Silver Birch

S1E01 - The Tournament

Today's tournament is held to honor the birth of the heir to the throne.

What the tournament means to you, however, is a chance to bring glory to your name not by appearing as comely as the gods made you, but, for once, by showing your skills.

As the bastard daughter of a faithless wife you know how fortunate it is that your father, a great lord, decided to treat you like a trueborn child; everyone, from the lowest servant of your household to the princes of the Realm, is overfond of telling you what an honor it is to be raised like his daughter even though you don't have a drop of his blood in you.

Oh, you know all too well what a terrifying honor it is. You will never be able to forget that, with all the reminders you are given; but today you want to prove that you are worthy. And not only worthy of your place in your father's household. Worthy of a place in this court, in this world. A cruel, hypocrite world, which would have you soon relegated to a cold marriage and endless pregnancies unless you show some promise today.

The first time you had begged him for fighting lessons your father had said no.

But you had surprised him with your comeback, "Targaryen princesses can fight on a dragon. I don't have a dragon but I want to be able to fight all the same", so sassy for a girl barely able to talk properly. He had always had a soft spot for you.

So he had hired an instructor, a skilled master who had taught you the art of fighting with cutlass and dagger, bow and blade, falcion and fists. Many nights you had drifted off to sleep to his voice reading from a book of battle strategy. But when he had died your father had refused to hire a new swordmaster for you. "You're almost a woman. Time to leave behind games."

Your father doesn't know that you're going to fight today. You know he's going to be angry... unless you win. But the risk is worth taking.

You want to prove to everyone that you're not just a lucky bastard with a pretty face; you want your future husband, whoever will your father's choice be, to know that you are as proud and strong as a dragon, despite your origin, and that you expect to be treated consequently.

Moreover, the tournament will take place in front of the royal family. With your identity kept secret, if you win one of the princes or princesses might choose to grant you knighthood. And that would allow you to be seen for who you truly are by the woman you admire more than anyone alive: Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was. You have always considered her to be the True Queen, even though the world did not give her the crown she was due.

You have chosen a silver birch tree for a crest today.

Your name has been extracted for the second turn, and you can't wait to start. You can't remove your helm or you'll be recognized, and its weight is making it difficult for you to breath properly.

When finally your time comes however all your prayers are answered: they have paired you with a knight that has been mocking your mysterious, unknown crest the whole morning. And just a few minutes ago you heard him say something nasty about Princess Rhaenys when that idiotic Baratheon had gone and asked for her favor before losing badly.

He badmouthed Rhaenys Targaryen: you don't want him to lose, you want him to be humiliated.

You allow this feeling to pervade your body. You open the black doors of rancor, letting in the desire to take revenge, to hurt. The desire to defend and to shine.

You take up the spear and your legs close around the back of the horse, who reacts to your call like the most faithful of soldiers.

The horse rears up, charges and at the signal darts, low belly, as quick as an arrow shot from a bow. Your run is such a rapid charge that your spear smashes into your opponent's hauberk before you reach the center of the track. A groan of approval and surprise rise among the crowd, as if your charge has stolen breath from the lungs of those who are watching you.