𝟎. the tourney at harrenhal

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.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.


"Gods it is cold here." Pavarti whispered to herself, wrapping her scarves closer to her body as yet another now crippled man was pulled from the floors of the tourney hall before the royal box. "I do not know how you can bare it."

"I do not know myself." Elia said with a little laugh, holding her newborn daughter close to her chest. "Truly sister, you did not have to come along. These are so trivial."

"No no your husband is performing is he not?" Pavarti said, her expression noticeably tightening as she mentioned the silver prince. "I need something new to belittle him about, other than-"

"Hush Pavarti." Elia said warningly, her eyes flickering to the King who sat above them a few seats away. "Do not him hear you. I know your jests are merely jests but to him..."

Pavarti sighed, refusing to glance at the decrepit King her sister was speaking of. the last time she had seen King Aerys Targaryen had been at her sisters wedding two years ago. Pavarti had been but six and ten at the time but she did not shrink away even then from the sight of the cruel king. But now... things were different.

Aerys' appearance had began to deteriorate after his captivity during the Defiance of Duskendale. He afterwards refused to wash, and would not allow anyone to cut his hair, trim his beard, or cut his fingernails due to his fear of being touched. As a result, his hair grew past his shoulders to his waist and became matted, his beard tangled, and his fingernails grew to be yellow talons of almost a foot long.

He looked far older and far fiercer than he actually was, Pavarti had thought when reunited with the Targaryen family. Something stirred within her at the sight of him. And nothing good.

"The Lord to be, Robert of House Baratheon will now be jousting against the Prince Oberyn of House Martell!" The announcer called out, much to the excitement of the crowd itself.

"Ah this will be good." Pavarti exclaimed with a little smile, delighting in the change of topic as she leaned forward to watch her brother and his newest competitor. "Expect a bet, sister."

Pavarti watched as her brother, Oberyn Martell the Red Viper, came trotting in on his sleek white mare. Her elder brother by only a few years, was a trained warrior. Let that be known, he was no knight.

Her gaze was quickly stolen from her brother to the second participant of this joust, a large figure atop a stallion who looked as though its coat was stolen from the night sky at its blackest. Beneath his helmet, Pavarti could not see his face but she noticed his hands were rough and coarse where they gripped his reigns. He seemed strong and powerful, and muscled. 

"Like a maiden's fantasy is he not?" Elia said teasingly, noticing how her sister's eyes lingered on the man. Pavarti turned to her sister with a raised brow and Elia rolled her eyes with a small smile. "Do not think like that, I love Rhaegar. But I cannot deny that Robert Baratheon does not catch the eyes of every woman at court and beyond. I would be a fool to say I did not recognise such handsomeness, if you will."

Pavarti smiled with a jest glinting in her eyes but before she could speak, a coarse and rugged voice broke the cheers that surrounded them all.

"My Prince." Robert Baratheon called to Oberyn who still had an amused smile on his face as they each took their positions. "Are you prepared to lose?"

As he spoke, Robert pulled his helm from his head and Pavarti got a proper look at the mans face. He had the classic Baratheon look; with thick dark hair and piercing ocean blue eyes that fell on her as they flicked to the Royal Box.

𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 | robert baratheonWhere stories live. Discover now