Chapter 09 – Duncan Breakshield

It was no secret he didn't hold the Reach's nobility in the highest of regards. Margaery's words about moving on held merit but when he glanced at them only saw the men who helped the Mad King, starved Stannis, and assaulted Edric.

Even so, he couldn't deny that these men were amongst the best in jousting, and facing any of these young nobles using their rules of combat would be a difficult task.

Or so he thought.

His first opponent was clearly not fit to be a knight

The boy, Samwell Tarly, sweated like a pig and was overweight to the point of having a double chin. In fact, the attendants were laughing at him, at least they were until the herald announced his opponent as the Knight of Axes and laughter died down so they could whisper.

Despite his mismatched armor set and the fact that he rode a rounsey when his opponent rode a courser, wearing pristine armor displaying the striding huntsman of house Tarly, there was little doubt of who looked more like a knight.

Jon frowned at his terrified opponent. He would take no pleasure in further humiliating him, but a victory was needed to progress.

The tourney grounds consisted of a huge plot of flat land with a single railing separating the riders, who then would ride from each side attempting to knock down the opponent.

At the signal, Jon charged forward, his opponent doing the same, albeit in a much slower fashion and with clear reluctance.

Keeping his eyes trained on the approaching noble, Jon prepared to lower his lance but quickly stopped when his opponent's mount came to a sudden halt, almost throwing the fat boy to the bleachers.

The bastard approached and saw that the Reachman was terrified. "What happened?" Jon decided to ask.

"I don't want to be here." He heard the boy say.

"Then don't, drop your lance and go home." At this point, he even felt somewhat sympathetic for the noble.

"My father would punish me if I didn't compete."

"You shouldn't compete." Jon said matter of fatly.

"What happened?" the gamemaster asked.

Before Samwell could respond, Jon spoke. "His saddle was loose."

The older man just nodded, and returned.

As Jon dismounted, pretending to help Tarly adjust the saddle, the overweight lad asked. "Why did you lie?"

"I'm helping us both." At that point, he was thankful his helmet covered his entire mouth so people in attendance couldn't read his lips. "I need to win here, but I take no pleasure in humiliating someone who clearly shouldn't compete. So, here's what we are going to do – we ride for some rounds, I'll give you some free hits and openings and purposedly miss some thrusts, and after that, I'm going to knock you down in the least humiliating manner possible."

The boy just nodded in shock.

"I'll nick your shield, hold tight so you don't get knocked back."

As they resumed the joust, Jon purposefully overextended his thrust, grazing at the upper part of the shield, causing the boy to shake but not fall from the saddle.

"Good." he said as he rode by Tarly. "Now here's what you are going to do…"

The joust lasted for nine rounds, with Jon alternating between missing the target, giving free hits and simply delivering strikes that weren't so strong to the point of knocking the boy down.

In the last tilt, he warned the boy to brace himself and hit the opponent with force, unhorsing him and winning the match.

The crowd, who lost their valuable time in a lackluster joust didn't outright jeer, but their applause was lacking when compared to the other riders.

With a bit over fifty contestants, the gamemaster had to adapt things a bit for the single jousting format. So, younger contestants, such as Jon himself, had to face each other first before the numbers were narrowed down to an even two and thirty. Thus, his victory over Samwell Tarly was one of the first jousts of the tournament.

The champion would have to win five matches to be crowned. Thankfully, he wouldn't need to go all the way to the finals to teach Edgerran a lesson.

After the arrogant Oakheart dispatched his opponent, one of Paxter Redwyne's sons, all Jon had to do was defeat the opponent riding in front of him to ensure a duel.

Alyn Ambrose wasn't as impressive as Loras Tyrell, Lord Beric, and even Edgerran Oakheart. The boy seemed to be around Jon's age, but was smaller and, in his honest opinion, uglier than him.

In fact, if put beside Jon, it was highly likely people would think Alyn was a bastard, not him.

Still, in a battlefield, or, in this case, a tiltyard, appearances were worth nothing.

Jon prepared himself guiding his brown rounsey to the spot. Alyn, instead sneered at him and went to the bleachers, stopping by Elinor and asking for her favor to wear.

The younger Tyrell girl looked less than impressed but acquiesced. With the green cloth tied around his wrist, Alyn looked smugger than ever.

As the signal was given, Jon kept his eyes trained on his opponent.

Alyn did not, already believing himself the victor due to Jon's subpar display at the preliminary round.

Thus, Jon could only imagine the squire's surprise when Jon's lance connected perfectly, catapulting the boy from his horse onto the ground in a painful fashion.

"Never underestimate your opponents." Jon said to himself as he rode past the now downed and humiliated Alyn Ambrose as the crowd gaped.

Jon glared at the opponent on the other side of the yard. It was somewhat fitting that his joust against Oakheart would be the last one of the day.

As pleasant as knocking Ambrose to his arse was, it also meant that Edgerran saw through his guise in the first round and was more guarded. A somewhat sadistic part of him wanted to keep the fight going as long as possible, so Oakheart could truly suffer.

Still, Jon was not a Barristan the Bold or a Kingslayer in terms of skill, so he knew toying with his opponent would catastrophically backfire on him. So, he settled for simply defeating the Reachman.

After his display at the earlier match, the attendance was more intrigued about the elusive Knight of Axes than anything.

As the signal was given, Jon rode against his opponent, keeping his eyes trained on his movement. Oakheart lowered his lance sooner than him, so the bastard had to brace his shield arm, forgoing the opportunity to strike. The attack hurt just a bit, and soon he was turning around for the second tilt.

Keen on not losing his opportunity to strike this time, it was Jon who attacked first, something he almost immediately came to regret when Edgerran not only used his shield to block his strike but also delivered a firm counter-attack, which almost dismounted him.

Forced back into the defense, the next two tilts consisted of Jon doing his best to fully block, Oakheart's lance strikes, something that was starting to demand a toll on him, his left arm was already sore, and his opponent's superiority over him with the lance was plain for anyone to see.

It pissed him quite a bit, as Jon knew he was a better rider and swordsman than Edgerran, yet he was foolish enough to try and beat him at the only thing he didn't hold an advantage.

Ser Rodrik drilled him and Robb at the usage of the lance, but they never actually jousted as they were too young and Northmen didn't favor lances and heavy armor in the same way people below the Neck did. The Greatjon for instance wore chainmail rather than the plate armor of the Reachmen and wielded a greatsword rather than the lance and shield favored by the knights.

Even then, Robb always handled a lance in a more skillful manner than him. Ser Rodrik's lessons consisted of riding atop a horse and charging at a sandbag. Robb, always timed his strikes well, whilst Jon struggled with his precision. On the other hand, despite not being as strong as Robb, Jon's strikes were more devastating, as his horsemanship was better.

Then it dawned on him.

If Jon was better on horseback, if he somehow managed to deny the lance advantage to Oakheart he could possibly win.

As to test his hypothesis, the next tilt, Jon purposefully aimed his blow a little below Edgerran's waist, and saw the squire block it with a shield whereas a skilled rider would simply have controlled his horse and dodged it instead.

He saw the puzzlement in the crowd when he suddenly shifted his lance to his left hand and placed the shield on his right. Lord Beric once told him and Edric that the biggest threat to the knight was always to his left, at least so during a joust.

By shifting hands, he could throw off Oakheart's advantage and capitalize on his own. Despite being right-handed, Jon had incorporated left-handed wielding in his swordsmanship during his lessons with Starfall's master-at-arms, either using it alongside his right with a greatsword or in a quick switch whenever a possibility presented itself.

One thing he saw from the knights riding at the tournament is that despite varying in efficiency, they always did the same things when it came to riding, attacking, and parrying.

The bastard knew Edgerran wouldn't know how to handle a foe who fought differently. In fact, at the next tilt, Jon easily blocked his strike, whilst also hitting the squire with an awkward strike at his right shoulder.

With Oakheart's advantage fully reigned, Snow was now able to mistime his strikes a little bit without the fear of a counter-attack, and the next two rounds saw him delivering fully powered strikes at the wooden shield.

When his opponent attempted to go on the offensive once again, Jon was quick to punish, using his shield to bash at the boy's open torso.

Despite not being able to see Oakheart's face, the bastard knew from his behavior how frustrated the noble was.

And frustrated people made bad decisions.

When Oakheart fully charged at him, without any sort of preamble, Jon did the same, now with a perfectly clear target in his sights. Rather than predictably targeting the small opening between the shield and lance presented to him, he aimed the lance in a full thrust at the oak shield instead.

His lance broke, and so did Edgerran's prized oak shield, it was already cracked from Jon's strikes in the previous tilts, Jon would have fallen if he hadn't prepared himself for the impact. His opponent, however, wasn't. And if the sight presented to him was any indication, it wasn't only the oak shield that was broken.

A courteous opponent would've stopped and helped. Jon was not, and with a passing glance at the awkwardly bent arm, he solely muttered. "For Edric."

By the end of the first day of jousts, Jon found himself once again seated at the lower tables, only this time he had to hide a smirk anytime he glanced towards the noble squires and saw Oakheart's broken left arm.

Truth be told, he felt extremely proud of himself. Not only he avenged the slight against Edric, upholding his promise to Ashara, but also did so by defeating a skilled opponent, who, unlike him, had plenty of experience in this type of fight.

The fact he broke the oak shield that Edgerran seemed so proud of due to his house's name made Jon even prouder of himself.

Begrudgingly, he had to admit that Oakheart was a worthy opponent, and if not for the fact he attempted to assault Edric, Jon would've been appreciative of him. Jon, after witnessing the intricacies of knighthood, decided he did not want to become a Ser, as their code of honor and behavior vastly differed from his. Still, he was thankful for the chance to ride as a mystery knight.

Once again, he decided to leave the festivities early.

He already saw enough of the Reach, and was planning to leave early.

Before he could leave the castle proper, he was stopped by a pudgy boy, who he later recognized as Samwell Tarly, the first of his opponents.

"I wanted to thank you." The noble blurted out.

Jon raised his eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't know you, my lord."

"You are the Knight of Axes." Tarly blurted out, causing Jon's eyes to widen.

"How the f…"

Samwell cut him off. "Your left arm. By the end of the fight against Edgerran you were clutching it in pain, I saw you doing the same earlier in the tables."

He sighed at being caught. "I guess there's no denying then, my name is 'Duncan'."

Tarly nodded. "I won't tell anyone. I simply wished to thank you for helping me during our joust."

"I was helping myself." 'Duncan' replied curtly. "My next opponent thought I was such a weak opponent he charged at me headfirst, giving me an easy victory."

"You could've humiliated me." Tarly said. "But you didn't, so I'm thankful for that."

He shook his head. "I don't take pleasure in humiliating people, you seemed to know more than anyone you didn't belong in that yard, there was no reason for me to further reinforce that point."

"My father forced me to compete." The fat boy said. "Said it was expected of the heir of house Tarly to pursue knighthood, even if I had no talent."

"Then your father is dumb." The bastard decided. "I heard from Lord Beric that Willas Tyrell became a cripple due to injuries he suffered in a joust, what do you think would've happened to you?"

"I guess he did not care much." Samwell, said surprising Jon with his tone. "After all it would be easy for him to set me aside for my brother Dickon."

Jon tried, albeit unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle at the name of Samwell's sibling. "Sorry."

The older Tarly sibling merely shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing upon his lips. "Dickon is stronger, faster, and more skilled than me, even being four years younger. It's only fair I ended up with a better name." He paused for a few seconds. "Still, thanks to you my father didn't have more things to hold against me."

"Your father sounds like a cunt."

The older son didn't seem to appreciate Jon's thoughts but said nothing of them. "My father is a great commander; it's well known that it was his van who delivered King Robert's only defeat during the rebellion. He wants an heir capable of following his footsteps, I'm not that, but I'm still his eldest son."

"I guess we all try to be like our fathers in one way or another." Jon spoke from his own experience. "But it takes a huge degree of maturity to know that you aren't able to do it."

"Duncan, there you are." A new voice hailed from afar.

He turned to see Elinor heading towards him. She curtsied to Sam before staring at him with a strange look. "Lady Margaery requested your presence."

Jon sighed, before turning to the Tarly heir. "I fear my presence is requested elsewhere."

The pudgy boy just nodded, taking his leave.

This left him alone with Elinor, who gestured for him to follow her.

"You defeated Alyn." The younger Tyrell girl commented

At that point, he realized he wasn't that good at concealing his identity. "How did you know?"

"Margaery noticed…and you just confirmed her suspicions."

"I will keep my mouth shut from now on." He announced, earning a chuckle from the lady.

"My parents are considering betrothing me to Alyn." By her tone, Elinor didn't seem too pleased with that.

Jon felt a bit of sympathy towards the girl. One of the few upsides of being a bastard was that it was highly unlikely for him to be offered a match his family couldn't refuse. It was something akin to a double-edged sword as he also wouldn't be considered a worthy match for a highborn lady.

Still, it protected him from having to marry someone lacking in the looks department.

"Are the Ambroses that powerful?"

Elinor shook her head. "No, they aren't amongst the Reach's most powerful houses."

"Then why should you marry him? Aren't daughters of great Houses supposed to marry lords of greater standing?"

"I'm afraid things are a bit different in the Reach than the North. House Stark is your ruling house, isn't it?"

He gulped, but nodded nonetheless. "They are."

"How many Starks are alive?"

"Eight." Ten.

"How many can be married off in for alliances in the next five years?"

Jon paused for a few seconds. "Two. Maybe three."

"Just the main line of House Tyrell has four, although Garlan is supposed to marry Leonette Fossoway in the near future. If we account for the roses from lower in the bush that number easily reaches the two digits. Thus, members of junior branches are far less valuable in marriage. If anything, my father says I should be thankful to be married to an heir."

He never considered that, to be honest. He always wondered how things would've been if Rhaegar never kidnapped his aunt Lyanna, but never accounted this would also mean a bigger family. As much as he felt for Elinor, he was happy that it was highly unlikely his sisters would even be forced into an unfavorable match, as his father would be in a better position to deny those offers.

"A better match for you may appear yet." He attempted to comfort the girl.

"Why? Are you offering yourself?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jon did his best to not react to the lady's words. Elinor was a very pretty girl, almost as pretty as Margaery. Still, around Sansa's age, but who would grow prettier still.

"I don't seek marriage, my lady."

It was a half-truth. It was not that he didn't want to marry, heck he even imagined how things would've been if he were to marry Alys or even Allyria, but the fact Jon knew he would most likely be not a good husband. Women were attracted to chivalric, gallant, charming highborn lordlings…he was merely a bastard with a penchant for brooding.

"A shame then."

He wisely kept silent until he was escorted to a solar.

Elinor didn't knock, and ushered him inside a luxurious solar, with plenty of greenery, courtesy of both the flowers and the tapestries and banners displaying the golden rose of House Tyrell.

Waiting for him was Margaery, alongside a boy slightly taller than her, who Jon could assume was the youngest of Mace Tyrell's sons – Loras Tyrell.

If Margaery tied with Allyria and Dyanna as the prettiest lady he ever saw, baring Ashara of course, Loras was easily the most handsome. Girls in Winterfell seemed to believe Robb was the most handsome of the bunch, with Theon coming as a second. Alys once admitted that she thought Jon would've topped them both if he put on an effort. Even if his female friend's words were true, Jon knew that he would still lose in looks to Loras, who could've also been easily passed as Margaery's twin.

The siblings shared some distinctive facial features and hair color, albeit Loras' was curlier than Margaery's. In fact, the only notable difference Jon could spot at first glance was that Loras' eyes were a shade lighter than his sister's, almost as if molten gold.

"My lady." Jon curtsied, earning a smile from Margaery.

It was Loras who spoke next. "You must be Duncan Breakshield."

This caused the bastard to raise an eyebrow at the squire's wording. "Breakshield?"

"You broke one of Oakheart's famed oak shields, not an easy feat by any means." Loras praised. "Just as we once had Baelor Breakspear, we may see Duncan Breakshield."

"I'd prefer if you just called me Duncan." He then pointedly glanced at Margaery. "And please tell me why everyone is figuring out my ruse."

The lady merely smiled again, as if she was told a joke only she was capable of comprehending. "I just pieced things together. Loras told me he overheard Edgerran Oakheart bragging about intimidating the Dornish, who I assume was Edric. When the mystery knight's name made a jab at his sigil and you were nowhere to be seen it was not that hard to jump to a conclusion."

'Duncan' opted to ignore her explanation and stared back at Loras. "So, you knew he attempted to attack Edric and did nothing to correct him?"

The male Tyrell did not flinch at his tone. "As much as I disapprove of his behavior, I'm not his parent to correct him."

"His house is sworn to yours."

"A liege should not be held responsible for his sworn house's deeds."

Jon would've agreed in other circumstances. Jorah Mormont's actions immediately came to mind. Just as his father wasn't responsible for the disgraced lord selling captives as slaves the same case could be made for house Tyrell.

If not for a small detail.

"Yet your father was quick to claim credit for Lord Randyll Tarly's victory over King Robert at the Battle of Ashford."

He almost winced at his own tone. Lord Beric warned him to not draw much attention to himself, and here he was now offending the Lord Paramount's children.

Much to his surprise, Loras didn't scowl or attacked him. In fact, the third son laughed aloud. "Oh, Marg, I like him."

"Keep up and you might be able to entertain our grandmother." The beauty said.

Jon gulped at that, if Beric's tales of the aging women held credit, he wasn't enthused at all by the prospect of having a conversation with the famed Queen of Thorns.

"May I ask why you requested my presence?" Snow asked with his natural, blunt tone.

"Loras wanted to meet his next opponent." Margaery explained, causing him to frown.

The Knight of Axes existed solely to teach Edgerran a lesson, now that the deed was done, there was little reason for him to stick around. In fact, Jon didn't even bother to watch the other contestants after finishing Oakheart.

"I admit I wasn't paying much attention to the other contestants." Jon eventually said. "I was planning to just concede defeat and move on."

"Why is that?" The squire asked him.

"I became the Knight of Axes to teach a lesson. The lesson was taught and Oakheart's pride was wounded. I simply don't see any merit in continuing now that my task was completed."

"The glory doesn't appeal to you? Surely winning this would prove to be a boon for you in the long run." The third son attempted to convince him.

Truth be told, he saw no glory in winning a tournament. King Robert, as flawed as people would describe him, earned glory by smashing Rhaegar Targaryen's chest with his warhammer, and avenging Lyanna Stark in the process. Ser Barristan the Bold earned glory slaying Maelys the Monstrous at the Stepstones, extinguishing the Blackfyre line of pretenders.

Compared to these feats, the glory found unhorsing an opponent paled in comparison.

Still, Jon couldn't expect Loras or the other Reachmen to understand that, as well as they shouldn't expect him to fully comprehend their code of chivalry.

Acceptance was hard to come by, hence why there were Seven Kingdoms, not a single one.

"I'd say the glory you seek is different than mine." 'Duncan' finally said.

"Still, testing myself against someone of the North will be an exciting experience. I've constantly faced squires and even knights from the Reach, Stormlands, and Crownlands; occasionally some hailing from the Vale and Westerlands, but never against a Northman."

"Northern knights are a somewhat rare sight." Jon conceded. "Of the Northern Houses, only the House Manderly, originally hailing from the Reach and following the Faith of the Seven, consistently hire knights. There's Ser Rodrik Cassel from Winterfell and…"

It was Loras who cut him off, his voice sounding a lot angrier. "Ser Jorah Mormont."

This caused Jon to actually raise an eyebrow.

"You've met the man?"

"He married my aunt." Loras frowned for a few seconds. "A mostly unfortunate match."

'Duncan' nodded. It was clear for everyone to see that Loras disliked the disgraced knight, his sister too, although she did her best to hide her contempt. "I apologize for bringing up an unpleasant topic."

Margaery dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. "It's no bother, we are assured that the North does not approve of Ser Mormont's actions." She then smirked at him. "Just as the Reach isn't represented by Edgerran Oakheart's reprehensible behavior."

He blinked at that.

She got him again.

Rather than fighting a losing battle testing his wits against Margaery, he decided to emulate the girl's father and avoid confrontation.

'Duncan' turned to the girl's brother.

"Say Loras, did you ever fight atop the deck of a ship?"

The next day saw Jon making his way towards the tiltyard earlier than the other contestants, accompanied by an excitable Edric Dayne.

"Who are you going to crown Queen of Love and Beauty?" the younger boy asked him.

"Bold of you to presume I will win."

"You've already beaten three opponents, it's not that far-fetched to believe you can down another three." Dayne argued

This caused him to shake his head. "Anyone, even your aunt Allyria, could've unhorsed Tarly, he belongs as much in a tiltyard as I belong to a sewing ring. You are three years younger than Ambrose, yet I'd give you one to consistently beat him. Oakheart was the sole challenge, and I did not do so without effort. My sore arm can attest to that."

"Still, you can figure something out, just like you did against Oakheart."

This caused him to shake his head. "There's too much of a gap skill-wise for that." The bastard admitted. "If I had more time, either to prepare, or in training my answer would've been different, but I'm afraid that this is my limit, at least so far."

"Then why do you fight?"

"I actually like Loras." He spoke. "I believe we would've been friends if I were trueborn. The lad has his flaws, but ultimately has a good heart, not to mention is the most skilled opponent I've ever faced so far."

"How can you know how good he is if you never saw him fight?"

"The way people, especially the other squires, conduct themselves around him."

"Couldn't it be simply respect? He is the son of the Lord Paramount and Warden of the South after all."

"There's a difference between respect and admiration. His brother Willas commands respect, he is the heir to Highgarden after all, but Loras has the other's admiration."

The younger squire was silent for a few seconds. "You are good at that."

"What?"

"Reading people."

This caused him to smile. "I guess I am."

"Still, you never answered me in the first place. Who would you crown Queen of Love and Beauty if you won the tournament?"

The bastard thought about it for a few seconds. "Lady Alerie."

Edric raised an eyebrow at that. "Margaery's mother? Jon, I did not know you liked your women older."

He had to do his best to prevent an upwards turn of his lips. "I don't remember being that interested in women when I was your age."

Edric smiled. "I am Dornish after all."

"I guess you are. Still, crowning the hosting lord's family when you don't have ties with anyone else seems to be the safest choice, one which doesn't stand out. Not to mention the fact she is married, so no one would mistake my one's intentions if crowning a lady unwed, such as Margaery or even Elinor."

"If you weren't trying to blend in then." Ned asked. "Who you would've crowned?"

"It truly depends. Tourneys and other events are also a chance to create or further connections, so if I were looking to simply improve my station, my choice would've been either Desmera Redwyne or one of Lord Randyll Tarly's daughters; earning their respect would create one of these connections I spoke about." The bastard reasoned. "Still, if it came to me, I would crown Elinor."

"Not Margaery?" Edric asked in surprise. "Well, Elinor is pretty, but Margaery…"

"Is prettier, I know."

"Then why?"

"This probably isn't the first time Margaery receives a crown, and I'm sure it won't be the last. But the same can be said of Elinor?" Jon mused. "I guess not, hence why my choice is her."

Edric nodded. "I think she likes you."

"She flirts with me. Liking is a different subject…one which doesn't matter, nor or never." He concluded just as he finished wearing his armor.

"Forgot this." Edric said, handing him his helm.

Jon nodded, glancing at the piece.

"Masks are worn for a reason after all."

When the herald announced him, he expected the whispering he heard the day before. The cheers he received were a pleasant, albeit unexpected surprise. Still, they couldn't compare to the reaction in the stands when his opponent's name was announced.

As he said earlier to Edric, Loras was not only respected but also admired by the nobles and smallfolk alike.

The squire to Renly had the most expensive armor set Jon ever saw. Loras was still growing, and this set most likely wouldn't fit him in the next one or two years, a fact that further attested to the wealth of the Reach and House Tyrell. If 'Duncan' were to sell his mismatched armor set he could probably buy one of Loras' gauntlets; if Lord Beric were to sell his set, he could possibly afford Loras' shield.

Jon let out a sigh, regretting his decision to not drop out of the competition.

When he fought Edgerran the day before, he was outclassed but at least held a significant advantage in horsemanship, which turned out to be the key to his victory.

Loras Tyrell however was a better jouster. A better rider. Older. Most experienced. Better armed. Taller. Stronger. Even the horse was better than his.

In hindsight, lasting longer than three rounds would already be something to take pride in.

Seeing no possible way to attack, Jon opted to ride as fast as possible in the first tilt, at least make him as difficult as a target as possible. With a graceful strike of lance, Jon soon found out this was easier said than done, as he held onto his stirrups for dear life.

Deciding to repeat the strategy he employed against Oakheart, Jon switched his shield and lance arms. Much to his surprise, Loras did the same, giving him a smirk in the process. When he met him again at the center of the yard, it was clear Loras had a certain degree of proficiency with his non-dominant arm as the Reachman's lance came closer to hitting its mark than his.

Still, for 'Duncan', it was a marked improvement as for the next two rounds he did not come close to being unhorsed. Eventually, his luck run out, and after nearly managing a hit in the fifth round, Jon had to hold with all his strength following a particularly hard hit at his shield in the sixth.

Soon, Jon realized his only chance in avoiding a humiliating defeat was to outlast his opponent when it came to endurance. Once again it was a matter of things being easier said than done, as Loras, despite a tendency to show off using over-the-top gestures and needlessly complicated strikes, could easily drain his energy each time one of his hits connected.

By using a shield in his right hand, Jon not only forced his opponent to either attack from an awkward angle or mirror his stance but also amplified his own defensive capabilities, as he would now be defending with his dominant hand.

It was then, using his strong-arm shield to meet the lance that Jon saw the slightest of windows to act. The third son, as he noted previously, would attempt overly dramatic hits, such as spinning lance strikes. The thing was that, in order to do so, Loras had to twist his entire torso, not only his arm, to gain momentum. In a small window of opportunity, the Reachman would be left both without balance and with a huge opening in his left side.

In normal circumstances, Jon wouldn't have been able to connect a hit, but looking at his stirrup he came up with an idea.

A stupid idea.

A very stupid idea.

But an idea nonetheless.

"I should've never left Winterfell." He muttered as he readied himself. By the end of the ninth tilt, one of the squires would've been unhorsed.

He kept his eyes trained on the opponent's lance, quickly taking note of how fast his horse approached and when the Reachman would commit to a strike.

Jon urged his own horse forward, his feet leaving the stirrups, left hand couching his lance. This time he did not raise his shield in time, and for a mere second, he saw Loras' eyes light up in triumph, only to widen immediately after.

His right hand felt heavy, with the shield weighing him down just as he leaned backward from his sitting position atop his saddle. His feet were off the stirrup and for a single moment, he was floating.

Then he quickly closed his own legs, attempting to hold onto something, namely the horse's neck as he drove his lance forward.

He saw his weapon connect, albeit lightly, into Loras' armor, a small tap, but enough to throw the opponent off his saddle.

He would've smirked, but his own leg shook, and the last thing he saw was the blue sky above.

When he regained consciousness, he was still at the tiltyard and was greeted by the sight of the still-armored Loras.

The first thing he did was to check if his helmet was still on his head, thankfully it was.

"How long I was out?" He asked at least.

"Just a few seconds." The Reachman said, before turning to the stands, announcing with a louder tone. "He's fine."

'Duncan' promptly accepted the helping hand from the older boy and got up, the act of chivalry earning cheers from the crowd.

"We are supposed to go at it again?"

The noble shook his head. "We both went down at the same time, but I got up, so the lord of the castle…"Loras explained apologetically.

"Well, I was outclassed."

"What you did was probably the most insane thing I saw in a joust." Mace's son commented in awe. "Who the fuck dangles backward from the neck of a horse to deliver a blow like that?" He then laughed. "I will be doing that at Storm's End."

"Please don't do that."

"Still, you have a knack for jousting, and, if Edric Dayne is to be believed, you are even better as a swordsman. I've been riding ever since I could remember, and until today I was never unhorsed… You should join me at Storm's End. Renly is reasonable and would take you if I vouched for your abilities."

"I am flattered but this isn't the life I want for me."

"Why not? You could be like your namesake, earn unprecedented glory, and write your name in history." Loras attempted to convince him.

"Things are different for me, my lord. For a very long time, I resented being born a commoner, whilst others were set for greater things from birth…now I realize that the time I wasted being resentful." Jon reasoned. "I may never inherit a castle, or marry a highborn lady, but I realized I have one thing most would only dream of."

The noble frowned. "And what is that?"

The Bastard of Winterfell smiled. "Freedom."

Next up: The time skip.

Reviews:

TysonG – He does, but most of the tourney consisted solely of a joust, favored by most of the Reachmen, as it was a small one.

Kythryl – As you see in this chapter, Jon does take a jab at Dickon's name. Jon's opinion on tourneys is highly influenced by Eddard's dislike of those (if I were to guess this is tied to what happened in Harrenhal).

Andromedanaea – Jon has no idea, but it is already past the Wall.

Lanti96 – When he discovered Cersei's betrayal, Eddard was adamant about observing the law and supporting Stannis over Renly. Since honor, justice and abiding laws are a great part of his character I can't see him supporting anyone else but Robert's lawful heir, in that case, Stannis.

Guest (1) – My brother, ever heard of the Horny Jail?

InfinityMask – Jon being a hypocrite in his convo with Margaery was planned. He's still young, and sometimes young people say some dumb shit so they won't lose an argument.

UndyingSmiley – I can confirm Jon will face the Mountain in the future.

WirelessDown – I completely agree with you on the Ironborn issue. The Manderlys only pushed for a merchant fleet because White Harbor wouldn't face any raiding parties and more trade would equal more income for them. The mobile parties are a good idea, but even so, I still think they would be slow to prevent these attacks due to the terrain and weather in the North. Truth be told the best course of action for the Northmen would simply be to avoid coasts and build watchtowers at places such as Sea Dragon Point, Cape Kraken, and Stony Shore to warn of some raids.

I see you are a fellow CK3 fan as well. Actually, the AGOT mod re-sparked my interest in writing this. The Starks are very fond of marrying their cousins, in fact, they may be the third most inbreed house in the Seven Kingdoms after the Targaryens and the Velaryons. Whether he will continue this family tradition or not is yet to be seen.

Also, Jon is actually related to Allyria too, as Aegon V's mother was a Dayne. Still, I'm glad both pairings appealed to you.