The Final Day of the Tournant.
Lord Axel Arryn / Hand of the King.
It had been a grueling two weeks. Little sleep, much work, though the leisure ti shared with Robert and Ned was never dull. A three-day hunt in which we competed for the title of best hunter, evening gatherings in the solar, and the occasional sparring match made the punishing schedule bearable. Robert won the hunt, tracking and killing a royal stag. In the sparring, I made them both eat dirt. Robert has recovered so of his old form, but he will never return to his peak. Ned, it seems, has long since stopped devoting much ti to his training. When it ca to two against one, there was a certain pleasure in putting "the Demon of the Trident" and "the Slayer of the Sword of the Morning" face-down in the mud.
As the tournant drew closer, more and more great lords arrived for it. Since Robert had little interest in his royal duties, the burden fell to entirely. When the nobility is left idle, they go looking for amusent, and more often than not that amusent is intrigue. Nearly every man fancies himself a great scher and will pursue his ends by whatever ans he can find. My people had to slap the hands of five lords looking to fix the betting, prevent more than a few "accidental" deaths, and handle a dozen other petty matters besides.
I cannot say what it was the whores failed to provide, but Robar, deep in his cups, relieved a Tyrell girl of her maidenhood. I have long since stopped believing in that kind of coincidence. Fortunately, the rose in question turned out to be "so distant cousin on the maternal side of the brother of the great-grandfather of the previous lord." Bad enough, but not ruinous. I have been through that sort of thing myself and ca away wiser for it. Robar was spared a marriage and punished in a manner befitting the offense.
The situation forced to sit down at the table with Lady Olenna Tyrell. For years I had fought against the unchecked trading liberties of the great lords of the Reach, and over the course of two years had made so real headway. It was nothing fatal to House Tyrell, more of a sharp and sobering slap, but that did not make it any easier for them to bear. They had been seeking terms for so ti, and I had been content to ignore them. Yes, it cost the Iron Throne next to nothing, but arrogance of that kind must be humbled, so that n rember it in the years to co.
Using the business with her cousin as her opening, the Queen of Thorns finally secured her audience with . Olenna Tyrell proved to be an entertaining old woman. Despite her years, she was sharp-minded and clear-eyed, a woman of genuine strength. Her combative manner and cutting remarks stirred sothing contradictory in . I had grown accustod to the fawning of everyone around . n flattered, praised, and played the devoted servant in hopes of receiving so kingly reward. Lady Olenna had no patience for any of that, and spared no one her barbs, myself included. It was a refreshing thing.
In the end, we reached a compromise. The Iron Throne's sanctions were to be lifted, prices stabilized, a legal ceiling on maximum permitted prices introduced, the Tyrells would forget about the incident with Robar, contribute a modest sum to the crown, and lend their weight against the Lannisters. I needed only a little more to cut off the Lannisters almost entirely from their influence in King's Landing. The Tyrells would be the last piece of that puzzle.
I also found ti to see Oberyn and his captivating companion Ellaria Sand. They had sailed over with the elder Sand Snakes as well: Obara, Nyria, Tyene. The Red Viper was sniffing out the political lay of the land on his brother's behalf. I saw no reason to be coy with a man I could call a friend, and told him nearly everything. He was glad to hear of the Lannisters being strangled politically. Afterward, Oberyn extended an invitation to join an orgy. Knowing his appetites, I decided not to risk exposing my flanks, even in theory. Though Nyria and I had our own kind of fun.
It was amusing to watch Ser Kevan Lannister's frantic scrambling. The Old Lion's right hand, having finally sniffed out the true state of affairs in the capital, could not seem to decide which fire to put out first. Queen Cersei represented the lion's interests in King's Landing, and she was doing so... poorly. Her intrigues were half-ford, graceless, and designed for an audience of simpletons. Under the queen's deft stewardship, the lion's faction had lost nearly all of its real power. Now they were left to make do with the appearance of it.
The tournant itself passed without any great surprises. The champion was crowned, the queen of love and beauty chosen, prizes awarded and feasts held. I had wanted for so ti to replace the useless Renly with soone more suited to his position, and until recently there had simply been no one fitting the station. Lord Eddard Stark, future father-in-law to the future king, was offered the post of Master of Laws, and declined. No argunt or persuasion made any difference. Stark, having satisfied himself that his daughter would be well cared for, was eager to return north.
Two weeks after the tournant, Ned and his younger daughter sailed back to the North. Brandon beca Robert's squire and began training under the White Cloaks with the aim of one day joining their ranks. Anyone who believes the Kingsguard takes only the best is mistaken. They take either celebrated knights, n like Selmy, Dayne, Redwyne, or those who are politically convenient, like the Kingslayer and others of his kind. And in fifteen years, Queen Sansa would have her own loyal man among the White Cloaks. Sansa herself remained behind with a small retinue, which included Elena Snow, Ned's bastard. I had attended the wedding of Lord Beric Dondarrion and Allyria Dayne, and had found myself properly struck by the beauty of the Dayne won. The more I look at Snow, the more certain I beco that she is Ashara Dayne's daughter. There is too much pointing to it, and in years to co her beauty will break no shortage of hearts.
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