Post by Knox Brandon Blackwood on Jul 13, 2010 0:34:49 GMT -5
Knox awoke with the dawn. Something in his body seemed to react to the fact that a tournament was near. He had hardly slept the previous night for he knew that he would be jousting in the morning. The young prince loved to joust and he was fairly good at it. Actually, he was very good at it. Many people knew Knox to be a bit spoiled, and to be a bit young and therefore foolish, but they also knew him to be unrelenting and competitive. Sometimes, his desire to win was his greatest redeeming quality at least in the opinion of many of the people in Avalon. People knew their prince had his faults, his temper and his pride for example, but they also knew that he wanted to have Avalon be the greatest kingdom of them all and wanted to be a great king. His competitive nature would help him with that and have the added benefit of helping the people in the process. While yes, it would have been better if Knox had wanted to be a good king out of a desire to help the people rather than his own pride and vanity, the end result would be the same. His pride turned out to also help his people as their glory was his glory and when his kingdoms achieved greatness, so would he; as a king, their fortunes were tied together.
It was not just his for own glory that he fought for that day, but the glory of his kingdom. Knox was skilled as a knight, easily one of Avalon’s best, but he also had the benefit of great training in the art and the fortune to be buying newer and lighter armor that was as strong as the clunky armor many of the older knights favored. He saw that his armor had been freshly polished, likely the work of his manservant, Rubin. Knox did feel a bit guilty for the way he had treated Rubin and Cora when he had seen them the previous day. He had over reacted and he knew it, but his pride would not permit him to apologize to a servant. Still, Knox knew that he had lost his temper and he had to work on better control of it in the future.
It probably didn’t help that he had fought with Anne and Rubin had overheard. He and his sister had quarreled and he wasn’t sure why, but it had especially annoyed him that someone else had been there to overhear it. Did Knox regret his fight with his sister? Slightly, he had meant to upset her with some of the things he had said, and that is what he felt guilty for. Yet, it wasn’t entirely his fault; Anne had been acting irrationally and he had lashed out to her criticism. He liked to think that he had not asked Cosette simply because he usually fought for the princesses of neighboring kingdoms but subconsciously it was because he knew it would upset his twin.
This tournament, Knox fought for no lady, only for his own personal glory, and the glory of his kingdom. That was more than enough. He could not wait for the tournament to begin not only for the chance of victory, but for the chance to blow off steam. Knox often expressed himself physically as well as verbally. His temper manifested physically and often, that was the best way for him to release it. Knox loved to compete, he loved the thrill of it and the rush of adrenaline to his system, but today, more than ever, he needed it. Knox needed to blow off the steam, currently building up inside him.
He ate a hasty breakfast that had been prepared for him, no one else in sight. His servant had been nearly invisible for the past few days, still cowering in fear likely, it only made Knox feel guilty, and mad at himself. A just king wouldn’t have lost his temper on so trivial a matter. It was just another thing that was adding to the stress that needed to be released for the young prince. He could hardly sit still to eat his breakfast such was his anticipation for the tournament. After trying to eat for a little bit, Knox realized it was useless to try to sit down any longer; he needed to get down to the lists.
The breakfast that had been put out was left, half uneaten on the plate and he pushed up, dressing in his clothing for under his armor and grabbed his armor to carry down to the tournament grounds. He checked in early and surveyed the grounds, acknowledging the few peasants already gathered to watch. There was a pavilion prepared for him to wait in while he was not competing. Luckily for him, his squire, the son of a noble not yet old enough to compete as a knight, but old enough to train as a knight, was waiting help Knox put on his armor. The tournament was due to start in a few hours and though the squire could not compete for himself, he could help Knox warm up. The pair sparred for a bit, neither putting his best effort forth, well, at least Knox was not, he couldn’t say as much for the squire. Then before he knew it, the other knights were beginning to arrive.
Knox suited up into his tournament armor, which was different than his training armor as it was a bore more décor; the metal of his chain mail had been treated during the heating process so that it was black with red links scattered about it. His personal crest and motto were engraved in into the metal of his breastplate, though he had not wished for the pattern to also be painted on. He only wore this armor for battles and jousts, rarely to train except when it was being tested. The pattern identified him as if the crest which was painted and engraved on his shield would not. There were dozens of lances in his colors scattered about the pavilion and though Knox had been able to relieve some of the tension plaguing him, there was still enough stored up that he was more anxious than usual for the tournament to begin.
Luckily, he didn’t have much longer to wait as the sound of horns reached his ears, calling him and his competition to the lists to be presented and for the opening ceremonies to begin. He spotted his sisters and parents sitting in the Berfrois with the other royals watching the games. He nodded to his sister, Anne, still a bit angry with her for her outburst, but willing to forgive if she was. She turned her head away from him, refusing to acknowledge him and his temper rose again. Perhaps he should have asked for Cosette’s favors out of spite. It wasn’t too late, he was sure that she was in the berfrois as well. What a statement it would be to ask for her favors in front of the entire crowd. Yet, a small voice in the back of his mind warned him not to and for once, he decided to heed its advice.
The rest of the Invocation passed in a blur for Knox; he could hardly pay attention to his own father such was his excitement and anticipation. His horse, clad in its caparison of red and black with chevrons to match his crest, was also anxious beneath him. It seemed the horse was as ready as the young prince to compete. In Knox’s mind, it had been far too long since the last tournament; he would have been happy bouncing from tournament to tournament constantly. The women always seemed to look their best, and the men were always at their most chivalrous and gallant. There was feasting and dancing every night and Knox could think of nothing more perfect.
It pleased him to hear that he would have the first match of the day, and he returned to his pavilion to prepare. Though he was a bit disappointed that his first match was against some knight from Camelot that he had never heard of. Though the opponent had the advantage of being able to take advantage of Knox’s lack of knowledge about his opponent’s style of jousting, Knox was confident in his ability to win; he would accept nothing else. Knox’s motto was “nil satis nisi optimum” which translated to “only the best is good enough”. It was a motto he took to heart; Knox would settle for nothing but tournament victory. He tried to loosen his muscles but his movements were restricted in his armor. With a sigh, he left the pavilion and mounted his horse to the cheers of his people. Knox was never sure what the people of Avalon thought of him, but he was grateful that regardless what they thought of him on a day to day basis, they were out in droves to support him, some going so far as to pain the portion of his crest that he placed on his shield onto their own faces. It made him smile and he waved, somewhat cheerfully before putting his helmet on.
He signaled for his squire to bring him his lance as he put his helmet on his head. Knox eyed his opponent through the slit in his visor. It was a knight he was unfamiliar with but Knox had confidence in his own abilities. All he wanted was for the tournament to start the eagerness was like a hum in his veins waiting to pour out. The young prince could barely wait at this point, it was a marvel to him that he had been able to wait as long as he had. Now, he was being forced to wait as the heralds attempted to bolster their knights and Knox was very tempted to send his squire to shut his own herald up so they could get on with the match but thought better of it. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the heralds backed away and a boy ran forward flag in hand.
Knox took the lance from his squire, liking the feel of the weight in his hand. It was decorated in his colors of black and red, with silver throw in as well. His lances were made out of solid oak though most knights did not use the heavy wood instead favoring lighter woods that were more easily broken. However, Knox liked the challenge that the oak presented and the punch it carried when it landed a blow. Though breaking lances was the easiest way to score points, Knox preferred to unhorse his opponent, only switching to lighter lances if in danger of losing and in dire need of points, which was rare.
He rode to the end of the barrier separating himself from his opponent and bow slightly on his horse to acknowledge his adversary. The man bowed back and Knox slammed down his visor and his horse neighed, knowing what was to come. Then, the flag waved and Knox was off. His horse raced down the right side of the barrier and Knox lowered his lance, taking aim at his opponent’s chest. The blow hit the man and pushed him backward though he managed to stay on his horse to Knox’s annoyance though the other knight’s blow had only glanced off of his shield.
The prince turned and rode back to his squire, fighting the urge to swear as flag was hung, indicating that he had scored. Knox had wanted to unhorse the man and was angry that the Camelot knight had managed to stay on. A low growl escaped his throat as the squire handed him another lance. Knox picked it up and his horse reared back as he directed it toward the divider once more. The flag waved again and Knox charged. Once again, the lance shattered despite its weight on his opponent’s breastplate, but the man had managed a more valuable point against Knox. The Knight had landed a hit on the prince’s helmet making the score two to two and damaging Knox’s helmet. He heard the gasp of the crowd and saw stars from the blow. His squire rushed forward and the wrenched the bent helmet off of the prince’s head.
He looked up and saw his sister, Anne, her attention finally on him looking panic stricken and on her way toward him. Give me a lance and tell my sister to wait for me in the pavilion
The cheers of the crowd for Camelot only served to enrage him more and once again, Knox signaled for a new lance and sensing the prince’s irritation, the squire nearly tripped in his haste. His hand slammed down his new visor and at the wave of the flag, charged forward, as fast as the horse would carry him, the spurs on Knox’s feet digging into the poor animal’s sides urging it faster and faster. The two knight neared each other, both lowering their lances almost simultaneously. Knox was half a second faster and between the momentum of the horse, the weight of Knox’s lance and the power the combined behind it the blow was enough to send the knight of Camelot careening off the horse and into the mud.
The peasants from Avalon exploded in thunderous applause as their prince threw his hand into the air in victory. A pleased smile lit up his features as he removed his helmet, the traces of his earlier anger and anxiety completely forgotten. He rode his horse around the lists a few times, waving to the crowd as the horse galloped in a victory lap of sorts. Then, he saw the signal to clear the area so the next match could take place. He walked into the pavilion, still in his armor and saw his sister waiting there, looking a bit nervous but pleased all the same.
No words needed to be exchanged between them; they had a way of simply understanding each other at times and Knox knew that they were no longer fighting with one another. He was relieved; he hated fighting with Anne and found his life much more enjoyable when they were on good terms. With a sigh, he simply looked at her and set his helmet on the table. Anne, help me out of my armor please.[/color] he asked and she sprang up to help him. Are you alright? she asked, concerned as she removed his breastplate. He looked at her for a moment and then simply embraced her, glad that they were on good terms again, or at least seemed to be. Neither of them would ever apologize, but that was fine with him because he had won and they had still managed to make up. For now, all he wanted was to get out of his armor and watch the rest of the tournament with his sister until his next opponent was revealed.
TAGGED:: anyone
WORDS:: 2,613
NOTES:: The fight with Anne happened in the IC box as did Knox scarring rubin. I also play Anne so all of her actions are okay by me and if the admins wish I can make her an actual post from her pov. These one two three are most of my sources as well as watching the Tudors on showtime and Merlin and a Knight's TaleLYRICS BY:: SEX ON FIRE - KINGS OF LEON
CREDIT TO:: RORA AT HOS[/color][/center][/font][/size]
