Chapter 19 - There is a First for Everything

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or the world appearing in this story, they are creations and property of the fantastic George R. R. Martin. I’m not sure if I can claim my OCs as my own, so I’ll play it safe and dedicate them to GRRM.

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[Year - 298 AC]

“Still sore?” Harry asked as they walked through the corridor leading outside the castle. It was still dark outside, the dawn not yet having shown itself completely, but he had wanted to warm his body nonetheless.

‘After the humiliation yesterday, how can it not be sore?’ Garlan thought to himself.

Harry poked his arm to confirm his question. It hurt so much that he had to conceal a wince to escape Harry.

“Oh yes,” Garlan replied as he stretched his arms, warming them up for the spar. He kept his pace with Harry throughout.

“Shouldn’t have challenged him then,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Did you really expect to knock him off?”

He turned to glower at Harry for the lack of confidence in his skill, but was tapped on his leg with a sheathed sword.

“Ow!” Garlan yelled, not being able to conceal it this time. He jumped away, which only ended up causing even more pain to his legs.

“Not just sore, it seems,” Harry said patronisingly as he replaced the sword on his hips.

Garlan massaged his calves, huffing in indignation. “I would do it again if I could.”

He was being headstrong and he knew it, but there was little he could do to relegate his confusion and anger. It was a turmoil with no clear solution.

“Then you would lose again,” Harry said with certainty, “Renly might not be as good as Loras, but he still is better at the lists than you.”

He had no argument to rebut that statement.

“If you really do want to get in a good punch, why don’t you invite him to… participate in the melee?” Harry asked; although Garlan knew that he was only baiting.

With an expression of incredulity on his face, he replied, “Grandmother would have my tongue if I were to even suggest it. She’s not fond of jousts as is – better not mention the melee.”

“You Tyrells – always yapping on about grandmother,” Harry said as his face scrunched up.

Garlan laughed at the expression. “Well… she is the Queen of Thorns…”

Harry hummed in response. They walked out onto the grounds as he said. “I thought she didn’t care for the name.”

“She doesn’t,” Garlan agreed with a nod, “doesn’t mean we can’t use it.”

With a mischievous smile on his face, he continued, “Just like how I can call you the Wolf in the South.”

Harry cringed as he redrew his sword to swipe at him. Garlan jumped back even as he laughed. His legs hurt unbearably, but it was worth it.

Glaring at him throughout, Harry removed his cloak to get ready for the spar and Garlan’s eyes caught the new addition to Harry’s waist.

“A new dagger?” he asked, pointing at the offending item.

Harry’s eyes got the familiar glint they so often held when he had secrets to hide. He smirked as he replied, “It is a new dagger, yes. For me, that is – for the other person – not so much.”

Garlan rolled his eyes at the withheld information. “Well… who did you get it from?”

Harry smirked wider, and Garlan wondered whether the information would even be worth the effort to keep asking. However, before he could repeat himself, Harry removed the dagger and tossed it at him.

Catching it, Garlan unsheathed it, only for his eyes to widen in shock – The unfamiliar, yet all too famous, rippling of light in the steel catching him off guard.

“Valyrian steel…” he mumbled, running his hand over the metal. So light, yet so sharp.

“Indeed it is,” came the reply and he was sure that Harry was still smirking. However, his eyes remained glued to the dagger.

“Must have cost a fortune,” he said with maybe a little bit of awe.

“Might have…” Harry replied mysteriously, trying to pull him in.

Biting his tongue, Garlan took the leap – even if he very much did not want to give him the satisfaction.

“What do you mean?” he asked reluctantly.

“I paid the iron price for it,” Harry said smugly.

Surprised, Garlan finally pried away his gaze from the dagger. He hadn’t expected those morons to be brought into the conversation. “The iron price? Like those savages?”

“I didn’t reave, if that’s what you mean,” Harry started, “I mean, how can I ev–”

“Of course, you didn’t reave! I was just surprised to hear you say it,” said Garlan, cutting him off, as he clarified.

“Right… I took it from a foe,” Harry said, composing himself from the outburst.

“A foe with a Valyrian steel blade?” Garlan asked, in a disbelieving tone. Valyrian steel was rare for a reason, after all. Any random bandit wouldn’t be running around with it.

“Let me keep my–” Harry began.

“–secrets. Yes, I know,” Garlan interrupted. Sheathing and throwing the dagger back to him, Garlan removed his own cloak. Harry chuckled as he laid down his cloak. It really was impressive – the way in which Harry had conditioned him to give up at the first mention of a secret.

Garlan picked up a sparring sword and glanced at Harry, only to see him removing his shirt.

“Do you have to?” Garlan asked, exasperated at the action.

Harry glanced upwards, to the floor above, and winked. “Who am I to deny my audience?”

Garlan lifted his head to see a crimson-faced handmaiden scuttle away.

He glared impassively at Harry.

“You are the one that’s married,” Harry said as he shrugged.

“She must have been keeping an eye for grandmother,” Garlan said dismissively as he walked towards the sparring circle.

Harry picked a sword of his own and moved to follow.

“That doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy herself,” he said self-assuredly.

“Only a good punch to the face will sate me now,” Garlan said, grinding his teeth as he assumed a stance. “Shall we begin?”

“You’re in the wrong place then, Garlan,” Harry said as he sniggered, “sleeping must be done in a bed.”

Garlan started with a simple overhead strike. Harry took a step back, avoiding the strike altogether.

He had expected him to anyways, so quickly taking a few steps forwards, he twisted his wrist to bring the sword upwards and change it into a diagonal strike.

Harry took a step backwards again, but he didn’t avoid the strike this time. He swiped his sword to flick Garlan’s strike upwards. It made him overreach and Garlan lost his balance. Taking advantage of the situation, Harry kicked his leg. His already weak legs couldn’t take the abuse, and he fell on his back not being able to hold his ground.

Within moments, he felt a sword to his neck.

With a sigh, he glanced up to see the all-too-expected smile on Harry’s face.

“The first round goes to me, it seems,” Harry informed genially, “I’m waiting on the punch you promised, Garlan.”

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“Huff, huff, huff,” Harry took deep puffs of breath as he walked back to the sidelines.

Loras was helping Garlan walk back to the shelves of weighted swords. Garlan was only able to limp, not being able to put any weight on his legs. Harry had put him through quite a lot over the last two hours, and his legs had come out the worst for it.

He hoped nothing was broken.

“Company, at last,” Willas said softly from beside him, rather darkly, as he gazed at Garlan’s limping form. Harry chuckled along with him.

“What’s funny?” Loras asked as he finally managed to cover the distance with his burden.

“It’s nothing of import,” Willas said quickly as he passed them a goblet of water. Taking a draw, Garlan passed it to Harry who promptly emptied it on his head.

Loras gave him a rather odd look, while Garlan just stared impassively – already knowing why Harry did it. Leaning towards Loras, Garlan muttered into his ears.

“What is it?” Harry asked. “C’mon, don’t leave us out.”

Willas also looked on in interest.

“Come here,” Garlan beckoned with a blank look.

Harry moved forward and extended his ear, only to quickly find his hands being bound to his back. He didn’t even get to voice his complaint, when he was decked right in the face. The force behind the blow was large enough to knock him to the ground.

“There’s the punch I promised,” Garlan yelled fiercely as he devolved into laughter.

“Fucking prick!” Harry shouted in indignation as he pushed himself upwards and massaged his cheek.

The three brothers were absolutely hysterical in laughter. Willas was entirely leaning on his staff, to the extent that the staff was working overtime in keeping him upright. Garlan was holding on to his stomach while Loras was hunched down.

Harry cursed as he lifted himself to sit. ‘I must be getting soft… if this flowery lot was able to pull this on me.’

Only then did he notice that there was some laughter to the side as well. Turning, he saw Renly and Margaery walk in. ‘Great, even more people to witness the one time I mess up.’

“That was spectacular, Garlan,” Renly said as he wiped a tear.

Harry pushed back his embarrassment as he pulled a smirk to the forefront. “A lucky shot, if anything. You didn’t land a blow during the entirety of the spar.”

“I still won the war,” Garlan said with a smile of his own, “the Wolf in the South has been knocked down.”

Harry cringed yet again. “You’d better not ask me for a spar tomorrow.”

Garlan only laughed as he left to get cleaned up, with Willas helping him walk. Meanwhile, Renly pulled aside Loras to talk amongst themselves.

“I’ll kill the strummer when I get my hands on him,” Harry mumbled as he moved to return the swords to the shelf.

“It’s an impressive title – one that’s already been immortalised in song,” Margaery said as she followed him. “Why do you hate it?”

"Wolf in the South," he repeated, placing extra emphasis on the final word. "That's an insult to a Stark. No house is as synonymous with anything as we are to the North. It just doesn't make sense."

“I see,” she said, but her expression conveyed her true feelings. She thought he was making a huge deal out of it.

Harry attempted to clarify his point. "It's like claiming that the Vale is in the North simply because it has snow-capped mountains," he argued. "It's illogical! Just because I've been here doesn't mean that I’m of the South."

“But the Vale is in the North,” Margaery stated as if confused. “Isn’t it above the westerlands and stormlands?”

Harry glared at her with a funny expression. “What’s next? ‘Highgarden is in the North because it's above Dorne’?” he mimicked her.

She paused to process the information before suddenly bursting into laughter. Harry watched her with confusion, but then he too began to chuckle.

“W– What?” he asked as he chuckled.

“It was just– It was so absurd, and the expression on your face – it was too much!” she said, as she placed her hand on his forearm.

“Yes absurd– that’s what this title is to me,” Harry said trying to bring the chuckling under control.

The laughter died down and their eyes met. Noticing her hand, she quickly removed it and Harry pulled on his shirt.

“My cousin is infatuated with you,” she blurted out quickly, as if she wanted to break the awkward silence.

“Your cousin?” Harry asked as he brought up his knowledge of the Tyrells.

“Alla Tyrell – you might have noticed her at the castle,” Margaery spoke slowly, as if searching for something.

“Alla… oh, yes. I talked with her at the joust the other day. She has a beautiful smile, especially when she’s shy,” Harry said as he thought back to her.

Margaery’s face furrowed a bit at the mention of the smile, and Harry thought it a little funny.

“She’s in your retinue, I believe,” he continued, “Alla – daughter of…”

He blanched as he remembered. “...Leo Tyrell.”

Her mood seemed to improve at his expression as she laughed. It seemed she was aware of his history with Leo.

“My brothers have told me – It’s not the same Leo you’re familiar with, however,” Margaery said as she chuckled.

“I’m aware,” he replied, “but, I’d rather not associate with anyone named Leo Tyrell.”

He shook his head as he thought back to his time at Oldtown – it had been years since he’d seen Leo. Bending down, he picked up the cloak he’d set aside.

“Why do you spar without a shirt?” she questioned as he pulled on his cloak.

Harry smiled at the question – finally a conversation he could control.

"I do it for the fair handmaiden," he replied with a smirk.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his answer. "You haven't made any advances towards the maids since you arrived here," she replied.

Harry's expression lost its humour as he was taken aback by the information. "You've been observant," he stated in a curious tone.

“Grandmother’s very interested in you… and a little irritated as well,” She said as she motioned for him to walk.

Intrigued, he followed her. “And why is she irritated?” he asked.

"I'm not entirely certain... It may have something to do with Arbor," she said slowly, as if testing him.

Harry stopped and reached out to grab her arm. She was a little alarmed but didn’t attempt to pull away immediately.

“What are you doing?” she asked as Harry locked eyes with her.

“You’re already aware, aren’t you?” he stated more than asked, in a flat voice.

“Wh– What about?” She replied as she slowly pried away her hand.

“About Desmera,” Harry said slowly.

She looked as if she might deny, however, after taking a look at his expression, she changed her mind.

“Yes I do,” she said with conviction, “she’s my cousin, after all.”

“Cousin, yes,” Harry said sarcastically as he turned away from her. “You just sold one out to fish for information, what’s another?”

“I care for Alla!” she said enraged at the accusation. “I did no such thing.”

“Ah… I’m sure you didn’t,” he said walking away from her, as if dismissing the conversation.

However, she moved quickly to hold him back, mirroring him from before.

“You have no right!” she yelled as she tightly squeezed his hand, her tone was furious. “You took her maidenhead!”

With an angry glare, he faced her and retorted, "It has nothing to do with you."

"It has nothing to do with me...?" she asked assertively, not backing down. "If you're so righteous, then why did you refuse the betrothal?"

He moved to leave once again, but she kept an iron grip on his hand.

"I can't provide her with the life she deserves," he replied finally.

"The life she deserves?" she repeated incredulously, as if he were listing out trivial excuses. "She loved you, anything would have been enough."

"And I loved her too. Do you think it was easy for me?" he said slowly, causing her to look taken aback by the sudden declaration.

"Do you think your cousin is foolish enough to sleep with the first boy she sets her eyes on?" he asked in a bitter tone. He pried open her fingers, freeing himself from her hold.

“But you broke her heart,” she insisted.

“And I would give her the reason for it when there comes a day where all my issues are settled,” he replied, “but for now, I can’t be the ‘Lord Paramount’ goodson that Lord Redwyne wanted.”

This time she didn’t stop him as he moved away. It wasn’t until he reached the passage leading to his quarters that she opened her mouth.

"What happened with Garlan?" she asked, still standing in the same spot where he had left her.

“Garlan?” Harry asked, not having expected the sudden change in subject.

“Yes, he’s not been himself lately.” She said, although her voice lacked whatever fire it had had before.

‘Oh,’ Harry thought to himself as he remembered.

“That’s for him to reveal,” he replied, “wouldn’t you agree?”

There was no dissent as he left through the passage.