I arrived at Harrenhal to a completely different sight. It felt like I was in an entirely different place. I had my weapons in my inventory, for the sake of appearances, I had my axe on my back, my daggers and my principe sword on my waist and my throwing knives safely kept in a leather strap all across my torso.
I had a simple, brown coloured armour made of hardened leather, black pants and a plain white shirt. I didn't look much tough if one were too look at my attire.. Until they saw the sheer amount of weapons on me.
I rode my horse across the streets bustling with visitors from all over westeros. Lords and ladies of houses both minor and major could be seen prancing around, looking at the stalls set up by merchants selling all things exotic and rare.
I handed over my horse to the stable boy at the castle who knew me well and walked around for a while. I talked to the locals while I observed the nobles and their guards.
'How easy it'll be for me to kill them and simply walk away without being found out.'
It was just a fleeting thought and flee it did. I wasn't there to kill. For four long years, I had killed hundreds of bandits. I always aimed for the kill and never played around with them. I never tested their skills and nor did I show mercy. Every swing of my weapon was meant to cripple or kill.
'Guess I'll just do the same in the tourney as well. Hopefully no one dies at my hands. I don't want a noble calling for my head. It'll make my future in Westeros... Difficult to say the least. I could always go the Essos, or Yi Ti. But I know next to nothing about them. Essos is just.. Slavery and fighting and whoring. I don't want any STDs. Plus, I abhore slavery. Yi Ti, it could be like Asian civilization. I doubt they deal with Westeros though.'
As I went from tavern to tavern, I couldn't find any that had a room availible.
"Oi! Hunter brat!"
I turned around to look for the person calling.
"Oi!"
Out of the crowd emerged the butcher whom I sold most of the animal carcasses.
"Donald!"
Donald was a big, blonde man with tiny hands and a big, pendulus belly. I pitied his petite wife.
"Brat! You seem lost in the hustle and bustle of this darn tourney! You back to sell more of your prey?"
I shook my head and replied, "No, I'm here to participate in the melee. I was trying to find a place to stay in, but, all the taverns seem full."
Donald widened his eyes and exclaimed, "Hoo! You're participatin'? Darn! Those feathery nobles won't know what'll hit 'em! Even Mel will let me bet this time! Ha! I'm going to win some stags!"
He smacked my back as he laughed joyously. No one in Harrenhal was unaware of my feats. Plus, most of them had a good impression of me.
"You want a place to stay? You canstay at my house! Mel and Eric will love to have ya as the guest! Perhaps, Eric will learn something from ya! That useless twit just sits on his arse all darn day and stuffs his mouth with food. Seeing ya will put some sense into his dumb noggin!"
Donald, Mel and Eric... I certainly had a belly aching laugh when I learnt of that. Nature truely had a sense of humor. Plus, this Donald also thought of his son, Eric, as a useless piece of shit.
"Sure! Thanks, Donald."
"Hah! You're going to make me rich! Stay for as long as ya like!"
He escorted me to his home and we talked for a while about different ways of cooking meat and how to tell if a piece of meat was of good quality or not. He allowed me to enter his home and I was greeted warmly by Mel.
Meanwhile...
"Eric, ya dastardly brat! There's a fuckin' guest in yer house and ya just want to suff yourself like a darn pig!"
In response, Eric just burped, scratched his big fat belly and resumed snoring.
Donald sighed in defeat and said, "I don't know what to do with him. He doesn't even want to learn how to butcher meat! I won't be doing it for my entire life, darn it!"
Mel placated him by whispering sweet nothings to the man.
"Hah.. You always know what to say, Mel. Allan! Ya better find yerself a woman like Mel! I'm tellin' ya! She's a beast in the sack!"
I cringed away from the man while Mel smacked his arm, scolding him for being indecent in front of a guest. Donald simply laughed and escorted me to my room.
I slept well that night after we had a hearty dinner.
I woke up on the next day before sunrise and did my workout to warm my body up. It was finally, the day of the tourney.
I left before Donald and his family woke up and reached the makeshift arena where the melee was going to be held. Some participants were already there and were checking the weapons on the racks while some talked amongst each other.
I walked to the men with the list of participants and they immediately recognized me as they were Whent men.
"Hunter! Lord Whent himself told us to enter your name. Here! You're in the fourth bracket. There are so many participants! We had to make sixteen brackets of twenty men each!"
I nodded and looked at the list of names. There weren't any famous ones that I could recall.
"I wish you luck, hunter! Go, win yourself some dragons today!"
I nodded again and left to choose my weapon. One by one, I checked the long swords for ther build and balance and selected the one that fit me the best.
Slowly, the stands began to fill while I waited, snacking on some venison jerky that I had made myself.
The nobles arrived, people cheered and the celebrations finally began.
The men in the first bracket arrive in the grounds and after being prompted by Whent, the melee rounds were started.
That day I witnessed a melee for the very first time. It reminded me of the 'Royal Rumble', only, with swords and spears. The only way of losing was by giving up or being knocked out.
If I had one word to describe the melee, it would be 'chaos'.
The sun was over the head when it was my turn to enter the field. I got up and stretched my muscles, swung the sword by moving my wrist and felt the weight.
'It's not perfect, but, better than others.'
I entered the field along with my victims. The people in the stands cheered again and I could see that the Starks and Baratheon had also arrived to witness the melee.
'So, Whent told them, huh?'
As Whent rose from his seat, his eyes scanned through the group of fighters and lingered on me for a moment. He raised his hand that held a flagon of wine and declared, "Start the melee!"
A bugle horn was sounded...
'Game on.'
(ACJTF)
A/N: ... Some of you thought some hanky panky was going to happen between MC and Mel, right? So predictable...