The Prince's Tourney II

At the head of the riders was my father—King Robert Baratheon. He was seated upon a well-groomed black Palfrey that had a lush dark mane and tail with his back straight, a charming smile decorated his handsome face.

He was clothed in a silk black surcoat inlaid with the purest gold, a golden stag laid embroidered on the position of his heart. He was wearing a silk black long-sleeved tunic underneath the fashionable surcoat.

Resting on his well-combed black hair was a large and robust crown, fashioned out of gold with amber gemstones incorporated into it. It was also styled in the image of antlers, further emphasizing the power of his new dynasty.

He looked very much like a King.

On his left was Jon Arryn, his Hand. He was similarly dressed in a black plain surcoat with a silver falcon embroidered on it and underneath, he was wearing a long-sleeved dark-blue tunic that accentuated the color of his eyes. He had a pleasant smile resting on his aged face.

Moving next to Jon Arryn also was a regal middle-aged man. He had balding blonde hair, bright green calculating eyes, and an overall hard and unmoving face that made it difficult to determine his mood.

He was also dressed in a black surcoat with golden inlays, a golden lion laid embroidered on his chest, and a gold-colored long-sleeved tunic covered his torso underneath the surcoat. He was my maternal grandfather and Warden of the West, Tywin Lannister.

On my father's right was a long-faced young man who looked to be my father's age. He had long brown hair, grey eyes as soft as fog, and a relatively comely visage or face. He had a serious air around him.

His black surcoat had a silver or grey wolf embroidered on it and his long-sleeved tunic was as white and fine as snow. He was Eddark Stark, Warden of the North and the best friend of my father.

A man who rode with my father during his rebellion.

Riding next to him were my two paternal uncles, Renly and Stannis Baratheon. They were dressed just like my father. Stannis, my other uncle was a tall, large, and sinewy man with dark blue eyes, jet-black hair, pale lips, heavy brows, and an ice cold clean shaven face adorned with a faint frown.

He was the Lord of Dragonstone, a place I have no knowledge of, and the Master of Ships.

Behind my father and those riding on his left and right sides, were a retinue of lords dressed in similar fashion with knights in their gleaming armors flanking the sides of the column, holding flags and waving the banners of the Lords.

A line of men in normal apparel followed the knights on foot, blowing trumpets and banging drums and gongs in a practiced fashion.

With slow and steady trots, the Palfreys marched along the field in an orderly manner, their hoofbeats echoing all over as the shouts of the bystanders drowned the place, moving in a roundabout manner.

Smiling, I ignore the girlish squeals of the Farman siblings who are ogling at some of the young Lords and Knights and focus my attention on the father and those near him as they bypass our platform after flashing me and my mother some looks.

Everything from the way they are dressed to their formation and placements screamed of symbolism, as expected of a medieval-based society.

With a glance, I could identify who my father cherished the most or who were the most important on the continent just from the placement of the riders.

His top two were Jon Arryn who he treats like a father and Eddard Stark who he treats like a brother, his only brother. I could understand Jon Arryn because from what I'd heard, my grandparents weren't alive but Eddard Stark was an entirely different case.

Prior to the tourney, the various Lords, Ladies, and all the guests came and settled in Kingslanding first from all over the continent. Due to this, I met most of the noblemen and women, especially my relatives and those close to my family.

When I met Eddard Stark in the company of my dad and his siblings, I could discern their dynamic from a glance. It was evident that my father valued the serious Northerner more than his blood siblings.

The amusing thing was that Stannis and Renly know that even though they did their best to hide it, the effect it had on them still showed from time to time.

Especially, Stannis who looked like he had a lifelong grudge against my father and Lord Stark. My father did not even do anything to conceal that fact, it was plain for all to see.

My grandfather, on account of the fact he is the richest man on the continent and his father-in-law, was positioned at the front but I didn't think he cared much for that.

From my limited interaction with him, I knew that he didn't really put my father in his eyes, he looked at everyone like their pawns or pieces in a chess game, even me.

The only difference was the fact that he held some love and affection for me, so at best I'd be a rook. He looked at my uncle Jaime and my mother differently though, as if they were his greatest masterpiece, especially Jaime.

I heard I have another uncle but I hadn't seen him yet and judging by the way, no one spoke about him in my presence, I could tell he wasn't well-loved...

Some of the Lords in the row behind my father like Lord Hoster Tully of the Riverlands, and Lord Mace Tyrell of the Reach were recognizable but the rest were unknowns.

After all, not everyone could meet the Crown Prince...

Suddenly, the trumpeter made a loud ringing sound as the procession came to a halt in front of us.

The bystanders stopped their noise-making and immediately, the drummers together with those holding the gongs beat their instruments, producing one bright boom that resounded everywhere.

My father, together with those at the front with him, climb off their horses and landed with a soft thump. Men immediately dashed to their horses and held their reins while my father straightened himself and strode leisurely to the steps, his eyes locked on my face.

The place eerily silent, my father climbed the steps towards us on the platform as my uncles and the rest walked to their respective seats on the left and right sides of our elevated platform.

The rest of the Lords, after getting their horses handled also strode to their seats, leaving the arena or field occupied by the stable boys or men and the horses.

The moment my father reached us, the Farman siblings got up and curtsied gracefully, beautiful smiles adorning their youthful faces, their eyes shining in delight.

He flashed them a pleasant smile, walked up to us, and kissed the head of my stoic mother and my forehead.

"Are you comfortable my Queen?" He asked gently, his deep voice sounding in my ear as in the corner of my eyes, I watch the horses being drawn away by the stable boys. The knights accompanied them.

"I am my King, but it'll be best to start the Tourney before Joffrey doesn't share my mood." She looked at me and replied softly with a faint smile.

My father arched an eyebrow in amusement and after glancing at me, he shook his head and turned to face the whole arena.

"Greetings Ladies and Gents of the Seven Kingdoms!" He walked to the edge and shouted, his powerful voice rippled all over. "It's been a little more than six moons since I became your King and by the blessings of the Gods, the Queen conceived and has brought forth Joffery Baratheon, my son and heir.

"Today, we are here to celebrate his birth and to thank both the old and new Gods for such a gift.

"Today is a day to make merry and enjoy the fruits of our land's labor after the war so drink wine, eat, fight, enjoy yourself, and may the best man win the tourney!"

The moment he finished, the whole place erupted with a thunderous roar as everyone started chanting vigorously with wild fervor.

"Long live King Robert Baratheon, Long live the King!"

"Long live King Robert Baratheon, Long live the King!"

"Long live King Robert Baratheon, Long live the King!"

"Long live King Robert Baratheon, Long live the King!"

"Long live the Ki...."

"Long live the..."

And thus the tourney began in earnest...