6th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal
Ser Jaime Lannister
After standing guard for some time, it was finally time to have the jousting. For a week or more there had been feasting and revelry, and now, now it was time to have the main fun. It had been boring standing guard over his sister and her fat husband, he had hungered for Cersei and yet they had remained apart, too much risk, especially with the Stark boy prowling around looking for something or the other. That the other Stark brat had begun walking once more was something that had eased his guilt somewhat, but not enough. His mind was chaotic now, and the jousting began with the cry from the king. "Start the tourney before I piss myself."
Jaime's first opponent is some shit from the riverlands, he does not even bother learning the fool's name, but he does take his lance and prepares for the competition. He says a quick prayer and then on it goes. He spurs his mount on, keeps his lance steady, and when the boy comes toward him he turns the lance somewhat, hitting the boy straight on the shield. His lance splinters and as they past one another and then Jaime turns round and picks up another lance and turns to face the boy, this time on the second pass he knocks the boy off his horse and makes him land on his arse. Through to the next round, Jaime watches others compete, keeping his interest to a minimum until a man with grey armour enters the lists, a mystery knight. The knight wins his first joust in only one tilt, and the crowd cheers.
Jaime's next joust is against Renly Baratheon, the ponce who has come forward for some reason or another. Jaime looks at the Lord of Storm's End in his green armour and laughs. Jaime takes his lance, and then as the announcer calls for the joust to begin, Jaime feels his heart beat quicken, but the Baratheon boy is no match for him, a straight hit sends the man falling down to the ground. But as Jaime turns round, he hears something or the other that sounds dangerously close to an accusation. He thinks about turning around and going after the Lord of Storm's End, and yet he decides against it, he will keep an eye on him though.
The mystery knight with the grey armour continues to prowl through, his second opponent is Robar Royce, never a ponce with a lance, the Royce knight falls on the third pass, and the crowd cheers and roars. Jaime looks at the mystery knight and wonders at this, he wonders who this man could be. He pushes the knight from his thoughts though as his next competitor comes forward. Ser Lyle Crakehall a big boar of a man, and someone Jaime knows to be a fierce jouster. Jaime takes his lance and clears his thoughts, waits and then spurs his horse onward. He hits Crakehall in the shield once, on the second pass, he hits him in the chest and Crakehall remains, on the third he hits him in the shield once more his lance shatters, on the fourth pass he hits Crakehall just under the neck and the man falls. There is a cheer, and Jaime moves through to the second last round.
The mystery knight's third joust is against someone Jaime knows well, Ser Barristan Selmy Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He watches fascinated as the two men go against one another. The mystery knight is young, Jaime can tell that by the way he holds himself, there is a cockiness there that Jaime recognises from when he was young. The man's grip of his lance is tight, and loose at the same time. There is a primitiveness about it that belies something deeper, a determination as it were for the man. The first pass is a test, the second is a brutal play, the third is something else entirely, the fourth is a mess of broken lances and splinters, the fifth sees both men take hits, and the sixth one sees Ser Barristan unhorsed. The crowd roars its approval at this, and Jaime begins to wonder.
Jaime's possible last joust comes against Sandor Clegane a brute with a sword but not so smooth with a lance. Jaime, takes a breath and then the joust begins. His heart is beating quickly, the first pass sees them miss one another, the second sees them break stride and nearly smash into each other, the third sees their lances hit and break, their fourth sees Sandor Clegane wobble in his saddle and nearly fall, the fifth sees Jaime nearly fall down. The sixth sees Sandor Clegane unhorsed, and Jaime roars with triumph at that, he knows that now the ball is in his court.
The mystery knight goes up against the new and upcoming knight, Ser Loras Tyrell. Jaime knows that Tyrell is only half the jouster Jaime was at his age, but still he watches intrigued as the two men go up against one another. He looks around the stand where the royal family and the Starks are and notes curiously enough that the Lord of Harrenhal is not present, he wonders at that, but then pushes it from his mind. He watches as the two knights compete and as they go from one pass, to another and then to another. On and on their little dance goes, and Jaime can tell that the knight of flowers is growing more and more frustrated, and when he is eventually unseated and the mystery knight who Jaime is now calling the Grey Knight, because of his grey armour, does a lap around the ground, he wonders.
And then it comes time for the two of them to compete with one another. Jaime's heart is hammering, he knows now that something more is about to happen, this joust has taken on some new significance. He thinks he knows who the mystery knight is, but he is not completely sure, and so he remains silent on the matter for a time. He mounts his horse, takes his lance and then moves toward the opponent. The grey knight holds himself well, no nerves show in his stance or in his posture. They move on the first pass, the second pass sees their lances shatter, the third sees shields hit and more broken lances, the fourth sees them both shaking somewhat. The fifth sees a dancing stag before his eyes, the sixth sees the seven hells come before him and on the seventh, something happens and he is knocked from his horse quite hard. The crowd is roaring chanting the name he thought and he remembers. He looks up through broken vision as the knight takes the laurel and places it atop Lady Margaery's head, and that is when it clicks.