Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

The Daring

Daeron POV

The young prince had wanted to leave for King's Landing on dragonback the moment he received his mother's summon, but was unfortunately denied.

Lord Borros had planned a squires tourney in Storm's End and refused to reschedule. His own squire had to compete and earn his spurts. Sixteen contestants vied for the prize of knighthood. All youths between the age of twelve and eighteen.

Daeron himself was a formidable fighter. Though he had the advantage of being trained by Kinsguard knights whilst living in the Red Keep. And even now Ser Lorent Marbrand acted as his mentor when not fulfilling his duties as a sworn shield.

The Targaryen royal pictured how proud his siblings and mother will be if he returned to them as an anointed knight, not the boy he left. So he was determined to give his opponents no quarter.

He didn't think anyone present will pose too hard a challenge. He's fought and bested most of them at mock battles before in the past four years.

Though one specific person was not to be underestimated. His cousin Benji Blackwood. At only twelve years old, the heir to Raventree Hall stood the tallest in their group. He was a fierce fighter but amiable and a jester. A gentle giant if there was ever one.

He was sent to foster in the Stormlands two years past on the advice of Daeron's grandfather Ser Otto. The bonds between allies must be nourished from childhood, he said.

The dragon prince and riverlander lordling quickly bonded about their estrangement from home and search of familiarity in these lands of harsh winds and merciless strokes of thunder and lightning.

Benji was even more of an interloper with his devotion to the Old Gods. The Storm's End Godswood had a single weirwood and he had to make do to honor his faith.

Daeron joined him sometimes. He was intrigued to know more about this ancient religion declared anathema by most of his father's dominion, his mother's House chief among them.

Daeron saddled his horse well and wore his silver dragon helmet and armor, the latter encrusted with four sapphires, a gift from Heleana on his last nameday. She dubbed him the Daring in her letter. He'll prove her right.

His first adversary was the fourteen year old Erik Rogers of Amberly . He stuck true and won the joust in the second tilt.

His second was Jon Morrigen of Crow's Nest. Three years his senior and a better jouster than the last but no equal to him. Three tilts and two broken spears later, young Jon was thrown from his saddle. He climbed down from his own mount Tessarion and gave him his hand to help lift him up.

Durran Dondarrion, the fifteen year old heir to Blackhaven was his third opponent. A worthy foe and for a moment he thought the one to strangle his dream of knighthood in its crib.

He broke though his foe's shield on the fourth tilt at the cost of an injured arm. If not for the grace of the Seven he might've dropped right then and there, but he held on and aimed his spear to Durran's neck in the next approach.

The Dondarrion heir holted his adavnce lest he met a bloody end and was thrown from his horse at the speed of his action. He hadn't planned on actually harming him but had no desire lose either.

Finally he met with Benji as he thought he would in the final joust. The riverman had bested a Grandison, an Errol and a Tarth to qualify.

His black armor had three white ravens with glowing red eyes. His own helmet shaped like a crow made him look like the Stanger incarnate.

Daeron had no intention of dying today.

The Young Dragon had gone five tilts when signs of fatigue caught up to him. His arm was killing him and the longer he kept going the more tired he felt. If Blackwood felt any exhaustion he made no show of it.

Daeron drove his horse forward and aimed his spear to his his chest sending his shield to the ground. Benji found himself being dragged across the fighting rails, his horse uncaring for his predicament.

Thank you ser Criston.

By the time his mount finished sprinting across the track the riverlander was dropped unceremoniously on his back.

He picked himself too quickly for Daeron's taste and asked to continue in astonishly enough, a contest of arms.

Lord Baratheon laughed audibly as he does and approved the demand.

Great.

If his right arm wasn't writhing in pain he'd be excited to win just his pseudo-father did all these years ago against his uncle at the infamous tourney of the heir.

Shit.

He hopes he is as blessed by the Seven as his mother claims. He'll need a miracle to win.

He draws the sword his page offered him. It was nice having one when most days he had to serve at the Storm Lord's leisure.

Benji came at him with a bloody long sword and nearly took his hand off.

Live steel is essential to test your skills. You're to be knights my ass. Lord Borros wouldn't be so eager to endanger his own heir if he had sired a son.

It worked to their side's benefit with the marriage pact to Lady Ellyn. Until her mother brings forth a male babe, she's heir presumptive to Storm's End. And as her husband he can serve as Lord protector and commander of the Stormlands army after Lord Baratheon's death. What joyous news to inform an eight year old before sending him away.

He dodged Blackwood's attack and retreated a bit. He advanced like the frightening giant he is and struck again. Daeron had no chance at overpowering him with raw strength, even at full health. He might rely another day on tiring him out if he wasn't in need of rest himself.

No. He'll need to end this quick and clean.

He attacks the unprotected part under his armpit. With no shield of his own, his cousin covers the weak point by lowering his weapon and putting his arm at risk. Daeron makes a cut across the limb and pushes forth with his shield. Benji backsteps than kicks the prince to the ground.

His shadow loom over. Daeron nicks at his legs and for a moment Benji falters. The Prince make use of the time to jump back and strike his back. Now lying down once again, Daeron doesn't dally and points his sword to his neck. "Yeild, cousin. "

Benji yields and gives his hand. Daeron mentally thanks all the Gods as he takes his fallen foe's hands and tries to lift his tall form.

"Now this is a fight worthy of knights of the Stormlands. Approach my Prince and receive both the crown and your reward". Lord Baratheon bellows from the high seat.

Daeron was given a flower crown to name the Queen of love and beauty. Any other aspiring knight can give it to the Lady of the house or a family member. But only if he were unmarried or unbetrothed.

Daeron had to give his to Lady Ellyn to avoid offending his hosts. But frankly he didn't find any quarrel with crowning the fair maiden. They were friends. As much as their station and duties allows. And he thinks he could grow to love her.

Riding about Tessarion once more, he bestows the crown to his intended and hears the applause of the spectators and sees the father of his would be bride's smiling visage.

He turns twice through the field allowing the Lord to descend. When the latter finally arrives, Daeron stepps down and kneels. He pointed the blade on his shoulders, invoking the seven and his duties to honor them.

"Do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?"

"I do my lord"

"Arise, Ser Daeron the Daring, a knight of the seven kingdoms".

He stands again, he's never been prouder. Doesn't think he can until he sees Silverwing in the sky, hovering and cheering him on.

He's a knight