The fucking roar of the crowd echoed in the goddamn Dragon Pit, pounding against Jasim Stackhouse's and Darvin Casterly's ears with brutal rage. It was as if the clamor of the spectators merged with the fury of their rivals, creating a cacophony so fucked up and violent that it could make even the Great Other tremble.
Jasim Stackhouse and Darvin Casterly entered the arena together, not as allies but like a wolf and a lion forced to share territory.
Jasim looked up and observed how the nobles crowded onto their balconies, their noses pointed arrogantly toward him with that shitty attitude, watching the godforsaken chaos of the tournament.
Darvin raised his hand and clenched his fingers, leaving only the middle finger upright, pointing it at one of those bastards who laughed while taking gulps of sour wine from a jug, just after Jasim had broken another warrior's neck.
Jasim noticed that Darvin was lost in another fucking world when some asshole approached him from behind with a knife in hand.
"Behind you, shit!" roared Jasim, warning his companion, who like him was unarmed according to the pre-combat agreement.
Darvin reacted like a demon, dodging the damn dagger with a jump that made one of the nobles drop the piece of chicken he was eating.
Darvin felt adrenaline coursing through every fucking nerve in his body.
Without thinking, he lunged to grab a dagger, his favorite weapon, from among the bodies that Jasim had torn apart using only his hands.
With a move wilder than any warrior on the continent of Essos, he grabbed the dagger and, without much thought, slit his attacker's throat.
For a moment, Darvin allowed himself to think that maybe he was enjoying this, but deep down, he felt it was pulling him further away from his goal.
Darvin wiped the dagger on the dead man's clothes, spat on him, and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then looked toward Jasim.
Jasim was a hulking figure from the North, tall, robust, and capable of enduring long battles, but what had happened to him earlier during the ambush at the market had left him weakened, and now worse, surrounded by eight knights who had once served in the Kingsguard.
Rylen Ageamon watched everything, curling his lips upward and baring his teeth.
"Look at them, Chadha! They kill each other for a handful of gold and a bit of honor," he spat. "They don't even know the meaning of that word. I hope all these bastards die soon so we can finally have a world without wars."
Chadha Daa turned her head toward Rylen. She had always wondered about the reason behind the tournament, and although Rylen had shown her trust by being the only person who had seen his face, she dared not ask. But now the answer hit her so hard that she had no words to respond.
When the fight ended, only the scattered remains of men dismantled by the northerner's hands and others slaughtered by the southerner remained. However, Darvin and Jasim did not emerge unscathed.
"You look like a whore after an orgy," spat Jasim Stackhouse, making sure the words didn't come out mixed with blood.
"If I'm a whore, what does that make you?" replied Darvin, dragging himself over to where Jasim was, careful not to let his guts spill out from the wound in his stomach.
"Catelyn Stark, after those damn Freys betrayed us during Robb Stark's wedding," responded Jasim, mocking both the woman's fate and their own.
Perhaps they wouldn't make it out alive. Perhaps neither of them would achieve their goals or fulfill their objectives.
"Are you two just going to sit there until you both die? Or are you going to accept my help?" asked Chadha, crossing her arms.
Jasim turned to look at her. For a moment, he wished he could get up and grab a dagger to stab Chadha Daa in the chest, but the truth was, just looking at himself was enough to understand the mediocre situation he was in.
Chadha approached with steps like a snake about to strike its prey, but when she got close to Jasim, she simply knelt down and began applying bandages.
Jasim and Chadha's eyes locked for a long time. There was something about this man from the North that made her act against all her usual behavior.
Jasim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't know why the scent emanating from the girl's hair gave him a sense of inner peace.
"Hey! Summer Girl! Do you think only my friend needs attention?" complained Darvin, interrupting the moment.
"You can go ahead and die, Darvin," said Jasim, not because he truly wanted that to happen, but because it had made the girl pull away from him.
Darvin looked at him for a few seconds, letting his mind process what he was about to do, and with as much calm as he could muster, he smiled before freeing himself from what was tormenting him.
"If I die today, you won't be able to avenge your brother's killer."
Chadha Daa approached Darvin and wrapped a bandage around his abdomen to prevent his guts from spilling out.
"You son of a bitch! Why are you confessing this to me now?" asked Jasim, trying to stand up, but his strength faltered. He didn't know what hurt more: the wounds on his body, coming face-to-face with his brother's killer, or the fact that the damn murderer had become the person to whom he owed his life.
Jasim wanted to ask Darvin why he had killed his brother, but Chadha interrupted him.
"We need to hurry. I don't have much time. If he notices my absence, he won't take long to return here."
"Who?" spoke Jasim.
Chadha was about to speak, but a voice emerged from the darkness asking,
"Are you going to keep me waiting, or do you want to end up like them?"
"Rylen Ageamon," whispered Chadha.
Jasim and Darvin tried to stop her, but she only looked at them for a moment longer before walking toward the voice.
"Chadha, wait! There's something I want to ask you!" exclaimed Jasim, leaning to pick up his sword and get to his feet. But she had already left the Dragon Pit.
"Maybe she isn't what she seems," he said, looking at his companion.
"Then, my friend, we'll have to find out," replied Darvin.
Rylen Ageamon walked beside Chadha Daa, covered from head to toe in a black cloak.
"Look how that horse runs, Chadha. It looks desperate to find its master," Rylen pointed to the black stallion.
But her mind was elsewhere—in the Dragon Pit, on the man from the North.
"Chadha!"
Rylen's shout snapped the young woman out of her trance.
"Forgive me, my lord," she replied, bowing her head.
"Listen carefully! I don't want you interfering in what happens during the fights or afterward ever again."
Chadha swallowed, aware that she had crossed a line.
"I don't want to have to harm the only woman I trust," Rylen continued.
Chadha took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, feeling that everything was returning to normal, at least for a moment. Until Rylen Ageamon's hand grasped hers and guided it to his chest.
Chadha felt Rylen's heart racing and wanted to say something, but he placed his free hand over Chadha Daa's lips, causing her heart to race and fall silent.
"Chadha, I… I love you," Rylen murmured.
Mordisco, who had sniffed his master's scent lingering on the girl's hands, paused for a moment, but when he saw the man so close to her, he neighed as if hell itself had touched him, and galloped through the streets of King's Landing with a fury that made beggars scatter out of his path.