READ NOVEL FREE Chapter 13: tourney
"To the sorcerer lord", the soldiers toasted to Renly as he was flying over them, they were entirely unaware of this however and were just drinking to their hearts content. As the wind rushed under his wings, he circled Pyke, looking at the smallfolk sharing wine and meat with the soldiers still there. If a bird could smile, he would've been grinning. The smallfolk loved him, he was their savior. All of this was in preparation for taking the crown. Who would the common folk, the maids, the cooks, the tanners, choose, Stannis? The man who spent his time at court furthering the king's gluttony or Renly? The man who shared his feasts with his subjects, who freed them from the Greyjoys. The answer to that question was obvious. Even without falling to the red woman, Stannis was a deeply unpopular lord. Even in the main story, he had to resort to a shadow assassin to win against his brother but with Renly taking an effort to make himself as popular as possible, he was sure to win. He would take the throne after Robert died and Stannis would die. His devotion to the Red woman was too dangerous to be allowed to continue her work.
He could start the process already but no, to win against the Lannisters, he needed dragons, grown dragons. Tywin was dangerous. He could always try to sneak in as a raven or rat but if he failed to kill him in one blow, the old lion could very well kill him. He wasn't invincible, the faceless woman showed him that and the dragon serpent showed him he could still be scarred. Magic couldn't fix every wound, especially not if he was restrained or his throat slit. If he couldn't speak the words or form the gestures, he couldn't heal himself. This was also why it was imperative to not reveal his shape shifting to the masses. His use of it had already been dangerous but if the masses knew about it, his trump card would be gone.
A week later, he was in Casterly Rock. His army had returned back into the stormlands or rather, they were on their way. He would've preferred to go with them but Robert had insisted that he stay at Casterly Rock with him to attend Tywins turney held in their home.
The tourney preparations were hastily done and Renly was forced to sit next to his brother as the knights engaged in a joust. Renly didn't like jousting, not at all. It was no real combat in his eyes. That so much focus was laid on it was a shame in his eye. What interested him though was the person currently jousting, The Mountain who rides. The bastard… he would die. In the future, not right now. He would present his head to the Martells to get them on his side. Oberyn Martell was sitting with them and looking at him, he wanted the mountain dead with all his might. The malice behind those eyes was intense.
The dornish lord shifted his attention to the vodka he was being handed by the king.
The mountain unhorsed his opponent and rode a lap around the arena, his hands in the air. The next opponent was Johra Mormont. This bout was exceptionally fast, the mountain laid on the ground pretty fast. The mountain might have superior strength and size but Mormont had the better skill.
And as such, Mormont was crowned the victor. He rode to Lady Lynesse Hightower and crowned her his queen of love and beauty.
Renly could only shake his head, that woman would ruin the mormonts but he said nothing, his attention shifting to Ned Stark, who was silently drinking his wine, stone grey eyes slowly travelling over the crowd. He was a good man, if naive, yet he would undoubtedly support Stannis in the war to come. A shame but when the fighting was over, Renly wouldn't punish him, he just did as his honor commanded him, after all, Stannis was the one with the better claim outbid the two of them. He might have the claim but he won't have the support. The nobles stationed at Pyke were good friends of his, the stormlanders took him as some kind of god, with how he cared for the needy. He had received notice from back home that the food kitchens were a resounding success, the septons praised him as blessed. Dorne would be his when presented the Mountains head and the Westerlands would fall in the war to his dragons. The Tyrell's would most likely ally themselves with him too. The Tully's and the Arryns could go either way and the North would support Stannis. All that could make him lose was the blasted red woman. He was confident he could survive her but it wasn't guaranteed. Renly had to stay vigilant.
The servants disassembled the jousting arena and set up targets, the archery contest was next.
This selection was much thinner. The joust and melee took most of the attention of the public. This was also a competition which saw quite a bit of low-born participation, which was in part why it wasn't as popular. It wasn't all too common for a commoner to win but it did happen. As the arrows flew, a lot more wine, vodka and ale was handed around and Robert was joking with Thoros of Myr, whilst fondling a serving girl. Renly could see Tywin shooting glares at the king. After all, he was openly cheating on his wife. At the end, an unimportant knight won the archery competition. He was young, probably just having been knighted. Renly too was getting progressively more intoxicated. Before the melee began, he left, too drunk to function in public. So, he stumbled into his chambers. In the room waited a naked servant girl.
She was petite, with small but firm breasts. Her eyes shone like rubies, her hair was like gold, framing her features beautifully. She was well tanned and had a coy smile on her face, "oh milord, I have been dreaming of this day for a long time, they say you are blessed… I want to find out for myself just how… divine you are"
She licked her soft, pink lips and Renly's manhood stiffened. In his drunken stupor, he didn't have the willpower to resist.