We Can Heal Together

By TJ98

Romance / Other

Loyalties

Ser Jory Cassel

In their seats, Robert and Lyanna Baratheon watched the Tourney unfold. At least half a hundred jousts, topped off with the Melee. After the winners have been rewarded a fair for the smallfolk would be held on these grounds, while the nobility would to the Red Keep for a merry feast. The whole thing was a great around of fun and frolic, all funded by the Royal Treasury.

Standing behind the King and Queen was their brave Kingsguard, Ser Jory Cassel. He, Ser Semly and Ser Horpe were on shift today; the others were competing in the jousts or the melee.

From where he was standing, Ser Jory could see that Lyanna was sitting in Robert's lap with his arms around her. Lyanna was rubbing her belly delicately, as though it were precious to her. Though the precious thing was what was inside her belly: Lyanna was with child.

My father didn't die for nothing, I can say at least that much.

Indeed, Jory's father Martyn Cassel was one of the Northmen who died at the Tower of Joy. He died fighting against the three Kingsguards who were holding Lyanna hostage.

On horseback, Ser Balman of House Byrch unhorsed Ser Arys Oakheart. He held his hands up to take in the applause of the audience while Ser Arys picked himself up out of the dirt.

As this was happening, Lyanna appeared fatigued. Robert got up as gently as possible, so as to allow her to have the cushioned seat for herself. He whispered into Lyanna's ear something, then went off.

Not wanting the Queen to faint, Ser Cassel nudged her on the shoulder. "My Queen, are you well?"

"Yes ... just thinking ..."

Ser Cassel took that as an answer, but Lyanna continued speaking after glancing at Ser Semly.

"Jory, forgive me if I am distrustful: I did not like the first three Kingsguard Knights I met."

This confused Jory Cassel for a few seconds, so Lyanna had to elaborate.

"Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and The Sword of Morning." Lyanna cringed when she said those names, a clear indication that the memories she associated with those names are painful ones.

"I have never met them, I knew them only by reputation."

Well, that and they took my father from me.

Lyanna's hand balled into a fist. "Consider yourself lucky then, they were not true knights."

"Well, I hope I can be better than they were."

This was the most reassuring thing Jory Cassel could think of, but it must of worked because Lyanna smiled. It was a sad smile, but a smile none the less.

"I am sure you will: you are your father's son after all."

Jory Cassel smiled at that thought.

Yes, yes I am. I am Jory Cassel, son of Martyn Cassel and Knight of the Kingsguard.

But then Lyanna continued.

"Just be sure you are cautious of Ser Semly."

"Barrestan Semly?"

Ser Barrstan Semly was The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and was regarded by all as an honorable man. Barrestan the Bold, he was known as. Having gotten to know him, Ser Jory Cassel did not suspect that there was a treacherous bone in the man 's body.

"He was an ardent Targaryen supporter during the war. I do not trust him."

"But My Queen, he accepted your King Husband's pardon. Surly he would not throw away the mercy Robert showed him."

Lyanna simply shook her head, and would say no more. They watched another joust, and after that a harpist came out to sing a song. The harpist sang a happy and cheerful song, as any harpist in Kings Landing knew better than to play a melancholy song before the Queen. Lyanna disliked melancholy harp songs for the same reason she disliked wine: they reminded her of Rhaegar and his lies.

Halfway through the song, Robert returned dragging Grandmaester Pycelle by the arm. The old Maester had a bag with some herbs in it.

Robert stood next to Lyanna, wrapped his arms around her, and stroked her hair. "My love, I brought the Maester. Pycelle claims to know medicines that can soothe your migraines."

Lyanna took Robert's hand in her own and rubbed his fingers delicately.

"Thank you, but I feel better now."

They gazed into each other's eyes for the next few minutes.

Ser Jory whistled softly, then went back to watching the tourney.

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