A tourney for a bride

Chapter 5: A thousand years

His son wasn't breathing. That means he was dead, and it was all his fault. He allowed this tourney to be held because of the tantrum of a little girl. He allowed this tourney to continue when Euron Greyjoy appeared because he wanted to teach his son a lesson. And now he was dead.

"Your grace. What do we do?" Corbyn asked, with hand on the sword. "Your grace?"

"Nothing," he said, jumping onto the field, as Greyjoy backed away, with the dagger still at Daenerys' throat. "What do you want, Greyjoy? My sister? The Iron Throne? My dragons?"

"All of them," Greyjoy said, grinning, and licking his lips, "But first. Your little sister will suck my cock in front of you all, and you will see her swallow the glorious seed of Crow's eye." Pushing Daenerys down, but still holding his dagger at her throat, he said, "Now. Be a good whore and untie my breeches."

Daenerys, shooting a glare to the man, brought her hands up, but before she could even start to untie his breeches, an arrow stuck in Greyjoy's throat, and Daenerys managed to free herself immediately, before grabbing the dagger from his weak hand and cut Euron between the legs, and stab his other eye.

Euron Greyjoy fell to the ground, twitching in agony because of the three wounds, and choking on his blood.

When Rhaegar looked in the search of the one who shoot the arrow, he saw Lyanna holding a bow, and nock another arrow, before shooting another Greyjoy man, that was still attacking the crowd, and then another Greyjoy and another.

"Your grace," he heard Corbyn call him, and saw him point towards the enemy, with Clegane eager to slaughter a few bodies.

"Put down the rebellion," he said and they run towards the enemy, with more guards coming here while he turned his attention back to the field where his son, Jae, was laying and where Daenerys was now kneeling in tears.

*****

Moments later...

Jon was placed inside his rooms, and Daenerys never left his side, with eyes red and stained by the tears, that keep coming. But in truth, all of them were that way, and he was full of rage. Rage towards Euron Greyjoy but above all towards his father the king who allowed that madman to fight Jae.

"How is he, Pycelle?" the king asked the old Grandmaester who was examining Jae's body, now free of the armour and all garments, as he could see a small wound on his brother's chest, barely noticeable, from which dark things were spreading.

"I don't know, your grace. I don't think I can do anything fr the young Prince. He is dead."

"He is not. And you will do everything it's necessary to save him, or I will kill you with my own hands," his father said, threatening the old man, as Ser Arthur stepped in and approached the king whispering something.

"What is it, father?"

"The Lords and Ladies are gathered in the Throne room, and demand an audience," his father snapped, "Now I have to clean up the mess you and her and him have made with the nobles."

"It's your fault," Lyanna stark said, in a broken voice and the king stopped, looking at his second wife, who was staring at Jae, with tears that were streaming down, her cheek. Turning, with furrowed eyebrows, said, "It is your fault that our son is dying." And a slap came to the king's face. "Yours!" she kept screaming and slapping the king, who backed away, till it was Arthur the one to stop her, wrapping his arms around her, saying, "It' enough, my Queen," as she let herself fall down, in a loud sob, and his mother immediately rushed to her, once Arthur let her go, trying to console.