Petyr Baelish: And tell me, Lord Renly, when will you be having your friend? Petyr Baelish: Loras knew his mare was in heat. It would have been so nice for you to have a friend. Renly Baratheon: Such a shame, Littlefinger. Loras knocks Ser Gregor off of his mount. A trumpet is heard and both competitors race down their lanes. Petyr Baelish: Now what will I buy with 100 gold dragons? A dozen barrels of Dornish wine? Or a girl from the pleasure houses of Lys? Renly Baratheon: Or you could even buy a friend. Petyr Baelish: 100 gold dragons on the Mountain. Sansa Stark: Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him.

Loras then rides and bows before the King, also taking off down the opposite track. After bowing to Sansa, Loras exchanges looks with Renly Baratheon. Eddard Stark: Where's Arya Sansa Stark: At her dancing lessons. Ser Gregor bows before the King before he and his horse take off down one lane of the track. Eddard Stark: Robert? Robert Baratheon: What? Oh! An inspiring sight for the people, eh? Come! Bow before your King! Bow, you shits! - Now at the jousting track where there are lots of onlookers, cheering. At least I can smell someone else's blood. 'You'll need her father on your side.' I thought being King meant I could do whatever I wanted. 'Cersei Lannister will make a good match', he told me. Robert Baratheon: Are you telling me those cowards would let me win? Eddard Stark: Aye. will be you! Eddard Stark:There's not a man in the Seven Kingdoms would risk hurting you. I want to hit somebody! Eddard Stark: And who's going to hit you back? Robert Baratheon: Anybody who can. Robert Baratheon: Why? Because I'm king? Piss on that. Eddard Stark: You have no business jousting. Eddard Stark: The breastplate stretcher? Robert Baratheon: How long before he figures it out? Eddard Stark: Maybe you should have one invented. The King's too fat for his armor! Go find the breastplate stretcher, now! Lancel runs out of the tent. Robert Baratheon: No? You don't like the Hand's joke? Eddard Stark: You're torturing the poor boy. Robert Baratheon: Oh, it’s funny, is it? Lancel Lannister: No, Your Grace.

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. Eddard Stark: You're too fat for your armor. He can't even put a man's armor on him properly. Did you know that? Look at this idiot! One ball and no brains. Robert Baratheon: Your mother was a dumb whore with a fat arse. Lancel Lannister: It's made too small, Your Grace. Lancel, Robert’s squire, is attempting to dress him in his armor. Ned separates from Barristan and enters King Robert’s tent. Eddard Stark: If the King got what he wanted all the time, we'd still be fighting a damned rebellion. Barristan Selmy: Robert tends to do what he wants. 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. What the Mad King did to him was a terrible crime. Barristan Selmy: He was a fine man, your father. I never knew the man to be wrong about matters of combat. Eddard Stark: My father once told me you were the best he'd ever seen. I've seen you cut down a dozen great knights. I don't think the widow's life would suit her.

Eddard Stark: I'm glad we never met on the field, Ser Barristan. Not so many years ago we fought as enemies at the Trident. Ned and Barristan both exit the tent and begin walking. But who holds the straws? You've done good work, Sisters. Eddard Stark: Who determines the draw? Barristan Selmy: All the knights draw straws, Lord Stark. Eddard Stark: He'd never worn this armor before. Eddard Stark: Does Ser Hugh have any family in the capital? Barristan Selmy: No.

He enters a tent where Ser Hugh (deceased) is being tended to, he enters to speak with Barristan. King's Landing, Ned Stark arrives at the grounds where the Tourney of the Hand will take place.

Feud between selmy and be ioff