Chapter 48 (Revamped)

(Firmridge, the Riverlands)

Men trotted out with their prized steeds and the best quality armor gold could buy. Participating in the joust were some of the finest knights the realm had to offer. 

Tents littered the grounds and squires rushed all around their knights, doing their best to ensure everything was ready. One mistake could prove costly, something they wanted to avoid lest they be hunted down by the deceased kin.

Though unnoticeable to most, the lack of some of the most revered knights of the realm could be felt by the older attendees, especially those who had been present in the great tourneys of the past.

Barristan Selmy, Jonother Darry, and Lewyn Martell were just some of those fallen legends. Amongst the living but unable to attend were Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower.

Still, to many, there was hope that this joust would allow new and upcoming knights to usher in a new era of chivalry. With names like Yohn Royce and Baelor Hightower attending, surely anyone who manages to unseat them would be able to make a name for themselves.

Alongside them would be favorites from the Royal Guard, most notably Lord Commander Raymond Feld, there were others of course but none came close to their infamous superior.

Dark horses like Sandor Clegane were also crowd favorites, the grandson of a kennel master, he was considered an inspiration to many of the smallfolk who sought to rise like his grandsire had.

Naturally, it would not be a joust if there weren't a few mystery knights present, their armor was of lesser quality, and their anonymity made it difficult to root for them, though they certainly held the crowd's interest.

This joust may have lacked some of the prestigious names that its predecessors had, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that new names and capable knights would arise.

Perhaps they would even outshine those of the past, just as the King that presided over it had done.

…

Trotting over to the royal box, Oberyn sent a salacious look to his lover who was sitting next to his sister.

Bowing his head to Erlend as proprietary demands, Oberyn stopped his horse right in front of his niece. "Well then my dear niece, it seems I lack a lady's favor, would you honor me with yours." He said. "Unless his Majesty, would honor me with his own."

Rolling his eyes at his lover's brother "I'm not fucking you Oberyn." Erlend stated blankly. This was neither the first nor the last time his friend had attempted to proposition him.

The lack of reactions from the children, except Dany who predictably glared at the adventurous dornish prince, showed just how used they were to their Uncle's nonsense.

Elia for her part rolled her eyes at her brother, while his lover merely chucked in amusement.

"Here you go, Uncle. You better win this one, I have a lot of crowns riding on you." Rhaenys huffed while she tied her favor to her Uncle's shoulder.

Feigning a hurtful look on his face "Why my dear niece, how could you use your own uncle as a means to gain some gold!" Oberyn exclaimed.

"You told me to bet on you." Was her deadpanned reply.

This gained the prince a stern look from both his sister and Erlend, who did not look pleased at all at that response.

The prince wisely made his escape while he still could, "Well look at the time. I should get going, have a joust to win."

"I hope Clegane knocks off his horse." Danaerys voiced.

"You'd have me lose my gold," Rhaenys said.

"What's worth more, the smug look wiped off his face or some gold you'll just get back from his Majesty."

The young princess had no response to that.

"Relax Dany, didn't Dad tell you not to sound so formal all the time," Edmund interjected.

Glaring at her technical foster brother, "His Majesty should be addressed respectfully at all times. There are none here who are his equals." the young princess insisted.

Giving a hesitant glance to Rhaenys who shrugged her shoulders, Edmund had no clue what to say to the stubborn princess in order to change her mind.

Unknown to both the young children, the far mentally older Danaerys refused to call Erlend anything that remotely hinted at kinship, fearing that he would look at her as a father to his daughter, rather than the position she truly sought.

Incest between Targaryens might be normal, but Erlend wasn't one, despite how many would harp on about his connections to the daughter of that idiot 'great' king, especially once his bonded were revealed to the world at large.

She genuinely feared destroying any potential relations that could start between them, so she did her best to avoid it regardless of how these little brats insisted she act. Once she was back to her older form, she had full confidence that she'd be able to get her beloved's attention, her mother was proof of that at least.

…

Trumpets heralded the arrival of the knights participating in the joust.

Entering the lists their polished armors shone with a bright gleam. White, black, and red were just a few of the colors present. Their armor served as reflections for the arms of their houses.

Though that did not only encompass the nobility, many of the gentry present proudly wore the coat of arms of their noble wives.

There were of course the still single and unwed gentry who wore fine plate armor, the best that money could buy, helped in no small part by the pay they received from serving under the King.

With them were arms of odd designs, someone even had a bush as their mainstay element, a clear mockery towards the nobility. Regardless, every single participant, be it noble, gentry, hedge, or mystery knight wore something that represented their status and position.

It created a fascinating array of colors, that seemed to go on for miles on end, with the crowds looking in fascination at it all. Pointing at anything they found interesting or considered outlandish.

Yohn Royce was the name on everyone's tongues, many assumed as the most experienced jouster among those present, that he'd have the best shot at winning this event with ease. Bets ranging from small and large were placed upon him and against his opponents.

Among his opponents were the likes of Ser Baelor Brightsmile, a Knight of great repute and the Reach's most favored, seconded only by Lord Desmond Osgrey and his rival Mathis Rowan. 

Lord Lorimas Mudd, the victor of the Melee had his proponents from the Riverlands and the Vale who praised his name for all to hear, calling him invincible and that he was all but assured victory over his foes with his seemingly unending vigor.

However, it must be noted that there were just as many who bet against him in the hopes that someone would bring down the seemingly invincible warrior for his actions against those who'd scheme against him.

Ser Gerion Lannister was armored in red and gold, showing off the colors of his house proudly, his armor littered with the intricate carvings of the Lannister lion. Surrounding him were numerous knights from the West all keen on conversing with the most jovial of the Lannister pride.

Prince Oberyn Martell rode proudly, his facial expressions taunting his soon-to-be opponents, and his armor shined particularly bright, its eye-catching orange mixed in with red and gold held an almost hypnotic effect on those who kept their eyes too long.

As the heralds once again sounded the trumpets, the first tilt started with thunderous hooves of the galloping steeds, while those who would enter soon looked on with a keen eye, seeking any weakness they could take advantage of.

Time will tell who wins their illustrious event.

…

She watched with rapt attention whenever her husband entered the lists, it was as if they were young once more, her a curious maiden and him an adventurous knight. He looked so dashing, was it a wonder she fell for him when they first met?

Mya looked worried just as she had been during the melee, "You need not worry for him, few would dare harm him in front of Lenny." she whispered to her daughter, hoping to assuage her fears.

His armor was colored an eye-catching shade of maroon, and intricate runes colored silver seemed to meld into it, a gift from her nephew no doubt, he was always one for theatrics. 'None shall penetrate his armor.' He claimed and she believed him.

If he could bring dragons back to this world and cast out magic that shattered whole hordes, then it would not be that difficult for him to create such armor.

Her purple favor was tied around his shoulders, proudly proclaiming to the realm to whom he belonged. Her husband cared not for the wenches that tried to slip into his pants, only her. 

A stark contrast to her silly nephew.

Truthfully, she had no idea where Lenny got his womanizing ways from, his father had been honorable to a fault and his mother a demure and kind woman. There was a reason Jon Arryn was willing to marry his youngest sister to the descendants of what was once their most fearsome enemies.

Though it was amusing to think of what his face would look like had he been told of who the next Arryn Lord would be.

A natural-born son, from a Tully of all things, the next heir to the Vale. At least the stupid girl was loyal to Lenny, she dreaded what could've occurred otherwise.

Her homeland would've been painted red, she knew that for a certainty.

…

The jousting went on for hours on end, with many knights proving their skill to all to see. 

Prince Oberyn started everything off when unseated his opponents with shocking ease, say what you will about the man, but he was not weak. 

Among those beaten by him were the likes of Randyll Tarly who proved to be his most troublesome foe, it took seven lances before the Marcher lord was unhorsed, and even then it seemed as if the older Lord would have still kept going had it not been for the pointed look from the King.

The man looked ready to unsheath his blade and fall upon the prince, before ultimately choosing wisely and leaving the area.

Jasper Redfort won against the mystery knight he faced, unfortunately, he found himself unhorsed when he faced his fellow heir soon after, Andar Royce, the bronze heir proved to be far more experienced than the Redfort when it came to the tilts.

In a show of good sportsmanship, as her nephew put it, Andar helped his fallen opponent up and helped him back to his tent, earning both of them approving nods from their fathers.

Raymond Feld, Lord Commander of the Royal Guard proved to those who were unaware of his exploits in battle, that he was certainly no pushover. Every opponent that faced him found themselves swiftly unhorsed with little fanfare, it was getting so ridiculous that a few of them gave up before they could face the man, seeing how brutal he was with those he faced.

Then came old Yohn himself, who unhorsed William Dustin in the first tilt, and Ser Marcus Darry soon after. Although the Darry lord proved himself the better foe, the bronze lord took four tilts to unseat him.

Tilt after tilt occurred, to the point that she stopped paying attention to them, impressive as they were, it became far too repetitive for her liking.

She instead chose to watch the expressions of those around her, like the rest of the Royal Family she was seated close to Lenny, his expression seemed to be that of utter concentration.

Yet, she knew he was just as bored as her.

This silly 'son' of hers couldn't hide his true emotions from her, she had raised him after all. It was startling seeing him so composed and regal, gone was the scrawny boy who ran around the manor and caused mischief wherever he went.

She missed the carefree expression he held as a child, that honest, wonderful, and bright mind seemed to almost shrink inwardly, replaced by a calculating and invincible demeanor he put for all to see.

Was Mya going to end up like him? At the moment she didn't stand to inherit much, aside from an absurd amount of gold and that often would be more than worth it for most of the leeches.

Being the adopted sister of the King gave her a lot of perceived influence. Looking worriedly at her daughter, Dalia decided then and there that she would not allow her daughter to take the same path Erlend did.

Erlend had no choice, much to her regret, Mya at least had the luxury to avoid it.

…

Lorimas rode down his opponents one after the other, his famed stamina made it almost impossible for him to tire and hence more prone to mistakes.

Desmond Osgrey, Vardis Egen, Rodrik Ryswell, and William Mooton were just a few of the names that found them unseated by his lance. It made for quite the sight, as the Mudd Lord became a favorite among the crowds.

Gold seemed to change hands faster than the eye could see, as many found themselves either losing gold or gaining it.

Some scowled in annoyance at the Mudd lord's unbeatable streak, only surpassed by the annoyance the Stormlanders and Reachmen had for Prince Oberyn's streak. While others cheered for both, their popularity was apparent with the common masses.

"Dad will win this," Mya said confidently, Lorimas having just unhorsed Lord Tytos Blackwood.

There was a noise of disagreement from one of the sand snakes sitting nearby, Obara being the most vocal. "Please little girl, obviously my father is the better rider."

"If you mean riding cock, then yes I would agree," Mya responded snarkily.

Dalia pinched the bridge of her nose, "Seven give me strength."

Of all the things she had to pick from Erlend, her sarcasm wasn't one she'd have wanted her to get.

Obara seemed non-pulsed by Mya's response, "He does that well too, I suppose."

These earned her an incredulous look from the rest of the royal children, while her sisters and Ellaria snickered at her words. Elia looked both parts proud and exacerbated with her niece while their newest addition, one lady Ashara Dayne just shook her head in bemusement.

That woman's presence confused Dalia to an extent, one day she was glaring holes into her nephew's head, and the second day she looked at him like he was the only thing worth a damn. While the rest of the Royal Family had some suspicions about what exactly occurred between the two, they kept mum about it, as it would be something they could handle after the tourney.

When Yohn Royce faced Prince Oberyn, they found themselves facing tilt after tilt, with no apparent victor that could be proclaimed.

Fifteen lances were lost before both men chose to dismount and face each other with steel. While Yohn showed himself skilled just as he had done in the melee, the much younger Oberyn proved to be his better, coming out victorious in the match with the crowd cheering him on.

Just like that, one of the favorites for the joust found himself beaten. It did increase the odds in the dornish prince's favor at least.

By the end of the day, only ten knights remained, who would compete against each other on the next day to decide the victor. Lorimas had won the last tilt against Mathis Rowan, who put up an impressive fight despite being outmatched by the Mudd Lord.

She wouldn't be surprised if the man boasted this to his rival Lord Desmond who hadn't lasted as long as he had. Those two were nearly becoming as bad as the Bracken and Blackwood, though no blood had been spilled yet.

Their mutual dislike of the Tyrell Oaf was strong enough to keep them from purposely weakening each other and giving the flower some breathing room.

She knew Erlend wanted to arrange a match between the newborn Osgrey heir and the youngest Rowan daughter. They were 'kingsmen' as he called and keeping them strong enough to contest the Tyrells was a priority for her nephew.

The Reach was far too important of a region to leave untouched.

Understandable, not many wanted to leave the Redwyne hag in such a strong position again, some of these very men had been close friends with Luthor Tyrell after all.

"I had no idea Lord Lorimas was such a skilled rider," Ellaria said conversationally to her. The eccentric woman proved to be a better friend than most of her fellow ladies.

"He is," she said, her mind going back to their days of old.

"I heard some claim he won your hand through a tourney." Ellaria looked at her curiously, Mya and the rest of the children paid rapt attention, waiting for her to respond.

"We agreed on the marriage long before that. The tourney was just something my brother cooked up, wanting to make my wedding seem special."

"What if someone else won the Tourney?"

Dalia snorted at that, "Then he wouldn't have survived the Tourney."

The gasps of shock and nervous giggles from the children could be heard in the background.

A smile graced Ellaria's lips, "You sure you don't want to join us? Me and Oberyn are quite interested in trying this vaunted stamina of the Iron Mudd."

"Are you trying to sleep with the whole family?" Dalia rolled her eyes at her friend. "At this point, who haven't you two propositioned?"

Ellaria simply laughed in response, before the two made their way to the wheelhouse, it was time for the nightly feast.

In the coming day, the victor of the Joust would be decided.