Chapter 259: The Duel Through Sansa's Eyes
Winterfell, Stark Lands
POV of Sansa Stark
Sansa watched as the two men began to circle each other. Their steps were firm and balanced. Both looked ready to pounce on the other at the drop of a hat.
But even to her own inexperienced eyes, she had a feeling that Lord Bolton was walking with more grace and ease compared to Ser Jamie, who looked tense.
Maybe it was just her bias talking. But Robb had told her that Lord Bolton was a great swordsman.
Perhaps even greater than Varko himself, who was considered the greatest swordsman in Westeros after he defeated both Ser Jamie and Ser Barristan the Bold twice in single combat in the melee tournaments in King's Landing.
She hoped that Domeric would win.
After her conversation with Domeric, Sansa met with the people in Winterfell she wanted to say goodbye to, one by one, without revealing anything.
She couldn't say goodbye to them, but she could at least have one last conversation. After all, she didn't know when or if she would see them again.
She would miss her family, but she would prefer the Dreadfort to King's Landing.
At least Arya would soon be arriving at Dreadfort. They might not have been on the best of terms in the past, but Sansa was no longer one of those naive, black-and-white seeing dreamers.
From an early age, Arya had always known what she wanted to be, and Sansa frankly envied her in that regard.
The woman Domeric loved, Ygritte, was frankly more similar to Arya than to Sansa in terms of her skills, talents, and character. Both were free-spirited people.
Could Domeric have a greater appreciation for such women? Perhaps it was time for Sansa to learn something other than sewing and embroidery.
"Show him, Uncle Jamie." Sansa heard Prince Joffrey shout.
Usually, her heart would feel heavy as she saw Prince Joffrey or heard his voice. It reminded her of her betrothal to the Prince, and therefore her broken betrothal to Domeric.
The prince might look like a decent man from the outside, but Sansa knew his true colors, and even if he wasn't a sadist, he wasn't a Domeric after all. In fact, there was no comparison between the two.
But now, neither Prince Joffrey's face nor his voice bothered her anymore. After their conversation with Domeric, he had agreed to take her to Dreadfort, replacing her with someone else.
Sansa didn't know how Domeric would manage this, but she had complete faith in him. If anyone could achieve the impossible, it was Domeric himself.
But she already felt ashamed that she was now betrothed to the prince. True, it was her father who broke the betrothal between her and Domeric without even consulting Lord Bolton, but to her it felt like she herself had betrayed him.
And now she had learned that Domeric loved someone else, and she didn't know if there was any way to win his heart back. But she would do what she could.
Domeric was the only person she loved, and if she couldn't be with him, she would rather be with no one at all. Staying at Dreadfort for the rest of her life, helping Domeric in any way she could, was better for her than living far away from him.
But Sansa had no intention of accepting defeat so easily. She ultimately aimed to win a place in Domeric's heart. Wife or lover no longer mattered to her, and if that meant convincing the woman Domeric loved, she would do it.
Perhaps Lady Barbrey could help her or offer some advice. Sansa would speak to her when she arrived at the Dreadfort.
She was brought out of her thoughts as the two men paused in their steps to talk about something.
They were talking in low voices, but she felt that Lord Bolton was mocking Ser Jamie regarding something.
A moment later, Ser Jaime charged forward and received a shield to the face, as Lord Bolton, instead of defending, also charged forward and bashed him with his shield.
The duel started, and almost instantly she could see that Lord Bolton was not only stronger but also faster than Ser Jamie, who had been on the back foot since the start of the duel.
And Domeric didn't swing a sword like someone his age. No one would have expected such proficiency from a 17-year-old. Even Ser Jamie, one of the youngest swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms, wasn't as skilled as Domeric at 17.
While watching the duel with interest, Sansa felt a warm muzzle prod her and turned around to find Lady looking at her for attention.
Sansa felt compelled to find a way to leave Lady in Winterfell and then bring her to Dreadfort.
She didn't want to send her to King's Landing with a stranger. And the thought of the prince's attitude toward animals only strengthened her resolve.
She gave her a sad smile and patted her before she looked back at the battle.
Lord Bolton had backed Ser Jamie into a corner and had disarmed the Kingsguard of both his sword and dagger, who was not trying to defend himself against Lord Bolton's continuous assault.
The Bolton men cheered at the sight, and the Starks joined in as well.
Clank! Clak! Thump! Dinnggg!!! Tink!!
The sound of metal fists striking metal armor continued to ring as Lord Bolton threw down his own sword and shield in favor of punching Ser Jamie, who was not ever able to defend himself properly by this point.
She turned to her brother Robb, who was sitting beside her, and asked, "Do things like this happen often in duels?"
Robb looked lost for words for a few moments, too distracted by the one-sided beatdown in front of him, before he looked at her and said, "Duels can get bloody more often than not, but this…"
Yeah… she had never heard one champion punching the other into oblivion like this, especially when both of them were wearing armor.
But Domeric looked dashing anyway. Not only had he defeated one of the strongest swordsmen in Westeros in a matter of seconds, but he'd also battered the Kingslayer beyond resistance.
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.260: Sansa's Promise to Herself
Ch.261: Ritual Preparations
Ch.262: Dragon Army Plan