บท 49: Tourney III

[A/N: First of all, Wow, just wow. I know that around a day ago, the story had just hit 500k and I came home from work and found it to be at 600k. Simply amazing. I cannot believe it.

Secondly, on most of the fights that Aerion doesn't partake, it'll be skimmed over. Truthfully, I don't wanna drag the Tourney out too much so I'll focus on Aerion's fights more. And for those confused on the brackets I explained on the Author's Note, basically, this tournament should have 3 rounds, 4 Matches on the First Round, 2 matches on the Second Round, and the Third Round is the Final Match.

Also, I really don't know if I'll have another chapter tomorrow before work so I'm sorry about that. Probably one after work, for sure.]

(Third Person POV)

[Round 1, Match 2: Willam Royce vs Criston Cole]

"Shit!" Willam Royce shouted as he crashed against the ground

He immediately got up as he avoided a massive blow from his opponent. He then stumbled as he tried to brace himself, raising the shield up as an iron ball was brought down hard on the shield, shattering most of it.

Willam then swung his sword as a counter, hitting against Criston Cole's shield as the two immediately stepped away from each other.

Ser Criston Cole of the Kingsguard was fighting against Ser Willam Royce of Runestone. Willam had been wielding a blunt longsword as Cole wielded a dull flail, without the spikes. It was just an iron ball chained to a wooden handle.

Nobody had expected the Kingsguard to choose this as his weapon and were in awe of how dominating Cole was with this. Willam had taken several hits up until this point, his armor was slightly bent but other than that, he was still in condition to fight.

Cole circled around Willam as he smiled, wearing his helm as he spun the iron ball around, "You okay, Royce?" He asked, "You look a bit woozy, perhaps you should forfeit."

Willam spat some blood out as he readied a stance, raising his cracked shield, "Never."

"Ah, are all Royce Knights this prideful?" Criston said, "Your Lord is the figurehead of that proud arrogance of you Bronze Knights....."

"My Lord...." Willam said with a smirk, "Is Future King-Consort...something some men here would never hope to be....I am sure you would have some thoughts on that, wouldn't you, Ser Criston?"

Willam raised his eyebrows in a mocking manner.

Cole stopped and his eye twitched, "What?"

Willam chuckled, "Ah, nothing." He said, "Just something that Ser Laenor mentioned.....after you killed his best friend.....Quite a fall from grace, Cole, don't you think?"

"You speak too much." Criston said as he charged

With a swift motion, Cole swung the flail at Willam, who blocked it with his shield. As the ball collided with the wood, Willam powered through the impact and pushed the shield against Cole, who stumbled by it.

Willam then thrust his sword past Cole's shield and struck at his breastplate, pushing Cole away. He then straightened up and followed up with several swings.

Cole raised his shield up in defense, blocking the strikes from the Royce Knight as the shield slowly broke up, splinters flying everywhere.

Criston Cole then swung his flail at Willam's leg, hitting it hard and bending the steel.

"Aghh!!" Willam shouted as Cole bashed his shield at his head

The impact of the shield bash was enough to stagger Willam and cause his helm to fly out. As the Royce Knight stumbled back, Criston Cole walked up and swung the flail at his head, the iron ball colliding against the temple of the Royce Knight hard and crashing him to the ground as blood splashed everywhere.

The crowd gasped in shock as most of the people looked away. Rhaenyra covered her mouth with shock but said nothing at this.

Aerion, who was watching from behind a railing near where the Smallfolk were, widened his eyes, "Willam!!" He shouted as he jumped the rails and began to run towards the Arena

Willam laid on his back as he tried moving, a gash on his temple bleeding profusely as Criston Cole stood over her and raised the flail upwards.

"That's what I thought, Royce." Cole said with a slight smirk

"Get off him you son of a bitch!!" Yohn Royce shouted as he ran into the arena and pushed Cole off, "It's over!!"

Several of House Royce's Knights and squires ran to Willam's side as they immediately placed a rag on his head to stop the bleeding.

Cole looked at Yohn who stood in front of Willam who was being picked up, "The match is not over." He said, "You forget yourself, You're placing your hands on a Kingsguard."

"Fuck you, Cole." Yohn scowled, "You won, you stupid fuck."

Cole took a step forward, "Oh is that-"

"Enough!" Otto shouted from the stands

"Hm." Cole said as he stepped back, "Yea....I suppose so..."

"That's right." Yohn said, "Be a good little lapdog."

"This lapdog just demolished your strongest Knight, Royce." He said

"Oh, I'll show you-" Yohn started but was cut off by a loud whistle

Aerion walked up to Willam who was still conscious, barely, a rag being held onto his head, "You'll be alright." He said

"Y-Yea...." Willam managed

Aerion then walked past him and went up to Yohh, "Back off, Yohn." He said

"Tch!" Yohn said

"Listen to your Lord, bronze knight." Cole said

Aerion looked at him with a serious look on his face, "You'll regret that, Cole." He said

"How so?" Cole asked

"You're my next opponent." Aerion said, "You think I'm gonna let you get away with any of that?"

"Heh." Criston Cole said, "I represent the Crown, Lord Aerion, the Queen, the King...their children...."

Aerion walked up to him and looked down at him, "And who the fuck do you think I represent?" He said with a controlled anger in his voice, "What you did to one of my people, I'll return it to you tenfold. In front of your Queen, your Hand, and whoever else you represent..."

"I'll leave you a bloody mess."

[Round 1, Match 2 Winner: Criston Cole]

***********************************************

[A/N: Skipping Jon Roxton vs Ormund Hightower cause why not]

Ormund Hightower fell to the ground with a resounding thud, his helm flying off as blood poured out of his nose and mouth.

"Ahh...." He groaned as his entire head was ringing

Jon Roxton stood over him, his face bleeding as well, pointing his blunt sword at him, "Yield?" He said, "Or you want an extra beating, Hightower?"

"Fuck...." Ormund said as he slowly rolled over, his eyes closed in pain, "I....can't continue....I yield...."

Jon Roxton backed up as he raised his arms in triumph.

Otto Hightower looked down as she sighed, "Oh good lord...." He said as he shook his head, "What a pity."

"That was a good fight, Ormund fought well." Viserys said, "Roxton is quite the fighter, he is."

"Right..." Otto said as he watched his nephew be picked up by his squires

"The winner of the third match is Ser Jon Roxton!!!" The Announcer bellowed as the crowd cheered

[First Round, Third Match Winner: Jon Roxton]

Jon Roxton walked away from the arena as the Announcer was in the middle of the arena.

"Now! For the final match of the first round!" He announced, "After this match, there will be a fifteen-minute break until the second round begins!"

As he said this, the next fighter approached, escorted by more Hightower Knights.

Otto looked at this and got to the edge of his seat, "Is that....?" He said

Daeron, who sat next to Alicent, "Uncle Gwayne!" He exclaimed

Gwayne Hightower approached the weapons rack as the Announcer gestured to him.

"Ser Gwayne Hightower!! The Son of The Hand of The King!!" he bellowed as the crows cheered and clapped

Gwayne then walked into the Arena as he twirled his sword, shield in the other hand.

"Hm..." He said as he paced around

"Now! For the final fighter!!" the announcer said, "This was a mystery participant!! Nobody knows who this last contestant is!! Well, of course for myself!!"

As he said this, there was a loud neighing of a horse. Everyone looked to the other side of the arena as a black stallion burst through a crowd of people as Daemon Targaryen rode it, holding a jousting lance in his right arm.

Everyone gasped in shock and surprise at this, even Rhaenyra was taken aback by this.

"The King's Own Brother!!!" The Announcer announced, "Prince Daemon Targaryen!!!"

Viserys sighed, "Oh no." He said with defeat in his voice

Otto looked down again, "Gods help us all..." he said

On the other Royal Seats, Baela and Rhaena's eyes lit up, "Father!" Baela exclaimed

"He's here!" Rhaena said

Aerion, who watched next to his fellow Royce Knights behind the railings, rolled his eyes, "What is he doing?"

Daemon, clad in his black armor, smirked as he looked around, "Huh?" He said as he flipped the lance around and planted it on the ground, "I thought this was a joust!!! Does the King not have the coin to throw a proper Joust for Visenya Targaryen?!"

"For my Granddaughter?!"