"He did, Grandmother," Margery replied with an amused smile on her face, "But Lord Stark is only saying that he got waylaid, not that his ships got lost. So I do not think his 'boasts' have lost their credibility yet,"
"If you say so," Olenna replied wth an unimpressed expression on her face, "So you and your half-brother are quite close, then? Or is that also something that the boy made up?"
"Yes. My lady. We have grown up together, so we are as close as brothers could be," Robb replied with a smile, "In fact, we have a close bond among all our siblings, quite similar to the one Lady Margery has with her brothers."
"Oh, you seem to know a lot about my family, huh? Don't tell me the boy has been speaking about us behind our back," she asked with narrowed eyes, as if trying to imply that it was offensive to do so.
"Nothing of the sort, My lady," Robb said with a shake of his head, "Jon just mentioned some things about your family in passing while sharing the stories of his travel with my siblings and me. He only mentioned a few details, such as how Lord Willas is smart and responsible, how Lord Garlan is a formidable fighter, and how Loras is the most talented of all—"
"And oh then do tell, what did the boy say about me?" Olenna interrupted as she leaned forward with a curious look on her face.
The boy had been completely unfazed by the brisk manner with which Olenna had handled the conversation so far, and that had upset her more than anything, as it was her most favourite pastime to watch people get dumbfounded because of her words, and now this boy didn't even give her a change in expression as if he had been expecting her.
Robb looked thoughtful for a few moments before he suddenly smiled as if he remembered something, "Jon told me that you are one of the most intelligent person he had ever had the fortune to meet, and that should I ever get the opportunity to encounter you, I should be very alert... otherwise I may not realise, and I would have sold myself to you and then even help you count the pennies at the end,"
Snort
"I-I apologise," Margery coughed as she hid her face behind her hand, but try as she might, the girl couldn't hide her shaking shoulders nor the amusement dancing in her eyes, as no one had ever described her grandmother so vividly yet so accurately before.
"...That boy is getting out of line," Olenna looked speechless for a moment, before she muttered with a snort, as if dissatisfied with him, but the old woman couldn't stop her lips from quirking up, showing that she was more amused than offended by it, as it was very much like something that the bold and cunning brat would say, "I should set him straight the next time I meet him..."
"You should," Robb replied with a solemn nod, "And I would very much like to be there to see that," he continued with a small smile.
"Enough about him," Olenna said with a wave of her hand, "Tell me this, Robb Stark. Have you learned yet why we are gathered here, and what this farce is all about?"
"I do have some idea," Robb nodded with a careful expression on his face, as his eyes turned to look in the direction of the Lannister family sitting there with varied expressions on their faces, "It must have something to do with the cruel fate of those Lannister men in Dorne."
"Yes, yes, very unfortunate, what happened to those poor souls?" she replied with a perfunctory reply as if she had already said these words a dozen times today, and she didn't even bother to hide the smirk on her face, showing that she was more delighted by the course of events than anything.
"Hm," Robb replied simply, not having much to say about those two either.
"What I am more interested in is how your brother is going to handle the aftermath of this," Olenna abruptly asked out of the blue.
Robb's eyes immediately widened, but it was for just a moment before he forcefully controlled his expression and turned to ask with a confused expression, "My brother? I do not understand. What does this have to do with my brother?"
"Does he not?" Olenna shot back with a raised eyebrow, as she closely scrutinised him, as if trying to pick up any falsehood from his face, "Because I was under the impression that your brother Jon has established a very good friendship with Oberyn during his stint in Essos, so I assumed he helped. Did he not then?"
"That is absurd, My lady. Jon was in Essos at the time of this incident, so there was no possibility for him to aid the prince even if he wanted to do so."
"Ah, perhaps I was wrong then," she said with a meaningful smile on her face as she suddenly turned and began to talk with Lord Royce.
Robb leaned back with a relaxed look on his face, but only he knew how much his back was sweating at the moment, 'Damn it! Jon was right about this old crone!!'
Thankfully, the other main player of the day, the Martells, entered at that moment, giving Robb some much-needed room to forget about his close blunder.
...
"I must say, I quite admire your seating arrangement, Lord Baelish," Varys said in a whisper as he watched the Martell party, consisting of Obara, the oldest Sand snake, the brute Areo Hotah, and, of course, Prince Doran, who, by walking on his own, drew quite a few surprised glances towards himself.
"Hm," Petyr replied with a non-committed look on his face.
"I mean, it was cunning of you to put Robb Stark right between the Tyrells and the Martells, and then to put all of them opposite the Lord Lannister. It would surely make the Old Lion see an alliance being formed against him, even if there is none," Varys said with an amused smile, "The Stark boy might not even realise that he has become an irritant in the Lannister Lord's eyes."
"I don't know what you are talking about," Baelish replied stoically, "Three on the left, and four on the right. It was as even a distribution as there could be, and everything else is just a coincidence."
"Oh, and you even kept a seat for the Ironborn," he said with an impressed expression on his face, directing his gaze towards the empty seat beside Lord Edmure, "How polite of you."
"Why not? The Northerners are already here," he said with a smile, almost managing to hide the disdain in his voice, "So why not the Ironborn too, after all, they are not too different from each other," he chuckled as if making a simple jest.
"Oh, so much hate for someone you are meeting for the first time, that you compare the boy to the Ironborn," Varys replied with a taken aback expression, that looked quite genuine, "It seems that my lord has not yet let go of that grudge from a decade ago," he said with a shake of his head as if disappointed, "Ah, Lord Petyr, I never expected you to be so petty," he finished putting a lot of emphasis on the word petty.
"I think you misunderstand," Petyr replied with a stiff smile on his face, trying not to let the eunuch get a rise out of him, "I simply meant that they live not far from each other, and nothing else. And there is no hate; in fact, one could say I am fond of the boy. After all, his mother was a dear friend of mine before her marriage, and the boy seemed to have inherited a lot of her features," he said with a strange gleam in his eyes that appeared just for a moment. "Perhaps I should arrange a meeting with him. I am sure he will be delighted to hear stories about his mother from this uncle of his."
The Lord from Vale had hoped to have the Older Stark in his grasp to play with in this Tourney, but since he could not have that, he would have to make do with the younger one.
The conversation between the two players came to a stop at that moment, as in came the main character of this room, forcing everyone there to stand.
"All Hail! King Robert of the house Baratheon, First of his name, King of Andals, and the Rhoynar, and First Men, Lord of the..."
Behind the King walked the elderly hand, and following in their steps were the two Kingsguards on duty, Ser Barristan the Bold, and Ser Mandon Moore.
By the time the King reached the throne and climbed up the steps, his titles were only halfway through, so he had to stand waiting for the announcer to finish before he impatiently waved his hand, allowing the nobles to be finally seated.
"Begin the proceedings, Lord Arryn," Robert announced immediately while massaging his forehead. The man was nursing quite a headache at that moment, and it was not because he was hungover or anything; no, in fact, it was the exact opposite of that.
Seeing how so many nobles were coming from all over the Seven Kingdoms for this thing in many a year, Lord Arryn had insisted that the King present himself decently, at least for the first time.
And so he had forbidden the King to drink alcohol today, allowing him not even a sip.
Not only that, the Old Hand had gone the length by staying with him from morning till now, monitoring him with his sharp eyes so that he doesn't slip up, and this had left the most powerful man in Westeros feeling very helpless and frustrated, wanting nothing more than to be done with this.
Lord Arryn stood up with a calm expression on his face and turned towards the Lannisters to call, "Bring forward your petition."
The Lord Lannister did not move a single muscle; instead, his brother, behind him, stood up and walked down towards the middle of the throne room before looking up at the king sitting on the throne of swords.
"Today, I bring before you, your grace, a most henious, and cowardly crime commited against honourable knights of Westerlands," Kevan began in a passionate voice, "I am sure some of you have already heard version of this event from here and there," he said while glancing at the nobles sitting in the room, "but let me reiterate for those who have not..."
Kevan took a deep breath, and began to narrate, "Ser Gregor, Ser Lorch and a few other knights along with their retainers, were on their way to attend your grace's tourney, when they were ambushed by Prince Oberyn, and his men in their sleep," he said confidently, even though none of his informants, had been sure of the exact circumstances of the events, "These men not only killed the innocent and brave warriors of Westerlands, they also abducted Ser Gregor Clegane, and Ser Amory Lorch, and took them all the way to Dorne, where they inflicted numerous humiliation on them that no knight of Westeros should ever go through,"
His words immediately elicited loud gasps from the people in the audience who had been completely ignorant of the affairs.
"Ser Gregor? The Mountain?!"
"But how can that be? How can anyone defeat the Mountain?"
"Did you not hear? It was Prince Oberyn who did him in, so he obviously must have used poison,"
"But even then... I just never thought someone like the Mountain could ever be defeated,"
Kevan let the crowd digest the news for a few moments before continuing, "This was an act of war, your grace. It was not only an affront to the Lannisters but also an insult to the dignity of the crown, for them to disregard your authority and so brazenly abduct two knights of another Kingdom without any provocation." Kevan said before he bowed, "I urge you to punish the Martells severely for this infraction, or else they may continue to harbour the delusion that they still serve the mad Targaryens and can do anything they wish."
The name of the Targaryen had the desired effect of irritating the King as he turned to look at the Martells with displeasure in his eyes, "What have you to say, Prince Doran?" he asked sternly, "And it better not be some horseshit about seeking revenge,"
"It does not, your grace," Doran replied as he rose up with a calm and polite smile on his face, "For I have completely forgotten about those events, and have made my peace with the past a long time ago."
These submissive words from the Dornish prince drew quite a few disdainful glances from the nobles present there, but the real players saw differently.
None of them believed a single word coming out of his mouth, but the callous way in which he spoke about it sent a chill down their spines as they finally saw for themselves that they may have been wrong all along, that perhaps the Viper wasn't the most dangerous one among the brothers.
"Good!" Robert breathed in relief as he leaned back with a relaxed expression on his face. As long as it did not involve the man accusing them of the events of the war, the king did not care too much about the rest. "Now, how do you answer the accusations levied by the Lannisters against you and your brother?"
"Of course, I deny them, your grace," Doran said confidently, as if there was not even a question about it, "Not only are the accusations baseless, but the events that Lord Kevan is mentioning here never even occured in the first place," he finished drawing many a curious eyes as no one had expected the man to deny so frankly the events when his own brother back home was parading the two knights openly through the streets of Dorne.
Now, everyone was more than a little curious about how the Prince of Dorne was going to spin this tale to convince the King...
///
And there you have it...
So does the prince have a solution, or is this just a bluff? Well, you will need to wait a week to find that out, unless...
Well, you already know what to do.
...
And before I forget, another little shoutout to the Gladiator King, my cousin's fanfiction (which I am being forced to edit), where the protagonist, a skinny ass teenager, has been thrust into the arena with a deadly bear.
And we all know that humans cannot defeat a bear... or can they?