The first day of the melee.

You awaken from a deep and restful sleep into an empty bed. You look around but see no sign of Ulfric. You panic briefly but then he enters the tent. "You're finally up" he says, smiling, "I was just about to throw a bucket of water over you" he grins. You return his grin. "You really do need to get up though" he says, a little more seriously "I'm due at the melee in an hour, I need your help preparing".

You get up quickly and help him into his armour. You feel nervous, as if it was you was about to fight. "Are you feeling confident sir?" you ask.

He gives you a smile. "More than I was before last night". The statement gives you a flutter of pride. You really want him to do well and the fact you helped him...relax...feels amazing.

"You'll be great" you say, confidently, "I know you will."

You follow Ulfric to the melee. As his attendant, you're allowed to watch from the sidelines. All around, raised benches are packed with other contestants, squires, nobles. and peasants alike. The noise is almost tangible; shouting, cheering, booing. You're quickly swept up into the crowds euphoria, understanding why this is such a huge event. You watch as powerful men swing heavy swords at one another. They're blunt edged, but you see some contestants walk away with nasty looking cuts and bruises. You begin to feel concerned about Ulfric's safety.

His first match of the day comes up and you watch him enter the field. Your heart hammers against your chest, dreading what might happen next. Your fears, however, seem to be misplaced. The squire who fucked you was right, Ulfric was a great fighter. His first opponent was a hulking, brute of a man. You felt sure Ulfric was outmatched, but each heavy swing made by the brute was deftly dodged by Ulfric. He didn't even try to counter attack his opponent, he just kept dodging and parrying. The crowd began to get restless with his evasive tactics, but Ulfric ignored them. Finally, when sweat was visibly pouring from him, Ulfric unleashed a flurry of blows. His opponent could hope to defend himself, being completely exhausted and slow to begin with. Metal rang against metal until at last, the brute fell to his knees. The crowd erupted in a roaring cheer which Ulfric acknowledged with a raised hand before quitting the field, victorious.

"Sir! That was amazing!" you gush as your master returns. You help him out of his breastplate and coif. Beneath his chest is heaving, more out of excitement than fatigue. You give him water and stand by him as he recovers.

"The trick is to know your opponent" he says, once he's caught his breath "doesn't matter how strong you are if you waste it. Flemick" apparently the name of his opponent "is a strong fighter, but he couldn't his the broad side of a barn", Ulfric laughs. "Of course, don't go telling him I said so".

Ulfric fought in one more match that day. You expected him to use the same tactic, but this fight was different. The opponent this time, a young knight by the name of Dunham, was the equal of Ulfric's speed. He landed a few good blows on your master. Just as you began to get concern, Ulfric roared a battle cry and slammed his sword against his breast plate. Dunham was noticeably taken aback by this and Ulfric seized on the advantage. A swift blow to his knee and shoulder gave Ulfric the speed advantage once more. Dunham's fighting style became increasingly erratic as Ulfric continued to land blow after blow. It wasn't long before the young man yielded and, once again, Ulfric was victorious.

"Poor lad" he says, coming off the field "I almost feel sorry for doing that. It's his first melee, nerves got to him" explains Ulfric. You help Ulfric out of his armour and he changes back into his comfortable clothes. Just as you both head back to the campsite, Dunham approaches you both. "Sir Ulfric!" he calls out "I wanted to congratulate you on our last match"

"Sir Dunham! The pleasure was mine. It's not often one gets to induct a brother knight into the melee. You have a lot of potential" replies Ulfric with genuine camaraderie. "I hope I don't meet you next year, I'd still like to win one of these events" he adds.

"I'd heard about your skill, Sir Ulfric, I'm quite surprised you've yet to win" says Dunham, his tone equally genuine. "And who's this fine young lad? Your squire?" he asks.

"This is Eric. He's my attendant." says Ulfric.

"I see. I've yet to acquire a servant of my own." says Dunham "But I hope to find one as diligent as your man here". He flashes you a smile.

You find yourself checking him out. Dunham is younger than Ulfric, probably still in his early 20s. His youth does nothing to undercut his masculinity; his face has strong, square features. His short brown hair is well groomed and his face is shaved smooth, save for his chin which sports a short clipped beard. His physique is a little less developed than Ulfric's, but still magnificent; you make out firm biceps and a broad chest beneath his tunic.

"I wonder, would it be at all possible for me to borrow Eric for a while?" Dunham asks "As I say, I've yet to get a squire of my own and now that I'm out of the tourny, I'd appreciate the help breaking my camp".

Ulfric considers the request for a while. "I suppose I can allow that" he says "Just be sure he's back to me by sun down. I'll need my equipment polished"

"You have my word, Sir Ulfric" says Dunham.

Ulfric nods to you, releasing you to follow Dunham. You're a little taken aback by the request. You felt that you and Ulfric had a relationship, yet here he was passing you off to another knight. Perhaps you had been foolish to read more into the relationship than master and ****. You scold yourself, silently. Ulfric is just being a sportsman. He had just trounced the young knight, this was simply a goodwill gesture, and part of your duties. You calm down a little and obediently step in beside Dunham.

"Right then Eric follow me" says Dunham.