One of the rare instances where I was present for a tourney that was not held in King's Landing. Littlefinger, Stannis Baratheon and I had accompanied King Robert to a tourney to celebrate his victory over Balon Greyjoy. It was held in Lannisport, and it's true what they say. The Westerlands really are a joy to behold, to be sure.
The Kingslayer rode superbly in the tilt, as always, but perhaps the highlight of the day were the honours festooned upon Ser Jorah Mormont. Dear Jorah. Who can be sure where he is now? The last time my little birds got back to me he was still serving the Targaryen girl in Essos, although the well of Mormont's information has since run dry, a crying shame. Varys is ever thirsty! *titters*
Enough of this folly, I know from experience that Arbor gold can loosen a man's tongue, but I had no idea one of the side effects was reminiscence! Oh dear. Back to the solar I go.
I was dead when I woke up this morning, and I'll be dead before the day is done. 
And the gunslinger followed.