"War has claimed many fathers, that is something we must accept. I lost my father to a war and one day, so will you."
The young prince stared up at the older woman, his violet eyes wide and large on his round face. He looked down at the letter in hi...
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。.✦ ☾
Tourney
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A brassy overture sounds from the tournament grounds as the distant voice of the Master of Revels announces the first combatants to tilt on the field.
Astoria tilts her head towards Helaena who catches her eye. The Princess flushes under her gaze before looking down at her lap. Astoria grins to herself.
Suddenly there is a clearing of a throat, causing the people's voices to settle. "Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues for these games, but I promise that you will not be disappointed." Otto states, standing from his seat beside the tired king.
Otto takes in the crowd with a smug grin. "When I look out at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories." Otto states. His grin falters with his next words but he does not allow himself to look weak or annoyed. "We are here to celebrate the succession of houses, to celebrate our future Queen and our future lord of house Velaryon." Otto states
Astoria smirks, she wonders how much it had pained him to say. The crowd cheers with the news. "May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!" Otto finishes, he sweeps his robe behind him and he takes a seat.
Aegon lets out a long-suffering sigh in his seat beside his wife, staring out at the yard.
Horse hooves thunder on the jousting lane as the tilt begins. House Tarly against House Tully.
Esmond narrows his gaze under the helm, his horse thundering from underneath him, his jousting lance pointed outwards.
Astoria gasps out a laugh as an explosion of shields and lances ends with the knight of House Tully flying off his horse. Esmond rounds the fallen knight with a grin, listening to the cheers from the crowd.
"First to battle! First to Battle!" Were the crowd chants, watching the lord revel in his victory.
In all, two hundred knights from every house and hedge great and small have come to join the games to be held in honor of the heirs. Banners from every kingdom flap in the warm springtime wind. Small folks gather on the perimeter of the tourney grounds, trying to catch a glimpse of a favorite knight.
Rhaenyra looks over at Alicent, remembering the last tourney they shared together.
....
Prince Benjamin Martell guides his horse towards the royal box, holding his lance towards the small court. "Princess Helaena Targaryen." Ben calls out to the fair princess. Helaena flushes red as she stands.
"I would humbly ask for the favor of this realm's delight." Ben states
Touched by the gesture, Helaena places her favor on the end of Ben's lance. Aegon rolls his eyes, leaning against the arm of his chair. "Good fortune to you, Prince Martell." Helaena says softly. Ben smirks, meeting his sister's gaze. "I would gladly take it -- if I thought I needed it." He boasts
