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Chapter 5 - 5. A Knights Heroics

"Without honour, a knight is no more than a common killer."

— Barristan Selmy

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[Ethan Of Dunstonbury]

As we entered the village proper, we were met at once by Garrett's wife and daughter, who clung to him as though afraid he might vanish if they let go. Relief poured from them in quiet sobs and tight embraces, the kind that came only after fear had been sitting too long in the chest.

My attention drifted to Ser Alekyne. He stood a short distance away, unmoving, hands resting calmly at his sides, helm tucked beneath one arm. He looked almost out of place amid such warmth, like a shadow that had wandered too close to a hearth.

I shifted on my feet and looked back to the family, suddenly unsure where I belonged. My fingers found the leather straps at my tunic, tugging at them, loosening and tightening them again as I waited. Surely Garrett would introduce us. Eventually.

The reunion showed no signs of ending. If anything, it only grew tighter, the three of them murmuring to one another as though the world beyond their circle had ceased to exist. I lifted my fist, ready to clear my throat and announce our presence, but Ser Alekyne beat me to it.

"Ahem. While it is good to see such a reunion," my Ser said, a faint smile touching his lips, "we are rather starved after the road and the duel."

Garrett blinked, as if only just remembering where he was. He turned toward us, then back to his wife to murmur something softly before guiding both her and their daughter closer.

"This is Ser Alekyne," he said, gesturing toward my Ser. "The knight who fought in my stead."

Then he pointed at me. "And this is his squire, Ethan. A rather enthusiastic boy, especially where fighting is concerned."

I seized the moment and bowed deeply, far more than necessary. "Ethan of Dunstonbury, at your service."

The daughter let out a small laugh, quickly covering her mouth. I took that as a victory and glanced sideways at Ser Alekyne, who looked very much like he was debating whether or not to rub his temples.

The woman inclined her head politely. "It is an honour to meet you both. Thank you, Ser, for defending my husband. I do not know what I would have done without this stubborn man."

"It was no burden," Ser Alekyne replied. "It is a knight's duty to stand for those who cannot."

He paused, then added, "But if you would permit it, I would prefer to continue this conversation indoors. The road has not been kind, and my stomach is less patient than I am."

Garrett smiled at that and gestured toward the nearest house. "Of course, Ser. Please. Come in."

As we began walking, I found myself falling into step beside the daughter, who lagged just a pace behind the others. She glanced at me from the corner of her eye before leaning a little closer.

"Soooo," she said, drawing the word out as though testing it, "what is it like being a squire?"

I tipped my head back and looked up at the sky, clouds drifting lazily above us, buying myself a moment to think. "Tough," I said at last. "Extremely tough. Especially under my Ser. I am fairly certain he makes it harder on me than necessary."

I let out a long sigh, more dramatic than it needed to be. "But it is good. Fun. Exciting. Never boring."

She laughed softly. "I am sure it is. Swinging a sword all day must be oh so fun."

I stopped walking for half a heartbeat and turned my head toward her. "Was that sarcasm? That was definitely sarcasm."

She blinked at me, feigning surprise. "Oh? Was it? I do not think soooo." She leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it conspiratorial. "I could never be sarcastic in front of such a charming squire."

Heat rushed to my face all at once. I stumbled mid-step, barely catching myself. "Charming? Me? No, no, you have it all wrong. I am a terrifying squire. Ethan the Frightening, that is what they call me."

I puffed out my chest in a poor attempt at menace, though the grin tugging at my mouth betrayed me entirely.

"Do they now?" she said, studying me with open amusement. "You look far more likely to be frightened than frightening. Your features are rather soft."

She tilted her head, eyes lingering on my face. "More like a maiden than a warrior."

Before I could form a proper reply, we stepped inside the house. The warmth struck me at once. A fire crackled in the hearth, its glow casting long shadows across the room. The scent of woodsmoke and simmering food hung in the air. A small kitchen sat toward the back, well-kept and lived in, with a narrow set of stairs leading up to the second floor where the beds awaited.

I whistled low, turning slowly as I took it all in. "This is a nice place."

She smiled, pride flickering across her face. "Thank you. It was my father's father's home. It took him years to build it."

I nodded, letting my gaze wander. For a place not even marked on a map, it was rather nice. Something I had not expected, yet not something I found myself annoyed at either. A small, unexpected adventure to be tucked away in the growing collection of stories belonging to Ethan the Frightening.

I chuckled to myself at the thought, drawing an odd look from her.

"Ethan," she said slowly, "do you perhaps have a hint of madness? Who chuckles to themselves like that?"

I paused, then pointed at myself. "Me."

That earned a laugh from her. "You are really funny. Are all squires like that?"

She took a seat across from me at the table. I followed suit, lowering myself into a chair and resting my head against the wood. "No. Just me, I reckon."

I smiled at her. "Say, what is your name? I was never told it."

"My father named me Rhea, after his grandmother," she said, smiling as she met my gaze with bright green eyes. "He said I looked just like her."

Now that I was seated, I took the chance to truly look at her. Eyes green as the grasslands stretching across the Reach, brown hair the shade of tree bark warmed by the sun. Her face held a touch of softness, a little roundness that only added to her charm.

I shook my head, forcing my thoughts back where they belonged. "So what do you do around here?" I asked. "Must be boring, living in a village all the time."

She paused, a thoughtful hum slipping from her lips. "Hmm. I help my mother with whatever needs doing." Her eyes drifted toward the kitchen, where her mother stood speaking with my Ser and Garrett, their voices low and easy. "I should really be helping her now," she added, glancing back at me, "but then I imagine you would be terribly lonely without me."

I laughed softly. "Go on, help her if you want. I might just rest my head for a moment."

"No," she said at once, smiling. "I do not think I will." She leaned closer, elbows on the table. "I rather enjoy pestering you. So tell me, what does a squire like you actually do?"

"Not much, really," I said, lifting my hands and gesturing vaguely through the air. "Make the fire, scout the camp, put on his armour, take it off again. You know that sort of thing. Normal squire stuff."

Rhea giggled. "No, I do not know." She tilted her head, drawing the moment out. "Why would I? Normal squire stuff? I have been a village girl all my life."

Realisation dawned and I made a face. "Oh. Right. Sorry. I suppose this is one of your first times meeting a squire."

She folded her arms with mock triumph, and I could not help but smile. "Exactly." Then she turned her head slightly, eyes settling on my Ser. "Tell me, is he famous?"

She lowered her voice and covered her mouth with her hand, as though sharing a secret. "Like Aemon the Dragonknight?"

The question caught me off guard. I waved my hands quickly. "No. Definitely not. No man could live up to that reputation." I hesitated, then added, "But perhaps one day."

She laughed at that, even though I had not meant it as a jest. "You really believe in him, do you?"

"Of course I do." I straightened in my chair, meeting her gaze without wavering. "He is my Ser. I have watched him every day since I took his colours. I know he will make something of himself."

Before she could reply, a plate was set down in front of me. I looked up to find Ser Alekyne standing there, a smile on his face. Not one of his practised ones, but the real kind, the sort that crept in unannounced.

He ruffled my hair. "What has you so fired up, lad?"

"She asked if you were on the same level as Aemon," I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, I saw his eyes widen slightly before he grew thoughtful.

He withdrew his hand and nodded once. "I reckon I could beat him in a melee." He smiled to himself and turned back toward the kitchen to fetch the remaining dishes.

Beat him? You would be the one getting beaten, you dumb fool.

I chuckled at him. It was exactly the sort of thing he would say. I knew he meant it as a joke, but somewhere deep in my mind I would not have been surprised if a part of him truly believed it.

After all, he had nearly beaten a dragon once already.

Oh right.

"Ser!"

Ser Alekyne turned back toward me. "What do you need, lad?" He gathered the last remaining plates and carried them over, setting each one down before taking his seat beside me.

"I was just wondering," I said, hesitating for a moment. "If you would tell me about that tourney. The one where you jousted Prince Baelor himself."

An audible sigh left him at once, while a small, barely contained sound of excitement escaped Rhea as she leaned forward.

"Fine," Alekyne said at last. "I did promise you. And a knight keeps his word."

I pumped my fist in triumph, but his raised hand stopped me short.

"Only if you scrub the horses every day for the next moon."

I nodded without hesitation. "That is fine. I would do anything to hear this tale."

He clasped my hand, a rare grin spreading across his face. Letting go, he glanced around the table, at the gathered faces, and released another slow breath.

"It was a few years ago," he began. "I do not recall the exact year, only that the tourney was held at Casterly Rock. A grand place. Tall as the Hightower of Oldtown, or so it felt to me at the time."

"I entered to make a name for myself," he continued. "I had only recently been knighted by Ser Godwyn of Lannisport." His voice softened slightly. "He was a man I admired greatly. He took me in, clothed me, fed me, and taught me everything I knew. That tourney was my way of proving that squiring under him had meant something."

He tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the stew. "My first joust was against an unknown hedge knight. Ser Eggon of Queenscrown. He lasted three lances before I unhorsed him. Broke a rib, if the whispers were true."

He ate, chewing slowly before continuing. "The second and third were men of note. Lords with land, if memory serves, though their names escape me now. They fell quickly. Five lances for the third, no more."

"The fourth was…" He paused, spoon hovering over the bowl. "This stew is excellent. You are a fine cook." He glanced toward the kitchen before nodding to himself. "Right. The fourth was Prince Baelor."

Rhea's eyes widened, and I leaned closer without thinking.

"He rode in full Targaryen armour," Alekyne went on. "It outshone my own in every way. His back was straight, his seat firm, and the way he held his lance…" He shook his head. "It was something else entirely."

His gaze unfocused, drifting somewhere far beyond the table. "When I first watched him joust, I forgot he was a prince. All I saw was his skill. His courage. He lowered his head and rode straight into the clash, striking his opponents like a hammer meeting an anvil."

"Are you not meant to lower your head?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He glanced at me. "You are not meant to. Lifting your head keeps the splinters from flying into your eyes and killing you." A small smile touched his lips. "But he did not care. He rode anyway."

"He was brave," Alekyne said quietly. "Braver than any man there."

He tore another piece of bread, soaking it thoroughly this time. "And for that reason alone, I wanted to face him more than anyone else. Every opponent after that became nothing more than an obstacle standing between me and Baelor."

He took another bite, then continued. "Eventually, I reached the final rounds. And there he was. Prince Baelor Targaryen, lance raised high against the sky."

Alekyne's hand tightened unconsciously around his spoon. "I held my own lance just as tightly."

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And with that, ladies and gentlemen, the chapter comes to a close.

While this chapter was definitely a lot slower-paced than the rest, I wanted to give you more of an idea of who Alekyne and Ethan were. This chapter in itself took me a while to write, as I did not understand how I wanted to progress it, as I understood that I had a point A and a point B, but no idea how to navigate it. As such, I hope this chapter came out well and is enjoyable for you guys to read.

Please, as usual, give me any tips and tricks on how to improve this fanfiction. Make sure not to forget to add this story to your libraries if you have enjoyed it so far, more is to come.

As such, have a good rest of your day/night. 

Tac Out

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