"You all know what we are here for! Get on with it!", Robert shouted, waving his arms, a goblet in hand, which he raised to his mouth. Robert was a warrior through and through. Jon knew this, so he hadn't expected much of a speech but this was still embarrassing.
The jousting was the first event. The announcer proclaimed, "the first jousters, are Ser Jon Snow and Ser Gregor Clegane!"
Of course his first opponent would be the mountain that rides. The man was emposing, that's for sure but he had confidence in his ability. Defeating him would surely win him a lot of attention.
As they were getting ready, mounting their horses, up in the king's stance, Robert Baratheon looked intrigued at the northern boy, "that boy… he looks a lot like Ned… wasn't his bastard also named Jon? Could it be? Is Ned here?"
"No your highness, Lord Stark has declined the invitation", Jon Arryn, the hand of the king said, "Ned's bastard however has been seen riding south through kings landing a few months ago. But a ser at four and ten? Either this is someone different or we have found a new generation genius"
"My bet is on the mountain, 15 gold dragons", Little Finger Said. The boy reminded him of himself, back when he had dueled the stark boy, smaller than his opponent and far less experienced. He didn't win, so why should this be any different?
"I'll raise your bet to 25 dragons that the Bastard wins", Tyrion Lannister, the imp interjected. He had always favoured the underdogs, except when it came to his brother. He wouldn't bet against the person who had supported him more than anyone else.
"Deal, bring out those coins now, this won't take long"
Jon readied his lance as he watched the huge man do the same. This wouldn't be easy but who said he had to fight fair? He had no notion of some sparkling honor that needed to be upheld. Winning was winning, losing was losing. So, as they charged each other and the crowd roared, he pulled at his opponents lance with telekinesis, slightly tilting it so that it would harmlessly brush against his shield. They rushed at each other and, just as predicted, his lance hit the mountain with full force. He wasn't dismounted but the giant of a man grunted in pain.
They circled once more and rushed back into each other. Again, he pulled at the lance and this time, Jon's lance dismounted the mountain who rides. The crowd was silent for but a second before they roared.
Tyrion held up his hand expectantly and Littlefinger grumbled, handing him the gold.
No one had expected that, no one except Edric, who was sitting with Greg and Bob by his side, nodding knowingly. The three had full confidence in Jon's skill. Over the next jousts, the bastards and Lord of Starfall earned more and more gold by betting on Jon. By the time that the final joust had been decided to be between Jon and Bry the gold tooth(a essosi sellsword), a fan chorus for Jon had formed. The absolute underdog, winning over and over again and his bronze armor was memorable too. Especially that headpiece.
"Snow! Snow! Snow!" The crowd cheered as the two riders charged each other. Jon aimed at his opponent and he did the same. Both lances shattered upon impact and they were handed new ones. They circled around thrice before Jon finally dehorsed the sellsword.
Jon was handed a wrearh of flowers. He knew what this was. As the winner of the joust, he could appoint a queen of love and beauty. But who to give it to? His eyes scanned over the crowd. The obvious choice would've been Cersei or the princess but Cersei was crazy and might see issue with being crowned the queen of love and beauty by a bastard and Myrcella was a child. Looking through the crowds, he saw a nice looking girl with freckles and long, dark hair, spouting the coat of the Redwynes. She was about his age. Might as well.
He rode to the Redwyne girl and handed her the flower crown. She squealed with joy and grew red hot. She took the crown and placed it on her head, presenting her hand, which he kissed, "it is nice to meet you lady…"
"Desmera", she whispered, giggling with her friends which sat by her, jealous. Jon wasn't bad looking, not at all and he was also a gifted jouster, as seen by his victory. His eyes were like a raging fire, crimson and his hair looked silky smooth.
"I'll see you around, beautiful", he winked at her, riding off. She was cute… maybe he would take her as one of his queens. The Targaryens of old took multiple wives, so why couldn't he? He didn't know whether Daenerys could have children in the future. He had seen visions of her with a babe in her arms but in the show, she was steril, so having a backup wouldn't be too bad and he could live for hundreds if not thousands of years, no matter how much he loved them, he would outlive his brides. He would most likely not die of old age. Assassination most likely but until then, he would have fun and take as many wives as he fancied.
The hand called him up to the stands not too long after to be given his prize money, 30 thousand gold dragons. The Dayne guards quickly came and took it away.
"Say, boy, who is your father?" King Robert asked, studying his face.
"Lord Eddard Stark, your grace", he bowed to his king.
"So you are indeed Ned's boy! I see you have inherited his skill. Your father and I are great friends. A knight by age four and ten? You must simply tell me that story, come, drink with me, we are practically family!", the king handed him a goblet, "drink, your king commands it"