Finals

Aerion eyed the ground beneath his feet, he was sitting calmly in the squires tent, his breathing had calmed down. The sounds of the final free-for-all rang through the grounds, the smallfolk shouting in excitement.

This was the last squire free-for-all. After that, the tourney bracket would begin. He'd be fighting the squire who won the second free-for-all. Aerion hadn't watched the matches; he had focused on resting, saving his strength for the last two fights.

The tent flapped open, his eyes flicking over to the entrance only to blink in surprise. 

His uncle walked over casually, staying standing up as he dropped his hand onto Aerions shoulder. "You'll be fighting a Lannister" he said quietly "He's good, an aggressive fighter, he's weak on the the counter"

Aerion nodded, his elbows resting on his knees "Thank you" he replied softly, his mind racing.

"You've done a good job" his uncle said as his grip tightened on Aerions "You're making Lord Bracken proud" he said seriously, grabbing a large banner onto his lap.

Aerion looked up, his eyes slightly wide but his uncle was already leaving. His eyes shot down to his lap, a bright yellow dornish scarf.

He lifted it, feeling the soft, thin fabric in his hands before placing it over his head. The scarf draped loosely around his shoulders, falling just to his chest. 

Embroidered in the centre was a vivid red stallion, standing out sharply against the yellow. The contrast between the bright fabric and the dark black armour and leather beneath it was striking.

He put on his helm. 

—-

His opponent was tall, clad in gleaming red armour. Gold lions snarled from the pauldrons at his shoulders, their manes carved in amazing detail, glinting in the sunlight. 

A strip of rich green silk was wrapped around his wrist—a lady's favour. Aerion scoffed under his breath. Who seeks for a lady's favour in a squires' tourney?

He climbed over the top of the wooden fence, the cheers of the small folk loud, the nobles watching in interest. A loud horn blew, both squires turning their head to the Kingsbox, the sound of the smallfolk quietened. 

"Lords and Ladies! Knights and brave men of the realm! Bear witness as strength and honour are tested in this trial!" From the King's Box, the herald's voice boomed across the tourney grounds, silencing the last of the murmurs. 

A second, louder blast of the horn echoed, signalling the start.

The Lannister took a measured step forward, his movements slow, almost predatory. Aerion's muscles tensed as his grip tightened around his sword. 

The Lannister's sword was already raised, the edge gleaming in the midday sun. Aerion waited, his pulse steady but his mind racing, ready for the inevitable clash.

The taller squire pounced, swinging his sword down with force. Aerion reacted like a viper, his sword flashing up to meet the strike, deflecting the blow with a sharp clang of steel.

In the same fluid movement, he twisted, planting his left foot as he aimed a quick slash toward the Lannister's side. The squire barely managed to parry, his defence shaky but his aggression returning as he pressed forward.

Their swords clashed, both of them reading each other's movements. The Lannister was strong, but slow to counter. Aerion saw the hesitation and knew his uncle had been right. He pressed forward, confidence growing with each exchange of blades.

Then Aerion struck, stepping forward deflecting a rapid swing of the Lannisters blade with ease. The Lannister quickly tried to backtrack, not before looking down first.

They knew about his tripping trick then, so he must have watched him fight in the free-for-all. 

Interesting.

Aerion leaned back out of the way of a swing again, the blade missing his helm by inches. He pushed forward, closing the space between them quickly. The Lannister quickly glanced down making sure his foot wasn't hooked around his ankle.

Aerion's sword swung with a ringing blow, the impact echoing as it struck the Lannister's helm.

The Lannister stumbled backwards, as his left hand rose to adjust his helm. Aerion let him, then pressed his advantage. Getting back in close range, he prepared a large swing, using the same tactic.

Only for the Lannister to step back, without looking down, his instincts to get out of the blades range overtaking his discipline. Aerions hooked foot tripped the Lannister, sending him sprawling to the ground with a startled shout.

The Lannister tried to scramble backwards, Aerion stopped that as he harshly used his foot to expose the Lannisters neck, the tanned skin showing between the plates of red and gold armour. Cold steel touched skin, and the Lannister froze, eyes widening in sudden panic.

Aerions eyes were narrowed and cold behind the black visor as he stared down at the exposed skin, his sword pressing gently against the Lannisters neck.

The sun beat down on the duo, the crowd had quietened down in anticipation. Sweat lightly ran down Aerions brow.

"I yield" The Lannister muttered, his fists clenched at his side as he clenched his jaw. A moment of silence passed before Aerions foot lifted from the bottom of his jaw, allowing the Lannister to sit up.

The crowd exploded in noise, it roared akin to a dragon as the noise enveloped the fighters. Aerions hand outstretched to The Lannister who took it, Aerion bringing the taller squire to his feet.

The sound of the crowd only increased with the action. Aerion nodded to the Lannister who was adjusting his helm, his eyes quickly searching through the noble stands.

Finding his uncle stood, clapping with a large grin on his face. Aerion grinned himself, the adrenaline from the fight withdrawing as he took his helm off. His gloved hands ran through his hair as he walked into the squires tent.

The squires tent was still filled with squires that had lost in the melee, most had been watching. The younger squires looked up at his passing form with barely concealed admiration. 

His grin still pulled at his boyish face, his brown hair hanging just above his jaw as he ran his still gloved hand through the mess. 

He sat on a small bench at the edge of the tent, dropping his helm to the dirt below gently as he rested his elbows on his knees, dropping his head slightly. The joy still ran through him as he carefully put his sword underneath the bench.  

The roars of the crowd were muted in the tent, the fight between the other two squires must be happening now. Whoever wins will go to the final with him. He felt nerves start to raise in his body, his right foot tapping gently against the ground below. 

In one more fight, if he puts on a good enough show…he could get knighted by The King himself. A shiver ran down his spine at the prospect, he would be acknowledged.

'They'll kill you' he shook his head free of his uncle's words as he took a deep breath. 

—-

He stood, a servant had just approached and told him his match was ready. The man had even asked for Aerions name.

Aerion made his way through the tent, adjusting his helm with one hand while the other carried his blade. Ignoring the looks thrown his way by the other squires he lifted the tent flap.

The cheers of the crowd and the sun ran over him, his confidence rising at the cheers and shouts. His eyes flicked to the pen, his eyes widened in shock at the sight, his stride freezing for a brief moment.

The coat of arms on the armoured squire. The familiar red banner, featuring a weirwood at its centre surrounded by black ravens.

Blackwood. 

Tension coiled in Aerion's stomach as he faced the Blackwood, his gaze flickering nervously to the watching nobles. They were all watching in anticipation, Lord Bracken standing with crossed arms as he eyed the duo.

Aerion kept his stride steady even though he felt the heavy pressure just placed onto his shoulders. He was representing The Brackens. 

This silver armoured squire was representing The Blackwoods, he clenched his jaw as he hopped over the wooden fence. His eyes flicked to the noble crowd once more, almost every lord or lady of slight importance was here.

The Brackens and Blackwoods have had a bloody feud that's lasted over 2000 years.

There haven't been any real fights between the houses in almost a full decade now, of course skirmishes and the like, but nothing so…public.

His eyes locked on the Blackwood knight, the taller squire who held a longsword tightly in both hands. The man's visor was so thin that Aerion couldn't see the man behind the shadow. 

Aerion held the bastard sword in his right hand loosely, the Bracken fabric around his shoulder showing his allegiances. 

A horn sounded through the arena, the crowd quietened. Aerions heartbeat only increased, his hand clenching around the hilt of the blade. Hatred that wasn't his own burning through his body at the sight of The Blackwood.

"By the King's decree and the laws of chivalry, let this duel commence! May the best squire emerge victorious and honour be bestowed upon the bravest of them all!"

The second blast of the horn announced the beginning of the duel. The crowd's eyes locked onto the duo, the sound of their murmuring increasing. 

Aerion began to circle the taller Blackwood, his eyes locked onto his opponent as the squire took a confident step forward.

Aerion paused his eyes focused on the squire, Blackwood twirled the longsword in his hands before blindingly swinging his blade down at Aerion.

Aerion deflected the blow, feeling the harsh vibrations travel up his arms from the force of the Blackwood's strike. Aerion took a step back, his eyes widening in panic as his back hit the fence. 

He hadn't been keeping an eye out for his positioning.

A longsword slammed into Aerion's breastplate with a deafening clang, the force buckling the metal and driving him to his knees with a gasp. 

His ribs screaming in protest as he threw himself forward, barely avoiding a blow from the Blackwood, stumbling as he dragged his sword behind him. The crowd's roar grew louder, anticipating a swift end to the duel.

Aerion scrambled to his feet, narrowly dodging the next swing.

He pivoted, barely raising his blade in time to block a crushing blow that almost buckled his knees. The swing for powerful his sword almost flew out of his hands.

Aerion took another step back, his ribs throbbed with pain as he gasped for breath, narrowly dodging a vicious upward slash. 

However he pushed through the pain and used the sudden opening to his advantage as he swung his blade towards the other squire. 

His blade crashed into the Blackwood's helm with a resounding ring, the squire stumbling back in surprise as he swung his longsword blindly to keep Aerion from pressing.  

Aerion however prowled after the Blackwood, his eyes narrowed as the squire swung his blade, Aerion avoiding it by stepping to the side and pouncing on the opening. Using both hands he swung his bastard sword with startling strength into the Blackwoods ribs. 

The clash echoing through the grounds, the shouts of the crowd only increasing in intensity. He heard the Blackwood gasp in pain from beneath the helm, as he avoided yet another panicked strike. 

Aerion spotted the weakness from leagues away as he closed in, his blade swinging in to smash against the Blackwoods ribs. Yet, the Blackwood's eyes gleamed with cold calculation unseen behind his visor.

The Blackwood redirected his sword with a swift motion, smashing his longsword into Aerion's blade. The bastard sword flew from Aerion's hand, clattering against the nearby fence with a deafening thud.

He froze for a moment as he eyed the fallen blade, a sudden roar erupting from the crowds. The Blackwood house shouting and clapping at the spectacle. 

Aerions eyes flicked back to the Blackwood squire, his blade crashing downwards towards him. Aerion barely stumbled out of the way, the blade planting itself into the ground inches away from Aerion.. 

He seized the chance, launching himself forward before Blackwood could lift his blade from the dirt. His gloved fist smashing into the slightly taller squire's helm. He stumbled back, his grip on the blade lost.

Aerions leg kicked out at Blackwood's knee from the front, the squire buckling unsteadily. Aerions got in close avoiding the Blackwoods flailing arms as his hands latched around the squires visor. 

Blackwood fell backwards from the weight, his form smashed into the ground below as Aerions hands stayed latched onto his helm, the pair of them now on the floor. The crowd was shouting in excitement at the sight. 

The Blackwood struck blindly at Aerion's ribs, the pain searing through him. Aerion quickly adjusted, pressing his knee down on Blackwood's throat as he pulled at the visor.

As Aerion yanked the Blackwood's helm off, the squire's face emerged, wide-eyed and panting, his struggles growing desperate beneath Aerion's unyielding grip. 

Aerion stumbled away, his prize, the helm held tightly in his fist, he could hear the Blackwood coughing and panting as the taller squire slowly got to his feet. Aerion panted as well, the exhaustion overcoming him as he stumbled and held the fence to steady himself. 

He heard approaching footsteps, unsteady and desperate but still there nonetheless. He turned his head and the Blackwood had collected his longsword, holding it shakily. 

Aerion rushed forward quickly but sloppily as he smashed the helm into the Blackwoods exposed face, the squire falling onto his back, the longsword left forgotten. 

Aerion dropped, his knee smashing harshly against the Blackwoods ribs, he lifted his right hand, the helm shining in the shining sun before it came down with a wet thud.

The crowd shouting filled his ears as his right arm came up again, his arm shaking from the exhaustion as he harshly smashed it back down into the Blackwoods face, the squire responding with a pathetic choking sound.

Blackwood blood now covered the silver helm as he brought it down onto the squires face again, the meaty thud it made sent an odd shiver down his spine. 

Suddenly the horn rang, signalling the end of the match. The crowd's roars only increased in fervour as Aerion lifted the blood covered helm into the air, his arms shaking in exhaustion.

—-

I really loved that Lannister fight, not too sure about the Blackwood one though, thoughts?

Pacing also felt a bit off.