Lucius Domitius Aurelianus

The setting sun warmed Lucius’ face and the smell of the biggest lake he had ever seen soaked into his nose. The humid weather of the Riverlands reminded him of Rome. As he was looking towards the Gods’ Eye, his eyes only saw water as far as his eyes could see, for a moment it was like he wasn’t in the Seven Kingdoms at all, but rather in the Domus Flavia, he could almost hear his wife Ulpia reprimanding their daughter for some mischievousness or another. Sadly, this precious vision of the past didn’t last, and Lucius was brought back to the shore of the enormous lake by the noises of the crowd of the nearing arena.

Next to him, his teammates were walking silently, all of them were tense and visibly nervous, which didn’t bode well for their chances Lucius thought, nonetheless, it was understandable. Ben was barely a man grown, and Imry, Garth and Sefton were all around their early twenties, Tommard was the only one of an age from whom Lucius expected some semblance of tenacity and stoicism, but sadly he didn’t have much experience on the vast world either, he had only been expelled from the Citadel a few years ago and he had spent all of his life inside it from a young age until his late thirties.

Lucius was calm, he understood as did his companions that this was an opportunity which could change their lives, but he also understood from his experience that not every opportunity would manifest into a success and there would always be more chances to earn wealth and renown if one knew how to properly spot them.

Every member of the winning team would gain a handsome reward. Enough for a horse and set of good armour each, Sefton had told him. The final winner of the melee would earn enough gold to raise a small keep, provide armour and weapons to a small group of knights, and still have enough to spare.

Sefton had been uncharacteristically sober the last two days, he also didn’t seem very confident in their chances. “They are all warriors of great renown and skill, Lucius. Lord Yohn Royce is a proven warrior who fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, Lord Robert Baratheon is young but known for his strength and comes from an illustrious lineage of Warrior-Kings, Ser Nestor Royce is also young but he is said to be a skilled swordsman like few others, Ser Symond Templeton is a knight of great skill and has proven himself in various melees, Lord Dustan Melcom slain two Kingsguards of Maelys the Monstrous in battle, Ser Marq Grafton and his brother Ser Lyonel Grafton are both knights of great renown who have excelled in many tourneys, both in jousting and in melee. Each one of them a great knight in their own right. We don’t stand a chance.” His knightly friend had defeatedly told him.

None of the names meant much to Lucius, but he understood well enough, half of them veterans and the other half young warriors who had already begun to make a name for themselves. They made a stark contrast to their own group, which was made of a farmer, two sons of a mason, a failed Hippocrates, a thief, an unknown knight, and a roman. The roman wasn’t so bad if he said so himself, Lucius thought.

They entered the arena and were received by a cheering crowd, on the other side their opponents entered at the same time as they. A wooden throne caught Lucius’ attention, and on it sat a gaunt old man with mangled hair that extended to his waist and an unkept beard extending to his stomach, he had nails so long that for a moment Lucius thought it was a trick of the light. On his head rested a crown made of red gold, huge and heavy, each of its points a dragon head with gemstone eyes, identifying the man as King Aerys Targaryen. Lucius had met many Kings in his lifetime none impressed him much, and neither did this one.

He turned his attention to their opponents, all of them had beautifully crafted armours but one of them was made of bronze and carved with runes, not unlike the Germanic runes Lucius was somewhat familiar with.

A man with a strong and commanding voice presented both teams and recited their names. The King gave the command for the fighting to start with a wave of his hand and both teams began to approach one another slowly, there would be no charging this match, it appeared. Lucius walked towards the knight in bronze armour. He couldn’t help a smile coming to his face, the tense feeling of a fight about to happen always got him in a good mood.

When Lucius finally encountered his bronze-clad opponent and struck a few blows the world slowed down and there wasn’t anything else in it but his opponent and him, even the ground they stood in seemed to disappear. He stabbed and swung, sidestepped and dodged, and with no thoughts on his mind, he struck the knight on his wrist and his knee, he parried a strike with his shield and struck back on the knight’s chest, but his armour was sturdy and Lucius’ blade a dull tourney sword, it didn’t matter how much he outmatched the man, nothing short of disarming the knight would work.

Their fight continued, for Lucius, it lasted both a second and an eternity. He eluded every strike, the knight swung hard, and it wouldn’t take more than one good swing to bring Lucius down considering the shoddy leather armour he was wearing. The man was considerably older than Lucius, probably in his forties, but he kept up with the rhythm of their battle just fine. Lucius decided he couldn’t tire the man and charged forward with a rain of strikes. When the knight tried to regain the initiative by striking back Lucius parried the strike and stepped forward, forcing the knight’s blade down and pushing him with his shield, dropping him on his back. With a victorious smile on his face, Lucius rested the tip of his sword on the bronze knight’s exposed neck, suddenly the world appeared again around Lucius, and the crowd cheered uncontrollably.

Lucius raised his eyes to see how his friends were faring only to be immediately disappointed, he was surrounded by his other six opponents. Disappointed but not exactly surprised, he raised his sword and threw it to the side of the knight he had just defeated who hadn’t had the chance to yield.

“I yield,” Lucius told them raising his hands in mock surrender. The bronze knight was helped up and given back his sword as Lucius walked to the side of the arena while applauding with the cheering crowd, if he had a toga he would have flapped, he wasn’t discontent with his performance. The crowd cheered for a while after Lucius had left the arena. The seven knights stood in a circle and waited for the cheering to subside before restarting the fight.

Lucius sat next to Ben who was looking down. “Well, how was it?” He asked as he hit his shoulder. Ben sighed. “Lord Baratheon did short work of me, with two swings of his wooden hammer he threw my sword to the ground and meself shortly after,” Ben answered.

Lucius waited for Sefton who was leaning on the wall of the arena and looking at the sky to correct Ben, but the knight remained silent, he had a solemn expression on his face, as if something terrible had just happened. So, Lucius took to the task himself. “Myself.” Lucius corrected him with a smile. Ben only sighed.

“What now Lucius? We’ll have to go back to father’s farm, there won’t be another tourney anytime soon I don’t think. Mother will be unbearable, ‘I told you so Ben’ she will say ‘You are no warrior’ she will say.” Ben said mimicking his mother’s voice.

Lucius waved the boy’s worries away. “We will be fine. There is always a need for men with swords and willing to use them somewhere.” He told Ben.

“But we have no armour, we won’t be able to buy horses either.” Ben retorted. “Well, we will have to fight afoot then, won’t we?” Lucius asked sarcastically.

While they discussed five knights had already been defeated, and only two were standing, the one with the bronze armour and another with yellow armour wielding a wooden war-hammer. They fought for some time until the bronze knight found a gap in the Baratheon’s guard and struck his hand making the latter drop his hammer and then yield. The crowd cheered and the announcer declared Lord Yohn Royce the winner of the melee. There was much fanfare and after the cheers of the crowd the King personally congratulated Lord Royce.

Lucius’ deflated team returned to their rooms in Harrenhal to gather their belongings, they probably wouldn’t be welcomed for much longer, as they returned, and the sun set, light rain began to fall on the Riverlands. As Lucius prepared his sword, armour and other items to leave when requested he heard a knock on the door. The time had come sooner than he had expected. He opened the door.

“Lucius?” The man at his door asked. “The very same.” Lucius smiled at him, he had enjoyed his stay and the lavish food and so he had no intention of being unpleasant when he was no longer welcomed. “Prince Rhaegar Targaryen extends an invitation to join him at tonight’s banquet as his guest of honour. You will be given appropriate garments if you so wish to accept the Prince of Dragonstone invitation” The man declared. Lucius almost raised an eyebrow at the expected man bringing an unexpected declaration, but he quickly composed himself.

“Of course. Please inform the Prince of Dragonstone that I shall attend. I’ll change as soon as you bring me the garments.” Lucius told the man. The man nodded and took a step to his side, from behind him emerged a host of maids carrying water soap and many different attires. “That would be it, the maids will wash the stench of battle away for you.” He stated. “I have selected the following outfits for you to choose from, they are all the latest fashion in the court.” The man said before closing the door and leaving the surprised Lucius in his room now full of maids bustling like bees carrying their assigned work.