-„Lord Reginald Lannister of Lannisport." The herald announced the very tall, but slender men with short blonde hair.

His eyes had something restless, Rebekah noted. Somehow, she immediately found the negative details about the contestants.

-„Lady Rebekah, I hope to win this tourney and your heart with this shot." His voice sounded to high for a men, but Rebekah nodded respectfully. „I wish you luck, my lord."

When the Lannister drew his bow, the crowd went silent. Reginald Lannister was the seventh shot, still no one had managed to aim the inner target. Rebekah's nerves were tensed, her fate depended on every shot.

Reginald's arrow missed the target completely, and the crowed booed.

The best shot came from Ser Lucimon Rosby, but Rebekah hoped he would be outmatched.

-„The next contestant is Ser Lyle Crakehall."

OoOoO

-„This is truly sad to look at." Daryl stated, eating an apple while watching Reginald Lannister. Bronn nodded: „Aye, even my horse is more talented than they are."

-„Maybe Lady Rebekah should marry a horse then." The men laughed roughly, but Bronn was not really amused.

He was pondering over a choice which could possibly change his future.

-„The King is enjoying the show." Daryl Gower observed King Joffrey on the place of honor, smirking with satisfaction over Reginald's failure.

Rebekah looked gorgeous in her Waldorf green gown, but Bronn knew her enough to see how fake her smile was. Her brother Dawen was showing off the exact same expression. Mycah Kenning on the other Hand was truly smiling.

The next contestants weren't as bad as Reginald, a few men were handsome, young and good shots. Ser Leodas Lefford almost hit the target and remained the best. When he smiled at Rebekah and bowed down to her, Rebekah's smile seemed a little more genuine.

-„That Leodas is not so bad..." Daryl's words ripped Bronn from his thoughts.

-„They're all bad, my friend. Little wimps alltogether."

-„You're jealous, Ser, that's all" Daryl mocked him and oddly Bronn felt it was the truth. Wich didn't keep him from beating Derly's shoulder. The younger man laughed. „Oh come on, she's pretty, but do you really want your children to be gingers?"

Bronn ignored him. „Podrick, fetch me my bow. Now." He commaned, watching the next contestant fail.

„Please, someone like you can't win this." Ser Daryl Glower said sceptically, but the goldcloak had been born in to a distant branch of a noble family. Of course he thought it impossible for a lowborn to win. „Why not? I am a knight know, and knights can participate."

Bronn argued. His instincts told him to go and take this chance. If it was for the simple challenge, the defeating of those bold Lords or the bright prospect of marriage into a noble House – Bronn could not really tell.

-„A knight without a name." the playful sparkle had left Daryl's eyes.

Within a few minutes, Podrick was back with Bronn's bow, the disbelief written over his young face. „But Ser..." Bronn's look shut him up.

Making his way to the audience, he searched for the herald and tipped him on the shoulder.

-„I'm next. No need to announce me."

-„Excuse me, but Lord- " the men exclaimed, pointing to a small Lord of the Reach.

-„He can wait."

OoOoO

-„Are you excited? You're probably marrying Ser Leodas Lefford" Dewan asked cheerfully. „A good match, my lady." Tyrion added and Rebekah reminded herself she had to stay charming.

-„I am sure he will make a great husband." she agreed. Almost twohoundred people were watching, eager to see who would take her home as a prize. Even King Joffrey was there, smiling viciously, with the Hound who made Rebekah nervous. Lady Sansa was present, as well as Shae, standing next to her as her handmaiden. She smiled when she catched Rebekah's glance.

-„Sister." Dewan's voice catched her attention on the tourney again.

-„Is that..?" she asked in disbelief.

-„Bronn." Tyrion finished, standing up from his seat. „What is he doing down there?"

Tyrion's mecenary walked to the shooting range. The crowd went silent again, this time a few mumurs were to be heard. Bronn had not been anounced.

Rebekah's eyes widened. She was too shocked to sort out her thoughts.

With a swift, easy move, Bronn shot the arrow.

-„There's still one contestant left..." Dewan whispered, but everyone was still shocked Bronn had actually dared to participate.

Rebekah slowly began to regain composure, when the herald announced:

-„The last contestant is the Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne."

Dewan and Mycah leaned forward, sending hopeful glances towards the Viper. House Martell was a better match than they ever dared to hope. Rebekah on the other side was not excited to marry someone who was famous for bedding half of Westeros. She doubted he even planned to truly take her as a wife. Maybe he would expect her to be his paramour.

Oberyn Martell bowed mockingly before the tribune and winked at Rebekah.
Rebekah rolled her eyes, hoping to discourage him. With a quick look to Tyrion, she could see her friend wasn't eager to see Oberyn win as well. „Since when is the Viper trained in archery?" he wondered and Dewan shrugged, already beaming happily. „The Viper has many talents. Imagine Rebekah's children to be Princes of Dorne. Princess Rebekah Martell has a nice ring." Rebekah's brother already saw Oberyn as victor before he even shot.

The Viper aimed on the target, and Rebekah's future was decided with a single arrow.

I'm sorry, that's a mean cliffhanger... who do you think won? Oberyn or Bronn?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it ;)

Liebe Grüße & xoxo