The second morning of the Hand's tourney came and Jon awoke and started preparing before Arya arrived to help him finish putting on his armor. "Are you nervous?" she asked helping him strap in his arm harness.
"Probably not as much as I should be," Jon admitted with a nod.
"You're going to win, I know it," Arya said with a grin.
"I'm glad at least one of us does," Jon said with a laugh.
Taking the red favor from Jon to tie it around his bicep she asked, "Who is this from?"
"You'll find out if I name the owner queen of love and beauty." He wore a teasing smile as he asked, "Hopefully you won't be too jealous?"
Arya scoffed. "If you gave it to me I'd throw it in your face."
"At least now I know," he chuckled, watching her go to get his sword belt as he got to his feet.
"Who do you think you'll go against?"
"I don't know."
Arya handed the belt over. "Who would you want to go against?"
Jon had spent a part of the previous night thinking on it and decided, "It doesn't matter. I'll ride against whoever I must."
Dom and Sam met them at the stables, Dom wearing a pink doublet with slashes of red satin beneath his crimson jerkin not unlike Sam's over his green doublet. Since neither planned to join the melee or the archery contest, they both agreed to serve as Jon's squires for the day.
The stands were packed with people come to see the finals of the joust as well as the other events. Ned was sat with Sansa when the moment Jaime Lannister entered, riding an elegant blood bay destrier draped in gilded mail while it's rider glittered from head to heel and Littlefinger announced, "A hundred gold dragons on the Kingslayer!"
"Done," Lord Renly shot back. "The White Wolf is more than enough to down a lion."
"Maybe the boy's pet," Littlefinger said dryly, "but we've seen this play before."
"You should be more careful with your bets, Lord Baelish," Ned said looking to them. He managed to keep himself from berating the man, saying simply, "You've just forfeited Lord Renly your gold."
"Would you like to bet as well, Lord Hand?" Littlefinger offered with a grin.
"I never bet against my family," Ned told him, turning back to watch Jon's courser stride up to the lane as Dom handed him a lance.
"You're different now," Dom told him. "Take this victory and you're one step closer."
With a nod, Jon lowered his visor and turned to look down the lane to Jaime Lannister sat in his gilded armor with a lion roaring defiantly upon his chest.
Jon thought of all the time they'd spent together before he left Winterfell for the Wall, before he knew the truth of who he was. He'd looked up to Jaime in a way. He was stained like Jon, yet never seemed to care that people spoke ill of his honor. He proved his worth with his sword, and had helped Jon in his own way. Even suspecting Jon's adoration of Myrcella hadn't turned him away from Jon, instead only seeming to amuse him as most things did.
Yet he hadn't joined Jon to spar in the weeks since their return to King's Landing. When they spoke it was only brief exchanges when Jon joined Barristan for his shifts as kingsguard. He avoided Jon otherwise, leaving Jon to question his doubts of Robb's suspicion. He wanted Robb to be wrong, to find out it was Joffrey who pushed Bran, but Robb was smart, he wouldn't forget Joffrey's presence in the hunting party. It could have been someone else, Jon had even told himself it must have been Cersei, but he couldn't help wondering if Robb could be right.
His mind was a mess as Jaime's golden lance glanced off his shield while Jon's shattered around the lion of his golden shield. Jon rode back to Arya and the others already preparing his lance when he glanced to the crowd and saw Sansa sat with their father, who wore a proud smile as he caught Jon's eye and gave him a nod. Taking up the lance he looked to the royal box and saw Myrcella wore a concerned frown, torn between cheering for the squire with her favor and her uncle. Jon found himself again hoping she would forgive him when he rode out and both lances splintered against shields as the riders passed each other.
"Third again," Domeric said watching Jon turn his horse to come back.
"Again?" Arya asked. "You mean like the last tourney?"
"He got to the third set before Ser Jaime unhorsed him last time," Sam said with a frown.
Arya stared at Jon, carefully holding up the lance as she rushed forward to give it to him. "You can do it, brother!" She saw his smile in his eyes as he took the lance and nodded, letting her back away before he turned and rode down the lane again.
Myrcella felt her breath stop as she watched them speed toward one another, her eyes widening when she suddenly heard a yell come from Jon as he pulled his arm back and thrust the lance forward so hard it exploded against the lion on Jaime's chest, throwing him off his horse.
Robert let out a bellowing laugh as he rose from his chair and clapped while Cersei clutched the arm of hers and sneered. Myrcella looked down, feeling her eyes sting with relief as she found herself able to breath again. Sansa had gasped and started clapping, cheering for her brother while Ned let out a sigh of relief and joined her, keeping himself from looking at Littlefinger to rub it in his face.
Arya dropped the lance she held to grab Sam's hands and bounce up and down with him while Domeric smirked and shook his head. Standing while his pages brought him another horse, Loras grinned seeing Jaime Lannister laying in the mud while Jon sat atop his black steed, assuring in his mind that they would face one another in the finals.
Jon rode toward where Jaime was getting back to his feet and raised his visor to smirk down at the man. "I imagine I'll take in near as much as either purse with your ransom."
Jaime grunted as he removed his dented helm, having slammed into the ground near as hard as he did. "Don't you worry," Jaime assured, "a Lannister always pays his debts."
"So I've heard," Jon said with a nod, "I'll trust you'll pay in time." With that Jon rode off toward the others, letting Jaime leave the field while Gregor Clegane took his position. Passing Loras Jon gave him a nod. "I'll meet you in the finals, Ser Loras."
Lowering his visor, Loras returned the nod. "Just give me a moment to down a mountain and we can finally have our match."
Though the crowd had settled some they cheered for Loras, Sansa asking her father to ensure Gregor didn't harm him. It seemed as if the moment Loras and his mare came to the field Ser Gregor had trouble controlling his stallion. He barely had time to take his lance before Gregor's mount broke into a gallop while Loras' charged with grace.
Sam frowned and shook his head. "A cruel trick using a mare in heat against a stallion."
"Better a trick than a lance in his neck," said Dom.
The Mountain was still struggling with his mount, shield and lance when he met Loras, who landed a perfect strike, knocking him over with his mount, not even breaking his lance. Raising his visor with a grin Loras looked upon the crowd cheering his victory.
That was when they saw Gregor disentangle himself and rise to his feet, throwing off his helm and shouting to his squire, "My sword!"
Jon leapt of his horse, "Arya get mine."
Dom's hand reached for his hilt as Arya hesitated before turning and grabbing Jon's sword, handing him the scabbard.
They watched with relief as Gregor swung the sword at his horse, severing half its neck in a single blow as the crowd shrieked as the stallion screamed and fell to its knees. Then Gregor turned and strode toward Loras as the crowd broke into yells and Sansa cried as Ned shouted, "Stop him!"
Jon drew his sword, throwing the scabbard aside as Dom's sword rang and the men charged the field. Loras' mare reared from Gregor's grasping at its reins. Loras barely kept in his seat until Gregor swung, his sword slamming into his chest and knocking him from the saddle as the courser dashed away in a panic while Loras lay stunned in the dirt.
Before they could reach him Sandor had leapt over the barricade and called out, "Leave him be!" His hand grabbed Gregor's shoulder, pulling him away from the young knight.
Jon and Dom moved around the fighting brothers swinging at one another, making their way toward Loras and helping him to his feet as Robert boomed, "STOP THIS MADNESS IN THE NAME OF YOUR KING!"
The Hound took a knee while Dom held Loras with one arm while the other held his sword and Jon stood before them both holding his sword in a defensive position ready to face the Mountain. Thankfully he came to his senses and dropped his sword with a glare at Robert as the Kingsguard and a dozen other knights and guardsmen surrounded him. Jon noticed Barristan was not far from him, Gregor shoving past the Lord Commander as Robert told them, "Let him go."
Once his daze left him and Loras was standing on his own, he moved to the Hound. "I owe you my life, ser."
"I'm no ser," the hound replied, walking back to the barrier.
Loras nodded, exhaling as he looked to Dom sheathing his sword while Jon turned to him with a smile. "You good to ride?"
"Give me a moment and I will be," Loras said with a nod.
"Good," Jon nodded. "I'll have you at your best or not at all."
Loras laughed, waving him off. "Go and ready yourself to lose, Jon."
With a playful bow Jon turned and made his way toward Arya and Sam, flashing Dom a quick look he answered with a slight nod as he stayed with Loras while his pages rushed to the other side of the field. Arya slammed into Jon, hugging him as he returned. Jon laughed, handing Sam his sword, letting him set it back in its scabbard while Jon patted Arya's back to make her release him.
"I'm fine," he assured.
Once she backed away she nodded, rushing off to bring his horse. The crowd had settled and both riders moved to their starting positions, Loras making a point to bow to Jon from atop his horse, a gesture which Jon returned before either man took a lance.
Looking at the young Knight of Flowers, Jon took a breath to steady himself. He needed this. In every he needed this. He needed the acclaim and glory to find allies and friends. He needed the purse to fund his plans. He needed to know he was as good as Loras.
Jon thought of his dream the night before, of sitting in the courtyard and bringing the egg to his chest as it hatched, releasing a gargantuan dragon. He'd felt invincible in that moment, the way only possible in a dream. It was that sensation Jon clung to, releasing a dragon in his mind as he rode and gripped his lance, feeling like Ghost rushing in for a kill.
Their first pass ended with both men shattering lance against shield without budging from their saddles. Their second ended when Jon's lance splintered against Loras's shield while Loras's slammed into his chest, yet Jon sat unmoving.
Across the field Sam noticed that as Loras returned to take another lance Dom spoke with him, giving Loras advice. It felt near cruel, and yet in their third tilt Jon ignored the lance cracking against his right shoulder as he drove his lance into Loras's shield. A strike that might have left others dazed yet Jon barely budged.
Jon returned and threw aside his broken lance, taking another from Arya which swiftly shattered against Loras's shield while he took another to his own. Their fifth lances seemed to glance off one another before slamming into shields and snapping. On their sixth pass Jon missed Loras' shield as the knight seemed to shift in his saddle and slam his lance into Jon's collar, making many gasp as splinters flew at his neck, glancing off his helm and gorget.
They heard Jon exhale as he came around and told Arya, "Put the lance down. This is my last."
She blinked up at him, quickly handing it off to Sam who set it aside. "Are you sure?"
Jon didn't answer, tugging the reins and taking a breath as he watched Loras take up a new lance swirled in green and gold. Kicking his heels the courser broke into a charge as Jon stood tall. Across the field Dom noticed Arya and Sam didn't have another lance ready and furrowed his brow, taking a step forward, wondering what Jon planned.
Loras met Jon's eyes through their visors, each man staring the other down while pulling their lanced back before they came within reach of one another. It was when both thrust forward that Jon shifted forward, the crowd gasping as they watched the blunted end of Loras' lance graze Jon's helm while he yelled and his black lance slammed into Loras, exploding against his chest. Though he stayed in his saddle, Loras slumped back gasping for the breath the hit seemed to steal from him, his lance falling from his hand as he laid back, reaching up to remove his helm.
Jon rose and shook his head, his silk streamers shaking and settling as he turned his horse and saw Loras removing his helmet. Tossing his broken lance away Jon rushed to his side. "Are you okay?" Jon asked, reaching over to help Loras sit up.
Loras nodded as his heavy breaths became laughs and he grabbed Jon's hand to raise it. That was when Jon realized the crowd had been silent until then, rising to their feet and cheering wildly for his victory.
Loras made a round with him, motioning to Jon who kept bowing his head in thanks to the crowd. With a pat on his shoulder Loras left Jon to take one on his own, "Wave to them." Jon took his advice, waving as he made his lone pass before riding to the king's booth where he was presented with a crown of red roses set upon a pillow.
Taking it he made another pass around the lanes, noting Arya's warning look and Sansa's somber smile as well as Ned's pride. Returning to the royal booth Jon said, "Though I am a bastard and no knight, you've often called me Ser while I acted as guard with Ser Barristan. While I have little to of worth to show my thanks, I offer this crown to a queen of love and beauty so kind to make even a bastard feel a ser." With that he present the crown to Myrcella.
"I thank you, Ser Jon," Myrcella said, beaming as she took the crown and carefully placed it upon her head. She'd done her hair specifically to accommodate it when he won, so it sat near perfect upon her head.
The crowd cheered as he bowed to the princess, who curtsied and returned to her seat while Jon turned and raised his hand to the crowd before returning to the others waiting for him in the sidelines. The moment he was off his horse Arya and Sam wrapped him in a hug, making him laugh as he pleaded, "I've just won. Don't kill me now."
Soon after Loras and Dom arrived to congratulate him, as did nearly every other person he passed on his way to the archery field, where Sam seemed to be carefully observing everyone while Anguy won the event. The melee lasted three hours before Thoros and his flaming sword claimed the day.
Jon had forgotten how much the winner's purse was until they wheeled it out for him along with the others. Forty thousand gold dragons had been piled into a small cart and sack, weighing more than Sam or the King himself. He could have sold his egg and bought an army, or even sold Dark Sister and named his price, but now he didn't need to. He'd pictured it as less, but opening the sack to run his fingers through the gold coins he realized just how much it was. It was enough to buy some land and live at ease most of his life. Maybe enough to fund the beginnings of a coup.
He'd bought a heavy chest with a lock to hold his armor and sword, but found himself loading it with coin for now. While they could perhaps break the lock and steal some coins, there was little chance of anyone moving the chest without the bottom collapsing.
"You'll need a chest with better locks," Arya said with a laugh watching Jon lock it.
"We could look for places to invest it and still keep more than we'll need for now," said Sam.
Jon turned to him nodding as Arya helped him remove his armor. "I'll leave it to you Sam. Think on it and find a use for all this. I might buy a few things, but this much gold surely has better uses. Other things we could fund and gain from."
Sam glanced at him over Arya's head and nodded while Dom looked himself over. There were a few spots of dirt from running out in the tilts and standing near Loras' horse. "Well I'm going to get cleaned up before the feast."
Once Dom and Sam left Arya smiled up at Jon. "I knew you could do it."
"And I'm sure the Knight of Dancing Water will unhorse a knight or two in her time" Jon said with a smirk, "leaving everyone wondering who she was."
Arya chuckled. "You think so?"
Jon nodded. "Have you ever heard of the Knight of the Laughing Tree?" When Arya shook her head he explained, "They rode at Harrenhal. A mystery knight who defeated three men from noble houses for the cruelty of their squires, shaming them before the realm in the grandest tourney ever. The next day they disappeared and no one ever found them, only their shield with a laughing weirwood sigil hanging from a tree."
Arya had removed the armor of his arms but stayed in place as he spoke. "Who do you think it was?"
Jon glanced at the door and smiled as he leaned forward conspiratorially. "Lyanna Stark."
Arya nearly dropped the armor, bringing a hand to her mouth as she gasped. "Really? How do you know?"
"I could be wrong but I heard it from a pretty reliable source," Jon offered with a shrug.
Arya beamed. "You think I could do that?"
"Only if you get bigger and train," said Jon, "but if you do? Then I've no doubt men will beg for mercy as much as they do your hand."