Breakbones and the Dragonrider

Chapter 2

Ser Criston sat with his new comrades and fellow Kingsguard sworn to protect Queen Alicent, hovering over a bowl of the stew that was always available in the armory. The air had been tense in the time following last evening, but as was the way among soldiers, they pushed past and never addressed it. Ser Criston had been given a second chance to live honorably, to keep an oath he had taken. He fumed as he thought of Rhaenyra, who he concluded gave no regard to him or his oath.

So engrossed in his thoughts was he that it took him some time to notice that a dark pair of eyes bore down on him from the threshold. He looked up to find Harwin Strong's gaze fixed on him. Criston raised his head to return the look. An elbow nudged at his, and the man beside him, a third or fourth cousin of some lord in the Riverlands, nodded his head towards Harwin Strong, and the handful of men loyal to House Strong, who came in behind him.

"Princess Rhaenyra's new guards," the red haired Tully man said.

"But they're Goldcloaks," Criston reasoned.

The Tully shrugged. "The Hand's doing, I suppose," he said. "Come for a new set of armor by the looks of it," he concluded, watching the smith pull black plated armor down from a high shelf, to go along with their gold cloaks. A stark contrast to the silver armor and white cloaks of the Kingsguard.

After Ser Harwin had set his men up for their fitting, he turned toward where Criston sat, and gave him a look that set Criston's hackles up. Deciding to act on the bubbling anger inside him, Harwin slowly walked towards Criston's table. The Kingsguard around Criston bristled, ready to intervene if necessary.

"Well aren't you the lucky dog?" Harwin taunted. "I hear you're the Queen's new favorite."

Criston rose slowly, grabbing his bowl, and walked around the table coolly. He set the bowl carelessly down next to the washing lady and the pot of stew.

"The Queen is a very kind and forgiving woman," Criston said with a disdainful smirk.

"Let's hope your fellow comrades are up to task in picking up your slack," Harwin said, careful not to insult or threaten the Queen and her honor. "Seems I had to save the Princess from the mess you started last night."

The two of them stared each other down, acutely aware that anything perceived as a threat to their sovereigns could be punishable by death.

"I wish you the best of luck with the dragonrider, Strong," Criston said, tucking his thumbs into his belt. "She's a handful, that one. Dare I say she likes riding dragons just as much as they like riding her?" The Kingsguard laughed.

And there it was. The rumors around Daemon taking Rhaenyra's maidenhood, given breath and legitimacy by the very knight sworn to be loyal to her and protect her.

And now that was Harwin's job.

He acted quickly, taking Criston's neck in his strong hand, and pulling him several feet to the side before he slammed him into the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

The off-duty Kingsguard, though ready to jump to action, hadn't been armed like Harwin's men of the City Watch were, and they drew their swords, keeping the Kingsguard from intervening.

"Best to let two men sort this out, wouldn't you say?" Harwin's second in command said to the Kingsguard. They all watched in anger as Harwin bore down on Criston, one hand around his neck, the other holding a knife to Criston's side.

"To insult the honor of Princess Rhaenyra is an act of treason," Harwin warned. "I'm sure you're not interested in breaking your new oath when it's less than a day old... So let me make this clear, you little cunt... Besmirch the name of the Princess again, and I'll show you why they call me Breakbones."