We Bleed Silver(GOT/ASOIAF Fanfic)

"Rey?"

Valar noticed his wife suddenly rushing to his side, whispering anxiously about Rey's disappearance. It was only then that he realized someone was missing.

"Oh, him," Draezell raised an eyebrow. "Impatient as always. He's disguised himself as a mystery knight to join the tournament."

"What?" Valar was alarmed and leaned in closer, whispering urgently into his brother's ear. "He's only fourteen! His skills may not be bad, but—"

"There are few here who pose any real threat to him," Draezell replied with a smile. "If there were any danger, I'd have locked him up already. Relax, let the boy have a chance to release some of that energy."

"You might as well have let me compete," Valar muttered, disappointed. But his gaze quickly shifted to the next match on the field. "Hoffa! Go, Hoffa!"

The golden-eyed boy Hoffa was facing off against Ser Borros of House Baratheon.

"Are you from the Stormlands?" Borros immediately noticed the boy's striking features: raven-black hair and golden eyes.

Hoffa accepted the lance silently, offering only a courteous bow in acknowledgment before lowering his visor. He raised his lance and aimed it at the stag emblazoned on Borros' chestplate.

Borros laughed heartily, lowering the visor of his antlered helm and urging his horse forward at a steady pace.

Crash!

The lances shattered. A powerful figure fell to the ground.

The crowd erupted in astonishment, for the one who had fallen was Ser Borros Baratheon. That a boy from House Vaelarys had unhorsed the proud stag in a single tilt left everyone stunned—except for the Vaelarys.

The stag climbed to his feet with some difficulty, shouting to his squire, "Well done, boy! I'm calling for single combat!" Borros grabbed a battleaxe from his squire and charged toward Hoffa, who had taken up a spear.

The long-handled axe came down in a heavy arc, only for the boy to dodge nimbly. In Hoffa's hands, the spear moved like a serpent, twisting and circling before striking out with deadly precision at just the right moment.

"Good! Again!" The spear clanged against Borros' breastplate, leaving a faint white mark. Borros roared, swinging his axe once more. This time, it connected—but Hoffa blocked it firmly with his spear, using the opportunity to knock the axe aside and strike Borros' helmet with a quick thrust.

Borros felt his head ringing, as if he'd been struck with a hammer. Before he could recover, Hoffa had already struck several precise points along the joints of his armor.

"Seven hells," Borros muttered as his senses cleared. By then, Hoffa had already placed the blunt tip of his spear against the knight's gorget.

"You've won, boy," Borros admitted with a growl.

"My thanks," Hoffa replied, his expression as impassive as ever. He offered a polite bow before leaving Borros behind and returning to his position.

"Tsk."

Borros removed his helmet, taking a few extra glances at Hoffa. Despite his scrutiny, he couldn't discern much, other than an acknowledgment that House Vaelarys indeed had its share of talents.

The next match pitted Prince Aegon, the old,against Ser Marston Waters of the Kingsguard. Prior to this, Aegon had already unhorsed a mercenary knight and two knights from House Hightower, including Ser Ormund Hightower himself.

That bout had been fierce—both combatants had broken three lances. It wasn't until the fifth tilt that Aegon finally struck Ormund's breastplate and unseated him.

Thud.

The sound of the opening clash in this match startled the audience. Before they could process what had happened, Aegon was already sprawled on the ground, leaving behind a Kingsguard knight with a stunned expression.

He was sure he had held back.

Queen Alicent slammed her fist on the armrest, struggling to suppress her reaction while glancing sideways at Princess Rhaenyra. King Viserys, on the other hand, chuckled heartily. "Aegon's not too bad—he lasted this long, at least. By the way, where's Aemond?"

At that moment, a knight clad in plain steel armor and bearing a shield painted with dark green flames entered the arena. His visor-covered helm concealed his identity.

"A mystery knight!" the herald exclaimed, raising a small banner. "Who will he challenge?" Before the crowd could speculate, the herald's eyes widened in surprise. "He's challenging Ser Marston Waters, our Kingsguard knight!"

The knight urged his horse forward and stopped in front of the Kingsguard, who glanced at him with a puzzled expression. Marston's eyes then widened in recognition.

But there was no time for hesitation. The herald's voice urging them to begin echoed through the field, and Marston had no choice but to take a lance and guide his horse to the opposite end of the lists.

Crash!

The first tilt was evenly matched; both lances shattered, but neither knight was unseated. The mystery knight, however, wasted no time. He spurred his horse forward, retrieved a fresh lance from the ground, and circled back for another charge.

This time, his lance struck Marston's shield with precision. The tip exploded upon impact, the tremendous force flinging the Kingsguard knight from his saddle. Dragged a short distance by his horse, Marston was left unconscious on the field. His squires rushed to carry him off.

Ser Criston Cole observed the mystery knight with a pensive expression, as if he had discerned the figure's identity.

"Prince Aemond?" Valar leaned against the railing, uncertain, and turned to his brother and sister-in-law.

Diana set aside the ledger she had been reviewing and shook her head. "I don't know. He isn't listed among today's competitors as this 'Greenfire Knight.'"

"That's him, isn't it? Sigh, another one," Draezell remarked with a hint of exasperation.

Aemond had just unseated yet another knight from House Piper. His next opponent was Forest Frey, Lord of the Twins.

The match proved thrilling as both the Greenfire Knight and the Lord shattered four lances before the seventh tilt ended with the Frey lord's unhorsing.

While the Greenfire Knight continued his rampage, the herald's voice rang out again: "Another mystery knight! His opponent is Ser Tywin of House Lannister! Ser Tywin charges—oh! Ser Tywin is down!"

Even before the herald finished speaking, the sound of a knight hitting the ground echoed across the lists. Ser Tywin Lannister lay sprawled on his back, gasping for air.

The knight in black plate armor reined his horse around. His full-faced helm obscured his identity entirely, with no visible clues save for the silver coronet painted on his equally black shield.

This "Silver Crown Knight" had now unhorsed four opponents in quick succession, Ser Tywin being his latest victim. Meanwhile, the Greenfire Knight claimed yet another victory.

This time, Ser Rickard Thorne of the Kingsguard fell before him. Though Rickard broke five lances in the duel, the Greenfire Knight ultimately landed a decisive blow that sent him tumbling from his horse.

The Greenfire Knight began advancing toward the remaining competitors.

Among Lady Diana's five sworn protectors, Lord Donald Tarly had already been unhorsed by Lord unwin Peake, though Unwin was quickly defeated by Sebastian Pyrebane. Alan Tarly had lost to another Alan, Ser Alan Beesbury, in a tilt, though Beesbury himself was soon toppled by Amos Bracken, who knocked out Samwell Blackwood.

Now only eleven knights remained in the field: Amos Bracken, Sebastian Pyrebane, Aslan Rondell, Hoffa Lawkeeper, Daemon Targaryen, the Greenfire Knight, the Silver Crown Knight, Criston Cole, Ser Arryk Cargyll, his sworn brother Ser Steffon Darklyn, and Lord Artis Royce of the Vale.

The young Vale lord, clad in bronze armor, had unseated nineteen knights to earn his place in the final rounds.

The Greenfire Knight moved deliberately.

He stopped in front of Daemon.