Viserys sat alone quietly watching as knights passed, some bowing, others giving the king a slight nod before moving past.
To his right sat Alicent, wearing a floral green dress, with little Helena being forcibly squashed between Alicent's arms as the worried woman looked around.
Otto, standing just to the side of Viserys, said nothing and quietly inspected each of the knights passing with their retinues.
Rhaenyra sat near the front, eagerly devouring the lemon cake and sweets prepared by servants. She had her head down, trying to look small as she felt the death-like stares coming from her father.
Nobles from all over the continent wear presents, each within their own respective boxes. From House Lannister, within a box of gold-encrusted wine cups, with their banner hanging just beside the main family.
The Aryns just to the side of the royal box had their eagle sigil flowing freely as Lady Jeynce sat alone with two vale knights standing upon each side of her seat.
Opposite the Vales box was the Barratheons, their black hair alog with large figures stood out, although Boremund would be participating, he was still within the box talking to his son Borros about the upcoming jousts and the return of Prince Amon.
Another box bearing the sigil of the house Tyrells was packed; from the looks lord Garth and Lady Janna looked regal as they looked lovingly at each other in their green and golden clothes.[1]
On the far edges of the paramounts' boxes were the Norths, which were empty other than two maesters who stayed quiet, and the Martells, who were, as expected, missing too.
Viserys looked through all the boxes before landing on the standard box containing minor ladies and lords throughout the Stormalnds and some which arrived from other parts of the continent as well.
All was going smoothly as musicians played their tunes, a lovely tune about a traveller and his horse.
Hedge knights and minor lords paraded on their horses past the king as they prepared themselves along with their horses.
"Entering Lord Paramount Rickkon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North! along with his wife, Lady Gillaine Glover, and their son, plus heir, Cregan stark"
All eyes within the multiple boxes turned as the Stark Sigil came crashing down, showing the direwolf upon a tan and green background.
Rickkon, along with his wife and son, quickly moved to their seats as Rickkon scanned the royal box looking for someone.
Gillaine quietly held her husband's hand as Cregan looked around the Tourney with evident awe; never in the north had he met so many majestic-looking people.
Viserys looked stunned at the Starks arrival, quietly mummbling below his breath as Rhaenyra looked at these northerners with little interest as she looked at the Martells seats.
"Entering Lord Paramount Qoren Martell, Ruler of dorne along with his wife, Aliandra Martell!"
Everyone within the respect-giving boxes held their breath, for the Martells showed themselves in the presence of the king.
Otto quietly looked at Visery, only to see Visery's face twitching with evident annoyance and anger at the Martells arrival. Unbeknownst to most, they had rallied themselves with the Triarchy two years ago and sort of battled to secure the stepstones, suffocating the rest of the continent.
Viserys, slowly seething in anger, turned his head as he motioned towards Otto.
"Yes, your majesty?"
Otto bowed near Viserys's ear as he spoke, making sure none other than Viserys could hear.
"How in the Seven did they get here?"
Viserys spoke with unhidden anger as he pointed at the Martells box. Although the box was preapred before hand, it was at most a courtesy as Dorne was still tecnically apart of the seven kingdoms.
"I'am sorry, your majest,y but I do not know."
Otto responded as he began pondering how his spiders didn't inform him about the Martells' arrival.
Viserys didn't say anything but only clicked his mouth as he began looking around the Tourney.
"Where is my broth-"
Viserys was cut off as one of the gates of the Tourney flew open, and with it a horse with six legs with a Targaryen sigil on its back reared at the centre of the Colosseum.
"Entering Prince Amon Targaryen, Firstborn of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa Targaryen, Rider of the Black Dread Balerion!"
The announcer announced as all paramounts from the Starks, Martells, Baratheons, Lannisters, everyone rose to look at the armoured prince.
Amon sat upon his horse, armour feeling familiar as he motioned with his hand, welcoming everyone as cheers began to come from the crowd.
The cheers were overwhelming as ladies, married or not, began throwing anything they could, Flowers, roses, anything.
Rhaenyra looked at her uncle a cold feeling began melting upon her neck. Turning, she watched as the six women dressed in their red veils and white gowns moved quietly within the royal box and sat just opposite her.
Although blocked by the veil, Rhaenyra could feel the anger emanating from Nima even with her golden crown, making her horns blend into her dress.
Rhaenyra silently gulped as she turned to inspect the other women who had arrived with her uncle, looking for any other features which would make them similar to the monster she had battled a few days prior.
Viserys stayed quiet as he watched the six women sit down with grace. He looked worriedly at his daughter before returning to his brother riding upon a terrifying horse.
The horse, completely black in fur, had red eyes and long, powerful six legs which passively stomped, moving mud and gravel from the Tourney's floor.
Amon sat atop the horse, wearing a mixture of black, red and golden armour, although his sword was not upon him, but missing, making the armour seem incomplete.
Then came the rumbling. Lords and ladies looked around as they felt the floor beneath them rumbling like a mountain decided to collapse.
Then came a sudden darkening as a dragon's head, larger than any they could have ever seen, reared near the exit of the tourney.
The sheer size of it drew the stands as screams came from gathered lords and ladies, with most falling upon one another trying to get away.
Balerion, feeling Amon's feelings, reared his head, his long obsidian-like scales glisening in the sun as his maw opened and an eruption of black and red fire engulfed the blue sky.
The already darkened sky from the mountain of flesh turned as black as night as a deep-pitched roar emanated from the dragon.
Many looked shocked and overwhelmed as the dragon halted its onslaught of fire and lowered its head.
Rickkon looked enthralled, ignoring his crying son and startled wife as he watched the dragon move its head closer to Amon, making Amon pat its snout.
The Martells, although not as shocked by the display as the Lannisters and Barratheons, who both ran from their respective boxes, watched in calculating looks as Amon gave Balerion a loving pat.
Balerion, having received his nose pat and scaring all those who seemed too eager to meet Amon, gave a satisfying hiss as he removed his head from the arena and slid away, becoming nothing but a small living hill as he returned to the dragon pit.
Alicent looked shocked at the raw display of dragon might. She turned to her husband, only to see Viserys looking distant.
"husband are you okay?"
Alicent asked hurriedly as Viserys looked as if he had become a simpleton.
Unbeknownst to any other than Viserys and the lords all those many years ago, Viserys was reliving his younger years.
- 96 AC -
"Viserys!"
"Viserys!"
Roars came from the crowd as they watched Prince Viserys knock a knight from his horse.
"SWORD!"
The knight yelled as Viserys came to the end of the track and turned. From the corner of the arena, a young-looking Daemon came running with a sword, throwing it to his brother.
"Kill him, brother!"
Daemon looked like a blood fiend as Viserys caught the sword and dismounted to attack the knight.
Both parties ran towards one another, swords in hand, as Viserys cut low only to take the knight's sword to his shoulder.
Steel against steel, sparks flew freely as Viserys emitted a guttural roar as pain spiked throughout his shoulder.
His blade, however, was successful as it pushed the knight's leg forward, making him fall to the muddy floor.
"Do you yield!"
Viserys yelled as he grappled atop the knight's armour, blade aimed near the knight's neck as he began pushing it downwards.
"Stop!"
An elderly voice from the cheering stands shouted, causing the stands to become silent.
Sitting atop the king's seat was Jaehaerys Targaryen; he looked both regal and ancient as he held a hand up.
Viserys, seeing his grandfather's command, stood, removing his knee from the knight's chestplate and standing.
The knight, disgruntled, stood, his armour blackened and muddy, looking angrily before lowering his head.
"Knight of House Strong, do you yield?"
The king asked as the knight removed his helmet, revealing it to be a young-looking Lyonel Strong.
"Yes, your majesty!" Lyonel lowered his head, his lush, long black hair flowing downwards as he bowed.
"Very well... Next contenders!"
King Jaehaerys, pleased with the outcome, shouted for the next contenders as servants hurriedly removed the horses and prepared for the next joust.
"Please welcome Prince Amon Targaryen, Second in line to the Iron Throne, Rider of the Black Dread Balerion!"
A black horse with the Targaryen sigil came running from the entrance as an armoured figure wearing black and red coloured armour with a lance lapped around the Tourney arena as the crowds cheered.
Then came rumbling as Balerion reared its head. Screams came from the gathered lords as the dragon moved towards its rider, making Amon pat its snout before it looked towards the sky and let out a strong roar which shook the very air as from its maw black and red fire engulfed the sky.
King Jaehaeys looked at this show of power with a quiet look of disappointment as Prince Baelon cheered for his eldest son.
"Crush him, Amon!"
Prince Baelon had a tremendous smile on his face as he looked to his right to see his wife, to see her not there.
That dampened his smile before he returned to the present and stood cheering for his eldest.
A young Amon stood atop his horse, moving around the arena as he came to a halt before the king's box.
Sat near the edge and closest to the battle was Rhaenys, along with Aemma Arryn.
"To whom would give me their favour?"
Amon moved his lance towards his aunt Rhaenys, only to receive a slight twist of her head as she motioned towards Aemma.
"Cousin?"
Amon, called Aemma, who looked flustered before giving the laurel wreath and letting it fall upon Amon's lance.
Although at this point she was married to his brother, it didn't hurt to make others jealous of her beauty.
Viserys at the sidelines watched as his brother took the wreath from his own fiancée and rode. Something deep within his twisted with it.
Daemon then appeared behind Viserys.
"ooooo, seems like Amon might marry Aemma, not you."
Viserys spun to punch Daemon, only to see his younger brother holding a shield, causing his hand to slam unprotected against the metal and wood.
Viserys shouted in anger and pain as he went to grab Daemon, only to see him running.
"Daemon, you bastard, get back here!"
Viserys went into a sprint to catch his brother.
- Present Time -
"Sorry, Alicent... I was daydreaming"
Viserys quickly replied to the worried Alicent as his eyes returned to Amo,n finishing his lap beneath the king's box and highering his lance.
"To whom would give me their favour?"
Amon asked as his lance wavered between his wives and Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra sat quietly, neither wanting another fight with her supposed aunts nor wanting to anger her father.
Maera sat closest to the table with the wreath, moved and placed it atop Amon's lance as a cheer of both frightened and questioning remarks emanated from the crowds.
"Who she?"
"Is that Prince Amon's wife?"
"Who are they?"
Amon looked at Maera than his other wives, before blowing a kiss, his gauntlet lightly hitting his masked face, before he whacked his lead rope, making the six-legged horse begin moving.
"Entering now is Princ... Is this correct? Prince... Daemon Targaryen!"
Silence enveloped the crowd as all eyes focused upon the entrance where a black four-legged dragon-armoured horse and rider emerged.
Daemon rode out into silence as the gathered crowd showed little to no emotion as Daemon reared his horse towards the king's box.
[1] There are no names for the Tyrells at this point, and the lore + wiki has them unnamed.