Chapter Text
The courtyard of the Red Keep was kept open for any who desired to practice his skills: Swordplay, archery, and jousting were the most popular, but like the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the morningstar had become popular for a few young squires and knights to took up the steel weapon in hopes of catching the white knight's attention. The same knight was more preoccupied with teaching the King's sons: Bored Aegon, eager Aemond, and confused Daeron. The King's heirs, instead, only half listened, knowing by experience that the Lord Commander wouldn't ask anything of them, or even pretend to teach them. Prince Jacaerys knew the reason was that Ser Criston didn't like them, while Luke and Joff only thought it was because they were too little. They are too little, thought Jace annoyed, only eleven and eight but already they're taught the same as me! Even Daeron had to wait to spar with his older brothers.
When Ser Criston was done giving instructions, each boy took their training sword and went to their straw dummy. Except for Aegon, who grabbed his newly castle-forged sword and began hacking half-ferociously, half-mocking at his teacher. Jace was already bored of it. I wish Ser Harwin was here. Or father, he sighed while making the same motions as Luke, at least they let me spar with blunted swords. The thought that even if they were there his younger brothers would still be using wood, didn't cheer him up much.
He liked swordplay, he did, but when the long afternoons were spent like that, and the other knights and squires were only too happy to follow Ser Criston, then he preferred to be doing anything else. Technically the Targaryen and Velaryon princes were all the King's squires, his grandfather had been awfully tickled by it and even made the Queen prepare a small ceremony when it was time for the Velaryons and Daeron's turn to be named. Of course, the day to day of squiring was done for other men, as his grandfather was in delicate health and in no need of so many boys about. Mother often despaired of the loss of close positions to their grandfather behind closed doors, saying words that even thickheaded Luke understood were never to be said out loud. In reality, Jace didn't care the King didn't call on them during Small Council sessions because his mother's siblings weren't called either.
Near where Joff was trying to grasp his wooden sword properly, Aemond and Daeron were sparring. Daeron was objectively better, but Aemond compensated for his missing eye with an inner fire that no one was too sure where it came from. Jace privately thought that it was born the day Luke took out his eye, it had never been quenched and Jace was sure it will never be. His brothers knew to stay away from the older boys, but Joff wasn't paying attention to his surroundings and an accident during sparring was far too easy to explain than an outright fight. With a last look to where Luke was (closer to the keep's entrance, meaning in no danger of Aegon's cruelness), Jace step forward to bring his youngest brother to him.
"My prince," A voice said, and then quieter. "Jace."
A large hand was touching his shoulder, effectively stopping him halfway. Ser Harwin's figure completely blocked the sun from Jace's view, offering him a brief relief from it. Ser Harwin Strong was the biggest man he had seen in the Red Keep, he dwarfed the lords and knights of court easily and carried a greatsword that was the average size of a regular man, making him look even taller. When Jace was little, he thought Ser Harwin must have a giant ancestor, but when he told him, the knight only laughed and said he was big because he ate all his greens. Jace had been going through a meat-only phase at the moment, so his words hadn't amused him as much.
Looking up, he saw Ser Harwin still had the City Watch cloak and armor, but they looked too clean for having come from a shift. He's going out, he thought morosely.
"Ser," He said, instead. The knight looked amused. "Let me fetch my youngest brother first."
Ser Harwin let him go easily after looking at where Joff was in danger of being hit. Aemond and Daeron had moved on, but not too far as they still heard Aemond's nasty taunting words. Joff had resorted to taking off his gloves, no doubt his hands were sweaty from the effort of picking up his sword from the floor every few minutes.
"Joff, come on. I'm sure you want to rest," His brother scowled, but let himself be guided to where Ser Harwin was waiting for them. The man had taken off his cloak, noted Jace happily, and instead was examining Jace's own wooden sword.
"Ser Harwin!" Letting go of Jace's hand, Joff finished running the rest of the way. "Did you see me? I was over there!" Joff eagerly pointed to where he had been. With a small hand, he moved his sweaty dark curls out of his eyes. Jace was appalled, but Ser Harwin only smiled and nodded, returning Jace's sword to him.
"Of course, Your Grace. I see you've been practicing your strength since we last saw each other." Joff preened under the compliment, babbling some more about this and that, Jace could think of a hundred more things Ser Harwin could be more interested in than Joff's baby talk.
"Ser," He interrupted, finally tired. "I was wondering if you have a moment before your shift to see me spar with another squire, and give a few pointers, perhaps?" He finished quickly before Joff could open his mouth again.
Not wanting to see Ser Harwin openly deliberate his proposition, he looked for Luke again. A few older squires were fawning over what seemed to be his youngest uncles, now friendly again to each other after the spar. Aegon and Ser Criston had not moved from near the armory but from the distance, he wasn't sure if they were talking or merely looking at the same thing. A few servants passed through the entrance, but Luke was nowhere to be seen. Quickly, he swept the courtyard again and searched for his brother's dark curls in between the squires surrounding Aemond and Daeron. Where? Where—
"Ser Harwin!"
Prince Jacaerys, second in line to the Iron Throne, crossed his arms and decided that looking at the sky was, in fact, very interesting.
He heard the knight greet Luke and say that yes, he had been watching him, too, that straw dummy never stood a chance. Jace had once said the same thing to one of his brothers, but his tone and intentions were far from the earnest ones the knight used. Thinking that he must be looking very silly simply looking at the clouds while Luke and Joff were hanging each from one of Ser Harwin's arms. They are babies! They must know Ser Harwin is not interested in babies, he thought angrily. He came here to spar himself or to see other knights do it.
He cleared his throat in hope of catching his attention back.
Ser Harwin had not gotten rid of any of the princes but simply heard very seriously to their talk, nodded once or twice, and praised them for their non-existent skills. Meanwhile, Jace decided he should be looking for his opponent. Surely Ser Harwin was eager to watch him just as much as Jace wanted him to watch? A few older lords were looking oddly at their group, but Jace passed them in favor of mentally choosing which of the squires would spar with him.
Skirting the edge of Aemond and Daeron's sycophants, he spoke a few words to Arthor Celtigar, a boy around his age and squire to Lord Celtigar of Claw Isle, before going back. Ser Harwin, who was now seated on a bench, one Velaryon to each side, showing them the different grips for different movements. Jace would have knocked his brothers with his sword if it weren't because Ser Harwin would've been disappointed in him.
"You see, lads, this way you can do a longer reach if you keep your elbows relaxed. Elbows relaxed, wrist firm, remember that." He showed exactly what he said, letting his elbow extend quickly without hurting it, sword steady in his hand. "When you let your wrist too loose, your weapon will either fall or take you with it if it's too heavy. And that will be your enemies' advantage."
Few topics made Ser Harwin sound that serious, Jace knew. While he was of merry humor and danced, and laughed at every feast, he took his duties in the City Watch as serious as he took those of heir to Harrenhal. Few rumors were heard about him and if having the nickname "Breakbones" made him too violent, nothing reached Jace's ears. Never had he seen him start a fight or mock people the same way Jace's father did when he was drinking with Ser Qarl or the way his mother would sneer at the Queen. If Ser Harwin disagreed with someone or thought little of them, he was sure to do it privately. Suddenly, Jace had a fear of being disliked. Was he acting too haughty? Too cold? Everybody liked Luke and Joff, but they were children and Jace was almost a man grown! He had to act a certain way, being his mother's heir and all, while his brothers could play and hang from people's arms.
"Jace," Sensing his unease, Ser Harwin called him from the floor. "My prince, have you got your opponent? I have time before departing."
With another cautious look to where the Lord Commander was with Aegon, Jace made a sign for Arthor Celtigar to come to them. Ser Harwin looked at them, and with a sign of approval to Jace, he made sure to keep his brothers from straying by making Jace's spar a lesson.
Jace was incredibly pleased by that.
The Celtigar squire was taller than him but younger in years and insecure with his strength. Jace knew he was strong and maybe had a swifter swing than most, but this was a fight he couldn't lose. And he didn't. After they were done, he offered his hand to Arthor in friendly agreement.
"Well done, Your Grace," the squire smiled, and took it in a firm shake.
"Likewise, Althor. I hope we meet again next time."
"I knew you could do it!" Said Luke, jumping in his seat, Joff was nodding frantically from his own, and in between them, Ser Harwin had risen to his full height. A wide smile adorned his face.
Jace could feel his own doing the same.
"Lad, that was very good, you've learned much," Again, Ser Harwin's palms rested on Jace's shoulders, making him look directly at the older man's open expression. "I'm very proud of you."
This close he noted that he nearly reached Ser Harwin's shoulder. In a few years maybe...
"You think so, ser?" He asked, suddenly embarrassed. He was sweaty like Joff now, and his hair was sticking to his neck uncomfortably. His side ached from the squire's hit, sure to be worse by morning. "I almost lost my sword when Althor hit me with the shield, and then I almost dropped the shield—"
"It's alright, Jace. It was a fine match," Carefully patting his head in a stilted gesture of comfort, Ser Harwin made him look up from the floor. "We learn only from our mistakes, and next time you won't do them again, right?"
"No! I swear I won't!"
"That's right, lad," Nodding once again, Ser Harwin let him go to pick one of the spare training swords. Jace followed, lighter than before, and deaf and blind to the rest of the courtyard. His brothers were practically spilling out of the bench helping the knight look for a bigger shield for him, and two smaller ones for each of them. "This is what you did against that squire," He said, imitating Jace's earlier parry. "But now let's do this instead. Come on."
And on and on, the Velaryon princes followed Ser Harwin's instructions. Even Joff managed a strong enough grip for the more complex moves. It was not until sundown when most had left the courtyard, that Jace realized that it was time to leave. One knight from the Kingsguard (by the size Jace was sure it was either Ser Arryk or maybe Ser Erryk) waited for them alongside two knights with the Velaryon liveries.
"Oh. Mother must be waiting for us," He stopped midway through the move. Luke and Joff did the same, except his youngest brother managed to hit himself in the foot with his shield.
Ser Harwin got a queer look on his face before replying. "Let me escort you."
Relieved, they made their way to Maegor's Holdfast. At night, the keep seemed somber, but for Jace, everything looked brighter, every tapestry was interesting, and even his younger brother's grumbling didn't deter him from relieving his spar again with Ser Harwin, who looked only too happy to share this with him. And did you see what I did there? What about that other time? What did you think about the feint? What do you think about me?