"Arrogant!"
Kevan roared, seizing his chance to attack.
Daeron's gaze sharpened; the instant Kevan closed in, he raised his left-hand blade to parry, pivoted, and slipped to the right of his opponent's unarmored ribs.
Shhk!
His right-hand longsword slashed across the weak joint where breastplate met fauld, carving a bloody groove.
Alarm bells screamed in Kevan's mind; he spun wildly and hacked.
Unarmored against armored, the speed difference was crushing.
The moment Kevan turned, Daeron caught the blow, then sprang back.
"Too slow," Daeron sneered.
Kevan's face flushed as he charged again.
The man was toying with him.
He could have pressed the advantage, yet chose to disengage.
"Haaah!"
With a furious roar Kevan aimed a waist-level cleave.
Daeron repeated the trick: left blade up to block, right blade straight at the seam between breastplate and pauldron.
A blossom of blood burst free.
"Haha, well struck!" Aerys exclaimed, clapping furiously.
Tywin's brows drew together; though his younger brother was faltering, he kept his poise.
"Elder Brother, the whelp's that good?"
Tygett muttered; he should have been the one to fight.
Tywin shot him a look of pure disdain.
Kevan, who had barely awakened his Life Force, couldn't touch the boy—what hope had Tygett but a beating?
Clang! Clang!
Daeron pressed forward, granting Kevan several head-on clashes; sparks showered as three blades collided.
"Your Life Force is unstable."
At last Daeron flicked Kevan's sword aside, kicked him in the chest, and laid both blades two inches from brow and throat.
Kevan froze, Daring not to act rashly.
"Again."
Daeron stepped back, granting a fresh start.
Too few exchanges made for poor spectacle.
"Don't mock me!"
Stung by the charity, Kevan slashed wildly, hoping one chaotic blow would land.
Daeron shed all levity, flooding arms and hips with mercury-thick Life Force.
Instantly his body shifted into an over-clocked state; footwork quickened, twin blades wove faster in straight ascent.
The truth of Life Force is to unlock potential.
One who can bring forth one-hundred percent enters a transcendent state—briefly mortal, briefly divine.
The simplest effect: a stronger aura crushes a weaker across every axis.
This is suppression on the level of life itself.
The probe was over; the real fight began.
Shhk!
Kevan saw only a flash; weak seams split and blood sprayed.
He tried to parry, but had no idea where to guard.
He could only endure the encircling light that flayed him slice by slice.
"How can he be this fast?"
Kevan panted, cold sweat dripping.
In moments seven or eight new cuts bled through his padding to the floor.
"Yield."
Daeron spun, blades once more at brow and throat as Kevan's sword rose overhead.
"Hear me roar!"
Kevan snarled and lunged, refusing to quit.
Daeron read him like parchment; Life Force surged as he ripped upward, dragon-like power shattering the downward cut.
"Aagh!"
Kevan screamed; his upper body felt crushed, palms split, sword spinning away.
Clang!
The blade snapped mid-air, tip quivering in black stone, shattering his will.
"You..."
Kevan stood dumbstruck at the gulf between them.
He too had awakened Life Force, yet couldn't bring it forth, so complete was the suppression.
Daeron gazed calmly, one sword grounded, the other resting light as cloud on Kevan's shoulder.
"You've lost."
Soft words cut deepest.
Kevan lowered his head. "I yield."
He collapsed, strength gone.
The gap was too wide; under the onslaught he couldn't even focus his Life Force.
"Bravo!" "Magnificent!"
The Trial by Combat ended in twists and cheers; lords roared, thrilled by the clash of great houses.
Kevan shut his eyes in pain.
"Up."
Suddenly he heard his opponent's voice.
A hand settled on his shoulder, lifting him.
"Why?"
Kevan opened his eyes, bewildered.
Daeron dropped both swords, gripped Kevan's shoulders, and smiled gently. "My teacher said: when a man rises against me, answer with iron and fire; when he kneels, help him to his feet."
Kevan glanced helplessly toward his elder brother.
Tywin heard, heart mixed, and gave the faintest nod.
Kevan dropped again, voice strained. "Prince Daeron, accept my deepest respect—your skill and honor shame me."
"Don't make me lift you twice, ser."
Daeron grinned and raised him.
Boom!
The gesture detonated like thunder, lifting the duel to legend.
A youthful prince vindicated by victory was already a fine tale; a prince who then raised his beaten foe would be sung for ages.
The Throne Room erupted, lords crimson-faced, shouting the name Daeron Targaryen.
"Haha!"
Daeron beamed, lifting Kevan's wrist so their arms rose together.
This glory would not be his alone.
Kevan: ...with fresh cuts across arms and ribs, the motion nearly split his lungs.
"Yes! Yes!"
Aerys clapped wildly, sure the cheers were for him; soon he dozed off, helped away by Ser Barristan and Ser Gerold.
Only a handful remained.
Daeron stayed.
Fame throughout the Seven Kingdoms was his, but some had still not learned.
He turned toward the Lannister guardsman and the litter-bound Jilian.
The latter couldn't move; the former—"Your Grace, mercy!"
The witness scrambled for escape.
Shhk!
Face blank, Daeron drew a valyrian steel dagger and drove it through the man's left eye.
A twist, and the light in the other eye died.
The corpse thudded to the floor.
"Take Jilian back; feed the carcass to the dogs."
Tywin waved in disgust.
The guard had failed Jilian and failed to testify—alive, he was wasted food.
Other men cleared the hall.
Daeron and Tywin locked eyes; Tywin spoke first. "Boy, you learned well."
He turned to leave.
Daeron answered, "My lord, you taught me too well."
Tywin's stride faltered, then quickened.
"For a while, no one will trouble me."
Daeron mused.
The day had been risky, but the outcome was sweet.
Kevan was no brute; his Life Force newly awakened.
Daeron's swordplay was sharp, and from the first beat his stronger Life Force crushed the man.
Strong Life Force overwhelming weak was the simplest law.
The greatest danger had been Father Aerys, nearly wrecking everything.
Had Ser Barristan taken the field and maimed Kevan, it would have been disaster.