Arthur took a deep breath and rose from the bench as the heralds began herding the common fighters toward the tent flaps. He stepped out into the blinding sunlight and onto the vast tourney field and as he did a wall of noise crashed over him, thousands of voices roaring from the packed stands that ringed the arena on three sides. The cheers rolled in waves, some for favorites already spotted, others just raw excitement for blood and spectacle.
He paused a moment, letting the sound wash over him. It sent a thrill straight through his chest, better than anything he'd ever felt before. For the first time he felt the size of what he had walked into, and he liked it. His eyes swept the stands, searching for familiar faces. He looked toward the common sections first, hoping to spot Mira or Cassie, or even the children who'd be waving like mad. But the crowd was a blur and the faces were too far and too many to pick out.
The common fighters spread across the field spacing themselves out. Some played to the crowd already, raising weapons high and bellowing challenges that drew laughs or cheers. One juggled daggers, another spun a flail. A few boasted loud about how many heads they would take before the horn blew again.
At the same moment, the gates on the far side opened and the knights and other nbility came out. Plumes waved from helms their surcoats bore proud sigils, and their swords and armour looked finer than anything Arthur had see. He could not help but wonder if the men on the peasant side truly understood how much difference real plate armour made in a fight and how unless they could make the difference up in skill or speed they didn't stand a chance.
Many around him wore no armor at all, just tunics and trousers, while others had only boiled leather that would split under a solid blow. Though to be fair it would matter little to someone like the giant with his maul, blunt force that cared nothing for mail or padding, but against edged weapons the knights held every advantage.
Arthur rolled his shoulders, settling his stance in the sand as he found a spot near the middle, neither too forward nor too far back.
Across the field, the announcer's voice boomed again. "And now, the special combatants! Prince Aerys of House Targaryen! Steffon of House Baratheon!"
The crowd erupted louder than before, a rolling thunder that shook the ground. Aerys and Steffon strode out together from their own pavilion. They played it up fully, raising fists to the cheers, turning slow so every section could see their faces. Aerys flashed a princely smile and blew a kiss towards the ladies in the stand. Steffon pounded his chest like a drum and started making some pure guttural noises as he swung his sword around like he was getting ready to throw it.
Behind them a white-cloaked Kingsguard walked at Aerys's side, his hand resting easy on his longsword hilt. Arthur rolled his eyes at the theatrics but kept his gaze locked on them. He studied the way they moved, but also their equipment. Their swords were the finest steel, and their armour was thick and very well made, at least compared to what he'd seen at Garricks. He wondered what their actual skill would be like once steel met steel, whether all of this was just bravado or they actually had the skill to back it up.
The announcer waited for the noise to die, then raised his voice again. "The rules are simple! Combat continues until yield or incapacity! While death is discouraged it is not banned! Blunt or edged, all weapons allowed by prior entry! Last ten standing share a purse of 100 gold while the final man claims the champion's crown and one thousand gold dragons!"
A hush fell as he paused.
Up in the royal box, King Aegon leaned forward in his cushioned seat and turned toward Rhaella, Mira, and Cassie with genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Rhaella tells me that your husband is competing in this event, is he not? She even believes it possible he could even win the entire melee."
Jaehaerys snorted from his seat nearby, earning a sharp glare from Betha.
Mira dipped her head respectfully, ignoring the mocking sound. "Yes, Your Grace."
Aegon smiled kindly. "Would you mind pointing him out for me? I am interested to see how far he goes, it's not often my Granddaughter speaks of someone so fondly when it comes to fighting."
"Of course," Mira replied. She leaned forward, scanning the field carefully until her eyes found him. She pointed across the sand. "There, Your Grace. In the plain armor near the center with the blonde hair."
Aegon followed her gesture and hummed thoughtfully. "He has some good quality armor on him. Simple, but well made. Do you not think so, Dunk?"
Ser Duncan the Tall, standing just behind the king's chair, leaned in to look. "Aye, Your Grace. Clear simplicity to it, reminds me of my own plate back in the day. Plates are thick but jointed well. Someone knew what they were doing when they forged it."
Jaehaerys cut in. "And how exactly does a peasant afford such a set of armour?" He asked with clear distaste in his voice.
Rhaella turned on her father quickly. "That is no concern of yours, Father. It is Arthur's business snd his alone."
Jaehaerys smirked. "Unless he got the money by stealing, then I'd say that is the business of the crown," he replied.
"Jaehaerys!" Aegon said chidingly. "Do not make accusations like that against our guests, especially when they are completely unfounded."
"Arthur, Mira, and Cassie both live at and volunteer in an orphanage in Flea Bottom. They are the furthest things from thieves," Rhaella added, flashing her father a clear look of displeasure.
Queen Betha fixed her son with a stern look. "Apologize, Jaehaerys. Now."
Jaehaerys flushed as he felt humiliation seep into every part of his being, "My... apologies," he managed to get out, though it looked as if it took everything it had for him to do it.
Oxana who was seated nearby, chuckled wuietly and leaned toward Rhaella. "Looks like your Father's about to pass out from the shock of having to apologise to a peasant, he really won't—"
The exchange was cut short by the announcer's voice booming across the field one final time.
"On the signal of the horn... the melee will begin!"
The herald raised a great curved horn to his lips.
Every man on the field tensed.
Arthur drew Sunset.
*BWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAA*
The field exploded into chaos as dozens upon dozens of men clashed in a storm of swords. Farmers, hedge knights, sellswords, blacksmiths, apprentices. All of them roared as they charged towards each other. Numerous weapons clashed whether it was a simple axes or swords of the finest quality.
Arthur was breathing heavily already from beneath the helmet he wore. His eyes darted around the field as he tried to stay aware of everyone in his vicinity.
"AAAHHHHGGGG!!"
Arthur turned and quickly stepped back as he avoided the downward chop of a simple wood cutting axe. Switching to a two handed grip he slammed the pommel of his sword into the man's stomach before backhanding him with his gauntlet and sending him to the ground with a bloody nose. He hoped that would be enough for the man to give up, he didn't want to kill anyone if he could help it.
He put his sword to his chest. "Yield!" Arthur commanded.
But instead of yielding the man reached for his axe only for Arthur to kick it away. "Yield now!" He commanded.
The man held his hands up pathetically. "I yield! I yield!" He said in a panic as Arthur drew his sword back.
Arthur took a breath before he turned back around. As he scanned the field he had to admit he was more than a little surprised. Men were impaling others with their swords, some aiming for their necks, others straight up decapitating them. While he knew that death was only discouraged and not banned he didn't think that people would causally disregard other people's lives.
Arthur snapped back to it as more people came his way.
Arthur charged at them.
The first man had a short sword and a shield and the second man had a spear. Arthur closed the distance to the man with the short sword first, where he brought Sunset down in a heavy overhead strike that the man blocked with his shield. The impact rang out loudly and the man staggered back from the force, which Arthur followed up with a quick thrust that the man parried with his short sword. The man countered with a slash at Arthur's side, but Arthur shifted his weight on his left foot and redirected the attack by grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it, which sent the short sword flying out of his hand. Arthur then kicked the man's knee, which buckled it and dropped him to the ground.
The spear man thrust forward at that moment hoping to take advantage of the situation, but Arthur sidestepped and bat the spear shaft aside with Sunset's flat side. The spear man pulled back quickly and thrust again, this time at Arthur's legs, but Arthur jumped over it and closed in with a downward chop that the spear man blocked by holding the shaft horizontal. The man clearly had no clue what kind of sword he was dealing with.
Sunset carved through the shaft of the spear easier than a knife cuts through cake. Sunset continued through the broken guard and slashed across the man's chest, ripping open his leather armour and his tunic.
"FUCK!!!" The man cursed as he dropped his broken spear and stumbled a moment as he saw the rising tide of blood that was pouring across his body.
Arthur then released one hand from Sunset and used a shibukawa technique to grab the spear man's shoulder, pull him off balance and slam him face first into the sand. Both men groaned on the ground, where Arthur pointed Sunset at them and demanded they yield, and they nodded quick in surrender.
In the royal box the royal family watched the field below. Aegon leaned forward with his eyes on Arthur, and he nodded to Ser Duncan who stood nearby. "That husband of yours fights well Mira," Aegon said.
Ser Duncan agreed with a grunt. "He does... his sword is quite interesting as well."
Betha turned to Mira and Cassie who sat tense beside Rhaella. "Your husband indeed might have what it takes to win," she said giving them a kind smile.
Jaehaerys pointed out from his seat. "He has yet to fight any real knights yet. Wait until he faces someone with proper training."
Mira gripped Cassie's hand tight, as nervousness flooded her body, her eyes stayed locked on Arthur as he moved through the field. "Come on, Arthur," she whispered.
Cassie squeezed Mira's hand back. "He'll make it. Look at him go."
...
On the northern side of the melee arena a group of four men exchanged nods. They had waited for the right moment. Now, while most fighters were scattered and distracted, they began to move.
Their eyes fixed on one man.
...
Arthur was in the middle of a duel with a sellsword who fought with a long, curved blade and a wide stance that he had never seen before. The man was quicker than most Arthur had faced that day, light on his feet and deceptive with his swings. Arthur shifted his grip, parried high, ducked low, then stepped left, switching Sunset into his off-hand. The sellsword blinked at the sudden change, confused for just long enough for Arthur to take advantage, twist to his right and hook the sellsword's blade away with Sunset's guard, he drove his knee into the man's thigh.
As the sellsword stumbled, Arthur used his left shoulder to slam into him, wrenching the weapon from his hand. The sellsword collapsed, and Arthur stepped forward, pressing the tip of Sunset to his throat.
"Yield..." Arthur said as he looked down at him.
The sellsword coughed and smiled as he looked up. "Rudge sends his regards," the man gasped.
Arthur's stomach clenched and he felt a bad feeling tingle at the back of his mind, but before he could do anything else something struck him from behind. A mace slammed into the side of his helm, and his vision blurred as the impact sent his thoughts scattering. Pain shot across his skull, and his legs staggered beneath him. He fell to one knee as another blow hammered into his shoulder, sending a spike of pain through his chest. A boot then slammed into his side and another opponent drove his foot into Arthur's back.
...
In the box, Cassie rose from her seat, a hand over her mouth as she saw Arthur collapse beneath a wave of attackers. Mira leaned forward, her face pale, Rhaella clutched at Mira's arm. All three stared in horror.
"Hes down!" Cassie cried out.
Rhaella tried to stand, but Mira gripped her hand and pulled her back. "He'll get up," Mira whispered, though her voice trembled. "He always gets up."
"They're ganging up on him... they can't do that!" Cassie said in horror as she watched Arthur being beaten mercilessly.
Ser Duncan's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward with a frown carved deep across his face. "I'm afraid they can my lady," he said. "Dishonourable as it is, there are no rules against it. It happens more often than you'd think. Skilled men get taken down early by cowards who group together."
Mira squeezed both Rhaella's and Cassie's hands tight, her knuckles white. "He'll fight," she whispered, staring down at the ring. "Don't worry he'll get out of this."
Oxana sat with her fingers laced and her legs crossed, her lips curled into something just short of a smile.
...
Arthur was down on one knee, trying to see straight as four attackers circled around him. His head rang, and every part of his body hurt. One man had a thick axe. Another held a hammer. The others had blades but he couldn't tell what type or how long they were as his vision was a blur. The only reason he hadn't been killed yet was his armour had managed to fend off the worst of the blows, but a lot of them still hurt.
He moved up from his knee and turned just in time to see a sword coming at him. He twisted his hips, caught the angle on his vambrace and pushed forward. He slammed the man with his shoulder and stabbed Sunset through his thigh. The attacker screamed and dropped his weapon as blood gushed from his leg. Arthur pulled the blade free and tried to straighten himself out, but another man threw himself on top of him. Arthur was tackled, his shoulder slammed into the dirt, and Sunset was knocked from his hand.
"Got you now," someone laughed.
A second attacker stepped forward and stabbed downward with a dagger aimed for his ribs. It slammed into the steel plates, glanced off the reinforced mail underneath, and failed to break through.
Arthur twisted his legs and brought one foot beneath the man pinning him down. He hooked the back of the attacker's knee, kicked upwards, and threw his hips sideways. The man's balance collapsed. Arthur grabbed his wrist, rolled with him, and twisted his body. Using the man's momentum and weight against him, Arthur shifted his balance, coiled his left arm under the attacker's armpit, and bent it upwards at the elbow while pulling back on the wrist. With his legs planted, he forced the man to the ground and flung him aside. The man landed hard, his helmet flying off and the wind being knocked out of him.
But despite being free of him Arthur was now unarmed. He considered using his hidden blade, but he wanted to keep that a secret... for better opponents, not cunts who work for fucking Rudge. He stumbled to his feet, blood trickling from his lip, his vision still cloudy but recovering fast. The men circled him again, and one of them, now holding Sunset, raised it with a grin.
"Now what, pretty boy?" the man jeered.
Arthur wiped his mouth and flexed his fingers. "Come find out," he muttered.
A blade came at him again. Arthur sidestepped and moved out of the way, then another man rushed him. The blow from earlier still echoed in his head, but he couldn't let that stop him. He had a choice to make—either fall here or show them what he was capable of. His breath calmed down and he narrowed his focus, something inside him shifted.
He activated [Demon Back]
The muscle fibres in his back flexed unnaturally as he snapped forward, caught the man's wrist mid-swing and wrenched it down with all of his strength. At the same instant his other hand smashed up beneath the man's chin, with his fingers hooking hard into them.
*CRACK*
There was a crunching detonation as the man's jaw blew apart. Teeth burst loose, several snapping free and spraying out with blood and spit as the lower jaw dislocated violently to one side. Arthur kept pushing, forcing the head back until the neck bowed wrong and the man's throat stretched and crushed beneath Arthur's palm.
The man tried to scream but It came out as a wet, choking gargle, bubbling through blood that poured down his chin and onto his chest. His eyes went wide and unfocused as his airway partially collapsed. Arthur then drove his knee into the man's stomach while he was still upright, the impact knocking the air out of him in a violent rush. The man folded instantly, retching blood and broken teeth as his grip failed completely.
The man's sword slipped free and Arthur kicked the hilt up and caught it cleanly, then stepped back as the man collapsed onto his hands and knees, convulsing and gagging. His jaw hung at a sick angle and his throat was quickly swelling making it hard for him to breath; it all came out in whistling gasps as blood soaked into the dirt beneath him.
The sheer brutality of what the others had just saw gave them pause for a moment, but it seemed that Rudge had not picked his men for their intelligence as they continued charging against him.
Now with a weapon in hand Arthur spun and used the momentum to roll over the first attacker's back. As he passed over the shoulders, he grabbed the man's shoulder to anchor himself, and then kicked both boots into the next man's chest sending him sprawling across the ground.
'Thank you [Acrobatics],' he thought to himself as he went to finish him off.
However the disarmed sellsword from earlier saw his chance and charged again, trying to tackle Arthur from behind. But Arthur twisted his hips, stepped wide, and caught the man's arm with his elbow. He spun with it and flipped him flat onto the ground. Arthur turned again, but this time the two remaining attackers came together and worked as a team. One of them was holding Sunset, the other still armed with the hammer. The hammer came first and Arthur managed to dodge it, but Sunset carved into the side of his armour before he could counter attack and he sliced through his armour carving a gash through his side.
Arthur's breath caught as he felt the sting from the strike. It didn't hurt, Sunset was so sharp that he didn't even feel the pain of the cut, but he felt a certain sort of humiliation and bitterness at his own sword being used against him. He had to put those feelings away however as the fight wasn't finished yet and he felt a sudden rush of air behind him.
He turned, expecting another weapon to strike, but the blow never came. Instead, a figure crashed into the man holding Sunset, and both of them toppled to the ground. The sword flew from the man's grip, bounced once off the packed dirt, and slid to a stop inches from Arthur's foot.
The squire who Arthur had helped heal had tackled the man to the ground, driving his fist into the man's face and pressing his forearm across his throat. Arthur stood in place for a moment, trying to understand what he was seeing. But it didn't stop him from stepping forward and picking up Sunset. His fingers closed around the familiar grip, and a pleasant feeling passed through him. He felt whole again.
The hammer-wielder turned in confusion towards the squire and his friend. That was all the opening Arthur needed. He stepped forward and slashed downward at the back of the man's leg. The blade bit cleanly into flesh and tendon, and the man crumpled with a howl. He collapsed to one knee, lost his grip on the hammer, and fell over sideways.
"Yield!!! I yield!!!" The man yelled in pain, as did his friend.
Arthur stood over both of them, Sunset in his hand once again, if he wasn't trying to be noticed by a Lord or Knight he would've killed these men, but he had to respect their right to yield, as much as he didn't want to.
The squire climbed to his feet, breathing hard but grinning. "Are you well?" the squire said with a short breath. "You looked like you needed help."
Arthur blinked, still catching his breath. He glanced at the man who had nearly gutted him with his own sword and then at the squire who had knocked him aside. His body was throbbing, and blood covered the edges of his armour, but he looked otherwise unharmed.
"I could've handled them," Arthur said, "but thank you all the same..."
The squire wiped the back of his hand across his cheek and smiled again. "I know," he replied. "But they got a good hit on you from behind.... the cowards. You helped me earlier, even though I was no one to you. I figured it was only fair."
Arthur exhaled through his nose and gave a small nod. "You paid your debt."
"I hope so," the squire said. He adjusted the belt of his sword, looked once more at the unconscious men, then turned away. "Now I wish you luck, but I'm off to go win the melee, eh?" He raised a hand in parting as he ran off into the crowd of fighters still locked in combat.
Arthur stood still for a moment, his mind replaying the last exchange. The ambush had nearly worked. If the squire hadn't struck when he did, Arthur might have actually been killed or at the very least injured. He looked down at Sunset, then at the men sprawled across the dirt around him. Two were unconscious, one was dead, and another groaned faintly as he tried to crawl away on his side.
Arthur walked over to that one. The man was trying to drag himself across the ring with one arm, his legs barely moving. Arthur stepped beside him, lowered Sunset until the edge of the blade brushed against the ground, and tilted his head slightly.
"You can tell Rudge," Arthur said. "I'll be seeing him very soon."
Then he dropped to one knee, set his hand behind the man's head, and drove his elbow forward into the side of his skull. The man's eyes rolled back and his body slumped motionless.
After he stood back up he took a deep breath, he wishes he could've taken the time to check himself over and have a break but he couldn't.
There was still a melee to win.
(AN: So the start of the melee ends with rudge and his crew being defeated. Tbh they were only a side part of this melee and not the main meat and potatoes which we'll be getting to next chapter. Hope you enjoyed.)
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