Artys Arryn P.O.V
"Lord Arryn, I think the sword in the boy's hand is of greater importance than your family talks." The queen's voice resonated in the room; the attention of everyone shifted to the sword in my hand.
I looked at her, for a moment I was stunned. She is indeed a great beauty. Her remark on the sword had proven my intuition was right she wants it for her little demon.
"Are you people aware of what has happened in the Blackwater Rush and what is in the hands of the boy?" she asked, her green eyes scanning the room.
Pity there was no ally for her, not at this point. There is still a decade before the Lannisters consolidate their power in King's Landing. Though Pycelle would be on her side, but he won't do anything because the odds are against her right now.
"Yes, Lord Commander has already informed us about the incident." Stannis Baratheon got up from his chair and started walking towards the chained man.
"You have got some guts to come to Dragonstone and capture my people and enslave them." Stannis's voice was cold, with a hint of anger running through it.
Looks like the Lord of Dragonstone didn't like the fact that people from his lands had been captured by slavers. If the realm knew of it, it would bring great shame to him.
"Stannis, come back to your seat!" shouted the king. Stannis stopped, turned to look at Robert, and Robert glared at him. Stannis glared back. After a few seconds of eye contact, Stannis returned to his chair. Meanwhile, the queen stood beside the king.
"Lord Arryn, you should ask your son why he refused to hand over this sword to the Goldcloaks when my brother asked him to," Cersei said.
This bitch wants the sword. Perhaps I should tell everyone Joffrey and Myrcella are bastards. But I have no proof of that.
And I don't think it would be a great idea to change the plot yet.
"Your Grace," I said, "I took this sword from smugglers and killed the captain myself. You can see the blood on it—it belongs to their leader. Besides, Ser Jaime drew his sword against me. Thanks to my men and the support of Lord Royce, things didn't go further." I said and made myself as innocent as I could.
Take that, you dumb bitch.
Let's see what you've got now. The people in the room looked at Jaime, their attention shifting from the sword to the Kingslayer. After all, threatening the Hand's son and heir to one of the great houses isn't a small thing.
"Is it true, what my son says, Kingslayer? And did you point a sword at my son?" my father shouted, furious.
That caught me off guard. Looks like Jon is better than I expected—shouting at the queen's brother with anger in front of the king and Small Council. The honorable fool Ned Stark would never have done that.
"There was no blood spilled. You can see your boy is in one piece," Jaime said coldly. Meanwhile, Cersei glared at me.
"Your son is fine, Lord Arryn. Besides, what makes you think this sword belongs to House Arryn?" she asked.
"The sword was found on smugglers. My son and my men fought them, and he killed their captain. Did your brother not tell you that?" Jon Arryn answered her coldly.
Looks like Father doesn't like the Lannisters much. No surprise there. No one loves them but they're rich and powerful, so people can't really do anything.
"Slavers too," Stannis cut in. "These men captured the smallfolk and enslaved them. So they are not just smugglers, but slavers as well. We should call them what they are."
Why does he care so much about what we call them? What matters right now is the ownership of the sword.
Cersei leaned forward, her green eyes sharp. "Lord Arryn, the sword was found in King's Landing."
Jon Arryn said, keeping his voice steady. "What are you implying, Your Grace?" He asked.
Her confidence faltered for a heartbeat, just enough for the room to notice. She had to answer.
"You know… it should be turned over to the crown," she said carefully, choosing her words.
"And why would he do that? The sword, from its looks, is not from any noble house, and it was he who found it and fought these slavers," Stannis interjected.
Just like I expected. Stannis might be grumpy, but when it comes to rules, he doesn't bend. That's a good quality in him.
I let my gaze sweep the room, catching Cersei's tightening jaw. She hates this, hates that someone is actually following the rules and not bowing to her little schemes. Perfect.
"Lord Arryn, the sword was found in King's Landing," Cersei said with false confidence.
So she thinks just because it was found in King's Landing, therefore crown property. Fuck no. I went through hell for this blade and I'm not handing it over because she smiles prettily.
It would have been the crown's if the sword was found ownerless in King's Landing by their men. Which is not the case. I fought that pedophile myself. My spoils.
"Your Grace, that's quite simple," Stannis continued. "According to the Lord Commander, it was Arryn and Royce's men who dealt with the smugglers. The Arryn boy was the one who killed their captain and found the sword."
"For that the crown is thankful," Cersei replied, not willing to yield. "But House Arryn has no claim to the sword. It was found in King's Landing."
"Yes, House Arryn had no prior claim to the sword," Stannis repeated, his look unyielding. "Yet Artys Arryn took this sword from the smugglers after killing their captain. There are no prior claims to the sword. By right of conquest, the sword belongs to him."
"His?" Cersei's smirk widened. "Explain how a sword found in King's Landing becomes the property of this boy?"
"By the ancient tradition, right of conquest," Stannis said coldly. "If a man takes a blade from a defeated foe, and no one else can show prior claim, then the blade is his."
Perfect. Put this stupid whore in her place. Doesn't she know the custom? Fucking bitch.
"But, my lord. The sword was found in King's Landing, which is under the jurisdiction of the crown," Pycelle hinted his support for the queen. "The right of conquest is a custom, not law."
"Robert," Cersei tried to win the king's favor, "You don't plan to hand this Valyrian steel sword to the Arryn boy? Look at him his eyes and hair."
Now she was playing the old wounds Targaryen hatred, my Valyrian looks. Smart. Dangerous. If she can wake the drunken boar in him, she'll get him on her side.
"Are you suggesting we take away a sword my son claimed by right of conquest?" Jon snapped. For the first time, his house had a Valyrian sword within reach, and he would not allow it to be stolen by anyone.
"And Grand Maester, yes, right of conquest is a tradition, not law, but it is a deeply respected tradition that has been followed by the Faith and by knights."
"Robert," Cersei pressed, "the crown lacks a Valyrian steel blade while other noble houses have theirs."
"Quiet, woman."
The king's eyes pinned on me. Not happy. Who cares what this pig thinks; his belly's coming out and ten years from now he'll be fat and useless.
Still, his gaze forced me to hold my tongue. I couldn't depend on Father. I had plans; for that I need to be in the Vale, not in this filthy city. And where the hell were my mother's servants? The celestial said they were on their way.
"Jon, your boy can ha—"
"What proof is there that this boy killed the leader of these slavers?" the queen cut the king off before he could complete his sentence.
I knew someone in this room might ask this question; that's why I brought these two. I glanced at the two boys.
"Your Grace, I have witnesses. These two boys were with me when I got the sword; they saw everything," I pointed at the two boys.
"Is it true? Did the Arryn boy find the Valyrian steel sword and kill the slaver leader?" Robert questioned the two kids.
Then Bryce explained the whole incident.
Looks like things are settled now. I looked at the king, waiting for him to pass his judgment, but before that, a knight in stag livery stepped inside, bowing low.
What now? Is there anyone left in the city who hasn't decided to walk into this so-called Small Council meeting? Maybe next time they should hold it in the throne room and sell tickets.
"Your Grace, there are a few people from Essos who want to meet Lord Arryn and his son."
What a timing.
POV ends.