A/N: Hello, welcome to my new story. I venture into this because I saw too many stories about characters we already know being thrown through time or being used for tropes gallore so I wanted to start a story with a fresh new character with a new perspective and perhaps I may even finish this one. *wink* Anyways happy reading I hope you enjoy and as always give me any comments or reviews below and follow the story to stay up to date on any updates. Thanks again!

Ser Baelor Selmy swung his sword wide in the hopes that his opponent would strike at the opening he gave but alas his opponent only parried the blade away and swiftly moving to the left forcing him to adjust his stance. With a smile, he could see his opponent struggled to find an opening. With the impatience only youth could bring Baelor rushed his opponent parrying the strikes meant to keep him away and thrusting his sword tip forward under his opponents neck.

Aha, he thought, I've won. He was wrong, his opponent also had his sword poised to strike at a weakness in his armor sure to kill him.

Shaking his head slightly in his helm he spoke, "Well brother, it seems we are at a draw again."

"Yes it would appear so," replied his older brother in his white enamel armor and white cloak. They sheathed their swords and shook hands. He had never been able to beat his brother, only bring their duels to a draw, even as Barristan had gotten older and he had gotten better with the sword. Though the times when his brother could beat him had come to a close too.

"I've missed you brother. How is it serving in the illustrious Kingsguard these days?" Baelor inquired while throwing him a rag.

His older brother only gave a smile as he caught the rag before he replied, "An honor, as always. If you had allowed me to introduce you to the Lord Commander and the King, you might know the honor of it as well."

Baelor sighed, "You know me well brother. You know I have no desire for that 'honor' to be bestowed upon me. I plan to have children, many of them and a beautiful wife." He took off his scabbard and belt and laid them out on a table, "Besides, the Kingsguard is full. All seven positions filled and despite Grandison's age, the Kingsguard serve for life and he's not dead yet."

"You need not remind me of that, but I only try to give you purpose. You've wandered the Seven Kingdoms for years without purpose and no goal, just fighting and exploring and collecting your merry little band. Do you not tire of it? Do you not want a cause to fight and live your life for?" Barristan asked his brother.

Taking off his heavy armor and changing his shirt he only gave his brother a look, "I am happy as I am with my freedom Barristan, besides another of our family unable to bear children will simply make father sad. He had hoped that I would continue growing our family as there are few of us left."

Barristan looked abashed at this and gave up, as he got up from the bench he had sat. "Very well brother, for father I'll be happy for you and I'm afraid I must return to my duties as Kingsguard, my shift begins soon and the tourney begins tomorrow."

With a wide smile he regarded his brother, "I shall look forward to beating you at all 3 events big brother!"

Barristan the Bold only laughed as he walked away from the secluded area his brother and his friends had chosen for their campsite ahead of the tourney to be held at Storm's End for the death of Lord Robert Baratheon's parents a year earlier.

Turning away from the image of his brother getting back on his horse, he walked back towards the large tent, where his companions were playing cyvasse to pass the time.

Wait I'm forgetting something, Baelor thought. He stopped and turned around to see what he was forgetting. Looking back at the bench he saw his armor and scabbard and rolled his eyes. Idiot. They could've gotten stolen if he had left them out like that and good armor and a sword wasn't cheap. With his things collected he turned back around and back into the direction of the tent. Entering, he could hear their bickering as they played the game.

"You can't do that!" A deep timber voice said whiningly. It was the voice of Rickard Snow, a northern Umber bastard who had joined him and his other friends wanting to see more of the world.

It was a female voice that replied rather mockingly, "Yes, I can." He could see them now as he stepped fully into the tent. The girl was Dyanna Sand, bastard of the Yronwoods of Dorne who had joined him after he had beat her in a challenge duel they had after she had heard he was the brother of Barristan the Bold. She was the first of the group to join him on his travels.

Watching the two playing were Jon Stone, Tytos Hill, Yara Pyke, Emmon Rivers, Gemma Flowers and the twins Simon and Samuel Waters. Bastards one and all or so he was always told by people he met, but he didn't care for their names, for he called them friends all the same. In their travels they had been called the Band of Bastards or something alike. They were all skilled people in one way or another. They used this to their advantage as they traveled the Seven Kingdoms fighting in tourneys for money and also doing the odd protection job as merchants traveled with precious goods.

Rickard was the strongman, with the strength of 3 grown men he was over 7 feet tall and half as wide, though he was surprisingly agile wielding his axe. The twins were skilled archers though unserious at times and lacking in discipline but that was what made them such fun to be around. Dyanna was a spear warrior through and through she was quick as lightning with her spear and could impale a man a good distance away and she was training Yara to be able to do the same things. Jon Stone was a swordsman, quite skilled though nothing of the sort of Barristan and he but he could still fight well. The same could be said of Tytos though lately he had begun using a war hammer with a spike and it seemed to fit him well. Gemma was their beauty, she was good at disguises and at convincing people and finding out information, though her skills also extended to a quick wit and a quick knife. Emmon was not a fighter, he had come with them to find more plants and learn more of healing and so he had become their healer, though Baelor had been reluctant to have him defenseless so they had all trained him with a knife, in time he had begun learning of poisons too. He was the youngest among them so they all took care of him as if he was their little brother.

Yara had caught him staring and said something, "Back from your little fight with your brother I see?"

I smiled at her, "Yes. Ended in a draw though. I'll beat him tomorrow though."

"While I like your conviction Baelor, I still think your brother will defeat you in the melee tomorrow. He knows all your tricks after all." Said Emmon.

I gasped and placed my hands on my heart as if stuck by some invisible arrow, "Your lack of faith hurts Emmon!"

The others gave a chuckle at that. Emmon got up and shoved me playfully. Baelor grabbed him by the neck and rubbed Emmon's head with his fist. He made a noise in protest.

"Do you submit to my superiority?" Baelor asked in a high voice jokingly as he released him.

He bowed low, "Yes, oh great one!" Baelor gave a laugh and sat down with the others.

"Are you all prepared for the tourney tomorrow? All your blades are sharpened and your armor polished?" Baelor asked all of them. They all gave him some form of assent except Emmon who would not be competing. The girls probably just polished and sharpened their blades and readied their weapons to be carried as they wouldn't be allowed to compete in any of the competition. He rather disagreed with that policy but he couldn't do anything to change it so he shrugged it off. The boys were good enough to win the tourneys and win the money anyway.

"Now that you know we're all ready are you going off to get yourself some beauty sleep so you can be all pretty?" Jon asked mockingly.

"Actually no, I'm off to wash this grime and sweat off of myself before I get to my beauty rest. A washing is something you lot could do with too if the smell of this room is to be believed." Baelor replied childishly. With a sniff and a laugh he left the room and the others resumed the game and their shouting.


"You are a horrible squire." Baelor commented as he was helped into his armor by the 17 year old Jon.

Jon glared at him, "Then it's a good thing I'm not a squire isn't it?"

"I suppose. Though my armor is on now despite your efforts otherwise," Baelor laughed.

Jon stuck his tongue out at him as he handed Baelor his helm, a visored barbute for the joust.
"You have my thanks Jon, now gather the others we should probably head over to the tourney grounds lest we be late." Baelor told the man.

Jon nodded and headed off, as Baelor walked toward his destrier Storm, a black horse with hair of the same color, he looked like a shadow and moved fast as lightning though the sound of his hooves at a full gallop sounded like the rumbling of thunder and so the name was born. He mounted the horse and sat there waiting for the others.

After a few minutes finally the others came on their horses, all in their attire for the day.

They all gave him greetings for the morning which Baelor returned and he led them out of their camping area and towards the tourney grounds just outside Storm's End.

When they arrived they were met with a sprawl of tents, with banners from houses he had fought in other tourneys in the land before as well as some banners he had not seen in a while, like the Targaryen dragon, or the falling star of House Dayne.

"If Arthur is here then it might be a good contest after all." Baelor said. He had met the Sword of the morning before, in his youth when the knight had come through his father's land from King's Landing to Starfall. He hadn't tested his blade against that knight of the Kingsguard yet, but he looked forward to it.

It was hours later, after he had entered himself into the lists of all three competitions that he finally found himself with all the other assembled knights waiting for Lord Robert's signal for the jousts to begin. Looking up, he could see Robert himself on a horse in full plate armor with the yellow overshirt and the black frowned stag on his chest proudly displaying his Baratheon heritage. "Let the joust begin!" Robert shouted as he placed his visored helm on.

And begin they did. His first opponent was Prince Oberyn Martell and it took 3 passes but he finally unhorsed the Dornishman and won the round. The prince had congratulated him and his next opponent was soon up, it was Lord Baratheon. Lord Baratheon was an even harder opponent with his bulky frame showing off his strength. They had broken 5 lances on each other before Baelor unhorsed the young lord with a lance to his chest. Baelor had nearly been unhorsed himself in that tilt as he had taken a Lance from Robert in the shoulder.
"You ride good Ser. I wish you good fortune until your brother meets you on the yard, then I hope he plants you on your ass." Robert had said to him before remounting his horse and riding off. After him had come Lord Mallister who was easier to unhorse than Robert as it only took two tilts to take him from the competition. Next he was to ride against the Kingsguard he had been waiting for. Arthur Dayne was a handsome man, tall and muscular with fair skin and fair hair as was standard in his house.
"It is an honor to ride against you Ser Arthur, I hear you are a great knight!" He called across the yard. The small folk watching had begin whispers at hearing him call out the famed knight.

"Thank you for the complement Ser, I have heard of you from your brother and you sound to be a good knight as well. I wish you fortune in the battle to come. Now let's begin." The knight had replied. The smallfolk had cheered upon hearing that.

Begin they did. 13 Lances they broke against one another in tilt after tilt. Their spectators had become restless and on the edge of their seats as they wondered who would win. In the end, Baelor simply wanted it more as with a grunt he had planted the point of his lance on Arthur's shoulder and spun him off his horse. The man landed hard but he seemed to have no broken bones. Baelor dismounted from Storm and game him an arm to help him get up, knowing how hard it was to get up with full plate armor on.
"You alright there, Ser Arthur?" Baelor asked.

Arthur coughed before replying, "Yeah… I think so. I guess you are Barristan's brother after all. Good luck against your brother." He too remounted his horse before riding off. A break was to be had before the next joust. Baelor went to go talk to his companions as he took off his armor so his body could rest before the next and final joust against his brother.

Jon approached him first and helped him get out of the armor which Rickard took and slung up on its mount.

"Well I made it and it seems my brother has as well. Gemma has there been any new information about the realm?" Baelor inquired.

"Yes, it seems that Rhaegar is here not only to compete but as sort of penance as he was the reason Lord Steffon and his Lady were on a voyage in the first place. They were on a mission from the King to find Rhaegar a wife. It seems that Prince Oberyn has brought an offer of betrothal between his sister and the Silver Prince from the Princess Moira Martell." Gemma continued, "The things I have heard have differed but it may be that the King has already accepted or the Prince has preempted his father by accepting."

The news didn't surprise Baelor or the others as they had heard of the King searching for a wife for his son and it seems they may have found one. Shaking the thoughts from his head he heard the horn signaling that it was almost time for the final match to begin.

"Jon my armor please."

Jon obliged helped by the others to speed up the process and soon enough he was back in full plate with his helm on and on hi horse with a lance in hand.

"Good luck Baelor, I know you can do it!" Shouted Yara, the others murmured their assent and cheered for him as he rode forward into the yard.

The smallfolk cheered all around the yard as they saw Ser Baelor and Ser Barristan both sons of House Selmy and so did the nobles in the stands. They couldn't wait for Barristan the Bold and Knight of the Kingsguard and his hedge knight brother joust and see just who was known by lords throughout the realm to be a great traveling knight who won many tourneys wherever they were held.

Robert was sitting in the Lord box watching over the whole affair. With a wave of his hand the steward began the joust and Baelor and his brother launched their horses forward the sounds of thundering hoof beats was all Baelor could hear as he tried to focus the point of his lance to where he thought his brother's shoulder would be and with a thrust the lance broke and he felt Barristan's own lance break against his already bruised shoulder.

His shoulder throbbed in pain but he was still on his horse. Sadly, so was his brother and so it went for 6 tilts one after the other they charged at one another and broke their lances on each other and Baelor was almost out of lances. He was on his last one and then he might have to pay the other knights for their lances. Baelor shook his body to relax his pained muscles before gripping the lance with two hands. He knew it was risky but it would give him more strength to thrust at his brother but he would be unable to grip his reins to stay on his horse should he get hit. Baelor didn't care anymore. It would end in this tilt, one way or the other. And with the signal of the steward Barristan and Baelor charged at one another again. White Knight against Grey Knight they charged and when they met Baelor dodged his brother's lance with it glancing off the top of his shoulder as thrusted his own lance with both hands into the center of Barristan's chest and he was knocked cleanly off his horse.

The crowd was stunned silent… then a loud cheer erupted! Baelor had won.