The She-Wolf of King's Landing • OC x Tyrion Lannister

Chapter 14: Trial by Combat

Today is the day that our fates are sealed. I've always found the idea of trial by combat bizarre and inhumane. Two men beat each other to death just to see if someone is guilty or innocent. It may save our lives though, and if the judges won't listen to reason, perhaps they'll hear the Gods.

I put on the blue dress that Tyrion had given me. As much as I hated to admit it, I do like this dress. I also have gotten sick of wearing the green dress I donned during the reception. After a month of wearing it in a dirty, rat-infested cell, it was now quite tattered.

"Lady Ciara," a member of the Queen's personal guard said to get my attention from outside of the cell. He was with another man in matching armor. I didn't recognize either of them. However, I did recognize that they were holding manacles meant for me. I gave them my hands and they bound them tightly in the irons.

They grabbed my arms and marched me down the hallways. I didn't know this specific area of the castle, but I did know we're going towards the sea based on the salty smell in the air.

As the sunlight hit my face, I blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun, I heard the deafening roar of the crowd. The Mountain and the Viper.. It'll be a beautiful ballad. I am quite confident Prince Oberyn will claim victory if I, a girl who had never swung a real sword before against anyone, stopped his blow when I was merely 17.

"The She-Wolf of King's Landing joins us for this duel!" Oberyn announced jovially as the Kingsguard left me with the prince and his lover, Ellaria Sand, a bastard from Dorne.

"Prince Oberyn. I wouldn't miss it for the world... Partly because I have no choice."

He laughed.

"She's amusing, isn't she, lover?"

Ellaria nodded. She appeared receptive, but was understandably nervous. I would be, too, if Tyrion were in the prince's position.

I speak of Tyrion like he's my lover. That's nowhere close to true. We kissed once, that doesn't count as courtship. Yet, the thought of it sounds appealing to me, now.

Oberyn handed his spear to a servant, who quickly cleaned the blade.

"That armor is alarmingly light," Tyrion said as the guards who had escorted the Lannister left him with us three.

"I like to move around," Oberyn said as he picked up a wine glass.

"At least wear a helme- you shouldn't drink before a fight!" Tyrion protested.

"You learn this during your years in the fighting pits? I always drink before a fight, Lannister," Oberyn said, completely disregarding everything that was said.

"It could get you killed. It could get us killed," Tyrion said, gesturing to he and I.

I turned my attention away from Tyrion and the Dornish nobility. I focused on The Mountain. He had been staring at me for a long time, his eyes angry. I'd assume this was about me humiliating him during The Hand's Tourney yet again. That was nearly three and a half years ago, though.

I was renowned for my knowledge and beauty in King's Landing that was, from what I've heard, uncommon for many northerners. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a warrior, never will be. That day when I blocked Ser Gregor's sword swing with Ice, I wounded his pride. In his mind, killing Oberyn would be killing me. A chance to get equal.