King's Landing, Ned Stark arrives at the grounds where the Tourney of the Hand will take place. He enters a tent where Ser Hugh (deceased) is being tended to, he enters to speak with Barristan.
Eddard Stark: Does Ser Hugh have any family in the capital?
Barristan Selmy: No. I stood vigil for him myself last night. He had no one else.
Eddard Stark: He'd never worn this armor before.
Barristan Selmy: Bad luck for him... Going against the Mountain.
Eddard Stark: Who determines the draw?
Barristan Selmy: All the knights draw straws, Lord Stark.
Eddard Stark: Aye... But who holds the straws? You've done good work, Sisters.
Ned and Barristan both exit the tent and begin walking.
Barristan Selmy: Life is strange. Not so many years ago we fought as enemies at the Trident.
Eddard Stark: I'm glad we never met on the field, Ser Barristan... as is my wife. I don't think the widow's life would suit her.
Barristan Selmy: You're too modest. I've seen you cut down a dozen great knights.
Eddard Stark: My father once told me you were the best he'd ever seen. I never knew the man to be wrong about matters of combat.
Barristan Selmy: He was a fine man, your father. What the Mad King did to him was a terrible crime.
Eddard Stark: And that lad... He was a squire until a few months ago. How could he afford a new suit of armor?
Barristan Selmy: Perhaps Lord Arryn left him some money? I hear the King wants to joust today.
Eddard Stark: Yes. That will never happen.
Barristan Selmy: Robert tends to do what he wants.
Eddard Stark: If the King got what he wanted all the time, we'd still be fighting a damned rebellion.
Ned separates from Barristan and enters King Robert’s tent. Lancel, Robert’s squire, is attempting to dress him in his armor.
Lancel Lannister: It's made too small, Your Grace. It won't go.
Robert Baratheon: Your mother was a dumb whore with a fat arse. Did you know that? Look at this idiot! One ball and no brains. He can't even put a man's armor on him properly.
Eddard Stark: You're too fat for your armor.
Robert Baratheon: Fat? Fat, is it? Is that how you speak to your King? That was funny, is it?
Both Robert and Ned begin laughing. Lancel also starts to laugh.
Robert Baratheon: Oh, it’s funny, is it?
Lancel Lannister: No, Your Grace.
Robert Baratheon: No? You don't like the Hand's joke?
Eddard Stark: You're torturing the poor boy.
Robert Baratheon: You heard the Hand. The King's too fat for his armor! Go find the breastplate stretcher, now!
Lancel runs out of the tent.
Eddard Stark: The breastplate stretcher?
Robert Baratheon: How long before he figures it out?
Eddard Stark: Maybe you should have one invented.
Robert Baratheon: All right, all right. But you watch me out there. I still know how to point a lance.
Eddard Stark: You have no business jousting. Leave that for the young men.
Robert Baratheon: Why? Because I'm king? Piss on that. I want to hit somebody!
Eddard Stark: And who's going to hit you back?
Robert Baratheon: Anybody who can. And the last man in his saddle... will be you!
Eddard Stark:There's not a man in the Seven Kingdoms would risk hurting you.
Robert Baratheon: Are you telling me those cowards would let me win?
Eddard Stark: Aye.
Robert Baratheon: … Drink.
Eddard Stark: I'm not thirsty.
Robert Baratheon: Drink. Your King commands it. Gods! Too fat for my armor.
Eddard Stark: Your squire... A Lannister boy?
Robert Baratheon: Hmm... A bloody idiot... But Cersei insisted. I have Jon Arryn to thank for her. "Cersei Lannister will make a good match", he told me. "You'll need her father on your side." I thought being King meant I could do whatever I wanted. Enough of this! Let's go watch 'em ride. At least I can smell someone else's blood.
Eddard Stark: Robert?
Robert Baratheon: What? Oh! An inspiring sight for the people, eh? Come! Bow before your King! Bow, you shits!
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