The Lost Stag

The Wolf and the Lion

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                    Cheering crowds line both sides of the jousting track as Ser Gregor Clegane rides to the front of the king's stand. He opens his helmet and bows. A row down from the king's left, Eddard Stark is seated next to his daughter, Sansa Stark. Eddard has a long face and long brunette hair. His closely-trimmed beard is beginning to grey, making him look older than his thirty-five years. His dark grey eyes reminded many of fog. His daughter Sansa is traditionally beautiful, taking after her mother's family House Tully. She has high cheekbones, radiant blue eyes, and thick, soft, auburn hair lighter than her mother's. Littlefinger sits directly behind them both. "Where's Arya?" Eddard asked.

                    "At her dancing lessons," Sansa said, not looking at her father. Her eyes land on Ser Loras Tyrell is exceptionally handsome. His hair is a mass of lazy brunette curls which tumble over his eyes, which many women describe as brown, liquid gold. "The Knight of the Flowers," Sansa said with a smile as Loras rode up to the young Stark and handed her a stunning rose. "Thank you, Ser Loras," she said. After nodding toward Sansa, Loras exchanges a secretive look with the king's brother, Renly Baratheon, who is seated higher up. Then he rides over and joins his opponent, Gregor, in front of the king's stand. Gregor's horse becomes skittish, and both men ride off in opposite directions toward the ends of the jousting track. Sansa grabbed her father's arm, "Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," she pleaded.

                    "Hey," Eddard said in a reassuring tone as he held his daughter's hand.

                    "I can't watch," Sansa said, looking away. 

                    Little Finger turned around and looked at Renly, "One hundred gold dragons on the Mountain," he wagered. Little Finger is a short man of slender build and sharp features. He has a trim, pointed beard on his chin and dark hair with threads of grey running through it. He has laughing gray-green eyes like a cat.

                    "I'll take that bet," Renly replied confidently. He is a handsome young man who greatly resembles his older brother Robert when he was younger. Renly is almost as tall as his eldest brother had been. Like Robert, Renly has an easy smile. He has short brunette hair and a beard that makes his blue-green eyes stand out.

                    "Now, what will I buy with one hundred gold dragons? A dozen barrels of Dornish wine? Or a girl from the pleasure houses of Lys?" Little Finger pondered out loud.

                    "Or you could even buy a friend," Renly said sarcastically.

                    "He's going to die," Sansa said in a worried tone.

                    "Ser Loras rides well," Eddard said. The trumpet sounds, and both jousters ride toward one another. Loras' lance breaks upon Gregor's shield and knocks him down to the ground with his horse.

                    Renly jumps up, laughing and clapping, "Such a shame, Littlefinger. It would have been so nice for you to have a friend," he quipped.

                    "And tell me, Lord Renly, when will you be having your friend?" Little Finger asked as he gestured towards Loras. He then sits and leans towards Eddard, "Loras knew his mare was in heat. Quite crafty, really," he explained.

                    "Ser Loras would never do that! There's no honor in tricks," Sansa proclaimed.

                    "No honor but quite a bit of gold," Little Finger explained. Gregor rises from the ground, rips off his helmet, and shouts for his sword. He grabs the sword from his squire and, with one mighty stroke, severs his horse's head. Shocked, the crowd grows quiet. Then Gregor storms over to Loras and knocks him off his horse with a stroke of his sword. He continues to swing down a Loras who's shield barely protects him from the vigorous blows.