Four years ago, Rhaenerys had joined a fighting pit in Flea Bottom and for a year she leveraged her multiple martial arts black belts from the modern world to survive the brutal arena. Her dual goals were to hone her melee combat skills and earn gold to support her family. Six months into her pit fighting career, she met a retired knight who recognized her potential and trained her in sword fighting. For the next two years, Rhaenerys split her time between the fighting pit and sword training. After that, she dedicated a year to honing her skills in hunting boars and bull wrestling.
The day before leaving for King's Landing to claim Vermithor...
Rhaenerys prepared for her last bull-wrestling match, her mind focused on the challenge ahead. As she wrapped her hands with leather straps, Ryker, her master's steward, approached her. Ryker stood at about 5'11" with a lean, athletic build, honed from years of training in the martial arts. His dark, rich brown hair was often worn messy and unkempt, framing his heart-shaped face. His piercing blue eyes sparkled like the waters of the Trident, complemented by a sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones that gave him a strong, chiseled look. A small scar above his left eyebrow, shaped like a crescent moon, hinted at a childhood accident involving a horse and a poorly placed branch.
"Rhaenerys, beware," Ryker said, his voice grave with concern. "The bull you're about to face has been starved for a day, making it more aggressive than usual." Rhaenerys smiled, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Good, I love a challenge that tests my mettle."
Ryker's gaze lingered on hers, his expression softening. "Your courage is one of the things I... admire most about you, Rhaenerys." As he spoke, Ryker's mind betrayed him, wandering back to the moment they met. He'd tried to ignore the spark he felt then, focusing on his duty as her master's steward. But as he gazed into her eyes now, he couldn't deny the emotions he'd harbored for so long.
Ryker cleared his throat, attempting to compose himself. "Rhaenerys, may I ask, what drives you to this? You've spent years fighting, training, pushing yourself to the limit. What purpose fuels this fire that burns within you?"
Rhaenerys hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered Ryker's question. "I... cannot reveal much, Ryker. Let's just say the fate of the realm depends on it." Ryker's gaze searched hers, seeking any crack in her armor, any hint of vulnerability.
Rhaenerys nodded curtly. "I should get ready for the match." Ryker stepped back, his movements mechanical. "Aye, of course. I'll... leave you to it." As he turned to leave, Ryker caught himself glancing back at Rhaenerys, his heart heavy with unspoken emotions.
Rhaenerys watched Ryker depart, her expression softening ever so slightly. She'd noticed the way he looked at her, the way his eyes lingered on hers. She'd tried to ignore it, focusing on her goals, but a part of her wondered... what if?
Rhaenerys shook her head, focusing on the task at hand. She had a bull to vanquish, and no room for distractions. As she entered the arena, the crowd's roar grew louder, the air thickening with anticipation. Rhaenerys' heart pounded in her chest, her senses heightened like a warrior's.
The bull, a massive beast with horns sharp as Valyrian steel, glared at her from across the arena. Rhaenerys smiled, a fierce glint in her eye.
Let's end this.
The match began, Rhaenerys dodging the bull's initial charge with ease. She grasped its horns, her muscles straining like a warrior's as she twisted its head. The crowd erupted in cheers, Rhaenerys' name on their lips like a battle cry.
The bull bucked and twisted, its eyes wild with fury. Rhaenerys' grip on its horns faltered, and she stumbled backward. The crowd gasped as the bull charged, its horns aimed straight for Rhaenerys' chest like a lance. She leapt to the side, avoiding the deadly blow by mere inches.
The bull's horns crashed into the ground, sending splinters flying like shattered shields. Rhaenerys seized the momentary distraction to grab the bull's horns once more. The bull's strength was immense, its crazed frenzy making it almost unmanageable like a raging giant.
Rhaenerys' arms trembled, her muscles screaming in protest like a wounded warrior. She gritted her teeth, her eyes locked on the bull's like a warrior's gaze. Slowly, inch by inch, she began to twist the bull's head like a skilled torturer.
The crowd's roar grew louder, a deafening cacophony like the clash of armies. The bull's legs buckled, its body crashing to the ground like a felled giant. Rhaenerys stood panting, her arms still wrapped around the bull's horns like a victorious warrior.
The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices hoarse from screaming like a chorus of the damned. As Rhaenerys released the bull's horns, the beast let out a defeated bellow, its body trembling with exhaustion like a vanquished foe.
She stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion, her eyes blazing with triumph like a conqueror's. The crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch, with some spectators chanting her name like a battle cry.
Rhaenerys' gaze swept the arena, her eyes locking onto Ryker's figure in the stands like a warrior's gaze seeking out her lord. For a moment, their eyes held, a spark of connection flashing between them like a secret signal.
Then, Rhaenerys turned to exit the arena, her movements fluid and powerful. As she disappeared into the tunnel, the crowd's roar began to fade, replaced by murmurs of awe and admiration.
As Rhaenerys exited the arena, she was met with warm embraces from her friends and fellow fighters. They congratulated her on her victory, their faces beaming with pride.
Ryker waited patiently, his eyes never leaving hers. When the others stepped back, he approached her, his expression soft.
"Rhaenerys..." he began, his voice low and husky. "I don't know what the future holds, but I want you to know... I'll be thinking of you, always."
Rhaenerys' heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze. "Ryker, I..."
He took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "No, let me finish." Ryker's eyes searched hers, his gaze burning with intensity. "Rhaenerys, I... I want you to know that you'll always have a place in my heart."
Rhaenerys' emotions swirled, her feelings for Ryker threatening to surface. But she couldn't afford to indulge them, not now, with the fate of Westeros hanging in the balance. She needed to focus on her destiny, not her desires.
She squeezed his hand, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ryker, you've been a true friend to me. I'll never forget that."
Ryker's face fell, his eyes clouding with disappointment. But he nodded, understanding in his gaze. "I know, Rhaenerys. I just... I had to tell you."
Rhaenerys smiled softly, her heart aching with the secrets she kept. "I'm glad you did, Ryker. Take care of yourself, okay?"
As Rhaenerys turned to leave, Ryker's grip on her hand tightened. "Wait, Rhaenerys," he said, his voice low and urgent.
She turned back to him, her eyes questioning.
Ryker's gaze burned with determination. "We will meet again, Rhaenerys. I swear it. No matter what fate has in store for you, I'll make sure of it. We'll find each other, no matter the distance or the danger."
Rhaenerys' expression softened, her eyes locked on his. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable.
Then, she smiled - a small, enigmatic smile. And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Ryker standing there, his vow hanging in the air.
Ryker watched her go, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he'd just made a promise he might not be able to keep, but he couldn't shake the feeling that their fates were intertwined. And he was determined to make sure of it.
Here's the revised continuation:
As Rhaenerys walked away from Ryker, the group of rough-looking boys who had been waiting for her outside the arena stepped forward, their eyes gleaming with malice.
"Ah, Rhaenerys, you've finally come out. We thought you'd forgotten about us, waiting to collect a share of your winnings."
The leader, a rough-looking youth, stepped forward. "You've earned a pretty penny, lass. We think it's only fair we take a small portion, for... safekeeping."
Rhaenerys' eyes narrowed, her hand on the pouch at her belt. "I don't think so, lads. My earnings are mine own, and I won't be intimidated."
The boys chuckled, their eyes glinting with mischief, as they closed in around her.
The leader, a burly boy with a scar above his eyebrow, sneered at Rhaenerys. "Oh, we're shakin' in our boots, lass. You think you're tough with your fancy fightin' skills and your noble friends?"
Rhaenerys smirked, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "I don't need to prove myself to you. But I will say this: I've taken down men twice your size and skill. You're no exception. In fact, you're just a bunch of scrawny, cowardly little rats."
The boys snarled, baring their teeth, but Rhaenerys just laughed. "Oh, I'm shakin' with fear. Come on, then. Let's see what you're made of."
With a swift draw, Rhaenerys unsheathed her sword and charged at the boys. They scattered, but she quickly rounded them up, her blade flashing in the dim light. The fight was a whirlwind of clashing steel, grunts, and snarls. Rhaenerys' sword sliced through the air with deadly precision, landing blows that sent the boys crashing to the ground. She disarmed one with a swift kick, the sword clattering on the cobblestones, and drove her foot into another's stomach, the impact echoing through the alley. A third boy stumbled into a nearby crate, the wooden slats splintering beneath his weight. The sound of shattering wood and the boy's pained yelp filled the air.
But the boys refused to yield, their faces twisted in snarling fury. They closed in on Rhaenerys, a relentless tide of fists and feet. She fought hard, her sword flashing in the dim light, the blade biting deep into the shadows. The air reeked of sweat, blood, and ozone, the stormy sky above seeming to pulse with the intensity of the battle.
Just when it seemed like the boys might overwhelm her, Rhaenerys landed a lucky blow, her sword striking the leader's blade with a shower of sparks. The leader's sword flew from his grasp, clattering on the stones, and the boys faltered. Rhaenerys seized the momentary distraction, her fierce cry echoing off the walls as she launched herself at them. Her sword flashed, a blur of steel and shadow, sending the boys stumbling backward in disarray. They tripped over each other in their haste to escape, their footsteps pounding the cobblestones like a frantic heartbeat.
Finally, they turned and ran, disappearing into the night like the cowards they were. Rhaenerys stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion, her sword still trembling with the force of her final blow.
As she caught her breath, Rhaenerys couldn't help but smile. That hadn't been easy. But she'd done well against her opponent who has outnumbered her. She sheathed her sword, her eyes scanning the shadows for any other potential threats. The night was still young, after all, and she had a feeling it was going to be a long one.
But for now, she had more pressing matters to attend to. Though the fight had been exhilarating, and she had enjoyed every moment of it, tomorrow was a new day, with new challenges to face. And she had preparations to make.
With a final glance around the empty alley, Rhaenerys turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.
Upon entering the manor, Rhaenerys' countenance still reflected the fervor of the altercation. Her brother, Hugh, gazed up from his seat beside the hearth, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Where have you been, sister?" he inquired, his voice measured and calm.
Rhaenerys shrugged, attempting to downplay the significance of her actions. "I was merely out for a walk, brother."
Hugh raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "At this hour, with a sword at your side? I think not, Rhaenerys."
Rhaenerys sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I had a... skirmish. I emerged victorious."
Hugh's face darkened. "Rhaenerys, we've spoken of this. You can't keep putting yourself in harm's way."
Rhaenerys crossed her arms, her jaw set. "I'm doing this for our family, Hugh. For our future."
Hugh's expression turned grave. "I know, sister. And I fear for you. But I also know you're driven by something more... something you can't quite explain."
Rhaenerys' eyes flashed with intensity, but she said nothing.
Hugh's eyes locked onto hers, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've seen something, haven't you? Something that guides your actions."
Rhaenerys' gaze held steady, but Hugh saw the faintest glimmer of confirmation.
"Vow to me, Hugh," she said, her voice low and urgent. "Vow to never betray Queen Rhaenyra's trust."
Hugh's brow furrowed in contemplation, the weight of the vow settling upon him. Then, with a slow, deliberate nod, he spoke the words Rhaenerys sought: "I vow it, Rhaenerys. By the honor of our house, I pledge my loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra, and swear to never betray her trust, upon pain of death and dishonor." The words hung in the air, a solemn promise forged in the fire of conviction.
Rhaenerys' gaze lingered on her brother's face, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Though she'd secured his oath as a precaution, she still intended to forge her own path, with this vow serving as a safeguard against unforeseen circumstances - a secondary plan, should her primary course of action falter.