The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 14: First Day of the Tournament

Aerys Targaryen could not stop the smile that appeared on his face as he stood along the side of Casterly Rock's training yard, watching his daughter’s performance.  

Early that morning as he broke his fast with his children, Aerea informed him that Tywin's son had invited her to the yard for a spar, wanting to see how their skills have grown over the years.  

Both Aerys and Rhaegar had decided to go, the former to see his daughter beat the son of Tywin Lannister and the latter to make sure that his sister did not get hurt.  

Of course, news of the royal family heading to the training yard with the princess intending to spar with the son and heir of Tywin Lannister, had spread, causing the yard to quickly fill with people, all to catch sight of the display.  

But Aerea’s first opponent was not Jaime, but rather Andar Royce, the eldest son and heir of Yohn Royce, otherwise known as the Bronze Yohn, Lord of Runestone.  

The boy was two years older than Aerea and was a few inches taller. He had a smug look on his face when he and his group of friends, all sons of Valemen lords, approached Aerea and Jaime, asking the girl if she wished to evaluate her skills against him.  

Andar’s friends laughed crudely behind him when he asked this question, his intention was clear to everyone who witnessed it; he had heard about Aerea being allowed to train by her Kingly father, that she was being taught by the famous Barristan the Bold, and wanted to embarrass the Abomination Princess in the presence of the growing crowd.  

He, like some others, had thought that that she could not have been as skilled as rumors said she was, that it was nothing more than people inflating her abilities to gain favor with the King due to Aerys’ favoritism amongst his children.  

Aerys felt an intense rage within him at this, desiring nothing more than to demand one of his Kingsguard to take the tongues of each boy, but he did not have the chance to as his daughter accepted the duel, moving to the center of the yard as she and Andar prepared to use real steel.  

The fight, if one could call it that, did not last long, Aerea only needed three quick and decisive strikes to knock the sword from Andar’s hands and throw Andar to the ground.  

The yard was silent, everyone staring at Aerea in shock, but this silence was shattered by the sound of Robert Baratheon’s rowdy cackling.  

This caused others to either clap in congratulations for the princess or to follow Robert’s example of laughing at the heir to Runestone.  

Aerea sheathed her blade and walked over to the fallen boy, holding her hand out to him to pull Andar to his feet. Andar’s face turned red from the embarrassment of it, but he took Aerea’s hand, mumbling something under his breath to her before he quickly moved to retrieve his sword and going to sidelines where his friends stood, staring at the princess uneasily.  

But Aerea did not have time to question this as Jaime immediately ran to the center of the yard once Andar left, not wanting to give anyone else the chance to interrupt them again and challenge Aerea before he had the opportunity to.  

As the spar was about to start, The Lord of Casterly Rock along with his wife and daughter appeared, the crowd parting, allowing the three to make their way to the front and standing beside the King and Crown Prince.  

“Tywin.” Aerys said, smirking at the man, “Have you come to watch?”  

Tywin looked at Aerys from the corner of his eye, “I have.”  

Aerys continued to smirk as he turned his head back in the direction of their children, watching as the pair had drawn their swords and were now waiting for the signal to start.  

Once it was given, neither child wasted time as they charged, crossing the distance between them, their swords meeting with a loud clash. The two pushed their blades against each other, but with a heavy shove, Aerea knocked Jaime back a few steps, leading Jaime to jump to the side to avoid the downward swing of Aerea’s sword.  

Aerea did not relent, chasing after Jaime, and causing him to remain on the defensive. Jaime gritted his teeth as he deflected each of Aerea’s blows, knowing that if this continued then he would inevitably lose.  

Jaime gracefully sidestepped Aerea, and once she flew past him, lifted his foot, and kicked Aerea in the back, causing her to stumble.  

Again?! Aerea thought to herself, remembering one of her spars with Rhaegar where her brother used a similar maneuver, as she managed to steady herself. She and Jaime started to circle each other, waiting for the other to make the next move.  

Jaime had improved greatly in the last four years, showing Aerea that her taller stature and experience would not give her that much of an advantage over him.  

Aerys pursed his lips, “Your son is quite skilled, Tywin.”  

“Thank you, Your Grace. I am proud of how far Jaime has come; I have heard from his instructors how he constantly improves each day.” Tywin said, a small smile appearing on his lips as he watched the fight.  

He is better than Aerea, at least fundamentally. Rhaegar thought to himself.  

He had never seen anyone wield a blade as fluidly as Jaime Lannister was, the only other exception being Gerold Hightower.  

It was clear to Rhaegar that Jaime was one of the rare true prodigies of the sword, in comparison to his sister who had gotten to where she currently was through hard work and determination.  

Don’t lose, Aerea. Rhaegar thought, looking Aerys from the corner of his eye. Aerys did not like it when Aerea lost in general, so if she not only lost, but lost to the son of Tywin Lannister, Rhaegar knew their father’s reaction would not be a kind one.  

Calm down, relax. Do not become flustered; your opponent will only use that against you. Remember your fundamentals and keep your eye on your opponent, never lose sight of them.   

These were the words that Barristan would always tell her and Aerea could almost hear his voice as she remembered. Aerea took a deep breath, raised her sword higher and dug her heels into the ground, calmly waiting.  

Jaime watched as Aerea stopped moving, staring at him as she held her sword up defensively. Not wasting time, Jaime pushed forward, rushing toward the princess intently.   

Jaime swung his sword down in a diagonal slash, aiming for the lower part of Aerea’s blade, intending to knock it out of her hands. Aerea met the strike head on, not budging from the weight of the blow, nor as Jaime tried to push her back.  

What? This is different, she’s fighting differently now. Jaime thought as he looked up into Aerea’s eyes, seeing an intensity in the older girl’s gaze that he had never seen before, especially not from Aerea.  

Jaime moved back a step and tried to slash at the princess again, but Aerea took this opportunity to move forward, swinging her sword upwards and knocking the sword out of his hands, and before he knew it, Aerea was pressing the tip of her sword against his neck.  

“Yield.” Aerea said lowly.  

“I-I yield.” Jaime declared, now staring at Aerea wide eyed.  

Aerea lowered her sword, sheathing it before holding her hand out to Jaime, “Good fight, Jaime.”  

Jaime lifted his hand and shook Aerea’s outstretched one, “Good fight, Aerea.”  

The crowd clapped, cheering for the princess’s victory and some were cheering for the defeat of the Lord Hand’s son, and the most vocal of the latter half was the King.  

Aerys laughed, turning his head to look at Tywin smugly, “It was a good match, Tywin. Don’t be too hard on the boy after this, my daughter is not an easy challenger to face.”  

“Of course, Your Grace. And you should be most proud of the princess’s abilities.” Tywin said cordially, not rising to the bait.  

Aerea and Jaime left the center of the yard, allowing others to use it. They made their way to where Robert, Ned and Stannis were standing.  

“Good job, cousin!” Robert yelled, grinning widely as he slapped his hand against Aerea’s back.  

Aerea was able to stay on her feet, but she could not deny the pain she felt on her back from the force of Robert’s palm.  

And I know that he’s not even trying to hurt me. Aerea thought to herself.  

“Thank you, Robert.” Aerea told him.  

“I can still see the look on Andar’s stupid face when you knocked his ass into the dirt, it was glorious!” Robert said with a laugh.  

Ned rolled his eyes, “I don’t think that’s the point you should be focusing on, Robert.”  

“Aw, c’mon, Ned! You can’t tell me the prat didn’t deserve it.”  

“I didn’t say that; you should be remembering how easily Aerea was able to knock Andar into the dirt.” Ned said, a smile appearing on his lips.  

Robert loudly guffawed, throwing his head back, “You’re right! That was definitely the best part!”  

“So, you know Andar and his friends?” Aerea asked, knowing that the group were all noble sons of the Vale.  

“Yes, we do, they often come to court at the Eyrie.” Ned answered, “They are not as bad as they came across today, but-”  

“But they’re cunts.” Robert finished.  

Ned looked at Robert annoyed, “That was not what I was going to say.”  

Robert scoffed, “But it’s still true. Until you kick their asses in the yard, they’ll keep acting superior to you.”  

“Then it's too bad Aerea and I are not competing in the squire’s tournament tomorrow, it would have helped in case Andar’s beating was not enough.” Jaime stated, turning his head to glare in the direction of the other boys.  

The group were standing by themselves, no longer looking smug and confident, but embarrassed and angry, their gazes occasionally falling onto Aerea, although the princess paid them no attention.  

Robert once again laughed, clapping his hand against Jaime’s back. Unlike Aerea, Jaime fell forward from the strength of the older boy, almost failing to catch himself, “That’s the spirit, Lannister.”  

How did Aerea take such a blow without moving? Jaime thought, holding onto his shoulder as he looked at Aerea. The princess was already staring at him, giving him a look of pity and commiseration.  

“There will be more challenging squires to deal with than them, especially in the melee.” Ned stated.  

“Still thinking of Brandon?” Robert asked knowingly.  

Ned looked away; he had assumed that he would be the only member of his house coming to the tournament, with the rest of House Stark and the North still feeling the offensive of the King’s actions during the last tourney the royal family attended, but Brandon had shocked him when he arrived that morning with a group of his friends, all intent on competing.  

Brandon has always been unpredictable, I’m sure that mother and father did not even realize he had come to Casterly Rock until it was too late to call him back or send anyone to retrieve him. Ned thought.  

“Brandon is here?” Aerea asked.  

“Aye, he was bored and craves excitement. And with most of the realm here what better place was there to come to.” Ned said gruffly.  

Robert grinned, “And Brandon will make the melee even better.”  

The Baratheon had crossed swords with the heir of Winterfell only once before and Brandon bested him with ease. Since then, Robert has desired a rematch, and this tournament has finally granted him the opportunity.  

Aerea placed a hand on Ned’s shoulder, “I’m sure that Brandon will not cause any problems.”  

Ned sighed, “I hope you are right, but my brother has always had too much of our family’s wolf blood. I worry that his impulsiveness and temper will come out in some way.”  

And Ned was even more worried as neither Rickard nor Lyarra were there to keep Brandon in line and keep him from speaking too loosely. So now it rested on Ned’s shoulder to try and make sure that his older brother kept his composure.

~X~

The Next Day  

“That had to hurt.” Aerea said aloud, wincing as she and everyone else watched her cousin Robert bash his war hammer against the side of an unsuspecting squire’s helm, sending them flying into the wooden barrier of the pen.  

The squire fell to the ground unconscious, and nearby squires had to reach over the barrier to lift his body out of the makeshift arena.  

The first day of the tournament was dedicated to events primarily for squires, such as archery, axe throwing, and mock battles between teams.  

Aerea, Stannis, Jaime, and Cleos were sitting at the very front of the royal viewing box, wanting to have the best view of the tourney.  

Right now, the most anticipated and dangerous event, the melee, was taking place. Because there were so many squires who signed up for the melee, all of whom were hoping to get far enough to be recognized and possibly knighted, the melee started with a large free for all where the contestants would be split into six groups and whoever was left standing at the end of the battles would move onto traditional tourney brackets. The tourney would then end with a final match between the three remaining finalists.  

“My brother has always lacked restraint, so this is the perfect sport for him.” Stannis said from Aerea’s left side, looking down at the wooden arena boredly.  

He was confident that his brother would win this fight and be one of the six finalists, just looking at Robert’s competition was more than enough for him.

“I’ve never seen some fight in a melee with a war hammer.” Jaime said from Aerea’s right side, staring at Robert dumbfounded.

Despite being the age of four and ten, Robert was one of the tallest and most muscular people in this third group, using his strength to knock people around. Even when a group of squires had the idea to gang up on the Baratheon heir, this did not deter him, and he continued to beat them down as if they were ragdolls.  

“I would hate to be any of them, Robert is brutal.” Cleos exclaimed from Jaim’s right, wincing, and subconsciously touching the side of his head when Robert found a new victim, bringing his hammer down on the unsuspecting squire’s head while his back was turned.  

Cleos had become a squire of his uncle Tygett and would be down in the tourney field the next day helping him polish his armor, holing his sword, and handing him lances during the knight’s tourney. And while he was a squire and could compete, something that his father, Emmon, wanted him to do, Cleos saw the caliber of the many squires who had come to Lannisport and immediately refused.  

I know that I will need to compete in a tourney at some point, it's my best chance of earning a knighthood. But with monsters like Robert, Brandon, Ned, Myles Mooton, Richard Lonmouth, and Jon Connington here today, someone like me would just be a pebble in their path. It's best that I wait for a smaller tourney before I try. Cleos thought to himself.  

“He’s the strongest!” Lyonel added from next to his brother, watching Robert transfixed by the way he fought. “I want to fight like him!”  

“He’s really good!” Tyrion added, the toddler was sitting on Jaime’s lap, watching Robert fight just as taken as the rest of them.  

Should they be watching something so violent? Aerea thought as she looked at Lyonel and Tyrion, wondering if boys so young should be allowed to watch a melee before remembering that she was Lyonel’s age when she first witnessed a tourney.  

“So, who do you all think will win it all? Robert? Ned? Brandon?” Jaime asked the other three.  

The first two of the free for all battles had already occurred, with Brandon and Ned being the last ones left standing of their respective groups, and with only Robert and one other squire left in the arena, it was clear who would win this third bout.  

“Robert! Robert!” Lyonel cheered and Tyrion nodded his head in agreement.

“It’s too early to tell, we have yet to see who will win the next three bouts.” Stannis said before looking at Aerea, “Do you have any thought as to who will win, cousin?”  

Aerea shook her head, “No, as you said it's too early to tell. But I believe that Jon, Myles, and Richard will be the winners of their groups.”  

“Really? Are they that skilled?” Stannis asked. He knew the three were friends of Rhaegar, with Myles and Richard being Rhaegar’s squires too, but he had never seen any of them fight.  

Aerea smiled, leaning closer to Stannis, “They are not as skilled as Arthur or even Rhaegar, but they are better than most. But they have determination to carry than further; my brother told them before we arrived that whoever had the best showing today, would be the one he would knight.”  

Aerea’s smile grew as she watched the eyes of her friends widen, their surprise in what she had said evident.  

“Prince Rhaegar is going to knight one of them?!” Cleos almost yelled, but most of his voice was drowned out by the cheering crowd.  

A young knight's repute partially derives from the honor of the man who conferred knighthood on him, so receiving your knighthood from a King, prince, Kingsguard knight, or legendary knight holds great prestige.  

This was also important as either Jon, Myles, or Richard would be the first person that the newly knighted Rhaegar would give a knighthood to. Honor could be gained or lost for the man bestowing the knighthood depending on the one they are knighting’s martial skill or the reputation they have or later forge.  

So, Rhaegar, as Crown Prince and a knight himself, would be socially tying himself to those he chooses to knight.  

Aerea would be proven right; Jon, Myles, and Richard were the last ones left standing in the remaining three battles, each one fighting their hardest to win.  

The bracket fights would be as follows; Brandon Stark against Myles Mooton, Richard Lonmouth against Robert Baratheon, and Eddard Stark against Jon Connington.  

“So,” Jaime said impatiently, “Who do you think will win now? I think Robert will take it.”  

Aerea thought about it, “I think Brandon will win.”  

“You don’t believe that one of the others will win? You said that Rhaegar promised a knighthood to his friends.” Stannis said, surprised by Aerea’s choice.  

“I did, but Brandon has this, I don’t know, wildness? Recklessness? Something that I think will allow him to clench victory.”  

Stannis nodded his head thoughtfully, “Perhaps you are right. Unpredictability can be advantageous.”  

Jaime looked at Stannis exasperated, “I think you’re taking this more seriously than it needs to be, Stannis.”  

Aerea then looked towards Cleos, “Who do you think will win, Cleos?”  

Cleos gulped, “I think Ned might win. Only him and Richard have not only tried to use brute force to fight, and my Uncle Tygett has told me how important it is to maintain discipline.”  

Tygett had stressed that maintaining discipline and remembering the fundamentals was important, especially for someone like Cleos who was not naturally gifted.  

Before the group could continue their conversation, a voice called out, “Jaime!”  

The group turned around and saw a rangy boy with shoulder length dark copper hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. He was walking towards them, walking ahead of three beautiful young Dornish women.  

“Addam!” Jaime exclaimed before looking at one of the girls behind him. This caused Jaime to quickly jump to his feet, still holding Tyrion in his arms, “Princess Elia.”  

The older of the three girls smiled at Jaime, “You can call me Elia, Jaime. We are betrothed after all, titles between us are not needed.”  

“Yes, of course, Pr-Elia.” Jaime corrected himself before turning to the others, “Allow me to introduce you to Princess Aerea Targaryen and her cousin, Stannis Baratheon.”  

Addam bowed, “Good morrow, Your Grace, my lord. I am Addam Marbrand, heir of Ashemark and a page of Casterly Rock.”  

Elia curtseyed, the two girls behind her following suit, “It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace, my lord. I am Elia Martell, and these are my friends and ladies in waiting; Ashara and Allyria Dayne of Starfall.”  

The first thing Aerea took note of was how beautiful the three noble girls were. Elia was small and slender, Aerea herself was almost taller despite their age difference, her eyes were like dark and creamy pools, her wavy dark brown hair bounced effortlessly, going well with her warm complexion.  

Ashara had the most haunting violet eyes Aerea had ever seen, a much brighter shade of purple than her brother, Arthur. Her long dark hair tumbled down her shoulders, drawing attention to her tall body, fair skin, and full lips.  

Allyria had an almost similar appearance to her older sister, expect instead of purple eyes, Allyria’s were a deep blue, reminding Aerea of the water on the horizon of the Sunset Sea. And unlike Ashara’s smoother face, Allyria’s was gaunter, pulling focus to her more defined cheekbones.  

What do they have in the water in Dorne? Why are all the Dornish I have met so beautiful? Aerea thought to herself.  

Aerea stood, smiling, and taking the hands of the three ladies, kissing the backs of each, and nodding her head to Addam. “You are all well met, my lord, my ladies, princess. I am glad that you were able to come to the tournament; Jaime was not sure if you would all be able to make it in time for the festivities.”  

“We almost didn’t, there was a storm as we were sailing that blew us slightly off course.” Elia answered, “But my mother was adamant that we continue the journey as scheduled instead of waiting.”  

Aerea saw from the corner of her eye Elia’s mother, the Princess of Dorne, and was once again thrown by her beauty as the older woman was speaking candidly with Joanna Lannister.  

“It is still good you were able to make it for the tourney and for the rest of the squire’s melee.”  

“It is the final rounds next, correct? Who is competing?” Addam asked.  

“My cousin Robert, the Stark brothers, Myles Mooton, Richard lonmouth, and Jon Connington.”  

“I suppose it should not be surprising that three of Arthur’s friends made it so far in the competition.” Ashara said, turning towards her sister.  

Allyria giggled, “With how much our brother loves to train, it would be expected that he might rub his dedication to the blade, off on others.”  

As the four were talking, Jaime leaned his head to the side, making eye contact with his two cousins, staring at them pointedly. Lyonel did not notice the look, but Cleos did, sweating a bit before taking his brother into his arms and standing up, walking around the row of chairs they had been sitting at, and sitting down on Stannis’ other side.  

Stannis looked at the other boy questioningly, confused about why he suddenly changed seats before seeing the Dornish girls and Addam sitting down next to Jaime.  

Well, that explains things. Stannis thought, not surprised by Cleos’ submission and Jaime's rudeness.  

Aerea noticed this too and told herself to ask Jaime about his actions when they were alone. She then looked at their new arrivals, “We were speaking earlier about who would win it all. Do you all have any thoughts on the matter?”  

Aerea tried to listen to their responses, but she ended up losing focus when she noticed a certain blonde girl from the corner of her eye.  

Cersei was sitting next to her aunt Genna, in the row of seats in front of her parents, Aerys, Rhaegar, and the rest of the small council.  

But what caught Aerea's attention was how Cersei was glaring at her and the others.  

This made Aerea wonder if Cersei was upset because she was not able to sit next to Rhaegar, who was sitting in between their father and Qarlton.  

But Aerea doubted this as Cersei’s eyes were firmly on herself, Jaime, and the three girls sitting next to him.  

Is she upset because she's by herself and she’s watching us have fun? I suppose she would be bored surrounded by adults and unable to think of a good way to approach my brother. Aerea thought.  

Aerea leaned her head closer to Jaime, whispering in his ear. “Jaime, do you think we should invite Cersei to sit with us?”  

Jaime blinked, “Why?”  

Aerea glanced back in Cersei’s direction, “She looks upset and bored up there.”  

Jaime turned around to see what Aerea was talking about and pursed his lips as he saw the fiery anger that was on his twin’s face, her eyes defiantly meeting his.  

“I don’t think that is a good idea.” Jaime said dryly.  

“Why not?”  

Because my sister dislikes my betrothed and does not like any of the people with us. “Cersei wants to be as close to your brother as possible until the last feast of the tournament. She may be annoyed that she can't sit next to him, but her mood will worsen if she is with us instead, it will ruin her plans.”  

Cersei had made it quite clear to her twin that she would stop at nothing to attract Rhaegar Targaryen, and that she would not tolerate anyone getting in the way of this, including him. So, Jaime has decided to keep his distance from his sister whenever Rhaegar was near, to avoid drawing her ire.  

Aerea looked back at Cersei for a moment before turning around, “If you say so.” And as the princess stared at the wooden platform waiting for the first match in the finals to begin, a thought quickly emerged in her mind.   

Jaime mentioned the last feast of the tournament, why is that import- Wait, is something going to.... Did Lord Tywin host this entire tournament so that he could butter father up for when he asks father to betrothed Rhaegar and Cersei? That would make more sense than tis all being for Viserys’ honor, Tywin has never cared much about my other siblings' births outside of strengthening the line of succession.  

But why would he do that? I mean, I know why, Rhaegar is the Crown Prince, if all goes well then, he will one day be King and his wife the Queen. But father does not want Tywin and House Lannister to become more powerful, there is no way he would allow them to gain more by betrothing Rhaegar to Cersei.  

Aerea clenched her fists, a feeling of dread filling her at the thought of what Aerys would do or say if she was right, and this was all a plot by the Lannisters.  

~X~

Brandon Stark laughed as Myles once again tried to strike him only to miss as Brandon would step out of the way and out of reach.  

Myles growled as he failed to touch the other boy, “I thought the Wild Wolf was braver than this?!”  

Brandon smirked, “And I thought Rivermen were supposed to be faster than this? I suppose I assumed to much of a fat oaf such as yourself.”  

Myles roared with anger, charging straight towards the Stark heir, his anger mounting as Brandon continued to smirk at him, remaining unbothered by it all. Just as Myles raised his sword above his head, and began to bring it down towards Brandon’s face, Brandon jumped to the side.  

Myles had overreached and was unable to correct himself, his weight and momentum causing him to slam into the wooden barrier of the platform. Myles’ eyes widened as he realized that Brandon had been goading him, but it was too late, and when to turned onto his back, Brandon pressed the edge of his sword against the side of Myles’ neck.  

Myles glared at the boy above him, “I... I yield.”  

Brandon grinned, “Good.”  

The crowd cheered as the herald announced Brandon’s victory. Brandon raised his sword up, causing the crowd to cheer louder.  

Myles pushed himself to his feet, walking past Brandon, “Good fight.”  

Brandon called out to Myles, “You too. No hard feelings?”  

“No hard feelings.” Myles repeated, continuing to walk.  

Damnit. I can’t believe I let him fool me like that, I should have known better. Myles thought as he entered the tent, walking past Jon who was standing by the entrance.  

“Are you alright, Myles?” Richard asked, “You put up a good fight.”  

“Wasn’t good enough to win.” Myles said, sitting down next to him.  

“It wasn’t; you made too many mistakes for winning to be possible.” Jon said, “But now you know what you need to work on to improve for the next tournament.”  

Richard looked at Jon blankly, “You are truly bad at cheering up others.”  

“It’s the truth.” Jon shrugged.  

“Don’t worry about me, Richard.” Myles stated, “Your match against Robert Baratheon will be starting soon, you should focus on that.”  

Richard sighed as he stood and went to retrieve his sword, “I know. Wish me luck, gods know I’ll need it against that beast.”  

“Just focus on ending the fight as quickly as possible; you’ll lose against Baratheon in a battle of attrition.” Jon added as they watched Richard leave the tent.  

~X~

End the fight as quickly as possible, he said. What good has that done me?! Richard thought as he barely avoided Robert’s war hammer for the tenth time.  

The hammer slammed into the area where Richard once stood, kicking dirt up into the air and denting the ground, Richard winced at this, glad that such a blow did not hit him. Richard took this opportunity to slash his sword at Robert, cutting the young heir across his arm.  

Robert gritted his teeth at the pain, quickly lifting his war hammer and jabbing it towards Richard, who barely had enough time to raise his sword to block and was sent flying back from the force of the attack.  

Robert did not wait for Richard to get back up, immediately rushing him and slamming his hammer down once he was above him.  

Richard lifted his sword and tried to stab Robert, grazing the side of Robert’s abdomen as his war hammer crashed into the ground next to Richard, narrowly missing the downed man’s head by mere centimeters.  

Robert then hooked the arm that he was not using to hold his hammer around Richard’s, keeping Richard’s sword and his arm against his side as he gently pulled his hammer out of the ground, raising it directly above Richard’s face. “Yield, Lonmouth.”  

Richard huffed as he tried to catch his breath, “What is Jon Arryn feeding you, Baratheon?”  

“Meat and mead.” Robert said, grinning savagely at the older boy.  

“That being true is utterly terrifying.” Richard japed, “Fine. I yield.”  

Robert put down his war hammer and used the arm he was holding Richard with to yank Richard to his feet. “Good fight, Lonmouth.”  

Richard groaned as his body ached and shuddered, “Good fight, Baratheon.”  

Robert grinned, patting Richard on the back as he left the platform, his smile growing as he reached Ned who was standing nearby, speaking adamantly to him.  

Richard had a slight limp as he walked out of the wooden platform, he sighed as he walked to Myles and Jon. “It looks like it's up to you, Jon”  

Jon turned his head to look at Ned and Robert, “I won’t lose.”  

Myles raised an eyebrow, “I have no doubt that you’ll be able to beat the younger Stark, but the older one and Baratheon will be harder, and you’ll be fighting those two at the same time if you win.”  

Jon smirked as he walked to the platform, “It doesn’t matter, I refuse to lose.”  

I will win, and when I do, dear Rhaegar will knight me before the realm. It will be a showing of his trust in my skill and valor, a way to tie us together further. Jon thought, already imagining how Rhaegar would look as he placed his sword on his shoulder and recited the sacred words of knighthood.  

Ned was already waiting for him in the center of the platform, his sword unsheathed and held out in front of him. He was not boisterous or cocky like Robert and Brandon were, instead Ned stared at Jon determinedly.  

“C’mon, Ned! You got this!” Brandon yelled from the sidelines.  

Jon smirked at Ned, unsheathing his blade, and pointing it at the younger boy. “It seems you are going to disappoint your brother and friends toady.”  

Ned’s eyes narrowed, “Is that so?”  

“Quite.”  

“We’ll see.”  

“Begin!” The herald exclaimed.  

Jon did not wait, quickly closing the distance between himself and Ned, his sword raised high above them as he brought it down in a wide arc.  

Ned positioned his body low to the ground, staying strong as he blocked the oncoming strike, not allowing Jon to push him back. With a small smirk, Ned took one of his hands off the handle of his sword and punched Jon in his unprotected torso.  

Jon coughed, wincing as the force of the punch knocked him back a few steps. Ned did not let up, holding his sword in two hands again and trying to stab Jon’s arms.  

Jon quickly parried the attack, once again trying to swing downward only for Ned to block his blade once again. Jon felt nothing but anger and frustration as he struck his sword against Ned’s over and over, unable to displace Ned.  

This fucking brat! Jon thought.  

After some time, Ned moved from being on the defensive to offensive, using his sword to push Jon back and slashing at his midsection.  

Jon parried this blow, but was left on the back foot as Ned was pushing him further and further back. A quick glance behind him and Jon could see that he was getting closer to the barrier, realizing that Ned was trying to do to Jon something like what his brother had done to Myles.  

“Do you think, I’m that easy of an opponent?!” Jon growled, “Don’t underestimate me!”  

Ned was surprised by Jon sudden bout of strength as Jon pushed him back and was now on the offensive again. The manic look in his eyes, unnerving Ned slightly.  

“Agk!” Ned exclaimed when Jon quickly slammed the end of his sword against the side of Ned's face.  

This forced Ned to take a step back and just as quickly as he blinked, Jon tackled Ned to the floor, dropping his sword as he rained down punches on Ned's face.  

“I yield!” Ned exclaimed, but Jon either did not hear or was ignoring him, as he punched him four more times before relenting.  

Jon smirked as he caught his breath, sitting above Ned and seeing the bruised and bloody mess that he left on his face.  

Jon stood up and pumped his fists in the air, taking in the cheers of the crowd as his victory was announced. Jon continued to smirk as Ned slowly stood up.  

Ned sighed, focusing more on his defeat than the stinging sensation on his face and head. He then walked up to Jon and held his hand out, “Good match, Connington.”  

Jon looked at Ned’s hand for a moment before reluctantly taking it, “Don’t be too upset, Stark, you were simply up against s superior fighter.”  

Ned glowered as he watched Jon swagger sway, irritated by the older boy's arrogant words and demeanor.  

Ned walked off the platform and was met with the furious face of Robert, his gaze firmly locked on Jon’s retreating form.  

“That fucking cunt.” Robert spat when he saw Ned approach, “He damn well heard you when you surrendered and yet he kept hitting you! Who does that?!”  

“I would figure that one who is so close to a prince would comport himself better.” Ned muttered.  

Robert scoffed, “Connington being friends with Rhaegar just shows how arrogant that bastard is.”  

Ned looked at his friend from the corner of his eye, he understood Robert did not have a higher opinion of his royal cousin. Ned did not know what had caused this change from his previous indifference, only that Rhaegar had said something to Robert once when they were younger that Robert never forgot.  

“I’ll make sure to beat him into the ground for you when our match with Brandon starts.” Robert declared.  

“You should focus on winning on getting revenge for me.”  

Robert grinned at Ned fiercely, “I can do both.”  

Ned rolled his eyes in response to Robert’s words as he watched Robert walk into a nearby tent to retrieve his war hammer.  

~X~

Robert, Brandon, and Jon stood in a triangle formation as they faced each other, their weapons drawn as they waited for the horns to sound. Each was confident in their ability to win and were eager to prove this fact to the excited and boisterous crowd.  

Loud bellowing of the horns soon sounded out through the field and the three young men ran at each other without hesitation.  

Robert swung his hammer in a wide arc, grinning as Brandon and Jon jumped back to avoid being knocked off their feet. The Baratheon chose to attack Jon first, swinging his hammer back around and above his head with the clear intention of bashing Jon’s head with it.  

Jon used his sword to parry the blow but was caught off guard when Brandon ducked under Robert’s war hammer and kicked him hard in the chest.  

Fucking hell! Jon growled as he felt his back hit the platform and glared at Brandon, but the younger boy was ignoring him as he traded blows with Robert.  

Robert felt some frustration beginning to build within him as he and Brandon clashed. Most opponents he faced would have already crumbled under the weight of his strength, unable to block too many blows from him and stand their ground, but Brandon was doing so with ease.  

Although Robert should not have been that surprised as Brandon was taller and quicker than him, even though Robert had the larger build.  

Suddenly, Brandon quickly turned his head and jumped to the side, Robert’s eyes widened when Brandon’s body left his field of view and saw the tip of Jon’s sword coming straight towards him. He barely had time to move his head to the side, feeling the blade cut the side of his neck.  

Robert immediately thrusted his war hammer forward, slamming the top of it into Jon’s abdomen, using it to lift Jon off the platform and throw him towards Brandon.  

The Stark did not have time to react as Jon’s body crashed into him, sending them both falling to the ground. Brandon then shoved Jon to the side and rolled away, dodging the war hammer that hit that platform, creating a hole in the wood.  

This is getting me nowhere; I need to deal with one of them first and quickly before the other can jump in. Brandon thought as he stood and took a low stance.  

Brandon figured that he needed to take out the bigger threat of the two first, making it easier for him to end it all. He ran at Robert, aiming his next strike at Robert’s hands, smirking when Robert intercepted his attack as he spun his hammer around, protecting his hands as he blocked the oncoming strike.  

Brandon then raised his foot, kicked Robert's calf, and knocked the younger boy slightly off balance. Brandon followed this by ramming his shoulder into Robert's chest.  

Robert expected to feel the wood of the platform against his back but was shocked when he felt his lower back hit and go over the barrier, hitting the actual ground instead.  

He fucking baited me. Robert thought, staring up at the blue sky, not knowing how to react to being eliminated in such a way.  

Once Robert had gone over the barrier, Brandon turned around and saw Jon charging at him. Jon had a determined and angered expression on his face, swinging his sword at Brandon’s legs.  

Once again, Brandon jumped to the side avoiding the strike.   

Jon followed, refusing to relent as he tried to cut the younger man down. But he soon stops when he sees that Brandon was trying to lead him to the platform edges, wanting to do to Jon what he did to Myles and Robert.  

“What is with you Starks and using that cheap move? Too scared to win with your own strength and skill?” Jon shouted, looking down at Brandon.  

Brandon’s smirk fell and he angrily bared his teeth and the man across from him. He then threw his sword to the ground.  

Jon smirked as he watched this, relaxing his stance and the grip on his sword loosening. “Finally giving up? I can't say that I blame you, you’re clearly-"  

Jon was unable to finish his sentence as Brandon had used his overconfidence to punch him in the face. Jon stumbled backwards and felt his world turn sideways when Brandon took the opportunity to tackle him to the ground, the same way that Jon had done to Ned in the previous match.  

Jon found himself even more in Ned's position as Brandon used both hands to continuously punch Jon, not giving him enough time to raise his own arms to try and block the onslaught.  

“Yield already, you little bastard.” Brandon growled, continuing to beat down on Jon.  

“Fuck you!” Jon yelled back, causing blood and spit to fly out of his mouth.  

Brandon grinned, continuing to punch Jon and it was only when Jon's head leaned to the side and he was able to see that Jon had lost consciousness, did Brandon stop.  

The tourney field was filled with stunned silence for a few moments before exploding into thunderous applause.  

Brandon soaked it all in as the herald looked down at Jon and announced his victory once it was clear that Jon was in no condition to continue fighting.  

Quickly, a group of squires come out with a stretcher, surrounding Jon as they placed him on top of it and carried his unconscious body to the maester's tent.  

~X~

Jon Connington felt nothing but displeasure and hatred as he lay on his back, staring at the top of the tent he was inside of.  

I lost… I fucking lost. Jon thought, the memory of Brandon on top of his replaying in his mind repeatedly since he awoke.  

Jon continued to stare at the top of the two even as he heard its entry flaps swing open along with multiple footsteps.  

“How long has he been like this?” Arthur asked as they reached the side of Jon's bed.  

“Since he woke up. He refuses to respond to anyone; he just keeps looking at the ceiling.” Richard said, looking at Jon with worry.  

“Jon.” The man in question turned his head when he heard Rhaegar speak his name.  

Jon swallowed as he felt his emotions threatening to burst forth. “My prince, I up apologize for my failure.”  

“There is nothing to apologize for, you gave your best effort.” Rhaegar spoke, “You should be proud of yourself, Jon.”  

Jon clenched his fist under the blanket that was covering his lower body.  

Rhaegar continued speaking, unbothered by Jon's visible frustration. “And there will be other tournaments and tourneys to participate in.”  

“That is true, my prince.” Jon muttered, still upset with his loss.  

Myles sighed exaggeratedly, “Hopefully the next tourney won't have Brandon Stark or Robert Baratheon in it.”  

Richard snorted, “You can say that again. I think my stomach his permanently bruised thanks to Robert’s war hammer.”  

Arthur laughed a bit, “Well, at least you got off easier than the other poor souls who faced him, most of them are still unable to move very far.”  

Jon tuned out the jokes and japes that his friends were throwing around as he stared at the prince. Rhaegar was facing Arthur, Richard, and Myles, standing there silently as they spoke to each other, his expression remaining passive.  

Despite Rhaegar’s words, Jon could help but think that he failed, that he had proven himself unworthy of Rhaegar’s support and trust. It made Jon want to burst into tears but forced himself not to and not to experience even more shame.  

The only thing that made him feel slightly better was hearing that the King did not knight anyone who had competed in the squire’s melee, even Brandon, despite what many would call an impressive showing.  

He didn’t beat me because he was better skilled; he played a dirty trick and distracted me! But I was also a fool for letting myself get distracted, my overconfidence had also played a role in my defeat, that I can’t deny.  

The thought of Brandon Stark infuriated him like no other, and he desired nothing more than to challenge Brandon to a real fight and see who the better warrior was.  

~X~

“So, did you like my match, brother?” Brandon asked Ned, grinning at him brightly.  

Ned huffed, and Brandon noted that the bruises on his face had begun to reveal themselves as they darken. “I did not ask you to beat Jon Connington unconscious, Brandon.”  

“You didn’t.” Brandon said with a playful wink.  

Ned rolled his eyes but was unable to keep the small smile off his lips, “Thank you.”  

“Aw, aren’t you the one who is always saying that I shouldn’t be so violent? Now you’re thanking me for that same violence; that Connington fool must have hit you harder than I thought.”  

Ned looked away from his brother and towards the viewing box holding the royal family and the small council. “I thought for sure that the King would have knighted you for winning it all.”  

Brandon sneered when he heard this, making his opinion of the King known. “I’m glad that I did not get my knighthood from such a piece of shit.”  

“Brandon!” Ned hissed, looking around them to see if anyone heard his brother.  

“He is a piece of shit, Ned. You remember what he did when Torrhen Glover died at his tourney; it was cruel and yet he never apologized for his actions. A man like that has no honor, and certainly no right to decided who is deserving of bestowing an honorable title to anyone.”  

The death of Torrhen Glover and Aerys’ reaction to his death was still a sore subject for the people of the North, even after all these years, and it was the reason most houses of the North had no one in Lannisport to represent the Kingdom.  

“Even so, your opinion should be kept to yourself and not where others can hear it, it’s treasonous.”  

Brandon waved off his brother’s concerns, even though he knew they were right, if the wrong person heard them, he could find himself kneeling before the King's executioner.  

“I can’t believe you rooted for Brandon! I’m your cousin, what happened to siding with family?” The two brothers turned when they heard Robert’s voice, seeing him walking alongside Aerea, Jaime, Stannis, and seven others that they did not know.  

Aerea laughed, “I only said that Brandon had the best chance of winning and I was right. And you’re acting as if I bet on the match.”  

“You might as well have.” Robert said before looking up and seeing Ned and Brandon, “And you! Who said you could knock me over the barrier like that?!”  

“I didn’t know that I needed to permission to kick your ass, Robert.” Brandon grinned.  

Robert grumbled as he crossed his arms and he glowered at Brandon, much to the amusement of the others. “It was still an annoying move.”  

“An annoying move that let me beat you.” Brandon shrugged, “I wasn’t going to win by trying to out muscle you, so I decided to think smarter rather than harder.”  

This caused the Dornish girls to laugh, drawing Brandon’s attention to them, looking each girl over slowly with his eyes. He moved past Robert, gently grabbing the hand of the closest girl and kissing the back of it. “And who might you ladies be?”  

Allyria, the one whose hand Brandon was holding, smiled at him amusedly. “Allyria Dayne, my lord. You performed impressively in the melee, from what I was able to see.”  

Elia and Ashara then introduced themselves to Brandon, finding his obvious interest in them just as funny as Allyria.  

“And you are Ned Stark, yes?” Ashara said, looking directly at Ned.  

Ned found himself lost in Ashara’s violet eyes, finding himself struggling to speak as he was struck dumb by her beauty. “I-y-yes. I-I am Ned Stark, my lady.”  

Robert’s eyes widened before he covered his mouth trying to hide his snickering. For as long as he has known him, Ned has showed little interest in women, refusing to speak in any way that could be called dishonorably and refusing to go with Robert to brothels.  

So, for Robert, seeing his friend so clearly taken by a woman was both a cause for celebration and a new source of amusement.  

Ashara’s expression then became one of slight concern, “The bruises are not too painful, are they? Jon should not have continued fighting after the match was called. I can speak to my brother about his friend's behavior if you would like?”  

“No, that is fine, my lady.” Ned interjected, his cheeks turning red, but it was lost within the dark purple color of the bruises that dotted his face. “My bruises look worse than they are, and my brother has more than shown Jon what being punched so many times feels like.”  

This causes Ashara to laugh, “He certainly did.”  

I can’t wait until we’re alone so we can speak of his new Dornish lady. Robert thought as he watched Ned and Ashara interact.  

Aerea smiles at this before frowning slightly when she turns her head and sees Brandon speaking to Elia, standing close to her, and looking at her suggestively. Aerea then spoke quietly to Jaime, “Jaime, are you fine with that?”  

“Fine with what?” Jaime asked.  

“Brandon looking at Elia like that.” Aerea answered, pointing at the point behind her hand.  

Jaime looked at Brandon and Elia, he could see that Brandon was not bothering to hide the way his eyes trailed every curve that the older girl had, how he managed to make her smile and laugh.  

Jaime found himself not caring all that much about it, both because Elia appeared to be humoring Brandon, not looking like the many other girls he had seen who were interested in handsome men, and because Jaime did not have romantic feelings for Elia. To him, Elia was a friend that he shared the occasional correspondence with and one that his parents decided he would marry once he was old enough to.  

I wouldn’t want Elia to be with other men if we were married, but we’re not, and I doubt she would sleep with Brandon regardless. And everyone knows about how liberal Dorne is when it comes to sex, so if she wishes to do so before then, she is within her right to. Jaime thought.  

“It doesn’t matter to me; Elia may be my betrothed, but she is not my property.” Jaime said.  

Aerea smiled, “That’s pretty mature of you. I’ve seen plenty of boys and men who would explode with jealously if their wife or betrothed so much as looked at another man.”  

Including my father. Aerea thought.  

Jaime grinned, “I’m not surprised that there are so many who are that insecure. I have nothing to worry about in that regard.”  

Aerea laughed and playfully pushed Jaime’s arm.  

I wonder what being tied to a person would be like, or even just being interested in someone romantically.