####
On the fourth day, Wylis was surprised. With only eight men left, he was pitted against the weakest one. There were the likes of Brandon, Arthur Dayne, and Rhaegar Targaryen. But he faced a nobody from House Cockshaw. Yes, that was the name of the house.
Bam!
Easily, while chuckling at the name, Wylis unhorsed the man. It was so easy that he didn't even need to put any pressure on his lance. The Cockshaw man seemingly fell out of fear of getting struck by his lance.
Nonetheless, he won the first exchange of the day. He had another one to go. But instead of returning to his tent, he stayed behind and watched disguised Lyanna arrive and defeat a knight from House Frey.
Then, before anyone could react, she rushed her horse away and vanished into the woods. The King was enraged, deeming the mystery knight as a scheme by his enemies. He sent his Kingsguards and Rhaegar to catch the knight. But hours later, the Kingsguard and Rhaegar returned empty-handed.
Wylis chuckled from the sidelines, noticing Lyanna return to the stands even before the search party returned.
Let's tease her about it later.
There was an issue now, however. Since Lyanna was supposed to be in the last four, her vanishing meant only three men remained. Him, Ser Arthur, and Prince Rhaegar. He fully expected that he'd have to joust Ser Arthur.
But instead, Prince Rhaegar faced the Sword of the Morning. As expected, the silver-haired Prince won. And with that, the final showdown of the last day of the tourney was set—Wylis against Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.
As the day's events came to an end, Wylis looked up in the stands, at Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne. Both women were looking back at him. Then, Seven knows what the two women thought, they nodded toward him, as if permitting him to defeat Rhaegar.
As if I need that. I'm doing this for myself.
No, he was doing it to save Lyanna. He didn't know if she was really smitten by the married Prince. But he wanted to shatter all that image of royal majesty Rhaegar held in her eyes. He wanted to tell the realm, the women, the men, that the fucker was nothing special.
Later that night, the feast hall seemed divided into two camps. One supported Rhaegar, and the other supported Wylis. Though, there were more on Rhaegar's side. The man was a Prince and heir to the Iron Throne. Most sane nobles didn't bother with a stableboy who'd at best become a knight.
"Don't let the wretch rattle you. Smash his bloody skull and be done with it." Robert cheered Wylis up.
"It's not a duel, Robert. It's a joust." Brandon corrected the Lord of Storm's End.
"Whatever—Unhorse him right on his arse."
Wylis sighed and drank very lightly. Being the man under everyone's gaze, he didn't play around with Lyanna either and after having his fill, he went to sleep in his bedchamber. He loved the spotlight, but that was when smallfolk were involved as well. If only nobles eyed him, it made him slightly uneasy. As all of them had a much higher status than him.
Can't wait to see their faces tomorrow.
####
It was the fifth day of the Joust and the last day of the tourney.
Ellia Martell woke up early that morning and wore her best royal gown, a mix of gold and sandy yellow, with jewelry around her neck, her wrists, her head, and her ears. She took pride in her beauty, even though her body remained frail. She truly considered herself beautiful, and that was the reason why she slowly came to loathe Rhaegar Targaryen, her husband.
For far too long she'd been a gentle, good, and gracious lady. Nobody respected her for that. No, not even her husband. Despite giving him two children, an heir, even with her delicate health, the man ignored her. Now, chasing after a young girl.
That day, after waking up, she prayed to the Gods. Not for her husband's victory, but his loss.
"Ashara." She looked at her handmaiden who was holding her young son in her arms. "Did you meet with him again?"
"No, Your Grace. But if things go well, we all will meet him at the feast," Ashara said, averting her gaze. She clearly remembered her promise to Wylis. "Let's go, it'll begin soon."
####
There were many hidden interests at play. But when Wylis donned his armor that day, he had only one aim.
Break Rhaegar's teeth.
With his old, mismatched armor now polished thanks to some gracious nobles sending their squires to aid him, he looked a little better now. Decent enough for the final tilt of the joust. Then, he mounted his handsome horse, grabbed his lance, and headed toward the jousting field.
On his way, men came out of the other tents. None looked rich or that neatly armored. They were mostly squires, lowborn men at arms, or second sons. They clapped for him as he passed them.
Everyone loves an underdog story, I guess.
Waving towards them, he proceeded into the well-guarded jousting field.
"WYLIS!"
"WYLIS!"
Holy shit! That's loud!
The crowd that day was intense. With all the seats in the stands taken, there were a lot of people standing beyond the edge of the field. They roared, they clapped, too many sounds to focus on.
Wait, I think I can hear a shout for 'Die' as well.
Ignoring them, he looked towards the King and bowed on his horse. Then, he looked at Lyanna, who was shouting for him with all her vocal strength, even smacking her brothers to do the same. Ashara waved towards him from beside Elia, and Cersei kept smirking without any greater response. In fact, it was Robert who was roaring the most, boasting that he'd buy everyone some wine if Wylis won.
It all makes sense now. That's how he fucking bankrupted the Crown with just drinking and whoring.
"DRAGON PRINCE!"
"PRINCE RHAEGAR!"
Here comes the silvery bastard. Wylis glared at Rhaegar's arrival. The man really had beautiful armor. Night-black plated, with a helmet that had dragon wings for ears. It was majestic.
"On this glorious day!" The crier began. "We behold the final clash of this storied tourney—one for the annals of the realm! We've feasted well, we've drunk our fill, and watched blades clash like thunder! But now, the hour has come! Prince Rhaegar Targaryen takes up lance and shield to face none other than Wylis of Winterfell—aye, a lad once muckin' stables now ridin' against dragons!"
That sounds like he's mocking me.
"Let the joust begin!"
As the cheers drowned all other sounds, Wylis lowered his visor and got in position at the end of the tilt rail. He took a deep breath, eying the Prince from the narrow gap in his visor. He hated the man from the deepest depths of his heart.
This is it. This is my moment.
Only one attempt. If successful, the Seven Kingdoms will remember him for centuries. A stableboy who defeated the undefeated Prince.
No more hiding. I'll be as I am—tall, strong, and proud.
Woosh!
The flag was waved.
Wylis rushed his horse and picked up speed. It all felt slow-motion to him. His heart pounded, but his breath was frozen. His entire focus was on Rhaegar's lance, reading and predicting his next move. The man was better than Ser Barristan, so he wanted to be careful.
At swift speed, they galloped closer.
Shield? Which side?
Wylis read the Prince till the very last moment, the final moment beyond which it was impossible to bring down the lance in time. But he ignored that. He allowed himself to go past that and waited for the Prince to make a move.
Got you!
As soon as he was sure about Rhaegar's move, he used every ounce of strength in his arm to push down the lance just in time. And then they clashed.
CRACK!
BAM!
As expected! He's brilliant!
Rhaegar's lance struck Wylis square in the shield and splintered.
Wylis didn't react to it and connected with Rhaegar's shield as well. But he continued the motion of his arm and right as his lance tapped on the shield, the lance's tip slid upward and strongly hit Rhaegar's helmet visor. It wasn't easy to knock it open like that, so Wylis used his full strength.
But that wasn't it. That wasn't how he wanted to break Rhaegar's teeth. He'd be disqualified for it, or worse, captured. He made it seem like a natural flow of his lance.
"Aaah!"
As Rhaegar's lance had already splintered, he didn't have any counterbalance. When Wylis struck the visor and knocked it open, Rhaegar fell backward on horseback, rolling off since the horse kept galloping.
It was guaranteed that the Prince would fall and lose now. But it was far from the end.
That's it!
______________________
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