"Crown prince Joffrey!" A slightly slurred shout was heard from a dark haired youth with grey eyes. "I challenge you to a duel!"

What brought this on?

Well , Occam's razor dictates that it's most likely a mix between a need to be acknowledged by his father and one too many glasses of wine.

It kind of funny too , seeing him glare in my general direction while wobbling on his feet.

Still , this presented an opportunity.

Both my father and lord Stark were too flabbergasted to speak for a few seconds, so I responded instantly to not let anyone take the wind out of my sails.

"Lords and ladies of Winterfell, friends and foes alike,

In the heart of these ancient halls, a spark has been ignited—a spark that shall blaze forth as a torrent of skill, strength, and determination.

It was a challenge, thrown down with defiance by none other than Jon Snow, that has led us to this very moment.

(The boy in question having been already taken somewhere else by his uncle to be scolded probably)

As I stand here, I realize that words can only go so far.

There is a primal energy that courses through our veins, a yearning to prove ourselves in the crucible of combat!

So, why not let our swords do the talking? Why not let the ring of steel upon steel resonate with the depths of our resolve?

Hence, I propose to you a grand tournament—a spectacle where honor, valor, and mettle shall be put to the ultimate test.

Every clash of swords will be a symphony of courage, every strike a declaration of unwavering determination.

From the youngest squire to the most seasoned knight, each one of us has a chance to etch their name in the annals of history.

Let the cries of victory resound through these walls, and let the defeated stand with heads held high, for they have dared to enter the arena.

Let us revel in the thrill of competition, and let us embrace the bonds that form when we face one another in combat.

To the challengers and the champions, the skilled and the spirited, I extend an invitation—an invitation to make your mark upon the tapestry of this tournament.

To those who doubt our resolve, let them see our steel, let them witness our prowess, and let them acknowledge the indomitable spirit that courses through the veins of every participant.

Winterfell has seen its share of history, but now, let it bear witness to a new chapter—a chapter etched in the language of the sword, a chapter marked by courage and honor.

Let this tournament be a spectacle that echoes in our memories for years to come!

With that, I bid you all, warriors of the North and beyond, to step forth, to seize this opportunity, and to let your blades tell the tale that words could never truly capture.

To the grand tournament!"

And there was , indeed , chaos.

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Soldiers were hollering and nobles were clapping and cheering.

People were shouting they wanted to participate, and everyone had questions about how a simple spar between me and Lord Stark had turned into a grand tourney.

"Silence!" My father roared , and finally , the grand hall quilted down.

"Even though I was not aware of my son's plans..." My father said while giving me a look that promised I would have to answer for my actions. "A grand tourney, you say? By the gods, it seems like Winterfell is about to get a taste of some real action! *chuckles*

Lords and ladies, warriors and revelers, I stand here with a tankard in my hand and a smile on my face.

If there's one thing I've learned in my time on the Iron Throne, it's that a good fight can bring folks together like nothing else.

Aye, the clatter of shields, the roar of the crowd—there's nothing quite like it.

So, my friends, my fellow enthusiasts of the battle-hardened life, let it be known!

King Robert gives his hearty agreement to this tourney. *raises tankard* Let the swords clash, the armor gleam, and the ale flow like a river.

I've had my share of battles, believe me, but what's a king to do if not indulge in a bit of sport now and then?

Winterfell, you've got my blessing, and I'll be right there at the front row, cheering on every knight, squire, and wild-eyed warrior who dares to step into that ring.

May the best blade win, and may the ale be strong and the merriment even stronger!

To the tourney, my friends! *Gulp*

Damn good ale..."

Eddard Stark, aware that he couldn't go against the king's decree , silently sighed and started talking.

"Friends and honored guests,

It warms my heart to see the fervor and enthusiasm for this grand tournament that has taken hold of Winterfell.

The clash of steel, the thrill of competition—these are traditions that have been etched into the very stone of our home.

I stand before you not just as the Lord of Winterfell, but as a fellow lover of the sword and the ring.

The idea of this tourney speaks to the essence of camaraderie and skill that binds us as warriors and as a community.

In two days' time, the great tourney shall commence within these hallowed walls. Let it be known that Winterfell shall be a host to knights, squires, and fighters from all corners of the realm.

It shall be a celebration of valor, a testament to the spirit of the North, and a showcase of the indomitable will that courses through the veins of every participant.

To the future contestants, I say this: May your blades be true, and may your hearts be resolute.

Until then, let the anticipation build, and may this grand tourney be a memory that shall linger in the songs of our bards for generations to come!

And most importantly, let us enjoy this feast to the fullest!"

And with a wave of his hand , the music started playing again...

.

.

.

.

"Was this your plan from the beginning?" My father asked me a few hours later when we managed to slip away to his and mother's chambers.

"Honestly, I just wanted a spar with Lord Stark..." Yeah , bullshit. I wanted to tempt fate without tempting it too much . And even after all these waves I made , there was no response.

It was becoming more and more possible that there was no predetermined route this world would take.

And that would mean that I could shape it as I wanted , by that's besides the point. "But when the bastard boy challenged me in turn , I had an epiphany . Why limit myself to one opponent, when I can fight them all? HAHAHA"

It was clear that the Fat king didn't expect such an answer , but he rolled with it and started laughing as well.

"HAHAHA, Indeed , my boy. I remember when. I was your age... Just don't overexert yourself.

Ser Barristan told me you are a natural with the sword , learning faster than any he had seen before in his life , but overconfidence spells only doom and sorrow, remember that , my son"

"Thank you for being understanding, father" I lightly bowed my head to show I understood his meaning. When you see that you'll lose , surrender before getting hurt.

Heh , maybe I will indeed lose , but a failure teaches us more than a win , as bitter as this truth is to swallow sometimes.

And besides, my real objective was waiting for me in the Godswood.

This whole tourney was nothing but a ruse.

"I would like to visit the Library of the castle, to see if I can find anything of interest.

Am I excused , my king?" I asked in a sarcastic tone.

"HAHAHA , my boy , you've grown ballsy! Now that I think about about it , your whole demeanor has changed!

Before , you looked more like a girl than a heir to the throne, no offense .

But now when I look at you , I see a warrior and king in the making!

Tell me, Joffrey, what's the secret to your sudden transformation?

Have you discovered a new diet that turns boys into men?

Or perhaps you've been swiping Lord Stark's secret stash of warrior's porridge?"

Heh , good one.

"Well, Your Grace, you might be onto something. It seems that the wisdom and guidance of Ser Barristan Selmy have worked wonders. His training regimen has been rigorous, and I've found that discipline and practice have a way of forging both body and character."

There , it's the old man's fault, happy?

I'm not a soul eating demon wearing your dead son's body like a Halloween costume , I swear...

"Yes yes , indeed...Maybe I should have him train Tommen too...He might also have your talent with the sword..."

I highly doubt that , but you do you , Fat king , you do you...

"Your grace, I will be in the Library if you need me. Have a wonderful night, father"

And then I fucking got up and left.

Enough time has been wasted on pointless small talk and sophistries.

The Starks are an old family with great origins.

They also have a library.

A library I specifically asked about during the feast , and I got permission to visit.

Now , to expect to find something useful would be too optimistic.

I will declare myself satisfied if I find some interesting myths.

Since this is a fantasy world...they are most likely real.

And I guess learning new languages would help but that's quite an endeavor.

Ohh , I'm getting all fired up!

(Heh , get it , Endeavor, fired up ? Eh eh)

Whatever, let's go read some books.

Then I will let my flesh golem rest.

And then I will go find myself a soul...

My experiments are long due...

------------------

A.N :

,,To give up would lead to stagnation stagnation was death.

Nothing was as dangerous to me as mediocrity.

Mediocrity would lead me on a steady path back to where I used to be, before powers, before maturing and, before learning that I could be whoever I wanted.

Mediocrity was a pit, stagnation the crabs.

Not giving up was the only ladder out.

For me now, the climb was all there was."

-Greg Vader in some Worm gamer fanfic.

(I kid you not)