Chapter 34: A Prodding Contest
Rhaella
She knew he wasn't but it felt like her son was avoiding her, like he knew she wanted to talk to him but he wasn't interested in hearing what she had to say. Earlier, before she could even get chance to talk to him, he was being pulled away by yet another meeting, and yet again, it was another meeting with the Tullys.
Whatever that meeting consisted of was a mystery to her, she'd not had chance to ask him about it before they were heading for the tourney grounds. There was one thing she did notice though and that was the miserable look on Lord Edmure Tully's face when he stormed off after said meeting.
One things for sure, she'd find out what those meetings were about, and she'd probably find out at the end of the day when she finally got chance to talk to him in private.
The polite applause around the stands broke her from her thoughts. She looked into the yard and noticed that the herald had finally stopped talking and had made his way out of the yard. After he'd announced the list of competitors, she kind of zoned out as she looked over the yard, noticing that Jon was nowhere to be seen in the northern stands. She didn't miss Lord Stark averting his gaze when they locked eyes with each other.
She knew that Aegon would be competing in today's joust but she had a feeling her other grandson would be too. She didn't even know if he was any good at the sport, the only thing she had to go on was his capability with a sword, and that didn't exactly translate into jousting prowess.
What would happen if they faced off against each other?
Jon had not been announced by the herald in the list of entries but with the absence of him in the crowd and the mention of a mystery knight, she was pretty sure he'd be competing today.
Though, if the mystery knight was Jon, she didn't know what the name "Ser Falconsbane" referred to. A strange name to give himself in her opinion, she wondered what it meant.
If it was her other grandson, then the both of them stood a decent chance of actually winning the entire thing. She knew beforehand, so when the announcement that the Kingsguard were sitting this one out, she wasn't surprised like some people were. And she had a good idea the reason why the Clegane brothers were absent from the list of competitors as well, positive that Lord Tywin had restricted them from competing after their conduct during the melee.
The herald's horn almost made her jump as it was blown. As she turned her head, she noticed two mounted men making their way onto the yard. One of them was a lesser known knight from House Shett named Ser Uther, recognisable by the white gulls on the front of his shield.
The second man though garnered more attention from the crowd, and from her. She leaned forward to get a better look as she tried to look for any confirmation of the mystery knight's identity. Her face stayed passive but inside she was smiling as she noticed those recognisable inky curls poking out from underneath the mystery knight's plain helmet.
What was he playing at? Ser Falconsbane? What was the story behind that name?
The excitement of the crowd built as the horn was blown again, both competitors riding towards each other with their lances held true. A part of her wished she didn't know who the mystery knight was, because now she couldn't hold her wince in as the two collided.
Both men managed to hit each other's shield as they passed, the difference between the two was the reaction to the strike, Jon sat strong and unmoving on the back of his chestnut mount, Ser Uther was affected a lot more though as he readjusted in his saddle and twisted his shoulder to ease the apparent pain the strike had caused.
The second pass came quickly since neither lance had broken on the first, this time Ser Uther managed to nick Jon on the shoulder as he passed while Jon only managed to hit the knights shield again. You wouldn't have thought it by the reactions of the two though, Ser Uther, who was really struggling to hold his shield up, seemed to have a much bigger problem than Jon, who just readjusted in his seat as he turned at the end of the yard.
Come on Jon. She thought to herself as she watched the two men charge towards each other for a third time, the crowd grew in volume as the action thickened.
She winced when Ser Uther caught her grandson on the shoulder again but it didn't last long as Jon caught the struggling Vale knight flush in the shield he could barely hold up, unseating the man and flipping him into the dirt with a dull thud.
The crowd erupted with applause and she let out a sigh of relief as her grandson rode around the end of the yard and back up it, seemingly glaring at the fallen knight as he passed by.
She didn't have much time to think much of it as the herald was announcing the winner of the match and names of the next two competitors. And it would seem that she wouldn't be getting a respite from her worry as her other grandson was up next.
Rhaenys
They'd been sat through at least a dozen matches already, in normal circumstances, she'd be pretty bored right about now. Hell, even the Kingsguard weren't competing today, that should've had her yawning into her goblet. But it wasn't the case, she'd tell anyone who asked, it was because her brother was competing, and doing quite well for himself she may add. But that just wasn't it, there was more to it, it was in the form of a mystery knight slamming a ser from House Frey in the shoulder with his lance and off of his horse.
A mystery knight she was pretty sure she knew the identity of.
She knew he wasn't in the crowd, she knew he wasn't sat with his family, she's checked a handful of times for crying out loud. At first she thought nothing of it, assumed he wasn't bothered about the joust and was off doing his own thing, but then the mystery knight came out for the first bout and after a very thorough visual check, she realised it was him. The general size of him, the way he sat his horse were clues to her theory but what confirmed it was those raven locks poking out the bottom of his helm.
When she'd come to that conclusion, she side eyed her grandmother to see if she'd worked it out herself yet. She knew there was something going on between her and Jon, something she honestly didn't know how to feel about, and she assumed she'd be able to work out the identity of the knight as well.
She wasn't disappointed as she saw her grandmother react. Blink and she would've missed it, a flicker passed her grandmother's eyes and was gone as fast as it came.
She knew it was him as well.
The only thing that made her question whether or not it was him was the name, Ser Falconsbane? What in the world did that mean?
She was brought back to the present as her shoulder was tapped on, she looked to her right where Dany was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, humour swimming in her expressive eyes. Rhaenys saw how close Dany's face was to hers and she couldn't help but look down for a split second at her aunt's pillowy lips. As she looked back up, she noticed a grin form on those same lips, a sign that she'd been caught. She couldn't for the life of her care.
Her aunt was devastatingly beautiful, she was just admiring what was sat in front of her.
"You look like you were in your own world just then, want to talk about it?" Dany asked as Jon rode out of the yard, the Frey knight slowly making his way out after. She couldn't help but let her eyes glance at Jon's retreating back.
Something Daenerys caught as her own eyes flickered in the direction Rhae was looking in.
"Ah." Her aunt said as she turned back to her "I suppose you've worked out who it is as well?" She said as she looked around to see if anybody was listening.
"What's this?" She heard Margaery say from her left. She turned and looked at her sister-in-law, who was holding a napping Alysanne.
"Nothing, ignore her." She replied as she looked back in the yard. As she turned her head, she noticed her father sneaking a look in their direction, it was something she'd caught him doing when he thought she wasn't looking ever since they'd sat down.
And with the numerous meetings he'd been having lately, she became rather anxious about his change in behaviour.
"Rhae has an eye on that mystery knight." Dany said as she replied to Margaery's question. She just sighed in response.
She sneaked a look to see what her sister-in-law's reaction to that was, noticing the trademark smirk of hers.
"Oh, is that so? From my observations, Rhae isn't the only one who's eyes have been following him about, isn't that right Daenerys?" Margaery replied. Rhae looked at Dany, noticing that she'd turned away from the conversation and was talking with her mother who was sat next to her.
She heard Marge chuckle "She's not as subtle as she thinks she is." She whispered to Rhae, that smirk still present on her face.
"I heard that." Daenerys replied from her right without looking away from her mother. Her grandmother looked at her over her daughter's shoulder, a look of amusement on her beautiful face.
"So..." Margaery said as they looked back at the yard as two more competitors entered, them both politely clapping, Margaery struggling a little while holding her daughter.
"Hmm?" She replied. She didn't look but she could tell that smirk was still on Marge's face.
"Two Targaryen princesses showing an interest in the champion of the grand melee," She casually said as Rhae's eyes widened. She looked around to make sure nobody had heard what she had said. "I must say, the two of you do have good taste." She continued.
Rhae side eyed her sister-in-law and glared at her in an attempt to shut her up before somebody unfortunate heard what she was saying. Marge, to her credit, moved closer to her ear to whisper. Unfortunately, Rhae wasn't near enough ready for what she was going to whisper to her.
"Maybe you'd be as good at riding him as he is riding his horse." Margaery whispered, almost laughing as Rhae turned to her wide eyed.
Margaery looked back to the yard with a shit eating grin on her face. She shook her head and sighed as she mirrored Marge's actions.
She squirmed in her seat.
Brilliant, those were the last images she needed in her head right about now.
Ned
"This is how it starts Eddard. One minute he's wandering off with our children, the next he's holding them hostage until he gets what he wants."He heard Catelyn say from his left. Thankfully none of the children heard her, they were too busy watching a knight from House Waynwood trade blows with this mystery knight that everybody was whispering about.
A mystery knight both he and his wife had worked out the identity of. Obviously their reactions were totally different, while she was disinterested and annoyed that Jon was once again throwing himself into the limelight, he was confused as to why Jon had not only entered a competition posing as a mystery knight, but posed as one with such an unusual moniker.
Ser Falconsbane.
Jon didn't do this type of thing for no reason, and he definitely didn't give himself names and titles like he'd done in this instance.
There was definitely a reason behind all of this, but since the competition had begun a couple of hours ago, he'd still not worked it out.
A poisonous voice in his head was whispering possibilities to him, one of which made him very anxious.
What if he wins?
What if he crowns one of the royal princesses? Or even the Queen?
He's already spoken to his grandmother a couple of times. It's not out of the realm of possibility that he would crown the woman who was currently welcoming him into that side of his family.
What happens after he's crowned one of them?
Is that the moment the truth comes out to the world?
He shook his head, catching his wife looking at him with contempt as he did so.
Jon wouldn't do that to him. He thought.
He was sure of it.
Besides, it pained him to think this way about his son...or nephew...or whatever the lad was to him now, but Jon wasn't the most talented at jousting. Robb had always been the better jouster when they were younger, so much so that Jon had packed the whole sport in when he was twelve name days old, preferring to stick to his swordplay over, in his own words, an overrated prodding contest.
From what he'd seen in his previous rounds, Jon had spent little to no time at all honing his jousting skill in his years away. What did concern him though was the fact that Jon was not only a fiend on horseback, something he definitely got from his mother, but he was incredibly stubborn when he set his mind on something. That stubbornness was translating into sheer resilience on the back of that horse, he'd lost count how many times he winced as his sister's son was struck with an opponents lance.
The fact that he was concerned that Jon was doing well in this competition ashamed him. He was more interested in keeping the boy quiet than cheering him on to victory.
He catches the moment the Waynwood knight is unseated from his horse, the knight audibly groaning as he rolled around the dirt. Not the only audible thing that could be heard, the crowd cheering the mystery knight along with his children, his wife sighing next to him.
He notices yet again, the way that Jon looks down at his opponent as he trots past them, the same way he stared down at the first knight he defeated.
There's a clear motive here. He thought as he watched Jon move all the way down to the end of the yard. He notices, as Jon climbs off his horse, Arya giving him a hug near the tent before they both entered.
At least he definitely knows where she is now, before it was just an assumption.
He leans over and whispers to Cat "Arya is definitely with Jon, I've just seen her."
Apart from sniffing, his wife ignored him as she looked over at the royal family. He sighed to himself and looked over at the Targaryens himself, looking away almost instantly when he notices the Queen mother looking at him coldly.
He had nowhere to look and nowhere to hide. He felt like a prisoner as the walls closed in on him, all he was doing now was waiting for his sentence.
He wondered how long this would last, how long the cold shoulder from his wife would last.
Probably however long he had left in this world.
Which at this rate, was looking shorter and shorter by the minute.
Daenerys
The whole family stood and clapped as Aegon managed to unseat Lord Edmure from his horse, the loudest of the applause coming from her left. Margaery and her daughter were clapping together as they watched their husband and father respectively wave to the crowd, the crown prince lapping up the applause. Rhaenys was just as loud as her brother passed by, she had a reason it was more to do with Lord Edmure being defeated than her love for her brother.
But that was just her opinion.
She leaned in and lowered her voice as everybody sat down "Careful Rhae, someone might think you dislike Lord Edmure with the way you reacted."
Her niece chuckled and shook her head "Wouldn't be the worst thing to happen."
The claps and cheers began to build up again as the next two competitors moved on to the yard, the first being one Ser Harrold Hardyng who waved to the crowd and received polite applause back. She didn't miss the way he smiled towards Sansa Stark. The second of the knights received more of the applause as he was the brother of the future Queen, Ser Garlan waved to the crowd, the loudest applause coming from Margaery herself.
"Clap for uncle Garly Alys." She heard Margaery say to her daughter as her brother moved around the yard soaking in the atmosphere. Alysanne, bless her little heart, tried her best to copy her mother as she clapped her chubby arms together.
A heartless man would smile at the scene.
Unfortunately for Alysanne and her mother, as the bout went on and they reached round four, Ser Garlan visibly slipped in his saddle and Ser Harrold took advantage of it. Thankfully Margaery's brother managed to land in the dirt without hurting himself, waving to the crowd and seemingly accepting the defeat with class.
"That's a shame. At least he took it well." She heard her mother say to her right. Dany turned and looked at her.
"Who are you rooting for out of the remaining competitors mother?" She asked as she took a sip from her wine. She knew what her answer would be but she wanted to find something out for herself.
Her mother scoffed "My grandson of course. Who else would I root for?"
She shrugged as she looked back to the yard, noticing two more competitors entering the yard "What about that mystery knight?" She asked.
She knew who it was, Rhae knew who it was, she wondered if her mother knew who it was.
"What about him." Came her mother's reply. She sneaked a look to see her reaction, noticing that her mother was looking back into the yard with her head held high.
The mask is back on, no breaking that down.
The match got underway but she realised that during the conversation with her mother, she'd missed who was actually competing. She leaned in and whispered to Rhae.
"Who's competing? I got distracted." She said as her niece turned and looked at her. She caught her glancing down at her lips again like she'd done earlier.
Did she have something wrong with her lips?
She licked her lips subconsciously, the action catching Rhae's attention. Dany cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows.
"Hmm?" Rhae said as she look up at her eyes finally.
"The joust. Who's competing?" She asked again. She turned to the yard and noticed the two men making their way to each end of the yard.
"Erm, Ser Gerold Dayne and Ser Jorah Mormont I believe." She said. She nodded as she looked into the yard herself "Yeah, notice the shields. Ser Gerold has a star on a field of black, Ser Jorah has the bear on the field of green." Rhae explained. She just nodded as the horn was blown.
It ended up being a close match and at the end of it, Ser Gerold was the victor of the bout. Ser Jorah stood up from the dirt and held his hand out to shake his opponent's but Ser Gerold just trotted past on the back of his horse completely ignoring the northerner.
"That man will never grow up." She heard Ser Arthur say to her brother behind her. She turned and glanced at him, noticing the displeasure on the dornish knight's face.
"Very rude of him. I don't know why Viserys insists being around that man." She heard her mother say. Dany just raised an eyebrow at her and grinned slightly as if to say "Really?".
"Your brother is misunderstood that's all. He's actually been fairly well behaved during the tourney." Her mother said as she looked across the yard towards the dornish section. Her brother was sat in between Arianne and Quentyn, but from the way he was sat, he looked more interested in talking to his brother-in-law than his wife.
"If you say so mother." She replied. Her mother just sighed and shook her head. She looked at her and noticed the way she straighten up as the herald's horn was blown.
She looked into the yard and realised why her mother had reacted the way she had. Jon, or Ser Falconsbane as he'd bizarrely named himself, entered the yard along with another knight from the Vale, this one belonging to the same house as one of the other competitors Jon had defeated. She only knew this because of the black wheel insignia of House Waynwood on the knight's shield and not because she was taking more notice to his bouts than any of the others.
"J...this mystery knight will want to be careful with this bout, Ser Wallace will want revenge after his brother's elimination." Her mother said, quickly recovering from her slip up. It was too late though, Dany had heard it and it confirmed that her mother knew exactly who was under that helmet.
The crowd seemed infinitely more interested in Jon than they did with Ser Wallace, and who could blame them. Everybody enjoyed the mystery behind an unknown knight, a story of an underdog. It made them feel that if this unknown person could achieve glory like they were doing, then so could they when they put their mind to it.
She had other reasons to be more interested but she still appreciated the message the mystery knight brought.
Ser Wallace glowered at Jon from a distance before lowering the visor on his helm, he was handed his lance and got into position. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed her mother's fingers drumming against her thigh. She put her hand on it and squeezed it in reassurance.
"Don't worry mother, I'm sure Jon will be fine." She assured with a small grin, noticing the way her mother's knee stopped bouncing.
Both mother and daughter looked at each other dead in the eye, one daring the other to deny what had just been said, the other realising it wasn't worth insulting the other's intelligence by doing so. The sound of galloping broke them from their stand off, the two of them turning towards the yard just in time to see Ser Wallace's lance glance off of Jon's shoulder.
Both mother and daughter didn't even try to hide their wince from one another. She noticed that they were still holding each other's hand when her mother squeezed it on the next pass, Jon managing to avoid Ser Wallace's lance and scoring a hit against the man's shield.
"C'mon." She heard her mother whisper to herself. She wasn't even trying to hide it now the cat was out of the bag. It was her turn to squeeze her mother's hand as the third pass occurred, Jon managed to make Ser Wallace wobble in his saddle as his lance struck true, what made her squeeze her mother's hand though was the fact that Jon took a pretty hefty blow to the shoulder for his troubles.
"He's hurt." She heard her mother say as they both watched Jon line up for the next pass. As she turned to look at her, she caught Rhaegar looking at them oddly.
"He'll be fine, I'm sure of it." She reassured her mother yet again, though she wasn't sure if she believed her own words or not.
He's strong, she'd seen the proof of that with what lied underneath all of that clothing.
The two men began galloping towards each other and she realised that she was holding her breath as they got closer and closer.
Come on Jon.
The breath in her chest was released in relief as Jon's lance collided with Ser Wallace's shoulder, the scrape of the wood against steel as he hit his foe made her cringe but not as much as when she saw the way the Vale knight landed on his arm.
The bellowing cry as he collided with the ground made her believe that the man had broken something. Jon didn't even bother checking to see if the knight was alright, he just headed out of the yard to the applause of the crowd.
"He should've at least checked to see if Ser Wallace was okay." She heard her mother say. She turned and looked at mother, noticing that she looked somewhat disappointed with Jon's actions.
"Maybe he had a reason not to." She replied, finding herself subconsciously defending Jon's actions.
Her mother just hummed to herself as the herald walked back into the yard to announce the semi finals, something that genuinely surprised her when it was announced.
Semi finals already?
"There'll be a short interval between now and the semi finals but as soon as that is over, you fine people will witness the first bout of the final three matches, none other than the crown prince himself, his grace, Prince Aegon," The herald announced to the cheers of the crowd "...going one on one with the Darkstar, Ser Gerold Dayne!" He finished, some of the crowd booing like he was a villain from some sort of mummers show.
The applause simmered down enough for the final two competitors to be announced, none of them noticing the way Jon fisted the air in front of him when he realised who he'd be facing.
"And the final match of the semi's is the knight of mystery, your underdog, Ser Falconsbane!" The herald announced, the crowd showing almost the same excitement that they did for the crown prince.
"Against a knight of the Vale, Ser Harrold Hardyng, The Young Falcon!" Came the final announcement. The crowd reacting with decent applause.
It wasn't like Dany was taking much notice of the crowd now though, not when she realised something, something her mother clearly understood as well now.
Ser Harrold Hardyng, The Young Falcon.
Jon Snow, Ser Falconsbane.
Falconsbane.
Now it made much more sense.
The real question now though was what in the world had Harrold Hardyng done to invoke such a reaction out of Jon.
"That boy better not do anything stupid, I swear to all those bloody gods." Her mother said as she sighed and shook her head.
Dany was confused, she couldn't gauge her mother's feelings of Jon with some of the reactions she was witnessing from her. At first she thought it was sexual, something that she wasn't sure how to react to. A small part of her was honestly quite proud of her mother being able to catch the eye of a younger man, problem was the man in question.
Her mother wasn't the only admirer.
Or so she thought at first.
Some of the reactions during the joust weren't the reactions of a secret lover, they were more familial, like she was worried for one of her children. Thinking about it now, they were similar to the reactions she had during Egg's matches.
They were motherly.
She eyed her mother again, like she was trying to locate that final piece to a puzzle.
What is Jon to you, mother?
Rhaegar
"Enjoying yourself your grace?" He heard Arthur say from his right where the renowned knight was stood guard. He turned and gave his friend a lopsided smile.
"As best as I could be Arthur." He replied.
And that was the truth, he was enjoying the contest to the best of abilities. His son was doing very well for himself, having only two matches to win to be crowned champion.
And that was a good thing, or so he told himself. However, it would seem that his mind had other things to be more interested in. Things like the meeting they'd just had with Lord Edmure, or his and Elia's discussion about Rhaenys' future, the odd behaviour his mother and sister were displaying with one another, the way his daughter's eyes followed that mystery knight around with pin point intensity.
And who Ser Falconsbane really was.
With so many clues lying about, it wasn't the most difficult of mysteries he's had to decipher. Though witnessing the mystery knight face off against their foe had stirred up some locked away memories. The way his wife clutched his hand during one of the mystery knight's bouts confirmed that he wasn't the only one who had been reminded of a similar joust almost eighteen years ago.
His mind had eventually been distracted from those thoughts though, when he caught the way his daughter looked at the unknown knight, and then shortly catching his mother looking on intently as well.
All it took was a quick glance towards the stands where the northern party were situated to realise that Jon Snow wasn't present amongst all those attendees. And as the pieces started to fall into place, he eventually noticed the tufts of hair poking out the back of the mystery knight's helm.
Jon Snow was the mystery knight, and his daughter and mother had worked that out a while ago.
This young man, this bastard boy of the North had made quite a name for himself at this tourney. His mother was a fan, his daughter was a fan, if the way he caught his sister looking at him, she was a fan as well. Though he may have a problem on his hands if he's not too careful, the last thing he wanted was an in house conflict over some northern boy.
'Rich coming from you.' Some might say to that. After all, wasn't a conflict started over "some northern girl" years ago.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. He needed to stop bringing these thoughts up.
Lyanna was gone, their child along with her.
He opened his eyes and looked towards his daughter, currently laughing at something his sister had said to her.
She looked so joyful in that moment, her smile as radiant as the sun on the banners of her mother's house. There was no wonder she attracted attention so easily from men and even women alike.
Was it possible to make her happier though?
Would a union with the one she's had her eye on make her so?
It made him and Elia happier eighteen years ago…
Stop. His mind cried.
He looked away from his daughter and into the empty yard, his mind was running again, the what-ifs, the whys. If everything went according to plan, his daughter would get the Stark that she wanted. But was he doing right by her? Was this the best union he could find for her? Some bastard boy who happened to be pretty and useful with a sword?
Or was he giving her what he'd lost? The young Stark met at a tourney at Harrenhal, who happens to catch the eye of one of the King's children, and later goes on to pose as a mystery knight. It was like history was repeating itself.
He'd not really put up much of a fight when Elia had suggested the union, it was almost as if he had accepted it regardless of the circumstances.
But why?
He knew why, he just didn't want to admit it.
What would people think of their King if they found out he was living vicariously through his daughter? The Targaryen getting the Stark they wanted, marrying and falling in love, having many children and growing old together.
That's what he should have had. That's what he and Elia should have had.
But the gods were cruel and they took her away from them.
The gods took both of them away.
He felt a touch on his left hand, looking down he notices Elia placing her hand on top of his.
"Where's your mind at my love?" His wife asks as she looks at him with slight concern. She was always perceptive of his moods.
He turned and gave her a smile "Don't mind me my Queen, just thinking." He vaguely answered.
"Careful, you might do yourself an injury." She replied with a small smile on her face. He chuckled and shook his head.
He heard somebody clear their throat behind him, he turned and noticed Ser Arthur nodding towards the yard where his son and Gerold Dayne were entering the field. Aegon lifted his hand and waved which set the cheering off within the crowd.
He sniffed and kept a straight face as he spoke to his friend "This match up must be a difficult choice for you Ser Arthur, the prince you are vowed to protect or a knight from your own prestigious family. A tough decision for anybody wouldn't you say?"
Arthur snorted "With all due respect your grace, and I say this as pleasantly as possible...I hope my cousin eats shit."
Rhaegar bit his tongue to avoid causing a scene with his laughter but his wife had no such problem, laughing at the dornish knight's vulgar response. Rhaenys turned around at the sound of her mother's laughter, a small smile growing on her face seeing her parents happy.
The herald's voice caught everybody's attention as he announced the two competitors, his son getting a much more pleasant reaction compared to his competition.
"I think he'll do just fine." He heard Elia say as the two of them clapped. He looked at her for a moment and smiled.
"Me too." He replied just in time before the horn was being blown signalling the two competitors to begin.
Thankfully, they were both right in their belief.
It was a very close bout, lasting four passes. And in that fourth pass, his son managed to pivot his body so deftly, that the Dayne knight completely missed his strike, leaving him open for his son's taking.
The crowd cheered loudly along with both sides of Aegon's family, the sound of his brother-in-law Oberyn stood in the stands cackling while grasping his goblet of wine was one of the more noticeable reactions to the bout, along with Arthur's self pleased chuckle he heard not too far away.
He looked over all his family, all of them on their feet clapping away, he didn't miss the suggestive look Margaery gave his son as he winked at her before riding out of the yard. He wasn't the first to leave though, Ser Gerold was long gone.
"We might have another grandchild in nine months time if Aegon crowns his wife the Queen of love and beauty." He heard Elia say amidst the quieting applause. He turned and saw her smiling as she sat back down in her seat.
He followed in her actions, taking his own seat "I guess I wasn't the only one who saw that then." He said, ending with a little chuckle.
"Let's hope Rhae is as happy as them two are when she eventually marries." Elia whispered to him, making sure their daughter didn't hear what was being said.
He leaned in and whispered back "I hope so too. That's if Lord Stark and his son are in agreement of such a union. Hopefully we'll find out tonight before the farewell feast, I plan on talking to the two of them privately."
Elia nodded "Indeed. But make sure to ask our daughter's opinion before anything is announced, the last thing I want is the possibility that I've misread her interest in the boy and her thrust into a marriage she didn't want." She explained as a sad look took over her face. "We know how that plays out." She added.
That we do.
He gently placed his hand on top of hers "Don't worry, if Lord Stark is in agreement, I'll call her in after to see how she feels about such a union. No pressure of course." He assured. His wife sighed as the tension left her body, her nod a sign of her agreement.
He saw Elia subtly nod her head in his sister's direction before raising her eyebrow "And that just leaves one." She whispered to him as she quickly nodded towards his sister again.
He huffed before taking a swig from his wine "Mother took over regarding my sister's future endeavours, "a mother knows best" were her exact words." He said as he placed his goblet down. "As far as I'm concerned, it's in my mother's hands. Whether she's been successful or not, that is yet to be known."
"That's if she's found the time to even work on that." He muttered to himself, both of them knowing what he was referring to. His wife just rolled her eyes and shook her head.
The herald's announcement of the next two competitors saved him from his wife's reply to his pettiness. It was a small victory but a victory all the same.
The mention of the mystery knight and the following applause sent his thoughts back to that boy again, and his chances of advancing into the final.
It didn't take a renowned knight to notice that Snow was nowhere near as good with the lance as he was with a sword. It was safe to say that the main thing that had fuelled him through his rounds was his true grit and determination, though with the way he was holding his shield, that grit was starting to waiver.
To be fair to the lad, he'd gotten further than expected. He assumed the boy's shoulder was just about numb with all the impacts he'd received. He wasn't a quitter that's for sure.
Just another tick on the boys character.
"...and our mystery knight will be taking on our knight from the Vale, Ser Harrold Hardyng, The Young Falcon!" Came the herald's final announcement of the semi finals.
It would seem he had that much on his mind, that it took a second mention of Ser Harrold's nickname from the herald for it to click with him.
He'll have to ask the boy later what Ser Harrold had done to cause such a moniker.
"Fingers crossed for our mystery knight." Elia said as the applause died down and a hush grew around crowd. "It would be interesting to see how our son gets on with potentially his future brother-in-law." She added.
He turned and looked at her startled "You know?" He asked.
Elia rolled her eyes and chuckled "That daughter of ours isn't subtle at all." She answered. He smiled at her as the horn went off signalling the start of the bout.
Jon
He grunted and gritted his teeth as he lifted his lance, he was struggling before the bout had even started, but after two passes against this cunt, his body was screaming.
He'd kept his armour on in between rounds, dreading to see the damage that had been done. He was fully expecting to pull his plate off later and be faced with his entire torso littered with black and blue bruises. Another part of him also didn't want his sister to see the evidence of his stupidity.
Because that's what it was, stupid. Stupid pettiness.
But then he'd see his sister's face as it fell, the cruel remarks affecting her more than she'd admit. Again, if Arya hadn't been there and he'd heard what they were saying about her, he'd have blood on his hands.
Well, more blood than he currently had.
His horse moved into action as he readjusted in his saddle, his opponent springing into action shortly after. He'd already eliminated three of the four arseholes, with more effort than he'd like to admit. But this one, the organ grinder of the group, Harry the Arse he remembers Lady Myranda calling him, this one was the one he wanted most.
The two of them collided in the centre, both of them missing each of their strikes. He grumbled under his breath as his lance hit fresh air, the muttering from the crowd as both riders remained unscathed.
They wanted blood, he wanted blood, he was providing them with entertainment.
It was a win win for everybody.
Who was he kidding, if Master M was here, he'd think that his actions were petty, that his quest for some type of vengeance was a fools game.
But Master M wasn't here right now so it didn't matter.
He looked across to the stands and noticed the royal family watching with interest, his grandmother looking in his direction with what looked like a mixture of worry and annoyance on her face.
Shit, what would she say if she knew it was him? If she found out why he was doing what he was doing?
From the few times he's met up with her, he got the feeling that she wasn't a woman to be trifled with. The chances of him getting a clip around the back of his head were becoming bigger and bigger by the second.
And his grandmother was clearly an intelligent person, if she'd not worked out his motives then the off the cuff nickname he'd given himself had probably done the trick.
He charged towards Ser Arse again, this time scraping his lance across the face of the man's chequered shield. It wasn't without cost though, his opponents lance glancing him in the shoulder.
The pain is within his being, and he is the master of his being.
The pain didn't dictate him, it was he who dictated how to process that pain.
And he chose to ignore it.
...until later, when he has a little lie down.
The third pass came and went, this time he managed to lift his shield up enough to block the cunts strike. He was rewarded with a clear hit at Ser Harry's shoulder, though he whiffed and clashed with his shield again instead.
He'd not actually hit him yet.
...and it was pissing him off.
He breathed heavily through his nose, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Uncle Aemon had told him that a calm mind prospered.
And it worked, in a way, this time the two of them trading blows, each with a strike each on the others shoulder. By the way the arse wobbled on his horse, he guessed that he'd dealt with it a lot worse than Jon did, his eyes closing as he grunted was his only reaction.
My arm may fall off during the night.
The crowd calmed down as the two horses turned at either end of the field, this was the fourth pass, the one where he got most of his wins. Ser Harrold was looking prime for the picking.
The heavy thud of the horses hooves filled the yard as the crowd went silent, people respecting that full concentration was needed.
Harrold looked very shaky as they approached and that was enough for Jon to go for the winning blow, right in the shoulder. The moment he felt his lance connect with the other man's person, he realised that something was wrong. Yes he'd managed to unhorse the arsehole, but he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be staring up at the sky right now.
Unless he'd come off his horse at the same time.
He groaned as he stood up from the dirt, noticing Harrold doing the same thing. The crowd were cheering when they saw them get to their feet, and it almost distracted him from the sword strike that had been sent his way.
He rolled out of the way of the strike, gritting his teeth as he did so. He'd forgotten about this rule, because it wasn't part of his plan really. A slow grin grew on his face as he realised that it was now one on one combat due to the double unseating. The blunted tourney sword was unsheathed from the old sword belt that came with the armour, the belt in question discarded to the side of the yard.
Now he could play.
He blocked the second strike from Harrold with ease, thanking Master M for his unorthodox lessons on fighting with two swords. If it wasn't for said lessons, he'd be holding this sword with his prominent hand, and with the numb feeling in his right shoulder, he was pretty sure that the strike he'd just blocked would have knocked the blade right out of his hand.
Hardyng steeped back and steadied his stance, attempting to slowly circle him like a hunting wolf.
Honestly, he wanted to laugh. He'd sneaked a few looks at Hardyng's sparring sessions, quietly learning, absorbing information.
You can never have too much knowledge. Master M would whisper to him during meditation lessons.
Hardyng was a capable swordsman, clean strikes and blocks were his bread and butter. But gods was he boring, no flair, no tricks, as predictable as the sun setting. That could sometimes be a good thing, but you had to be incredibly strong with your fundamentals to make up for it. Ser Barristan was a good example of that, he'd eyed the old knight during a spar with one of his brothers, noticing the same parries and strike patterns, but fuck, the man really lived up to the stories with his prowess, the way he used his superior skill to force his brother into a fight on his terms and not his opponents.
Ser Harrold Hardyng was not Ser Barristan, he was far from it.
Jon lazily held his sword as he turned on the spot, keeping an eye on the Vale knight. The hush of the crowd allowed him to clear his thoughts, making him realise why he was doing all of this in the first place.
Pain and humiliation was the name of the game, a game that dear Harrold here didn't even know he was playing.
"Let's make this quick, I don't want to waste another minute with you." He heard Harrold muffle from underneath his helm.
Jon poked his sword out swiftly, the idiot jumped backwards to avoid it but Jon managed to clip him on the wrist.
"I suppose you think your clever, walking around with a name like that." Harry said as he tried to slash down at Jon. It was easily avoided as he rolled his good shoulder and moved out of the way. "Knowing that I mean so much to you is so heart warming, it really brings a smile to my face." He continued.
It was Jon's turn to circle his opponent, though compared to Harry, Jon was very lax in his movement.
"At the end of the day, all you'll be remembered for is the mystery knight that got beat by the man he was trying to taunt!" Harry growled out as he pivoted to his right and tried to catch Jon out with a side slash.
I don't think he knows who I am?
Jon avoided the strike by moving in close, just enough to avoid the hit and push Harry backwards with force. The arse only just managed to stay on his feet.
"You're just delaying the inevitable! Yield so I can move on to the final and you can go back to wherever it is you're from!" Harrold yelled from behind his helm.
He doesn't know it's me.
Haha!
He dropped his shoulder and avoided another strike, behind Harrold's visor, he could see the way his eyes widened as Jon sprang forward, driving his mailed fist into the steel protecting little Harrold's poor little throat.
He didn't dint the steel but the impact it had on his throat was clear as day.
Harry flinched backwards and tried to grasp at his throat futility. Distracted with his predicament, Jon took full advantage, cleaving Harry's sword out of his hand with his own and driving his boot into his chest, sending him careening backwards and on to his arse.
He kicked Harry's sword away that he was trying to grasp for and dropped a knee on his stomach, pushing him into the ground.
"Yield." He said as he held his sword at the gap of Harry's visor.
The poor sod looked like he was still trying to recover from the strike to his windpipe but eventually he nodded, not without glaring at him.
Before Jon could get up, Harrold decided to open his dumb mouth again.
"This isn't over. I'll get your name, and I'll make sure to make your like a living hell." He growls as he stupidly decided to threaten Jon.
Jon fought the urge to drive the blunted steel through the visor and into the cunt's eye, instead resorting to a little threat of his own.
He lifted his visor up a bit, just enough so only Harrold could see. Jon could pinpoint the moment the idiot realised he'd fucked up just from the way his eyes widened with recognition.
He kept his voice low but still dangerous as he gave Harry a watertight promise "The next time you look or speak about my family is the day you forfeit your life to me, I beg you understand the severity of my promise." He coldly warned the lord.
A look of anger came across the sad excuse for a knight "You think you can just threaten me without any repercussions? A bastard doesn't get to threaten the heir to the Vale without punishment." Harrold answered back.
"You're not the heir, you're the heir's heir." He answered back.
Harrold almost snarled as he replied "More than you bastard. What are you, sixth...seventh in line to that frozen wasteland you call home? By the time me and that red headed sister of yours are married, you'll be even further down that line. All it takes is a couple of children sired on her and you become truly irrelevant." He claimed, a dirty smile at the end.
The heat of his blood boiling could be felt as his brow perspired, the beat of his pulse in his ears was prominent. He took more willpower than he'd like to admit to not rip the cunt's helm off and pummel his face into mist.
Instead, he settled for one final warning "It doesn't matter anyway, my sister will never be able to marry you."
Even with Jon's knee pressing him into the ground, the idiot still tried to make out he had the higher ground on this conversation as he lifted his chin and grinned "And why is that?" He asked.
Jon lifted his knee from Harry and grabbed his arm, hauling him up to his feet abruptly. The crowd cheered as they realised who had won but Jon wasn't taking much notice of them, he was more interested in leaving Harrold one last warning.
"She can't marry a dead man." He replied, patting Harrold on the shoulder with more force than necessary and leaving him stood there. Jon would have stayed to see the man's reaction but he was honestly scared that he would actually do something stupid if he made another snide remark.
He gave the crowd a wave or two as he walked to his horse before leaving the yard. He didn't catch the concerned look on both his uncle Ned or his grandmother as he walked out, he was too busy looking at the beaming smile his little sister was giving him as he approached their tent.
"You did it!" Arya exclaimed as he entered the tent. She hugged his side as he walked over to the bench, he smiled down at her in response.
A sigh of relief filled the tent as he pulled his helm off, Arya handing him a wet rag to wash over his face.
"What did you say to him just then?" She asked as he pulled off his gloves.
He shrugged his shoulders as grabbed his water skin, the water running down his throat soothed him, in more ways than one.
"Just said I'd kill him if he pisses me off again." He replied. Arya looked down at the rag he'd handed back to her.
"Don't do that. You'll just get in trouble if you did." She replied, much too miserably for Jon's liking.
He patted the seat next to him and Arya understood his intentions as she sat down beside him. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
"Don't worry, it won't come to that. I think Harry the Arse is much too spooked to do anything stupid." He assured, not totally believing his own words if he was being honest with himself.
"I hope so." She said. He squeezed her shoulder again and she looked up at him a smiled, the smile she gave him morphed into a grin after a few seconds. He looked at her, brow furrowed.
"Should I be concerned with this sudden change of mood?" He asked, slightly grinning himself at seeing his sister's mood brighten.
She pulled a face and shook her head "No, I don't think so. Just wondering who you plan on crowning when you win." She said as she side eyed him.
He just huffed and shook his head "That's the last thing that's been on my mind as of late." He replied. Arya looked at him with sympathy.
"Is it weird?" She asked.
He looked at her and noticed the way she picked at her thumb "Is what weird?" He replied.
"You'll be facing the crown prince in the final...your brother." She said, the last bit almost whispered.
He sighed as he looked down at his hands in front of him "Sort of, I think the fact that I know and they don't is what makes it surreal. It's like they aren't truly my family until I've met them and they know who I am." He explained.
"Will they really be your family when they do know though? There's family that are just bonded with blood and then there's family that loves and cares for you and have done for years." She said as she carried on looking down at her hands.
He knew what she was doing and he couldn't blame her for it either, if anything, it soothed his heart to know that she was being protective.
"You'll always be my sister, you know that right?" He reassured. Arya nodded as she looked at him.
He sighed as he looked back down at his hands again "Your father has really fucked up Arya, and the royal family will want blood for what he's done." He said. He felt Arya move in her seat.
"He did all those things to protect you, our family was destroyed in that war. He needed something in return after all that loss, and he did what he did because he loved his sister, just like you love me. You'd have done the same for me." She said, doing her best not to shout as she became more and more emotional.
"I know all of this Arya, it's all I can think about lately." He said as he shook his head. "I'm in the middle of it all and I hate it. Whichever way it goes, I'm going to be accused of choosing sides or betraying someone. I'm going to come out the end of this a villain."
"Then don't tell them, please don't tell them." Arya pleaded as she looked at him. He didn't even have to look at her to know that she was doing that thing where she makes her eyes bigger.
"They already know Arya, it's too late." He told her, a look of horror and betrayal appeared on her face.
It gutted him.
"You told them? Why?" She answered back in anger.
"I didn't tell them Arya, the dowager Queen worked it out all by herself!" He snapped back, instant regret when he saw her reaction.
She looked away from him and he saw her sigh. The way she jumped as he put his arm around her shoulders made him feel even worse.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you Arya, it wasn't fair." He said.
He felt her shrug her shoulders underneath his arm and he squeezed them in comfort.
"Father is going to be punished isn't he? And you're going to leave again." She said in a small voice. She seemed resigned to the outcome of the situation.
"I don't know what will happen Arya." He admitted. And that was the truth, he really didn't know what was going to happen when the truth finally came out to the King.
His father. His mind whispered to him. He'd still not come to terms with that fact, so much so, he purposefully avoided looking at him in the stands.
"They're going to take you and father away from me." Arya whispered before sniffing. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head.
"I'm not going to let them take your father away from you." He said as he tried to reassure her. Deep down, it felt like an empty promise though.
The flap of their tent was opened abruptly, the herald letting himself in like he owned the place.
"The final bout is soon, make sure you are rea..."
"Fuck. Off." Jon growled out as he held his upset sister. The man made the wise decision to nod and leave the tent without another word.
"You better get ready, don't want to keep them waiting." His sister said as she removed herself from underneath his arm.
"Arya..."
The herald poked his head through the tent flap "We really can't wait any longer." He said as he looked at the two of them with undisguised intrigue.
He huffed and stood from his seat "I'm coming, for fuck sake." He said as the herald nodded and left.
He took a large swig from his water skin before pouring some of it over his face. Unfortunately, it didn't wash away the sense of guilt he was feeling.
He pulled on his gloves and held his hand out for Arya to take, she did so almost instantly. It wasn't the most intimate hug he'd given her due to the layer of steel between them but the fact that she was even receptive was enough for Jon.
"Wish me luck little wolf. We'll talk more about this when I'm done out there." Jon assured. He felt her nod her head in response before letting go.
"Good luck." She said with a tiny smile. He looked down at her and smiled back before lifting his helm back on his head. He had to put it on with one hand since the pain in his right shoulder was starting to really flair up.
The difference in sound between the inside of the tent and the yard was like night and day, the excitement in the stands was obvious from the way the crowd was clapping and cheering.
Arya eventually followed him out of the tent, walking to his horse and untying it from the hitching post. She brought the horse across to where he was stood and gave him a little smile as he clapped her on the shoulder.
It was rather difficult mounting his steed with one arm but he managed it anyway, the lance and the shield being handed to him by his sister shortly after.
The quicker this is over the better.
It had a 'leave the best till last' feel to it as the herald announced him first, the nickname that he'd given himself pretty much redundant now. The cheers weren't as loud as they were before since most people were supporting the prince over him.
If only they knew.
He sat there on the back of his horse looking across at the heir to the Iron Throne, the son of the King, his brother. Seated on his black stallion and decked out in polished black steel with gold and ruby trimmings.
It still hadn't sunk in that he was facing off with his brother, it still hadn't sunk in that the Targaryens were his family. The only one that felt anything close to family was his grandmother, and that's probably because she was the closest thing to a mother that he's ever had.
The herald's horn blowing signalled the start of the bout and the beginning of his conundrum.
How does he deal with this?
Does he go all out for the win? He wasn't sure. He did know that the only thing fuelling him was petty male pride at this point, the main reason for even entering the joust in the first place being fulfilled.
If he threw the bout, some people may notice it and try to convince people that the crown prince bribed him, essentially paying to win. At the end of the day though, it didn't matter.
He'd been that distracted with his conundrum that he didn't even see the lance crashing into his shoulder, but he did feel the wind being knocked out of him as his back connected with the dirt.
He released a long wheeze as he laid there. At least the joust was over now, he could close his eyes and take a quick nap.
Yeah, that felt like the best plan right about now.
..
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