…Chapter Start
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(...General Pov)
"You truly have your mind set on this Daemon?" Myrcella asked as she was being escorted by Daemon through the garden, who had a determined smile on his face, "Obviously, I made too many preparations to stop now; I will be participating in the melee, Princess." He replied confidently.
"I can't persuade you anymore, but I'll say this, cousin, don't come back maimed or disabled. That's an order from the Princess." She replied playfully causing Daemon to chuckle before replying, "I swear it on my honor. I also have something to give you after the tourney, for your name day." Daemon said.
"Mhm? You don't have to get me anything, Daemon- seeing you wielding your sword is a gift in itself." She said with flattery, and if he didn't know any better, he would be surprised, "Is that what your Septa is teaching you? Nice. But, still, as your favorite cousin, it is expected of me." He remarked.
"You do know I truly mean it right? It's like watching Uncle Jamie, but if you are going to present the Princess with a gift, I suggest you do it after winning the melee." She said that Daemon knew she was challenging him, but that was the goal he set for himself.
"Do you think I was participating without the intention of winning? Dear cousin, I swear that anyone who faces my steel would be bested, and even though I can't crown you the Queen of love and beauty from the Melee, I would perform splendidly in the Melee." He sounded arrogant but there was something underlying in his tone.
Myrcella would have smiled knowing that her cousin meant what he was saying even though he sounded arrogant, but in truth, this was pure confidence and pride in his swordsmanship.
"We'll see cousin…oh, and I wanted to." She was cut off by the voice of someone that was all too familiar. "I see that you find the company of my daughter and princess well, Waters," Cersei replied condescendingly, her head tilted upward in the usual noble fashion.
"Aye, Just escorting the princess your Grace." He replied with a bow before moving to the side allowing the mother and daughter to speak.
"I see but I don't see what my daughter finds with your company as it always has when you're young." She continued staring at Daemon who replied calmly. "She is my cousin by technicality, your Grace, even though I'm baseborn." Causing Cersei's lip to curve upward.
"Technicality…you're right." She replied, causing Daemon to hold his expression but thinking internally, 'She admits it?'
"You may hold our blood by technicality making you family but trust me when I say your blood is tainted." Hearing this, Myrcella shoots her mother a look causing Cersei to keep her smile. "Now Myrcella darling, let's get you dressed and presentable for your name day." She said before moving away.
"Sorry, Daemon, I'll see you after the tourney." She said, causing him to nod, "See you later, princess." He said cheekily before leaving the garden.
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(Daemon Pov)
'Now I see why knights would rather have squires.' He said in his mind as he fitted himself in his armor which was proving to be slightly challenging.
Daemon was currently located in the stables to keep away from prying eyes as he didn't want anyone to know who was behind the mystery knight persona he was going to use. He made the last touches on the braces he was dealing with—which were now firmly tightened.
"Looking like a knight now for the helm," He grabbed the helm, staring at it…this helm was made to hide the face of the user, leaving only a visor where he could see, making the individual inconspicuous and well-protected to a degree.
He stared at the helm…rubbing his hand over the metal before raising it over his head and placing the final piece of the armor on his body. This Is it—everything now came up to this…should he fall or stand as the only one through the war-like simulation battle would determine his future?
He started to move around to get familiar with the armor—not that he wasn't used to fighting in plates, but it wasn't his usual armor, so it was best to get comfortable. While walking, a feeling would touch his chest, and the sudden rush of anxiety and unease gripped him. The actual reality of what he was about to do gripped him by the heart.
He gripped the castle-forged steel sword that lay on a barrel tightly and tied it on his hip before inhaling and exhaling. The feeling was gone… overcome by the sheer will of the lion's blood that ran through his veins.
"I'm not so weak-willed to fear the claws of anxiety and unease when my own claws are sharper." He commented to himself, equipping his shield on his left hand, and walked out from the stable.
'A total of 120 participants for the melee was slightly larger than that of the melee in Bitterbridge. The knights there are probably looking to make a name for themselves or just tourney knights…but there are some challenges within the tournament. Daemon monologued to himself with his steel-plated boot hitting the ground creating a minor noise.
His movements were fluid, not stiff like some, as he carried himself through the crowd with regality befitting of someone above his station, and if not for the strange sigil on his armor, most would have assumed he was a lord.
'Lyn Cobray, the knight who felled Lewyn Martell; Loras Tyrell, son of the warden of the south; Andar Royce, and Robar Royce, all skilled knights and some who are among the top in the melee…this most definitely would be challenging'
Listing the names he heard of those who were traveling for Myrcella's name day tourney…he felt pressured but the question lingered…would he lose?
"But I'd win…though Ser Lyn might be the most dangerous amongst them." He said softly before chuckling and continuing his walk to the tourney grounds where he would see a surplus amount of knights and squires who were doing their duties and helping their respective knights with their armor.
"The knight of the dark sun? Interesting sigil don't you think?" A familiar sound reached Daemon's ears as he turned around to stare at his uncle Tyrion.
"A unique sigil, yes but it fits my lord," Daemon said, keeping to his persona. "Perchance, what event are you participating in, Ser?" Tyrion asked with a knowing smile.
"Melee, my lord, I'm eager to test my sword arm against the best the tourney has to offer," Daemon said while smiling under his helm.
"Surely, no doubt. I hope the Warrior gives you his blessing, Ser," Tyrion said, his stare lingering on him for a good 5 seconds before nodding at him and leaving.
'Nice to see so many people worrying about me-' He thought before he heard the sound of the trumpet.
'It's starting- it's do or die now.' He said before walking to the arena.
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…Chapter End