Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

"Get out of the way! What do you idiots want?" The booming voice of Robert Baratheon echoed across the arena. Bloodied and bruised, the king rose to his feet with the support of Ser Barristan Selmy. Glaring at the Gold Cloaks, he bellowed, "Who told you to barge into the fighting arena, you fools? Do you have any idea what you've done? You've ruined a match of unparalleled glory! You've shamed me and every participant here. Now, put away your damn weapons."

The Gold Cloaks, visibly shaken, hastily obeyed, sheathing their weapons and retreating from Lynd.

Jaime Lannister, who had held his sword at Lynd's neck, withdrew the blade and returned to Queen Cersei's side.

Cersei, her voice filled with fury, exclaimed, "Are you mad? He just tried to kill you!"

"Silence, woman!" Robert snapped. "This is between warriors; you are not to interfere!" Pushing Ser Barristan aside, Robert straightened himself, then stormed toward Cersei. His voice thundered, "Go back to your chambers, mind your children, and stop causing trouble." He turned his fiery gaze to Jaime. "What are you waiting for, Kingslayer? Take your sister back to the castle—now! Don't let her disgrace me here any longer."

Robert's public reprimand left both siblings visibly humiliated, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Watching from the sidelines, Lord Tywin Lannister's expression grew dark. He whispered a few words to a nearby aide, who swiftly delivered the message to Jaime and Cersei.

After receiving their father's words, the Lannisters exchanged glances, then silently exited the arena with the Red Keep's guards and the Gold Cloaks in tow.

With the siblings gone, Robert turned to Lynd, who was calmly gathering the two halves of his broken sword from the ground and sliding them back into their sheaths. In a deep, commanding voice, Robert asked, "What is the name of the Tyrell warrior?"

Before Lynd could respond, cries erupted from the Highgarden contingent. "Lynd! Lynd the Bear Hunter!" Supporters from across the Reach, familiar with the famed Bear Hunter's Song, joined in the cheers, chanting his name.

"Bear Hunter Lynd," Robert said, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "It seems you are no ordinary man. I'll remember you—Bear Hunter Lynd, the one who defeated the king." The king stepped forward, clasped Lynd's arm, and hoisted him into the air. His voice roared over the crowd, "Let's hear it for our champion, the Battlelord, Lynd!"

"Battlelord! Battlelord!" The cheers reverberated through the arena, swelling until they spilled into the streets of King's Landing.

Despite Lynd's triumph in the team competition, the Tyrell nobles seemed anything but jubilant. Upon returning to the Tyrell camp, Lynd was promptly ushered into his tent. The somber expressions of those gathered there made it clear: this was no celebration, but a confrontation.

Before Lord Mace Tyrell could speak, one of the nobles stepped forward, his tone sharp and accusatory. "Do you realize what you've done, Lynd of White Holdfast?"

The deliberate mention of Lynd's humble origins was a clear attempt to belittle him. Yet Lynd remained unruffled. His voice calm and steady, he replied, "Of course I know what I've done. Are you confused, my lord? Did I not just win the team competition for House Tyrell? What's the matter—have you already forgotten? Or are you so old that your memory fails you?"

"Pfft!" Garlan Tyrell stifled a laugh at Lynd's retort, quickly masking his amusement with a stern expression.

The noble's face flushed with anger. "Damn it! Of course I know we won the competition. But you dared to lay hands on the king—"

"Wrong!" Lynd interrupted sharply. "I think you misunderstand, my lord. I never laid a hand on the king. I only challenged a warrior who participated in the team competition."

Turning to Mace Tyrell, Lynd's tone grew pointed. "My lord, as I recall, it was you who commanded me to fight in the team competition and to give it my all. And now I have won. I have brought honor to House Tyrell, earned the respect of His Grace, and brought acclaim to our family in the eyes of all the nobles present. Tell me, my lord—was I wrong to do so?"

Mace Tyrell hesitated, unable to form an immediate response.

Lynd's argument was unassailable. While his actions had indeed risked offending King Robert, they had also brought great prestige to House Tyrell. To chastise Lynd for following orders would be both unjust and shortsighted. If Mace Tyrell publicly rebuked a loyal vassal who had fulfilled his mission with excellence, what message would it send to others? Such a move might discourage loyalty and dedication among his retainers.

Lord Mace Tyrell sat in contemplation, recalling the journey back to the camp. Nobles from across the Seven Kingdoms had offered their congratulations, one after another. Even the Starks of the North, not known for their easy camaraderie, had sent an emissary requesting a meeting with Benjen Stark to discuss a matter of importance. Such attention, unprecedented over the past year, was a clear indication of the shifting dynamics within the new regime—and it was all due to Lynd's victory in the group competition.

It became evident to Mace that Lynd's triumph had elevated the standing of House Tyrell. The sudden recognition from influential families was something he could not ignore. Questioning Lynd or holding him accountable now seemed irrational, yet he was at a loss for how to gracefully resolve the situation he had unwittingly created.

Sensing his father's discomfort, Garlan stepped forward to diffuse the tension. "Bear Hunter," he said warmly, "you've done nothing wrong. In fact, your performance in the group competition was exemplary. The reason you were summoned here was not to be reprimanded but to discuss your reward. You've brought great honor to House Tyrell and earned glory in the Seven Kingdoms. Such a contribution must not go unrewarded."

Turning to Ser İzmir, the noble who had voiced accusations earlier, Garlan added pointedly, "I believe you may have misunderstood my father's intentions."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Mace Tyrell quickly seized the opportunity to agree, nodding emphatically. "Ser İzmir must have misunderstood."

The change in tone was unmistakable. Lynd, recognizing the opportunity to let the matter rest, responded with a respectful bow. "It is my honor to serve House Tyrell. As for a reward, I dare not make demands. I trust that House Tyrell has its own standards for rewarding service, and I will humbly accept whatever is deemed appropriate."

Mace Tyrell, regaining his composure, spoke in an almost magnanimous tone. "Fear not, Lynd. House Tyrell is never stingy when it comes to rewarding those who have rendered great service. For now, go and rest. You must be weary after such a tumultuous day."

Lynd inclined his head in gratitude and turned to leave, only to be stopped by Garlan. "Wait!" Garlan called out. Lynd turned back, his expression puzzled, as Garlan gestured toward the swords hanging from Lynd's waist. "I think you should return those swords to me."

Smiling, Lynd unbuckled the swords and offered them back to Garlan, holding them with both hands. "Lord Garlan, these swords played a crucial role in our victory today. I was planning to return them after cleaning them properly…"

Taking the swords, Garlan handed them to a nearby servant and shook his head with a wide grin. "No, no, you mustn't clean them. Their worth lies in the story they carry. These are the swords that nearly accomplished the feat of felling a hundred foes in the tournament. After today, they'll be remembered as legendary artifacts. I intend to preserve them as they are."

At Garlan's playful remark, laughter rippled through the tent, instantly breaking the tension.

Vortimer chimed in at that moment, "Don't bother cleaning my armor either. Just have it taken off and sent directly to me."

"Yes, my Lord," Lynd replied, smiling.

After leaving the main tent, Lynd made his way to his own quarters. Along the way, Tyrell soldiers—those who had fought alongside him and those who had remained in King's Landing during the War of the Usurper—came forward to salute him. Their expressions brimmed with awe, a testament to the respect Lynd had earned. His display of strength in the tournament had left a lasting impression, and despite his status as merely a knight's squire, they treated him with the reverence owed to a great lord.

Politely excusing himself, Lynd claimed exhaustion and urged the gathered soldiers to disperse. Once alone, he called on his assistant, Raul, to help remove his armor. Following Vortimer's instructions, Lynd ensured the armor was sent to its owner without cleaning it.

When the tent finally fell silent, Lynd turned his attention to Glory, still locked in its iron cage. Although only confined for a short time, Glory had grown restless, evident from the bite marks and cracks on the iron bars. As soon as Lynd released the creature, Glory voiced its displeasure, biting his wrist—not to harm him, but as an expression of frustration.

Lynd chuckled and spent some time calming Glory, feeding and reassuring it until the creature finally relaxed. Then, with Glory by his side, he lay down on the simple wooden bed, letting his body unwind. Stroking the creature, he allowed himself to sink into the calm, a reprieve from the mental and physical strain he had endured.

While he had seemed effortless in the arena, the truth was that the battle had pushed him to his limits. In the heat of competition, adrenaline had dulled the strain, but now, in the quiet safety of his tent, exhaustion and the toll on his body became apparent. His muscles ached, and his mind felt drained. Only by lying still could he begin to recover.

Gradually, the overwhelming fatigue subsided as his body adjusted to the strain. Though he felt somewhat better, his movements remained sluggish. Still, he refrained from rising, choosing instead to focus on the energy bar in his mind—a feature of his mysterious cheat.

Before the competition, the energy bar had been nearly a quarter full. Now, to his surprise, it was completely filled. This should have marked the unlocking of a new power, but to his frustration, nothing seemed to happen. The energy bar sat inert, showing no signs of activation, even as he concentrated on it.

Doubt crept into Lynd's thoughts. Could the cheat truly be so limited, offering him only the one-time boon of the Peacekeeper's abilities? But he quickly dismissed the idea. It didn't make sense for such a powerful tool to be so restricted.

Reflecting further, he recalled the box of Dragonbone he kept in the tent. In earlier experiments, he had discovered a faint reaction between the Dragonbone's energy and the cheat's system. While those tests had yielded no breakthroughs, the Dragonbone's energy had caused the cheat to flicker. This gave him hope that the Dragonbone might hold the key to unlocking the energy bar's new potential.

Determined, Lynd dragged the heavy box of Dragonbone to the edge of the bed. Calling Raul, he instructed the assistant to stand guard outside and ensure no one disturbed him. Only then did he open the box and lay his hands on the Dragonbone.

As before, waves of heat radiated from the material, surging through his body. The cheat's energy bar began to flicker faintly. Focusing his mind on the bar, Lynd willed it to activate, but the response remained lackluster. The bar flickered and shimmered but refused to change. Disappointed, he prepared to stop the test and remove his hands from the Dragonbone.

Just as he did, something subtle caught his eye. The energy bar, previously static, now displayed faint shadows at either end. Intrigued, Lynd concentrated harder. Slowly, the shadows grew more defined, eventually resolving into two distinct figures.

The first figure was blurry, its form constantly shifting, as though made of smoke. The second was sharp and clear, depicting a person wielding two swords.

When the figures were fully formed, Lynd focused his mind on them. To his astonishment, new information flooded his mind. The two figures represented choices offered by the cheat.

The blurry figure symbolized an unknown power—a random draw from the other Heroes of For Honor. Choosing this would grant him a new character's abilities and weapons, broadening his skillset in unpredictable ways. The clear figure, wielding two swords, represented a direct enhancement to his existing skillset. Selecting it would grant him another dual-sword-wielding character, sharpening his swordsmanship and elevating his combat ability with two blades to an entirely new level.