Dorne enters the arena, reveling in the attention on him. He raises both arms in the air and roars, the crowd responding in kind.

Sera's surprised to see the number of supporters he has. Rough looking manservants cheering for him made sense, but to see a few knights roaring for him was shocking. He was actually popular? That psycho?

Squinting to make out the features of the cheering people, she sees the footman that caused trouble for her and the girls when she was helping clean windows. There was also the maid that tried to run her over with a cart, jumping up and down screaming Dorne's name. Looked like all the people who disliked her were on the same page.

The others who reacted otherwise were silent, knights watching with arms crossed, stablehands, butlers and other maids that stood there with grim expressions on their faces.

While Dorne does his best to liven up the crowd as he enters the circle, which flares to life with flames beating back the crowd circling him, Lucien leaps off the platform like an agile panther, striding through the crowd that parts before him like the Red Sea. The crowd roars for him, much louder than it was for Dorne, sounding like one entity that vibrates with the beat of the drums, the soles of Sera's feet trembling at the noise.

Lucien unbuckles his sword belt and sets it on the ground, smirking at Dorne. The message was crystal clear. Lucien was showing everyone that he didn't need a weapon to beat his opponent.

Dorne easily responds to the challenge, grinning with a cheshire cat smile and dropping his sword on the ground, the clanging sound engulfed by the cheers of excitement that echoes across the arena. It would be a good-old fashioned fist-pummeling to the death.

The Red King vs. his wily half-brother. Bets were being placed now in one corner, the stacks of money increasing at a great velocity as more people laid their cash on the line.

Icaros suddenly appears, just like his master, next to Sera, who has a great view of the proceedings from her spot next to Lucien's throne.

His hair is rumples, with bags under his eyes.

"Not good" he mutters under his breath.

Sera quickly looks up at him.

"What's not good?"

Keeping his voice low, Icaros responds.

"New information about Dorne. An Eastern merchant recognized him, said he was known in the East as a traveling mercenary. He's Dorne the Honorless." Icaros presses his lips together, never taking his sight off the two men who both roll up their sleeves, facing each other.

"Who?"

"Dorne the Honorless. A mercenary willing to do anything for a price. They call him honorless because he follows no code of honor like the other mercenaries. He'll kill children, mothers, the elderly, all for a price."

"What's he doing here!" Sera asks, biting her thumb.

"Seems like he's wanted in the East, and somehow made his way here..." Icaros trailed off. The fight was about to start.

The crowd grows silent, as Dorne waves to his supporters to settle down.

"Well brother, " Dorne licks his lips, like a cat that ate the cream.

"I look forward to slitting your throat like cattle, grinding your rings into dust"

He motions slicing a finger across his throat, and points to Sera

"and taking your mistress as my toy." He tosses her a wink and a kiss.

"I'll use her well on the pieces of your rings while you take your last breaths."

That man made Sera sick. He was a foul being, loving every moment of this challenge. He's using everything in his arsenal to tick Lucien off.

No one can see Lucien's face, turned down at the ground.

Slowly, he lifts his face, and the cheering crowd goes silent.

Lucien was angry.

He didn't respond to Dorne's provocations, like his jaw was wired shut. Only his face, smooth as glass, and the burning orbs that were his eyes reflected emotion.

Anyone subjected to that ferocious gaze alone would wither and shrink into a pathetic pulp. It had all the force of the sun, blazingly bright.

Dorne takes a step back, the flames wavering about behind, seeming like they too, were affected by Lucien's anger.

"Dorne better say his prayers."

Icaros spoke. "When King Lucien gets like that, he won't stop until he sees blood."

Shaking off his stupor like a wild dog, Dorne releases a battle cry and charges toward Lucien.

Lucien stoops low, ready, and waits for his prey to come to him.

They collide, Dorne grunting with pain, as Lucien's fist connects with his jaw, head snapping back. He keeps powering forward, trying to get the upper hand by throwing Lucien to the ground by his waist.

Lucien looks like he feels no pain, nimbly dodging Dorne's outstretched arms and kicking him in the butt. That earns him shouts of encouragement, and some drunken laughter from those who've already broken out the alcohol.

"Get him!" they cry from outside the ring.

The drumbeats keep going the entire time. The entire arena begins to stamp their feet in time to the rhythm.

The momentum takes Dorne stumbling dangerously close to the ring of flames, his dark red hair getting singed where the flames reach to devour him. Dorne is no greenhorn though, he knows what he's doing, especially in a dirty fight like this. He jumps up backwards, using the strength of his back, and the crowd goes wild.

Sweeping his leg forward to kick out Lucien's footing, Lucien falls backward, not falling for the ploy. It was obviously part of Dorne's ploy to secure more space for himself, away from the fire.

Doing a feint with his right hand, Dorne goes in with an uppercut with his left, hitting Lucien square in the neck. It was a dirty move. Putting his fists up to guard himself, Lucien stays strong against the barrage of punches that fly his way, gasping for breath. Dorne laughs, like he's already going to win. His punches connect with Lucien's gut, his cheekbone, his ribs, in time with the stomp stomp of feet pounding out a rhythm with the drums. Blood drips down Lucien's brow as a cut opens up on his face.

Sera bites her lip. Lucien needed to catch his breath quickly. Quickly. If he kept being on the defensive for too long, his internal injuries would take him out.

From his defensive posture, Lucien looks up and out over the crowd, directly at Sera.

He winks at her. He. actually. winked. at. her.

'Trust me' his eyes said to her.

He breaks off the gaze, and begins a cold and mechanical counter attack. Each action is sophisticated and calculated. Lucien knew exactly what he was doing, a wild animal going in for the kill.

Boxing both hands over Dorne's ears, he makes Dorne disoriented. Sending a punch to Dorne's gut, which makes him bend over groaning in pain.

For the final touch, his kick is sharp as a knife as it arcs through the air at Dorne, delivering a magnificent roundhouse kick that sends Dorne flying.

Sera can feel the blood rushing in her ears. She couldn't look away. She'd promised Lucien to keep her eyes on him. He was beautiful. Like a fish in water. The battle was his element. His hair looks alive as it glimmers in the firelight, each ring and hoop winking its story. His shirt is wet with sweat, sticking to each curve and corded muscle. The deep breaths he takes as he breathes in and out highlights his thick chest and huge stature. Dorne's blood stains his shirt and pants, like red lilies blooming on the white fabric.

He was the Red King.

Wiping the blood that streams out of the cuts that adorn his face, looking much worse for the wear, Dorne spits his blood at Lucien. It sprays into the air, small droplets falling into Lucien's eyes.