Artys Arryn P.O.V
Yohn's voice cut like steel. "Boy, these smugglers were captured by us. I am Yohn Royce, Lord of Runestone. This is Artys Arryn, son of Jon Arryn, Hand of the King, heir to the Eyrie. Correct me if I am wrong, but the Hand of the King is second only to the king." His disgust dripped with every word.
"So don't lecture me on authority. Move aside. We have questions to ask this man. We just want to ask them a few questions, that's it. It's not gonna take much time."
"Lord Royce, I could allow you to ask him a few questions, But that's it," said the current Lord Commander of the City Watch.
He was appointed by my father well, that was the first thing he did when he became Hand of the King: appoint someone loyal to him as head of the City Watch unlike certain someone who thought everyone will follow rules.
Pity, if he had taught Ned about politics, not just honor, when he and Robert were being raised in the Eyrie, things would have turned out differently. But with me now in the picture, the plot would change.
"Look, we just want to ask them a few questions, that's it. It's not gonna take much time."
But before they could speak further, the sound of horses was heard by everyone, pounding fast, and everyone's attention shifted.
There he was: Jaime fookin Lannister.
Riding in like he owned the damn place, flanked by a dozen Lannister soldiers. Their gold and red colored armor and crimson cloaks stood out in the street.
Jaime got off his horse in that cocky, smooth way of his. Tossed the reins to some squire without even glancing at him. He strutted toward us, Lannister soldiers behind him, all in full armor like they were about to march to war.
I'll admit, Lannister forces look good. Their armor's top tier. Clean. Heavy. Designed to impress. When I get enough coin, the Vale forces will be even better. Better armor, better design, and well trained too.
"What's happening here?" Jaime asked loudly, cocky as ever.
"None of your business, Kingslayer," Yohn Royce shot back, same tone, not backing down.
"Oh, looks like Vale men have come to King's Landing? Forgive me, my lord," Jaime said, smirking, "but I've forgotten your name. From your banners, looks like... I don't recognize it?"
"You're standing in front of Lord Yohn Royce Of House Royce, Lord of Runestone," one of the Royce men snapped. More Royce and Arryn soldiers were gathering behind me and Yohn, lining up. Ready for whatever happened now.
"So it's true the Hand's son is back on his feet. The Mother must be feeling generous," Jaime said, that Lannister grin never leaving.
Fucking bastard. It looks like the news about my recovery has spread, as expected in King's Landing.
Just wait ten or eleven years from now, when the War of the Five Kings starts. I'll make sure your family ends. We'll see if you still have that cocky grin when I butcher every last one of your kin.
Maybe I'll leave Myrcella alive make her my whore, just to disgrace your family.
"The Seven showed mercy on me," I said coldly. "Besides, why are you even here? Shouldn't you be with the King, guarding him? I mean, you did take an oath to guard the king when you joined the Kingsguard."
I let the next words sting.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot. Breaking oaths must come naturally to you," I said, voice calm but sharp.
Jaime's smirk faded at my words.
I knew what I said, and no, I'm not Ned, and my father sure as hell isn't Ned. Jaime attacking Lord Stark after he resigned from his position as Hand was plain stupid.
Ned was still Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Attacking him means war if it was someone else, banners would have been called, or Jaime's head would have been demanded, or something big. But no, Ned didn't do anything, and the North marched south when he was imprisoned.
But Ned? He's stupid when it comes to politics. My father isn't.
The problem with Ned Stark is he thinks everyone will follow the rules and keep honor, but many don't , certainly not in King's Landing.
"You've got a sharp tongue for your age, kid. Maybe you should ask your father to teach you where to use it and when to stay quiet." Jamie is angry at my earlier remark, what is he going to do go complain about me to his whore of sister.
I smirked. Learn to choose my words, my ass. I may be young, but I've got Jon Arryn behind me. The Vale behind me. And this dumbass thinks his whore of a sister could save him? Please. The Lannister influence isn't even that strong in King's Landing yet.
If it was after ten or eleven years, I would've considered it. But right now, no their influence is still growing, not at the level Ned had to face. I mean, will face, since I am technically still eleven or twelve years before the plot starts.
"Keep your wisdom to yourself, Lannister. I might be young, but at least I know what the words 'oath and honor' mean. Something you know very little about."
Jaime's smile faded away after hearing my words. Yohn an experienced warrior and lord who knows how politics and war work noticed the shift in tone. The Goldcloaks were uneasy. So were the Lannisters.
"What do you want, Kingslayer?" Yohn asked, his voice full of disgust, the scowl clear on his face.
Yes. What the fuck are you doing here, Jaime? Don't you have a sister to fuck?
"Oh, I was just passing by," Jaime said, voice casual, but his eyes locked on something. "Heard the sound of swords clashing and decided to have a—"
Then his gaze shifted.
He noticed the sword. My sword. I was standing about four or five meters away, but Jaime, being a skilled swordsman, instantly spotted what I was holding.
"Where did you get that sword?" he asked. "Let me have a look."
Jaime stepped forward one step, then another.
But before he could reach me, Yohn unsheathed his sword in one clean motion.
The Lannister men reacted immediately hands to hilts. Then the Royce and Arryn men drew theirs, too. The whole street froze.
"Careful now, Kingslayer," Yohn said, cold and firm. "Or there will be consequences."
A smirk crept back onto Jaime's face.
These fucking Lannisters. Wait until I start my plans. Let's see if you're still smirking then.
"Come on, I was just taking a look," Jaime said lightly. "Judging from the design of that sword, the hilt and the shape it doesn't belong to any noble house. Where did you get that Valyrian steel sword?"
Boom.
You fucking piece of shit.
Everyone's eyes turned toward me or more precisely, to my hands.
Artys. Why the hell didn't you put the sword back in its sheath? Hell, I could've borrowed a cloth from my men to cover the sword. Fuck. Now I've got to make sure this doesn't end up in this bastard's hands.
"That's none of your business, Lannister," Yohn said sternly, pointing his sword directly at Jaime.
"Oh no, no, it is," Jaime said, still smiling. "From the looks of it, you got that sword recently. And judging by the situation, I'd say it came from those men." He gestured at the smugglers who were now bound by the Goldcloaks.
Never mind. I'll handle this.
"Yes, I did," I said, loudly and clearly. "These people are smugglers and slavers. They had captured two boys and planned to sell them in Essos. We fought them and freed the children."
I made sure everyone heard me especially the crowd nearby. PR must be done.
"Oh? Well, then I must insist you hand the sword over to me. Since it's a royal matter now," Jaime said with a bright, smug smile.
"Don't even think about getting near Lord Artys or the sword," Yohn snapped. "It was retrieved by us, and we were the ones who fought the smugglers."
"That, we are thankful for," Jaime replied. "But this is a matter for the Goldcloaks now. King's Landing falls under their jurisdiction. So please, hand over the sword." He unsheathed his own sword as he spoke.
Things are getting out of hand. If I don't do something, these idiots might actually fight right here. That'd be bad. Really bad.
"Why don't we take this matter to the Small Council?" I said.
In the Small Council chamber, I'll have more leverage. My father is there. And even though Robert hates me for my Valyrian looks, he still listens to Jon Arryn. And that gives me enough leverage.
P.O.V ends