Grounded

In the seven-a-side melee, many teams had prominent competitors. The knights of the Vale and Reach representing their Great Houses showed out, always starting strong with their lances. Eventually, they would face each other in a highly competitive clash. The lands that boasted to have the finest knights in the Realm, and the other, which was widely viewed as the home of chivalry in Westeros.

The clashes between Lady Forlorn and Heartsbane had rung across the field, making a sharp ringing sound as neither Valyrian Steel sword relented. It was a magnificent sight, one that Edric more than appreciated. This was what he expected from a tourney so grand. 

The Knights of the Vale would emerge victorious for their Lord Arryn, overcoming Ser Garlan Tyrell and Randyll Tarly in what many considered an upset.

Their success wouldn't last much longer, however, as they came to face the team representing Edric. 

The Kingsguard would punch them right in the mouth and take their lunch money. Ser Arthur had disarmed Lyn Corbray and took Lady Forlorn, wielding both Valyrian Steel blades at once while dominating any opponent that neared him. The Hound was feasting, Brienne deceived her opponent and bested him with relative ease, Loras was lancing and the rest showed skill worthy of the Kingsguard. 

It was a clean sweep that lasted barely five minutes.

On the other side of the bracket, there was another team that dominated in similar fashion. They swept up the teams representing House Martell, Tully and Lannister. Each time, they displayed coordination, discipline and skill that simply couldn't be matched by their opposition.

It seemed to be fated when the two teams faced each other in the finals…

~

[Edric POV, 1st]

The scriptwriters were cooking today.

I definitely didn't specifically place the two 'championship' teams on separate sides of the bracket or make it a tad bit more difficult for the Kingsguard. Pfft, I'd never do something like that.

 Is the latter even rigging if it makes the road to success more difficult?

"May I sit next to you?"

I glanced to the side, seeing Rhaerra. The two people sitting next to me were Renly and Arya. I shrugged in response.

"Since you've made matters particularly difficult for my Kingsguard, I'll honour your request. Uncle, can you make space?"

"Of course, Your Grace." 

Renly scooted to the next seat, and a domino effect followed as almost the entire row did the same. Rhaerra sat down and looked tense. In the same position, Dorian would've make himself comfortable. I noticed that Arya was glancing at her, though they weren't the 'I might murder you in your sleep' glances. 

Maybe she had grown to admire the woman.

"With a win here, our little bet would come to an early end," Rhaerra remarked, looking onto the tourney grounds.

"Wouldn't you like that? Unfortunately, it's nothing more than a fading dream."

"Given how dominant the Kingsguard have been so far, you might just be right. Though, I am surprised that you would put forward a woman. You know her quite well, don't you?"

"What about Brienne?"

"She is an anomaly." Rhaerra turned to me. "Say, how much for her loyalty? Twenty thousand? If you wish, I could trade Baegel."

"... For a former slave, you don't seem all that opposed to practising it yourself."

"A trade of subjects is hardly slavery." Rhaerra shook her head. "Even if it were, I do not fear dirtying my hands to accomplish my goals. As I see it, the ends justify the means."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "And what are those goals you speak of?"

"Changing the world by bringing liberty and freedom to all."

"Huh." I almost found myself scoffing at the prospect. Liberty and freedom for everyone was quite vague. "It sounds good and well, this goal. Have you thought about what happens to the world when everyone is free? It is an open door to chaos, lack of purpose, not knowing what to do with all that freedom and perhaps the collapse of any semblance of law and order."

"I did not mean absolute freedom. Merely, I believe that no person should be a slave to another." Rhaerra countered, shaking her head. "The Seven Kingdoms are closer to that than most of Essos."

"You must love Daenerys, in that case."

"Partly." She admitted. "She has the might and principles yet has proven herself too impatient and inexperienced. I admire her boldness, yet it is rather... misplaced. You cannot change practices that have existed for thousands of years in the blink of an eye. What good is freedom when there is no semblance of a plan for their future?"

"Tens of thousands of former slaves sitting around, relying on rations and charity without providing any productivity. It is not sustainable and will undoubtedly lead to a great upheaval where many will die because of her carelessness."

"I am inclined to agree with you," I admitted, nodding. "Indeed, no one should be a slave. If such practices existed in the Seven Kingdoms, I would act upon them. However, whatever is happening on the other side of the world is hardly a concern of mine as matters stand. I have a duty to my people first and foremost."

"I expected you to say as much." Rhaerra crossed her arms. "Yet - have you ever thought of seeking more? It was Aegon who conquered Six Kingdoms and Daeron, the Second of His Name, that made it Seven. Since then, the borders of these lands have remained mostly unchanged."

"You speak of conquest?" Arya questioned.

"Mhm... if anyone could do it, it would be Edric Storm. Success would immortalise his name and forge a dynasty like none that ever existed before it."

I chuckled.

"You underestimate my ambition, Rhaerra."

"Do I?"

"Mayhaps if you had asked this question a year or so ago, I'd laugh at you and say I had never even thought of such an absurd thing." I looked at my left hand, stretching my fingers as lightning sparked like electricity. "I once thought that my purpose in life was to fulfil my personal desires; happiness, love, being free to go wherever I wanted, a sense of belonging... yet much of it seems to have eluded my grasp. I have learned to see the bigger picture, striving to use my strength for a greater purpose other than myself."

"So... yes. I suppose we do have similar goals."

"Interesting." Rhaerra sat back, speaking with a fonder tone. "For a boy of two-and-ten, you are very insightful. It's a small wonder why everyone seems to forget you are just a boy."

"I have been hardened and shaped by my many experiences," I replied, shrugging slightly.

"I'd like to believe it's more than that." She turned to me, her violet eyes beyond her mask seemingly piercing my soul. "Yes... in the east, there were some tales of men dying and being born again as boys. A son, grandson, cousin, perhaps even a stranger. Mayhaps you are one such tale?"

"That's quite an interesting concept," I remarked, acting like I had never heard of it. "However, to my knowledge, this is the only life that I've lived."

We've barely spoken, and she has already come to such a conclusion. While it wouldn't be too hard to think of in modern times, such concepts tend to elude the people of this age...

This woman is a little too curious.

"A shame." Rhaerra glanced away, resting her head on her hand. "It would be rather interesting if it were true, however. I'd imagine you to be some ancient warlock king from thousands of years past, where magic was at its strongest."

If only my first life was that eventful...

She'd be disappointed to find out I was just a guy loading packages and vans.

"I'm honoured that you think so highly of me." I sarcastically remarked. "You could write quite an interesting book about that."

The usual wuxia where the 'strongest' dies for whatever reason and is reborn in the weakest clan of the weakest city of the weakest kingdom of the weakest continent of the weakest world... and rises to the top, step by stop, gathering a harem of divine beauties and face-slapping all manner of overly arrogant and foolish men along the way.

Yeah, sounds about right.

"I might just do that," Rhaerra remarked.

Arya looked at me, blinking.

"What?"

"Nothing." 

This Rhaerra; did she unintentionally plant a seed? Or perhaps it was intentional...

~

[Brienne POV, 3rd]

While Brienne had held her own in the other rounds and defeated her matchups, the rest of the team very clearly could have won without her. This time was different, however. There was not a single pushover on the team representing Rhaerra. Each was a warrior fit to wear a white cloak.

Falling short early would be detrimental as it would give them the numbers advantage, and Brienne was well aware of that.

"We should unhorse as many of them as we can early." Ser Arthur advised, looking at his fellow Kingsguard. "I doubt they are better than any of us with lances."

"Who chose you to be leader?" Ser Loras questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"If it's one reason we lose, it's a lack of organisation." Arthur countered. "They have a clear leader who every man listens to without question. Individually, we might be superior... but if we can't work together with a solid plan, we'll lose."

"Ser Arthur is right." Balon Swann nodded. "It would always be His Grace who takes the lead, but he is not participating in this battle. Nor has he chosen anyone to take the lead in his absence."

"It seems he wishes us to choose a leader amongst ourselves." Ser Arys remarked.

"Just beat the man in front of you." The Hound countered, shaking his head. "If you cunts can do that, we win."

The first bell rung, signalling the melee being close to starting.

"... Just stay together and help each other where you can." Arthur sighed, shaking his head.

…

With both teams getting on horseback, the melee had begun.

Valaegor rode forward first, lance at the ready. It was as if Ser Loras and he had mentally signalled each other and come to a mutual agreement. He had beaten him on the horseback race, which was something Ser Loras had taken personally.

In their clash, Ser Loras proved himself to be better.

He knocked Valaegor right off and rode on to unhorse the next opponent.

As per Rhaerra's plan, Gaegor engaged in combat against the Hound - exchanging tilts and unhorsing each other. Ballio had aimed to unhorse Ser Arthur, only to miss and be thrown off his horse by the force of his lance. 

As Brienne took a defensive approach, she found herself being targetted by both Baegel and Taelor. One fired arrows from horseback while the other tossed a javelin straight into her horse's head.

The crowd gasped at the sight of such an dishonourable deed.

Her horse screamed out in pain, rising and forcing her to fall to the ground. As Baegel came upon her, Ser Arthur's white cloak fluttered in front and threw the giant off his horse.

"Baegel didn't need horse anyway... nor do you!"

Baegel took another javelin and tossed it full-force, straight into the ass of Ser Arthur's horse - knocking him off too.

"Nor do you!"

He threw another at Ser Mandon's horse.

"Nor do you!"

And another at Arys Oakheart's...

 Meanwhile, Ser Loras was unhorsing the blue cloaks one after the other. He had succeeded in doing so to most of their team, except Taelor who fired into the eye of his horse.

In a mere minute, everyone was on foot except Taelor. 

Edric wanted to be mad, but then he recalled his own melees of the past. It was practically his signature move.

'Bastards...' Edric thought to himself, frowning slightly. 'Taking right from my playbook.'