10 Tourney and Archery Competition
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ROBERT BARATHEON'S POV
As long as man had purpose, he would have something holding him back from weakening or dying.
With a goal or vision in mind, he would fight and slash his way through his challenges until it became his reality… or so I thought.
I, Robert of House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, First Men and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, had a vision in my mind.
A vision of the fall of House Targaryen and the death of all its members, and I made it a reality.
Almost.
I slayed Prince Rhaegar Targaryen himself, marched his men into King's Landing and took the Iron Throne for myself.
But that was where my vision ended.
As accomplished as I was, I no longer had a purpose.
My goal was accomplished and done the moment I first sat on the Iron Throne, and from that moment on I was a free man.
A free and pointless man.
No longer did I have enemies to slay or lands to conquer, I had only council meetings to attend, pennies to count and schemes to unravel.
No longer did I feel the blood-rushing thrill of a battle between life and death, nor the joy of fighting alongside my bonded brothers – Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn.
Day after day, night after night, it was whores upon whores, wine upon wine and hunts upon hunts.
At first, I had thought I would have loved the extravagance and carefree lifestyle.
It was the life I had desired to share with Lyanna Stark, just day after day of relaxation and luxury, but now I loathed it.
Perhaps the love of my life was a definite requirement, or maybe I had changed over these past years, but I no longer wanted such a life.
The wine didn't taste as sweet as it used to, and the woman just didn't feel the same.
I yearned for the past when I could have rode side-by-side with Ned as a young man, drinking and humping through life without thought with only our weapons by our side.
Well…
There was no longer a war and I hadn't wielded my Warhammer for half a decade.
If not for the pleasant nights I had in the best brothel of the Seven Kingdoms, I know not what might've been of my sanity.
I knew with time, my belly would become bloated as my arms were already growing weaker by each drink, but I could still see the thrill of battle through other means.
"Guards!" I loudly said as I slammed my empty cup on my table. "Bring me the Master of the Coin! I'm done waiting to host a tourney!"
With my demand, the whole of King's Landing had been working to organize the tourney, and even though some extravagant luxuries were required to be bought with extra gold I shouldn't be spending, it was bought nonetheless.
After all, I had the excuse that my Firstborn would soon celebrate his sixth name day before becoming a ward to his grandfather.
Within days, hundreds of invitations were sent out to the many Lords in the Realm, and thousands of posters were plastered upon the walls over all the cities in the Kingdom, attracting thousands of Sell Swords, Knights or even peasants who want to make a name.
I wanted this event to become one to remember, and it was shaping up into precisely what I desired.
With the week the responses came rolling back.
First of course, were the Lannisters, the family of my 'dear' Queen, Cersei, and her Kingsguard brother, the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister.
Tywin Lannister had also said that he would be personally visiting the tourney, most likely looking forward to seeing his son win the tourney, or so I've claimed rather sarcastically to Cersei.
Hoster Tully and many of the noble Lords had decided to come, with only the Starks declining the invitation, which was not too surprising to me since the northern folk saw tourneys as a waste of gold.
Especially since their damn winter came every bloody year now.
There were also many famous and noble knights aiming for the glory and fame, and of course the fifty thousand gold dragons to the winner of the joust, fifteen thousand to the melee, and ten thousand for the archery.
The royal account still had plenty of funds, and now with the seemingly magical Master of the Coin, there was no shortage of anything.
Lord Tywin had no problem with providing the funds for some extra extravagances.
The Lannisters had gold more than anyone, and thought that the sight of Jaime Lannister winning the event made them worthy of the Golden Dragons in Lord Tywin's mind.
King's Landing was almost immediately filled with addition thousands of people, which included hundreds of merchants, selling goods coming as far as Pentos, retired soldiers or battle-loving peasants flooded into the city with palpable excitement, and of course, thousands of Knights and Sell Swords trying to gain a life of glory.
Hundreds of goats, cows and pigs were butchered and grilled for the hungry appetites of the increased number in the city, and the entire King's Landing was festering with festivities and joyful crowds.
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DURRANDON'S POV
"I do loath such large crowds." I muttered as I was moved along the crowded streets. "My father relishes these tourneys, but I'm afraid the time is rather ill-suited for such festivities."
Jaime Lannister chuckled lightly as he walked behind his nephew, ignoring the various looks he was getting from the women in the crowd. "You are most ungrateful, my Prince. Both our fathers had paid a lot of gold for such a massive event, and as their kin we should at least pretend to enjoy the tourney. Especially since we are celebrating your Sixth Name Day."
"I'm different from you, uncle. I am not yet a Knight and I'm not currently seeking to gain any glory from such a suffocating crowd, though I do appreciate the fresh products that are coming into the city." I had a small smile on my lips as I remembered the relevant individuals who had accepted the invitation and had come to the Capital.
In particular some major figures in the Crownlands had paid a visit, such as houses Bar Emmon, Celtigar, Sunglass, Massey, Rosby and Stokeworth.
The first and second allowed me to respectively meet the young Bar Emmon heir named Duram and gain the interest of the greedy Lord Adrian Celtigar.
The third, fourth and fifth merely served as a good first impression with the pious Lord Guncer Sunglass, the eccentric Lord Massey and the no longer that sick Lord Gyles Rosby.
With the final visit allowing me to interact with Lollys Stokeworth before she became too ugly, from what the books insisted on describing.
Sadly the exceptions were the most relevant ones, Lord Velaryon of Driftmark and uncle Stannis' current castle, Dragonstone.
I'm sure their castles' Magical Dungeons would be the only ones to offer loot just as great as the one under the Red Keep, and some sort of challenge now that I had a better control over my magic and skills.
Especially with more first class spells, such as the already essential Disguise Self and others like…
{CHROMATIC ORB Lv- 1(78%)}
{FIRST CLASS EVOCATION SPELL: You hurl a 4-inch-diameter sphere of energy at a creature that you can see within range. If you have the element contained, choose acid, cold, fire, lightning, poison, or thunder for the type of orb you create, and then make a ranged spell attack against the target. If the attack hits, the creature takes damage of the type you chose.}
CASTING TIME: 6 SECONDS
DURATION: INSTANTANEOUS
RANGE: 30 METERS
COMPONENTS: VOCAL, SOMATIC AND MATERIAL (a jewel worth of 50 gold coins)
Sure, the jewel wasn't that cheap of a component, but it was at least reusable, which made it a good progress in my book.
Acid and poison were a no-brainer by merely throwing some filled flasks, only this time I would have an actual projectile made out of them.
Fire and Ice were a neat rhyme with the whole Song of Ice and Fire.
Lighting and thunder are my personal favorites.
Although the damage was slightly bigger than my Eldritch Blast, I expected to find its types of damage more commonly resisted, if not outright immune, by certain opponents compared to both Force and Psychic damage.
Come to think of it, having my Gladius carrying each magical effect depending on the occasion sounded really epic, didn't it?
Well…
{ARCANE WEAPON Lv- 1(78%)}
{FIRST CLASS EVOCATION SPELL: You channel arcane energy into one simple or martial weapon you're holding, and choose one damage type: acid, cold, fire, lightning, poison, or thunder. Until the spell ends, you deal extra damage of the chosen type to any target you hit with the weapon. If the weapon isn't magical, it becomes a magic weapon for the spell's duration. As a bonus, you can change the damage type, choosing from the options above.}
CASTING TIME: INSTANTANEOUS
DURATION: CONCENTRATION, UP TO 1 HOUR
RANGE: SELF
COMPONENTS: VOCAL AND SOMATIC
Useful not only for my already broken Valyrian steel blades, any weapon became momentarily magical under the effect of this spell.
Especially throwables and projectiles, like knives and crossbow bolts, which allowed me to save the Dragon glass tipped ones for very special occasions.
{MAGE ARMOR Lv- 5 (23%)}
{FIRST CLASS ABJURATION SPELL: A spell that uses Mana to conjure an invisible barrier of magical force that protects you. The more mana you use the denser it becomes. You can also touch a willing creature and grant it a protective magical force surrounding it until the spell ends. The spell ends if the defense is broken or if you dismiss the spell. As a bonus, you can momentarily condense everything into a more powerful shield barrier that defends your front, however it leaves your back unguarded. The shield captures some of the incoming energy, greatly lessening its effect on you and storing it for your next melee attack while momentarily giving you resistance to the triggering damage type.}
CASTING TIME: 6 SECONDS
DURATION: 8 HOURS
RANGE: SELF, TOUCH
COMPONENTS: VOCAL, SOMATIC AND MATERIAL (A piece of cured leather)
An extra protection to layer on top of my constantly raised Arcane Ward, which could withstand moderate damage before depleting itself.
This magical armor and shield made me more confident to face armies of men and hordes of undead.
Next…
{UNSEEN SERVANT Lv- 10 (1%)}
{FIRST CLASS CONJURATION SPELL: This spell creates an invisible, mindless, shapeless force that performs simple tasks at your command until the spell ends. The servant springs into existence in an unoccupied space on the ground within range. It has light defense, 10 Health points, and all stats at 10, though it can't attack. If it drops to 0 Hp, the spell ends. You can mentally command the servant to move up to 5 meters and interact with an object. The servant can perform simple tasks that a human servant could do, such as fetching things, cleaning, mending, folding clothes, lighting fires, serving food, and pouring wine. Once you give the command, the servant performs the task to the best of its ability until it completes the task, then waits for your next command. If you command the servant to perform a task that would move it more than 20 meters away from you, the spell ends.}
CASTING TIME: 6 SECONDS
DURATION: 1 HOUR
RANGE: 10 METERS
COMPONENTS: VOCAL, SOMATIC AND MATERIAL (A piece of string and a bit of wood)
Let me tell you, what this spell lacked in offensiveness, it more than made up for with usefulness.
Now, besides my actual pair of legerdemain hands, I had four invisible ones (by simply twining this first class spell) that could do pretty much anything I asked (other than attack my enemies).
Slowly but surely I was becoming the telekinetic master I've always dreamt to be.
Besides, this servant, other than reminding me of Madara's limbo clones, surprised me with its own capacity of performing magic.
Nothing offensive like my Eldritch Blast or Mind Sliver, but actually mimicking my Thaumaturgy, Arcane Ward, Minor Conjuration and Illusion.
Oh, and it also has a unique spell of its own.
Let me see…
{FLOATING DISK}
After performing a few tests, I learned that this spell created a circular, horizontal plane of force, a meter in diameter and 3 centimeters thick, that floated a meter above the ground in an unoccupied space near my Unseen Servant.
The disk remains for the duration of one hour, and can hold up to 250 Kilograms. If more weight was placed on it, the spell ends, and everything on the disk falls to the ground.
It can move across uneven terrain, up or down stairs, slopes and the like, which I can use to pretend to hover above ground, but it can't cross an elevation change of 3 meters or more. For example, the disk can't move across a 3-meters-deep pit, nor could it leave such a pit if it was created at the bottom.
Quite a useful spell, if not a little circunstancial.
The main problem I had with copying it was that my Unseen Servant was a terrible teacher.
Regardless, I now had the ability to dual cast any non-offensive cantrip I had through it.
Let's see, what more I got?
Oh, right.
{SLEEP/AWAKE Lv- 4 (76%)}
{FIRST CLASS ENCHANTMENT SPELL: This spell sends creatures into a magical slumber, or awakens them from one. Creatures within 6 meters of a point you choose within range are affected in ascending order of their levels, each creature affected by this spell falls unconscious until the spell ends, the sleeper takes damage, or someone shakes or slaps the sleeper awake. Unconscious creatures can be awakened through this spell's effect. Undead and creatures immune to being charmed aren't affected by this spell.}
CASTING TIME: 6 SECONDS
DURATION: 1 MINUTE
RANGE: 30 METERS
COMPONENTS: VOCAL, SOMATIC AND MATERIAL (A pinch of fine sand, rose petals, or a cricket)
More useful during stealthy operations, making it much easier to silently dispose or surrender any target.
But I digress…
The two of us, uncle Jaime and me, who was still a head shorter than my Water Dance instructor, Syrio Forel, could see countless banners on full mast all around the city.
From the pierced sun of the House Martell to the white falcon of the House Arryn, emblems fluttered in the wind as Knights of almost all Great Houses rode into the city en masse.
The horses' neighs were almost as loud as the merchants in the middle of the market, and the gleaming shine of the suits of armor in sight was almost too bright to bear.
Rubies, sapphire, emerald, red gold and diamond filled the market as a line of Knights marched to the tourney arena.
"So the Martells actually came…" I muttered before crossing my arms. "I don't think I've seen them this close to King's Landing my entire life."
Jaime nodded with an apathetic nod. "Well. Not that you've lived for that long, dear nephew, but they really aren't admirers of our good Ser Gregor Clegane, and seeing how both him and the Hound are in this tourney, it only makes sense that they would come and try to take their honor."
"Can't blame them." I admitted with a hint of mockery. "They think that the Mountain raped and killed their princess and smashed her son's head on the wall." Getting serious I turned to look at Jaime. "If it was me and mother who suffered that fate, you would have killed the bastard before he could take one last shit."
Jaime nodded silently with a grim face, not worried that I've heard of the rumors since my proximity with Rhaenys had become common knowledge.
After a moment of silent walk, the Kingsguard and I reached into the Red Keep and passed idly by the Gold Cloak watchers standing guard along the grand hallways of the King's home.
The heavy steps of the armored knight stomped into the Great Hall, and the two of us bowed respectfully to the King still in his mid twenties, who sat upon the Iron Throne.
Robert had his usual cup of wine in his hand and his face was on its way to become as red as the Lannister emblem.
His black hair had grown longer and his initial clean-shave had turned into a thick beard, though he still had the muscular build from before.
Although who knew for how long, given how addicted to Hamburgers and Soda from Chataya's establishment he had become.
A war couldn't come fast enough to bring him out of his boredom.
In any case, the Great Hall looked a lot different compared to when the Targaryens ruled, instead of Dragon Skulls and sleek, cold walls, the hall was covered with top-made tapestries and priceless artifacts.
The gold inside the room was enough to feed a village of five hundred for years, and the shining marble that covered the ground was so smooth people could use it as a mirror.
The only unchanged part of the hall was the Iron Throne, a monstrosity of a chair made of hundreds of melted swords that I planned to get rid of.
To the Seven hells with this metonymic device to refer to the king's authority or to the polity born after Aegon's Conquest.
"Your Grace." Greeted both Jaime and I as we fell to one knee and bowed our heads. "Everything is accounted for and the tourney can start at any time." The Baratheon Knights were already marching to the arena, led by the King's own brother, Stannis Baratheon. "The Great Houses have mostly arrived and the Lords have begun to settle into the viewing area."
Robert bellowed a laugh and stood up. "Great! Let's get going! Prepare my steed and let us ride over with the Knights!" Robert stepped down from his throne and headed out of the Great Hall. "Ah kid, have you placed your bets today?"
"Not yet, father, but I do hope to win quite a bit." Robert's laugh bellowed again as Jaime shook his head with a smirk, seemingly amused by Durrandon's relationship with his own father. It wasn't love, but it was better than hate. "I spent quite a bit on the market, so I need to win some back."
"Oh, if only you were past your tenth name day, I could teach you a few things; I spent a lot of time with the women in the best Brothel of the city for the past week!" Robert declared shamelessly.
Jaime had a dark look on his face as he forced himself to not glare at the King, while the Kingslayer had no desire for the King to bed his sister, he also hated the fact that he would so casually disregard his Queen as if she was some common whore he bought.
Cersei was one of the most desirable and beautiful women in the realm, and she deserved better.
That was my personal opinion, regardless of her being a spoiled bitch who didn't get enough spanking from her parents.
"Haha! Let's go see some action kid!" Cried Robert with a boisterous laugh. "No more slow meetings or menial penny counting, just men battling for honor, glory and fame!"
As the King left ahead, almost as if reading Jaime's thoughts, I spoke. "The Gods gave men two gifts to entertain ourselves before we die. The thrill of killing a man who wants to kill you, and the thrill of fucking a woman who wants to be fucked. Paying whores to entertain you certainly does not count as funny."
"My my, I'm beginning to question what Pycelle has been teaching you." Jaime replied, smiling as if he had just heard one of his brother's infamous jokes.
"Will the winner of the tourney be selected as my Sworn Shield?" I asked, ignoring his previous joke.
"I believe so." Jaime replied. "Disappointed?"
"Not yet." I replied before asking and moving along. "Where's uncle Tyrion? I've been wanting to meet him for quite a while now."
"He and my father are still on their way from Casterly Rock. Though I suspect not for long." Jaime informed me before following behind.
In any case, I had to visit Rhaenys before the real party started.
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RHAENYS' POV
Reuniting with my uncles was… not what I had expected.
Uncle Oberyn, like me, had the features of a salty Dornishmen.
With slender, graceful and fit build, displaying a lined and saturnine face with thin eyebrows, black "viper" eyes and a sharp nose.
His hair was lustrous and black with only a few silver streaks and receded from his brow into a widow's peak.
"Look at you! Even more beautiful than…" The words seemed to almost choke him out of his casual demeanor, so instead he covered it up with a hug. "Oh my dear, it's so good to finally see you again." His expression darkened for a moment. "How have they been treating you?"
If our paths had crossed a couple of years ago, my answer would have certainly been more accusatory towards the king and his men, alas, things weren't as they used to be.
"I've been allowed to be lectured by the Grand Maester and a competent Septa." I began with a genuine answer. "Granted sufficient meals and the necessary rest per day to grow healthy." I added casually.
Oberyn suddenly grinded his teeth, immediately turning his gaze towards the Master of Whispers.
"Tell me Spider, what lies have you been spinning to make her so easily accept such conditions as normal for her?!" He spoke in a threatening manner towards Varys, who for all of his non combatant skills, wasn't shaken by my uncle's words.
From what I learned, he had always been fierce and fearsome with a notorious reputation, with adjectives such as "half-mad" and "deadly, dangerous, unpredictable" floating around alongside statements that "no man dared tread on him".
Briefly Observing him allowed me to confirm the claims of him being a renowned warrior, quick as a water snake.
"Only the truth, my prince." The Master of Whispers replied in a serious tone. "The cruel reality that any harsh retaliation will bring her no benefit. And that if she wishes to claim back what is rightly hers, she will have to play the Game of Thrones with the cards she had been dealt."
"It's true, uncle." I stepped in, retrieving a small dagger from my Inventory as I've been hiding it within my clothes and gesturing that I could've easily taken the opportunity to threaten his life. "House Nymeros Martell's words may be 'Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken'. But in order to avoid the fury of the usurper, I need to appear to be quite the opposite."
Noticing the sharp dagger nearby his throat, instead of reacting shocked, Oberyn gave out a pleased grin.
"It seems unlike your mother, your flower came out with sufficient thorns in order to survive this prison transmuted as a castle surrounded by false friends." Watching as I hid the weapon away once again, he continued while staring back at the silent figure of my uncle Doran. "And I can also see some of my older brother in you as well."
I merely nodded in acknowledgment, trying my best to mimic how professional Durrandon always behaved while training me.
In his early forties, uncle Doran appeared as a cautious, pensive, and subtle man. Prone to think long on the matters before him, weighing every word and every action.
As he finally approached me, he silently gave me a hug that, although lacking the same passion behind Oberyn's, still relayed his feelings towards me.
"It's so good to see you, my niece." Doran finally spoke, as his eyes were a mixture of sadness and determination. "And even though I agree with your previous statement, I must say that I'm heavily saddened to learn that your innocence has been lost by such unfortunate circumstances."
Oberyn rolled his eyes at his brother's words, having a bone to pick with his usual use of euphemisms.
"I'm grateful for your concern, uncle." I replied with genuine feelings. "But there's nothing that could be done to avoid it. I much rather trade my childish naivety in order to achieve my goals."
"Well said." Oberyn complimented me.
"I can't argue with that logic." Doran agreed, but the sadness in his eyes seemed to have momentarily surpassed the determination in him. Doran turned his gaze towards the Spider and asked. "I take that you've been teaching her your skills."
Varys nodded. "She knows how to disguise her appearance and act to suit her needs. And I've been working with her through my network of spies."
Oberyn approached him with a serious face. "Why? You are risking your life, your position…" He stared down at the eunuch. "You are not family, you owe us nothing."
Varys had a semblance of a smirk that he so well kept hidden behind his polite mask. "I didn't do it for either of you, my princes." He stared at me this time. "Neither for you, my dear. I'm doing it for the Seven Kingdoms."
"Dorne will never be the savior of the Seven Kingdoms." Doran pointed out skeptically.
"I don't believe in saviors." Varys admitted. "Any fool with a bit of luck can find themselves born into power. But earning for yourself, that takes work."
"Get it done with your riddles, Spider." Oberyn demanded. "I've had enough with my brother here."
Varys bowed respectfully before looking at me, and I immediately understood what he was about to reveal to them.
"Aegon, your nephew, is alive."
This was all that it took to shock both Doran and Oberyn in similar fashion.
After explaining to him what he had told me the night I met Durrandon, I watched my younger uncle lunge at the Master of Whisper's throat.
"You! You knew about what was going to happen! You could've saved Elia!" Oberyn shouted, not carrying how much privacy the Spider had gained for them to meet with me.
"Uncle!" I rushed to stop him from doing anything rash, while noticing that Doran was still processing everything. "Varys said that mother herself had requested that only Aegon be taken away. Apparently she had expected that we both would've survived the sack of the city."
Oberyn immediately cleared his tears and released the master of whispers, muttering to himself. "Oh sister, you fool!"
Coughing for a brief moment, Varys finally cleared his throat and turned towards Doran. "I'm aware that you plan to wed your daughter to Viserys Targaryen and support his claim to the throne. But I'm presenting you with better candidates to rule the Seven Kingdoms." He concluded with a final look at me.
I recalled Don's suspicions of this supposed brother of mine being a Blackfyre from the female line, and that Varys himself might've been a bastard of that lineage, so his proposal of me marrying this 'Aegon' had an added motive behind it.
Oberyn Martell stared at his older brother, seemingly not being aware of Doran's plans for the runaway Targaryens, before facing Varys again.
"Are you suggesting we marry our niece to our nephew?" He asked with a semblance of disgust.
"Such is the Targaryen tradition." Varys shrugged, clearly not yet intimidated by uncle Oberyn. "But if you must know, there's another way. Have Aegon marry your daughter." He faced uncle Doran. "Either way, the only thing I care about is peace and prosperity for the realm."
That almost made me laugh.
He speaks of peace and prosperity for the realm, disregarding the reputation that Durrandon had been building for himself.
Marrying Doran's daughter would be even more beneficial to his fake Aegon, better have him married the queen of an entire Kingdom, that had never been conquered even when dragons were still alive, than have him tied with girl with only the feint support of both Targaryen and Martell houses.
At least through me, his line would have the legitimate blood to rule even after his origin was uncovered, the only one remaining to oppose it being my uncle Viserys.
And his and my aunt's lives were in the Spider's hand, as Varys was the one secretly protecting them from Don's father.
Eventually, Varys did mention the fact that I've been growing closer to the current Crown Prince, only to sour their moods by mentioning that Don would become a ward at Casterly Rock after the festivities of his nameday ended.
We hadn't delved into planning on my escape, since it would merely bring war before they were ready to quickly end it.
After that, uncle Doran and the Master of Whispers engaged in their scheming while uncle Oberyn led me to meet my cousins.
Arianne, the only daughter of uncle Doran, with her little brothers being spared the travel of visiting King's Landing.
She told me that the last time we met, we were both too young to remember one another.
Honestly, after spending time with her, I got more the feeling of her being just like uncle Oberyn, adventurous and fierce-tempered.
Although the way she kept saying I was beautiful while playing with my hair was a little unnerving.
Nymeria and Obara were both bastard daughters of uncle Oberyn, with their younger sisters, known as the 'Sand Snakes' also remaining in Dorne.
While Nymeria had the elegance and astuteness needed to play the Game of Thrones, like Alysse had, I knew how to identify someone versed with concealed daggers and hidden blades.
As for Obara, I wouldn't exactly describe her as ugly, but her big-boned build and callused hands gave her a slightly mannish look.
Older might she be, being around her sixteenth nameday, I still bet Don could easily overpower her.
It was not like the four of us were expected to become best friends all of the sudden, especially with how short of a time we had available.
And soon enough, I was left alone.
Again.
…
'Is everything alright?' I clearly heard a familiar voice reaching me in a magical whisper.
Walking towards the secret passage in the wall of my chamber, I replied back in the same magical whisper. 'Yes, just processing my reunion with my Dornish family.'
As I was about to properly greet Don, I noticed that Alysse stood by his side.
"It must have been hard for you." Alysse remarked with a caring demeanor.
She approached and hugged me, leaving me wondering if I looked like someone in need of such an act, given that both my uncles had done the very same.
*Ouch!
I noticed Durrandon had flicked his finger on my forehead.
"Why did you do that?" I asked while rubbing my bruise, prompting Alysse to end the hug.
"You are looking too gloomy for someone who just reunited with her family." Durrandon remarked as Alysse began to inspect my forehead.
Gently dismissing Alysse's worries I looked at Don, understanding how well he knew me, and that he expected me to be more forefront with my feelings. "It's just… that I … I don't know what to make of them yet. I barely remember their names, and hearing about my mother was a little unpleasant."
"Even though our backgrounds are not the same, I can relate with that feeling." Alysse spoke, showing some sympathy for me, remembering the mother that died before she had memories of, and a stepmother that died soon after.
Nodding in acknowledgment, I finally returned her hug.
*Meow!
Just then, I noticed Shadow's presence, seemingly warning Don of something.
"Sorry, girls." He suddenly spoke. "We must get going."
Both me and Alysse nodded, understanding that our day would be very busy and eventful today.
"Are you really planning to compete in the tourney?" I asked, unsure of what his plans were.
Don nodded, leading us through the maze of secret passageways. "However, since the tourney is being raised in my name, I must be seen in public."
Raising an eyebrow at his answer, I interpreted that as my cue to take his place.
"But my disguise is meant to be used in social stealth, from a distance especially from those that had raised you." I argued, pointing out the limitations of what Varys had taught me.
While Don remained silent, Alysse was the one to speak. "Don't worry, Don has come up with a spell excellent for that."
"A new spell" I questioned, not really enjoying the idea of being in the dark about such matters.
Don suddenly halted his movement and turned to face me. "Remember the illusions I used to switch places with you to train with the Spider?" After nodding my head, Don placed his hand over my shoulder. "This one is not an illusion."
At that moment I felt body reshaping itself, my body became larger while my skin got paler, my hair shortened and gained more strands of silver.
By the end of it, I had to quickly switch my clothes for the ones Don had given me.
However I wasn't the only one to change appearance.
Before me, Don had turned into a broad-shouldered young man wearing a simple looking shirt and pants, tall as his father, wearing a cheap-looking helmet that covered most of his head and some average looking greaves and vambraces to not shame himself too much.
With golden strands of hair falling over his shoulder and back, while his emerald eyes were the most noticeable feature of this new form.
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DURRANDON'S POV
Despite the usefulness of the Disguise Self illusion, which served for most accounts as a new body, I couldn't take or deal damage without breaking the illusion.
And with my new discovery after reflecting over my basic comprehension of Transmutation magic, I learned…
{ALTER SELF Lv- 4 (05%)}
{TRANSMUTATION SECOND CLASS SPELL: You assume a different form, transforming your appearance beyond mere illusion. Deciding what you look like, including your height, weight, facial features, sound of your voice, hair length, coloration, and distinguishing characteristics, if any. You can make yourself a member of another race, with different age or gender. You also can appear as a large creature of a similar shape than you; but if you're bipedal, you can't use this spell to become quadrupedal, for instance. At any time for the duration of the spell, you can use your action to change your appearance in this way again. *Natural Weapons: You grow claws, fangs, spines, horns, or a different natural weapon of your choice that has magical properties. *Aquatic Adaptation: You adapt your body to an aquatic environment, sprouting gills and growing webbing between your fingers. You can breathe underwater and gain a swimming speed equal to your walking speed.}
CASTING TIME: SIX SECONDS
DURATION: CONCENTRATION, UP TO 1 HOUR
RANGE/TARGET: SELF/TOUCH
COMPONENTS: VOCAL AND SOMATIC
I freaking love this spell.
Was it strictly better than Disguise Self?
No.
One of the major points of Disguise Self was that even though it could alter my appearance to a more limited extent, it at least changed my clothing and equipment as well.
This means that, depending on how severely I altered myself, I may no longer fit into my equipped clothing.
Although my Runed Bronze set of armor enlarged with me after successfully attuning with it, that was a special case.
Fortunately Disguise Self wasn't dependent on concentration to be casted, so I could easily overlap both spells once I got the sufficient reserve of mana to spend.
Plus, It wasn't merely illusionary changes that only fooled others even through touch, Alter Self transmuted my body into what I had in mind.
Faceless men had nothing on me, in fact, I could very well change my gender (not gonna bother with it though) and age.
Flexing my adult body muscles while caressing my impressive beard never failed to get a chuckle out of me, especially as I towered above most of my opponent's height.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
Natural weapons gave me retractable, razor-sharp magical stingers or claws located within my forearms that came out either below my wrists or in between my metacarpus (both Spider-Man and Wolverine), which were both a neat touch.
Why stop there?
Instead of having barbs to pierce the surface that I climbed on, I got them to rub together and create static electricity which helped me grip onto any surface.
This was called the van der waals force, this happened to spiders and geckos, when they climbed. And it was how Spider man was able to climb with or without gloves.
Through the Aquatic Adaptation, I could sprout gills and fins while also growing webbing between my fingers, not forgetting a jaw similar to a shark for extra damage and octopuses' ink glands for underwater retreat.
Since I was immune to the damage of my lightning power even while submerged, I could pretend to be an off the charts humanoid Electric Eel.
If I walked around town like this, people would start claiming that the Deep Ones were back.
Unfortunately the ability to fly was still denied to me, so no draconic wings to match my Draconic resilience, but not for long.
But all of that was not what I needed at the moment.
{-20 MP}
"How's the result?" I asked with a deeper voice than I usually had.
While Rhaenys was too busy checking how much of her body I had changed, I got a reply from Alysse, who immediately began assessing my transmutations.
"Rhaenys looks just like you." She gave a thumbs up while chuckling at her friends' awe, embarrassment and secret relief for remaining a girl. "As for you… somehow you still remain just as dashing as before. Though your armor makes you look more like a peasant that got lucky with a friendly blacksmith."
"It will have to do." I remarked while lowering the visor of my helm.
Now that the illusion became reality, and Rhaenys became just like me in both appearance and voice, I had a tourney to attend.
—————————————————————
The tournament arena had three large sections, with a large pavilion built to overlook all three.
At the center of the pavilion was a heightened area with a large canopy providing shade from the scorching sunlight for the spectators below.
The King himself sat at the center of the heightened area with the Queen, Cersei Lannister, sitting to his right, looking beautiful and regal in her red gown.
The young Crown Prince Durrandon Baratheon sat one row down from his parents, alongside the Lord Hand's daughter Alysse Arryn, with a different glimmer in his eyes.
Almost as if he wasn't himself.
Many other powerful people sat close to the royal family, including the Queen's Father, Tywin Lannister.
The other Lords were all sitting along the pavilion, looking over the tourney arena and the gigantic crowd of spectators on the other side.
The Master of Coin, estimated that the city would gain from the increased expenditure, if the prize gold to the winners were not as high.
Not that he could care less though, more opportunity for him to cover his recent losses.
In the previous days, every inn in King's Landing, high-end to dirt poor, had been filled and more people were filing in.
The merchants had more coins in their pockets than they could carry and the entire city was in a state of festival.
But there had also been a few drunken fights, stabbings and rogue horse races down the Street of Sisters, needless to say, the City Watch had been very busy.
"Your Grace, I heard you are an occasional gambling name?" Asked a teenager Tyrion with a smirk on his face and a drink in his hand, something that became part of his life after the Tysha incident. "Care to wager on the winner of the joust?"
The King smirked and nodded. "You've heard correctly."
The dwarf stood from his seat and moved closer to the King, who was sitting closer to his family, earning a scowl from the Queen.
"How about one hundred gold dragons as the wager?" Robert finished his drink and held it out to a servant to fill his cup.
"That sounds good, and I'll place that amount on my brother, Jaime Lannister as the winner." Tyrion replied proudly.
The King smiled and nodded. "Very well, I will place my money on Gregor Clegane; the Mountain is someone I believe to be able to dismount the Kingslayer."
"Can anyone place their bet with you two?" Asked a new voice from their right.
Prince Oberyn of Dorne, who was in his late twenties, walked up to the two with his usual witty smile, masterfully hiding his usual fiery hate for both houses.
Tyrion immediately felt his smile leave his face as he made eye-contact with the known sexually-ambivalent man.
Oberyn had clear contempt in his eyes when looking at Baratheons and Lannisters, and the smirk on his face did not make Tyrion any more comfortable.
"Of course, the more the merrier!" Robert said with a laugh, gesturing to a young servant and having him jot down the bets. "The Dwarf and I have respectively placed bets on Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Gregor Clegane. Would you like to stack either of our wagers or would you prefer another Knight?"
The Dornish Prince smirked and sat down close to them. "I believe it's no surprise that I want both of those to lose, so I'm going to wager on someone else."
Tyrion had a forced smile before returning to his drink, but the King nodded.
"Please place one hundred Gold Dragons on Ser Barristan, whom I believe to be the best knight in the tourney." Oberyn asked.
Tyrion smiled rather forcefully and sat back against his seat. "I certainly wish you the best of luck."
The Dornish Prince smirked with his eyes betraying some mixed emotions. "As do I."
"Come on, your wagers are so boring!" Added a fourth voice, the three immediately turned back and saw the supposed Crown Prince.
"Uncle Jaime … The Mountain and Ser Barristan are always the one who wins; but this year I'll wager that it is different!" The slightly different Crown Prince said, staring for a moment at the Dornish Prince.
Robert laughed and lifted his drink into the air. "Care to place a wager, kid?"
"I'll place a thousand gold dragons that someone besides those three will win! How about it, are you going to accept that bet?"
"My Prince, it is highly unlikely that someone besides those three will win." Tyrion said as he finished his drink again. "Perhaps you should stack on our bets."
"I agree with the Imp." Oberyn cut in, ignoring the slight twitch Tyrion gave at his nickname. "Those three are the strongest warriors in Westeros, perhaps the entire world, so the chance of some random Knight winning is very unlikely."
In Oberyn's eyes, the young crown prince was one of the few with Baratheon and Lannister blood that he didn't wish to die, especially after what his niece told him.
Durrandon waved the two off and looked back at his father. "So? Are you going to accept it or not?"
"Of course I will!." Robert smiled and signaled at the servant to jot down the new numbers. "I certainly could use the entertainment more than the coin." The King raised his cup high and shouted. "Alright! Let's get this tourney started!"
Tyrion chuckled and leaned ahead. "I believe the first event is the Archery Competition." He shook his head and rested back against his seat and sipped on his wine. "Well, I didn't bet on this so I'm not even going to bother."
"I am." The slightly suspicious Crown Prince remarked. "Have any of you heard about a silver tongue Bard?"
Everyone else, besides the King, raised an eyebrow in confusion while Alysse stopped herself from laughing.
—————————————————————
DURRANDON'S POV
I stepped out of the large crowd, altered into my newest appearance and followed the rest of the contestants into the preparation line leading up to the archery field.
Like the others around me, I had a small wooden badge strapped to my upper arm, signifying my role as a participant.
Around me and the other contestants were hundreds of spectators, trying to get a good view into the competition, even children who were sitting on their fathers' shoulders.
"Hey big guy, did you get lost?" Asked a rather feminine voice to my left, who was a young and beautiful girl dressed in a jeweled silk dress.
She looked to be around thirteen, a year older than Alysse, but had a mature glint in her eyes and her long silky black hair made her look graceful and elegant.
A beautiful Dornish just like Rhaenys.
There were two other girls standing behind her dressed in similar fashions, and they were smirking to themselves as they stared at me.
"You're a head taller than everyone else. And those arms…" She trailed off without noticing.
I smirked and crossed my arms. "Archery is just as related to strength as it is to hand-eye coordination. If one expects to implement it in a fight, perhaps even more."
"Don't tell you've also signed up for the melee competition?" Asked the girl with an amused smile. "Careful to not have your big head torn off your shoulders." Her black hair blew in the wind as she shook her head with a small hint of condescension.
"Deaths are allowed in the matches, true, but are still considered rare, so I wouldn't worry for the participants." I looked over at the girl with my transmuted green eyes and smiled. "I like my chances better though." Turning back to the front of the line where people were slowly being let into the archery field. "Besides, since the Archery Competition is only shooting at targets, it shouldn't be a problem for me to win both competitions."
"My my, not that humble for a peasant. So what's your name, bicep boy?" Asked the girl with a pretty smile. "Just in case I have to tell the guards who the dead giant is."
"I don't have a proper name, so you won't have trouble remembering it. From where I'm from, we take the name of our profession. Just call me Fighter."
The girl laughed and covered her lips with her delicate fingers. "Really? Where that sil… I mean, curious place might be?"
I adjusted my quiver back and shrugged. "Far Far Away."
The girl laughed as her two friends continued to smirk.
"What can I say…" I started stretching. "We're not a very known community, and like most of my people, wherever I am is home enough to me." I turned to the girls, lifted my helmet visor and revealed a surprisingly comely face. "Who knows, maybe after today many people will have some interest in learning more about it after all."
"You sure are a funny lad, despite all seriousness." The girl stood up straight and crossed her arms, slightly taken aback by my looks. "Well, my name is Arianne Martell, and these are two of my cousins." Arianne gestured to the two girls next to her. "This is Obara and Nymeria. We've all come to see the tourney alongside our families."
I faked a look of surprise as I bowed to the girls. "My ladies. It's a pleasure to meet the Princesses of Dorne."
"I should have known you'd recognize us by my last name." Arianne winked at me and was about to speak more, but Nymeria patted her shoulder and whispered something into her ear. Arianne looked reluctant at first, but nodded nonetheless. "Well, we have to go back to the viewing area to see our parents, so if you manage to live past today and not hurt yourself, we might see each other again."
I nodded. "I look forward to it, my lady."
Arianne winked again and walked off with her cousins, looking back at me once before the crowd blocked her view.
"Good luck…Fighter." She said without leaving me the opportunity to reply.
—————————————————————
"You sure were interested in that foreign peasant…" Muttered Nymeria with a knowing smile on her face. "Sure, he was cute and had a nice body, but he's not a highborn and your father will be angry if you associate yourself with anyone like him."
Obara nodded along, agreeing with her half-sister with a grunt. "Besides, that man might remind him of that cruel giant. And his features…"
"I've never heard of this Far Far Away place. Most likely a bastard of the Westerlands." Pointed out Nymeria.
Arianne smiled and shrugged. "I don't know why, but I found him quite fun to talk to, and he's not like some of the other men we've met who are all either too shy or too cocky." She licked her lips and smiled at her cousins, who were like her sisters. "And did you see his muscles?"
Nymeria giggled and hugged Arianne's arm. "You are way too much like our father, too horny for your own good."
Arianne blushed a little and lightly slapped her cousin on her arm.
"I mean, you're only thirteen years old and you're a princess, so you shouldn't act so rowdy around boys like that." Nymeria lectured her.
"I am the heiress of Dorne, so I should have the right to choose my man." Arianne bit her lips and looked back to see that the crowd had blocked her view of the man who identified as Fighter. "I'll choose my own husband, but it's not to say that I can't have some fun beforehand."
Nymeria shook her head with a smile while Obama rolled her eyes. "I love you, Ari."
The three girls continued to bicker and giggle as they walked back to the pavilion where their fathers were awaiting their return.
They passed by many strands of merchants of all sorts, some of which were from Dorne.
It was the first time the girls had left their small corner of Dorne.
Their fathers wanted them to meet their cousin, and possibly legitimate Queen, Rhaenys, and perhaps even see the world outside of Dorne with their own eyes.
They didn't know what to make out of the eight years old Rhaneys for now, but their first encounter could be described as a friendly reminder of their blood ties.
Besides, so far King's Landing was very appealing to all three of them, as even the stench wasn't as bad as they had been told about.
Arianne had been very excited to travel all the way to King's Landing with her best friends and cousins, and it had been a great trip.
The pavilion soon came into view, and the noise began to die down as they walked back to the Dorne Royal Family area.
The high-class people were all rather quiet compared to the thousands of betting civilians, save the several people in the Lannister area, the Imp and few others, if Arianne saw correctly.
Her father, Prince Doran, sat next to his own brother, Prince Oberyn, as they watched the recently started Archery Competition.
They both left their female companion back in Dorne, much to her Uncle Oberyn's chagrin, but her father had insisted that they remain seen as a proper and elegant family, and Prince's Oberyn's sexual craze needed to disappear during their stay.
Arianne was amused, she had always been quite close to her uncle, perhaps that was why she had also found herself desiring the warmth of the opposite sex.
She had occasionally seen her uncle and one of his many women engage in passion, several times in their main courtyard if she remembered correctly.
Prince Doran had been quite angry at his brother and had banned him from the courtyard for a fortnight, but it was far too little repercussion to deter the Red Viper from putting the gardens to good use, as he would say.
"I wonder what that Fighter fella would do?" Muttered Nymeria as she lazily rested her head onto Arianne's shoulder when she was out of Prince's Doran's sight. "Despite his height, he doesn't appear to be that old, so how good can he be?"
Arianne shrugged as she chuckled. "I can still see him even with all these people surrounding him."
"That's because he's a freak." Obara grinned mockingly as she sat arms crossed, ignoring Arianne's stare.
Even if she still loved both of her cousins, the Dornish princess knew that Obara could be such a jerk sometimes.
—————————————————————
The archery area was one of the larger sections in the tourney, second to only the melee area.
It was a large grass field with many targets installed at various distances from the archer line.
The first row of targets was only several meters in front of the archers.
Fifteen archers lined up at once and tried for their shot at the target, and the one best result would remain for the second round with further targets.
There were quite a few people in the competition, so even fourteen people eliminated at each draw, the event went on for quite some time.
From the distance, Arianne couldn't really see the precise results of the archers (she and her family were sitting on the right side of the pavilion, and the archery field was on the left side of the arena), but she could tell that 'Fighter' hadn't taken his turn yet.
However, she didn't have to wait long.
When the next line of archers lined up she clearly saw someone that was bigger than the rest and had a head of golden hair.
With his cheap looking healm nearby his feet, he held his thick bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver, preparing to let loose on his target at the call of the judge.
"Is that him?" Asked Obara as she sat forward and squinted her eyes.
Arianne smiled and nodded. "Yes, that's him."
The young princess resisted the urge to giggle as she watched 'Fighter' stand next to experienced men who were all almost a head shorter than him, he looked out of place in the line.
"He's the only one in the competition that appears to be a peasant." Obara remarked mockingly.
Nymeria shook her head and lightly patted Arianne's face. "Stop staring at him with that pretty smile on your face, your father is going to notice it for sure."
Arianne immediately turned away and looked at her father several rows above her before glaring back at her cousin.
"I'm serious, you have that look my father would have when he sees his women." Nymeria giggled and nudged Arianne with her shoulder. "Somebody is smitten over a peasant!"
"I-AM-NOT-SMITING-OVER-ANYONE!" Arianne loudly announced.
Nymeria quickly hugged her cousin's arm and snuggled closer to her, ignoring some looks they were getting. "Hey, are you blushing?"
"Shut up!" Said Arianne, trying to keep her voice at a moderate volume. "Just watch the damn competition!"
The Dornish princess looked back at the archery field and noticed that the round had already finished.
She quickly sat up taller to see where the Fighter got sent after he lost, but much to her shock she saw him standing with the other winner of the rounds.
He looked unimpressed and confident beside the other competitors as he waited for the other rounds to finish.
"Wow…he actually made it through the first round." Arianne remarked in surprise.
Nymeria smiled and sipped on her summer wine. "I guess he's not as hopeless as we've thought."
Obara grunted and rested back on her seat. "Well, there are still plenty of rounds coming…" She looked over at Arianne, who was still sitting tall and focusing on the match. "Do you think he can actually win this thing?"
"I highly doubt it." Nymeria, the ever realist or cynic, spoke what Arianne had wanted to say, but for some reason the Dornish princess was compelled to think otherwise.
There was something about 'Fighter', other than his special features and size, that made her want him to win.
Fighter once again stood on an elevated plank of wood that supported the weight of fifteen archers, it was the second round of the competition.
From what the judges had told them, there would be five rounds, each round a number of contestants would be eliminated, and in the fifth round there would only be two archers left.
With each round the targets would be placed further and further away, until the last round when the targets would be all the way on the other side of the field.
—————————————————————
Looking to his sides, the transmuted Crown Prince noticed that some people were looking at him with strange glances, no doubt wondering how he made it into the second round.
He merely chuckled at their ignorance.
His marksman skills were his pride, even without a crossbow.
"Alright you lot, draw your arrows!" One of the judges ordered while raising his arm.
All fifteen men drew the arrows back and aligned their eyes with the center of the target, several meters further than the first target.
"And release!" The judge quickly lowered his arm, signaling for everyone to take their shots.
Durrandon's fingers confidently released his hold, and his arrow shot out, piercing the air with a small glint on the iron tip.
His eyes followed it, the few seconds that it took to travel to the target, and remained locked onto it when it struck the target.
It was just as he expected of himself.
The arrowhead was supplanted right in the center of the target, earning him a perfect score.
With a smile and a knowing expression, the transmuted Crown prince nodded at the other archers and walked over to the winners waiting area again, waiting for round three.
Now more people were giving him strange looks, some of them even looked shocked.
It confused Durrandon, he had never shot a bow in his previous life, but now hitting a target at such a distance was extremely easy, so he didn't understand why so many people were surprised he did it and why so many others couldn't do it.
'The System will continue to make that gap grow even wider.' He realized.
Time went on as steady as it always had, and the transmuted Crown Prince passed round after round.
Never once had his arrows hit any place but the dead center of the target, and he was attracting the attention of almost everyone watching.
Durrandon continued to outmatch men with actual combat experience and reputation with a bow and arrow.
But regardless of the other's outcome, he kept emerging victorious in the matches.
Some random man might also hit the dead center of the target, but when they were examined, Durrandon's was either closer to the center or shot deeper into the target.
Some people were starting to place last minute bets on him winning, and he could swear he heard people asking for his name in the crowd.
Then, in no time at all, it was the final round.
The only two men left were Fighter of Far Far Away and Jalabhar Xho, the exiled Summer Islander Prince.
"Did that man really make it to the final round?" Ser Jaime Lannister asked as he stood next to his fellow Kingsguard, Ser Barristan, as they awaited the start of the jousting competition. "He looks too green to be able to draw a bow, much less aim it properly. I was about to recommend getting him a warhammer and having him destroy the targets."
"Size or age doesn't really matter in regards to talent and skill. Trust me, I know a few things about that." Ser Barristan remarked before turning to the competition and stared at 'Fighter' in wonder. "Having said that… that one really strikes me as odd…he looks relaxed and calm and completely confident. Almost like…" The renowned Kingsguard crossed his arms and leaned back against a wooden post of the pavilion. "Very interesting."
Just above the two Kingsguard was the royal family.
The King himself sat on the elevated area of the pavilion and he watched with great interest at the last round of the competition.
In his years he had never seen a peasant pull anything more than the reins of a mule, much less make it to the final rounds of a tourney of this caliber.
Especially since the young man looked to be a natural born combatant, though his kinship to the very talented civilian that worked on his favorite Brothel was something else intriguing the King.
But this so-called 'Fighter' appearance did not reflect his skill and accuracy with the bow.
From his posture and confident expression, he acted like a highborn soldier with years of training, or at least like a smart man with a keen sense of observation.
A worthy opponent for the Clegane brothers.
Either way, Robert was rooting for the young man.
"One thousand gold dragons on the big guy!" Announced the King to Tyrion.
"Your son has already bet on him, but you are welcome to stack on his bet." Tyrion chuckled and shrugged while gesturing to the servant to record the King's bet.
The Imp was also impressed with the man known as Fighter, but he wasn't confident enough to invest in him.
If both the Crown Prince and the King were sure that the foreigner combatant would win against the Summer Islander Prince, then he wasn't going to say otherwise.
All the way on the other side of the pavilion, Prince Oberyn chuckled in amusement and crossed his leg over his other.
He had heard the Crown Prince and King's bet and had wanted to follow, but instead decided to follow Tyrion's way and play it safe.
As interesting as the so-called 'Fighter' was, he wasn't about to lose any gold over a possible bastard of the Westernlands.
—————————————————————
"By the Great River Rhoyne, I can't believe he's actually in the final round!" Cried Obara as she sat up, fully awake and looking at the scene with great interest. "Men like him should have plenty of better options than simply shooting sticks from afar."
For the past while, Arianne and her cousins had been paying their undivided attention to the competition, getting increasingly tense as 'Fighter' made it further and further to the top.
They found themselves cheering for the artist, much to Prince Oberyn's amusement, and Arianne had been leaning forward so much that she might fall the pavilion soon.
"If he wins a lot of people are going to lose money." Nymeria said with a smile on her face. "It would be a huge upset."
Arianne smiled and steadied her breathing in anticipation. "I hope he wins…"
"Of course you do…" Teased Obara while Nymeria hugged Arianne's arms, holding her blushing cousin close.
"Shut up!" Arianne retorted.
—————————————————————
"Ready your bows!" Announced the main judge as he stood behind the two remaining archers. "Draw your arrows!"
Jalabhar Xho, a man in his early twenties, stood next to his towering opponent.
His arrow was drawn and he was prepared to fire, just awaiting the call from the judge.
Droplets of sweat dripped down his brows and onto his chin, ten thousand gold dragons were at stake at the moment.
With such money he could accomplish his dream to win back his throne, enjoying the rest of his days in luxury and warmth of a place that wasn't affected by the frequent winters, but he had someone standing in his way.
A dark horse competitor who managed to outmatch every opponent he came across.
'May the best archer win!' Thought the Summer Islander as he resisted the urge to look at his adversary, wondering how nervous he must also be at the moment.
However, contrary to the Summer Islander's belief, the transmuted crown prince was quite calm, his arms were relaxed and his fingers were still, his breathing was quiet and steady, while his eyes were locked on target.
This really was no challenge for him, even with such distance, thanks to his Sharpshooter perk and multiple aiming features, no matter how far, given the right aim any target could be hit.
Durrandon was more than used to moving targets, even amidst the underground darkness of a tunnel without torches.
Even though focusing on his second class transmutation spell kind of made up for it, a real challenge would be to shoot an enemy's approaching arrow on horseback with only one arrow in his quiver while blindfolded.
But that would be a stretch.
As it stood, a nonmoving target while standing on a firm platform during a sunny day with clear skies and tamed wind was absolutely ridiculous, but apparently to the people in King's Landing, worth ten thousand gold dragons.
"Release!" The judge shouted for all to hear.
Durrandon's fingers released his hold, and just like before, his arrow sailed through the winds and across the field.
As if time had slowed around him, Durrandon's eyes focused on the tail of his arrow and watched it become closer and closer to the target, the marked spot of the center becoming larger.
Then, one of his favorite sounds was heard, the sounds of the arrow hitting directly at the target.
Once again, his arrow had planted itself right at the center of the target.
A smile came onto his face as the crowd roared in applause, but then he noticed his opponent was cheering as well.
"Judges need a ruling!" It was declared for all to hear.
The three judges made their way over to the targets, and then the transmuted Crown Prince saw.
Both his and his opponent's arrows had struck the dead-center of the target.
It appeared that Jalabhar had noticed the same thing and had stopped his cheering, instead bowing in respect towards his adversary.
The entire crowd, including the high-borns on the pavilion, were silent.
All looking over at the judges and waiting for their ruling.
"What's the result?!" Cried a loud voice from the pavilion, and people looked over and saw the King standing up and looking over at the judges.
The main judge ran over to the King and bowed.
"Your Grace, the two arrows had struck the exact same spot and were equally deep into the target, so we rule that a second arrow must be fired."
"Alright then, let's get going!" Ordered the King as the judge scrambled back.
The judges all stood behind the two contestants this time, and all were paying their undivided attention to the targets far ahead.
The old arrows were still attached to the targets as the second arrows were drawn.
"Draw your arrows!" Both competitors heard it being announced.
Jalabhar exhaled deeply as he drew his arm back and aimed for the target again.
"Release!" All the judges shouted.
The Summer Islander watched his arrow follow the same path as his previous one, his heart started to beat faster as adrenaline slowed his perception.
The arrow was traveling painfully slow as it neared its target, but it was looking very promising.
He could practically smell the gold coming to him and feel the tightness of the woman he was going to get after regaining his title.
Then his arrow finally struck the target, very much like his previous shot, landing mere hairs away from the first arrow.
Two arrows were attached to his target, one right on the target and one a hair's width beside it, but when he looked over to see how the transmuted Prince did, his dreams shattered like his hope.
Durrandon's target had two arrows attached to it, but the first one had been split in half and was sprawled out like a whore's open legs.
The second arrow had hit the exact same spot as the first, and it split the first arrow in half.
The second arrow had pushed the first arrow's head deeper into the target and forced its own head into the target enough to remain stuck to it.
He had struck the dead center bullseye twice in a row.
"We have a winner!" Cried the main judge as he walked over to Fighter and lifted his arm into the air. "Probably the most skilled archer I have ever seen!"
The crowd roared into a phenomenal applause and people on the pavilion were on their feet cheering, one of the loudest among them came from the three Dornish girls to the right side.
The King himself was clapping for the supposed foreigner as were countless other lords and knights.
All the while, Durrandon bowed to both crowds without showing surprise on his transmuted face.
"I can't believe it!" Cried Obara loudly as she clapped hard for the man she had just been making fun of. "That brute actually did it!"
Arianne was on her feet and waved her arms around in celebration.
She felt extremely happy for the competitor and wanted to run down and congratulate him, but decided that it could wait.
The foreigner still needed to receive his prize of ten thousand gold dragons.
"You actually did it, Fighter!" She whispered to herself, still chuckling at the silliness of his supposed name.
"Damn, I should have betted on him!" Muttered Prince Oberyn as he looked over at the King, who was laughing and raising his wine glass at the winner.
Still focusing on his transmutation spell, Durrandon bowed low for the King before the judges all turned to him.
"Please follow us to get your prize money, if you want, we could have several guards escort you directly to the bank of King's Landing for safety measures."
The young competitor nodded, shaking hands with Jalabhar Xho while sharing a few words before following with a casual expression.
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The Tourney in celebration of the Crown Prince's sixth name day was a luxury that the Kingdom strained to provide.
Especially now, after the sudden shift of the seasons that came after the rebellion was over.
Ever since the end of the Targaryen Dynasty and the start of the Baratheon Era, the Kingdom had been burning through gold.
The three million gold dragons inside the castle were being spent on the many feasts, tourneys and ill-planned campaigns the Kingdom had issued in the past five years.
Counting pennies, as King Robert would say, was not worth his time and there was nothing of concern, but everyone else knew better.
Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, perhaps understood the situation better than anyone else.
The middle-aged man would try to deter the King every time he suggested an expenditure that they just couldn't afford, but the Hand knew it was all for naught.
Jon Arryn had known the King since Robert was a boy, and that boy never changed.
King Robert would do whatever he wanted to do, and no one's words would change his mind, not even his Hand and Mentor.
The most recent tourney, the Tourney for the Prince's Name Day, was another one of Robert's ideas and Jon had tried to persuade him otherwise, but the result was identical to all the rest.
The champions' winning alone would total to forty five thousand gold dragons, and the organization cost of hosting the tourney would be another dozen of thousands.
It was still possible for the Kingdom to afford such extravagance, but, as expected… his trusted Master of Coin contacted Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock and negotiated some deals.
Jon Arryn had never been to any of the loan negotiations, but he would always imagine the old Lannister having a mocking grin on his twisted face as he agreed to the loan terms.
The Lannisters were slowly buying the Kingdom and they knew the King wouldn't stop soon…it pained Jon to see all their lives' work become so pathetic.
As if adding insult to injury, the champions of the tourney would usually be Lords or sons of Lords, so the gold they borrowed would just trickle down to another rich family.
To make matters even worse, Jaime Lannister, the son of Tywin Lannister, would always be one of the Knights to win, so Tywin Lannister's gold would just fall back into his pockets while the Kingdom would still be in his debt.
The more Jon thought about such nonsense the more he wanted to ignore the tourney; he could always stay in his office and try to think of other ways to deter his King's future nonsense, but Robert had ordered him to come along and watch because, according to the King, he needed to relax more and he would learn how to relax by watching the tourney.
Jon had sighed and shook his head at the time, however, to his surprise Robert wasn't exactly wrong.
"Well done!" Shouted the King loudly as he downed his glass of summer wine, happy despite having just lost a considerable quantity of gold dragons, though less than he would have had if not changing his bet at the last minute.
Jon couldn't help but smile as he looked down at the man who just won the Archery Competition.
Despite his height, the lad looked very young, but he managed to defeat hundreds of other archers in the tourney, including many children of lords and knights.
A commoner winning the prize gold was one thing Jon hadn't expected, but it made him feel better.
At least some of the gold wouldn't be going to the already fat pockets of lords or knights.
Tyrion smiled back at the grinning crown prince and bowed slightly. "Congratulations, my prince. That is a most unexpected outcome and a good wager." Tyrion held his wine loosely to his lips as he sat back lazily on his seat. "That man was certainly an oddity, I've never seen anyone split an arrow, much less from so far away." Looking over to the many lords and commanders, Tyrion could already predict that many of them would try to recruit the boy before long. "He's already a much better archer than many we have in Casterly Rock." Tyrion looked a few rows above him and saw his lord father, Tywin Lannister looking at the winner of the Archery contest.
He didn't look all that interested, but there was a sense of intrigue in his narrowed eyes, something that Tyrion Lannister passed off as praise.
"Jon!" Shouted the King loudly. "He's almost as good as you were back in the day!"
Jon Arryn smiled and nodded. "Yes, Your Grace." The Hand bowed slightly to the King before looking back at the young champion. "It is wonderful to see such young champions come from the common people. I am growing tired of seeing the sons of lords and knights winning such tourneys."
The King laughed and raised his glass to his old friend. "Well said! My first born was betting on it."
"It is as you said, my Lord Hand, but it does raise a question." Lord Mace Tyrell pondered as he sat on the left platform from the Royal Family. "I hired the best teachers in Westeros to train my second son, and even though he is doing quite well, I doubt he has the same skill with a bow and arrow as that young man over there."
Jon Arryn and Robert nodded, both having heard of the young prodigy of the Tyrell Family, Garlan.
"I wonder how that young man managed to get so good, what sort of training did he undergo?" Mace Tyrell remarked.
"I would assume hunting." Prince Oberyn suddenly spoke as he walked up to the other lords. "I've met many people during my travels that are very good archers and most of them hunt for their food." The Dornish prince sipped on his wine as he looked at the King. "Moving rabbits and wolves are much harder to hit compared to stationary targets."
Robert chuckled and placed his cup down. "I believe there to be good merit in that theory, but I've been hunting for a good part of my life and I can't split an arrow like that!" The King laughed as his squire gave him more wine. "That big guy is much better than me at shooting."
"Maybe some of us should take that young man in." Suggested Stannis Baratheon as he stood next to his brother, waiting for the melee to start. "Such talent should not be wasted."
"Yes, I would very gladly take him under my house." Mace Tyrell spoke as he nodded at the King's brother.
"I'm afraid I must fight you for him, Lord Tyrell." Replied Prince Oberyn with a smile on his face. "Such young talent is hard to find these days. And Dorne can always use someone like him."
At the same time many people around the prince wondered if the Dornish prince wanted the young man as a soldier or a lover.
Oberyn had a rather promiscuous reputation, even with men.
Though the doubt relied upon the fact that the young man named Fighter looked very much like an offspring between both Lannister and Clegane houses.
"My Lords, please refrain from discussing such matters so soon. We still don't know if the young man doesn't already have someone supporting him." Durrandon spoke with an unusual smile and sly tone of voice. "From my knowledge, this individual will also participate in the melee competition. Perhaps we might surprise ourselves again."
"Indeed." Remarked Mace Tyrell, the King and the others listened with interest.
"Yes, my Lords." Tyrion replied as he nodded and chuckled. "Perhaps it was not skill, but merely extreme luck."
The one passing out as Durrandon chuckled and sat back on his seat before announcing. "I would like to stack my winnings on him again! That's two thousand gold dragons on, if I'm not mistaken."
Already expecting another chuckle from Alysse, the surprise came from the fact that she wasn't the only one to find the name of this individual quite silly.
The King had just made a connection between him and the artist he enjoyed spending his nights watching perform his show.
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Arianne wanted to see 'Fighter' one last time before he left, and she found him near the place she first met him.
There were hundreds of people congratulating him, mainly other common people and civilians, and some of the other marksmen were patting him on the shoulder, though many others shot dirty glances at him.
Arianne saw a chest placed up on the archery stage and heard someone whispering about it being full of gold, so she assumed it was the prize Fighter earned by winning the archery competition.
But she was curious as to why he was walking away from his gold and towards the other arena.
Only then did she recall that he was going to fight in the melee as well.
"Care to tell me where you learned how to shoot a bow and arrow like that?" Asked Arianne loudly as she once again spoke with the transmuted Crown Prince over a wooden fence.
Durrandon looked genuinely surprised when the girl started to shout at him the moment she walked up to him.
Her pretty face displayed clear curiosity as she pointed her finger at his face and stepped her bejeweled lace shoes on the ground, her silky black hair was flung from one side to the other as she continued to verbally investigate everything about him, not stopping for an entire minute.
"You are just too incredible." Arianne finally stopped and breathed in heavily.
"Please, my Lady, calm down for a moment." Durrandon smiled and placed his quiver over his shoulder, subtly flexing his bicep. "We'll have plenty of time to chat once the tournament has ended."
Arianne's face turned red as she breathed in and tried to speak. "I-i will hold you to that promise!"
The transmuted Crown Prince nodded and crossed his arms. "I must say that I am flattered, though. I never thought the most beautiful girl in Dorne would be interested in the little old me."
Arianne grew redder, but for a different reason, and still couldn't speak properly. "I-Am-Not-Interested-In-You!"
"Really?" Asked Durrandon with a stoic tone that made him look like a dense protagonist. "Your one minute interrogation suggested differently." Arianne tried to retort but couldn't think of anything clever to say before he spoke again. "But seriously…You don't have to worry about not seeing me again, I know how to take care of myself."
Arianne sighed before crossing her arms and stepped back. "Whatever..."
"I'll see you again, my Lady." Durrandon concluded before walking away.
The princess turned around after seeing Durrandon's confident posture. "I hope so."
Watching as the Dornish princess walked back to the pavilion, he was honestly surprised that he had actually managed to charm her without even trying.
Now Durrandon had to prepare himself for the Melee.
He had learnt to wield a sword around a couple of years ago, but it felt so much longer given how far his skill had evolved.
A blade was like an extension of his arm now and he was confident that no one could defeat him if he went all out, through skill, perks and his system's cheats if needed.
In theory, he could compete with horses, have keener senses like his cat Shadow, lift a grown man off his feet and stay active without sustenance without feeling exhausted for much longer periods of time.
No one stood a chance against him during his Night Raids and he wondered if anyone amongst the gathered warriors could even pose a challenge for him.
Especially if they banded together.
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DURRANDON'S POV
I walked towards the waiting line for the melee much like the one with archery, but there were even more people signed up for the melee.
There were almost three hundred people, and all of them had brought their own weapons and equipment.
From where I was, I could see warhammers, long swords, broadswords, maces, battle axes, daggers, even some with throwable projectiles as secondary weaponry.
All sorts of people had gathered for the event.
The majority of the crowd was most likely someone who just bought a weapon expecting to become famous and earn their fortune, but there were also young knights and experienced squires.
Many people had even brought their own armor and shields, which placed those that didn't in a distinct disadvantage.
There was a large waiting area for the combatants, and a series of large benches for them to prepare for battle.
Many had already sat down and were staring at me as I walked in, wondering what someone without a proper chest piece of armor was doing in the melee tent.
As the saying goes, size doesn't matter when you are flat on your back.
And what's the quickest way of taking someone out other than aiming for their vital organs in the center of mass?
I just ignored them and sat down on one of the empty benches, subtly retrieving a blade from my INVENTORY and holding it in my hands.
It was a simple arming sword, made of fine quality steel, an expensive weapon for a common young man who was mostly seen as a mere peasant, but it still was nothing in comparison to my twin Valyrian Gladius with their magical effects.
Seeking a proper challenge, I opted for the common castle-forged steel that I've personally crafted under the tutelage of Tobho, leaving both my Valyrian weapons and tuned bronze armor stored in my Inventory.
'Time for my second victory today.' Was my thought as I balanced and wiped my blade with a cloth, momentarily considering making use of the paralyzing poison I was capable of brewing.
"Not fond of armor, are you?" Asked a man in his mid twenties with shaved head and red robes on his armor. "You know that a person can still live without their hands and feet. But a stab deep enough into the chest, and I don't care how muscular you are, you will be falling to the ground in no time."
The one that spoke had finely crafted heavy armor on and held his sword by his hip, looking like an uncommon red priest, if there ever was one that wasn't, so much so that he still reeked of wine and whores.
Having spent several nights in Chataya's place, I knew those smells well enough by memory.
Having my face hidden under my helmet, I shook my head before shrugging and replied. "Wasn't satisfied with my work yet, so I left the main segment of it to finish the job later. Besides, it makes things more fair for the other."
"Hahaha! Well said! You wear your own craft when it reaches your expectation. I like you!" The man chuckled and sat down next to me before immediately starting to oil his sword with a strange substance. "This is a man's game after all, those afraid of dying should simply give up while there's still time for them."
"Thanks for the compliment, and warning, but I think I'll be fine." I replied calmly.
The man chuckled and nodded. "So what's your name... eh, sellsword?"
"Fighter… of Far Far Away." I said with my fake gruff voice as I looked at the familiar man with his sword in hand, almost treating him as a friend. "What about you, stranger?"
"The name's Thoros… of Myr, as people are used to calling me. Just a Red Priest looking forward to fifteen thousand gold dragons." The familiar man replied, sounding friendly enough as he offered his hand. "Fighter, eh? It would be funnier if you went by the title of Warrior…hehe. Like one of the Seven." Thoros sheathed his sword and took a big gulp from his wineskin. "You said you're from Far Far Away, eh?… Ha! I heard the winner of the archery was also from such a place. Friend of yours I suppose?"
"Rumors do run rampant." I grunted back while strapping my arming sword back on my scabbard. "But if you must know, that was me."
"I must confess, if you manage to impress me like you appear to have in the archery contest, I might even try to get a trip there soon, Westeros is getting a little too bland for my taste." Thoros told me.
"Well, good luck to you then." I said standing up. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up for those gold dragons. I don't plan on losing the Melee."
Thoros chuckled and continued to oil his sword. "You are one weird foreigner."
"Look who's talking." I remarked casually while walking away and joining the gathered crowd.
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Three hundred people all looked up at three judges, just like the archery event, and they collected names from everyone.
Instructions were explained to everyone and the melee was broken down into parts.
There would be an elimination round in the start.
The arena was designed for a large and crowded battle, so all three hundred would be inside the arena, fighting until only eight people were still standing.
Then those eight would draw for the fighting orders, and from there it would be a one on one match between them until there was only one man left.
That one man would be the winner and would receive fifteen thousand gold dragons.
Durrandon liked its simplicity, it was a nice and easy way to eliminate the weaker men, but perhaps he could have it shorter since he was running on a fixed schedule thanks to his Transmuted form.
Having such a large group in a mass battle royale could create a very bloody scene, but could also force some of them to work in groups.
It was a nice way to select certain individuals from out of the crowd, since they might not be the strongest, but they certainly would be the survivors.
The crowd of three hundred was separated into four groups and placed behind four gates that led into the battle arena.
The arena itself was several times as large as the archery field, and even with five hundred men there would be free space for a number of battles.
The ground of the arena was plain dirt mixed with sand, and there was a three meter tall wall surrounding the whole area.
The people in the common viewing area would have a hard time watching the fights, but the high-borns on the pavilion would be able to watch perfectly.
Durrandon could at least look up at them perfectly, sighting the royal family on their seats, and Rhaenys transmuted to appear as himself besides Alysse.
His spymaster in the making had been covering for him up till now, but the spell wasn't supposed to last for much longer, so casting it again on both of them soon was necessary.
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(07/10/2021)
(07/04/2022)
*Hope this chapter is of your liking.
Anything you wish to ask, feel free to do so.
Check out my auxiliary chapter if you still haven't.
Thanks as always for your attention and please be safe.
Any problems with my writing, just point them out and I will correct them as soon as possible.
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It helped me a lot to create my story. I really like it! Check it out!
