Post by journeycat on Feb 14, 2010 4:42:05 GMT 10
Title: The Better Man
Rating: PG
Length: 355 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: Wyldon and Raoul joust.
-----
The stands had never been this crowded for a joust. There had never been this much money at stake. Some houses had gambled all they were worth; this tournament would make or break their fortunes. The crowd was loud, howling, and deafening, screaming their support for their competitor of choice.
At one end, Wyldon rechecked his saddle straps before he mounted his horse and moved it forward, positioning himself at his allocated spot. He accepted a lance and examined it carefully.
At the other end, Raoul rolled his shoulders as Alan hurriedly passed him a lance. His mount tossed his head excitedly and moved up on his own accord to face Wyldon.
Moment of truth, Raoul thought grimly. Now we’ll find out who’s the better man.
The signal—and the knights charged.
It was an intense and somewhat anticlimactic joust. Neither man was unseated; neither lance shattered. If Raoul had improved his technique since their last joust, well—Wyldon certainly hadn’t unimproved. It was still like tilting against a brick wall that could wield a lance better than the average knight.
“The judges are undecided,” the herald announced, completely befuddled. “The match is inconclusive.”
“Can that even happen?” Alan muttered.
“I think it happened before when I was a page,” Raoul replied, staring down the field at his opponent. “That was more than fifty years ago, maybe even sixty. And no one won because they simply both died.”
“Died?” His squire blinked.
“Ran each other through with their lances,” Raoul shrugged. “It was old Roald’s fault—he should’ve known better than to let a haMinch and a Naxen joust.”
His mind was hardly on the old feud between the two houses; he was watching Wyldon lead his horse off the field, seemingly unperturbed about his not-victory and not-loss. He should’ve been proud of himself. After all, few could remain sitting in the saddle when up against Cavall, much less draw an inconclusive result.
But he knew it didn’t matter, and it galled him deep inside. Because at the end of the day, Wyldon still had Keladry in his bed, and Raoul did not.
Rating: PG
Length: 355 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: Wyldon and Raoul joust.
-----
The stands had never been this crowded for a joust. There had never been this much money at stake. Some houses had gambled all they were worth; this tournament would make or break their fortunes. The crowd was loud, howling, and deafening, screaming their support for their competitor of choice.
At one end, Wyldon rechecked his saddle straps before he mounted his horse and moved it forward, positioning himself at his allocated spot. He accepted a lance and examined it carefully.
At the other end, Raoul rolled his shoulders as Alan hurriedly passed him a lance. His mount tossed his head excitedly and moved up on his own accord to face Wyldon.
Moment of truth, Raoul thought grimly. Now we’ll find out who’s the better man.
The signal—and the knights charged.
It was an intense and somewhat anticlimactic joust. Neither man was unseated; neither lance shattered. If Raoul had improved his technique since their last joust, well—Wyldon certainly hadn’t unimproved. It was still like tilting against a brick wall that could wield a lance better than the average knight.
“The judges are undecided,” the herald announced, completely befuddled. “The match is inconclusive.”
“Can that even happen?” Alan muttered.
“I think it happened before when I was a page,” Raoul replied, staring down the field at his opponent. “That was more than fifty years ago, maybe even sixty. And no one won because they simply both died.”
“Died?” His squire blinked.
“Ran each other through with their lances,” Raoul shrugged. “It was old Roald’s fault—he should’ve known better than to let a haMinch and a Naxen joust.”
His mind was hardly on the old feud between the two houses; he was watching Wyldon lead his horse off the field, seemingly unperturbed about his not-victory and not-loss. He should’ve been proud of himself. After all, few could remain sitting in the saddle when up against Cavall, much less draw an inconclusive result.
But he knew it didn’t matter, and it galled him deep inside. Because at the end of the day, Wyldon still had Keladry in his bed, and Raoul did not.
I thought to myself, 'How dare she make a wonderful Raoul-is-awesome bit about Wyldon?' But then I got over it and decided that you were actually quite clever with your ship-hood. 
