Chapter 9

Tourney at Harrenhall

Day 4

I finally did it. After a long day of getting dragged around by the little sundragon. I don't know if its because of the location of Harrenhall and the magic around thanks to the isle of faces I was able to add a bloodline recall enchantment to my two blades, Lady Calypso and Solitude. Now the blades can be recalled into the hands of me and my descendants by saying their names.

The tourney went on without any incidents till today which I call a win based on how fucked it can be. Today is my round to pick the melee champion for my group. The only notable person is Prince Lewyn. Easy win.

I find a peasant boy to help don my armor before picking two tourney blades and giving it a twirl. Today I officially give these men of the realm something to fear.

As the call to come to the ring of the melee many were on horseback. Craven. Its called a melee for a reason. Well no matter they need all the help they can get.

I saw Lewyn in his kingsguard armor also on the ground. Our eyes met for a fee moments before we nodded our heads at each other.

The king called for the melee to begin and immediately the crowd roared. I rushed at a Frey knight on horseback. He tried toswing a sword at me I blocked it with one sword and used the flat of the other blade to slap his chest. Flinging him off his horse to the ground. He immediately scrambled back up and tried to enter a stance but I immediately bashed him with my shoulder to the ground.

I put my sword on his neck and he yielded quite quickly. Craven.

More people are on the floor now. I catch sight of a Redfort knight and immediately engage.

There it is. The fever. Everything slows down, everything becomes quiet, sounds in the wind are able to be heard if one is listening enough.

It was no longer a fight it was a performance.

And what I show it will be.

Blades sang against each other, weave, weave, disarmed the knight, kicked him to the ground and kicked his face. He's out. Next.

Two knights fighting one another. No time to waste. Take them both on. I attack them both. A swipe at one and block the incoming strike of the other.

Slide towards the blindspot of the right, swing, he's down. The other one manages to disarm one sword in when he had a slight laspe in concentration. Slight panic but no matter. Weave, weave , weave. Block two downward strikes before kicking his knee making him stumble. As he's trying to get up he kicks his head knocking him out. Picks up his sword. Next.

The numbers have whittled down to eight. Can't let anyone team up. Whittle them down cause commotion make it a free for all. That's the path to victory. Even if I don't know these most of them remaining except Lewyn. They must be decent enough to give me trouble together. Breathe. Go.

I stormed into one with a manticore sigil. He strikes hard but not fast enough. Too much weight. Lets move this bout near another to cause chaos.

I kept dodging backwards near another fight before dodging left and causing the knight to miss before kicking him into another knight with two towers.As they both yielded while on the floor I immediately bent low and swept the standing knight of his feet. Before making him yield too.

It remained Lewyn and I on the field. My eyes are a bit hazy from tiredness but its okay. I can manage it.

Lewyn's spear tried to impale me immediately but I slide out of the way before dodging backwards to get out of the range. Started a flurry of attacks with two which was swifty deflected by his shield.

Two of them kept exchanging blows, constantly engaging and disengaging. It felt like hours to them but it was about five minutes of high intensity combat for others.

They had never seen a melee of this intensity outside war before and they may never see it again.

Eventually Lewyn was disarmed. With two swords attacking him with just a shield he finally yielded. There was a pause before the whole place erupted.

SNOW!

SNOW!

SNOW!

SNOW!

(Rhaegar POV)

'Is Lewyn that good,Arthur? I've never seen him fight like that.'

'Nor have I. All these years I've sparred with him. He has never performed at this level. I believe its because of SnowStark.'

'How?'

'There are many names for it. In Essos the Meerenese call it the zone, the rhoynar call it the pull. Here in Westeros its called the Fever. Or battle fever. Once in a while a man during battle all his senses heighten to insane degrees. His body working in sync with his mind. Make and planning steps ahead in a split second. They say its the warrior's blessing. But as any blessing it is hard to come by.'

I mulled over that. So that means we as humans are not performing to our potential normally. I wonder if it also extends to magic. Maybe I'll be able to finally make sense of my dreams.

'So we just saw Prince Lewyn at peak performance?'

'Yes and we may never see it again. The fever is what really separates the genius and prodigy swordsmen from the legendary. The legendary ones have figured out a way to condition their body into that feverish state at any time. Like young Jaime is beginning to grasp it. I grasped it during my fight with the Smiling Knight.'

'And Snow?'

'He has it too. He entered the state before he got into battle. As soon as the match started. He started.'

So we have a person that has the skills of a legendary knight hidden in the snows of the North. Its too late to gain his loyalty to me but he has love for Elia and Rhaenys so he won't go against me.

Adjustments…. must be made to the plan.