King's Landing – Tourney Grounds
The shock of Pierce defeating Jaime had barely settled when another highly anticipated match reached its conclusion.
Yohn Royce of the Vale—the grizzled, stubborn, and battle-hardened "Bronze Yohn"—managed to knock the monstrous "Mountain" Gregor Clegane clean off his horse after a brutal fight.
After that, both Pierce and Yohn Royce defeated their remaining opponents, setting up the grand final between the two of them.
By late afternoon, the stands were electric once again. On one side was the wealthy lord who had stormed through the lists like a dark horse, using cutting-edge armor, raw power, and incredible toughness. On the other was the veteran noble with deep experience and proven skill, fresh off defeating the terrifying giant.
The final began.
Yohn Royce's style was completely different from Jaime's lightning-fast precision. It was heavy, solid, and carried the trademark stubborn endurance of the Vale knights. Every charge felt like a bronze hammer swinging with crushing force.
Pierce didn't dare relax for a second. He knew that against someone like Bronze Yohn, any gap in technique or experience could be fatal. He had to use every advantage he possessed.
The first four passes were brutally close.
Yohn's experience let him find good angles for attack again and again, while Pierce's armor and defensive technique kept neutralizing the threats.
Lances shattered repeatedly. The crashes echoed across the entire field.
Pierce felt like every bone in his body was screaming. His left shoulder burned with fresh pain. Yohn wasn't much better—his breathing had turned ragged and his shield arm was visibly shaking.
The fifth and final pass decided everything.
Both men were near their limit. Sweat soaked their padding, muscles screamed. Yohn's eyes remained hard as stone. He spotted a tiny opening in Pierce's breathing rhythm and unleashed everything he had, driving his lance straight at the center of Pierce's chest plate in a raw test of strength.
But Pierce had been waiting for exactly that moment.
The instant Yohn committed to the all-out strike, Pierce noticed the slight delay in his shield defense. Instead of meeting force with force, he shifted his horse slightly to the side and flicked his lance upward in a perfect, deadly arc—not at the shield, but straight into the weak seam where Yohn's chest and waist plates met.
CLANG!
The sound was heavy and piercing.
Pierce's lance tip slammed into the gap with terrifying force. It didn't penetrate, but the concentrated impact completely destroyed Yohn's balance.
"Ugh!"
Bronze Yohn let out a deep grunt. His massive body rocked backward. Despite his best efforts, exhaustion and the sudden shift in weight betrayed him.
In front of the entire crowd, the powerful lord of Runestone toppled like a felled oak and crashed heavily to the ground.
Pierce Celtigar had won the jousting championship of the tourney!
After a brief stunned silence, the stands erupted in thunderous cheers.
No matter how people had viewed the "upstart" before, he had just proven himself with undeniable skill and sheer willpower. A man who wasn't even a true knight had defeated both Jaime Lannister and Yohn Royce—two of the greatest warriors in the realm. It was the stuff of legends.
Then came the most anticipated moment—the champion crowning the Queen of Love and Beauty.
Pierce lifted the delicate crown woven from purple roses and golden-silver thread on the tip of his lance. He rode slowly toward the stands.
His eyes first met Cersei's—hot, complicated, and burning. He gave her the tiniest smirk and a quick wink. Her heart jumped and her cheeks flushed as she instinctively straightened, almost expectant.
But she quickly realized he couldn't crown her—she was a married queen.
Sure enough, Pierce's gaze moved on. He guided his horse toward the noble section and stopped in front of a particular seat.
There sat a shy but bright-eyed little girl—Princess Shireen Baratheon—flanked by her stern father, Prince Stannis, and Lady Selyse.
Stannis had finally brought his family to King's Landing after hearing about Pierce's impressive performance, partly out of respect for their betrothal and partly for political appearances.
Pierce bowed slightly from horseback, his smile warm and sincere. He offered the crown of supreme honor to Shireen.
"With this crown, I honor my betrothed, Princess Shireen Baratheon. May you always shine as pure and radiant as these purple roses."
Shireen's small face lit up with pure joy and disbelief.
She glanced at her father, who gave a small, approving nod. Then she carefully took the beautiful crown with both hands. A radiant smile broke across her face, and even her greyscale seemed to fade a little in that moment.
Lady Selyse's usually tight expression softened with visible relief.
Everyone understood the message. This wasn't just affection for his fiancée—it was a bold public declaration of his unbreakable alliance with House Baratheon of Dragonstone.
Cersei, after a flash of surprise and a tiny sting of disappointment, quickly regained her queenly composure. She was past that age, after all… though a trace of dissatisfaction still lingered in her heart.
...
...
Red Keep – King's Solar
Not long after the tourney ended, Pierce was summoned for a private audience with King Robert.
In the solar, Robert had cleared the room. His massive body sank into the oversized chair, wearing an almost sheepish grin.
"Pierce, my champion! Well done! Hahaha!" Robert laughed loudly, then lowered his voice. "There's something I've been thinking about for a long time, but Jon always shuts it down because the treasury's empty. I figure you're the only man in King's Landing with both the coin and the balls to make it happen."
"Your Grace, I'm listening."
Robert gestured broadly. "Look at that tourney field. Every time we have to build everything from scratch—it's a damn mess. I want a permanent, grand arena there so everyone can actually see the action. You fund it, and in return, you get to charge admission for future tourneys."
He rubbed his hands together, clearly a little embarrassed about asking.
Pierce didn't hesitate. "It would be my honor to ease Your Grace's burdens. Actually, I've had some ideas for a proper circular arena for quite some time. It wouldn't just be for jousts. We could rent it to freeriders for practice matches or smaller events. We could even host performances like the 'Tomorrow's Star' contests. In the future… operas, theatrical plays…"
He briefly outlined the concept of a modern multi-purpose stadium and entertainment venue.
Robert's eyes lit up. He didn't understand all the details, but the idea of solving his image problem while making the city more exciting was perfect. "Good! Excellent! Make it happen! Work out the details with Jon—I'll tell him to give you full support!"
...
...
Red Keep – Tower of the Hand
The meeting with Jon Arryn went surprisingly smoothly. Though the old Hand was deeply frustrated by Robert's spending habits, Pierce's proposal to fund the entire project himself—while promising a share of future revenues to the crown—solved the immediate problem and offered long-term benefits for King's Landing.
After witnessing Pierce's capability and sincerity, Jon quickly signed the formal agreement.
Once business was concluded, the Hand's expression softened. "Lord Celtigar, congratulations on your victory. If you have no other plans tonight, Lady Lysa and I would like to invite you to dinner in the Red Keep to celebrate."
Pierce politely declined. "Thank you for the kind offer, Lord Hand. But I've already promised Prince Stannis that I would dine with his family tonight. As you know, I am betrothed to Princess Shireen."
Jon nodded in understanding and didn't press the matter.
...
...
Red Keep – Corridor
As Pierce left the Tower of the Hand and headed back toward his quarters, a figure stepped out from behind a column in a quiet hallway, blocking his path.
It was Cersei Baratheon.
She had dismissed her attendants. No one else was around.
She wore that familiar mocking, dangerous smile, but her voice was cold as ice. "Our great champion. Where are you rushing off to now? To see your little fiancée?"
Pierce didn't retreat. Instead he stepped forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close until their bodies nearly touched. The dimly lit corridor instantly turned thick with tension and forbidden heat.
"Cersei," Pierce's voice was low and seductive, "if you're willing to give up that queen's crown and everything that comes with it…" He gestured at the grand Red Keep around them. "I can arrange it. One month from now, King's Landing will hear that the queen passed away from illness. The month after that, Golden Port will host a magnificent wedding. The groom will be me. The bride will be a wealthy merchant's daughter from Braavos with close ties to the Sea Lord's family… No one will ever know who she truly is."
His words were like a demon's whisper, dripping with temptation.
For one brief, dangerous moment, the vision of escaping Robert, leaving the deadly game of King's Landing, and living in wealth and freedom in a new place actually made Cersei's heart flutter. Braavos… a Sea Lord connection… a grand wedding…
But only for a moment.
Power was in her blood now. She shoved him away—though not very hard. "You're mad! How could I ever give this up?!" Her eyes flashed with greed and a trace of fear. "I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Pierce released her with a knowing smile. "Then stop speaking to me in that bitter, jealous tone, my queen. Be patient. Once the Dragonpit is finished, we'll have plenty of opportunities to… 'accidentally' meet during performances and have some very deep conversations."
His hands wandered boldly over her body, taking full advantage, until Cersei—flushed and furious—pushed him away and straightened her slightly disheveled gown.
Only then did Pierce chuckle softly and walk away.
...
...
Red Keep – Main Gate
Just as Pierce was about to exit the Red Keep, he ran straight into Jaime and Tyrion Lannister.
Tyrion greeted him warmly the moment he saw him. "Hey! Our champion! I hear the king summoned you again?"
Over the past few days, Pierce's easygoing attitude and generous hospitality—especially the steady supply of Braavosi girls—had built a solid rapport between him and Tyrion.
Pierce smiled back. "Just some small matters about His Grace wanting a new permanent tourney arena. I was finalizing the agreement with Lord Jon Arryn."
His gaze shifted to Jaime, whose face was thunderous and whose right arm was still in a splint. Pierce spoke in a deliberately light tone. "When I was leaving, I happened to run into Her Grace the Queen. She seemed in good spirits and even asked about my injuries. The queen really is as beautiful as she is kind."
To Jaime, the words were pure venom. His handsome face twisted with rage. His left hand instinctively dropped to his sword hilt, eyes practically spitting fire.
"You—!"
Tyrion quickly jumped in, sensing the danger. "Alright, alright, Jaime. Tourney results are tourney results. Lord Pierce won fair and square. We're all friends here, no need to—"
"Who the hell is friends with him?!" Jaime snarled through gritted teeth, glaring at Pierce like he wanted to tear him apart.
Pierce simply shrugged, unconcerned. He smiled at Tyrion. "Looks like Ser Jaime still needs some time to accept defeat. I'll take my leave. Tyrion, drinks sometime soon."
With that, he walked out of the Red Keep without another glance at Jaime's murderous stare.
He knew his feud with the Lannisters—especially with Jaime—was far from over.
Tyrion watched Pierce's retreating back, then looked at his seething older brother, and let out a small sigh. The game in King's Landing was getting more interesting… and far more dangerous.