Torrhen’s wolf armor was ready by the day of the tourney. When he rode out on the first day of the Tourney to present himself to the King and the people, the crowds roared in approval as he made a round on his black destrier with his black armor carrying an oak shield with a black Direwolf painted on a white field; Ice, his family’s valyrian sword strapped to his horse.
Thankfully the Direwolves were tricked to stay with Alys, so they would not attack at the men he faced against. They always listened to him but at a place crowded with excitement such as this, there was no way of predicting what they would do. Winter and Lady would complain when he got back to them but he was prepared for that too; with rich meat he would drown their complaints and make their mouths drool with the cooked meat.
Torrhen showed his showmanship as he went round the jousting fields with ice in his hand, brandishing it and swinging the great sword at an imaginary opponent for the crowds to see. And the crowds loved it, after all it was rare for their eyes to gaze upon a sword as rare as Valyrian steel. Only a handful existed since the destruction of the valyrian empire.
When he came in front of the King, he pointed Ice at the sky and his horse reared on its muscled hind legs in excitement neighing as it did so with Torrhen letting out a battle roar consumed along with his horse’s excitement.
And the crowd burst with great noise. As the horse came on its four legs, Torrhen sheathed Ice to his horse and gave Robert a nod of his head and took his place among the others.
So far it was going well, the crowd seemed to love what he did. Now all that remained was keeping them entertained enough as he won the final Joust.
The first one was easy enough that he threw his first opponent off within two rounds. He went against the chaff so it was easy to defeat them as he could control his horse with the smoothest ease of nudge.
Torrhen had always, since he was young, found it easier to ride horses with a certain elegance that is found in the most veteran riders. Owen used to tell that Torrhen was like a centaur, horse and man a single creature.
But Torrhen thought it was only because he could somehow understand the creature’s mood and emotions, he had an uncanny ability to calm them down or make them do things with a simple request. Maybe that was the thing, others seemed to command their horses to do things but Torrhen he would ask them to do it like he would a friend. Sometimes they would not obey at first but he would persuade them and promise them reward and soon they would obey whatever he asked even if it was something that he had not trained them to do before.
So with a single nudge of his foot, his horse would step in such a way that the opponents lance would glance away from his armor rather than knock him down. But his lance was placed in such a way to account for the change so it would always strike the center of his opponent.
Soon the chaff were separated from the rest and Torrhen went against those that were well known knights; he defeated Ser Meryn Trant, a knight of the Kings Guard in the third round; Ser Robar Royce, the second son of Yohn Royce from the Vale in his fourth round; then Ser Loras Tyrell, the one competing with Torrhen for the hearts of the crowd.
A simple win would not fit two jousters such as these so Torrhen made it seem as if Loras was almost his equal. Round after round the crowd was at the edge as they went at each other, with a thrust of the Tyrell’s lance it would seem as though Torrhen would fall over but a frantic grip would hold him from kissing the ground at the last moment.
Lances would splinter into a thousand pieces as they came in contact with the others armor and shield. Torrhen had broken his four times against Loras’s shield and him three against Torrhen.
Round after round, after the Lance broke Torrhen would go to Owen who would hand him the spare Lance and Torrhen would turn fast and set his horse into a gallop in the direction of Ser Loras with his Lance held ready.
And in the Final Seventh round when it seemed like it would be a draw between the two. At three paces away from Ser Loras, Torrhen’s horse with a nudge from him changed the position where he would put his legs.
His Lance, aimed at Loras’s chest, broke once more into splinters as Torrhen glanced Ser Loras’s Lance off of his armor.
And the crowd burst into mad applause, screaming and calling him, “The Black Wolf! The Black Wolf! The Black Wolf!’’ as Ser Loras fell off his horse with a great thud to the ground and Torrhen reared his horse to a stop at the edge.
As he took in the crowds applause he rode to the downed Ser Loras, got off his horse, removed his Wolf helm and gave him a hand to raise him up to his feet. That act of chivalry to a well fought opponent seemed to make the crowds love the Black Wolf even more as Loras raised Torrhen’s hand as a sign of Torrhen’s victory and acknowledgment of his defeat to a worthier opponent.
Torrhen eyed Sansa and Septa Mordane among the stands for the Nobility. She was standing up and clapping her hands with the rest of the crowd who found his act chivalrous. For a moment he forgot about her past mistake and gave a smile and a nod towards her direction. Jeyne pool, his sister’s friend who was with her blushed.
The sun was almost setting so the King called the end of the joust for the day and led the court to the feast by the river; Six huge aurochs had been roasting for hours as the kitchen boys basted them with butter and herbs.
Torrhen was given a place of honor to the left of King Robert, even seating his own son next to his Queen to the right; that seemed to vex the Queen Cersei and she gave hostile looks to Robert every now and then. Sansa and Septa Mordane too were given a seat on the High Table beside Torrhen; after all she was betrothed to Joffery, though Torrhen still had doubts about that betrothal, he couldn’t deny the advantage an alliance with the Royal Blood would help in the fight against the Others.
The King seemed to be in a good mood as he let the wine flow into his mouth and feasted upon the food as he asked Torrhen to tell tales of his adventures away from Ned and home. As he told Robert the adventures he faced in his travels, the King seemed more interested to give up the crown and go off on adventures of his own in Essos as Torrhen had done but lamented the weight of his crown that stopped him from doing so. Torrhen’s conversations with Robert seemed to improve the relations that was strained since the incident at the Trident.
Sansa was happy and talked about the other Knights who fought chivalrously on that day with great excitement. She and Septa Mordane congratulated him on fighting well, the Septa said that Torrhen had done well to better represent the North than Jory had done.
In the middle of a conversation with Robert, Joffrey sat himself between Sansa and Septa Mordane. Torrhen allowed it. It would be better to mend the gap and any differences between them and Joffrey was still a child, he could turn out to be better with a bit of discipline that seems to be absent till now. A private talk with Robert of Joffrey squiring for a respectable knight could solve his discipline problems.
Sansa and Joffrey talked a bit about the Tourney. And when he filled iced summer wine in Sansa’s and Septa Mordane’s glass, Torrhen intervened, “A single glass is enough for you Sansa, no more, do you promise? If you behave you might meet with Lady.”
Sansa nodded with glee at the prospect of meeting with her Direwolf. Joffrey seemed to want to defy him and use his authority as crown prince to let Sansa have more drinks but backed down with a single look from Torrhen. So far the boy seems to have behaved good with Sansa.
Every now and then raising a toast to the Hand’s son, the King roared with the wine flowing in his veins, “To the Black Wolf! Who seems to have won the heart of every maiden and gave us a good show of martial entertainment. You would be a great warrior with a great sword or a war hammer upon the battle field, I know that as a warrior myself, boy. Tell me, will you fight in the melee tomorrow and show us how you fare with your feet on the ground? I would love to fight against you with my war hammer just like the old days.”
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Torrhen raised his chalice and downed the wine. “I would love to go in a fight against a warrior such as yourself Robert, the tales I have heard about you in the battlefield with your war hammer that others find hard to even lift. But I must decline, I do not like to participate in a melee.”
“Are you scared Stark?” Ser Jamie said with a sneer. Some of the Lannister men gave a chuckle.
Torrhen had drunk too much wine. “No Ser Jamie, I follow my father’s example in matters such as this, a melee would reveal too much of the way I fight. And I like to surprise my enemies when I meet them in the battlefield in the future. They won’t know what hit them.” Torrhen gave a smile to Jamie Lannister.
“A shame,” said King Robert. “I would have loved to fight against you tomorrow.”
The conversation continued, until two wolf’s howl sounded, a Direwolves howl not a wolf’s, and the feast became silent. The people turned their heads around in fear to look at where the beasts sounded so that they can run in the other direction.
“Its fine,” Torrhen reassured them as he rose.
Ser Barristan and a few members of the Kingsguard had their hands on the handle of their swords.
“Ser Barristan,” Torrhen said. “There is no need for anyone to unsheathe your sword. Believe me. Your Grace if you would be so kind.”
“No one will raise their sword in my feast within my presence tonight,” Robert said. “Any one who does so will face my wrath tomorrow in the melee.”
Torrhen could feel the excitement of the Direwolves. As they neared he could hear it too. They were in a mad rush as they burst towards the High Table. The men and women near to the Direwolves path scrambled to get away from them.
Just as they were about to pounce on Torrhen across the High Table, he roared: “Stop right there!”
And like someone cut their strings, Winter and Lady halted in a skid and stopped right in front of the high table and Ser Barristan his hand still on his sword’s hilt, with their tails wagging left and right fast.
“Sit.” The Direwolves sat on the ground. Winter let out a bark as he did so and Lady didn’t bark as she did. Torrhen leaped across the table, walked to them and knelt in front of them. “I hope the both of you behaved well in my absence.”
The both of them gave a bark in response. The crowd seemed to calm down as they saw the Direwolves behaving well and in a civilized manner.
“No licking,” Torrhen said. “I repeat there will be no licking and no pouncing on me. Go softly, I am a human and you both are not pups anymore. Now bring it.”
Winter and Lady disobeyed all his instructions and pounced on him. Putting his back to the ground and Winter licked his face with his slobbery tongues as the crowd laughed around him.
Torrhen fought with a smile to stop Winter’s tongue from licking his face any longer, even Lady had started to lick him at the end. She was getting corrupted more from staying with her brother and behaving less lady like with each passing day to Torrhen’s relief, after all Lady was a direwolf and he didn’t want to see her behave like one of those strict, boring highborn Ladies. Torrhen wanted Lady to be free from any backward restrictions that humans forced themselves upon.
He rubbed their heads and kissed their foreheads. “For being a good boy and girl all day you both need to be rewarded! Bring the meat!” Torrhen called to the servants. They responded with barks.
He bought Winter and Lady to the grass outside the pavilions and away from the crowd. Even though they smiled at Winter’s and Lady’s antics they seemed tense. The moment Sansa followed them, Lady went to her. She was very much delighted to meet Lady after all these days and Lady too was happy to see Sansa as she responded to Sansa.
Joffrey seemed to have followed Sansa with Ser Sandor Clegane to shadow him. Though he stayed a step away from her.
The servants bought half an auroch, cooked on a spit and placed it on the grass. Torrhen let Winter and Lady eat to their hearts content as they devoured it.
Sansa was back with her Prince, telling tales of Lady to him.
Torrhen sat on the ground and watched Winter and Lady eat the meet. For some reason, watching them eat filled his stomach too.
The Direwolves almost finished eating their meat when they heard a roar coming from the Pavilion. “You do not tell me what to do, woman,” Robert screamed at Queen Cersei. “I am king here, do you understand? I rule here, and if I say that I will fight tomorrow, I will fight!”
The Queen left in silence with her servants trailing after her.
Jaime Lannister put a hand on the king’s shoulder, but the king shoved him away hard. He stumbled and fell. The king guffawed. “The great knight. I can still knock you in the dirt. Remember that, Kingslayer.” He slapped his chest with the jeweled goblet, splashing wine all over his satin tunic. “Give me my hammer and not a man in the realm can stand before me!”
Jaime Lannister rose and brushed himself off. “As you say, Your Grace.” His voice was stiff.
Lord Renly came forward, smiling. “You’ve spilled your wine, Robert. Let me bring you a fresh goblet.”
Looks like the King was too drunk. Torrhen had no mind interfering in a quarrel between a Royal husband and wife so he just watched them.
“It grows late,” Joffrey said. He had a queer look on his face and for the first time Torrhen felt pity for the boy. Now, he could understand some of his behavior. With parents like his, no wonder he was lacking good manners and behavior. “Do you need an escort back to the castle?” he asked Sansa.
“No,” Sansa began. She looked for Septa Mordane, but she was asleep back at the table because of her low tolerance to wine. And when she looked to Torrhen with those sweet and begging eyes, Torrhen gave a nod. “I mean to say … yes, thank you, that would be most kind. I am tired, and the way is so dark. I should be glad for some protection.”
Joffrey called out, “Dog!
“Yes, Your Grace?” Sandor Clegane said.
“Take my betrothed back to the castle, and see that no harm befalls her,” Joffrey told him brusquely. And without even a word of farewell, Joffrey strode off, leaving Sansa there. Looks like he had some learning to do on how to treat a Lady well.
Torrhen laughed along with the Hound at Sansa’s dashed hopes of being escorted by the Prince. “Did you think Joff was going to take you himself?” Sandor laughed. “Small chance of that. Come, you’re not the only one needs sleep. I’ve drunk too much, and I may need to kill my brother tomorrow.” He laughed again.
Sansa looked terrified and once more requested with her eyes for another favor at her brother. But Torrhen only smiled, “Lady will accompany you Sansa, she can stay with you for the night.”
Lady went to Sansa without a complaint or so much as looking back at him. She was relieved for the Direwolf to accompany her. Men like Sandor with his burnt face probably scared his sister more. But other than the incident at the Trident, all the reports Torrhen had learnt about him showed that he was nothing like his rabid brother, he behaved more like a knight than his knighted brother did. So he let him escort his sister, but not without a warning.
He took the Torch from Owen and handed it to Sandor Clegane, “You will see to it that my sister is escorted safely Clegane or there will be hell to pay. See you on the morrow at the joust.”
“Whatever,” Sandor muttered as he went away with his Sister and Lady to watch after her for Torrhen.
The feast was over now, and everyone had disappeared after the King stumbled away.
Torrhen sat back on the grass and watched the stars in the dark night. Winter bought his head to rest upon Torrhen’s lap as he stroked his head in the way he found satisfying. The rest of the pack that remained with him in Kingslanding sat beside him; Cleyton, Owen, Alys and Rose, she seemed healed from her traumatic past with Ramsay Snow.
“For some reason I feel like the days of peace and summer will soon end,” Torrhen said with a depressed voice.
“Maybe,” Owen said, as he rested with his back on the grass, eyes almost closed with sleep. “Winter might start anytime soon after all these years of summer. But remember that you are a part of the Pack Torrhen. Even the harshest winter won’t be able to hurt us so long as we remain a Pack.”
“Damn,” Alys said with a smile. “Jax was right, Owen is getting too old. We should have left him in Winterfell.”
Rose chuckled, Torrhen, Alys and Cleyton smiled, and Winter let out a bark as though he understood the conversation, as Owen muttered a sleepy protest. And they bought back that familiar feeling of safety to Torrhen that he had felt after he ran away from home with Owen and found his Pack one by one.
Torrhen was ready to die for them but it would break his heart to see any one of his Pack dying for him before he could do anything in his power to stop it.
Out of the many knights, free riders and hedge knights only four remained to participate in the Semi-finals and Finals tomorrow; Torrhen Stark himself, Sandor Clegane, Ser Jamie Lannister of the Kingsguard and finally the rabid dog, Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that rides.
It would be interesting to go against him. Torrhen could finally have a chance to put down the rabid dog with a well placed lance like the Dog did with the one he went against.
Maybe tomorrow was the day the rapist and murderer Gregor Clegane would finally meet his end.
Torrhen hoped that he could keep his emotions in check tomorrow, but after he had read the reports of the Mountain’s actions the task would be impossible as he faced him tomorrow.
Even remembering it bought Torrhen’s blood to a boil.
Sensing his unease, Winter gave a low growl.
“Is it about tomorrow’s joust?” Cleyton said, with exact accuracy. He knew Torrhen well enough after all the years they traveled together.
“Yes.”
“You can’t do anything to him tomorrow,” Alys said with concern. “All the eyes will be on you. No matter the reason, if they see any wrongdoing the Lannister’s will pronounce it murder.”
“Yes. I know.”
“Promise me then,” Alys said.
Torrhen remained silent for a moment as he considered it. Then: “That I cannot do.”
Cleyton sighed. “Whatever you do, do not attack him unprovoked. We can spin off anything else but an unprovoked attack against a knight of the seven kingdoms, no matter the past or previous actions, for no reason will set us back greatly.”
All Torrhen said was: “I know.” But he knew he would not be able to control himself in front of the rabid dog.