[Edric's POV]
A hand shook me awake - Arthur's hand, I realised rather quickly.
"You've overslept, Your Grace."
I felt groggy, despite Arthur's statement.
"By how much?"
"Not by much. I didn't want to disturb your rest, but you have quite a number of duties to attend to today… such as breaking your fast with Lord Arryn and his future wife."
I rubbed my eyes.
"Give me a moment."
"Of course."
As Arthur departed, I was left with my thoughts.
I had no way of knowing if that was the real Daenerys or not so I had been winging it and acting as if my 'invasion' was intentional. If it wasn't real, then… what is that even called? A schizo dream? You think you're connecting with someone real in a dream, yet it turns out to be an illusion of your own creation…
Perhaps it was a lucid dream of sorts.
Or a Green Dream… yet those are supposed to be prophetic by nature.
If it were real, perhaps I could harness that ability and invade people's dreams intentionally. Now that would be quite the power. A vassal is acting up? I pull up to his dreams and scare the ever-living shit out of him.
Though, it's greatest use would be with people from even greater distances. Sending letters from King's Landing to Mereen is a logistical nightmare, even for the almost magical ravens of this world. It would take multiple ravens across the Free Cities to reach Slaver's Bay, which would drastically increase the chances of something going awry.
The only person who could manage that effectively would be Varys…
"That was the genuine Daenerys," Raiden remarked.
"... How would you know?" I questioned.
"I can discern between reality and illusion, seeing the truth in all things. Though the stage itself was an illusion, your spirits were not."
"Uh-oh." I stroked my chin. "That makes matters quite interesting... but where were you to see it?"
"I have my ways."
Either I made Daenerys want to cook me even more, or actually consider my alliance. You never know with these Targaryens. Then again, who am I to call a person unpredictable?
Well, I shouldn't keep Harold waiting too long.
I swiftly got dressed, not giving too much mind in what I was wearing.
Not too long after, I walked into the dining hall, and everyone instantly rose to their feet. It was the usual family gathering, except Lord Harrold and his soon-to-be-wife was part of it.
"You look like you just rolled out of bed a few moments ago." Arya chuckled.
"I mean no offence, Your Grace, but you have seen better days." Harrold Arryn added.
"Still better than every other man's best day." I boasted with confidence, though it was intended as a jest.
"While confidence is good and well, it cannot mask the truth. I thought I had taught you better..." Renly mused with a slight grin. "Mayhaps I should have the servants tidy you up."
"I came here to eat, not look pretty." I replied, shaking my head. "Though I appreciate either gesture, uncle, I can tend to myself."
"Growing boys tend to be quite rebellious…" Renly remarked under his breath, sighing.
"I see no issue." Stannis countered. "His Grace looks well enough. If he spent half as much time on his looks as you do, nothing would get done."
"Says the dullest man in the Red Keep." Renly chuckled.
"Enough about my appearance, I'm starving."
I walked over to my seat next to Arya and sat down. Everyone followed suit. I didn't waste much time with the chicken in front of me, ripping away a sizeable part of its wing with my teeth.
"Even I did not imagine the Grand Tournament to be so great a spectacle," Harrold remarked, changing the topic. "Those foreigners, albeit insolent and dishonourable, have provided a stage for your Kingsguard to shine even more brilliantly."
"All in your honour, Lord Arryn." I raised a cup of water to him.
"Hahaha, I can't help but feel that my own marriage has been overshadowed by it." Harrold jested, shaking his head with a clear smile.
"When the brilliant Lord of the Vale walks the altar beside his beautiful wife, the tournament will be but a passing memory," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "Men prefer to live in the moment, after all. Besides, the glory and prestige of the Grand Tournament is in great part thanks to you."
"You honour me, Your Grace." Harrold bowed his head an angle lower. "I do have a mind to join the lists, if you would allow it."
"Why wouldn't I?" I chuckled.
"I thought it might be improper to participate as I am a host."
"May the best man win, I say." I shook my head. "Wouldn't it be a grand affair, besting every knight in your path and naming your wife-to-be as the queen of love and beauty?"
"That is precisely why I asked, Your Grace."
Harrold's confident reply had certainly taken his fiance, who blushed silently. To be in love...
I smiled.
"Albeit quite unlikely," Renly remarked, shrugging. "I believe Ser Loras would seek to outperform even his standards."
"There is no dishonour in losing to the finest lance in the Seven Kingdoms," Harrold replied rather humbly.
"Will you be in the lists as well, Your Grace?" Sansa questioned.
"Of course." I firmly nodded. "I won't just be attending, however. I am determined to be the joust's champion."
"In which case, you'll take my favour," Arya added, glaring at me. I don't think she took kindly to me wearing Margaery's...
"Naturally."
"The lists just got more exciting." Harrold remarked, eating his food with grace. "I heard word of a potential journey North after my marriage... is it true?"
"Aye, I will need to inspect the Wall's defences and settle an upcoming wildling invasion." I nodded.
"In which case, the Knights of the Vale would be thrilled to offer their swords in your name."
"Though I am honoured by the gesture, that will not be necessary." I shook my head. "The time it will take to gather your banners will be too long. Also, the Wall would only need a thousand men to repel any sort of Wildling invasion, which the North most certainly has. It would be a waste of resources."
"I see that you are eager to serve, Lord Harrold, but His Grace and the North's banners should be enough to trample on any wildling army," Renly added. "Rather, you should save your time and men, enjoy the blisful begginings of your marriage."
"I do not know how I would feel knowing that my King is freezing in the North and facing the Realm's enemies while I sit still in the Vale." Harrold countered, taking a sincere and loyal tone as he placed his hand on his chest.
"My uncle is right; you should be at ease. Matter of fact, that is a command. You'd best not leave the Vale, nor your wife's side." I smiled, pointing at the couple. "By the time I return from the North, you better have an heir on the way."
"Your Grace..." Ysilla Royce blushed bashfully.
"I..." Harrold looked surprised for a moment before chuckling. "As you wish, Your Grace."
"Good."
The topic stayed on the North as I had my fill. Sansa had asked if she could come with me, and I agreed to it. After all, the North was her birthplace and where much of her family lived. It would be a Stark reunion.
Naturally, Arya was even more enthusiastic - especially about going to the Wall. Undoubtedly, she missed Jon Snow most of all.
After breaking my fast, I discovered Princess Arianne camping my path. Not literally, of course, but she was clearly waiting for me with a smug expression. Something had made her exceptionally joyful today.
"What has you looking so pleased?"
"You should thank me, Your Grace. I made lady Margaery depart for Highgarden."
I raised an eyebrow. What is she up to?
"In essence, we made a bet on the duel between my uncle and that silver-head. The loser would have to leave your presence for a year."
"... Is that so?" I looked surprised. The ends these women would go to belittle each other...
"You ladies play too many games."
"Try to be more honest, Your Grace. You must be quite pleased to see that treacherous woman out of your sight."
"On the contrary, it makes little difference. I wager that I'll be doing a lot of traveling in the next year."
"I am curious as to where."
"First, to the North... then mayhaps the Summer Isles. At some point, I have a mind to complete a royal progression across the entire Realm."
"Sunspear would eagerly have you." Arianne smiled. "One place that you must see is the Water Gardens. The heat would melt all your worries away and the water would wash them out of sight. It is Dorne's paradise."
"After freezing myself so far up North, I'd probably need some heat in my life." I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. "I'll consider it, Arianne. Besides that, I take it you won't be going North, will you?"
"The North is no place for a princess of Dorne." Arianne admitted, shaking her head. "The deep cold is quite like poison to us."
"Isn't it to most?" I countered. "Only Northmen have the luxury of being used to it."
"Your bethrothed is surely pleased by the arrangement."
"Oh, she is jumping with excitement. It's quite heartwarming."
"I am pleased to see that the incident with lady Margaery hasn't caused a rift between you two. It would've been a terrible consequence."
"Bonds are curious things. They can be easily made, and just as easily broken." I remarked, walking forward. "As I see it, a bond can't ever be considered true and meaningful if it hasn't been tried and tested, over and over again - emerging stronger still."
"Your wisdom is always food for the mind, Your Grace." Arianne kept her smile. "The young lady Stark is most fortunate to have you."
"It would please me if you did better to hide your envy. Or rather, not have it at all."
"Oh, that's quite impossible, Your Grace." She sighed, shaking her head. "I am helplessly in love. No amount of pious prayer can rid me off the feelings that I hold for you."
"You mistake desire for love; it will pass."
As I walked past her, she grabbed my hand.
"How much would one night hurt you?"
"It would not hurt me in the slightest," I replied, tilting my head. "Yet, you know where I stand."
I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.
"You are not tied to anyone as of yet, not until your marriage is properly consummated. Why not enjoy yourself?"
"I've made my reasons clear before, have I not? Don't waste my time."
I raised my hand and freed it from Arianne's clutches, walking past her.
"Hm..." Arianne made a sound of disapproval.
~
To open the quarterfinals, Daman and Ser Arthur would face each other.
The shield that could block any attack against the sword that found its way against the thickest of defences.
This duel would be determined by whether or not Ser Arthur could storm Daman's defences early on, who has proven his endurance to be elite. Before it began, however, I made sure to speak with my boy.
"How are you feeling?"
"Slightly anxious, admitedly." Arthur scratched his hair. "I haven't fought an opponent like him before."
"He is something I'd call a turtle." I smiled, thinking of the time I was into For Honor. Conquerors were the worst. "He'll always wait for you to strike, choosing to block or counter depending on the opportunity."
"So I've seen. What do you think happens if I don't attack?"
"Then we're in for the longest duel of this tournament." I chuckled.
"Not only is Daman physically strong, quick and durable, but he is also always level-headed. Everything he does is with victory in mind." Arthur replied, stroking his chin. "It is like facing a patient, fearsome bear under a turtle's shell."
"He is an orderly, fundamental, fighter," I replied, patting his shoulder. "You have to be more... unorthodox. Forceful. If he gives you room to attack, attack and keep on attacking - overwhelm him. Be wary of any counters and try to find a way to get rid off his shield."
"Once you do that... you win."
"It would be easier with a warhammer." Arthur remarked.
"You have Valyrian Steel. You should be cutting through that shield like cake."
"... Of course, Edric." Arthur laughed. "You're right."
Though Valyrian Steel wasn't exactly lightsaber-esque, with enough force and attempts... it should triumph over any defence. It is steel with magical properties, after all.
"Best of luck to you, my friend."
I firmed my grasp on his shoulder before letting go. We exchanged nods before he turned away and walked to the tourney grounds.