Blood of Dragons

A wedding tourney, held in celebration of the union between Ser Otho Royce and Lady Elyne Lefford, was an event of great spectacle, where lords and knights from across the realm gathered to test their mettle upon the lists. Before a noble audience that included Princess Rhaena and the Hand of the King, the competitors rode beneath banners of bronze and gold. The final day of jousting would be dominated by two names: Ser Otho Royce, the groom himself, and Ser Omrys Baratheon. But if the contest had crowned its champion in the lists, it was what followed that would be spoken of long after the dust had settled.

The opening tilts set the stage for what was to come. Among the competitors, the Royces stood strong, with Ser Otho Royce and the famed Ser Waymar the Rune both taking the field. Ser Jon Roxton, a seasoned knight of the Reach, rode with an air of cold determination, while Ser Orbert Farman of Fair Isle and Ser Balon Selmy brought the pride of the Westerlands and the Stormlands, respectively. From the Riverlands, the mighty Ser Othan Bracken, called Blackmane, and Ser Orin Blackwood carried forward the ancient feud of their Houses.

The first surprise of the day came when Ser Omrys Baratheon faced Ser Jon Roxton in a match that quickly gripped the audience. Roxton, never one to let a contest pass without stakes, proposed a wager of a pipe of wine to whomever first broke three lances. The challenge was met with laughter and cheers, and as the knights charged, the match stretched into four brutal passes, both men proving their worth. In the final clash, Omrys’s power won out, unhorsing the Reachman in spectacular fashion and setting the tone for his march through the lists

Though defeated once, knights had the chance to ride again against others similarly defeated, and they fought with a renewed vigor. Ser Jon Roxton would rally, unseating Othan Blackmane, while Orin Blackwood fell to Ser Orbert Farman, ending his bid for victory. Ser Otho Royce, determined that his own wedding tourney would not see him cast aside, fought his way through the ranks, defeating Roxton in a hard-fought match before going on to best Selmy as well.

As the competition thinned, all eyes turned toward Ser Omrys Baratheon, whose dominance had become undeniable. In a much-anticipated clash with Ser Waymar Royce, the knight of Runestone proved a formidable opponent, but Baratheon’s fury won through. The final match was set—Ser Otho Royce, the groom, against Ser Omrys Baratheon, the stormlord. It proved a close contest, a clash of skills and wills. Ser Otho Royce rode strong, but Ser Omrys was unrelenting. The first pass saw both men land solid blows, their lances shattering but neither yielding. In the second, Royce was unhorsed in a decisive strike, sending Ser Omrys Baratheon to victory.

The crowd erupted in cheers, but the day was far from over. What followed would overshadow even the most hard-fought tilts. As the herald proclaimed his victory, Ser Omrys, drunk on triumph, did not merely bask in the glory of the moment—he seized it with reckless abandon. The assembled lords and ladies watched as he ripped off his helm, took up a flowery crown, and rode to the noble box where Lady Lenora Lannister sat in regal splendor. With the fervor of a man possessed, he declared her his Queen of Love and Beauty and offered her the wreath in grand display.

But the stormlord did not stop there.

In a move that sent shock and scandal rippling through the crowd, he dropped to one knee and, before the gathered nobility of Westeros, proposed marriage. For a moment, all fell into silence. And then, the murmurs began.

From the nobility, there was no mistaking the sharp intake of scandalized gasps, the hurried whispers of disapproval and disbelief. Some jeered, others laughed in bemusement, but more than a few cast looks toward the westerlanders, waiting to see how House Lannister would answer.

The lady Lenora, daughter of Casterly Rock’s heir, usually ever-composed yet now seemed visibly shaken. Despite this, she accepted the wreath with measured grace. But she did not place it upon her own brow. Instead, with calculated poise, she turned and bestowed the garland upon Lady Elyne Royce, the bride of the day, ensuring the honor remained where it rightly belonged. Her words, delivered with care, rang clear:

“Ser, you have ridden well bearing my favor, and I thank you for yours in return. But a Lady of Lannister is not a prize to be won at games.”

And with that, the moment passed, yet the echoes of its audacity will not soon be forgotten.

What should have been the crowning triumph of Ser Omrys Baratheon became something else entirely—a spectacle of recklessness, a breach of tradition too brazen to ignore. Some called it folly, others outright madness. Even those inclined to favor him could not deny the staggering impropriety of his actions—an offense to both tradition and the dignity of House Lannister. There is glory in victory, but there is also wisdom in knowing when to leave well enough alone.