(124-10-01) The Harvest Tourney
The Harvest Tourney
Summary: The Harvest Tourney.
Date: 10/1/17
Related: None

It was a chilly sort of morning, with a touch of frost to the grass, but the sky is clear and the sun is starting to warm the people in the stands and has already burned the frozen dew away. Pennants are flying, the jousting has been good. The elder Tyrell is in fine snarky form, and has at last learned to tell Ser Loryn from his brother. The Elder Hightower's nose and cheeks are read, perhaps from the brisk breeze off the bay, perhaps from whatever is in his cup and is bickering happily with his old rival about fine points of form. An elder Fossoway has joined them well muffled under blankets, but looking much recovered from the illness that delayed his departure from Oldtown. Now it is down to Ser Loryn Tyrell an Ser Malcolm Storm in the final.

Ser Malcolm is out in his bastard colours, his new armour's black paint and cerulean pointings fresh. No longer is he wearing patched second or third hand metal in an old fashioned style, but plain and sturdy modern make. As usual, he wears the favour of some lucky Smallfolk Grandmother who's family cheer the louder or it.

After the day out at the harvest festival Loryn has risen early again for the tourney. This time his whole family is watching and true to his promise, he's wearing a new favour on his arm, strewn with golden roses as well as another flower of deep orange hue - a marigold. It seems to have served him well, for the young Tyrell has ridden well and is now readying for the finale.

The Rose of Seven Petals, as the smallfolk have taken to calling the religious Lady Miranda Tyrell, sits high in the nobles box alongside the Royals come to watch. On her lap is their newborn daughter, the lady Marigold. Too young to know what is happening, the baby rests in her mother's arms and watches, wide eyed.

The trumpeters announce the final contest. Motley wickers and tosses his head for the crowd. Malcolm lowers his visor and his mount pounds down the lists. His lance just touches the Tyrell's shield.

Loryn is eager to ride once again against Malcolm, his friend in life and arch enemy in the lists. And he keeps his aim focused, managing to hit the older man's shield but not with enough force to topple him.

Miranda is pleased that they both show admirably. "The Warrior favors them both so much! Bravo, Sers! Even if," she says to her company, "I pray my knight is the victor."

Malcolm gives his friends a salute after the turn. In jousting armour it is hard to tell if that really is amusement in his body language, though something in the set of his body and the way he is riding suggests he is enjoying being so well matched. Again Motley's hooves pound and again his touches the shield sigyl.

Loryn always has time to look towards the noble seating area to blow a kiss to Miranda and Marigold. Even if his second round is not quite as strong as the first. He focuses on getting it right next time…

Marigold burbles as Miranda holds her up to blow kisses back. The ladies in the high box all titter over the equal footing. In the stands, betting flies fast and furious now over which knight will eck out the victory. Each pass brings a louder and louder cheer.

Malcolm salutes the Smallfolk stands, then pounds one last time down the lists with not much to show for it except a clever little side step by his horse that lets him dodge the oncoming lance.

Loryn tries to do his best to impress his daughter who's watching for the first time, but it is not enough today when Ser Malcolm outsmarts him with a clever trick. Gracious in his defeat, Loryn guides his horse towards Malcolm's to offer a hand in congratulations.

Miranda cheers for Malcolm and his victory, pleased as well as Loryn has done. Cheers and bets erupt from the smallfolk, for their champion has bested the nobleman again!

Malcolm shakes Ser Loryn's hand, visor up and grinning, "It was a good contest."

The judges confer quickly and soon announce a win for the bastard of Kellington on points. Purses are distributed and Ser Malcolm wins a fine nut and leaf designed brooch. Ser Malcolm offers it to Ser Loryn, "A belated gift on the occasion of your recent happiness.

Loryn looks touched by the gesture and accepts it with a grateful nod. "Thank you, that's very kind of you…", he smiles and looks up briefly to wife and daughter to indicate who the final recipient will likely be. But he turns to Malcolm again first: "Are you sure you don't have a lady friend who'd appreciate this?"

Malcolm smiles a little sadly, dropping his voice so as not to carry, "I'm a bastard knight of a minor house. I'd not want to… accidentally damage a Lady's reputation. It is better this way."

Miranda keens her head as the two confer. She doesn't seem to mind either way. Marigold is bounced on her knee happily; she'll be a hands on noble mother knowing her.

Loryn opens his mouth to point that he didn't necessarily mean a lady lady of noble birth, but realizes that they are keeping everyone waiting. So he just nods with a smile. "Well, thank you, it is much appreciated." He nudges his horse to trot to the stands, where he can gesture for Miranda to come down to be within his reach.

The brooch is fine worked gold. Malcolm seems content enough to see his friend happy. He himself is no Maiden's Knight in his black armour, but he is upright enough in his own way.

With baby at her side, carried in her arms, she moves down to greet her husband. E girl is held up for him to kiss first and foremost, because aww baby. She quietly mutters, "I'm glad he won. The Harvest is for the smallfolk, after all. Let their knight be their Victor," she says with a smile.

Loryn knows how to play the masses, too and takes the baby into his hands to kiss her and lift her up. "You are right.", he murmurs to Miranda, when he leans in close to hand the baby back. Then he hands her the pretty brooch: "It's a gift from Ser Malcolm… keep it safe for our girl, it will be a memory of her first tourney later… "

Malcolm bows as much as he can in the stiff jousting armour and salutes mother and child with his lance.

Miranda raises a hand back in greeting and calls as loudly as she can, "Warrior bless and keep you! That was well ridden!" She smiles sincerely before turning back to kiss Loryn's cheek and take baby back.

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