. As much as my designs would likely kill chivalry forever, I could still appreciate it's nobler practitioners while they lived.

The Melee was in many ways worse in that aspect. While the fights were certainly entertaining, particularly those involving Thoros of Myr with his moronic flaming sword. The injuries were much more brutal and often uncared for until the end of the match.

However, while I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the bloodsports to some degree, if just out of a fascination for seeing how medieval combat really worked outside of my own tutoring, what enjoyment I found there couldn't salvage King's Landing for me.

The Feasts afterward were simply put the most odious thing I've ever experienced, not least because of my "Family" and my Family.

The first night of feasting was when I was introduced to the lot of them, though I had seen them the day before. My father said most of the words while I stood to the side and bowed.

"Robert, here is my son, Arthur."

"Aye, I remember you, and stop that bowing lad, you're my nephew." I did as I was told, turning to face the king in the eye. He was a big man, though no taller than my father, he was broader by a great deal. "The last time I saw you, you were a bundle in your mother's arms. You've grown a bit since then, and taken to ships like your father I've heard. Tell me, what's the name of that vessel you've sat in the harbor?"

"The Great Stag your grace," I replied, which got a rumbling belly laugh out of the man.

"Your son has a better sense for names than you Stannis, and a better head for money too I hear."

I could hear my father's teeth grind as the king laughed. I had thought he had broken the habit, but I supposed maybe he had just kept it to a minimum on Dragonstone.

"Alright go on then, introduce yourself to the Queen and your cousins."

I nodded, not quite sure what to make of Robert yet. I had no such qualms about the Queen.

Cersei Lannister was a very pretty woman, fit to be a Sports Illustrated Model or something of the like. Great proportions, big assets, a pretty face, the works, but she was also an incestuous Harlot and before I even got to say my name she was already spitting venom at me.

"Greetings, your Grace, I am-"

"I know who you are, the Grey Baratheon. I take it you are enjoying the festivities?"

The greyscale remnants on my chin prickled and the woman glowered down at me with eyes like a snake's, as if daring me to refute the name. I had to take a step back at the sheer amount of open hostility right off the bat. I had expected her to at least pretend to be nice or charming at first.

"His name is Arthur, your Grace." My father was by my side in a moment, but if anything, his rebuttal only made the witch laugh.

"Oho, my mistake." She said gleefully, and I could hear the ripples through the court, still, I didn't need much from anyone here who would care about that sort of thing.

"Ah, you must meet my darling little Joffrey though, he's the most handsome little boy in Westeros."

She grabbed the boy, who was loitering around behind her and pulled him up to us. 'I wonder if she thinks she's being subtle with that comparison?'

Still, I took the initiative to introduce myself. "Hello Joffrey, I'm Arthur, your cousin." Joffrey was, at this point, still relatively cute, with a round face, but he already had that Lannister glare down pat.

"I know, Mother has told me about you." the little psycho said, his eyes immediately going to my scar. "Is it true that Greyscale turns you into a statue if you have it long enough."

'Are they coordinating, or is it just their natural inclination to pick on someone's weaknesses,' I wondered as I shook my head. "No, it just makes the skin hard and flaky, it isn't actual stone."

If either of them thought physical appearance was really going to give them a victory over me then they were wrong, I had more true power than either of them, at least at the moment, and I was not so vain as to explode over their insults.

"A shame, you would look good in the garden."

I could swear the sound of teeth grinding beside me doubled in volume, but for my part, I simply chuckled. "I have been told I would look good anywhere," I said, which caused a look of confusion and anger to pass over the boy's face, though his mother stepped in.

"A shame so many will lie to children, ah, but I'm afraid my younger child is still too small for the feast, please, you should introduce yourself to your other uncle, he looks to be getting impatient over there."

I nodded, wanting to spend no more time with the ridiculous Lannisters and instead ended up being dragged into an enormous hug by the recently appointed Master of Laws.

"Hah, Young Arthur, I was your age the last time I saw you lad, but your father has been bragging about you so much since then."

I smiled at the man, even if he would turn traitor, later on, he was not one yet. "Uncle Renly I presume?"

"The very same. And here I thought Stannis had been simply boasting before you sailed that monster into the harbor. The Great Stag you call it? Tell me, do you plan to build more of them?"

"Aye uncle, for my trading company."

"Haha, and I have heard of that as well. I have no idea where you got a head for money from, the Seven know not one amongst thought the three of us do."

"I don't either, but I have it nonetheless, and it would be a waste to not put it to use."

"Indeed indeed. Ah, your father is giving me a look, I shall leave you to him for the moment. We will have plenty of time to chat at the feast anyhow."

I nodded "See you later then Uncle Renly" while my father shuffled me over to the side. He crouched down beside me, glancing over towards the main feast which was thankfully going perfectly well despite our absence.

He looked like he had a great deal to say, but finally just stopped, looking me in the eye.

"Stay away from the queen and the prince if you can avoid them. They do not like you, and she sees you as a threat. If you must speak to them, just do your duty. I should have warned you beforehand but now is good enough."

I nodded sharply as if to say I had been planning on it anyway, which I had.

"Good." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Your mother already told you the rest. If men like us just keep quiet and do our duty then we'll be fine."