The knight wore his breastplate so loose it rattled loudly, forcing some faint-hearted women to cover their ears in disapproval. He pushed a protesting Lord Frey from his dark brown horse. Walder Frey, a man far too old to even be at the Tourney, let out a yell; his scowls towards his son loud enough for many from other stands to hear. "You weak boy! And you expect me to hand over the Twins to you? Get off the pit fool!"

Lord Frey's horse, however, was rejecting its new master, flinging his head from side to side as the Knight tried futilely to tame him. His armour had a fresh coat of paint, Rhaegar could have sworn the smiling face of the tree and it's leaves were painted on with wine. Atop his horse, he announced his competitors; Handson, Bronn, and Gerald.

Squires. Rhaegar thought, frowning to himself. Why squires?

It happened in mere moments, one second an amateur knight was on his horse charging at the three squires, and the next his horse and been brought down, along with the three squires, who cowered at his feet.

"Mercy ser, mercy," one of them begged, hands clasped in front of his face.

"It's a joust, not a fucking battle. On your feet you pussy," the black haired squire sneered, lifting the weaker squire from his feet from the back of his shirt. "What do you want for ransom? We are only squires, we don't have much to give." He continued, pointing to their tattered swords that lay on the green grass. Lord Whent had chosen the worse place to joust, on the murky grass near the Gods Eye.

The knight shook his head, "I want your masters to teach you honour. That is all I ask. That shall be ransom enough."

Light murmuring overtook the crowd, and the angered masters of the squires scolded them. Jaime Lannister had not seemed to care and brushed the encounter off, ordering his squire back to their tent to ready him for the sword fighting that was to commence soon. Brandon Stark's squire returned back underneath the stands, his master nowhere to be seen. However, the young Walder Whent ordered his squire to hand over his satchel and marched him off then jousting field.

"Poor boy lost his job over some knights honour," Oberyn chuckled to Elia who shook her head at her brother.

"It's not a joke Oberyn. That was someone's livelihood. It's not fair."

"Life's unfair princess," Rhaegar cut in. The mood turning icy, and Rhaegar felt his wife and brother had not wanted him to be apart of the conversation; from their looks only.

Before they could continue their awkward conversation, the King stood from his seat. The pit went silent, expecting their King to congratulate the Knight on his noble gesture. On the contrary, however, Aerys brought up a thin pale finger and bellowed, as much as he could. "Seize him!"

And the commotion began, mummers grew louder as the Kingsguard drew their swords and the nobility attempted to make their way from the stands. The Knight shook his hands below them, urging the Lord's and Lady's to remain seated in his weak voice. Pleading almost as he threw his sword to the ground, his attempts, however, were futile. A lowly girl sent out a small screech from below,

A lowly girl, presumably a handmaiden that had been dragged along to watch the joust, sent out a small screech from below. And had he turned his head around for a moment to see what the handmaiden was causing a fuss about, Rhaegar would not have been able to see the Knight drop his sword and run as fast as he could. Which wasn't very fast. Though it was fast enough to distract onlookers and save himself from the King's wrath.

"Lord Tyrell!" A Kingsguard bellowed, the voice of Ser Barristen. "Where is Mace Tyrell?" He asked once more. The young Lord stood from his seat next to his mother, Barristan signalling him out almost immediately. The poor Lord was dragged from his seat

"Get your hands off of my son you buffoons!" Lady Olenna yelled from the stands, her head held high and looking down to the Kingsguard. Her protests falling on deaf ears as the flimsy Mace was pushed out of the Tourney and towards the castle.

"Lord Whent! Get our men to show mine to your dungeons," Aerys mumbled to his newest close companion. Lord Whent nodded his head and waddled off. The King turned to his son rolling his eyes. "Find that fucker and bring me his head." His voice merely a whisper. Rhaegar nodded his head reluctantly running down the rickety steps of the stand.

He had not run far enough to miss the sight before him, Lyanna Stark; long hair flowing behind her, running towards the castle at a dangerously fast pace. She was unclipping the heavy armour from herself, once it had detached, she let it fall off her back. She would turn her head every once in a while to make sure she was not being followed by the Kingsguard, missing the Prince who was watching after her; although he was hidden by the plentiful bushes. Lyanna came to a stop at a large willow tree, concealing her silhouette and allow for her to undress comfortably out of her armour.

Perhaps. Rhaegar pondered, looking to the tree. A bird who sang all the right songs wasn't the best bird. He felt his legs push to near the tree, to confront her and ask the meddlesome girl why she had put herself in such a situation, but it seemed he had been too late, for Robert Baratheon was creeping behind her, a smile etched on his face and cheeks as rosy as ever.

Rhaegar watched as she lent back on the tree, bending down to take the heavy steel from her body and as Robert whistled and clapped his hands in admiration.

"When my father told me I was marrying a Stark, I expected a Lady, not a Knight," Robert smiled. He must not have had a chance to joust, for he was still in his chain mail, hammerless and handsome as ever.

"Robert," Lyanna smiled, working harder to get the armour off her body; only to find that her palms had gone sweaty at the sight of her betrothed and she was no longer able to find a use for them.

"Let me, tedious pieces of shits these things are. Dunno why we bother to wear 'em," he chuckled, bending down on one knee and removing the armour from her legs with ease. They fell to the floor with a loud clang, but neither paid no mind. She was left in a large shirt and pants, both Robert presumed to be her brothers'.

"Maybe we should move away. I wouldn't want them accusing you of being the frightful Knight," Lyanna suggested, pointing to the armour that had been sprawled around the tree.

"Not even a witch could see behind a willow tree." Robert did not want to let her lead them away, there were too many questions were spinning in his mind. "Why were you in the joust?"

"Those squires were beating Howland Reed, my father's bannerman. I couldn't let them get away with that," Lyanna responded shrugging.

"So instead of letting a man-"

"A mere boy!" Lyanna interrupted.

"Fight for himself, you fought for him?" Robert questioned.

"Aye. I did." She responded proudly, nose held high in the air. Robert patted her pants and crotch area quickly. "What are you doing!" She shouted pushing his hands away.

"You have to have a cock. I have never met a woman such as you," Robert smiled.

Lyanna laughed, slapping his arms. "Unlike most women, I do not wish to be constrained by the wishes of men around me." There was a short silence between them. "You won't stop me from riding...or fighting...will you?" She whispered to him biting her lip.

"The only thing I'll ever stop you from is leaving me," Robert whispered back, smiling down at the wondrous creature in front of him. "You are a different breed of Stark altogether Lyanna Stark. You aren't boring. Or ugly. Or both. Are you sure you're a Stark."

"And you aren't funny. Or stern. Or attractive. Are you sure you're a Baratheon?" That earned her a pinch on the cheek. It was almost as if they had been moulded for each other. Lyanna and Robert. Robert and Lyanna. It had a special ring to it those two names combined.

And as he watched their encounter, Rhaegar could not help but feel that was meant to be him. Finding her undressing and confronting her. Lyanna was as wild as a weed, but he struggled to find fault with her. Robert Baratheon had stolen his fate, his destiny and now he would have to find a new fate. Or steal that fate back, whichever one the Gods willed him easier.

...

The morning sun hit Rhaegar with an unwanted force. The maids had taken it upon themselves to open the curtain's to his and Elia's room, leaving him groaning to be left alone in peace.

"We are late for the joust my love," Elia drawled her words an act of reassurance for the maids rather than for Rhaegar. "And today, you are to beat Ser Arthur." Her eyes twinkled at the words, almost doubting Rhaegar would make a match for her Arthur.

It took the maids no time once Rhaegar had dragged his stiff body from the bed to dress him and crown him, leaving him painting perfect. Two knocks on the door were all it took for Ser Barristan to swing it open and lead the way to the jousting pit.

Rhaegar could not deny either, that his wife had been made to look as beautiful as ever. His fragile wife the epitome of wealth, her handmaiden's dressed her in a dark green dress with jewellery that seemed to swallow her alive and make music as she walked.

"Ready be beaten to the pulp my Prince?" Barristan asked, laughing to Rhaegar.

"I have placed a special order for a boatload of wine from Dorne and Maester's from the ends of the world coming in today actually. Pray to the God's Arthur fears the wrath of my father today, I have seen our friend one too many times in the pit," Rhaegar responded entwining his arms with Elia's. "Either way, you will be crowned today. Whomever the victor."

Elia smiled at her husband, thankful he understood of her love and shook her head. "I believe Arthur intends the crown of beauty for his sister."

"She is quite the sight," Barristan added.

"I don't know how the men of the guard do it."

Elia rolled her eyes. "Always the one for introductions," she muttered to herself as her brother Oberyn joined them to the joust.

"How does he know what we're always talking about?" Rhaegar whispered to her.

"Because he is a mouse. Ears up, nose down." Elia responded shaking her head.

"I hear they fall off if left too long. Is that true Ser?" Oberyn teased, patting Barristan on the back. "I would end my life if I were never able to touch my lover's sweet body once more."

"Which one?" Barristan laughed.

"All of them." Oberyn sighed.

Elia rolled her eyes once more at her brother as he continued to be of annoyance to Barristan. "So tell me, where has my husband been sneaking to all these nights? I pray you do not tell me to that young bastard girl's bed."

Rhaegar smirked at his wife. "Jealous are we?"

"No. Your mother is worried is all. She says that it is empirical you are not to near the girl."

Chuckling, he asked, "is she a jewel not to be touched?"

Elia's lips formed into a straight line, glaring at the young Prince. "You have two children Rhaegar."

"And a third will come," Rhaegar responded, raising a brow at her.

Elia shook her head. "Not from me." A short silence followed them, the only sounds heard were of Oberyn and Barristan bickering behind them, her jewellery as she moved and the nearing sound of splashing water. Elia looked to her husband, who had looked away from her, almost ashamed of himself. "Not from me." She repeated once more. She took her hands from his, huffed and walked an inch in front of him. "Ride well husband."

...