King's and Queen's Rapier Champions, Part One

This year, I won K&Q Rapier Champs.

For those who don't know, this is The Tournament in the East. This year there were over ninety fencers, fighting to be Champion. It's a hell of a thing. I've never before made it out of my pool, but for the past three years, two of the top four were from my pool. The difference this year was that I was one of those two.

But let's not talk about this year yet. Let's talk about last year.

If you're not comfortable with Real-Talk posts, don't read this. It's sincere, and lays things out there in a way that I haven't really done for anyone other than Sorcha.

*****

Last year's K&Q was Rough for me, for complex reasons. You see, people like narratives. So, in the first few years after I moved East, there was a running narrative in my head, based on the order in which things went. Basically, my Don, Thomas of Effingham, would receive an award, then Sorcha would, then I would. Here's the order in which things went:

1. Thomas already had his Award of Arms.
2. Sorcha got her Award of Arms.
3. I got my Award of arms.
4. Thomas was inducted into the Order of the Silver Rapier.
5. Sorcha was inducted into the Order of the Silver Rapier, receiving Thomas's medallion.
6. I was inducted into the Order of the Silver Rapier, receiving Thomas's medallion via Sorcha.
7. Thomas was inducted into the Order of the Perseus.
8. Sorcha was inducted into the Order of the Perseus, receiving Thomas's medallion.
9. I was inducted into the Order of the Perseus, receiving Thomas's medallion via Sorcha.
10. Thomas became Queen's Champion.
11. Sorcha became Queen's Champion under Thyra, who she had fought for previously.
12. And then King's and Queen's Rapier happened.

Last year, Caoilfhionn was the Queen. I adore her. She is fantastic and amazing. I had fought for her on several occasions - while Thomas was her primary rapier fighter, I was her number-two. As well, Thomas would not be able to become Queen's Champion again, because that's not how these things work. I was convinced that if I made it out of my pool, I would get to be her Queen's Champion.

So, I walked into that tournament needing to get out of my pool. Hungry for it. Convinced that the narrative of the day, of my career as a fencer, was on my side.

That day, Thomas wasn't feeling like entering the tournament. I won't go into detail, but I'm pretty sure it was, at least in part, my impassioned plea to him that convinced him to fight that day.

So, we warmed up for the tournament. I warmed up against Wyatt and Edward, two people who I have trouble against, but who I was relatively convinced that I had one "trick" I could use, for each of them, to take at least one pass. At the time, I was much more of a "bag-of-tricks" fencer than I am now. So, thinking about how unlikely it is that in a tournament of 80 people, they would end up in my pool, I used my tricks in warm-ups.

Then the pools were announced. All three of them were in my pool. I lost to the three of them, and only them.

Edward elected not to progress, leaving Thomas and Wyatt as first and second place in our pool. Third place was a tie between myself and Jean-Michel, and I had beaten Jean in the pools. So, if I had not encouraged Thomas to fight, I would have progressed.

Ouch.

I wandered off, over the site.

It was a beautiful day.

I stared at the sea and I cried. It hurt. It hurt so bad. Because I was happy that my friend was doing well, but I couldn't escape the knowledge that, if I hadn't encouraged him at the last minute to fight that day, I would have progressed. I was convinced that I would have been Queen's Champion!

It hurt for a long time.

But my Don, my friend, was still fighting that day.

So, I put on my big-boy pants, and I supported the hell out of him. I supported him the best I could.

In the end, he made it to the finals against another of my friends. He lost to Master Donovan, partly because Donovan, for various reasons, wanted it more that day. I was happy for Thomas, though, because he had fought well and gotten so far. It was a good day for him.

At-the-time-Lord Llewellyn was selected as Queen's Champion. I consoled myself with the knowledge that he would be a better Queen's Champion than I would have been. I chastised myself and told myself that it wouldn't have been the non-question that I, in my hubris, thought it was, that he would have been a better choice than me, even if I had made it into the Sweet 16. Really, the man's the ideal Queen's champion, and all future champs will have a hard time filling the shoes he left.

It was a good day for Thomas. I still don't regret anything I did that day. I made all the right choices, and Thomas left that day feeling good. I was sincerely happy for him.

At the same time, I hurt, but I couldn't show it. Llewellyn probably remembers the gritted teeth through which I called him "Champ" over the first half of his time there. It was even worse because I knew that he was the better man for the job, so I couldn't complain in the slightest.

But still. I had wanted to be Caoilfhionn's champion, like my Don had been before me. I had wanted it so very, very badly.

*****

The reason I talk about this now is because, had things not happened in exactly this way, I would not be King's Champion today. Last year was an object lesson in letting go of regrets. A lesson in letting go of everything.

Walking into the tournament last Saturday, I knew that there was nothing that could happen that would be harder than last year. All of that pain and those conflicting emotions. The joy I felt for Thomas, Llewellyn, and Donovan. The agony I felt about how, if I had just been a worse person and not encouraged Thomas to fight, that could have been me. The shame I felt about even thinking that.

I didn't walk in on Saturday, thinking that it was "my year". I walked in with a clear mind, ready to fight my fight. I walked in, having let absolutely everything go. Having already been through the hardest tournament experience I can imagine.

*****

Here's a link to part two.