The Bow Of The Vale

With all decisions made Winterfell became a hubbub of activity for the next few days. People running up and down as they had much to do and with many of the lords of the North arriving things only grew even more agitated.

When the Lords came to know about the special tournament that would be held soon many of them showed great interest in the entire idea. Great John, for instance, told Ned that THIS is the type of tournament he would enjoy and declared that he would be entering in the same team as Ned only to show the others the power of the greatest generation of the North.

His son laughed at that and said he'd join Robb then, if only to punch his father in the face without much repercussion.

Quicky enough the lords divided themselves amongst the camps with the clearly weakest being the Lannister camp as they would depend mostly on the Queen's guards and on Jaime Lannister for any chance of victory. The only shocking addition was that the Boltons joined the Lannister camp, it was a bit weird in the eyes of the other lords of the North, but when it was pointed out that both northerner teams were already full and that showing the future king how good it is to have a northerner by his side, well the other lords didn't have much they could say.

The most shocking for the houses of the North and the rest, however, was how Tigre had let Elizaveta, Ludmila (who both her father and brother refused in their teams), Sophya, Valentina, and Olga into his team and each would command a number of part of his forces. When the fight was about to begin he only had his squire by his side and one guard, the rest was all with the others.

To make matters even more hard to understand one could clearly hear Tigre saying that there was no need for a guard at all, but young Lucas Corbray, the youngest of the three Corbray brothers, would not let that happen this way.

The Northerners and the Royal Party stared in wonder as they saw how Tigre was talked to by others, it was not the typical way of interacting between nobles, it was much freer and the distinctions were not as clear and separated. He talked and interacted with all as if his equals, he would not look down or demand respect by others due to his birth and such. Young Lucas was just Tigre's squire, but he talked to Tigre in a way no different than if he was a brother of his doing a stupid decision.

But, despite that, no one could see any sign of distance or of actual insubordination. If anything Tigre's soldiers were much more united and organized than most others, and in the King's eyes there were clear signs of approval.

'This boy, why couldn't he have been my son instead of the pisspoor failure I had. Oh, Lyanna, have we had a child would he be even greater than this? ... Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, he would have been, he would be your child and mine, a true Storm King!'

Ned, meanwhile, felt happy seeing all this as he could see that the Vale would have a competent and honorable leader in the future. A steady and honorable supporter for the Stark family.

As for Rob, who was surrounded by the heirs and second sons of the nobles of the North, he felt a fierce d.e.s.i.r.e to defeat his father in special, to prove that this next generation would be even better. He also felt a great d.e.s.i.r.e to hit Joffrey during this tournament because, well, is there even a specific reason for wanting to beat Joffrey when he is, as Theon eloquently told him more than once, a bloody coward cunt?

Amongst those who would not be competing two people were talking.

"So, would you like to make a bet with me, Imp?" The Lord Manderly asked, a pouch of coin in hand as he looked at Tyrion with interest. The fat lord was far too fat to participate in an event like the one that will be happening next.

Tyrion, by his part, shook his head.

"No thanks, I feel like it is better not, my Lord."

"Why? Do you not think you can get it right?" The Manderly lord asked but Tyrion stayed quiet for a little while before speaking.

"It is not that, I just don't wish to lose coin." Tyrion admitted, making the Manderly lord confused until he just shrugged and left.

Tyrion, by his part, felt like sighing. He wanted to bet, this was just such an innovating type of game and watching it would certainly be an experience to behold, but Tyrion had a rule about betting.

He would never bet against Jaime, and despite how he wish it not so he knew there was virtually no way that the Lannister group would win. Not with Joffrey in command, shouting stupid orders everywhere and not letting Jaime command anyone, just ordered to accompany Joffrey together with the Hound as if Kingsguard.

'Oh well, at least I will get some good whores for the money I am not throwing away in a useless bet.' Tyrion thought before turning to look at the Vale side, more specifically at his beloved daughter.

Tyrion would be the first to admit, he has no idea whatsoever how someone as beautiful as Sofya cam from him. His best bet was that all the beauty that his twins had and that was denied to him was instead concentrated on Sofya and magnified.

More than once Tyrion cursed his father for what happened to his Tisha, she might have been a whore but she was still his wife and no matter what he loved her. He would like nothing more than to have her here with him now, watching as their daughter enchanted all those that could see her.

In Tigre's side, he finally relented after his squire complained way too much about leaving Tigre alone for this. Tigre might be the Lord Paramount of the East now, but the simple fact is that Tigre felt he would be better served alone. He would act as a distraction, bait, and as a sharpshooter to hit as many as possible.

He would move better if alone but he ended up obliging his squire when it was pointed out that, should he be injured, their team would lose many points. If he had at least two bodyguards things would be different so Tigre let it be so, but he made sure that both were to carry his arrows.

Now it was time for the competition and they all were ready for it. Everyone was brimming with fighting spirit and the Vanadis in specific all wanted to one-up each other.

///---///

Tigre was moving silently through the forest. He had foregone the clothes with the colors of his house or armor, choosing instead to go with a simple and unadorned leather armor of a simple brown and green.

Honestly speaking, it was really nothing much to look at but no one in Tigre's side said anything about it. They were used to such a thing by now and even the most stubborn of those in the Vale army had long since gotten used to this.

Close to Tigre his two companions moved as quietly as they could. They were not nearly as agile as Tigre but they still made do.

Tigre sent the sign to stop as he saw a plausible target. It was an ugly young man, his skin is pink and blotchy, his nose broad, his hair long and dark and dry. His lips are wide and meaty, wormy looking, and he smiled with a wet-lipped smile as he looked around. In his hands a pair of bow and arrow in place.

"Here, here, boy, boy. Come out and play with uncle Ramsay. I promise you will not die, quickly at least."

Knocking an arrow to his bow, Tigre aimed at the target.

SWOOSH

The arrow flew true, hitting Ramsay Snow in the a.s.s. Tigre smirked a bit seeing his target jump at impact before turning to him with his bow in the ready. Tigre took out two arrows, as soon as Ramsay sent his Tigre sent one of his as well, the two arrows hit one another, deviating on their paths. Ramsay's arrow flew away to a tree while Tigre deviated away from its original target and hit Ramsay in the groin.

Ramsay instantly went down but before he could think of doing anything Tigre's second arrow flew as well, hitting him in the middle of his brows and sending him to the ground, passed out cold.

Moving to him Tigre went to check if he was okay. Seeing that he was just passed out he nodded to himself before using the sword he had in hand and hitting Ramsay over and over again. The more hits you get on an enemy the more points so doing this would give his team more points.

Thus Ramsay stayed in the ground, being beaten like a dog by Tigre.

///---///

In another part of the battlefield, Rob was moving with John as they searched for their father. On their sides the direwolves that were little more than pups walked with them.

Suddenly the Direwolves growled (to be more specific Graywind growled, Ghost just stared in weariness) towards the forest. The two turned in that direction and saw a few people coming out of the forest.

It was the king and Ned, together with some of their lords as extra protection.

"Bloody pups, if not for them we would have gotten to you without an issue." Robert said with a grim, Ned only stared as he hosted up his sword.

Rob and John looked at one another and without hesitation ran away to where they came from. The king and the lord of Winterfell looked at one another and ran after them. The two not willing to let those two get away without a good beating.

Suddenly Rob whistled and, from the side, a group of heirs came running down. The Karstark brothers and the Smalljon came balling down with gusto together with a few others to attack, not the king and Ned but the other Lords of the North.

Seeing this the King laughed in pure extasy, this might not be quite a battlefield but it sure gave off the same type of feeling and he was loving every f.u.c.k.i.n.g inch of it all. He hosted his war hammer and turned to the chaotic battle behind them only to barely avoid a strike from John.

Normally, a bastard attacking a king would easily cost the bastard's hand, arm, and everything else attached to it. But, this is a game and the king could not give less of a f.u.c.k about the costumes of Westeros right now.

On a true battlefield, no one cared about where you came from, it is kill or be killed and Robert wanted to be the one doing the killing.

In his side, he could see Ned getting desperate to reach him even as Rob was fighting him, not that the king could pay much attention to this as he was focusing more and more on this fight. And, the more time passed the more he was astounded by the bastard of Winterfell.

The way the boy fought reminded him a bit of Rhaegar, but he also had a lot of the North in his style and Robert could tell that the boy was good. Robert felt exhilarated, in his mind he was almost certain that the rumors that John was the son of Ashara Dayne, the sister of the sword of the morning who had taught the damned silver f.u.c.ker, and thus John was to be of purely noble blood.

The more the two fought the more certain Robbert was of his conjecture, but that did not decrease in anything his exultation of fighting for real once in f.u.c.k.i.n.g years now. But, the more he did so the more he hated something.

He was too damn fat!

He could see the kid's moves coming, moved to intercept, but he was too slow to actually defeat the boy properly. Oh, he had the advantage of strength, of that the king had no doubts, but he was much too slower than before.

'Getting back to kingslanding, let's try and get back in shape!' He came to the decision despite knowing inside that he likely would not follow through with it. He enjoyed the p.l.e.a.s.u.r.es of life far too much for such.

It was at that moment that movement started from the other side, at the corner of the king's eyes he could see a group being led by Valentina and another by Ludmila. Both were dashing at the king who was still locked in combat with John.

He tried to disengage but, by the time he managed so, it was too late. The new additions came at them with all due speed and they hit them when they were weaker.

Both groups showed great ferocity in their attack and before long they left when the king's group and the Norhtener heirs started to reorganize. They tried to pursue but they were all quite tired and if there was one thing Tigre insisted that all those in the army knew to do and do well was to shoot with a bow. Olga that was a bit on the back was commanding the bowman as they picked apart the soldiers from the two larger groups.

Both groups were now united in cursing the bowman who could hit despite the heavy foliage and trees. By the time they caught up with the smaller Vale contingency they Valemen all turned and advanced to combat again.

At some point, someone amongst them all started to laugh and before long everyone was laughing in exultation at this whole situation. They all were enjoying themselves quite a lot by now.

///---///

In the last location of battle, Joffrey was trying to find any opponent for his contingency. He had sent the bastard of the Bolton lord to search, not really expecting much of just some baseborn bastard, but hoping something good to come out of it.

Unsurprisingly for Joffrey, the bastard was nowhere to be seen and he was looking aimlessly at where enemies could be. Jaime had suggested dividing their forces, at least between himself and Joffrey, so as to not be so big a target and to cover more ground, but Joffrey laughed at the idea.

"Uncle, while your skills with the sword are definitely the best in the seven kingdoms you mind for war is just not right. Protecting the king is the highest priority at all times, how can you all do that if you are dispersed all around just like that?" His point was ridiculous in the ears of all those who knew more than two iotas about war. But Joffrey was their leader and they had to obey.

They then saw a group standing in their path not far away. It was Sofya who was standing proudly before them with five other Vale soldiers. Joffrey leered lecherously at Sofya when he saw her and started screaming to go and capture her, basically forgetting what the actual objective of this was all about, but the Lannister forces had to obey and obey they did as 10 of them moved to attack, including the hound.

He honestly would rather be back in some whorehouse or something instead of playing war, and especially doing so under stupid orders from the golden prick, but this was his job anyway and he'd do his job.

The Vale Soldiers stood in front of Sofya, they all joined their shields together in a wall of steel in a manner similar to the one the Unsullied do it. It would never hold for that long, but that was not the objective anyway. They were a distraction to bring attention to the front and let the attack from the back to happen with as little resistance as possible.

By the time the battle started the Lannister soldiers were troubled in how to reach them since in the front the Vale soldiers were blocking and Sofya was using her polearm to guard the sides. Her movements, despite how unsightly the weapon was, were smooth and with no wasted movements. She hit many of the soldiers trying to circulate around this wall and all those that she hit would go down and not get up. They were not dead, but certainly not fine either.

The Hound was the only one that was not really trying there, he had no d.e.s.i.r.e of hurting any woman if he could avoid it and he knew Sofya. From the few times he had seen the girl when in kingslanding she always treated him well despite his scars, never calling him as Hound or any other term, nor did she stare at his scars.

If offered to change from a guard of the golden prick to her he would do it in a heartbeat, especially if he could punch Joffrey in his smug face to boot, but that was not to be. Moving his sword he batted away the attacks from the Valemen and attacked back, all hitting their shields but that managed to knock back them a bit every time.

Joffrey was growing impatient and sent 4 more for help, leaving himself with only 13 guards. It was at this time that Elizaveta came with three others by her side. Joffrey sent 10 of his guards to defeat them, but by this point, he noticed that he only had a scant few round him. It was hardly enough, but he did not care.

PHEW

PHEW

PHEW

Arrows started flying at him. Joffrey, without much of a second thought, jumped to behind Roose Bolton who served as a meatshield for him.

As Roose was forced in this position by the prince who was bragging immensely before and now was using him as meatshield he came to the decision that this prince really was not worth shit. Using him to become warden of the North would likely be really hard to do, and possibly not really worth it if he was to defend this sort of idiot.

But, even with Roose as a meatshield, the arrows still found their way to any exposed part of Joffrey who was yelling for someone to go and kill the one shooting at him. Jaime, knowing that he should move in and do something about it and knowing the likely person shooting, took off to find Tigre.

Running in the forest while being assailed by arrows made Jaime feel like he was back in his earlier days, fighting against the brotherhood without banners by the side of his heroes.

Reaching Tigre he was already with a few blotches of paint, clearly, Jaime had been hit a few times but his training and experience let him evade the most of it. What shocked Jaime though was that he was at least 250 meters away from his original position, and yet Tigre was hitting with impossible accuracy.

Going for his sword Jaime dashed at Tigre who took out his own blade, the two locked blades with one another and began a fierce duel with Jaime having the advantage but never really being able to give that final blow.

At this moment Jaime remembered the orders from Cersei, despite feeling that this was not the right decision he took out a dagger with his left hand and tried to hit Tigre with it, but the Lord Paramount of the East avoided it and before Jaime could try anything Tigre's squire and guard both ran at him. Taking him away from Jaime and disarming him. Being held down Jaime stared in mounting horror as Tigre moved to him and took the dagger on the ground. A dagger that had engraved the lion of Lannister, a ruby on the hilt, and the words 'Property of Jaime Lannister' in it, a gift from Tyrion long ago that now Jaime could only see as a freaking disaster waiting to happen.

"Sir Jaime, we are on a friendly event, so could you explain exactly why is it that you tried to stab me with a dagger?"

'Oh, f.u.c.k me. Father will be so pissed at me.' Jaime thought, wondering if killing himself now or waiting for his father to chew him out would be better.