17

1.3K 54 1
                                    

I arrived at the tournament just on time, my mother was already seated at the centre of dais with her long hair all pinned up and a very respectable yet lovely dress. My littlest siblings were seated on the left, both excited for the tournament to begin, Joffrey on the other hand sat on the right and looked grumpy as ever. With a bright smile, I climbed the dais, holding my skirts gently, Mother looked up at me and watched carefully as I found my seat, I couldn't tell if she was proud or disappointed. But I knew how I felt about her.

"You look like a whore" Joffrey scowled, I saw him catches Sansa Starks eye, she smiled a little but he looked away quickly. "Embarrassing"

I sat down beside him, closest to my mother while he was closest to action, "I do what I want", I told him with the confidence of my earlier conversation still buzzing inside me, I would've been queen if the world worked the way it should.

"Not when I'm king" Joffrey hissed, grabbing my wrist hard, I took a sharp breath and gazed up at my mother but she ignored his actions as if he'd merely insulted me.

"Of course" I whispered and he let go, a purple swell appearing on my skin that I covered with my free hand but I felt eyes on me.

The Hound or should I say, Sandor Clegane stood just inches away, glaring down at my brother through his matted hair. Before I could acknowledge anything, my father arrived and took his seat on the dais, a drink in hand as usual.

A pebble landed in my lap and I looked around, Tommen was giggling and Myrcella elbowed him lightly. I sighed, paranoia seemed to be eating me alive at the moment, I gently tossed it back.

The crowds were cheering loudly but all silent when my father stood and opened his mouth.

"I've been sitting here for days! Start the damn joust before I piss myself" He bellowed and collapsed back into his seat, I watched my mother's reaction and she was unimpressed as usual but I wondered what he meant by her not being a saint. What had she done that my father knew about?

Instead, she got up and walked away just as the first competitor rode out and the crowds began cheering again. I put on a smile in case anyone was watching, but I doubted they were.

The first competitors were Ser Gregor Clegane, known colloquially as the Mountain, fitting to his size I assumed, and Ser Hugh of the Vale who was considerably smaller, I didn't envy him at all.

"Yes yes, enough of the bloody pon" Father sighed, "Have at it!"

With the Kings blessing, knights turned away to begin the joust, riding off to either ends of the field and when the horn was sounded, they rode at each other at top speed. I held my breath in anticipation, I disliked events like this, where we watch good men harm each other in the name of a silly prize.

They missed, but kept riding to the opposite ends of the field and I breathed a sigh of relief which didn't last long as they rode back around again.

That was when the unthinkable happened, Ser Gregor plunged a splinter of wood into the throat of Ser Hugh. I screamed, almost falling backwards of my seat, a hand caught my chair and held it upright.

Everyone fell silent as Ser Hugh lay choking to death on his own blood, I felt sick to my stomach as I glanced up at my father who at first looked shocked then disappointed.

Ser Gregor just continued riding, not bothered about the dead man and mess he lay behind, the poor knight was dragged from the field unceremoniously and I scrunched my face in disgust.

As my mother did before me, I stood and descended the dais, walking calmly back to the Keep and away from the blood and the violence.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I hoped the second day would be better than the first but I was disappointed that I'd wasted my new dress on the first unsuccessful day so instead I borrowed a beautiful red dress from my mother. The neckline was a V like my own but not as plunging and had a strong belt around the centre with large billowing sleeves. She gave it to me on the pretence that I look like a princess of Kings Landing, so I had Marin do my hair like hers, a halo of hair on the top with two twisted ends sitting my shoulders. I hated how I looked, not because it was me but because it was my mother. I loved her of course but I never wanted to be her, I only wanted to be myself and the woman I decide to be.

This time my mother didn't even bother showing up, so I took my seat and watched the final competitor present themselves to the king. Of course, Ser Gregor had made it to the end but there was also Ser Loras Tyrell. Sadly, I couldn't be happy for the Tyrell boy with the knowledge that he's on my list of suitors, looks like Lord Mace brought him to Kings Landing despite my mothers declining his offer, I was a betrothed woman anyway.

Ser Loras rode past the dais with a rose, I pursed my lips and sighed in relief when he passed back and handed the rose to Sansa who grinned so excitedly, Joffrey laughed beside me.

"Not pretty enough, sister?" He mused and I ignored him, perhaps declining his offer hit home more than I realised but also, presenting a flower to a betrothed woman would be humiliating despite no one knowing, they would know soon of course.

Before I could respond, the joust began but clearly Ser Gregor was having issues with his horse, I just assumed he was too heavy and the poor devil was having a tough time of it.

They collected their affects and got ready to ride, I felt a lump form in my throat, I couldn't watch another man die today, especially a man as noble as Ser Loras.

They connected in the middle and Ser Loras prevailed, knocking Ser Gregor clean off his horse and he fell into the fencing heavily. The crowds cheered and I heard laughter as well, not many could beat the Mountain but it seems Ser Loras was one of them.

But then, as Ser Loras performed his victory lap and the crowds cried out in joy, the Mountain rose and he was angry. His squire ran over with his sword and he brought it down on his own horse, I screamed again as I had the day before, turning away as the animal was killed.

Then, he descended on Ser Loras, taking him off his own horse and striking at him with his sword while the crowds screamed, only until another stepped in.

The Hound, he jumped down from the dais with a growl, "Leave him be" and brought his own sword on his brother.

Beside me, Joffrey stood with morbid curiosity, I followed suit, watching the brothers fight. I could see my brother smiling but also my father growing impatient and mightily unimpressed by the outburst.

"Stop this madness in the name of your king!" He finally exploded, standing up in anger, the Hound dropped to floor in a bow almost instantaneously while the Mountain, fed up and a sore loser, threw down his sword and stormed off, "Let him go!", the king instructed and the crowds parted for him.

Joffrey sat down, I stayed standing as did my father and we watched as Ser Loras approached the younger Clegane.

"I owe you my life, ser" He told me gratefully

"I'm no ser" He responded angrily, I didn't even think he wanted to be a ser, if he did then he would spend even more time with his beloved brother.

Ser Loras ignored this and grabbed his hand, raising it up with a smile, I saw Sansa from the corner of my eye jump up with glee and applaud but the Hound looked as if he would rather be anywhere else, so I didn't applaud and sat down quietly, keeping my face placid.

Ours is the Fury | Game of Thrones OCWhere stories live. Discover now