Post by Katty on Mar 31, 2010 23:04:21 GMT 10
TORTALL FANFICTION SMACKDOWN
Grand Final - Competition Winner
Grand Final - Competition Winner
The entrance to Sir Owen of Jesslaw’s tent was wrenched open. The young knight squinted - in the darkness, it was difficult to make out the identity of the large figure blocking the doorway.
“Jesslaw,” a low voice rumbled, “I have a bone to pick with you.”
Owen recognised the voice as that belonging to Lord Sir Raoul of Malorie’s Peak and Goldenlake. “Sir Raoul.” He greeted the man cautiously, standing. “A bone, you say?”
“Yes.” Raoul stepped inside. In the dim light thrown by the lone candle in his tent, Owen saw that Raoul was holding a sheathed sword in one of his large hands. “I think we are long overdue for a discussion.”
Owen stepped back slowly, towards the stand where he kept his weapons. “Let me light more candles, then.” He indicated to a chair on the table. “Take a seat, Sir.” Owen quickly lit three more candles, throwing more light about the room.
Raoul’s face was stony. “I prefer to stand, Jesslaw.”
Owen shrugged. “As you wish.” He remained standing, located close to his weapons.
“Your planned courtship of Kel is unacceptable.” Raoul began.
“What?” exclaimed Owen. “That is ridiculous. Why is it unacceptable? We’re two consenting adults, and-”
“It is unacceptable because I am going to court Kel,” Raoul began.
“You?” Owen asked incredulously. “You are old enough to be her father. Kel prefers someone her own age!”
Raoul glared. “Kel appreciates experience and skill. She wouldn’t ever allow herself to be courted by a knight still wet behind the ears.” Quickly, he unsheathed his sword, discarding the scabbard. “I’m here to prove that to you, Jesslaw.” Raoul advanced on Owen.
Owen grabbed his sword, bringing it up in time to block Raoul’s sword as it came bearing down on him. The older man was heavy, and the blow rung through his bones. He quickly parried the blow, only to receive another crushing blow from Raoul.
Raoul watched Owen intently. The young knight was a fool, and he was here to show him that he could never win Kel’s heart. He had come to best Jesslaw in a sword fight, to drive the message home.
Raoul stepped forward, ready to strike, when suddenly he stumbled forward, catching his foot on a cloth pile. No, it was too hard to be cloth. He prodded it with his foot. He reached down, curious, pulling back the top layer of cloth.
“No!” cried Owen, but it was too late. The cloth revealed a battered, rotting face, one he had known well in better times – Domitan of Masbolle.
The two men were still for a moment. With a roar, Raoul straightened up, and slashed wildly at Owen. “You killed Dom!” he yelled. “You scum!”
Owen stumbled backwards. “He attacked me!” he yelled. “He was after Kel’s heart as well.”
Raoul slashed at Owen again. The follow-through of his sword knocked over the candles Owen had lit earlier, knocking them into a pile of papers leaning against the side of the tent. The papers caught fire immediately, spreading to the tent wall. The two men were so intent on the other though, that they didn’t notice. “I will make you pay, Jesslaw!”
“You owe me blood, too, Goldenlake!” Owen yelled. “You killed Neal!” He swung his sword at Raoul, but the larger man was beyond his reach.
“I did what I had to. He couldn’t have Kel.” Raoul replied. He glanced on the ground, feeling ill when he recognised the body of Baird of Queenscove on the floor. “How many have you killed, Jesslaw?” he edged around the table in the centre of the room. Smoke had started to fill the air of the tent, though neither man paid any attention to the
“Only three!” Owen retorted. “Domitan of Masbolle, Baird of Queenscove, and Sabine of Macayhill.” He darted away from Raoul. “The same as you, though you couldn’t tell from all the bodies I found!”
“I only killed Alanna the Lioness and Faleron of King’s Reach, besides Nealan.” Raoul argued. “Buri Tourakom, Joren of Stone Mountain, Vania of Conte, Wyldon of Cavall – I had nothing to do with their deaths.” He coughed from the smoke. “What about Rikash Moonsword, Lalasa Isran, Uline of Hannalof and Yukimi noh daiomoru? You’re telling me you had nothing to do with their deaths?”
“Nothing!” Owen began to cough too. The tent was well and truly on fire now, and the air was thick with smoke.
Raoul saw the younger knight’s distraction, and dove for him. He caught Owen’s shoulder, but lost his footing and ploughed into the side of the tent. He caught the wooden tent pole, cutting it in half. The top of the tent suddently pitched, dropping down. Already weakened by fire, it collapsed.
Owen winced at the pain in his shoulder. The gash was shallow but long, and it was his sword arm. Slashing wildly above him, he cut an opening in the collapsed, burning tent and scrambled through. To his left, Raoul did the same.
Coughing, they scrambled off the tent, dropping their scorching metal blades as they went. Owen grabbed a piece of the wooden tent pole and threw it at Raoul. “Take that, Goldenlake!”
Raoul threw himself at Owen. They rolled around on the ground, battling for dominance. They traded blows, until Raoul got the upper hand. Pinning Owen down, he grinned. “What did I say about green knights, Jesslaw?” He raised his fist, ready to strike.
Suddenly, Owen’s hand whipped in front of him, and quick as a flash, stabbed him in the chest. For a moment, Raoul could only stare at the decorative hair pin lodged in his chest, wondering where on earth had Jesslaw procured the sharp metal pin, with its jewelled chain. Then he sagged onto Owen, blood pouring from his wound.
Owen shoved Raoul off him, and crawled away from Raoul’s body. “Looks like I won, Goldenlake.” He called, triumphant. He paused, a grin splitting on his face. “Kel is mine!”
A voice from the growing group of shocked spectators startled him. “What do you mean?” Kel asked behind him, confused. “This... was all for me?” She surveyed the damage and the row of burning tents the first tent had spread to. “I was your prize.”
“Yes.” Owen replied, wincing with pain.
Kel thought for a moment. “Oh. Okay then.” She rushed forward to tend to Owen.
Behind her, King Jonathan held his head in his hands. “This is ridiculous.” He informed Gary. “I’m down a Champion, a Commander of the King’s Own, a Commander of the Queen’s Riders, a Training Master, a Chief Healer and a handful of knights and ladies. Not to mention Thayet’s favourite seamstress, a Stormwing and a zombie.” He sighed. “This is the last time I ever stage a dating competition.”
FINAL TALLY
Owen of Jesslaw: 253
Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak: 214
Total: 467
OVERALL WINNER: Owen of Jesslaw
A big thank you to EVERYONE who participated.
Owen of Jesslaw: 253
Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak: 214
Total: 467
OVERALL WINNER: Owen of Jesslaw
A big thank you to EVERYONE who participated.
And awesome job to Team Raoul, for putting up an immense fight - I really didn't expect Owen to beat Raoul!
