It's been a long time since I wrote a chapter, so I'm rusty as hell. I felt like writing a little and made this to advance where I left off before. I'm not sure how much I'll write of the tournament—I already have a list of people, candidates, and battles, but I haven't given much thought to how much I'd develop it. We'll see.
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After having a late-morning quick breakfast, everyone in the family left for the tournament grounds located on the west side of the port city—a large open space amidst the buildings at the foot of Dragonstone, serving as an easy point of access for everyone.
The city was filled with life as people of all walks roamed the streets amid the festive air. The rulers of Dragonstone had declared seven days of celebration, during which people could drink and eat modest meals from any tavern or establishment on the island freely, their bellies sated by the Targaryens' abundant coffers. If they wanted more, it came at a meager price.
Order in the city was maintained by the city guards—Targaryen-trained troops of the same quality as the castle guards. Given the occasion and the heavy traffic, men-at-arms from the family also filled the lacking ranks to ensure cohesive order.
The tournament grounds and their surroundings were already packed with a sea of people coming to watch the fun and the contestants. Those who met the requirements and wished to participate could register at the entrance.
The registration method was fairly simple: two long tables manned by Maester Simon and a few learned men from the family—those who could read and write—had been tasked with registering participants and verifying their origins. The latter was crucial, as only those of noble birth or noble origin could participate in certain events, like the jousting.
For this tournament, there were four categories: jousting, single combat, melee, and archery. Behind the tables stood a flat wooden rack with four large shields hanging from it, each depicting a category: One for jousting, showing an armored knight wielding a lance and shield atop his horse. One for single combat, featuring a lone longsword. One for melee, with two crossed swords clashing. One for archery, bearing the image of a bow.
The rules for jousting and single combat were more lenient this time—warriors with knighthood, even if not of noble birth, could participate. Otherwise, potential contestants had to prove their qualifications, as only knights of noble birth were traditionally allowed. Noble birth had to be established for four generations on either side of the family, and patents of nobility had to be provided.
The melee was open to anyone willing to risk death, but participation was limited to a set quota. Once filled, no more contestants were accepted. The same applied to archery. Since many wanted to participate in these two events due to the generous rewards, eliminatory single combats and archery tournaments were held separately to determine who would compete on the main grounds. Those left out would still receive a few silver coins for their merit in standing out, regardless of their performance in the main event.
Given the amount of people willing to participate, there were two long lines one for those who wished to participate in the melee and the archery with most of the people that were left for those who were directed by Maester Simon to register, while the nobles and knights lined another one and were attended by Maester Simon who checked their origins and his subordinates registered them.
Most nobles sent their attendants instead of being present for their registration, and knights were lined up to register themselves.
After presenting their credentials and origins—regardless of the event they wished to participate in—they were provided a long wooden stick wrapped in padded cloth at one end, which they could use to knock the shield of the category they wished to compete in. Then they were assigned and added to the event.
The main grounds were designed as a long rectangle with plenty of space for jousting and other events. On the four sides were the stands: the long west side held the royal stand, where the Targaryen family and other nobles would sit, while the stands on the flanks served as extras for nobles who wished to use them—but mostly, they were filled by people of certain standing, such as merchants, noble followers and acquaintances, or visitors from far away with some status. The long stand in front, on the east side, was available to the common folk. If they weren't lucky enough to get a seat, they were also allowed to stand around the tournament grounds behind a barrier in front of the stands—except they were forbidden from gathering in front of the royal stand. There, the family's black guards stood in a long line, protecting their lords and nobles.
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The Targaryens did not move through the crowded streets alone. Long rows of city guards moved at their sides, ahead and behind, pushing the sea of people back just enough to open a path. Behind them came the household's black guards, their black armor bright in the sun, bearing the newly designed house banners of the three-headed dragon raised high for all to see. Between those lines, Rhaegon and his kin advanced, slow but steady, as if carried by the roar of the city itself, seated in luxurious open carriages for everyone to witness.
The people shouted blessings, calling his name and those of his sisters. At first, their voices carried the expected cries—cheers of blessing for their marriage and for the tournament to come. Yet as the crowd caught sight of the women beside him in the carriage where he sat with his sisters, their tone shifted. Murmurs rippled like waves: Visenya and Rhaenys were sitting in front of Rhaegon and his sisters, who embraced their brothers and kissed him from time to time, flaunting their intimacy to the world. But there was also Visenya and Rhaenys, who leaned forward and kissed him without shame. Confusing the locals, as they knew their place as the wives of their lord Aegon. The whispers grew, surprise etched on many faces, but the roar of approval quickly drowned them out. The city cheered—not less, but louder—as if the boldness of it only fed their fire.
Rhaegon felt the press of his women around him as they moved, each taking her place without question, as they passed through the endless rows of folk stretching out hands to salute or try to touch them. His mother's gaze was calm and smiling, filled with happiness, and Rhaenys's laughter rang out when the crowd pushed closer. The intimacy did not weaken their parade; it showed the people that he was the future master of his house and blood, and that those of his line stood united in him.
The street itself had become a river of bodies, flowing toward the west. Windows were filled with onlookers waving cloth and ribbons. Children darted out with flowers, which the guards let through, and Rhaegon caught them as they came—tossing blossoms back into the air, each throw answered by more cheers. Behind their carriage were others, just as luxurious, carrying the rest of his companions—the other women who had sworn themselves to him and those for his father, grandfather, and grandmother, the lords of the house.
By the time the procession neared the tournament grounds, the sound of the crowd had swelled into something like thunder. The barriers and guards could hardly contain them, yet none dared break through the lines. It was as though the whole of Dragonstone poured its heart into the streets that day, their blessings washing over Rhaegon as he led his family onward to the waiting stands and the field prepared for battle.
As the family's procession entered the main grounds, the roar of the crowd shook the air from the stands and all around. But then another sound came—deep and thunderous—drowning even the sea of voices. A dragon's cry tore across the skies, rolling louder than the waves against Dragonstone's cliffs. Every head turned upward.
"Deathwing."
Rhaegon recognized his dragon as he cut across the heavens, black scales glinting with streaks of red as his wings beat the air. His enormous body cast a shadow over the city.
He roared once more, the sound echoing across the city and carrying over the open field, making the earth itself seem to tremble. The people answered with wilder cheers, some raising hands toward the sky in awe, others dropping to their knees.
Deathwing circled above them, vast and fearsome, before banking toward the mountains near the port. There, he landed on the jagged rock face, his claws carving into stone as he pulled himself to rest atop the peak. His final roar rolled across the city like thunder before he quieted, looming in silence. He watched from his perch, golden eyes fixed on the field below as if guarding his rider and family.
The cheers had not dimmed—only grown stronger. By the time the Targaryens passed beneath the royal stand, the crowd's voices had become a storm of blessings, chants, and cries of loyalty.
They climbed the steps into the stand itself. At the center, upon the main seats of honor, sat Aerion Targaryen and his lady, Valaena Velaryon. Their presence was solemn, the weight of rule clear in their bearing as they looked out over the tournament grounds. Beside Aerion sat Aegon, next in line, his face steady with a small smile, though his eyes shifted often to the crowd below.
Rhaegon took his place further along, on the left side of the stand. His women settled around him, their closeness plain to all. Visenya sat to his immediate right, her seat a mark of her place as his main wife. Rhaenys leaned casually in the next seat beside her sister, her lips curved in a faint smile at the eyes upon them. At his left were Vaenya and Rhaenya. The rest of his companions arranged themselves nearby, their beauty and fine silks making a living wall of color around their husband.
From where he sat, Rhaegon could feel the weight of thousands of gazes. The stand, the field, the mountainside—every eye in the city seemed fixed upon him and his family. In the stand, there were also their relatives and others from House Velaryon and nobles from House Celtigar. While those from noble houses from the Westeros mainland also had a seat arranged at other places farther away.