23 The Melee pt 1

Kingslanding; Crownslands; Seventh Moon of 98 AC

Ragnar PoV:

The sound of arrows hitting straw distracted Ragnar as he watched over the archery competition; most nobles found archery a lesser form of arms, no better than a hunter's tool. Ragnar was not like most nobles, for the Slayer of Alduin archers were as crucial as cavalry in a field of battle; a well-timed rain of arrows could destroy the enemy's cavalry in no less than three repetitions.

The westerosi distaste for archery in general, unfortunately, had a few adverse effects on the archery competition, the main two being most archers competing were most of the time awful and that the lack of incentive made the whole affair quite dull, with most Lords either chatting or getting mighty drunk.

The high bleachers in which most great lords, wardens, and the royal family were seated provided a great view of the competition's fields and subtly separated the influential houses from the lesser houses. The King and the Royal family sat in the middle of the high bleachers, in the highest of "boxes."; with the Lord Paramounts and major directional Wardens on their right; and other Great Houses and small-scale wardens on their left.

Prince Viserys and his immediate family walked from the royal box to sit with Ragnar and his family, seemingly with no apparent second intentions. Dacey and Princess Aemma were as interested in the archery as the regular Lord, preferring to converse with each other about motherhood and its challenges. Prince Viserys, ever the enthusiast, was the only one other than Ragnar and a handful of Lords to really watch the competition.

" That boy over there, he is good." Prince Viserys said as he pointed at a boy wearing the sigil of House Burley, one of the northern mountain clan Houses.

" Aye... he's not dreadfully awful like most archers down there. He will most likely win the archery... there really is no other competition." Ragnar replied, and Prince Viserys looked at him funnily.

" What are you saying, my Lord? Most archers down there are the best the realm has to offer." Prince Viserys said, and Ragnar shook his head in disapproval.

" Then let us thank the gods that no Myrish crossbowman or Summer Islander is competing here today... for I am certain they would easily rob the gold dragons from honest westerosi hands," Ragnar said, and Prince Viserys laughed. " I'm sure my eight-namedays-old daughter could win this archery with little difficulty." Ragnar lazily commented.

" Ah, yes, that little girl of yours has a good grasp on her magic, has she not?" Prince Viserys commented, " She made quite the light show to Rhaenyra and even created a giant light bear to entertain her."

" Oh, she did? I recall telling her not to practice her magic in the Red Keep halls." Ragnar said loud enough for Lynara to hear; the little girl, who was cooing at little Princess Rhaenyra, had the decency to flinch.

" I was in the gardens with mother, father. I was not in the halls," The little helion said, which made Ragnar and Prince Viserys chuckle.

" Ah yes... a fundamental distinction... how could I be so unfair to you, my little dovah," Ragnar said, and Lynara nodded magnanimously.

" I forgive you, father. Do not be sorry, be better." Lynara said, and Ragnar couldn't help but let out a booming laugh, and even consciously holding his Thu'um back, Ragnar's laughter was heard by almost everyone on the tournament grounds.

" Cheeky girl." Prince Viserys said, and Ragnar nodded.

" Aye... a wise man once said that war was easier than daughters," Ragnar said " After all this time, I can attest to that... I fought creatures of unimaginable horrors in my quest for power and magic... none put as much fear in my soul as my daughters do." Ragnar finished, and Viserys laughed.

" I hope my daughter will not give me many headaches," Viserys said, and Ragnar laughed.

" She will be your headache, my prince." Ragnar said, and Viserys raised his eyebrows in question " Oldest granddaughter of the future King, eldest daughter of another future King, eldest niece of one such as Daemon Targaryen... granddaughter of Alyssa Targaryen," Ragnar listed, and Viserys face paled.

" By the gods... I am definitely, most positively, extremely fucked." Prince Viserys said, and Princess Aemma stopped her conversation to chastise her husband

" Viserys!" She called out her husband, and both Ragnar and Viserys laughed.

" Oh, I am sorry, my love," Prince Viserys said, " It's just that I just received the most disturbing of news."

" Aye..." Ragnar confirmed as his eyes returned to the archery competition. " Who is that boy? I didn't know House Burley had a member with this age," Ragnar asked no one in particular; he was, however, answered by a relatively tall man with brown hair and a growing beard.

" That boy is Billius Burley, sworn to House Blackwood of the Riverlands... his house is a cadet branch of House Burley from the North." The man said, and Ragnar nodded absent-mindedly.

" Ah... a branch of House Burley that followed the Blackwoods when they were exiled from the Wolfswoods," Ragnar commented; he then looked at Viserys " Should I count his victory as a northern one?"

" He was born in the Riverlands; I believe," Prince Viserys said, and Ragnar nodded.

" But the blood of the north runs thick in that one," Ragnar argued, and Viserys shook his head in denial.

" Riverlander." Prince Viserys said, and Ragnar gave the point.

Ragnar and Viserys watched the archery as they talked.

" My Lord, I must say I had a reason to come to you today..." Prince Viserys said, and Ragnar chuckled

" Someone always has a reason to do anything; it's only natural," Ragnar said, and Prince Viserys nodded grimly " Ask away, my prince. By the few words we exchanged, I can say that it will be nothing nefarious." Ragnar concluded.

" Yes... You see, my lady wife is pregnant once more, and your mages are known for not allowing either mother or child to die in the childbed, so I-" Prince Viserys began, but Ragnar interrupted him.

" Aye... It's no problem, my Lord. I shall ensure Princess Aemma and your future child's safety myself," Ragnar said, and the relief that washed over Prince Viserys was almost palpable.

" Thank you, my Lord." Prince Viserys said sincerely, without embellishing his words and without flowery words, which made Ragnar like the young man even more.

" You are welcome, my prince." Ragnar began but was interrupted by Prince Viserys.

" Call me Viserys," Viserys said, and Ragnar nodded.

" Then call me Ragnar," Ragnar began " Well, your aunt is going to Skagos with my family when we return; why don't you and Aemma come as well? I'll assign a mage to look after Aemma during the last moons of her pregnancy, and she will come back to Kingslanding healthier than ever... not having to suffer the pressures of court and all that." Ragnar said, and Viserys looked pensive; their talk was stopped when a sharp noise was heard, and then the beating of wings, and then suddenly the Blood Wyrm flew above the tourney grounds and landed nearby.

" Marvelous creature that Caraxes... did something happen with its egg?" Ragnar asked, and Viserys looked at him as if he had grown another head

" No... why would you ask that?" Viserys replied

"Hum... It's just that Caraxes is a very... singular dragon. Perhaps it ate a Weirwood sap when it was little?" Ragnar proposed, " That is poisonous to most magical creatures, making them deformed or outright killing them... the Children of the Forrest make a powerful drink with it after distilling it several times; giants love it." Ragnar said, and Viserys shook his head as if saying no.

" Would it be a problem if I was to check it up?" Ragnar asked, and Viserys nodded.

" It's no problem, my Lord." Viserys said, " Let us go, them." Viserys concluded as he got up and signaled to Ser Crabb, one of the two Kingsguard guarding him and Aemma, to follow him.

When they got o where the Blood Wrym was, they saw Daemon talking and petting the dragon as if it was an overgrown dog.

"Brother." Daemon greeted, " Ah, Lord of Ice Dragons... are you ready for the melee?" Daemon said when he saw Ragnar and Viserys.

"Brother." Viserys greeted back with a smile.

" I am... are you, my prince?" Ragnar asked, and Daemon chuckled

" Why are you here? I thought after having your own kind of dragons, one would be less curious about our winged companions," Daemon asked

" Dragons are wonderful creatures, be they of ice or fire." Ragnar said, and Daemon nodded " Tell me, do you know if Caraxes ever ate weirwood sap when it was little?" Ragnar asked as he looked at the Dragon

" Not that I know of... why do you ask?" Daemon asked

" Caraxes is a very singular dragon, with some deformities on some parts of its body..." Ragnar said, and the look that passed on Daemon's face could kill someone " I meant no offense; it's just as it is. Weirwood sap is poisonous to magical creatures; it makes their young deformed or outright kill them. I can... feel the lingering "taste" of weirwood sap on Caraxes." Ragnar said, and Daemon deflated a bit.

" Caraxes is healthy as a bull; he's always been. What you say is nonsense," Daemon said, and Ragnar shook his head and began casting silent spells at the dragon, who made a sound of approval after a few moments.

" Aye... it is healthy; its bones are stronger than most dragons, as are all its muscles. I imagine it could take on a Dragon twice its size. Caraxes' body was positively affected by the weirwood sap, as opposed to negatively... that is one lucky dragon." Ragnar listed, and Daemon looked at Caraxes and then back at Ragnar.

" What does it mean for my Dragon?" Daemon impatiently asked

" It means that if you stop locking the dragon on the Dragopit, it will grow to be more powerful than the Black Dread and perhaps just as big," Ragnar replied, and Daemon looked proud of his dragon

" You must, however, find where Caraxes got the weirwood sap from; if any other hatchling eats it, they will most likely die," Ragnar said, and Daemon nodded.

" Good. Now, my princes, excuse my abrupt retreat; I have a melee to win, a wife to make richer, and some southern knights to humiliate." Ragnar said as he turned around and walked towards the bleachers where the melee would take place.

(Time Skip)

Ser Arys Oakheart PoV

Arys inhaled sharply and gulped some air as his squire, Unwin Peak, strapped his breastplate on him, the sigil of his House on his breastplate proudly showing that he was not in that melee to lose.

Unwin tapped him on the shoulders to show he was done with the armor, and Arys quickly got up.

" Helmet," Arys said, and Unwin handed him the helmet, a fine piece of blacksmithing made with good old northern iron, with three oak leaves on the forehead.

" Sword," Arys said, and Unwin quickly grabbed Arys' sword and handed it to him.

"Very good," Arys said " You are getting quite good at doing your tasks; if you keep going like that, you will be knighted in no time," Arys commented, and Unwin smiled at him, clearly happy by such a notion.

When Arys' stepped out of his tent right on cue as if announcing the beginning of the REAL tournament, loud roars were heard. Arys was not a genius, but one didn't need to be a genius to guess what those roars were. High in the sky, several dragons of all shapes and sizes danced with one another. Arys counted eight dragons in the sky, which made no sense as there were only five Targaryen dragonriders; the only explanation would be the ice dragons of House Dovahkiin of Skagos.

Arys looked at the high bleachers and saw that the King and Queen and all Targaryen were looking at the sky as the dragons circled one another in an almost hypnotizing dance. Then suddenly, Vhagar and a white dragon matching her size faced one another and breathed fire at one another; or more specifically, Vhagar breathed fire in the white dragon's direction, and the white dragon breathed something in Vhagar's direction. Both streams met in the middle and exploded in the air, causing steam to appear in the sky like a giant cloud; two seconds later, a loud booming sound crashed over the tourney grounds, causing most lords, ladies, and Knights, Arys as well, to cover their ears and close their eyes.

" Seven hells!" Arys shouted; he then looked at the sky again, expecting to see the dragons tearing themselves apart, only to see them simply dancing in the sky once more.

" The dragons of ice and fire are dancing in honor of my father. ALL HAIL KING JAEHAERYS OF HOUSE TARGARYEN," Prince Baelon shouted, and the previously silent tourney grounds erupted in cheers, the name Jaehaerys being praised beyond counting. After a minute or two, the King got up from his chair in the royal box and raised his right hand, asking for silence, which was granted after a few seconds.

" Competitors of the melee... go to your posts, get ready, and be prepared." The King said, loud and powerfully.

Arys went to where he was designated; there were four different fields, and the last ten men standing in each field would be going to the final, where they would fight the other thirty men from the other fields in a single battle.

Arys looked around to measure up his opponents, and in the right corner, he saw the man, The Lord of Skagos himself, standing taller than any man had the right to be and wearing black armor with silver details and the silver dragon of his house carved on the chest plate. For the first time in his life, Arys was afraid of a man; Arys had seen Vermithor up close when King Jaehaerys visited Old Oak, and he would rather fight the Old King's dragon than the Lord of Skagos.

" This melee will be the most disputed in a long time... with the northerners and stormlanders fighting for it. I wish you all luck in the fights to come; you are sure to need it," The King said as he authorized the melee.

Frenzy... frenzy was what happened in Arys' field; all men except those of the Stormlands, and The North ran from Lord Dovahkiin. The man himself walked lazily towards a knight of House Estermont, a man easily 6'2" but was dwarfed by the northerner lord.

The Estermont knight carried a warhammer, a common weapon for stormlanders with the blood of Durrandon, and Lord Dovahkiin had a blunted two-handed axe, which he held with one hand. Warhammer and axe had two exchanges before Lord Dovahkiin backhanded the Estermont knight, who fell like a sack of wheat despite wearing a helmet. Arys saw the dent Lord Dovahkiin's hand left in the knight's helmet and prayed that such a hit would never land on him. He could not observe further as a knight of the House Fell fell on him; the knight was fast and fought well, aiming strikes at Arys' shoulders and thighs, a few strokes true, however, and with a well-timed swing Arys had the tip of his sword on his fellow knight's neck.

" Yield, Ser," Arys demanded, and the man nodded, dropping his sword

" I yield," The Knight said; Arys, however, didn't reply; he looked around for the next opponent and saw two knights of House Bracken who came at him simultaneously.

Arys never got to fight the two kights as Lord Dovahkiin fell on them like a storm.

" COME AT ME, GODSWOOD POISONERS," The Lord shouted; Arys had the pleasure of seeing the two men widen their eyes in fear. They tried to fight together, defending the gaps they had and attacking at the same time in different places. Arys didn't get to see the fight as another man came at him, shouting his House's name.

" OLDFLOWERS," The knight shouted, and Arys tried his best not to laugh; they met in the middle, sword hitting sword; they disengaged and prepared to engage again; the man of House Oldflowers never has a chance to come at Arys again as he was hit by the flying body of one of the Bracken knights who was fighting the Lord of Skagos. It was like a bull hitting a man, so strong and fast that Arys wondered if the Bracken knight or the Oldflowers man were alive.

Arys didn't waste any time and started looking for more opponents; he looked at where the Lord of Skagos was and saw seven past-out knights on his feet, The Lord of Skagos looked back at Arys and slowly walked towards him. Dread fell on Arys; he was sure it would be very painful. They didn't get to fight as the whistle signaled the end of the fight on Arys's field.

" Fucking hells," Arys said, " Thank the Seven."

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A/N: Ye.

Thank you for your support and may god bless you all 🙏