Rheanys
The Princess' tourney they called it, though Rheanys knew how much Daenerys hated the name. It was her grandmother's idea to hold a tourney for Daenerys' hand in marriage to appease Queen Cersei's complaints that the King showed too much favouritism towards his second son. Year after year the Queen had asked her father the King to wed Daenerys to her only son Daeron and every time he refused. Through the tourney not even Cersei Lannister could say that her son didn't get a fair chance to prove himself.
Jon will win this, she was sure and decided to enjoy every minute of it. She held no particular grudge against Daeron, but his mother. As a child Rhaenys even tried to win her favour, but now she saw the Queen as nothing more than a competitor, a woman who stole her mother's rightful place. Jon's mother tried the same, but she died and Rhaenys saw not much use in hating a ghost when the really enemy was still breathing.
The air was brimming with excitement. It was the first tourney of the year and the King spared no cost to make it as splendid as possible. Yet the tourney was not only staged to find Daenerys' husband, but also meant to celebrate her father's long reign.
By now the fields outside of King's Landing were covered in brightly-coloured tents, banners and pavilions. From all over the Seven Kingdoms the great lords and ladies came to lick her father's boots, but that was the way of the world. The King sat on top while the others tried to win his favour.
The weather was also promising. Above them stretched and endless blue sky. It looked as if a silken cloth had been spread above their heads. Even the heat was dimmed by the cool breeze coming from the Kingswood.
Rhaenys was seated a little below her father and his Queen. Above them rose the banners of the three houses, Targaryen, Lannister and Martell joined as one. In truth it was nothing more than an illusion of false peace the King wanted to portray to the world.
Seated with her were her Lady Mother, her cousin Princess Arianne of Dorne, and a dozen of Dornish courtiers. Lady Dayne, Uncle Viserys' wife was among them, her young son placed in her lap and her daughter tying to poke her head over the balustrade to get a better look at the tiltyard.
Aegon, who was seated next to Viserys, was the second rooster in a flock of hens. Even Lady Arianne's husband, Lord Yronwood wasn't there to join them. He was forced to remain in Dorne to attend to an important matter.
Arianne didn't seem to care and even her full belly didn't seem to cause her discomfort. Two children she had born in the last two years. Once a boy and once a girl, but both of them died a week after they were born. My husband's seed is weak, she had japed with Rhaenys after her second pregnancy, but Rhaenys wasn't fooled by her smiling façade and prayed that this child may live a long and happy life.
"Who is riding on Prince Quentyn's behalf?" Princess Deana inquired and pulled on Daenerys' arm. As a Lannister she should be seated with her Lannister relatives, but only Lord Kevan Lannister, who also served as Master of Coins, and Lord Tyrion Lannister came to attend the tourney. Thus her younger sister asked to be seated with them.
"Ser Gerris Drinkwater…an old friend of his," Princess Arianne answered quickly. "My Uncle Oberyn suggested Obara, but my father was against it. 'Can't have a woman fight on my brother's behalf' my father said."
"Jon will defeat him," Rhaenys replied and picked a grape from the nearby table. "Your father should finally give up and allow Quent to marry his Yronwood girl."
Arianne sighed and shrugged her shoulders.
"My father thinks one marriage with house Yronwood is enough. I told Quent to run off with her, but you know my brother. He is too dutiful to do something like that."
"That is Quent for you…always doing the right thing and making himself miserable," Aegon added and met her gaze. Rheanys felt the urge to kick him. It was seldom enough that their Lady Mother was here seated with them where she belonged. Like always, her mother observed everything with silence, her gaunt face hidden behind a large fan made of peacock feathers. Her sickness had only worsened over the last years, but she was still here, alive and breathing. That was all that counted to Rhaenys.
"Speaking of brides," Daenerys remarked and gave Aegon a knowing smile. "Why did you not invie Lady Margaery to sit with us?"
"I forgot to ask," Aegon replied and shrugged his shoulders. "I shall speak to her later."
"I hope so, my unruly son," their Lady mother Princess Elia remarked, a faint smile curling on her pale lips. "Lady Alerie informed me that you neglected to answer Lady Margaery' letters."
Aegon huffed.
"You know me, Lady Mother. I am not a bleeding poet. I don't know what to write to her."
"I suppose I could help you with this problem, my son," their Lady Mother replied and jerked her head at the tiltyard. "The first tilt is on. I can already feel the rattling of the horse hooves in my old bones."
"You are not old, lady mother," Aegon countered.
Their Lady Mother chuckled softly and the horns sounded, announcing the beginning of the first match.
Promptly, the banners of House Redwyne and House Targaryen were raised, though it was her brother Prince Daeron who opened the tourney.
He donned gilded armour, a crimson cloak fluttering behind him as he rode unto the tiltyard.
"Daeron is riding, isn't he?" Princess Daena inquired gently.
"Aye," Daenerys confirmed and brushed her hand through Princess Deana's golden curls. "Your brother looks splendid."
"My Lady Mother says that Daeron looks always splendid," Princess Deana whispered. Rheanys couldn't deny his beauty, but a win for Daeron would mean a win for Queen Cersei.
Daenerys' answer was drowned out by the sounding horn, before the two competitors charged forth to meet each other in battle. Whirled-up dust blurred the world before them and the lances broke. Yet this was only the first run. Only by the third run Daeron finally managed to throw Lord Redwyne's son from his saddle.
"Your brother defeated Ser Dobber," Princess Arianne whispered into Princess Deana's ears. "Another failed suitor for Princess Daenerys."
"The Seven be blessed," Daenerys whispered and chuckled lightly.
"Jon is next," Viserys added sipped from his cup of wine. "Though it is a sad thing that none of the Starks came to pay witness to this grand event."
"A sad thing indeed," Lady Dayne agreed. "Is it true? They King invited them, but Lord Stark refused."
"It is true," Rheanys replied and lowered her voice, least her father heard them. "It seems Lord Stark holds not much love for tourneys or better said his grudge is keeping him in the North. Father was most displeased."
"Jon was also disappointed," Princess Deana whispered.
"Well, even more reason for Jon to win," Rhaenys replied. "I heard father intends to wed Daeron to Sansa Stark…to heal the wounds of the past."
"I see," Daenerys said and turned around to look at the Queen and the King. Her father the King looked pale, though the Grand Maester assured them that he had fully recovered. He is strong, she assured herself. And he will live for many more years. "But I fear a marriage won't be enough to achieve such a feat."
Truer words were never spoken, Rhaenys thought as the banners were raised anew. One of the two banners showed the sun of House Martell, though it was not Quentyn who rode, but his friend the loyal Ser Gerris Drinkwater. He even wore the Martell colours.
Uncle Doran is too ambitious for his own good, Rheanys thought and lifted her head to get a glimpse at Jon. This is just embarrassing. Quent should have refused him.
Jon was garbed in black armour, a crimson cloak fluttering behind him as he drove his horse forward, towards his enemy. Aegon had been riding since he left his cradle, but nobody could deny that Jon was lacking in skill, though he always preferred the sword over the lance.
Probably another reason Queen Cersei approved of the jousting competition, Rhaenys thought and smiled when Ser Gerris ended up kissing the dust.
Good work, little brother, she thought and smiled at the Queen. It took Daeron three rounds to unhorse his enemy. Jon did it in one round. That must hurt.
One match after another followed as the competitors fought for her Aunt's hand in marriage. It were too many and at times Rhaenys occupied herself with her fan. Only when Jon and Daeron rode did the jousting match have her full attention. Princess Daenerys, Princess Deana and Lady Dayne's daughter Rhaella were different. They watched the spectacle like excited children. They cheered and clapped. They laughed and stacked bets against each another. Aegon, always a smile on his lips, lost several gold dragons on that day.
Not that Aegon seemed to care. He was seldom wasteful, he was in a good mood. Their Lady Mother was here and Jon riding splendidly. The Queen will pay for what she did to them.
Rheanys had always known that she would wed another man chosen by her father, but she saw no reason to pursue her love for Aegon while she was still unwed.
What right did the Queen have to sell her secrets to the world?"
"Rhaenys!" Rhae exclaimed excitedly. "Jon's riding again. This one is the second-last match, right?"
"Aye, sweetling," she confirmed and patted her braided hair. "Jon needs to win against Ronald Waynwood and then he will ride against Daeron."
"My brother did well," Deana added softly. "His first match wasn't good, but he will do his best to make our mother proud."
"Indeed," Daenerys confirmed hesitatingly and squeezed the Princess' hand. Her face spoke more than thousand words. Daeron cannot be allowed to win.
Again the competitors charged at each other. Jon's lance met Ser Ronald's shield and shattered into thousand pieces while his competitor's lance missed Jon's shield by a mere inch. The next time, Jon proved quicker and the top of his lance found its way to Ser Ronald's chest. Like a man too deep in his cups the man tumbled from his horse and hit the ground. It took a long while before he was able to get back to his feet and her brother even climbed from his horse to help him back to his squires.
It was no surprise to her that the crowd cheered for her brother. They always loved deeds of chivalry.
Sadly, there were few people like her brother.
After grounds had been cleared for the last round, the King rose to his feet and praised the other riders for their valour. The Queen Mother spoke as well, her speech was more than brief. Her grandmother never liked to bask in the limelight. That she even came here surprised Rhaenys and made her wonder where she will choose to live once Aegon's takes Dragonstone as his seat.
At last, and for the first time in this tourney, the twin banners of House Targaryen were raised.
Jon and Daeron looked like twins as Daeron had changed into black armour for his last match, though Daeron had the Lannister looks and Jon the Stark looks. It was a match Prince against Prince, a winged lion against a winged wolf. Truly, a fiery combination.
Bets were stacked and whispering filled the air as their brothers brought their horses into position.
The horns blew, once, twice and trice, before the thunder of horse hooves filled their ears and made gallery rattle.
Yet even Rhaenys felt tense as the riders charged at each other, leaving only dust in their wake.
The lances met, splintered, but both riders remained seated. The crowd cheered, but Rhaenys hoped for a true win.
Do not disappoint me, little brother. I bet several hundred cold coins on your win, she thought and glanced over to the ugly little dwarf that was the Queen's brother. He bet several hundred gold coins on Daeron's behalf, though she knew he only did so because the Queen wished for it. Lord Kevan voiced his protest and the Queen promptly dubbed him a "stingy old fool".
The second run proved more exciting. Jon hit Daeron's shield while Daeron's lance hit the thin air next to Jon's shoulder.
A third time the princes charged at each other, the air so thick one could have cut it with a knife.
Jon's lance stood firm and strong as he drove his horse forward, like one of her Uncle Oberyn's priced steeds. He never held much love for Lyanna Stark's son, but he would surely admire her brother's courage.
Accompanied by a rattling sound the lances splintered into small shards, fluttering to the ground like leaves in the wind. Daeron was thrown backwards, his shield torn to pieces, before he hit the shorn grass. He whimpered and she noticed Princess Deana's fearful look.
"Is my brother well?" she inquired quickly, but even Rheanys lacked an appropriate answer.
All they could do was watch as the Maester took a look at the swaying Prince, before he was led away, presumably to a quiet place where he can be examined.
It was done. Jon had won the day, his bride and her bet. And most importantly, Queen lost this game.
"Well done!" Aegon exclaimed and clapped his hands. "Well done!"
Rheanys could only agree and watched with warm satisfaction as her little brother placed the white flower crown atop their Aunt's head.
Yet she couldn't help but to notice a hint of sadness in his purple gaze.
Aegon will never crown me Queen of Love and Beauty.
The feast was a grand event, but Rheanys held little interest in it. This was her brother's day and she wanted to make use of this moment to speak to Aegon.
She found him in company of his friends, noblemen hailing from Dorne and the Reach.
"Aegon," she greeted them and dipped her head. "My lords. May I speak alone with my brother?"
They obeyed without protest and fluttered away like a swarm of butterflies.
"Sweet sister," he returned her greeting and smiled warmly. What brings you here?"
She grabbed his arm and pulled him aside, towards the forest. The Queen's spies may be damned, but she had every right to speak with her brother.
"Stop it once and for all!" she chided him and feigned disapproval. "Your smouldering glances are driving me mad."
His smile only brightened at her admission and he made an attempt to take her hand, but she pulled it away.
"The same goes for you and your Dornish dresses," he admitted and stepped closer, his warm breath tickling her cheek. "They are terribly distracting…I just want," he continued, but she silenced his mouth with a kiss.
It was foolish to fight against this.
Aegon didn't even question her actions and returned her kiss, only to press her to a nearby tree. Theirs was a quick coupling, the cold night air gracing their naked skin.
Rheanys's heart still pounded violently when they were done.
The familiar feeling of shame made her heart clench. She was betrothed to a man she hardly knew to ease the wounds the last rebellion left on the Seven Kingdoms. Lord Edmure had no reason to love her.
His father Lord Hoster Tully was executed as a traitor and spent half his life as a hostage.
"We could run away," he suggested jestingly. "I always wanted to see Essos?"
"Don't be silly, Egg!" she chided him and slapped his shoulder in a playful manner. "That will never be. You will do your duty and I will do mine. Now we must return and play our parts."
"As you wish, sweet sister."
…