Tony watched Victor with quiet satisfaction. The big man had fought at the very top level of Westeros without even breaking a sweat.
Jai's hands were still trembling, but not from fear. It had been years since anyone had pushed him that hard.
Robert roared with laughter. "Now that was a proper lion-and-tiger brawl! Your man nearly put the Kingslayer on his ass, Tony. I like him."
Tony gave a small bow. "Your Grace, my apologies. Victor didn't recognize you. He ant no disrespect."
"Bah, forget it. The boy's got real strength. Reminds of myself at his age." Robert turned to Jai with a wicked grin. "What's the matter? Did the big bastard almost take you?"
Jai's jaw tightened. "He's strong, Your Grace. But the Kingsguard are not easily bested."
Robert just chuckled and wandered over to talk with Victor, clearly taken with the new giant.
Jai stepped closer to Tony. "Maester Tony. Jai Lannister. We haven't been properly introduced."
Tony pulled him into a quick, easy hug. "The most famous knight in the Seven Kingdoms? I'd have to be blind not to know you, Ser Jai."
Jai studied him. "Hard to believe Brandon Stark left a son like you behind. Even if you are a bastard."
Tony's smile didn't waver. "Bastard, trueborn, it doesn't matter in the end. Blood is blood. Wouldn't you agree?"
Sothing flickered in Jai's eyes. For a second he looked uneasy.
Before he could answer, Robert ca stomping back. "Tony, this Victor of yours isn't a knight yet. Let do it. Right here, right now."
Tony shook his head. "He hasn't earned his spurs yet, Your Grace. Give him ti. Let him do sothing worthy first."
Robert sighed, then brightened. "Fine. But from now on he's the Tiger Knight. I'm naming him that myself."
As the sun dropped, Robert decided they would camp together for the night. No point riding in the dark when good company and better wine were right there.
At dinner Tony found himself seated among the royal party — Tyrion, Cersei, Joffrey, Tomn, and little Myrcella.
Myrcella turned to him with bright eyes. "Tony, is it true what you wrote? That Ser Lancelot founded House Lannister and served King Arthur?"
The rest of the Lannisters stared at Tony. His books — especially the ones about Arthur and the Round Table — were popular with knights and would-be sorcerers alike, even if none of them could actually cast the spells.
Tony smiled at the girl. "Princess, what do you think history really is?"
"History is… history," she said. "It's what the maesters write down."
"No," Tony said gently. "History is like you."
Myrcella blinked and grabbed a little mirror, checking her reflection. "?"
"Enough," Cersei cut in sharply. "Stop toying with my daughter, Tony Stark."
Robert waved a hand, already deep in his cup. "Let the man talk, woman. It's just stories."
Tyrion leaned forward, eyes sharp. "I'd like to hear this too. From the cleverest man in the world."
Tony ignored the sarcasm. "History is a little girl. You can dress her up however you like. The winners write the story. That's what 'might makes right' really ans."
Robert laughed so hard he nearly spilled his wine. Even Jai and Tyrion gave small, thoughtful nods.
Joffrey frowned. "So what does that have to do with us and Lancelot?"
Tony shrugged. "Nothing at all. I made it up. Sounded better than the truth, didn't it?"
Cersei's mouth thinned. Tyrion looked like he wanted to argue but couldn't quite find the words.
Later, when the al was ending, Tyrion asked the question that had been bothering him.
"You travel with very few guards, yet your wagons are heavy. What exactly are you carrying north?"
"Maester's specialties," Tony said lightly. "I'll send you so books when we reach Winterfell."
Tyrion accepted the lie for now. Tony didn't ntion the real cargo — barrels of wildfire he'd brewed from forbidden Citadel texts. Benjen Stark had written asking for help. White Walkers had been seen again. Since Tony couldn't build guns or engines in this world, he'd turned to the only power left: magic. Wildfire was the one weapon he could actually deliver.
After dinner Tony gave Tyrion a small stack of books. Tyrion pressed a gold coin into his hand.
"A Lannister always pays his debts," the dwarf said.
Tony flipped the coin once and grinned. "I wouldn't dream of taking anything for free."
Cersei stood. "Myrcella, bed. We ride early."
"But I want a story," the girl protested.
"Then bother your uncle Tyrion. Or ask Tony Stark. He's the one who tells the best lies."
Myrcella didn't need to be told twice. She ca running out of the royal carriage a few minutes later and tugged on Tony's sleeve.
"Tony, please? Tell a story."
Tony looked down at her hopeful face and smiled.
"All right. I'll tell you about The Lion King."
"Long ago, on the golden plains of the Serengeti, there was a pride of lions called the Pride of Glory…"
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