Chapter 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, saw 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.

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, Golden Dragons to count, or 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 and wine upon wine.

At first, I had thought I would have loved the extravagance and carefree lifestyle.

It was the life I had dėsɨrėd 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 the 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.

Well.

There was no longer a war and I hadn't wielded my Warhammer for half a decade.

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 new 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.

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 dėsɨrėd.

With the week the responses came rolling back.

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.

Although the Tullys were still recovering from that recent scandal, Hoster and many of the noble Lords had decided to come, with only the Starks declining the invite, 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 interim Master of the Coin, there was no suspicion of someone criminally stealing it for themselves.

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.

DURRANDON'S POV

"I do loath such large crowds." I muttered as I 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. Your father and mine 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 to houses Bar Emmon, Celtigar, Sunglass, Massey, Rosby and Stokeworth.

The first and second allowed me to meet the young heir named Duram and gain the interest of the greedy Lord Adrian.

The third, fourth and fifth merely served as a good first impression with the pious Lord Guncer, the eccentric Lord Guncer, and the sick Lord Gyles.

And the final visit helped me interact with Lollys before she became too ugly.

I'm sure their castles' Magical Dungeons would have offered a much better loot than the others, and some sort of challenge, since none of them had anything better than the lowly Zombie to get rid off.

Instead, what I got wasn't Gold, Valyrian Steel, Spellbooks or Potions.

I got books labeled as…

[BOOK OF BASIC ABJURATION]

[BOOK OF BASIC TRANSMUTATION]

[BOOK OF BASIC CONJURATION]

[BOOK OF BASIC ENCHANTMENT]

[BOOK OF BASIC EVOCATION]

[BOOK OF BASIC ILLUSION]

The two, uncle Jaime and me, who was still bȧrėly at the same height as my Water Dance instructor, 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. 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 his honor."

"Can't blame them." I admitted with a hint of mockery. "They think that the Mountain rȧpėd 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.

…

Kingsguard and I walked 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 to the King, 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.

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.

"Your Grace." Greeted 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!"

Jaime had a dark look on his face as he forced himself to not glare at the King; while the Kingslayer had no dėsɨrė 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.

"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 fuċkɨnġ a woman who wants to be fuċkėd. 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."

"He and my father are still on their way from Casterly Rock." Jaime informed before following behind.

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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 recently named Master of Coin, estimated that the city would gain from the increased expenditure, if the prize gold to the winners were not as high.

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 Tyrion with a smirk on his face and a drink in his hand. "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."

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 walked up to the two with his usual witty smile, hiding his usual fiery hate for both houses.

Tyrion immediately felt his smile leave his face as he made eye-contact with the known sėxuȧŀly-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 Prince nodded.

"Please place one hundred Gold Dragons on Ser Barristan, whom I believe to be the best knight in the tourney."

Tyrion smiled rather forcefully and sat back against his seat. "I certainly wish you the best of luck."

The Dornish Prince smirked. "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."

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 Crown Prince remarked. "Have any of you heard about a silver tongue Bard?"

Everyone else raised an eyebrow in confusion while Alysse stopped herself from laughing.

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DURRANDON'S POV

I stepped out of the large crowd, disguised as my artistic 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.

"Aren't you that Bard from Chataya's Tavern?" 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 mȧturė glint in her eyes and her long silky black hair made her look graceful and elegant.

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 shorter than everyone else."

I smirked and crossed my arms. "Height doesn't make a better archer…or fighter."

"Don't tell you've also signed up for the melee competition?" Asked the girl with an amused smile. "You're going to have your creative 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, but are still rare, so I wouldn't worry for the participants. Besides, I will be sticking with archery, and will leave that to a friend of mine." I looked over at the girl with my disguised blue eyes and smiled. "I like his chances better." Turning back to the front of the line where people were slowly being let into the archery field. "And the Archery Competition is only shooting at targets, so it shouldn't be too lethal."

"So what's your name?" Asked the girl with a pretty smile. "Just in case I have to tell the guards who the dead body is."

"Heh. I don't have a name, so you won't have trouble remembering it. From where I'm from, we take the name of our profession. Just call me Bard, or Ranger."

The girl laughed and covered her lips with her delicate fingers. "Really? Where that curious place might be?"

I chuckled back and shrugged. "Far far away."

The girl laughed as her two friends continued to smirk.

"What can I say? 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 and smiled, revealing a surprisingly pearly white pair of teeth. "Who knows; maybe after today many people will have some interest in visiting it after all."

"You sure are a funny man." The girl stood up straight and crossed her arms. "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 wonder as I bowed to the girls. "My ladies; it's a pŀėȧsurė 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 shoot yourself, we might see each other again."

I nodded and smiled one last time. "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, Bard." She said more to herself.

But I managed to hear it. "Thank you, my lady."

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"You sure were interested in that foreigner…" Muttered Nymeria with a knowing smile on her face. "Sure, he was a cute man and had a nice body, but he's a peasant and your father will be angry if you ȧssociate yourself with him."

Obara nodded along, agreeing with her half-sister with a grunt.

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 boys we've met who are all either too shy or too ċȯċky." 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."

"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 known as Bard. "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. "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 from Dorne.

It was the first time the girls had left their small corner of Dorne.

Their fathers wanted them to see the world with their own eyes, and perhaps even met their cousin, and possibly legitimate Queen, Rhaenys.

So far King's Landing was very appealing to all three of them.

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 sėxuȧŀ 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 sėx.

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 Bard 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. "He's not that old; how good can he be?"

Arianne shrugged as she sat up taller and stretched her neck. "I don't even see him with all these people blocking the view."

Obara chuckled mockingly as she sat arms crossed. "That's because he's not that tall."

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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 'Bard' hadn't taken his turn yet.

But she didn't have to wait long.

When the next line of archers lined up she clearly saw someone that was thinner than the rest and had a head of black hair.

He held his 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 'Bard' stand next to much older men who were all almost a head taller than him; he looked out of place in the line.

"He's the only one in the competition that doesn't appear to be a warrior." 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."

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 bard!"

"I-Am-Not-Smiting-Over-Anyone!"

Nymeria hugged Arianne'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 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 Bard got sent after he lost, but much to her shock she saw him standing with the other winner of the rounds.

He looked flamboyant and happy beside the other competitors as he waited for the other rounds to finish.

"Wow…he actually made it through the first round."

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 'Bard', other than his special songs and tales, that made her want him to win.

Bard 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.

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Looking to his sides, the disguised 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 only chuckled at their ignorance.

His marksman skills were his pride.

"Alright you lot, draw your arrows!"

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!"

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 disguised 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 thought.

Time went on as steady as it always had, and the disguised Crown Prince passed round and 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 over five times his age with actual combat experience 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 Bard 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 bȧrėly capable of drawing a Warbow, much less aiming it properly."

"You of all people should know that size or age doesn't really matter in regards to talent and skill." Ser Barristan turned to the competition and stared at 'Bard' in wonder. "But that one really strikes as odd…he looks relaxed and calm and completely confident. Almost like…" The famous Knight crossed his arms and leaned back against a wooden post of the pavilion. "Very interesting."

Just above the two Knights 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 an artist pull anything more than the strings of a harp, much less make it to the final rounds of a tourney. Especially since the young man looked to be a peasant, just a very talented civilian that worked on his favorite Brothel.

But this so-called 'Bard' appearance did not reflect his skill and accuracy.

From his posture and elegant smile, he acted like a highborn soldier with training, or just a smart man with a keen sense of observation.

Either way, Robert was rooting for the young man.

"One thousand gold dragons on the singer!" 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 Bard, but he wasn't confident enough to invest in him.

If both the Crown Prince and the King were sure that the foreigner artist would win against the Summer Islander Prince, then they weren't going to say otherwise.

All the way on the other side of the pavilion, Prince Oberyn chuckled 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 the so-called 'Bard' was, he wasn't about to lose any gold over him.

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"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.

For the past while, Arianne and her cousins had been paying their undivided attention to the competition, getting increasingly tense as 'Bard' 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 as Nymeria hugged Arianne's arms, holding her blushing cousin close.

"Shut up!"

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"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 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 and maybe buy a high-class whore from Lys.

He could enjoy the rest of his days in luxury and warmth, 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 be at the moment.

Contrary to his opponent's belief, the disguised crown prince was quite calm.

His arms were relaxed and his fingers were still; his breathing was quiet and steady, and his eyes were locked.

This really was no challenge for him, even with such distance, thanks to his Sharpshooter perk.

No matter how far, given the right aim any target could be hit.

Durrandon was more than used to moving targets, even amidst the darkness of a moonless night.

A real challenge would be to try to hit an enemy's approaching arrow on horseback with only one arrow in his quiver, and perhaps blindfolded.

But that would be a stretch.

A nonmoving target while standing on a firm platform during a day with clear skies was absolutely ridiculous, and, apparently to people in King's Landing, worth ten thousand gold dragons.

"Release!"

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!"

The three judges made their way over to the targets, and then the disguised 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!"

Jalabhar exhaled deeply as he drew his arm back and aimed for the target again.

"Release!"

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 buy.

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 how the disguised 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 twice in a row.

"We have a winner!" Cried the main judge as he walked over to Bard 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 were among the three Dornish girls to the right side.

The King himself was clapping for the artist as were countless other lords and knights.

All the while, Durrandon smiled and bowed to both crowds and always had a smile on his face.

"I can't believe it!" Cried Obara loudly as she clapped hard for the boy. "That little man actually did it!"

Arianne was on her feet and waved her arms around in celebration.

She felt extremely happy for the artist 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, Bard!"

"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.

Bard 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 artist nodded, shaking hands with Jalabhar Xho before following with a huge smile.

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(07/10/2021)

*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.

*I do recommend on FanFiction.Net "Blood & Vengeance" from Kyoka Suigetsu Totsuka.

It helped me a lot to create my story. I really like it! Check it out!