9th Moon, 8016

Fields outside Kings Landing

The sun was shining brightly as Vaemond approached his horse. An excited murmur made its way through the crowd.

Corlys Velaryon was at his side, the dust of the tourney grounds mixing with the sweltering heat ‘’I've asked around about your opponent….but i'm afraid I don't have much advice for you….Ser Orson is unpredictable.’’

Vaemond nodded, mounting his horse, as he was only 14, he had no squire of his own so Omer Bulwer, the boy who had come to be fostered by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard due to his fathers prowess in the lists some years ago attended him.

The young squire had already helped him into his armor, black plate with a golden dragon emblem, but now that he was mounted he handed Vaemond a black helm, a slit to see through, then a lance and shield None of the equipment was scaled down, despite being only 14, Vaemond found he was the same size if not taller of many men in the court with a strength to match.

His opponent, a younger brother of the lord of Farring Cross was less impressive, wearing a leather jerkin, mail, and a surcoat, bright purple and white in the colors of his house.

Vaemond steadied himself, preparing for the signal to be given by the trumpeters.

It was to be Vaemonds first joust. Once word that Matarys and Demerei Royce were to be wed, Brynden Tully, commander of the Gold Cloaks and overseer of Kings Landing had announced that he would fund a small tourney as his gift for the newly weds, rather ironic as the aging man had lost his leg in one some years prior.

It was to be a small affair, with only the knights of the Kinsguard and combatants from the castles and lands surrounding the capitol, a region that had become known as the Crownlands ever since Aegon's conquest. Vaemond had been determined to take part, and his mother had of course offered a feeble resistance, but not much, she was always so tired lately, though he had thought that he had even seen a  glimpse of pride on her face when she came to wish him well.

‘’It's your first joust…..so don't try and inspire a song by doing something outlandish….shield up, lance down…after that it's all luck…and horsemanship’’ Corlys said, patting the mounted Vaemond on the leg.

Vaemond supposed he should have some measure of fear, he had seen the consequences of a joust gone wrong, Orys Baratheon his fathers best friend and half-brother had lost his eye on this very field, as Ser Brynden had lost his leg, but all he could feel in his body was excitement, few things scared him after his fall from the crows nest in the Sunset Sea.

Vaemond would have liked to give a look to his sister, brother, and mother in the royal pavilion, but the dust and sun meant he could only make out the dragon banner.

The trumpets heralded the beginning of the joust, and Vaemond sent his horse, a brown warhorse, thundering forward at Ser Orson Farring. Jousting was an activity that required a good deal of self awareness, when to go on the attack, and when to realize you were in a poor position and attempt to defend.

Vaemond rode well on his first tilt, but Ser Orson rode with the experience of a man used to participating in tourneys, and it was his lance that struck first, Vaemond had been so sure he was in a good position to strike first he had not even attempted to block the strike, but by chance Ser Orsons blow hit his shield, shattering it and sending wood chips flying everywhere, and the two riders prepared to go again, with Omer Bulwer handing Vaemond another shield. The second tilt saw neither rider shatter a lance and they prepared for the third, and decisive tilt which ended in Vaemond falling from his horse into the dirt, causing a loud murmur through the crowd.

Ser Orson dismounted immediately, and to the crowd's relief, helped Vaemond up, who began to dust himself off. Ser Orson Farring dispensed with the need for Vaemond to ransom his horse and black and golden plate armor, and Vaemond made his way back to the royal pavilion, a little bruised but otherwise unharmed.

‘’I am glad you are unhurt Vae.’’ Matarys, who was sitting beside Demerei Royce said.

‘’You rode well brother.’’ Nyel said graciously as he took a seat.

Vaemond shook his head ‘’I rode well in the first tilt but I was never anywhere close to landing a hit in any of the others.’’

‘’Still….for your first joust….’’ Nyel offered, taking his shoulder gently and picking out a wood chip that had embedded in his tunic.

‘’If I’m to be King I will have to deal with worse than the likes of Orson Farring.’’ Vaemond said, somewhat sullenly as Nyel pulled out the shard.

‘’And when you do deal with them….it will not be on the tourney grounds….jousting is a game for old done men and young boys to play at war….your father never rode in them.’’ His mother said, approaching, her voice sharp as it was so often.

‘’Well I enjoyed it nonetheless.’’ Vaemond responded, feeling like a fool the moment the words left his mouth, it was his curse.

His mother nodded curtly at that ‘’You enjoyed it because you are yet a boy Vaemond….when you see battle perhaps you will enjoy it less.’’

The rest of the jousting was concluded within a few hours as it was a smaller tourney. Ser Gregor Goode, and Ser Roland Crakehall of the Kinsguard rode well, as did Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood, but in the end it had been the newest and youngest member of the Kingsguard, Ser Roland Crakehall who had won the honors.

By the time Ser Roland had secured his victory, dusk had come, and the tourney ground began to empty, most of the spectators reluctantly returning to their homes or taverns, while the most notable guests made their way to the Sept for the wedding between Matarys Targaryen and Demerei Royce.

Visenya had chosen to hold the wedding in the small sept within the Aegonfort, with only those of suitable rank being invited. Orys Baratheon was present, as was Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood. Lord Nestor Royce and his wife Nynia, who had been named Queen of Love and Beauty all those years ago, were standing at the front rank to see their daughter married, Rhaenys had made the trip from Storms End as well, giving Vaemond a smile as he entered the small sept, she looked pale however, and had heard his mother mention she suffered from the same cancer that Ser Corlys did.

A plump septon stood at the altar, moonlight pouring through the seven glass windows.

Matarys stood in front of him, his silver hair shaved short and dressed in a tight fitting black leather jerkin with red garnets set about the neck. Demerei Royce was beside him.

Matarys had grown taller since Vaemond had seen him last, but Demeri stood a few inches taller still, her light brown hair, which matched her eyes was pulled back and she wore a white dress. Her thin lips had a small smile on them as she stood next to Matarys.

Once it was clear all those in attendance were present, the plump septon began the ceremony.

‘’In the sight of gods and men….we call upon the seven to witnes…’’ The septon began before Matarys gave a small chuckle.

‘’My good septon….there are no gods here.’’ Matarys said matter of factly, causing the plump septon to gasp and an awkward silence to fill the sept.

‘’Blasphemy…….’’ The septon said after some pause, raising a meaty finger towards the prince.

Vaemond saw his mother was about to stand up but before she could Demerei Royce interjected.

‘’Forgive me septon, but I believe my betrothed meant no offense…only to point out that not all the seven are here at this moment, would it not be more fitting to ask the mother, maiden, and crone to witness our vows…surely the warrior has little interest in weddings.’’ Demerei Royce pointed out, it was clear she was extremely intelligent.

The septon paused at that ‘’Well…hmmm..I….perhaps.’’ he said, clearly flustered.

‘’Continue Septon Owen.’’ Visenya commanded and the ceremony went without further interruption.

When the time came, Nestor Royce, Lord of Runestone approached his daughter and removed her wedding cloak, which was pale orange cloth with black cloth stitched in the shape of runes of the first men.

Matarys took his own cloak, black as midnight with a dark red dragon and placed it on her shoulders with some difficulty, welcoming Demerei Royce into the protection of House Targaryen.

 Once this was done, the septon, still somewhat perturbed about the earlier interruption, said the customary words, with the betrothed giving oaths of love and loyalty before exchanging a kiss, officially binding House Targaryen and House Royce.

Following this, the small procession moved to the Aegonfort where a feast had been prepared which went on for several hours, there was no bedding ceremony as the two were still young however.

Midnight

Vaemonds Chambers

Vaemond was awoken by his door creaking open, a figure holding a candle making their way through the door before carefully shutting it.

Vaemond propped himself up, squinting in the darkness to figure out who it was as the figure approached, the candle illuminating the silver hair and violet eyes of his sister.

‘’Nyel?’’ Vaemond asked with confusion.

She put a lip to her lips and approached his bed.

‘’How did you get past the Kingsguard?’’ Vaemond asked with confusion, his door was guarded in shifts by his Kinsguard throughout the night.

‘’Changing of the guard.’’ Nyel responded quietly

‘’It's a good thing you're not an assassin…..it seems I'm easier to kill than I thought’’ Vaemond said, still groggy from sleep.

She ignored that and put a hand on his shoulder, gently, Vaemond grimaced and pulled away, both in pain and with a little embarrassment, he had fallen on the shoulder hard during the tourney.

‘’What are you doing?’’ He asked.

‘’You're wounded worse than I thought your Grace.’’ She said, gently massaging it.

‘’You don't have to call me that.’’ Vaemond said, looking at her, noticing not for the first time how her violet eyes seemed to sparkle.

Afterwards he couldn't say how it started but suddenly he was kissing her, while she gently pushed him down onto the bed and unlaced his shirt, he didn't resist her.