CHAPTER TWO . . . water and wine act one / dragon of the sea
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THE WIND WAS HARSH, THE WAVES SMACKED AGAINST THE ROCKS, but the sun shone brightly and squires were fitting on armour for their knights and lords. The air smelled of nothing but salt and banners of Houses great and small swirled and spun in the air.
The banner of House Targaryen stood among them, proud and tall, and as a gust of wind lifted the black silk atop the staff, the three-headed dragon seemed to spread its wings. Two Kingsguard knights scaled in white armour stood in front of the black pavilion, guarding the entrance.
Aegon Targaryen, the fourth son of Prince Maekar, stood in front, leaning by a shield emblazoned with the sigil of House Targaryen. The taste of salt hung in his mouth, but he didn't mind, it was a nice change of scenery. He watched, amused, at a silly fight over horses break out a few metres away from him.
He wondered if the tourney was soon to begin as the area seemed to grow restless.The main viewing stand where the Velaryons were meant to appear was still empty, and the crowd was becoming impatient. It should be any minute now before the games began. But Aegon had no interest participating in this tourney, as he was only here to support and watch his cousin who was fighting for the Velaryon girl's hand.
He could recognise the different coloured silk banners of different houses. Splashes of purple and green and even checkered patterns stood out the most. There were some houses he hadn't seen since the Ashford Tourney, but nonetheless, they were here. Among them was the crowned stag of House Baratheon, the rooster of House Connington and the apple of House Fossoway.
Multiple houses from the Crownlands were here — Celtigar, Massey and Stokeworth. Lord Massey's son was skinny as a stick, and Aegon wondered if the gaunt-looking boy could even lift a steel sword. He guessed they were also here for the fame. Many people seized at any opportunity to win a tourney, as they were sometimes good fun after all. Horses and armour were also forfeited to winners.
"Come inside and help me adjust this, cousin," a voice called from inside the tent.
Aegon sighed and made his way inside the pavilion towards his cousin. Daemion was the only son of Prince Aemond, his father's cousin. Daemion had a lower claim to the Iron Throne than himself, which was one of the reasons the two of them were permitted to travel to Driftmark. Unlike the usual Valyrian violet eyes and almost silver hair that set them apart from common men, Daemion had average brown hair, likely passed down from his mother, a Martell.
"I'm not your squire," Aegon replied as Daemion grabbed his helm.
"But you were one in your youth. Besides, my own squire has run off somewhere; when there are girls around gods knows where he runs off to," he shook his head.
