Hello there and welcome to my story. A little warning at first.
I was not planning on writing a new story, not yet. I tried to ignore it but I couldn't keep this idea away from me. I think it is a change. I've seen many Baratheon, Lannister OC's (hell, I wrote some of them. Check out "Running up that hill" if you haven't already; my RobbxOC story) but a Tyrell OC is not a popular choice, I think.
As someone who knows both the books and the show, I feel as if the Tyrells are seriously underappreciated. Especially Willas, who doesn't even appear in the show. And with the season 6 finale, we all know how that ended…
So, this is my story. This is all I wrote so far and whether or not I continue depends on the reaction. I hope it goes down well, as I would love to continue with is.
That is why I want you to tell me what you think. Don't be shy; if anything bothers you, say it. If you have an idea, share it. I'm open for anything and I think (I THINK) I know how to handle criticism.
And now, a little bit about the story.
Clara Tyrell, younger sister of Willas Tyrell and older sister of Loras and Margaery Tyrell. Her age would be 19-20.
It starts before the War of the Five Kings; perhaps a year or so before S01E01, to be precise. So, all is good in Westeros when our story starts.
Knowing myself, I will definitely make this a love story as well, not just a story of a family and one girl. However, I have NO CLUE who I should pair her with. Any ideas are welcome :)
Yup, disclaimer time: I own nothing! *Ha, get it? Jon Snow?*
It all belongs to George R. R. Martin and HBO, all apart from Clara Tyrell.
That would be it. I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think and let's see if I should continue this or not, shall we?
A bang, a mumbled curse word and the sound of something metal repeatedly hitting the stone floor.
I jump, awake and alert, blinking rapidly as I try to push the sleep away. Still shocked and barely aware of my surroundings it does not take me long to realize what had happened. My handmaiden had chosen a not so elegant way of waking me up when she knocked down a goblet from my writing desk.
"Gods be good, Maya," I sigh, taking a deep breath. "You almost made my heart stop with that noise."
"My apologies, my lady," She tells me, looking both apologetic and frightened, as if she was waiting for an outburst of anger from my direction. "The more I try to be quiet, the more noise I make."
"It's quite alright, Maya. My heart is still beating," I reassure her; she breathes out a sigh of relief as I fall back on the bed, groaning. "Oh, I am not ready for this day to start. Why are nights so short, Maya?"
"So that we could do more during the day," she replies, giving me a warm smile. I roll my eyes at her, which makes her laugh. Maya has been with me for years now. I might have a large family but I do not have many friends and Maya here is the closest thing I have to a friend. With her around, I have no trouble with being myself; eye rolls and complaining included. "Complain all you'd like, my lady. It will not get any easier."
"And don't I know it," I sigh as I get up, realizing I could not stay in bed all day, no matter how much I wanted to. "Now, where do I need to be this morning?"
"Your Lady Grandmother has invited you to join her for breakfast."
"Of course she has," I sigh, yet again, as I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand up; slowly, I stretch my arms and legs in every direction, shaking the sleep away. "Well, you said so yourself Maya; it is not going to get any easier. I might as well just take it as it comes."
I almost fall asleep while Maya is doing my hair; years of practice has left her touch gentle, no matter how tight the braids end up being. With my hair pulled back and a lovely, light, blue gown, I make my way through the castle corridors, preparing myself for what is to come.
I should have stayed in bed. I am not rested enough to deal with my Grandmother, especially not this early in the day. One could handle my Grandmother only in limited amounts. Minimal amounts, if possible. Alas, I was not lucky enough to escape her today.
"Clara!" a voice carries through the hallway and I stop in my tracks, recognizing it immediately; I turn and wait for my brother to join me, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek when he does.
"I see she is gathering all of us," I sigh as we link our arms and continue our walk towards Grandmother's chambers. "I wonder what she has in store for us now."
"Probably another diplomatic mission," my brother complains, sounding as irritated as I felt. I keep my pace normal, as I know how much it bothers him when I slow down because of him; he prefers to struggle to catch up with me, whilst having a firm grip on the wooden cane in his right hand.
"Do you believe they would want to send us anywhere again after Dorne?" I ask.
"No, probably not," He replies through laughter. "However, they might not have a choice. Perhaps they just want to keep us away from home during the tournament." He suggests.
"And what good would that do?" I ask him, confused.
"Keep appearances," he smiles down at me. "You have to admit it, little sister. Our family appears much grander without the cripple and the rebel daughter."
"Cripple and an heir," I remind him, annoyed. Just as he always did, Willas continued to belittle himself. Only a few things can bother me as much as that does, since Willas is, without a doubt in my mind, the kindest and smartest man I have ever met. "If they plan to organize this whole parade of wealth and power, they need the whole family here to do so. Even the cripple and the rebel." I add.
"At least they have two other children to parade instead of us." He smiles at me.
It has always been like this, always. I am the middle child, with Willas being older than I am by three years and Loras and Margaery following me. I love both Loras and Margaery with all my heart and there is very little that I wouldn't do for them. That being said, no one, no one, could ever come close to Willas and the bond we have. Ever since we were children, we were inseparable; partners in crime from the very start. My sister and I can have a true heart to heart conversation and yes, I would trust her with my secrets, but in my heart, she will never come close to Willas.
The same goes for the two of them, as well. As much as we get along, it has always been the two of us and then the two of them. Loras and Margaery were just as inseparable as we were. No conflicts have ever risen between the four of us, but if such a thing were to happen, we all know who we would stand with, whose side we would take.
"Easy now, brother," I warn him with a smile. "They are not yet done with us, I am afraid."
"Ah, how difficult it is, not being a favorite child." he sighs, pretending to be saddened by this; I laugh and shake my head, knowing that humor might just be the only way for us to not be saddened by it. Besides, it is all we've ever known. Willas might have a memory of a time when it was different, but I do not. For me it is easy, since this truly is all I've ever known.
We had to stop complaining, as we approached Grandmother's chambers. She was sitting on the balcony, as she always does. Her wine did not wait for the two of us, however.
"Good morning." I say as I lean down to kiss her on the cheek, stepping aside to let Willas do the same.
"Do you ever wear any other color?" She asks me, shaking her head in dismay. "Blue, blue, blue. One would think you were one of the Tully's or Arryn's when they look at you."
"If I wore a darker color, you would complain that I look like a ghost."
"Yes,because you would." She agrees, making both WIllas and I laugh as we shake our heads.
"Oh, my dearest Grandmother. I will never quite be good enough, will I?"
"Nonsense," she shakes her head, as if she was insulted at the mere thought of that. "You are a Tyrell. You are good enough by birth," She tells me, her voice loud and proud. I notice Willas looking away, trying to hold back a chuckle. "However, green or gold would be a more appropriate color for your dresses. And lower cuts, if I might add. You have a good body; it is a shame to hide it."
"Grandmother, please, I do not wish to be a part of this conversation." Willas jumps in.
"Men," Grandmother mumbles, frowning at her eldest grandson. "All women are good to look at, so long as they are not your own kin. Gods forbid if anyone looks at them."
"I have no problem with men looking at Clara, if that is what you are implying," Willas tells her as he takes his seat, opposite of me, with our Grandmother sitting as the head of the table. "I simply do not wish to have that pointed out to me, every time it happens."
"And I agree," I speak up. "The cuts on my dresses are low enough as it is; if they were to be any lower, I am afraid that men would be looking at me for all the wrong reasons."
"Please, stop." Willas tells me, staring blankly at me.
"Enough," Grandmother speaks up; the way she spoke now made it sound as if it was us who came up with this subject, not her. "Easy on the blue. Not Arryn, not Tully. Tyrell." She reminds me.
"Oh, how could I ever forget?"
…
The weather is absolutely wonderful today and as I lean on the balcony, I realize I never should have wanted to stay in bed; handling my Grandmother in the early morning was a small price to pay. The wind played with my hair as I looked before me, holding my cup full of wine; my Grandmother could make a thirsty man pass a lake without looking at the water twice; convincing someone to drink wine this early in the day was child's play to her.
I barely listen to her and Willas. Slowly, their voices become fainter as I focus on the sight in front of me. My home. My beautiful, precious home.
I have travelled plenty of times in my twenty years. I did not explore every corner of this land, but I have seen more than most do and I am yet to find a place that could take Highgarden from my heart.
King's Landing was a beautiful city, but if you marvel at its beauty for long enough, you will recognize the smell of rotting litter as it fills your nostrils. Dorne was beautiful, but if you stay in the sun for long enough, all of its beauty will become unbearable. Highgarden? Highgarden was perfect.
Our streets were spotless, our people well fed and well entertained; many singers enter our walls and choose to stay. We had the sun here as well, but we also had shade, if shade was needed. Warmth but followed by a gentle wind. And endless fields of green.
The castle walls looked like a waterfall of greenery. Walls, walls and more walls, like staircases, all covered in ivy and climbing roses. Stories and fairytales could not describe a place more magical than the place I call home.
"Clara? Are you even listening to us?" I hear my Grandmother ask in a sharp tone.
"Of course I am," I lie, hoping she would not question me further. "The tournament, the noble houses joining us… Nothing new, I am afraid." I smile.
"You, child, will be the death of me," Grandmother sighs. "You do not understand how important this is. This will be a perfect opportunity for our House to form alliances or to strengthen the existing ones. That will not happen if you look like you would prefer to be tortured than to have a conversation with someone. You do not understand the gravity of the situation, my dear."
"Grandmother, I do," I say as I walk around the table and take a seat on her left side. "I understand. I know I am not… what any of you hoped me to be. Until I was ten years old, I thought my name was "what are we to do with you". I would not embarrass you." I reassure her, tired of doing so. For years now, I have reassured her and both of my parents that I will never put our House's good name under threat. For some reason, they seem to think that that is exactly what I will do.
"You do not understand," she shakes her head at me. "Loras and Margaery are like steel. They are strong and well appreciated. But they can be shaped. They can be molded to one's liking. You? You are like valyrian steel. And you as well," she adds, looking at my brother. "The two of you are strong yet light. And not anyone could shape you. Loras and Margaery? They are perfect. But I made them perfect."
Grandmother was never shy with her opinions. I grew up knowing that all of them, including her, preferred Margaery. To be fair on them, I did not blame them. If I was in a different position than the one I am in now, I would prefer her as well. I do feel loved by them, even by my ever so honest Grandmother. That is why their favoritism toward my sister never really bothered me.
Hearing her say something like this was a first. I couldn't help but feel proud.
"Grandmother, you know we never did you wrong," Willas smiles at her. "We do our best."
"Yes, except your little expedition to Dorne," She raises her eyebrow at him. "I did not forget about that."
"And you never will," I sigh, shaking my head at her. "It has been more than a year. We returned alive and well. Is it not the perfect time to leave that be?"
"No, it is not," She shakes her head. "The two of you changed your travel plans without bothering to inform us and went directly into the lair of our enemy. If you had any idea how close that father of yours was to starting a war, you never would have done it."
"Grandmother, we are alive and well and they are not our enemies." Willas tells her.
"Yes, they are," Grandmother fights back. "I do not blame the Red Viper for doing what he did to you," Grandmother sighs and I notice Willas growing uncomfortable. He does not like discussing that, not even with me. We have made a silent pact to ignore that story, just as we did with his bad leg. Our lovely Grandmother, however, is not the one to stay silent. "He did not do it on purpose. If anyone is to blame, it is the dimwit Father of yours."
"Grandmother, please," Willas begs her. "There is nothing left to discuss."
"They are enemies because of what they did afterwards."
"They are not," I speak up. "It is because of us that we need not call them enemies. Father might to it, but they are not our enemies. They treated us with honor."
"And they shall be treated with honor when they join us at Highgarden," she tells me as she shakes her head. "That goes without saying. But their House will not be the only House joining us. And the Red Viper will never ask for your hand in marriage." She gives me a pointed look.
"Must all come down to marriage?" I sigh.
"It must." Willas tells me, smirking at me. I wish he was closer, so that I could hit him on the shoulder.
"Your brother is right," Grandmother agrees. "A marriage alliance is necessary, Clara."
"A marriage to whom?" I ask.
"That is yet to be seen," She tells me, taking a sip of her wine. "We shall see after the tournament. Both of you speak well. You are smart, perceptive. Wherever we send you next, you will find your way. And your marriage, my dear Clara, depends solely on who gives us the best offer."
"Offer of what?" Willas speaks up, surprising me. "Money? Land? As if we do not already have enough of both? Why not let Clara chose her own companion. We have strong ties with all of the Kingdome." He tells her. The truth of the matter is, we have strong ties everywhere, except in King's Landing. While my father did bend the knee to King Robert, and while no further conflict happened after the rebellion, we were not… well loved. I was lucky to be older than King Robert's children; if I was not, I would be the one offered to them. Now, it is Margaery who will take that roll upon herself. Marriage to House Baratheon; whether it was with King Robert's brother, or one of his children.
The best present to the biggest future ally. Which leaves me free and ready to be allied with another House. I wish I had the strength to be angered at this, but I have expected it for a very long time; I grew up knowing that I will not marry a man of my choosing, as Willas just suggested.
"We have money and we have land. We need an alliance," She tells him, before turning her head to look at me. "And that is what your marriage will be."
…
I close my eyes as I take in the warmth of the sun. With my back on the ground, my body was exposed to the warmth. Well, my face and my arms; the other parts of me were covered.
"Your skin will burn," I hear Willas's voice and a moment later, I hear his footsteps; I could hear his cane even on grass. "You do not care, do you?" he asks and I hear him sit down next to me. When I open my eyes, I see he lied down next to me.
"Our old lady grandmother commented how I am pale even in blue. It must be fixed." I joke.
"I wonder how she would feel about you being red with sunburns." Willas laughs.
"I have no doubt that we will soon find out." I say, making him laugh. I smile as I close my eyes again, the sun shining too brightly for me to handle.
"There you are!" I hear my sister's voice and both Willas and I look up to see Margaery making her way to us. "I have been looking everywhere for you."
"Darling, you know we are always in the garden." Willas tells her, smiling. It is true. If Lady Clara or Lord Willas are nowhere to be seen, the garden is the answer. More often than not, this is exactly where we are. I write, Willas takes care of his birds, I read, he reads, or we are simply having a conversation.
"You tend to forget that our largest garden also happens to be a labyrinth, and the two of you always change your favorite location." Margaery bites back.
"Alright, the two of you," I laugh at them. "Let's take it easy, shall we? Why don't you join us?" I invite Margary over and she walks to us, sitting down as both Willas and I turn around to face her.
"Where have you been this morning? Loras looked for you, he wanted to say goodbye."
"Goodbye? Where did he go to?" Willas asks in surprise.
"King's Landing." Margaery tells us, giving us both a pointed look; that look of hers told us more than any words ever could.
"Again?" I wonder as my sister nods. "Gods, he needs to be careful. I know he couldn't care less about what people say, about what people talk, but if anyone finds out about them…" I sigh.
"Renly is the one pushing it," Willas tells us, shaking his head. "Loras is more frightened than he is."
"Renly is a good man," Margeary sighs. "He has his flaws, but he is a good man."
"I never said he wasn't. I just said he doesn't care. He does not have anything to lose. Not as Loras does."
"No," I disagree. "He has just as much to lose, if not even more. He is the King's brother. He will have a lot to lose, perhaps even more than Loras, if people were to find out that he… prefers swords." I add. I was not expecting both Willas and Margaery to laugh as hard as they did.
We knew. Of course we knew. I suspect Margaery knew even before Loras himself knew it. Even with the distinct pairing between the four of us, we were still a close group; we were close siblings and we could read one another with ease. Loras's secret never stood a chance.
Just as it never was an issue. All three of us, even Willas, saw no problem with what his preferences were. However, we saw the danger he would be in if others were to know. Disapproval? No, we've never took that road. Worry? All the time.
"No one knows other than us," Margaery shakes her head. "Well, us and Renly."
"As blind as Father is to it, Loras travels to King's Landing often. People talk and rumors start. I would not care, not normally, but when they put my brother in harm? I care. He needs to be careful. Margaery, you need to talk some sense into him." I tell my sister.
"Why me?" She asks in surprise.
"Because he might just listen to you." I tell her. We cannot do it together; if all three confront him, he would panic, and Gods only know what he would do then. Margaery is the only one from the three of us that has a particularly gentle approach; gentler than mine, and definitely gentler than Willas's. Knowing Loras, he would not handle it well if his older brother was the one to advise him to keep his love affair with a man a secret.
"Alright," Margaery agrees. "I will speak with him when he returns for the tournament."
"Ah, the tournament at Highgarden," Willas sighs. "I wonder why we do not call it simply a tournament that will help our Grandmother find a proper husband for Clara." He says, and this time, he was close enough for me to hit him, while Margaery smiled down at us.
"Is that the true motive then?" She asks.
"Of course it is," I confirm. "You are already going into the hands of a Baratheon, whether it is the King's son or the King's brother. That is, if Grandmother succeeds in her plans and I have no doubt that she will."
"And which House will you join?" she asks.
"I do not know," I answer honestly. "It is difficult to find an appropriate match for Willas and myself. Most of the heirs are too young for us, and the others are already married. Although that is not something that I wish, it would be smart to hand me off to Dorne. That is the one alliance we need to strengthen. As we know, father would never agree to that."
"If he did, would you accept it?" Willas asks me.
"I would, I would not have a choice," I smile. "That does not mean that is something I want. You have seen it with your own eyes, just as I did. As kind and as welcoming as they were, they are beast. Predators. Not only on the battlefield, I am afraid."
"I believe Prince Oberyn would not complain about that offer." Willas tells me with a smirk.
"No, he wouldn't. I would rather not share my husband with another lover, if I have any say in it. Especially not with a lover that is the love of his life." I tell him. He saw it as well. The love between Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand is… real. Palpable and obvious. As a real love should be.
"Where would you like to go then?" Margaery asks me and I shrug.
"I do not know, darling. I do not know these men. Names mean little to me; it is our family that will benefit from our marriages, not us. We will just… marry. And if we are lucky enough, our husbands will be good man. That is all that matters. If I do not know them, how can I know if I want them?" I ask.
"We were born and bred for this," Willas shakes his head. "We do not have a say. That is simply the way it is. Perhaps, if we are lucky, we end up liking the ones they chose for us."
"I doubt it," Margaery sighs. I notice the look on her face and I cannot blame her. Renly would have been a good match for her, if it were not for his affair with our brother. Prince Joffrey? If I was to be promised to him, I would throw myself from the highest tower of Highgarden without a second thought. I have met him. I have seen enough. Enough not to want that to my sister.
"Who do you want? Renly or Joffrey?" I ask her.
I watch as she thinks about my question. I know she must have considered it before; I considered all of my possible matches as well, and mine are not yet know, as hers were. Well, known for us.
Margaery was gentler than I am. She was more romantic, she was a better lady than I ever was. If I had spent sleepless nights, imagining what my marriage would be like, I can only imagine how many nights she did the same.
"Joffrey," She tells us with a sigh. "Renly might be a better man, but him and Loras… and I want power." She tells us.
I knew it before, but hearing her say it, in those words… I was surprised.
"Do not judge me, Clara," She smiles at me as she notices my look of surprise. "We all want different things. And I do want power. I do want to be a Queen."
"I know. That is why I do not judge you," I smile back, before looking at Willas. "One would think we were lucky to be highborn Lords and Ladies. And look at us now? You might marry an idiot, our brother has a male lover, all of your possible matches are still children and Gods only know who I will marry."
"To each its own, Clara," Margaery smiles at me. "We do what we were born to do."
…
I smile as I pull the reins, making my horse stop in its tracks. We turn around, just in time to see Willas approaching on his own horse.
"I thought you were only slow whilst walking, brother." I tease him.
"Poke fun at the cripple, will you," He shakes his head, a bright smile on his face. I laugh. "Why are you in such a rush? Plan to run somewhere?" I ask.
"With all the guests that will join us as soon as tomorrow, I would not mind running away for a little while, no." I admit. When Willas smiles it me, it is a small, kind smile, the one that is only ever reserved for me, or perhaps Margaery. On any other given day, I would consider that smile to be reassuring. Today I do not feel that way. Not with what is going to occur over the next few days.
"And where would you run to?" He asks me.
"I cannot say. Anywhere they would have me."
"I am afraid it was too late for a swift escape," He smiles at me. He shakes his head and looks away. I notice his eyes widen. "And here comes proof." He tells me, raising his hand to show me something. I urge my horse to walk to him, where I follow the direction of his hand. It does not take me long to see it; orange in the midst of green fields is noticeable.
I stop counting when I've reached the number of 20. More than 20 Martell banners.
"Is it an accident that they are first to arrive?" I ask, giving my brother a questioning look.
"Oberyn Martell doing something by accident? I highly doubt it," He tells me through laughter. "Father knows he is coming. He invited their House himself. Let us hope he will stay true to his promise of hospitality."
"Let us hope," I confirm. My Father was not the smartest man, but not even he would be stupid enough to harm the Prince of Dorne in any way. If that was to be done, not only would that be the end of our House, but quite possibly the end of Westeros.
I look at my brother. A cripple he may be, but a cripple with an enormous heart and brains to match. He would be a better Lord than my father ever was. When Willas's time comes, I know the House of Tyrell will continue to prosper, and as our words say, grow strong. Until that happens, we must hope that my Father will not manage to singlehandedly destroy us all.
"Should we meet them?" Willas asks me. "Perhaps it would be better for the greater good if we were the ones to greet the Martells and not father?"
"You are right," I agree. We have been to Dorne and we have stayed there for more than a month. They will know us. "Let's go." I smile at him and before he had a chance to react, I was already away on my horse, leaving him behind.
It does not take us long to reach the Martell cavalry. We do not walk in front of them, but stand on the side, knowing that the one in front would have to be a dear friend of ours. And so it was. The whole cavalry slowed down when they saw us in the distance, waiting for them.
The people stopped, as Willas and I exchanged worried looks. Seconds later, they continue, with one horse and one rider stepping away from the rest of them. They came our way and it did not take us long to realize that it is our friend. Both of us dismount our horses and wait for him to join us. Before I notice anything else about him, I see a huge smile on Oberyn Martell's face.
"Ah, look at the two of you," he calls out with his thick accent I found very attractive; it wasn't just his. All of the voices I heard in Dorne were much more… exotic and interesting, compared to ours. "The two weeds in the rose garden." He tells us. It would not be the first time he called us that.
"I see you still refuse to bite your tongue." Willas laughs as Oberyn dismounts his horse.
"I always will," he announces as he walks over to us, looking as relaxed and as comfortable as he ever did. He looks at me and we exchange smiles. "My dear Clara," he smiles at me. He opens his arms and I do the same, expecting a hug. What I did not expect was a full kiss on the lips as he pulls me closer to him. I should have expected that. That is how he said goodbye to me before I left Dorne.
"Oh my," I laugh when he pulls away. "It is nice to see you as well, Oberyn."
"Oberyn." My brother warns him, obviously not too happy with the greeting I received. Oberyn simply smiles and strolls over to my brother, opening his arms for a hug. Willas smiles at him but as he tries to hug the man, Oberyn does the same he did with me; he kisses my brother, full on the lips.
I could not hold back my laughter, not when I noticed the surprise on Willas's face and the smile Oberyn had when he pulled away. That man does not have preferences; he takes it all.
"I do hope you realize that you should not greet our Father in such a way." I joke.
"I would rather throw myself on a spear than kiss that old frog," Oberyn tells me. Both Willas and I laugh, despite the insulting words Oberyn used to describe our father. I chose not to take the insult too personally; knowing Oberyn better than I did before our trip to Dorne, I know that he does not have the ability to choose his words at all times. Just as I know that he does not mean everything he says. "You, I am glad to see. How have you been, my friends?" He asks.
"Very well, thank you," Willas tells him. "And you? Your daughters? Ellaria?"
"All are well, all eight of them," Oberyn smirks. The man is as fertile as our own land. "Ellaria misses you both terribly, although I have to say, she misses you the most." He says, pointing at me.
"As she would," I smile, feeling uncomfortable. "I miss her as well. Did she not join you?"
"No, she decided to stay at Dorne," Oberyn tells me. "She believes she had already seen the best Highgarden has to offer. I tend to agree with her on that, but I cannot deny my curiosity, can I?"
"Oh Gods help us!" Willas laughs. "How many bastards you plan on having while you are here?"
"Depends," Oberyn smirks and lifts his eyebrow. "If the ladies are as beautiful as your sister, plenty."
"Never a dull moment with you, Oberyn." I laugh.
"And you haven't even seen the best of me," He tells me, biting his lip. Only Oberyn Martell would be brave enough to try to seduce a lady in the presence of her older brother. Truth be told, only Oberyn Martell could be successful in such an attempt. "Cast your prayers, my friends. Oberyn Martell is about to enter Highgarden and Oberyn Martell makes quite an entrance!" He announces.
Willas and I exchange looks, both of us struggling not to laugh. As humorous as it was, I cannot help but wonder if this tournament was a mistake after all.
"Never a dull moment." Willas sighs.