…And So it Begins
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"Look who it is—The Bastard!" Said a voice as it was laced with smugness and mockery.
"The Kingslayer's Bastard~?" Said a second voice, and although not laced with mockery or venom, it was filled with the same degrading words. The word 'Bastard' was probably the first name he had ever heard since he developed the sense? A name that was stuck with him since birth and was a constant reminder of what he was.
"The Splitting image of him but with black hair? You're just a tarnished image? Something you must've gotten from that whore." The third voice was almost condescending, pitiful even—but even he could smell the venom that was laced with her words. These were words that he heard frequently for as long as he could remember—a constant reminder…that he was a bastard…
…Clank! Swish! Clank! Clank!
The sound of metal kissing metal would reverberate throughout the area—alongside it, sweat could be seen flying from the forms of two men who seemed to be dressed in Knights armor, to be precise, shoulder pads, arm guards, and a chest plate. Both were locked in a dance of blades that seemed mesmerizing to those who were uninitiated but to those who were—it was a dance of precision and skill.
The two blades would meet again, interlocking before breaking apart as the two combatants separated from their dance before circling each other. Black hair and Golden blonde hair would be visible as both forgo their helm as they were familiar with each other's skills at this point but that only made it more exciting for the little crowd who had gathered to watch the pair spar in the training yard.
The Black-haired male would be seen sweating visibly, breathing hard, while the Golden-haired Male would carry himself with poise, with small sweat being shown on his forehead as they were going at this for quite a while, about 12 minutes to be exact. The Black-haired Male would then charge in before slashing diagonally with both hands ensnared around the handle keeping a firm grip to not lose his sword—the attack was met with a parry as his adversary knocked it to the side.
'Shit-' the male said internally as his side was open but made the quick decision to make a pivot on his back leg moving into the parry to make a guard with his sword to block the incoming attack which shook his arms and was quick to parry another attack with the flat side of his sword before stepping back out of range.
"Not so fast now Daemon." His adversary didn't give up his advantage and would press further with more attacks which forced the now-named Daemon onto the defensive. The older male clearly showed his skill and prowess that was earned by practicing and fighting with decades of experience and superior strength against his foe but Daemon seemed to hold his own against the flurry of attacks.
Daemon quickly pivoted away from a slash at his head before countering with an attack aimed at the opponent's body which the golden-haired man dodged with fluidity gained from his years of combat. They would then go on to clash steels a few more times before the Golden-haired man made a feint, leading Daemon to raise his sword for a block, which raised his guard and was struck in the midsection, which was luckily blocked by the chestplate he wore.
"Dead. Good spar, Daemon; I'm proud of how far you came." The man whose features seemed regal—a face that screamed royalty and someone of significance and a sight that gave off the impression of a prince from a fable. This man was Jamie Lannister, The Infamous Kingslayer.
"I'm still a few paces behind you father…and thank you for the praise," Daemon replied. Similarly to the Golden-Haired King's guard, Daemon had facial features that were similar to the man, taking a majority of his genes as even at the age of 15 he was showing signs of being a handsome young man and was almost a carbon copy of his father—that's if you take into account the stark different…the hair color.
This was Daemon Waters, The bastard son of Jamie Lannister the Kingslayer. His black hair was a distinctive feature of his, which highlights the features of the boy's mother, which his father refused to tell him about, leading him to assume that she was dead.
"So am I good enough to be knighted?" Daemon asked with jest as he chuckled after commenting on it? Something that was shared with his father who raised his eyebrow and replied.
"You're good, Daemon, but not that good, but I'll say you're not that far from me when I was your age, perhaps closer. So eager to tie the record eh?" Jamie said laughing at the last part. After seeing that the spar was over, most of the crowd would have started to mind their own business, leaving Jamie and Daemon to rack up their weapons before moving to a bench.
"I'm better than all of the squires in King's Landing and even some Knights' father—I should be given the thought-" As daemon was making his case to be knighted he would have heard the voice of someone who he absolutely doesn't want to talk to at this moment.
"Well, well, looks like the bastard wants to play knight. How amusing." The smugness in the tone would cause Daemon to narrow his eyes in silent fury as he would focus on taking off the guard around his arm. Ignoring the voice of the prince in front of him.
"Your grace. Clegane." Said Jamie, who replied, seeing the prince and his hound, who just replied with a grunt, sensing the sudden shift in the air…He took his eyes from the prince back to his squire who he could tell was affected by the comment Prince Joffrey made.
"Cat caught your tongue, bastard? Don't you see me in front of you? Or do bastards forget their manners?" He sneered at Daemon, who stopped what he was doing before taking an intake of air to calm himself. If he lashed out against the prince, the Queen would have his tongue.
"Sorry, your grace," Daemon replied short and curtly, looking him in his eyes, taking in the features of the prince who had golden blonde hair and green eyes—looking similar to his father, highlighting his Lannister features, which he gained from his mother making him adopt handsome features but he wouldn't dare say it to the little prick.
"Hmph, Ser Jamie, Mother has called for you." Joffrey swiftly took his eyes from Daemon before addressing the man of the King's Guard who would show a sad smile at the alternation before nodding. Seeing that Jamie was compliant Joffrey would turn to the scruff and burnt visage of the Hound.
"Let's go hound! Let's see what my little brother is doing," he said, not wanting to stay here any longer as the hound would grunt before leaving the father and son duo.
"I fucking hate him," Daemon whispered so low that only Jamie heard him. After removing the plated armor on his body he quickly threw them on the ground with frustration now visible on his face.
"Careful, Daemon, that's still the crown prince and soon to be your king," Jamie said curtly, squeezing Daemon's wrist to keep him calm.
"So? That doesn't change that he is a prick." Daemon said with frustration laced in his tone.
"Don't worry he will come around-" Jamie said but was cut off as Daemon stood up before saying with a raised tone.
"No, he won't; he only sees me as a bastard!" He said with a raised tone which caused some eyes to stare at him. Not wanting to endure the stares, he left the yard, ignoring Jamie, who was calling out to him.
"That's the only thing everyone sees me as nowadays—the bastard of Jamie Lannister." He says to no one but himself swiftly navigating through the training yard.
"...I'm sorry Daemon. -sigh- Let's see what the queen wants, may the new gods bless me." Jamie said begrudgingly, throwing his armor on the ground and leaving for the Queen Chambers.
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…Chapter 1 End