Chapter 8: Broken Hearts

Cheers! Hollers! Insults! Joy! And Pain!

The noise that echoed across the ancient fortress was a grand one as people could barely hear each other despite being next to one another.

Right Infront of them is the Arena. And within is the spectacle that all couldn't take their eyes off of.

Arthas ducked a slash as he sent cleave to the man's waist. He spun out of a spear and broke the shaft with his elbow and then stepped back from an axe which he also broke with his sword and then parried a sword aside while striking at the neck of the nearest person he could find. He then ducked again and then guarded against a premature swing with his gauntlets while striking the arm. And then parried two swords away and finally striking his pommel to a knee breaking it while he spun to the side wide an upwards swing of his own, hitting the attacker strongly by the helm.

And the crowed cheered as one man takes them all on.

~~~ Arthas • POV ~~~

This was the beginning of the melee I had found myself in. People are no longer fighting a battle royal. No. This was me against the world. And quite frankly, I am not complaining, not one bit.

My heart is beating like a drum, my eyes are sharper than ever before, my ears could hear the ringing of their swords, the stretching of their leathers, and their grunts of pain as they fell. And my body is burning for more.

Ever since the joust two days ago this people could clearly no longer tolerate me. I mean I don't blame them. This was supposed to be something for a great many to be recognized and I am sadly hogging all the fame...psyche. no. Not really.....Weeeelllll not entirely at least.

Hearing the singing of a blade I side stepped as I struck the wrist, breaking it.

These guys? Their paid to do this. They are assassins. One person sneaking in live steel is one thing. Ninety nine of them is a different matter entirely.

And I am enjoying decimating their plan in their face.

Seeing the perpetrator's face morph into an ugly sneer with each person I bought down made me smile. And I made sure he sees it by sending him a wink....I winced at that.

'... intentionally making enemies!?!?.... seriously!?...I am stupid as a child huh. Can't wait to grow up! Again!'

Several minutes passed and the vigor of the crowed had yet to die down despite me wilting away at my enemies. Ok that was a dumb train of thought, of course they would be more excited for every person I took down.

And it wasn't any longer when only one man was left standing while the rest were either unfortunately dead, unconcious, groaning in pain, or ...uhh... what is this guy doing... Oh... playing dead.

Now only one remained and he was shaking were he stood as his sword swayed shakily despite it being trained at me. Ok maybe not assassins. But they were clearly implicated at least!

I thought I'd show them what the bout was about and pick up a steel sword and start to sharpen the edges of my blunted blade with it. Now this was not against the rules so no one could have said anything about it. But for them to see what was really happening was the idea. I needed the crowed after all.

Sadly I decided against it. Grabbing another weapon would have been grounds for disqualification. And I wasn't about to give them ammunitions to disparage my name just to further my ego. No, that's just dumb.

And then they cheered louder. Had to stop myself from covering my ears for that. Of course I wasn't expecting that reaction. I was just standing here...menacingly. But...meh...I've been wrong many enough times to tell to myself. 'oh well, shit happens.'

By the time I turned to my last opponent I saw him already running through the waiting knights for the next melee outside of the arena.

"""""YEAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!""""""

Again came the noise. But seeing them cheering me on, I gotta admit. This was kinda fun.

~~~ Break ~~~

I returned to my camp not even feeling a slight bit tired. But I do have a bit of a headache. As soon as my ass felt the fur on my throne, I felt two soft globs at the back of my head and leaned back as I closed my eyes.

Her soft hands combing through my hair bringing relief, and making it gently wash over me.

"You are learning very quick for someone your age." said Arthas.

"Says the boy who speaks and moves like a man." replied Lyanna. Her words bringing a round of melodious laughter.

"Still my lord, you seemed troubled for someone who fought like a legend." asked Sif as she began unbuckling his greeves.

"I acted rash in there. So immersed deeply into the heat of battle that I ended up taunting my enemy, more so than I should have."

"Oh...."

"My love...?" asked Lyanna.

"I may have just made things worst, Lyanna. There children in this camp, most of them are...."

"And if they can't get to you they would try to reach for them. That's what you are afraid of." supplied Cersei as she removes his gauntlets.

"Yes, it is." Arthas turned to Sif. "The kids knows the rules?"

"Yes my lord."

"Their clothes."

"Affixed with hoods, full hardened leather. At all times."

"Daggers underneath the pillow."

"Yes my lord."

"Their tutelage in their use."

"Overseen by Mordred herself my lord."

"Buckets of water."

"Safe and tucked right underneath their beds. And has been instructed. In case of fire. Pour it over themselves and run to your tent."

"Their locations."

"Every tent now surrounds yours my lord. Making it easily accessible."

"My squires, the men and the mothers-"

"Are to be present in your absence."

*sigh* "...good... That is good." *sigh*

'I can't do everything. I can show them the way but everything will be up to them in the end.....what a good way to console yourself of the problem you made Arthas.....way to go you over excited dumb fuck....'

~~~ 3rd person POV ~~~

While Arthas was berating himself for his childish stupidity. The girls happily shared a laugh at his actions. While Sif and Lyanna couldn't help but fall in love with him even more. Cersei was feeling lost on things as she is happy.

His actions were nothing short of caring. And by how it was worded. She could tell he would be fighting at the front lines instead of leading them from behind. This went against everything she had learned from her father. And she is baffled by it.

'A lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.'

The words of her father echoed through her mind. But a question keeps popping out of it. Why. Sheep are food, in their absence they would starve. So why shouldn't the Lion care? When he is the one to benefit the most from them after all.

Cersei shook the words out of her mind. Her father had proven himself right. There was just no way he would lead her astray now.

Despite Cersei's attempt at staying loyal to her father's doctrine, her wavering faith was only beginning.

Arthas himself is fully aware of the amount of inner struggle he will be inflicting upon the girl. But to him, if she could waver, then she could be swayed and that was the idea. Again he blame himself for his soft heartedness. He had seen what the little girl could possibly become, and the pain she felt, she inflicted unto others a thousand fold no matter who got caught up in it.

And he was not willing to allow her madness to take over. Because he knew, he would cut her down if he has to.

'You would not know love without hate. For you could not have one without the other.' Arthas thought before he felt a soft kiss in his forehead, to his cheek, and then a soft one to his lips and he then fell asleep from the ministration of his ladies.

Once Arthas was secured on his bed. Sif decided to address the other two.

"Come, there is much to be done and more for you to learn."

The two followed and was led to the training field where Mordred was seen training. Her movements were a copy of one of Arthas' own sword style. Swift, sharp, strong and brutal.

Her training showed as each of her swing leaves a small gust in the wind as if she was guiding them. Her form was low and steady, with a firm and wide footing. The twist of her body flowed smoothly with each strike and her feral smile made her a fearsome foe, but beautiful no less.

Taking a breath after a powerful strike she then turned to the new occupants.

"Done having your fun with our Lord?" she asked with a wide smile.

But Sif was not having any of it. "I told you to join us. It's not gonna be our fault if you got too embarrassed at acting out your wishes and was left behind."

Mordred flushed red and yelled. "Shut up!"

"Honestly Mordred, above all of us here. You would have most likely been his preferred companion." said Sif in exasperation.

"...you think so..."

"I know what I heard, and I wasn't lying to any of you. He prefers a strong woman with thicc thighs strong enough to squeeze the life out of him. That is what he said or mumbled out...I don't think he knew he voiced that out."

"We received a free insight, I see no reason to complain whether he knew or not." said Cersei.

"She isn't wrong. Now!" said Lyanna as she turned to Sif. "You said there is a way to better our progress in this course. What would be our next step?" she asked as a competitive fire lit up within her.

"Alright, so I was able to sneak out a plethora of exercises from our Lord but we'll start with the most basic, Squats. So here is what we do..."

"But before that... I need to know." Cersei then turned to Lyanna. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"I mean why even go through this. You are clearly in the lead. He favors you-"

"And yet he can't stop glancing at you!!!" Lyanna suddenly yelled. "You think I want this? If I could kill you now I would. If it meant keeping him to myself I would. But I can't! I don't have the stomach to do something like that. So this is it...this is it!!! My solution is this! Some idiot solution stacked on me proving myself the PERFECT choice! I will show him that I deserve him. As much as I will show you!"

Everyone was too stunned to speak. So Lyanna continued.

".....I love him, I believe I do. But everytime I bring it up. His answer is 'You don't know me as much as you think you do.' so I question myself. Who do I love, truly? The him that I barely knew? Or the him that I imagine him to be."

"I haven't hated anything about him till you and your golden hair and bright green eyes came along. There is something about you that he finds equally intriguing as he did me. But I won't deny it. I want to rip your hair out and gauge out your eyes every time he would look lost in them."

"You are beautiful Cersei. How exactly do I comepete with that...tell me?"

After a moment of hesitation Cersei answered. "You have his heart, isn't that what you were hoping for?"

"Haha...hahahahaha....*sniff* I want all of him...*hic!*"

~~~ Break ~~~

Tywin sat behind his desk at his tent. Despite his calm demeanor, his inner struggle weighed heavily upon the old Lion's mind. His worry is and has been centered around a certain boy for a long time now.

Maturity coupled with a sharp mind, an ancient treasure at hand, and skills that easily outmatch the best the Seven Kingdoms could offer.

This is what made Arthas such an enticing prospect for House Lannister. But by the time he had finally made up his mind and sent his daughter, his fears had been confirmed. And the Starks had taken the lead.

Unfortunately he can't just give up on the boy. As he is too good of an offer to be true. And so despite the obvious loss. He had sent his daughter to do her best to sway the boy into their favor.

It appears to have been working as the girl is making great progress based on what his spies had seen. But still, time is running short for him and without his daughter he remained vulnerable to political negotiations.

What made it worst was the fact that the other possibilities of marriage is closed off to his son aside from The Tullys.

But he needed allies. And he needed them now! If his spies were even partially truthful, then the Mad King has set his eyes once more on House Lannister.

He knew that the boy's performance was a huge factor into it. As fear obviously gripped the Targaryen bastard. But Tywin is also aware that Aerys has gotten a taste of a forbidden fruit and he learned to like it.

Banishing a great name like Arthur Dayne from the Kingsguard was exactly that. And he learned that he can get away with it. Now his spies had confirmed that Aerys is berating his advisors for not finding any legal means to destroy his house. And his patience is reaching it's limits.

"...you under estimate the things the mind can conjure in the eve of madness, Lord Tywin."

The words of Arthas echoed trough his ears. But shook it off as this was no time to be blaiming himself. The tent opened up for his guest and was greeted by Brynden Blackfish Tully.

"Lord Tywin." he said with a bow.

"Ser Tully, have you come to an answer?" asked Tywin.

"Aye, my brother approves with the following concessions." said Brynden as he handed over a scroll.

Tywin opened the letter without preamble and could easily read the greed in the old fish's words. It was a winning offer to Tywin as he was losing only a small amount of gold. But he has no intention of letting House Tully get wind of that so he made a show of thinking over the letter for a few minutes. Afterwards he gave his answer.

"This is agreeable. I will sign this with your word that the day of the wedding will be followed and not a day later." said Tywin.

Brynden nodded as he answered. "Lord Tully expressed his agreement."

"Very well. I shall inform my son of his upcoming wedding. I hope for him to meet his bride to be. How soon can this be arranged?"

"Lysa Tully is in Harrenhal Lord Tywin. I will have her prepped and presented come morning."

"Then we have an agreement." said Tywin as he signed the parchment and extended his hand.

Brynden clasped it and shook before taking the letter and his leave. Tywin then left the tent and turned to his brother standing by the side.

"Bring Jamie here." he said as he returned back to the tent.

There is a lot happening and happening too fast for Tywin's liking. Leaving little chances for preparations and alternatives. But there is one thing he must conclude soon and that is protection from the crown. And aligning himself with the House that would most likely earn themselves a power house would be a boon to the Lannisters.

With the West and the North bridged by the Riverlands. And by extension it's friendship with the Vale. The four of them would be able to show a powerful front. But with the recent scuffle with the Stormlands and the Vale he must act as a form of assurance. He only need secure one of the two.

'Perhaps Elbert Arryn and Cersei... if she fails it would be a promising alternative prospect at the very least.'

Jamie walked in to the tent led by Kevan and surprisingly Genna Frey formerly Lannister.

"Genna." he greeted with a hug

"Tywin..." she said softly.

"You are looking awful sister."

"It's the stress of living with those cunts. I assure you my fangs are sharp as before."

"As are your wits I heard."

"You keeping an eye on me brother?"

"For family...yes." he said stoicly. But even Genna could feel the old man's affection.

He then turned to his son. "Sit."

Jamie gulped out of fear. He doesn't know why but he knew his father is far from pleased with his stunt with the white cloak. Jaime sat at the lone chair his father has indicated. And sat there waiting as his father circled him in silence. Like a lion circling it's prey.

"In three days time you will be wed to Lysa Tully. And unite the West with the Riverlands and in extension the North."

"But-"

"You wanna say something clever? Go on, say something clever."

Jaime hesitated but answer no less. "...The white cloak would have given our name honor."

"Honor? You wouldn't be a knight boy, you would be a hostage! You are a Lannister, my son and heir! And with every day they held you hostage the less our name commands respect!"

"I thought the lion does concern himself with the opi-"

"No! that's not an opinion it's a fact!...If another house could hold one of our own, with impunity! We are no longer a house to feared..."

Seeing that his son is listening Tywin pushed on. "your mother is dead. And before long I'd be dead. Then you, and your brother and your sister and all of your children. All of us dead. All of us rotting in the ground. It's the family name that lives on. It's all that lives on. Not your personal glory, not your honor but family. So you understand?"

Jamie simply sent a small nod.

"You're blessed with abilities few possess, even fewer could surpass. You're blessed to belong to one of the most powerful family in the kingdoms. And you're still blessed with youth. And what would you have done with your blessings huh? To serve as a glorified body guard to a falling line. The father a mad man and his son just as so."

Tywin then approached Jamie and spoke softly. "The future of our family will be determined in this next few months. We could endure as the dynasty that had ruled the West and last a thousand years or we could collapse into nothing as the Targaryens will."

His words struck fear, horror and concern to everyone present. But Tywin continued.

"I need you to become the man you were always meant to be. Not next year, not tomorrow, now."

Jaime felt lost. And Tywin understood why. His son is but a boy, still young with his head still stuck chasing the word glory. But time is no longer on their side. Seeing his son's indecision, he nodded his head outside of the tent. And Jamie walked out with the weight upon his shoulders slowly setting in.

"Tywin..." spoke Genna.

"You, sister. Will be joining me back home. Make up whatever excuse you could but let Old Walder Frey know that I will remind him who's family you came from if he denied you leave."

"Thank you Tywin." she said with a smile.

"You are family. And that is what I want around me when the time comes."

~~~ Break ~~~

Jaime walked around the Harrenhal with no true destination in mind. His father's words circling his thoughts relentlessly. And his mind continued to come up with only two answers.

'I am not ready.' and 'I don't want it.'

Even as a child he knew he didn't want his father's responsibility. He wanted to fight. To wield his sword as he fights for honor and glory. He imagined himself with the likes of Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy and even grew to worship the tales of Aemon The Dragonknight.

It was all he wanted. Not this. Not this political manuevering. Not this daggered words and unspoken threats. He wanted to be able to face a man have them decide their fate with steel in their hands. That is what he wanted.

But now all of that hope was dashed away. And what made it worst was that his better half was not with him to comfort him from the pain. They had a plan. He is to be Kingsguard so that they may still be together once she becomes the queen. Everyone knows that Elia Martell is dying. Even he could see it. All they had to do was wait. But now...

His thoughts were snapped as he heard her voice. He looked around to find her. Only to lose her in the crowed.

Again he walked aimlessly wandering how to get out of this problem. How to walk away from his father's burden. Until he heard her again. He rushed to the sound and found her accompanied by three other women.

He recognized the one they called the Northern Princess. Walking with a sword and dagger at her waist. But it wasn't just her. Another girl that looks so much like a Lannister has a sheathed longsword at her hand. The tallest amongs them is a blonde haired blue eyed woman has two short swords dangling at her waist to her back, blocking her swollen ass. But what surprised him the most is her sister, The Cersei Lannister with a thin looking sword at her waist at and three thin daggers dangling at her waist at the back.

(AN: Rapier and stiletto daggers for Cersei)

All of them are turning heads as they walked. Not just for their weapons which were obviously of high quality. But also for their beauty. There is a charm to them that is not ignored. Even more so for the oldest of them who has the body that is envied by women and desired by men.

Jamie shook off the thought from his head and followed them. It didn't take long for him to be led to their camp and finally realized whos it was.

Just at the front of the camp, Arthur Dayne could be seen giving pointers to Eddard Stark as they exchanged blades. A small gathering of crowed were watching, mostly knights hoping for glimpses of teachings that may spill in their direction.

But what caught Jamie's attention the most is the young boy, said be only a year younger than him, fighting off five men with great ease. Each one obviously a Northerner.

It was awe inspiring to Jamie. He had seen him fight of course. Father had said that the boy is one in every hundred years to ever make an appearance in history. To his jelousy and admiration, Jamie had began associating Arthas with his Idol, Aemon The Dragonknight.

After winning, with the men sweating and panting and The Unclaimed Bastard standing tall, he suddenly turned towards his direction.

Jamie was startled, he is after all deep into the crowed yet he could tell that Arthas' eyes were fixed on him. Arthas smiled in welcome and actually ushered him in.

But he could not move. 'that is not your life anymore.' a voice in his head said. He wanted to retaliate and say no but again he couldn't deny it. Seconds pass in inner turmoil and he couldn't come up with something to say back. Because deep down he knew it. 'it was just a fleeting dream.' the voice said.

"Jamie?"

He looked up to see the confused and worried face of his idol. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help but admire his beauty. But he knew he could never stand beside the likes of him. And so he walked away in sadness. Back to what he knew would be the only future for him. Back to the life he had already grown to hate.