Game of Thrones Iron Stark

The feast was loud and messy, the way Robert liked it. Platters of roast boar covered every table. Even Cersei had to admit the pork tasted better than beef. In a city this crowded, beef was too valuable to slaughter for sport. Pig was the meat people could actually afford to enjoy.

Robert sat at the high table with a leg of boar in one hand and a cup of wine in the other. He looked down the table at Stannis.

"Second brother! Where's that Hundred-Bird Knight of yours? I saved him the best pig's feet. Tell him to get over here!"

Stannis answered without looking up from his plate. "He declined, Your Grace. He's a vegetarian."

Robert nearly choked on his wine. "A vegetarian? He fought through a hundred men and he doesn't even eat meat? What the hell does he eat then—grass? Flowers?" He roared with laughter at his own joke.

Loras Tyrell shot to his feet, face flushed. "Your Grace, what exactly are you implying?"

Garlan grabbed his younger brother's wrist before Loras could reach for his sword. Renly stepped in smoothly from the other side.

"Your Grace," Renly said with an easy smile, "the world is full of variety. Some creatures eat meat, some eat flowers and honey. Even stags graze. It's the natural order. A man can still be dangerous without filling his belly with flesh."

The table went quiet for half a second, then Robert laughed again, louder this time.

"Seven hells, Renly! If your sword was half as quick as your tongue I'd name you my heir right now!"

The words landed like a slap. The entire hall went dead silent. Every eye turned toward Renly. He kept the smile on his face, but his knuckles were white around his cup. Robert had just painted a target on his back in front of the entire court.

Cersei stood up at once. "Your Grace, you've had too much wine. It's time you retired."

Robert waved the Kingsguard away when they tried to help him. "I'm not drunk! Music! More wine! We're celebrating!"

The tension slowly bled out of the room as the music started again, but the damage was done. Renly sat back down, jaw tight.

Garlan and Loras found him a moment later.

"Don't take it to heart, my lord," Garlan said quietly. "The king speaks without thinking."

Renly took a long drink of ale. "He's never been a good king. I've known that since I was a boy. Stannis would have made the better ruler."

The words were casual, but they would be remembered.

---

Across the hall, Oberyn Martell appeared beside the Tyrell brothers like a shadow. He wore bright red and gold silks that clashed with every other noble in the room. Most people gave him a wide berth.

"Loras," Oberyn said lightly. "I hear your eldest brother is finally getting his legs fixed. Tony Stark and his friend went to work on him earlier."

Garlan nodded. "They're operating now. With any luck he'll be walking soon."

Oberyn smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "If he walks again, Stark truly is a miracle worker. I poisoned the lance that put Willas in that chair, after all. My spear was coated quite thoroughly."

Loras's hand went to his sword hilt before he could stop himself. "You—!"

Oberyn laughed. "Still such a child. Tell me, have you even tasted a woman yet? Or has Renly's cock been enough to satisfy you?"

Loras drew his blade with a sharp metallic ring that cut through the music. Every head in the hall turned.

For one dangerous second it looked like blood would be spilled. Then Loras moved. He spun the sword in a bright, controlled arc and began to dance with it—fast, flashy footwork that turned the killing draw into a performance. Garlan understood at once and stepped in beside him, blades flashing in perfect rhythm.

The two brothers moved like hawks in flight, then like lions circling. The crowd clapped and cheered, thinking it was all part of the evening's entertainment.

Robert slammed his cup on the table. "Now that's what I like to see! Let them go at it for real!"

Ned tried to intervene. "Your Grace, this is a feast. If someone is hurt—"

"Let them dance!" Robert roared. "I want to see which Tyrell boy is actually worth a damn!"

Ned looked around desperately and spotted Tyrion near the wine. He crossed to him quickly.

"Tyrion. Stop them before someone loses an eye. Please."

Tyrion finished his cup, wiped his mouth, and gave Ned a crooked smile.

"Watch and learn, Lord Hand."

He stepped forward and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"The Queen of Thorns has arrived!"

Loras and Garlan froze mid-strike. Every person in the hall turned toward the entrance.

Olenna Tyrell stood in the doorway with Margaery on one side and Willas on the other. Willas was standing. No chair. No crutches. He walked forward slowly but steadily, face calm, while the entire court stared in stunned silence.