Show Of Determination

Aerion readied his lance and kept his wild horse steady, waiting for the match to start.

"May this round of jousting commence!"

He rode forwards with confidence as he prepared to clash against Renly Baratheon. With every passing second, the two mounted competitors galloped closer. Tensions rose, their hearts started to beat faster... but it all ended swiftly.

Aerion's eyes glowed violet as he saw through Renly Baratheon and smashed his lance into Renly's armour. The poor Baratheon fell, collapsing on the ground beneath Aerion Targaryen who steadied his horse. He looked down on him for a moment before turning his gaze elsewhere and riding away.

The crowd cheered loudly for Aerion Targaryen's victory, even if it was a short round.

~

The Grand Joust proceeded as expected all the way into the Top Eight. Aerion Targaryen found some difficulty in his later two opponents but he swiftly adapted and grew from those experiences. Or rather, he removed the dust from his brilliant lance over time.

His next opponent would be Loras Tyrell, who was barely fifteen years old yet an impressive talent nonetheless. He had managed to carve a way into the top eight, felling three capable knights as he did so. Such valour did not go noticed, naturally.

The two met in the stands amongst the crowd before the match to have a little discussion.

"You fight well, Loras, and you have the favour of the crowd." Aerion Targaryen praised, even smiling a little as he did so. "Our match will be one worth writing a song about, I'm sure."

"Hahaha... you praise me far too much, Your Grace." Loras Tyrell chuckled and bowed in a humble manner. "Whether it is in popularity, beauty, swordsmanship or jousting, you are a greater man than I in every aspect. I am sure that most people wish to know which lucky lady His Grace would choose as his Queen of Love and Beauty. As such, spoiling this possibility would only make me an enemy of the people, hahaha."

"I would not have you go easy on me, Loras." Aerion Targaryen's tone grew urgent as he was unwilling to fight a rigged match. "If you do, I'll have you taking the black."

"... His Grace makes good jokes when he feels like it, wouldn't you agree, Ser?" Viserys suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Indeed, His Grace is a unique presence that brings life to us all." Loras Tyrell nodded, returning Aerion's earlier smile. "Rest assured, Your Grace, I will be leaving that field with all of my strength exerted. If you win, then it is simply a testament to your great ability."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He, in turn, replied courteously.

"I will be wishing for your victory in this Great Tourney, My Emperor." Margaery Tyrell confronted Aerion afterwards who was still accompanied by Arianne Martell and Jocelyn Baratheon.

"And not your brother's?"

"He is still young and inexperienced with plenty of tournies to win in the future." Margaery Tyrell replied simply, smiling alluringly as she did so. She even played a little with her curly brown hair, twirling it with her finger. "But you, My Emperor, have the ability to win the entire joust and only a few days from your long-awaited nameday. No slight to my brother... but I would much rather have you succeed."

"You should know that my beloved here is attending solely because of me." Arianne Martell grabbed Aerion's left arm close to her rather large breasts as a way of spiting Margaery Tyrell... and telling her to back off.

"Of course... I couldn't think of a better choice for the Queen of Love and Beauty but you, lady Arianne." Margaery Tyrell did not counter with any daggers herself, instead, she complimented Aerion's closest woman. "However, our Emperor's mind is his own and, if he won, it could very well be someone you might not expect."

"Like you?" Jocelyn Baratheon pondered, knowing precisely where Margaery Tyrell was hinting at.

"I would not deny such a show of affection from our charming Emperor." Margaery Tyrell smiled, not saying anything for certain. "Who knows... it might be someone not present here. Perhaps, our Emperor has a secret lover that no one here knows about?"

"Margaery is entirely correct." Aerion nodded as he had completely approved of what she said. "If I win, my decision of the Queen will be mine and mine alone. Then again, some rules can be bent in my favour..."

"Such as?" Jocelyn wondered, although Aerion simply smiled and gave no further reply.

"You shall have to see... but it'll only happen if I win."

~

"He's popular with the ladies, our nephew, isn't he?" Viserys met with Daenerys who was observing from the side. "I doubt there's a single one among them that wouldn't love to lie in his bed. Unfortunately for them, Aerion values his duty as the Dragon Emperor more highly than bedding women."

"Given these times of peace, however, it's almost certain that he will soon marry Arianne."

"Why are you telling me this, brother?" Daenerys asked, frowning slightly.

"My sweet little sister, you must be bolder in your approach. Aerion is a little dense in matters of the heart, especially those revolving around love... or, more accurately, he has a hard shell that is not so easily broken." Viserys stated, stroking his chin. "That's what I believe, anyway. He is rather difficult to understand sometimes... but he does care for you, that's one thing I know for sure."

"And I should take advice from someone who has little to no experience in this field?" Daenerys jested at Viserys' expense.

"Love... isn't my speciality, you're entirely right. That was just an observation of mine and nothing more. It's your decision whether or not you wish to act on my advice, in the end." Viserys smiled, backing away slightly. "Though, from what you said, you did not exactly deny having more 'special' feelings. I'll be sure to inform Aerion, he'll be most pleased to-"

"No, you will not!" Daenerys sharply interrupted, grabbing him by the arm. "You will say nothing of this conversation to Aerion."

"Fine... I won't." Viserys chuckled, freeing his arm rather effortlessly. "I was just teasing you, sweet sister. You're just too adorable whenever you get flustered..."

"Hmph..." Daenerys turned away from Viserys.

"Rest assured that any proposal that mentions your betrothal is thrown straight into the fire by Aerion." Viserys made one final remark. "Although he wouldn't admit it directly, there is certainly meaning behind those actions."

"..."

Daenerys glanced at the distant Aerion who was finally preparing for his tilt against Loras Tyrell. Whenever they found him, her violet eyes found it difficult to stray away from his distinguished figure.

~

"Ser Loras of the House Tyrell; well known for his many knightly talents and beauty across the Seven Kingdoms... against a man who needs no introduction! He is none other than His Grace, the most beautiful man in the Known World, the greatest swordsman and most valiant warrior in the Known World, son of the gallant Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms! Welcome Dragon Emperor Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen to the stage and give him a LOUD welcome at that!"

Aerion Targaryen chuckled as he glanced at the announcer. 'Is there a need for such a grand introduction?'

"WOOOOO!"

"I PRAY FOR YOUR VICTORY, YOUR GRACE!"

"Show the knight of flowers the wrath of the dragon!"

It did not take a genius to figure out who was the crowd's favourite. Although Loras Tyrell was popular... this popularity was nonexistent when he was put against Aerion Targaryen.

'I don't intend on losing...' Aerion looked down at his destrier and comforted it with a soothing few rubs at its neck. "Although I'm doing most of the work, I still need you to pull your weight... not that you can hear me but that's beside the point."

His destrier seemed to understand him, more or less. Its eyes looked towards the opposite side of the field where Loras Tyrell waited.

"May the joust... commence!"

Aerion Targaryen kicked forwards, making his destrier begin its sprint. Through their helmets, the eyes of both competitors met for a moment as they were nearing an exchange. Aerion Targaryen gripped on his lance tightly...

Although focusing on felling Loras Tyrell in a single tilt, he found himself in an unfavourable position and barely missed his shoulder. Meanwhile, Loras Tyrell did hit... and he hit hard.

'Shit...'

Crash.

Loras Tyrell's lance broke against Aerion's left shoulder and jolted him to fall backwards on his right...

As the slow moments passed, Aerion Targaryen found himself falling down... and down...

The expressions of the crowd could be summarised with four words; complete and utter shock.

However... another surprise came its way.

Gritting his teeth and gathering all of the determination he could, Aerion pulled himself back up from falling off his horse.

He galloped on as if nothing happened, although he knew that he had been only an inch away from losing in the first tilt. The whole manoeuvre was one of the most impressive shows of dexterity and endurance any had seen.

"His Grace... recovered from the blow!?"

"He didn't want to lose to someone younger than him..." Jocelyn Baratheon smiled, acting as if she hadn't been worried for a moment.

Aerion Targaryen's breath was slightly heavy as he had escaped by the skin of his teeth.

'That... was far too close.'

He grabbed his helmet and threw it into the crowd, freeing his silver hair as he shook it around. While someone else would be more careful if they had suffered such a blow, Aerion was the opposite. He felt excitement, smiling even as he prepared for the second tilt.

Loras Tyrell widened his eyes in surprise... he could've never expected to hit Aerion Targaryen so well on the first tilt. But, more surprisingly, he had recovered from the blow with such grace.

"Loras Tyrell... you are a worthy opponent!" Aerion Targaryen announced as his destrier rose on its two feet and neighed loudly.

And so, the second tilt began.

They exchanged hits, breaking both of their lances although neither of them fell.

The third tilt was more of the same...

So was the fourth, fifth and sixth...

By the seventh...

CRACK.

Aerion Targaryen toppled Loras Tyrell and sent him rolling onto the ground, using the strength he had been reserving earlier.

"You fought valiantly, Ser Loras. If you ever have a desire to join my household guard, you are more than welcome. I would be most pleased to have someone like you amongst my ranks."

Loras Tyrell, after getting to his feet and recovering from the fall, simply smiled. "I will have to consider that offer, Your Grace."

~

"Phew..." Aerion Targaryen sat down at his kingly seat in the stands and took a deep breath.

"You dropped your helmet, my Emperor." Jaime presented to him, laughing a little as he did so. "Why did you throw it away in the first place?"

"He did it to look better for the crowd." Arianne Martell replied before he could. "And he certainly got their attention."

"What if Ser Loras aimed higher and hit you in your pretty face, my Emperor?" Ser Oswell chuckled as he glanced at Aerion.

"Then I fear that both Ser Loras and I would walk away from that round with not-so-pretty faces." Aerion replied, rejecting his helmet. "Put it away for now, I have no need for it. You're up next... if I'm not mistaken, Lord Commander?"

"Ah, yes... but Ser Oswell is not someone I would call competition." Jaime Lannister remarked in a jestful manner.

"It would be a great shame if our Lord Commander didn't crack the top four." Ser Oswell, in turn, countered.

"Just make sure to give a good and memorable show of skill, whoever wins..."

"Yes, my Emperor."