Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 83 Water Dance

The afternoon sun shone through the high walls and onto the stone floor, causing dust to float gently in the light.

In the training ground in front of the Prime Minister's Tower, two figures, one big and one small, were shuttling back and forth.

Arya wielded Needle, a wisp of sweat-drenched hair falling in front of her face, which she brushed away with the back of her hand.

The opponent in front of her is Syrio Forel, the first swordsman of Braavos, the master of water dance, and also her "dance" teacher.

Syrio has served the Sea King of Braavos for many years and is famous in the Free Cities for his unparalleled swordsmanship.

He was bald, short and thin, with a hooked nose. His movements were graceful, and every move made Arya feel a huge sense of oppression.

“Swift as a deer, silent as a shadow, quick as a snake, still as water, strong as a bear, fierce as a wolf, and motionless as a stone!
Only by keeping these tips in mind can you become a qualified water dancer."

Syrio easily avoided Arya's straight thrust, and the tip of his sword guided Needle forward. Arya screamed, lost her balance, and almost fell to the ground.

Arya pouted, not convinced, so she adjusted her body shape, imitated Syrio's movements, changed the angle of the sewing needle, and launched another fierce attack.

But every time Syrio attacked, he could easily resolve it, as unpredictable as a leaf drifting in the wind.

"Only the victors are remembered, the losers are nothing. This is the truth of Syrio Forel."

Syrio's mouth curled up slightly, and he stabbed again, as fast as lightning, straight to the face. Arya was startled and dodged hurriedly, but he had already circled behind her and hit her butt with the spine of his sword with a "snap".

"You are already dead!"

"Ouch!" Arya cried out in pain, stamping her feet angrily, her face full of resignation. "Damn it, I lost again!"

"Losing isn't scary," Syrio said jokingly. "What's scary is not knowing when to fight and when to flee. Even the best swordsman has to know when to retreat."

"Stark never runs away!" Arya raised her chin stubbornly.

"Oh?" Syrio narrowed his eyes. "If you meet someone you want to fight but can't, do you die in battle, or wait until you've mastered your swordsmanship and then defeat him?"

Arya was stunned by the question. She scratched her messy hair, her eyes rolling around, trying hard to think of the answer to the question.

Syrio taught her not only swordsmanship, but also the wisdom of survival, but she could not understand it for the time being.

At this moment, a familiar and majestic voice came from outside the training ground.

"Arya, that's enough."

Ned turned to Syrio Forel again and sighed softly, "My daughter shouldn't have done this."

"What should she do, then? Needlework?" Syrio laughed. "My lord, the wolf cub will eventually grow fangs. If she doesn't learn to use them, the hunters will pull them out."

"Father, I must learn!" Arya straightened her chest and bravely met Ned's gaze. "I don't want to be a lady, I want to be a swordsman!"

Ned could see that his daughter truly loved swordsmanship, unlike her sister Sansa, who would be happy all day just because she had embroidered a beautiful flower.

He looked at Arya, but his sister Lyanna appeared in his mind.

That stubborn girl once took up her sword and challenged him to a duel in the courtyard of Winterfell, and her final outcome...

He didn't want to think about it anymore.

Ned said helplessly: "You can continue to practice, but remember, you are not a swordsman, you are the daughter of Stark. People in the Stark family need not only swordsmanship, but also brains."

Arya grimaced, bowed slightly, struck an elegant pose, and waved Needle twice.

"Yes, Father!"

"Come on, let's continue!" Syrio raised his sword and pointed it at Arya's chest.

Arya was very excited and was about to raise her sword, but Ned interrupted her: "That's all for today's practice."

“But I just started practicing…”

"Aliya, we need to talk."

"The course is over and will continue tomorrow." Syrio bowed to Ned and turned to leave.

Arya felt a sense of foreboding. She sheathed Needle, walked over to her father, and took his hand.

"What happened?"

"I will be leaving King's Landing for a while, following King Robert to Pentos."

Arya's eyes lit up. "You're going to war? Take me with you!"

"Impossible." Ned said firmly.

"Why not?" Arya protested. "I already know how to wield a sword! I can help!"

"This is not your game, Arya." Ned became extremely stern. "The battlefield is not a place for sword training. There are no rules, no glory, only blood and death."

"The Starks aren't afraid of death!" Arya's eyes gleamed with stubbornness. "Teacher Syrio said that wolf cubs will eventually grow fangs. Wolves can't be locked up in a castle forever!"

Ned rubbed his brow wearily. "You are a daughter of House Stark, not a sellsword or a knight. I have sent a letter to your mother. She is waiting for you in Winterfell. I will take you home when the war is over."

"Then why do you want to go again?"

Arya trembled. "You said we only needed to fight when the enemy invaded our lands! Pentos isn't in Westeros, and the people there don't even know you. Why would you go there?"

Ned was silent for a moment, then replied, "Because I want to protect this country!" Arya bit her lip, clenched her fists, and listened to her father's explanation.
She's not stupid, she gets it.

This war has nothing to do with family or justice. It's just because Robert hated Prince Rhaegar for taking away Aunt Lyanna. He wanted to fight and wanted to completely destroy the Targaryen family, and his father had no choice.

"You could have rejected him!" Her voice was full of grievance and anger.

"The king is in danger and as prime minister it is my duty to protect him."

Arya fought back tears, "Who will protect you then?"

Ned felt a pang of pain in his heart. He slowly squatted down, put his hands on his daughter's shoulders, and tried to comfort her.

"Aliya, I'm not a child. I know what I'm doing."

"As long as there is a war, people will die. I won't practice sword anymore. I'll let Teacher Syrio protect you!" Arya sniffed and insisted.

Seeing that his daughter stopped arguing, Ned finally breathed a sigh of relief, stood up and patted her on the head.

"Stay in King's Landing and wait for my return."

"Ah."

Arya nodded, seemingly agreeing.

But what Ned didn't know was that when he turned to leave, Arya stared at her father's back, a determination flashed in her eyes.

If her father doesn't take her, she'll find a way to go secretly! Teacher Syrio is invincible and can completely protect her father!
...

Inside the Red Keep, the Queen's chambers were filled with the faint scent of myrrh. Scarlet velvet curtains covered the large bed, and the white silk sheets were crumpled into a messy ball.
The night wind blew in through the window, gently lifting the curtains and revealing the woman on the bed.

Cersei Lannister leaned lazily on a pile of feather pillows, wearing only a loose nightgown, revealing her slender neck and snow-white shoulders.

Her golden hair was scattered on the pillow, her face was flushed, and she was full of aftertaste.

A young man quietly left Cersei's chambers. It was young Lancel Lannister.

Lancel's golden curly hair was a little messy, his face was flushed, his eyes were evasive, and he fled away like a flash, not even noticing that James was standing behind the door.

Jaime stared in the direction where Lancel disappeared, was silent for a moment, pushed the door open and entered the bedroom, his eyes fixed on Cersei.

She had changed out of her nightgown and into a pale green dress with sleeves of silver Myrish lace. Around her neck was a gold necklace with an emerald the size of a pigeon's egg.

"You're really not picky at all, sister." He sneered and closed the door, leaning against the door frame, his heart filled with jealousy.

"Snapped!"

Cersei came up and slapped Jaime, "What are you talking about? Don't act like a poor betrayed person. There's nothing between Lancel and me."

"Haha," James gritted his teeth, "Don't tell me you called that stupid kid here for some noble reason."

"Lancel is a fool, but a loyal fool." She took a sip from a cup of mulled wine to mask the strange taste in her mouth. "Why do you think I sent him? I sent for our son! Jaime!

Lancel is Robert's squire, and he will escort Robert to the Seven when the time is right."

James was stunned, the jealousy in his heart mostly subsided, replaced by disbelief.

"are you serious?"

"Of course." Cersei's eyes flashed with venom at the mention of Robert. "Thank the gods, those barbarians will help us get rid of that drunkard. Even if he survives, I have other ways to deal with him."

Cersei straightened her skirt and continued, "You know, Father always said that the best shield is a wielding sword. In the game of thrones, if you don't win, you die. There is no middle ground!"

Jaime was silent for a moment. "Sister, even if Robert died in battle, Ned Stark would not allow Joffrey to ascend the throne."

Cersei's hands rested on his chest, her voice soft, "This is what you have to do, Jaime. You have to make sure Stark doesn't come back either."

Jaime stared into Cersei's eyes, searching for even a hint of guilt, but she was still the woman so confident that she thought she was in control.

When he was fifteen, Cersei begged for his company before leaving. He followed Cersei to King's Landing without hesitation, joined the Kingsguard, and vowed never to marry.

For Cersei, he would even push the Stark boy off the tower.

However, Cersei went too far this time.

"What if I refuse?" James asked.

Cersei slowly approached Jaime and whispered in his ear, the taste of nutmeg on her lips, "You won't say no, Jaime, because you love me."

James stared at her face so close to her, suddenly kissed her, and roughly pulled open the hem of her skirt, greedily taking it.

After a long time, the two separated. Jaime was breathing heavily, his words filled with jealousy, "I will go to Pentos, but not for you, only because I am a member of the Kingsguard and I swore to protect the king!"

Cersei threw the torn skirt into the corner and sneered: "You stole from the house and committed adultery with the queen. The king will chop off your head immediately."

"I will not do anything that would damage the honor of a knight!"

Before he finished speaking, James turned around and strode out of the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Cersei walked to the window and sat down, looking at King's Landing below, and the corners of her mouth gradually curled up.

She knew James, and no matter how much he protested, he would eventually get what she wanted.

(End of this chapter)