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The Rise of A Dragon - Chapter 15: Second Day of the Tournament
🕑 Added 2025-03-02 14:00:07 +0000 UTCAerea found herself enthralled as she watched many of the people all around the training yard of Casterly Rock.
Aerea had come early that morning to train by herself before the knight’s tourney would begin, but had found that the yard was being used, mainly by the women of the Dornish congregation, who each seemed to have the same idea as her.
She had never met another girl or woman that used a weapon. Westeros, with the exception of the North and Dorne, was touched by the male dominated warrior culture of the Andals due to the ethnic group invading the continent.
This led to women and men being put into specific boxes in society, expected to do certain things, and to keep away from others. As such, men could rule, lead, and be warriors, while women were caretakers, mothers, and servants to men.
Any girl that had dreams of wielding a weapon, would have such desires beaten and ridiculed out of them, taught to remember that they should keep out of male spaces, and allow said men to wield the weapons for them.
Aerea knew that it was only because her father had allowed her to train, that she was able to use a sword, because he did not see reason to force her against it. And even then, she still had to deal with the whispers and stares whenever she did, feeling their judgment wherever she went.
“Princess Aerea?” Aerea turned her head and saw Ashara and Allyria sitting next to each other on a nearby bench, staring at her.
Aerea cleared her throat, “Good morning, Lady Ashara, Lady Allyria. How are you both doing this day?”
“We are fine, Your Grace.” Ashara answered, “We are simply waiting for Elia to finish her spar with Princess Myria.”
“She is?” Aerea asked, turning her head to look across the training field and seeing Elia and Myria Martell, both women using spears as the clashed with each other in the middle of the yard.
Aerea did not know how she did not notice the pair sooner, especially as the others on the field had given the two a wide berth, allowing them to stand out and have more space than others to spar with each other.
Mother and daughter were wearing sleeveless shirts and long flowing trousers, their long hair pulled back into low ponytails. It became clear to Aerea just how small Elia truly was when looking at her and Myria, seeing how much taller and larger the ruling princess was compared to her daughter.
Aerea could also see that Myria outclassed Elia in terms of skill, the younger princess was unable to land a hit on Myria as she danced out of the way of each strike.
And before long, Myria swung her spear low, sweeping out Elia’s legs from underneath her, and causing Elia’s back to hit the ground. She did not have time to react before the tip of her mother’s spear was now only a few centimeters from her face.
“You see what you did wrong, yes?” Myria asked her daughter as she stood over her.
Elia sat up so that her body was resting the back of her forearms and elbows, breathing heavily as she looked up at her mother. “I know, mother, I should have worked harder to end the match sooner.”
My body cannot handle long form combat. Elia thought, once again faced with the fact that her delicate and frail body would not allow her to do certain things nor as easily as others.
Elia had been born a moon prematurely and had suffered from a weak constitution since she was born, her health constantly fluctuating.
Myria’s face softened as she moved her spear away from Elia and helped her daughter to her feet, knowing what her daughter was thinking. “You do not need to push yourself so hard, Elia.”
“I know.” Elia muttered, looking at the ground.
Myria sighed, knowing that having another conversation about Elia’s health and Elia’s pushing past her limits would be counterproductive. As the two of them walked to where Ashara and Allyria were sitting, Myria smiled when she saw the silver-haired girl standing next to them.
She looks like a taller, and far more strapping, version of Rhaella. Thank the Gods for that. Myria thought, “It seems we gained ourselves an audience.”
Aerea blushed, and Myria fought the urge to coo, “I apologize for staring, Princess Myria.”
Myria chuckled, “No offense was made, Rhaella has told me how much you enjoy the martial arts, whether its watching or participating.”
Aerea nodded her head, “I do, it’s interesting to everyone’s unique styles of combat. And I have never met a female warrior before.”
Myria snorted, “You wouldn’t this far north.”
“North?” Aerea asked, “But this is the West.”
Elia chuckled, “To us Dornish, all of you are Northerners.”
“Would that not get confusing when you meet people who are actually from The North?”
Aerea did not know what was wrong with what she had said, but the four women around her laughed at her question.
Myria was still smiling as she stopped laughing. “Many do not see the worth in teaching their women to fight and lead. But I am glad that not all share this view.”
Even if I do find it strange that Aerys is the one giving his daughter the chance to. Although I doubt it’s for good reasons. Myria thought.
Before Aerea could respond, she saw Jaime entering the yard from the corner of her eye. “Good morning, Jaime.”
“Good morning, Your Grace. And good morning, Princess Myria, Princess Elia, Lady Ashara, Lady Allyria.” Jaime said stiffly and formally, much to Aerea's confusion.
“Good morning, Jaime, did you come to train?” Elia asked.
Jaime blinked, realizing that he was staring as Elia was waiting for him to speak. He blushed slightly as he spoke, “I did, but the yard seems to be in use. I… I didn’t know that you knew how to use a spear.”
Elia glanced at the spear in her hands, “I suppose it has not come up in our letters, has it?”
Jaime shook his head; he would certainly remember if it had.
I would have preferred writing about our training habits then the weather or our studies. We could have been doing that all this time. Jaime thought.
“I use training to stay healthy.” Elia continued, becoming shy as she spoke, “It’s not something I like to brag about; my skills are quite laughable.”
“I’m sure they’re not.” Jaime exclaimed, “Nothing about you is laughable, princess. Perhaps you can show me what your skills before you leave?”
Elia smiled, “Only if you do the same.”
Myria chuckled, “How cute.”
Both Jaime and Elia blushed at the older woman's words, which greatly amused the others and caused them to laugh at their expense.
The rest of that morning was spent with Aerea and Jaime sparring against each other again while the four women cheered them on.
When Aerea lost, she jokingly accused Jaime of cheating to impress Elia, causing Jaime to stammer and his to turn red as he tried to refute this. He then chased Aerea around the yard when Ashara and Allyria began to tease Elia about Jaime being her gallant knight.
Myria laughed when Jaime finally caught Aerea, tackling the older girl to the ground and the two began to playfully wrestle. It was not behavior befitting a lordling and a princess of the realm, but in Myria’s eyes they were still children and should be allowed to act as such.
It’s not my place to tell Tywin and Aerys' children what to do.
It warmed her to know that Joanna’s son and Rhaella’s daughter were happy, and most importantly that Jaime and Elia were bonding with each other.
She knew what people said about her daughter behind their backs, that Elia’s poor condition would make her unsuitable as a wife, unable to give whoever she married enough children.
A ludicrous thought, most nobles in Westeros had around three or four children, even as you ignore those who woulf have more after some children died young. And Myria knew that the number of children a woman had, did not indicate how well a woman would be at running a household or supporting her spouse.
And she hoped that Jaime and Elia’s relationship would grow strong enough that he too would believe the same.
~X~
Rhaegar placed his winged helm on his head before riding his horse onto the field, said helm was decorated with gold, orange, and red silken streamers resembling flames. He wore night-black plate armor with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen decorated in rubies on its breastplate, and underneath the plate, he wore golden ringmail.
The crowd cheered loudly for the Crown Prince as he entered the tourney field, the adoration was greater for Rhaegar than the ones given for Aerys and Tywin combined.
Rhaegar pulled his horse towards the royal viewing box, stopping in front of Aerea, “Sister.”
Aerea smiled as she stood from her seat, standing at the edge of the box as she looked down at Rhaegar. “Brother, I hope you are not here for my favor, because I’d hate to disappoint you by telling you that I do not have one.”
“Even if you did, I doubt you would be kind enough to give it to me.” Rhaegar replied, causing Aerea to laugh.
Aerea’s smile became softer, “Be careful, yes?”
“I will, hāedar.” Rhaegar said before riding away.
The first half of the tourney passed in a blur for Rhaegar. While Rhaegar was an excellent rider and jouster, the sport was not something he enjoyed strongly, only doing so because it was expected of him as a man and a knight, and to gain as much fighting ability from it as he could.
So, he paid little attention to the jousts of his fellow competitors, and he glided through the ten jousts he had against knights of the Westerlands, beating each man with ease.
It was only when he was facing Gerion Lannister, did he start to marginally pay attention to his surroundings instead of moving on instinct alone.
Unlike the others, Rhaegar was not able to take Gerion down with just a single tilt as the Lannister remained firmly on his horse even as Rhaegar’s lance slammed into his shield.
The other man grinned during the second tilt as Rhaegar lance missed him and he struck Rhaegar’s own shield.
Two more times they broke each other’s lances, littering the ground with splinters. On the fifth tilt, a mistimed block led to Gerion being thrown from his horse as Rhaegar’s lance struck his arm before he was able to brace himself.
The fall was a clean one, and Rhaegar could see that Gerion was fine as he approached and dismounted his horse. “You rode well, Ser.”
Gerion laughed, “But you rode better, my prince. I see that there is a lot of truth about your skills as a jouster.”
Rhaegar nodded as he walked back to his horse, his mind falling into a similar fog as he had two more easy and boring jousts against Westerlands knights.
When he faced Tygett Lannister in his next joust, Rhaegar could see that the man was more skilled than his younger brother.
Tygett did not make a show for the crowd or laugh like Gerion did, remaining serious, focused, and precise as his and Rhaegar’s lances shattered against each other.
Rhaegar gritted his teeth when Tygett changed the direction of his lance, striking the prince in the shoulder as Rhaegar had not been expecting the sudden change and was unable to block it. He managed to hold onto his horse but knew that he had to end the joust within the next tilt, or he would lose, cursing himself for his sloppy riding.
Tygett tried to change his lance’s position again, but Rhaegar was ready for him this time, using own lance to parry Tygett’s, sliding it against his shield and quickly striking the center of Tygett’s breastplate, knocking the older man off his horse.
Tygett rose from where he had fallen unhindered, but Rhaegar could see the fierce frown on his face as he removed his helm.
Rhaegar said the same words to Tygett that he did to Gerion, and once again, Tygett did not react as his brother did, instead nodding to the prince and congratulating Rhaegar on his victory, still frowning as he left the field.
His next joust was the last of the semifinals and would be against Barristan Selmy, this match would be determining who would face Arthur Dayne in the finals.
Rhaegar knew that he would have to focus during this match against the Kingsguard, fully aware of the man’s skill on horseback.
When the horns blared and the joust began, Rhaegar felt as if he had run into a brick wall as Barristan’s lance smashed into his shield, the pain traveling up his arm.
The tilts passed in quick succession, neither jouster able gain much of an advantage over the other, the sounds of crowd growing louder as the match dragged on.
But it was on the thirteenth tilt that the match finally drew to a close as Rhaegar copied what Tygett had done to him, changing the direction on his lance mid strike, catching Barristan off guard as he was hit in the shoulder and sent tumbling to the ground.
It took the man a moment to stand up, but Barristan was unbothered by his defeat, smiling as the prince rod towards him. “Good joust, my prince.”
“It was quite close, Ser Barristan. You almost had me beat.” Rhaegar said.
Barristan chuckled, “You honor me, my prince.”
Rhaegar watched Barristan leave the field, not seeing Arthur riding towards him from behind. “You’re not going to hold back as you have done most of this day, are you, my prince?”
Rhaegar turned his head, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Arthur smiled, “Of course.”
Rhaegar did not bother to respond to his friend, choosing at that moment to ride to the other end of the field, ignoring Arthur’s laughter.
The sounds of the crowd became louder, all excited to see who would win the joust, the Prince of Dragonstone or the man who had become the new Sword of the Morning.
This anticipated match lasted five tilts, during the first four, Rhaegar and Arthur’s lances smashed into each other, leading to everyone to think the joust would last longer than it did.
But Aruther aimed his lance low on the final tilt, slipping past Rhaegar’s shield and hitting Rhaegar in his abdomen and knocking him off his horse.
The crowd erupted into deafening applause, cheering Arthur as he raised his broken lance into the air after his victory was announced.
That hurt. Rhaegar thought as he stared at the sky above him, lying still in the dirt. When he pushed himself to his feet, Arthur had already ridden towards him.
“Sorry, Rhaegar.” Arthur told the prince.
“Do not apologize for being better, Arthur.” Rhaegar said, “I will simply have to improve more for our next joust.”
Arthur grinned before riding to the announcer and using a new lance to take the wreath of flowers from him. Arthur then rode towards the royal viewing box and used his lance to place the wreath on the lap of his youngest sister.
“To one of the only two women worthy of the title. I name you my Queen of Love and Beauty.” Arthur declared.
Allyria laughed as she lifted the wreath of white roses, “Thank you, brother.”
The crowd cheered again, moved by the display of familial love, praising Arthur for his skill and complementing Allyria on her beauty.
Rhaegar slowly left the field, ignoring the those who tried to congratulate him on making it to the final match, focusing on walking toward the maester tent.
The maesters inside jumped to their feet when they saw who had entered the tent, skittering around nervously as Rhaegar silent sat down on one of the beds and took off his breastplate and ringmail, revealing his bruised chest and torso to the world.
“Wow, you look like shit.” Rhaegar rolled his eyes when he heard his sister’s voice, frowning when Aerea moved to stand next to him.
“How sweet of you to say.” Rhaegar sarcastically replied.
Aerea grinned, sitting down next to Rhaegar, and watching as a maester was putting salves on her brother’s bruises. “You did great today.”
Rhaegar stared at her blankly, “I lost.”
Aerea shrugged, “Losing is a part of life, and a golden boy like you needs to experience that occasionally like the rest of us plebs are forced to everyday. It’ll keep you humble.”
Rhaegar scoffed at this while Aerea laughed at the affronted expression on his face. “And does our King feel the same way you do?”
Aerea’s falling smile was enough of an answer Rhaegar, having an inkling of how Aerys reacted to him losing to Arthur.
Father has never reacted well to me losing, especially not to Arthur, so this time should not be any different. Rhaegar thought, already dreading the moment he would leave this tent, and his father would accost him for his failure.
“Well, I doubt father will say anything here, at least not with all these eyes on us.” Aerea said, trying to reassure her brother.
“I think you are underestimating our father’s ability to control his anger.”
“Well, maybe he’ll be too distracted with Lord Tywin’s upcoming proposal to think much about your joust.”
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, “You have figured out the truth?”
Aerea sighed, “Yes. I will admit it took me some time, but everything about this tourney wouldn’t make sense otherwise.”
Aerea watched as Rhaegar stood up, putting his armor back on once the maester was done attending to him, the two waited to continue their conversation as they did not know who the men around them were in service to.
Once they left the tent, Rhaegar spoke again now that they were walking through the loud tourney grounds, Barristan and Gerold following them at a short distance. “It would have been easier for Tywin to simply ask father for a betrothal instead of going through this whole show.”
“You know how father is; it's best to flatter him and adhere to his ego when you wish to ask him for anything, especially something that you know he may not like.”
“If Tywin knew that this is something our father would not like, he shouldn’t have bothered at all. Father is not known for changing his mind on things.”
Aerea smiled at her brother, “So I take it that you do not desire to have Cersei as your lady wife?”
“Let me put it this way, Aerea; I would sooner marry a lion than Cersei Lannister. At least the lion would be less fierce, domineering, and aggressive than she.” Rhaegar drawled, staring at Aerea coolly.
Aerea sighed, “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”
“I know that she is your friend, but I am simply speaking the truth, Cersei would not be a good wife for me.”
“Well, not every man can handle a strong and opinionated woman, so I suppose I can’t fault you for that.”
Rhaegar only shook his head at his sister’s response, sometimes amazed by the way she sees the world and the people who inhabit it.
But no matter, with the Knight’s tourney now done, the next day would be the general events for knights, like what the first day was for squires. After that would be the celebratory feast which would signify the end of the tournament, and the royal family would return to King’s Landing.
And with that, I will be able to return to my research on the prophecy. The library here in Casterly Rock had a few books that mentioned the Long Night and Azor Ahai, unfortunately I cannot take any of them with me, but I have memorized most of them. Rhaegar thought.
~X~
Hours Later
The sun had set and brought the darkness of the night, the city of Lannisport was far from quiet, including the large tent town that had sprung up around the tourney field.
While many were singing, drinking, dancing, and fucking, three small figures dressed in black cloaks swiftly made their way through the makeshift streets and lanes, moving unnoticed to their destination.
After some time, the trio reached a dark green tent with a tall, peaked roof separated from the rest of the tents as it sat near the forest's edge.
The leader of the group then removed the hood from their head, revealing herself to be Cersei Lannister as the golden curls on her head fell down her shoulders. The other two girls followed Cersei’s lead and removed their own hoods, reluctantly walking closer to the mysterious tent.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Cersei?” Jeyne Farman asked, gripping the sleeves of her cloak tightly.
Cersei glared at the girl from the corner of her eye, “You want to know your future, don’t you? Then stop whining.”
When Cersei turned her head around, the final girl, Malara Hetherspoon, reached over and held Jeyne’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
Jeyne tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace, betraying her true feelings. She and Melara had been chosen to be companions of Cersei and had been so for years, being the few noble girls to last the longest in this position and both had been friends with the girl long enough to know that you could not say no to Cersei.
Now that the tournament was ending, Cersei wanted to know if she was destined to have a happy life with Prince Rhaegar. Despite a betrothal having yet to be made, Cersei was convinced that she would become Rhaegar’s wife, believing her father’s words that the marriage was certain.
Cersei had heard rumors of a sorceress that lived in Lannisport who had several magical abilities, including being able to see the future. And when she told Jeyne and Melara of this, the two girls were equally curious, wanting to have their own futures told by the witch.
Confidently, Cersei pushed into the tent, the inside was cramped, full of books, jars, and trinkets that were piled on top of each other. It had created a narrow path that led to a bed that had a sleeping woman on it.
She did not hesitate in rousing the woman from her slumber, demanding that the old woman wake up, using her title of the Lord of Casterly Rock’s daughter.
A growl escaped from the woman’s lips as she tossed the blanket off her body, when she turned around, she glared at the girls, revealing her large, menacing yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the torch light.
The moment that she saw the witch’s eyes, Jeyne Farman’s face turned pale, and a squeal escaped her lips as she turned and fled the tent, leaving the other two girls behind in her desire to get as far away from the witch.
In her heart, she felt that if she stayed another second in that tent, then she would never leave it alive.
Craven. Cersei thought with disgust as she watched Jeyne flee, “So, you are Maggy the Frog?”
“And what if I am, little girl?” The woman asked, her voice accented and croaking, making Cersei and Jeyne think it was not just her physical appearance that made people think of her as frog like.
Maggy the Frog was squat and warty, with a bent back, crusty yellow eyes, no teeth, and pale green jowls. In essence, she was not a beautiful woman, and it was doubtful that she was even close to attractive when she was younger.
The girl with the golden curls put her hands upon her hips, "Give us our foretelling, or I'll go to my lord father and have you whipped for insolence."
"Please," Begged Melara, "Just tell us our futures, then we'll go."
After looking at the pair for a moment, Maggy relented, pulling her robe around her shoulders, and beckoning them closer. “Some are here who have no futures, come, if you will not go. Fools. Come, yes. I must taste your blood."
Melara paled, but not Cersei, squaring her shoulders back as she took the dagger Maggy offered her and twisting the blade against her thumb.
A lioness does not fear a frog, no matter how old and ugly she might be. Cersei thought.
Melara did the same, flinching as she felt the blade cut her skin and wincing when Maggy licked her and Cersei’s blood off the dagger, sucking it off with gums as soft as a newborn’s.
Maggy smiled at the young girl’s fear before turning to the other, “Three questions you may ask, and you may not like my answers. Ask or begone with you.”
Cersei looked Maggy in the eye, “When will I wed the prince?”
“Never.” Maggy said without hesitation, “The prince is not meant for you, but a member of royalty you shall wed, with your maiden cloak soaked in enemy blood.”
Beneath her golden curls, Cersei’s face wrinkled in puzzlement. What does that mean? I will marry a member of royalty but not Prince Rhaegar? The only other available royal is Prince Viserys, and he is but a babe!
Cersei swallowed the spit that had formed in her mouth, “Will I be Queen, though?”
“Aye,” Maggy said, her eyes both curious and full of malice, “Queen you shall be, rising from the mist of dying embers. Until another Queen comes to try and steal your crown, comes to slay the dragon.”
Anger flashed across the young girl’s face at the suggestion of another woman trying to replace her as Queen. “If she tries, I will have my brother kill her."
So, will someone try to have me replaced as Queen? She said that I will not marry a prince, but I will become Queen when embers die, and a dragon being slayed. Dragons breathe fire, so does that mean I will have to wait until Aerys dies before Rhaegar and I wed? It would make sense if I won't be marrying a prince, but Rhaegar when he becomes King. But Aerys isn’t old, he is father’s age, so how long will I be left waiting?
Cersei still had one more question regarding her future, “Will the King and I have children?"
"Oh, aye. Two and ten for the King, and four for you."
This made no sense to Cersei; how could she marry a King while the two of them were meant to each have a different number of children? She wanted to ask how that could be, but she had used up all her questions.
The old woman was not done with her prophecy however, “Beware the imposter, the false beast, as he and his lover come to choke the life from your children and spouse, lest their golden crowns turn into golden shrouds.”
“What imposter? Golden shrouds?” Cersei asked with a frown, “You're a liar and a warty frog and a smelly old savage, and I don't believe a word of what you say. Come away, Melara, she is not worth hearing."
"I get three questions too," Her friend insisted, and when Cersei tugged upon her arm, Melara wriggled free and turned back to the crone. "Will a marry a gallant knight? Like Jaime?”
You stupid girl, Jaime does not even know you are alive. And even then, he already betrothed!
Maggy chuckled, a low, horse thing. "Not Jaime, nor any other man, worms will have your maidenhead. Your death soon approaches, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close."
"The only breath we smell is yours," said Cersei before snatching a jar of a thick potion sitting on a table nearby and throwing it into the old woman's eyes.
The crone had screamed at them in some queer foreign tongue and cursed them as they fled her tent. The sounds of Maggy’s following the two girls no matter how much distance they put between themselves and her.
“Do you... do you think what she said was true?” Melara quietly asked Cersei once they reached the gates of Casterly Rock.
Cersei glared at the other girl, causing Melara to flinch, “Shut your mouth, nothing happened tonight.”
“But Cersei-”
“Nothing. Happen. Tonight.” Cersei hissed, “And make sure you tell that craven Jeyne too.”
With that, Cersei turned on her heel and walked past Melara, not caring if the other girl was following her or not. Despite what she just said, Cersei could not stop thinking about Maggy and the prophecy the old woman had given her.
She was crazy, she must be, she was just a crazy old woman in a nasty tent. Nothing she said was true, just the words of a liar, I have nothing to fear from anything she told me. Cersei thought, trying to reassure herself, but failing.
Comments
Kas the Weeb
I did say it would be obvious. But it's only really obvious to everyone but them 😂
KaeKat
Oooooo~ Gee I wonder who Cersei ends up with 😏 Can't wait to see how it plays out!
