[Day 0] The Blackbriar contingent

Ser Balon rode atop his grey courser Ghaston. His golden armor had been polished to a high sheen and it seemed to glow in the sunlight. He held his long horned helm in the crook of his arm so he could let the breeze blow through his hair. Balon's thoughts had been elsewhere when his father asked him about the woman at Horn Hill.

Realizing he was being spoken to Balon snapped back to the present, "Ah yes. She would be a pleasant sight father. I hope she'd like my lance prowess as much as my ability with a sword." A slight smile formed at the corner of his lips. There were no women present to hear his off color remark and it was nice to jest with his father. Balon made no attempt to look at the Septon for if he caught the innuendo he'd have something to say about it.

"Father, it's Highgarden I believe there will be a great many women there." The thought pleased Balon. So many young women to look at and a tournament to boot. What more could a young knight ask for? Lady Ellyn Levalle was rumored to be quite comely. Maybe she'd be there. Laena Pyre was also attractive but she had been sullied in Balon's opinion. Not by her being a widow with children but her association with the Starkwoods. 

Balon heard his mother's voice from behind, "What upsets mother today?"

Balon rolled his eyes as his father referenced his manhood. If there was one thing a son never wanted to hear (regardless of age) was his father talking about his genitals. "Yes father," Balon added playfully, "all people through the Reach know about your prowess I'm sure." Riding with his father was something he'd missed. He'd spent the better part of a decade away from Gyldenhaal and conversations like this flooded his mind with happy childhood memories. And just like when he was a child they were heading towards a tournament.

"I will tread carefully father. I treat each lady as if she was the Maid herself." It was a lie of course. Balon had laid with several women in his day but that was then and now he was looking for a bride. Doing well at Highgarden would add to his tourney resume but it'd take more than that to secure a bride (and potential alliance for House Blackbriar). Of course if some lady felt like appreciating his skill in person, well it'd be impolite to say no. Plus he'd be able to ask for forgiveness at the sept the following morning. 

Balon couldn't help but laugh at Donnel's joke about speaking with Shiera. She was ever persistent in her disdain for Lord Blackbriar but Balon felt she had the best interests of her husband and children at heart. At least that's what Balon told himself. 

Septon Abelar rides on Ser Donnel's right, his white robes flapping softly against the flanks of his roan palfrey. He sits perched in his saddle as though it is he, and not the horse, that feels the spur. Such is his way. He has allowed much of the conversation to pass between Ser Donnel and Ser Balon without remark, but he snaps his head around at Ser Balon's thinly veiled allusion to his "lance." His eyes narrow.

"To make a jape of your vows is to break them, Ser Balon. A true knight has no single woman in mind, save the Mother, the Maid, and the Crone. You are charged to protect all women, not lust after them." He worries the fraying ends of his braided belt with one hand, a sure sign of agitation. "You can leave the selection of your wife to your father and I. At least, until you can show us that your passions have not overmaster'd you. It would bring the house much dishonor if you were to become promised to some unworthy, licentious harlot! And if you're wondering how to spot one of those, you can find her by her talk of 'lances!'"

At that, he turns to Ser Donnel, allowing him to offer his own flavor of counsel. Abelar nods along approvingly when Donnel speaks of not falling for a buxom lass, but when Donnel speaks of his "endowment," the septon's face curls into a disgusted sneer and he rolls his eyes. Addressing the older knight, Abelar raises his voice slightly. "The road has befouled your tongue just as much as your boots. What would Lord Tyrell say if he heard you?" Perhaps realizing that Lord Tyrell is not the best example to offer, Abelar quickly re-frames. "What would Lord Jon say if you presented this dreck at Highgarden? No, we must do better. Prayer. Prayer and penance. Always remember, we are first in piety. Faith is our shield, purity our sword. Only a righteous man can sit a champion's seat at a tournament. Always remember that." His voice is low and intense. It would not do for the scouts to overhear this dressing down.

He takes a deep breath to continue, but instead falls into silence and lets his words hang in the air.

Ser Balon was about to tell his father about his recent success in several tournaments when the septon interrupted to lecture the two knights on the meaning of vows and fidelity. Balon rode in silence, debating on whether to argue with Abelar. Seeing Donnel offer contrition to the septon, Balon followed suit, "When we arrive at Highgarden I will go to the sept and pray to the Seven for forgiveness." Balon swallowed his pride and added, "Thank you for your counsel septon. I will represent our house with honor and value your opinion on any marital matters." Balon thought to himself, I can't have a wife that's too prim and proper though.

Turning back to his father he agreed, "Yes father, our focus should be the tournament and paying our respect to the lords of the Reach. You've ridden these lands for a long time, who are you most excited to see? I hope Daemon Blackfyre attends. I hear he is Aegon reborn!"

Balon's smile faded when Donnel disparaged Daemon. The way Ser Quentyn and Lord Gormon (and a great many others) spoke of Daemon would make him seem invincible. If not on horse, definitely on foot. "Careful father. A bastard he may be but he was legitimized by the king before his death. We should be wise not to speak ill of him." The irony of Balon's statement was he'd spoken ill of the current king's children. That Dornish blood had tainted them. In Balon's eyes it made them outsiders and insulted the proper men of the Seven Kingdoms who'd bled, or had family bleed, in the sands of Dorne. "I'm sure if there's a rematch at Highgarden lord Daemon would be one of, if not thee, favorite."

Balon pulled away from his father as he rubbed his head and playfully batted his hand away, "I'm not a child father," he laughed, "are you going to do that before I joust?"

Abelar's shoulders slowly unwind as Ser Donnel takes responsibility for the unfortunate turn in conversation. Ser Donnel remains a good knight--dutiful, steady, and humble. Still, his inartful remarks are a good reminder that even the purest among men can find themselves drawn to sin. Words may be wind, but enough wind can buffet even the staunchest flame. Young men like Ser Balon are easily swayed by the praise and flattery of renowned knights, and doubly so if the knight happens to be the young man's father. Ser Donnel must be careful not to encourage lasciviousness or vainglory, lest Ser Balon's candle flicker toward the wrong direction. That way lies a different kind of flame. Seven kinds, according to The Seven-Pointed Star.

Returning to the conversation regarding Daemon Blackfyre, the septon with the silver-black hair speaks in a powerful baritone. "They say Ser Daemon fights like the Warrior himself. However, we cannot forget that he was born of lust and sin, as were all the royal bastards. He must needs prove himself beyond mastering a sword--even if it is that sword. Remember, King Maegor the Cruel wielded Blackfyre, as did Aegon the Unworthy. Virtue cannot be grasped like a leather-wrapped hilt. And it is the virtuous who shall prevail in the lists." After his righteous preamble, the septon continues in a less religious vein. "I personally favor Prince Baelor or Ser Robb Reyne as champion. The Prince of Dragonstone has proven himself once against Blackfyre, and I expect Lord Tyrell to be preoccupied with his duties as host to focus on his lance work. Besides, it's unseemly to win one's own tournament."

Turning to Ser Balon, he offers some counsel. "You are no squire, Ser Balon, but there is much to learn from the finest knights of the realm, who will present themselves at the tourney. If you prove yourself in the lists and keep your courtesies about you, you could find yourself friends or mentors among them. I consider Aerion Baratheon, Robb Reyne, Aubrey Ambrose, both Roland and Garth Redwyne, Roland Cordwayner, Robb Reyne, and Quentyn Ball to be foremost in chivalry. You would bring honor to yourself and our house by earning their respect."

Talk of marriage would have brought the attention of Lady Shiera has she heard of it, some random lady in waiting would not do in her opinion, one that she had raised more than once just to be sure that everyone was quite aware of it. She had spoke of Lady Tanda Peake, a prospect that no doubt would face opposition from the lady Erena urging her husband not to approve of the match, such an arrangement would bring cousins of hers from Starpike. Though she did concede that "Gormy" was very likely to seek alliances with houses of considerably higher prestige, Ser Balon could be the best warrior to ever have lived and Lord Gormon would still chose Ser Willas Tyrell if he could. Lady Shiera has other options in mind, of course, houses known to be sympathetic to the Blackfyres for the most part, and a few female heirs, of those she had considerable enthusiasm for, Ladies Daena Roxton and Lysette Starling in particular, though Lady Delia Hewett could also do, if less prestigious. The Lady Gwynesse Grimm, a harridan that had refused half a dozen suggestions by Lord Tyrell, fine knights all, she had dismissed outright. That woman would marry a Dornish Bastard if that meant she could hoard all the power for herself, luckily, Lord Tyrell would not allow it.