The Lost Stag

The North Remembers

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                    The Hound and another man grunt as they duel. Men and women look on from the stands. The Hound shoves the other man's shield away and knocks the man off of a wall. Joffrey, Sansa, and Valen sit on a raised platform watching with the rest of the family. "Well struck...Well struck, Dog," Joffrey cheered as the Hound removed his helmet. Joffrey turns to Sansa.

                    "Did you like that?" he asked.

                    "It was well struck, Your Grace," Sansa said, hoping to appease him.

                    "I already said it was well-struck," Joffrey spat.

                   "She is a delicate lady Joffrey. These types of celebrations may be hard on her," Valen said, calming Joffrey's temper.

                    "Northern women," Joffrey spat as two men drag the body away, leaving behind a trail of blood. A boy walks over to clean up the blood. Valen secretly takes Sansa's hand in hers, comforting the young Stark but doesn't look at her. Sansa glances at Valen noticing her strong jawline and slender neck. She didn't know how a woman could be both masculine and feminine at the same time, but somehow Valen did it with ease. Just being near Valen made her feel safe. She could feel the power radiating underneath the young Baratheon's skin. But unlike the men around them, Valen didn't need to show off her strength like some rooster. No, Valen was graceful, honorable, and had a maturity to her that Sansa had only seen in her parents. Still, Valen's bright blue eyes reminded Sansa of a lioness on the hunt.

                    "Who's next?" Joffrey called out, pulling Sansa from her thoughts as she noticed she was staring at Valen.

                    She quickly looks away, "Lothor Brune, freerider in the service of Lord Baelish," a servant announces, then gestures to a man, who then walks over. "Ser Dontos, the Red of House Hollard," he announced once more, then gestured in the opposite direction, but no one came forward. "Ser Dontos, the Red of House Hollard!" the servant yelled.

                   "Here I am," Ser Dontos called out as he walked down some stairs, awkwardly clutching his helmet and weapon. "Here I am," he repeated, then dropped his helmet.

                    "Oh no," Valen said under her breath.

                    "Sorry, Your Grace," Ser Dontos apologized with a slur, then put his helmet on backward. "My deepest apologies," he said once more as he scrambled to put his helmet on correctly.

                    "Are you drunk?" Joffrey asked in disbelief.

                    Ser Dontos removes his helmet, "No. Uh, no, Your Grace. I had - I had two cups of wine," he slurred.

                    "Two cups?" Joffrey asked. Dontos nods, "That's not much at all," Joffrey says, then gestures to the royal wine before him. "Please, have another cup," he offered with a smile reminding Valen of their mother.

                    Ser Dontos hesitated, "Are you sure, Your Grace?" he asked.

                    Joffrey's smile grows, "Yes, to celebrate my name day. Have two, have as much as you like," he offered.

                    "I would be honored, Your Grace," Ser Dontos said, sealing his own fate. He bows to Joffrey, who looks over to Ser Meryn.

                    "Ser Meryn, help Ser Dontos celebrate my name day. See that he drinks his fill," he ordered. Ser Meryn and two other kingsguard grab Ser Dontos. They bring him into a more open area nearby. Ser Dontos is forced onto his knees. One kingsguard keeps him on his knees as Ser Meryn, and the other kingsguard grabs a funnel along with a barrel of wine. Ser Meryn forces the funnel into Ser Dontos's mouth. The kingsguard with the barrel begins pouring the wine down the funnel. Ser Dontos begins gurgling and struggles to swallow the wine as it begins to drown him.