The Necromancer King (A Game Of Thrones)

Show of Determination

Aerion readied his lance and kept his wild horse steady, waiting for the match to start.

"May this round of jousting commence!"

He rode forwards with confidence as he prepared to clash against Renly Baratheon. With every passing second, the two mounted competitors galloped closer. Tensions rose, their hearts started to beat faster... but it all ended swiftly.

Aerion's eyes glowed violet as he saw through Renly Baratheon and smashed his lance into Renly's armour. The poor Baratheon fell, collapsing on the ground beneath Aerion Targaryen who steadied his horse. He looked down on him for a moment before turning his gaze elsewhere and riding away.

The crowd cheered loudly for Aerion Targaryen's victory, even if it was a short round.

~

The Grand Joust proceeded as expected all the way into the Top Eight. Aerion Targaryen found some difficulty in his later two opponents but he swiftly adapted and grew from those experiences. Or rather, he removed the dust from his brilliant lance over time.

His next opponent would be Loras Tyrell, who was barely fifteen years old yet an impressive talent nonetheless. He had managed to carve a way into the top eight, felling three capable knights as he did so. Such valour did not go noticed, naturally.

The two met in the stands amongst the crowd before the match to have a little discussion.

"You fight well, Loras, and you have the favour of the crowd." Aerion Targaryen praised, even smiling a little as he did so. "Our match will be one worth writing a song about, I'm sure."

"Hahaha... you praise me far too much, Your Grace." Loras Tyrell chuckled and bowed in a humble manner. "Whether it is in popularity, beauty, swordsmanship or jousting, you are a greater man than I in every aspect. I am sure that most people wish to know which lucky lady His Grace would choose as his Queen of Love and Beauty. As such, spoiling this possibility would only make me an enemy of the people, hahaha."

"I would not have you go easy on me, Loras." Aerion Targaryen's tone grew urgent as he was unwilling to fight a rigged match. "If you do, I'll have you taking the black."

"... His Grace makes good jokes when he feels like it, wouldn't you agree, Ser?" Viserys suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Indeed, His Grace is a unique presence that brings life to us all." Loras Tyrell nodded, returning Aerion's earlier smile. "Rest assured, Your Grace, I will be leaving that field with all of my strength exerted. If you win, then it is simply a testament to your great ability."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He, in turn, replied courteously.

"I will be wishing for your victory in this Great Tourney, My Emperor." Margaery Tyrell confronted Aerion afterwards who was still accompanied by Arianne Martell and Jocelyn Baratheon.

"And not your brother's?"

"He is still young and inexperienced with plenty of tournies to win in the future." Margaery Tyrell replied simply, smiling alluringly as she did so. She even played a little with her curly brown hair, twirling it with her finger. "But you, My Emperor, have the ability to win the entire joust and only a few days from your long-awaited nameday. No slight to my brother... but I would much rather have you succeed."

"You should know that my beloved here is attending solely because of me." Arianne Martell grabbed Aerion's left arm close to her rather large breasts as a way of spiting Margaery Tyrell... and telling her to back off.

"Of course... I couldn't think of a better choice for the Queen of Love and Beauty but you, lady Arianne." Margaery Tyrell did not counter with any daggers herself, instead, she complimented Aerion's closest woman. "However, our Emperor's mind is his own and, if he won, it could very well be someone you might not expect."