Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

Lucien Lannister's face, shivering from the cold, appeared before Jaime's eyes again, thin and childish.

"Sir, if your voice is too loud, it will attract the wolves."

In James's eyes, the young squire pursed his lips, which were purple from the cold, and reminded himself in a voice that could only be heard by the gods.

Robb Stark's Northern Cavalry seemed to be nearby. Shadows passed behind the grass one by one, overlapping with the fallen branches and leaves. The sound of horse hooves, the clash of soldiers, and the sound of insults were mixed together, getting closer and closer.

"Don't die in the hands of Stark! Stark has occupied Golden Teeth City, don't go there!" James shouted in his heart.

But in his dream, he said, "Go to Golden Teeth City to get reinforcements! The target of the northerners is me, not you. Put on my helmet and sword and go quickly!"

Don't look at James and his dream self looking at each other. A cunning arc appeared at the corner of his mouth, and the hint of joy was hidden in it. How disgusting.

The huge direwolf sprang out of the grass at an unknown moment, biting Lucien's head, leaving hideous claw marks on his young face, covered in blood.

"Sir, save me!" he begged desperately.

In the dream, he stepped closer, raised his sword, aimed at Lucien's head, and slashed down.

Lucien's split face was the last image in the dream, and James woke up suddenly, gasping loudly.

He touched the surroundings blankly, and the soft bed and luxuriously decorated bedroom came into view, and his mind gradually calmed down.

He was in Casterly Rock, Jaime thought with luck, not in the damned Riverlands.

Lucien's bloody face lingered in his mind, and James shook his head impatiently, trying to get rid of all irrelevant thoughts.

He lowered his eyes and looked at his right hand. Once it lost the support of external force, it would tremble slightly, and it might not even be able to hold the sword firmly.

"Damn it!" Jaime didn't think this was a big problem, Damion Lannister's words were still ringing in his ears.

"The common symptoms are very similar to those of your uncle Tyget," Damion spoke slowly and calmly, with a calm face, but there seemed to be a vague sadness in James's eyes, "It's just that your uncle was involved. There have been too many wars, including the Battle of the Nine-Copper King and Reyes' Rebellion." He looked at James' trembling right hand dully, "Compared to Tiget, it's a bit early for you to suffer from this symptom. Let’s have a fight.”

"A shameful defeat," James said ruefully.

Damian shook his head, "Don't blame yourself, even Stafford and Davon were defeated by Robb Stark, but fortunately, the final winner is us," he put his eyes on the table On the scroll, "Your father hopes that you can play a role in this battlefield and dominate the battlefield in the West."

"I am the Kingsguard," Jaime emphasized, even a little doubting himself. Am I the best knight in the Seven Kingdoms? He asked himself in his mind, "Swear to serve the King."

He tried to control the trembling of his right hand with his left hand, but to no avail, "Damn it!" James cursed.

Damian stared at him silently, as if mocking, but also pitying.

"Compared to the problem with his right hand, maybe this problem is more serious." Damian looked at James' face and said aloud.

"You don't need to remind me!" James' anger surged uncontrollably and he shouted in disgust.

Damian was silent for a moment. He spread the letter on the table and said, "It's best to read it before tomorrow morning." He no longer wanted to appear in front of him and turned around to leave.

James looked at Damion's leaving back with mixed feelings in his heart.

Damion Lannister must have hated him, after all.

Lucion Lannister's childish face reappeared, damn it! He didn't bring Damion's son back safely.

James struggled to gather his thoughts, staggered up from the bed, took the cold water gushing from the pool, and covered his face, trying to use the cold to stimulate his nerves and make himself more awake.

He raised his head dejectedly and looked into the mirror.

Every morning when he woke up like this, he felt lucky. Maybe it was just a dream. When he woke up, everything was beautiful.

But the real self in the mirror broke this illusion every time, and James stared blankly at himself in the mirror.

The scar extended from the forehead to the cheek. Although it had scabbed over, its hideous appearance hinted at the depth of the previous wound.

The cloudy pupils turned, and James' face lost the confidence he had in the past in tournaments, military camps, and noble banquets, leaving only desolation and lingering loss.

"Lannister monster" Jaime smiled self-deprecatingly, his smile full of bitterness.

Tyrion sat at the royal council table, admiring the beautifully carved wine glass in front of him, stroking it carefully with his fingers.

"Why is Attis Arryn holding a tourney now? According to rumors, it is the grandest one." Tyrion recalled the most famous tourney held at Harrenhal in history and frowned slightly. The reputation doesn't seem to be very good

Tywin folded his hands. At this time, only he, Kevan and the newly arrived Tyrion were left in the royal council.

"Harrenhal is a very evil place," Kevan said uneasily. "The five black towers extending to the sky are like the five fingers of a dying man, struggling and twisting."

"Poof!" Tyrion couldn't help laughing, "Uncle's description really sounds like a bard's words."

Kevan frowned slightly, "It always brings misfortune there. The tourney in the wrong spring is still in my memory, not to mention that all the families who own Harrenhal cannot escape the fate of the last bloodline to wither. Look at the He An family."

Tyrion remembered that he had visited Lady River when he went to Harrenhal before, but she seemed to be seriously ill and bedridden, so he only curtsied and left in a hurry.

Lady He'an has no heirs. If she dies, Attis Arryn will definitely win the largest castle in Westeros.

"Don't indulge in the mythical stories of the bards. If Duke Attis wants to hold a tourney, let him hold it. But the enemy has not been eliminated yet. Stannis is still entrenched in the Stormlands and Dragonstone. This expense will be spent on "Sexing up with dogs and horses will only make you weak," Tywin said, "It's a pity that it will not be used for armaments and the defense of King's Landing."

Tyrion glanced at Tywin, "Of course there is no need to say more about the knights in the king's territory and the west. They must stick to their posts. As for the rest," he took a sip of his wine. "The war has been going on for too long. I'm afraid the knights also need to Some fun, nobles who have had conflicts or hostility before, also need a place to get along."

"This should be the duty of the royal family," Tywin looked at Tyrion with some deep meaning. "The king does not have the energy to deal with these affairs, that is the duty of the King's Hand."

Tyrion swallowed his drink again, "The Iron Throne's biggest responsibility now is to guard the kingdom and eradicate traitors." He looked directly at Tywin without fear, "The tourney can help the Iron Throne share its responsibilities, especially those that we are unable to get involved in." "I think you agree with that, father."

Tywin said nothing and stared at Tyrion calmly.

Kevan sighed slightly in his heart. His brother always took superficial honors too seriously, including the Red Lion's counterinsurgency, the attack on the Riverlands, and now the seemingly peaceful relationship with the Vale.

"Similarly, we can also use this to familiarize ourselves with the relationship between the Iron Throne and the great nobles. For example," Tyrion said cautiously, "Let Princess Myrcella and her fiancé meet as early as possible. It is best to cultivate them." Some feelings can also make the alliance more stable."

Tywin did not answer. He knew that the opinions Tyrion mentioned were genuine and not pretentious.

I have something to do today, only one update, and I need to sort out the outline and work slowly and carefully.