"The next man to joust… The first time in his life, but no stranger to victories—Wylis of Winterfell!"
Wylis galloped his horse straight into the jousting field as the crier shouted his name. His armor was mismatched, his lance wasn't that shiny, and while his helmet looked new, he was an odd sight to all. Yet, the cheers were louder than most, comparable to when the Prince participated the day before.
He made the horse circle around the field, eyeing the audience. He found Lyanna seated in place, her face looking tired. The reason was known to him as the first joust of the day was between a mystery knight, the Knight of the Laughing Tree, and a knight of House Haigh. He knew it was Lyanna, so her condition was understandable.
Must have rushed over to watch me joust.
He eyed the other people. The stands were full that day. Jousting was truly the most anticipated segment of the tourney. Even the King had worn better clothes that day as a lot of smallfolk were there. The Kingsguard had cleaner capes.
There she is. He soon found Cersei seated in a different spot than most other days. This time she sat right at the edge of the jousting field and the stands. Her attire was the same as she wore in the morning, undoubtedly beautiful.
"My Lady." He approached her, wide in the open view, daringly despite his lowly status. He extended his free arm toward the golden-haired girl. "Might I carry your favor in the joust? Luck's a fickle thing, but I'd wager it leans toward the brightest star in the field—and that's you."
But a moment passed and Cersei didn't move an inch. Inside his helmet, Wylis frowned, his grip on the reins grew tighter.
This bitch! Don't—Don't you betray me now! You came to me!
####
Cersei was absent-minded for the most part. From the first joust of the day to the current one. She'd sat there without bothering to look at the tourney. Instead, her eyes were glaring at the empty seat of Prince Rhaegar, while the King and Elia Martell were present.
A thousand things flowed through her mind. Countless schemes and countless victories that were merely fictional. She tried to masterfully control the matter. Tried, was the keyword, for she never failed to overestimate her wits.
Where is he? Where is Rhaegar?
But then, during the latter half of the tourney, she saw something. Something that enraged her the most. She found Lyanna Stark arriving, who had been missing since morning, looking tired. Soon after, the Prince also arrived.
D-Did they? Were they together? No! How could he—Why? That backwater whore!
Her beautiful, green eyes started to turn red. Her pale, unblemished face grew blushed in anger. Her breath hardened, and she noticed how Rhaegar continued to eye Lyanna Stark even when sitting distantly.
Why? Why, why, why?!
She really wanted things to be different. She still hoped that Rhaegar would look at her. She ensured to sit there, looking the most beautiful, wearing the most regal dresses. She hoped to catch his eye. But it never happened, not once.
"My Lady?"
"Hm?" Furiously, she looked straight at the source of that masculine voice. She wanted to roar vile insults. But as she noticed the tall, armored man on an equally tall stallion, she cooled down. "Ah—Please, I will be honored if you carry my favor."
Realizing how absentminded she'd been, she rushed to find a piece of cloth. She glared at the Lannister soldiers guarding her, and the men quickly found the golden ribbon she had prepared. It was an actual silk ribbon with patterns weaved from real gold threads.
"I will pray for your glorious victory."
####
Thank fucking God! She almost made me her greatest enemy.
Heaving a calm breath, he took the golden ribbon from her delicate, small hand. But she didn't release it instantly and eyed him with a stern gaze.
"Wylis—Don't you forget the promise."
Haha! She really hates him, doesn't she? Good for her, it's mutual.
"Teeth shattered, blood will flow," he replied in a whisper and took the golden strop at last. He tied it around his armored right arm near the bicep. He also eyed Lyanna in the distance, annoyance marring her face.
With that, he trotted his horse to his side of the jousting field and waited for the competitor to arrive. It didn't take long before a knight in shining armor entered, proud, with fine steel. A real knight who could be called Ser. But the man didn't receive much praise. From the mark on his chest, it seemed he was from House Tarly.
Soon, a low-ranking House Stark soldier came over and handed Wylis the jousting lance. He gripped it tight and prepared himself. There were two judges, one on each side, eyeing the two riders the entire time. Then there was a man near the middle, a little away from the middle tilt rail, holding flags to signal the start.
Wylis was like a mountain compared to the Tarly Knight. It was so early in the jousting that nobody even bothered to bet. Victory was already named to Wylis. The only question was how badly the Tarly Knight would lose.
Let's try to knock him over.
With a goal in mind, Wylis hoped to perfect his craft for the best result. He really wanted to break Rhaegar's teeth. But he didn't want to break any rules for that. He needed to strike the shield, as hitting the Prince on the helmet would give him points, but also anger the royals.
A little bit of Earthbending? But I can't manipulate much while not standing on the ground.
In the end, he treated the current joust as a practice run. There were many rules, but he only needed to know one. If a knight shatters two lances by striking his opponent, and the knight who had been struck knocks him off his horse, even though he didn't splinter his lance, a tie shall be declared between him and the knight who splintered the two lances.
That meant that Wylis had to unhorse his opponent in the very first exchange as the other side may splinter their lance while he unhorsed them.
Moments later, the tension grew. Wylis felt a little nervous this time.
Woosh!
As soon as the flag was waved between them, Wylis galloped forward on his horse. High at first, he lowered his lance slowly and right in time. His years of strength training made the lance feel weightless. He held it with ease.
BOOM!
As expected, the Tarly Knight splintered his lance on Wylis. But the lance didn't touch his shield, but rather his chestplate. Meanwhile, what Wylis did was an entirely different beast.
"Aaaargh!"
Wylis' lance struck the 'boss' of the Tarly Knight's shield. At first, it was a normal strike, but then Wylis thrust his lance forward and that did the job. The Tarly Knight dislocated his shoulder as his entire upper body was spun on the horse, and a moment later, he lost balance, falling right off the horse onto his back, with a loud, metallic thud.
"Aaaargh!"
The Tarly Knight continued to groan on the ground, rolling, trying to hold his shoulder with the other hand, but his armor came in the way. The judges rushed over to see the damage. When they shoved the visor up, they were surprised to see blood oozing from the Tarly Knight's mouth.
Wylis handed his lance to the Stark man and got off his horse. He removed his helmet, showcasing his handsome face to the ladies for the optics. Then, he walked over to the fallen Tarly man.
"Joust is over! You won!"
One of the judges tried to shield the fallen knight, fear visible in the man's eyes.
What? Ah—
"I'm not here to hurt him." Wylis declared and looked at the knight. Since his mouth was bleeding, it meant the knight had received internal injuries from his fall. It looked serious. "Let me carry him to the Maester's tent. Quick!"
Awkwardly, the judges stepped aside. Wylis scooped up the fallen knight like a princess and carried him off the field. He did half of it to save his skin in case the man died. And the other half to earn the prestige of chivalry, honor, and knightly actions. Men or women, all loved a good noble deed.
As he carried away the knight, the spectators roared in cheers for him even louder, surpassing any other yet.
How do I break teeth without doing this to Rhaegar?
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