B L O O M

Trial by Combat

 They were running out of options and the whole castle could tell that Rose was becoming frantic.

Rose couldn't seem to find a willing participant to represent Tyrion again, especially when the man, no, beast they had to face was Gregor Cleagane. Bronn refused outright to represent Tyrion again, smiling charmingly and stopping her before a word left her lips. Jaime also refused because of his hand, and the ominous yet thrilling sense of dread that filled her body fueled her rage and aggression as the Trial by Combat neared.

Rose was desperate, and to calm her exhilarated nerves she dove into every book she could find about Trial by Combat. After three days of pouring over page by page, with a few breaks to calm her nerves by pummeling a stuffed dummy, she stumbled upon something revolutionary. Written by the dusty old man name Maester Crain, in a book that appeared so boring one would wonder why its pages were falling out from use.

"The trial can be fought in two ways; those accused fight on their own behalf, or they elect a representative to fight for their freedom and innocence. This representative should be strong, as the chosen champion by the accusers will be among the strongest soldiers they have. Therefore, it is advised against women representatives. Men would have to be fools to let a woman fight for them before anyone else."

Rose was shocked; women could fight in these trials. Her heart started pumping as the hairs on her skin stood up. A grin found her place as she grabbed the book and quickly cleaned her area of the library, before running out of the grand room. Her pale blue dress with streaks of gold glimmered as she ducked under the sun. Sprinting to Tyrion's cell, where he and Jaime would be.

'I missed this.' She thought, feeling the pull of the risky and deadly task set before her. The pride and rage she felt made her heart race in a familiar way as she grinned, feeding on the adrenaline that consumed her.

She thrived when her life was at stake. The thrill of the unknown, the dangle above the thin rope that held her life together before the god of death would eventually take her. She needed the uncertainty and stress, the busy and hectic lifestyle that came with the threat of imminent death.

Her feet bounced down the stone floors of the dungeon, ducking and hiking up her dress as she neared the orange torch glow that illuminated Tyrion's dark and dingy cell. Jaime standing up in a superior and proud manner while Tyrion sat upon the filthy floor.

"I'll be your champion." She announced, breathing deeply as she calmed her rapid heart. Out of breath from running to the cell so quickly, as she grinned upon the horrified faces of her brothers as they turned to face her.

"I forbid you!"

"You will not die because of me!"

Her brothers screeched, jumping up with mortified faces and wide eyes as she met their terror with a devilish grin. Jaime lifted both of his hands, stopping shortly and dropping his gold hand quickly, before running his real hand through his short and soft hair. Tyrion merely staring at Rose with a dropped jaw and pure, unbridled rage.

"You are my baby sister, you will not represent me during my Trial by Combat." Tyrion's words were sharp and non-negotiable, firmly ordering Rose who merely furrowed her brows in annoyance. "That is that."

"Rosie. You will be fighting the Mountain. The Mountain! No matter where you've been and who you've fought, you won't win this time. Your blood won't be on my hands." Jaime became instantly distraught at the mere concept that he would hold his lifeless baby sister in his hands.

"Why not? Father wants to kill Tyrion? Then he shall kill two children in one swing of the sword; the dwarf and the runaway." Rose said while crossing her arms, leaning against the wooden post in the cell with a raised eyebrow. All reason escaping her mind as she hushed the small part of her conscience that urged her to be cautious and smart.