1 Chapter 1

CROWNLANDS, DUSKENDALE, 294AC

JASPER

Sweat cascaded down his face as his eyes locked onto his armored opponent across the field. Doing his best to ignore the blaring noise from the large body of spectators, Jasper Blaze inhaled and exhaled before he reared his auburn destrier and took off. He raised a tightly gripped shield in front of his body with his left hand and held a slightly worn lance with his right. The life of watching his father ride while redefining the art of jousting instilled a sense of discipline in him. With that, both body and intention remained set until the right moment for him to adjust. His opponent, a knight by the name of Richard Redwyne was getting closer, with his shield in a similar position. As soon as they got within five feet of each other, Jasper slightly lowered his lance to give him the impression that he was aiming to strike his chest. Jasper's eyes remained on Ser Richard rather than the other knight's lance to avoid the frightening visage of it coming straight for his head, a mistake often made by green boys when entering jousts. But Jasper was no green boy, as he planned to remind everyone there. In response to his lowered weapon, Ser Richard made no adjustment to his shield's position, probably thinking that that is where the blow will land; he couldn't be more wrong. By the time Jasper's lance drew back up towards his helmet, Ser Richard was unable to block the blow. 

'CLANG'

Jasper rode along past the knight who hurtled to the dirt unceremoniously, his helmet surprisingly remained on his head. The spectators gave no shortage of roaring acclamation to the now three-time jousting champion. He had his horse come to a stop near the stands, not very far from where stood the large form of King Robert of the House Baratheon. Jasper stepped off and knelt before the current monarch while removing his helmet. Brown, but damp shoulder length hair shaped his oval face and uncovered his light brown eyes. The beginning of a five o'clock shadow was shown on his visage along with the ever-present heritage of the Andals. He rose is head to the king and lord of the Seven Kingdoms.

"You win any more of these tourneys, I'll have to start taxing you for reparations for all this prize coin, man!" Robert shouted down to Jasper, who grinned in response. The king merely chuckled and turned his attention to the crowd and made his voice heard.

"LET US HEAR IT ONCE MORE FOR YOUR CHAMPION, JASPER BLAZE!"

Jasper threw a charming smile at the masses and the king before standing up and performed a quick bow. As the youngest knight to come out victorious against eight knights in a row was an extraordinary achievement and Jasper would cement that fact in history.

"I once again find myself thanking you for allowing me to compete, lest my winning streak becomes spoiled, Your Grace. I'll be sure to expedite my attempts in keeping the Crown in debt with each victory" Jasper remarked with mocking malice that had the king laugh some more, and a slightly worried look appeared on the face of the King's hand Jon Arryn, which went unnoticed. 

"I have no doubt you will. Heh, take your winnings before I change my mind, damn you! SELMY! Make sure this man has his coin before he returns home. 

The man in question stood not far behind the king, wearing the full white regal synonymous with those of the Kingsguard. Ser Barristan Selmy, their esteemed Lord Commander gave King Robert a nod.

"Right away, Your Grace. Meet me near the tents outside once you finish cleaning up, Ser Jasper.

The young man gave a brief nod and walked off towards the direction of his temporary quarters. The nearly hundred-pound armor he wore did him no favors as far as feeling like he was dragging along a siege weapon by his lonesome. It made Jasper relieved that the melee was forgone this time by order of the king. The sun gazed upon the entire port town relentlessly with its sweltering heat, conditions that stifles almost every man in armor. However, this heat or any heat for that matter provided a sense of alleviation to Jasper in a way that only he could understand. It has always remained that way ever since that *night.

Chewing on a loaf while counting the contents of the medium sized pouch full of prize money, Jasper was sitting down in his tent until he heard someone approaching and flipping open the canvas. 

"You won't mind sharing, will you boy? The trip back home won't be free after all." A seasoned voice joked at him, belonging to a middle-aged knight. Blond hair in the stages of losing its color with a well-trimmed beard, Ser Tyler Whent, younger brother of Oswell and the Lady of Harrenhall, leaned his body against the wooden pole that held up the tent outside the castle with his hand customarily on the pommel of his blade. Jasper, of course, was not worried as he's held disciplined stature his whole life. He glanced up at the knight.

"Not a chance, old man. You should have joined the lists like you said you would. What's the matter, didn't fancy your chances against your squire?" Jasper taunted Ser Tyler, who raised an eyebrow in response to his 'disrespect'. Honestly, the old man should have been used to this behavior, especially with this one.

"Is that how you speak to the man who may be knighting you one day? And to answer your question, I am still more than capable of having you eat dirt. Gods be good, not even your father was this cocky-no, I take that back; he was just as cocky." Ser Tyler sighed with a hint of amusement, and Jasper couldn't help but to smile a little at that. He folded his hands as he reminisced on life before. The "Deadman" they used to called Farlan Blaze, riding with a certain tenacity that only men possessed when it came to tourneys. Too stylish for his own good, treating the life and death aspect of combat as a jest, as if his own life couldn't be taken in the grips of the Stranger if he dodged a second late or telegraphed the swing of his blade. It used to keep him at the edge of his seat with fear, but excited as well. Unfortunately, while he died in the field, the nature of his demise wasn't so glorious. 

'Guess he finally lived up to his title 'Deadman'. Jasper couldn't help but to think morbidly. Shaking his head, he picked up his coin and placed it into his satchel. Picking up the sack of his belongings while sheathing his castle-forged steel in his scabbard, Jasper made his way out of the tent towards the horses with Ser Tyler following. 

"Cocky is too short of a word to describe my father, Ser Tyler. You of all people should know that."

The knight chortled as they walked towards the small force of guards surrounded by several horses that accompanied them on their journey to the crownlands, ordered by the old lady. 

"Indeed, I do. However, the point I am making is that as my squire, it would do well to display some amount of humility. A quality that many could do with here. Something I wish Farlan had more of. Bah, enough of the past. I am sure my sister is counting the days till we return to that accursed castle of hers. Can't say I missed laying eyes on blackened heap."

Tyler turned to the guards as they mounted their horses and Jasper, and he did the same. 

"Let's ride!"

Kicking up dust, Tyler's horse led the small unit of men on the long way back home, his squire right beside him.

______________________________________________________

RIVERLANDS, HARRENHAL, 294AC 

'It's good I managed to win this year's tournament. The price for accommodations in these lands should be considered flagrant theft.'

Jasper shook his pouch of prize coin, which felt slightly lighter than it had been at Duskendale. It took a little over a fortnight to arrive near the castle, the Inns charging more coin the closer they rode deeper into the Riverlands. Despite this, Jasper Blaze was happy to be home, as were some of the men with him. As they were closing in on the castle entrance, members of the garrison tensed before recognizing him and Ser Tyler wearing his house sigil before letting them through. Broken, but hardened mortar lined the walls with hardly an unbroken ceiling in sight as the entourage trotted within the castle. There was almost not anyone alive that wasn't made aware of this castle's ill history. The largest castle in Westeros, built from vain and cruelty by an equally vain and cruel man. Laborers were killed in the process and was finally finished on the same day that the self-proclaimed king Harren Hoare defied Aegon the Dragon. The fool and his kin were repaid with extinction by dragonfire, which resulted in Harrenhal's current desecrated state. Of course, sieges from the wars and rebellions within the last three hundred years have not improved its condition. Broken stone and roots from trees long dead are strewn across the grown but have become the norm for young Jasper Blaze as he's lived here his entire life. Once they arrived in the outer ward, he led the horses to the stables while Ser Tyler asked for Lady Whent's whereabouts. He got the last of them settled into their stalls, he was on his way out before his eyes caught on the very last stall, fortified with chains. The steed within it was different from any other horse he laid eyes on, coated in obsidian with a rare set of yellow irises. Adding his distinctive feature of making no sound other than its occasional snort, the horse dubbed Vairon by the late Farlan Blaze was reminiscent of the black cats that were told to bring bad luck. The symbolism only became apparent to Jasper after the accident that took his father's life and attempted to put a lot of distance between them, but to no avail. The black steed would escape its makeshift imprisonment to find his way to Jasper, should he be away longer than necessary. The evidence of past broken stall doors and snapped chain links did nothing to diminish his apprehension and only pondered more on his origins, especially that unnatural strength of his. Questions that would have to be addressed another time as he was summoned outside the stables. Jasper walked back to Ser Tyler and watched as a woman within her late fifties flanked by castle guards were riding into the outer ward towards them. Once she got off her horse, Jasper and Ser Tyler bowed their heads.

"Lady Shella."

"My Lady."

The Lady of Harrenhal responded with an upward turn of lips.

"It pleases me that you both arrived safely. A month away is a month too long for me, unfortunately. Walk with me."

Once she ordered her men to attend to their other duties, Jasper and Tyler followed her as they headed in the direction of the Godswood. Lady Shella folded her hands as her gown slightly billowed.

"Your exploits at Duskendale have reached her rather quickly, even before my brother sent me the raven telling of your victory. I suppose congratulations are in order." Lady Shella started off with, which Jasper swelled with a bit of pride. 

"You honor me, My Lady. My victories would mean more if you graced us with your appearance. You would still put some of the self-proclaimed 'maidens' back in the Crownlands to shame, despite being in your…advanced years," The young man bravely joked and the Lady of Harrenhal took it in stride. This lapse of decorum was welcomed in private as evident to Ser Tyler snorting and smacking the back of his head in response, which Jasper dodged unsuccessfully. 

"You hear this, Tyler? Your squire has been home for barely a moment and already he has referred to me as old. Did he forget I can still give him a good thrashing like I did you when you were around his age?"

"Aye I haven't forgotten, sweet sister. Looks like more time in the yard will set him to rights," Ser Tyler responded while glancing at his squire, who shrugged.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that, only after I get in a good soak in the bath house. Some of those inns left a lot to be desired, unfortunately."

"…Indeed, and to your answer question," Lady Shella began. "My duties along with the short garrison to man the castle won't allow me to get out as much as I'd like. I've been trying to spare coin for new recruits, but not so many are eager to guard a castle so ill-reputed. I'm lucky with the lot I have now."

Both Ser Tyler and Jasper furrowed their brows in contemplation. Of course, it was only natural to be weary of Harrenhal, its cursed nature known to all. 

"I would ask the crown for any assistance they can provide, but King Robert made his wariness of our house known back when I was summoned to swear fealty all those years ago. I would be foolish to assume my late goodbrother's part in the rebellion has not diminished that opinion. I was lucky to remain the Lady of Harrenhal, but I don't doubt it was considered a punishment on his part. Who would want to lord over such a place?"

"Well, I have to say, My Lady," Ser Tyler replied while glancing around. "You're alright so far. Cursed nature aside, the castle's done nothing to hinder your ward's growth. Though we'll have crack down some these walls to make room to host that big head of his." 

"Very funny, Ser. I reckon my head is exactly the size that it needs to be," Jasper responded while rolling his eyes as Lady Shella chuckled softly.

"As much as I would love to hear more, I must finish setting up for the feast later tonight," Lady Shella sighed as they reached far enough within the godswood. She turned her head towards Ser Tyler and slowly nodded her head. "I leave you to inform him of the occasion. Freshen up afterwards, I can only stand the stench for so long." The Lady of Harrenhal made her way towards the inner castle leaving the two alone. Jasper turned to the knight.

"…Assuming this something I was left out of, what occasion is she referring to? She mentioned a feast, but she did not have t-"

Before he could finish, Ser Tyler cut him off.

"Kneel."

"…What?"

"Kneel, Jasper Blaze. I'm tired and hungry, and that hardly leaves any patience."

Jasper sighed and kneeled before the knight. He wasn't sure what was happening until Ser Tyler unsheathed his blade and laid the edge in a downward manner until it was mere inches away from his right shoulder. He could barely hear his next words through the pounding in his chest.

"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." The blade moved to the left "In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just." Then back to right. "In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent." Ser Tyler slid his blade back into his sheath. He looked at Jasper whose eyes were widened. "Arise, Jasper Blaze, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms. 

Jasper slowly got to his feet, his slight shake failing to otherwise go unnoticed by the knight of Harrenhal. After a moment of silence, he looked up with eyes filled with a newly gathered resolve.

"I won't let you down, Ser. I swear on the bones of my father." He said to him, gripping the pommel of his blade. Ser Tyler nodded after a moment.

"…I'll hold you to that. Now come, Ser Jasper," Ser Tyler slapped a hand on the recently dubbed knight's shoulder, a grin forming on his face as they made their way out of the Godswood. "I have it on good authority that an abundance of salmon will be brought to the hall tonight."

"Well, we certainly can't miss that, can we?"