Rhaegar looked up and down the stands, searching among the boxes for his brother. He had invited him to sit with him; he needed to see him up close, to keep an eye on him. Perhaps even slip some sweet poison into his drink. Although, according to Varys, Jaehaerys had given up his drinking habit. A pity for the Redwynes and the Dornish.
He looked at the participants. That's when he frowned. His brother, who had refused to participate, was preparing for the joust.
Tywin had organized the tournament to begin with the joust, followed by archery, and finally the melee as the main event. The melee had more than a thousand participants seeking glory. Tywin had allowed anyone who could wield a weapon to enter.
'Poor fools,' the Smallfolk might think they had a chance, but the knights and lords had been raised for war. They would be nothing more than meat to be cut down by swords.
The jousting had been more strictly regulated, although it really mattered little. More than 120 men signed up. On the first day, participants would be allowed to choose their opponents until only 64 remained; some would not even participate.
His brother had armor, good armor, black armor. Rhaegar wondered what kind of steel it was; the king's armor was black too, but it looked different.
Less impressive at first glance.
"It looks like our uncle will represent his own house," Aegon said to Rhaenys.
The two siblings were close, but not as close as Rhaegar would have liked. Not as close as the three heads of the dragon should be.
The king looked at his brother's coat of arms. Two dragons, one black and one white, intertwined. Not fighting, but dancing in sync. A copper-colored background. He looked at strange symbols engraved on the shield, ones he had never seen before.
"The first participant, Ser Arthur Dayne, will select his opponent," said the announcer.
Usually, Tywin or someone from the Lannister family would have given a speech, but he was not a man of many words. He had already made clear with his actions what he intended for this tournament. Extravagance.
Although Rhaegar knew that initially it had been to eliminate Jaehaerys.
Eliminating the prince during the tournament was almost impossible. Not even Ser Arthur had enough confidence to destroy him.
For a second, Rhaegar considered ordering everyone to kill him. The deepest part of his mind whispered to him to do so.
'Aerys would have done it,' thought the king.
It wouldn't be long before people saw him as his father. No one wanted a second Mad King. Although Rhaegar did not consider himself one, he did everything for a purpose, an ultimate goal. He felt no pleasure, only the weight of his responsibility.
Not to mention that Daenerys was still in Argentstone with Visenya, backed by an army and dragons. He wondered if his little sister would seek revenge for her husband. Perhaps she would. According to Varys, they both showed genuine affection, even in King's Landing.
Ser Arthur directly challenged Ser Lyn Corbray. He was a renowned warrior, though not the most pleasant to meet. That's what the lords said. The man was quite docile in Rhaegar's presence. That same man killed Lewyn Martell at the Trident. A skilled man, if it weren't for the murder of a white cloak, who was his wife's uncle, and his conceited and proud character, Rhaegar would have given him the white cloak.
Ser Arthur was an excellent jouster. But even so, he needed to break several lances to knock Ser Lyn Corbray down. The lord of the valley fell to the ground with a thud. His heavy armor made it difficult for him to get up.
"My sword!" the man shouted.
Rhaegar almost rolled his eyes at all the cries from the crowd. The man had been quite good, but he had lost. He had lost to Arthur Dayne, the best warrior in Westeros, if Jaehaerys was not counted. Now he was challenging him to a duel. He had the right to do so, but he had no chance of winning.
"Lady Forlorn," he looked at the Valyrian steel sword with a hint of greed in his eyes. How he wished he had another sword for his house. Now he had Dark Sister with him, but that was Visenya's sword. It was not Aegon's, which is why he did not allow his heir to carry it, although the latter did not seem too interested in doing so.
The duel was less even than the joust. Ser Arthur wielded Dawn, the sword of his house. It was not a Valyrian steel sword, but it could be compared to them. It was made from a meteorite, according to the stories.
"Enough!" roared the king when Lyn fell to his knees. "Let the tournament continue." He wanted nothing more than to get out of there.
He would not see his brother die that day. But in the melee, perhaps. If Jaehaerys had entered the joust, he might also seek the gold of the melee, the highest prize. That made Rhaegar feel a little anticipation. Daenerys could not avenge her husband if he died by accident. Perhaps she could burn some man who participated in the melee, but she would have no grounds to go after the royal house.
The men rode past and competed with each other. The sound of wood breaking echoed in the king's ears. When Jaehaerys competed, he selected a random man, the bastard who had the misfortune of being next to him—a wandering mercenary.
One lance and the mercenary fell. His horse whinnied in fear.
"Our uncle doesn't seem to be a very good jouster," said Rhaenys, who had watched dozens of tournaments.
"No... I don't really think he's ever competed before. But his strength could give him a good advantage," said Aegon. "We all know Ser Gregor, he's not exactly known for his skill, but for his monstrous strength," the man he referred to was in the arena.
Gregor was still, though Rhaegar could swear the man was trembling with rage. The king hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid. He needed him alive for the melee to go against his brother.
Luckily, Gregor couldn't choose. The next participant was Loras Tyrell, who was part of the Royal Guard. Also from the Tyrells were Lady Margaery and her older brother, Garlan, who was also participating in the tournament. The young Tyrell directly challenged Gregor.
"Oh, it looks like the Knight of Flowers is going to go up against the Mountain again," said young Myrcella. Rhaegar didn't even turn to look at her.
This time, the Mountain seemed to have lost his patience. He did not want his failure to be repeated. He attacked the young knight's horse directly at the feet.
"Loras!" Garlan shouted as he moved toward his fallen brother.
Luckily, the horse did not fall on top of him, and although his leg was stuck, he seemed unharmed.
Gregor looked at Jaehaerys, as if warning him of what would happen if they met during the tournament. Jaehaerys wore a helmet, so his reaction was unknown to everyone present.
"How dishonorable," he heard someone in the crowd shout. Margaery said it with contempt for the Mountain.
Rhaegar had his doubts about how to deal with the Tyrells. He had thought that giving them a place in the royal guard would satisfy them, but no. They had been seeking a marriage between Daemon and Margaery as a form of compensation.
'Perhaps I will have to pluck some flowers from their garden,' the king would let Jaehaerys sit on the Iron Throne before he would let Daemon and Margaery marry. He heard nothing about his son in the north. The last thing Varys said about him was that he was going to the Wall to visit Maester Aemon.
The rest of the tournament continued regardless of this mishap. Some jousts ended in a single exchange, usually between the experienced and those who tried their luck. Prince Jaehaerys knocked down two more men. It seemed that with each joust, he became more accustomed to the tournament.
The tournament ended when only 64 participants remained. More would be held the next day. Two days until the end of the tournament, then it would be a day of archery, which would serve as a break before the melee.
Rhaegar waited eagerly.