Game of Thrones - The Rose of Winterfell

The Falcon Flys No More

Moments later, I arrived at the jousting field, and with a slight raise of my skirts, I ascended the stairs leading up to the seats occupied by my sisters and Septa Mordane. Releasing my dress's skirts, I moved to sit beside Arya when Septa uttered, "there is a seat for you beside Sansa." Breathing a frustrating sigh, I settled on the bench with Sansa to my left while Lehna and Taria smoothed out my appearance. "Thank you." They bowed and quickly sat behind us as I noticed Sansa glancing around me. Following her line of sight, I wasn't surprised to find Joffrey hastily looking away from us. She blinked as I observed the spectacle before us when a voice asked, "lover's quarrel?"

We lifted our gaze to discover Lord Baelish standing over us with a pleasant smile. Sansa blinked as I linked arms with her. "I'm sorry. Do I...?" Septa glanced at us before uttering, "Sansa, Ilyanna, dear, this is Lord Baelish. He's known by..." With a happy smile, he spoke, "I am an old friend of the family." His smile grew as he wistfully said, "I've known your mother for a long time." Sansa nodded. "I believe the King wishes to begin, Lord Baelish. Perhaps you should take your seat." He nodded as I expected him to walk away, only to watch him sit beside me. Fighting back a murmur to chaste his behavior, I turned my attention to the field. "I am quite pleased that we came upon each other, Lady Ilyanna."

Confused, I glanced at him as the knights began their precession toward the field. "Why is that, my Lord?" He opened his mouth only to be interrupted by Arya asking, "why do they call you Littlefinger?" Grateful for Arya's interruption, I nearly chided Septa when she and Sansa scolded her. Arya huffed as Baelish chuckled while he adjusted his arm placement to brush against my backside to face my youngest sister. "No, it's quite all right, Septa. You see, when I was a child, I was tiny, and I come from a little spit of land called The Fingers, so you see, it's an exceedingly clever nickname." With a glance, I noticed the answer did not please her. However, before she could speak, King Robert yelled, "I've been sitting here for days! Start the damn joust before I piss myself!"

With his bellowing command, we turned our gaze to the jousting field as two men rode down the lane toward us. One man was dressed in a fresh set of gleaming silver armor upon a brown stead, with the other stopped before us and looked directly at Robert from upon his black stallion. Encased in black armor, they offered their respect to Robert as Sansa asked, "Gods, who is that?" Robert huffed at their gallant gesture. "That is Ser Gregor Clegane." I tightened my hold on Sansa as Baelish murmured, "they call him the Mountain. The Hound's older brother."

Sansa and I both tensed upon hearing that the man before us was the Mountain who rides. I observed the man rumored to have murdered the children of Prince Rhaegar before rapping his wife, Princess Elia Martell of Dorne, during the sacking of King's Landing. "Yes, yes. Enough of the bloody pomp. Have at it!" Both men turned away to return to their ends of the field as I asked, "who is his opponent? I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the sigil." Baelish hummed as he leaned into me and uttered, "that is Ser Hugh of the Vale. Until recently, he was Jon Arryn's squire." I stared at the newly made knight as Baelish wistfully uttered, "look how far he's come."

Before I could reprimand one of my mother's oldest friends, a horn sounded. Startled, I turned to watch the men ride toward each other with their lances in hand. Anxious at the outcome, Ser Gregor adjusted the position of his lance so it would graze over Ser Hugh's shield. With the run completed, they charged back to their sides, still sitting astride their horses. Breathing out, I watched a Lannister squire that appeared no older than Bran approaching the melee area while Lannister trailed behind, adjusting the placement of his gloves. "While I cannot fault your eye, Lady Ilyanna. Perhaps you should not allow your attention to drift toward an oathbreaker."

Breathing out, I looked back at the joust, ignoring Lannister's smug smile, only to hear, "especially one that may have been responsible for your dear brother's injury," moments before Sansa screamed. Blinking, I watched Ser Hugh tumble from his horse with a piece of Ser Gregor's lance protruding from his neck. With a gasp, I pulled her into my arm, ensuring she could not look at the scene. "Not what you were expecting." Ignoring Lord Baelish, I softly murmured that everything would be well as two men approached only to drag Ser Hugh's body away. "That was so horrible." Humming, I kissed her temple as I glanced at a solemn Arya and a silent Septa. "It will be over soon, and if you should desire to return to the Tower of the Hand with Septa for the remainder of the day, I will not hold it against you." She laid her head against my shoulder as Baelish uttered, "has anyone ever told you the story of the Mountain and the Hound."