Capítulo 9: Afterlife
As Val and Ygritte made their way through the lively streets of Duskendale, the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the aroma of exotic spices. Stalls lined the cobblestone paths, displaying an array of colourful goods, from glistening fruits and vegetables to shimmering fabrics and intricate trinkets.
Val's keen eyes scanned the market, seeking out the best bargains and unique items. She skillfully negotiated with the merchants, using her charm and wit to haggle for fair prices. Ygritte, on the other hand, still struggled to adapt to the intricacies of the local currency. She held up a round coin, examining it with a puzzled expression.
"I tell ya, Val, these coins make no sense even after using them all this time," Ygritte grumbled, shaking her head. "Back in our lands, we trade with furs, weapons, and the like. None of these shiny discs."
Val chuckled, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Well, Ygritte, that's what makes these lands so different and exciting. There's always something new to discover, even in the way they exchange goods."
Ygritte grumbled but followed Val nonetheless, weaving through the crowd as they explored the market's offerings. The air was filled with the melodious sounds of merchants advertising their wares, and the chatter of locals and visitors mingled harmoniously.
They passed by a stall adorned with handcrafted jewellery, glistening with gemstones and delicate metalwork. Val's gaze lingered on a necklace adorned with a pendant shaped like a wolf, reminiscent of her wildling roots. She paused, considering whether to make the purchase.
Ygritte nudged her playfully. "Go on, Val, treat yourself. You deserve something special from this place."
Val smiled, appreciating Ygritte's support. She approached the merchant, engaged in friendly banter, and eventually procured the necklace at a reasonable price. As she fastened it around her neck.
With their purchases in hand, Val and Ygritte continued their exploration of the market. The sunny day cast a golden glow upon the bustling streets, infusing the scene with an air of enchantment.
"I probably shouldn't have got that, we're already running low on funds," Val says aloud as she palms the necklace.
Ygritte pats her on the back comforting her "Don't worry, I'll make that lazy bum join that fighting contest these southerners like having, otherwise I'll sock him in the face" Ygritte jokes drawing a laugh from Val.
They kept walking down the street enjoying the warm weather, they both had on thin clothes as opposed to the thick woollen ones they had grown used to. While Val liked the thin cotton dresses that seemed to be popular among the southern small folk, Ygritte wore breeches and a tunic preferring a style similar to that of a man as it was easier to move in.
"It's still hard to believe a whole different world is across the wall" Val says as she looks at the buildings and the cobbled paths, even the most developed free folk camps couldn't hold a candle to this place and it wasn't even the biggest city in the south.
Ygritte nods her head "I do miss the north but it has been quite the adventure coming down here, though it would be nice to go back"
"We must stay by our husband's side, he saved both of us it's only right we do the same for him" Val says to Ygritte getting a nod and a determined look from her.
They continue walking down the busy street eventually coming to the Inn that they were staying at. Stepping into the inn, Val and Ygritte were immediately engulfed by a lively and bustling atmosphere. Laughter and conversation filled the air, blending with the melodies of lively music playing in the background. The room was adorned with flickering candles, casting a warm and inviting glow over the patrons gathered within.
The inn was abuzz with activity. Groups of travellers shared tales of their adventures, their voices carrying a sense of excitement and camaraderie. The clinking of mugs and the clatter of dishes echoed from the busy bar, where patrons eagerly awaited their refreshments.
Val and Ygritte made their way through the crowd, their eyes scanning the room for open space. They found a table tucked away in a cosy corner, partially shielded from the energetic hubbub. As they settled into their seats, a friendly serving wench approached with a warm smile. she greeted them cheerfully. "What can I get for you today? We have a fine selection of food and drink to satisfy your cravings."
Val glanced at the menu, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. "I'll have a bowl of stew, please, and a pint of ale."
Ygritte nodded in agreement. "Make that two," she chimed in. "And a plate of freshly baked bread if you have any."
The serving wench jotted down their order, her pen gliding across her pad with practised ease. "Excellent choices! Your meals will be out shortly. Also, no one wanted to help bring your companion upstairs so we had to throw him out back after he passed out."
Val and Ygritte exchanged concerned glances as they learned of Jon's condition. With a shared sigh, they picked up their drinks and made their way towards the back of the inn, following the innkeeper's earlier directions. As they stepped outside, the cool midday air greeted them, and the sounds of revelry from inside the inn gradually faded away.
Their footsteps crunched on the ground as they approached the area where the hay was stacked. Sure enough, there lay Jon, passed out and dishevelled, his white tunic stained and his limbs sprawled haphazardly. Val's brow furrowed with worry, and Ygritte let out a small sigh of exasperation.
Gently setting down their drinks, Val knelt beside Jon, reaching out to shake him gently. "Jon, wake up," she called out softly, her voice tinged with concern. But he didn't stir, she tried shaking him again but he did not move.
Ygritte starts to get pissed off and kicks him "Wake up!" Though even then he only groans and turns away. Finally having enough she turns her cup of ale over his face. This instantly wakes him up he looks around in a panic falling off his bed of hay.
Ygritte looks amused at the display while Val just sighs as she helps Jon sit up as he becomes coherent.
"Come on you bum that fighting contest is soon and we need more coin" Ygritte says shaking him.
Jon's head was throbbing he groaned as his eyes cleared up and he saw Ygritte and Val in front of him "Hells, what do you want" he says nursing his headache with his hand.
"The fight is soon, go make coin, you've already drunk enough of it," Ygritte says to him shaking her head.
"Coin? We should still have a couple hundred dragons left" Jon mumbles out confusion evident in his voice.
Val sighs again at her husband's lack of memory "We did until a week ago you bought that whole case of wine from Yi Ti" She says trying to jog his memory.
"And you didn't even share any with us, you drank it all" Ygritte chimes in narrowing her eyes at him.
"We both know you wouldn't have made it passed half a bottle" Jon mumbled drunkenly with a chuckle.
Jon then gets himself up by leaning on the wall, he reaches for Val's cup of ale but she pulls it out of reach "Coin first, get drunk again later" she says before pushing him into a nearby horse trough.
Gasping for air as he flails about much to the amusement of the two girls, he lifts his head above water now fully awake "Gods woman, can't you leave me in peace" Jon groans out.
"If we did that we wouldn't be very good wives now would we," Val said as she and Ygritte headed back to the Inn.
"Leave me to my dreams" Jon whispers out as he lies in the water.
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Excitement surged through Jon as he scanned the surroundings, searching for the person in charge of the melee. Spotting a figure with a clipboard and a commanding presence, he made his way over and approached them confidently. With a determined expression, Jon voiced his intent to participate in the melee.
"I'd like to sign up for the melee," Jon declared, his voice filled with anticipation.
The person handling the event regarded Jon with a keen eye, sizing him up "Well you look strong but you smell quite strongly of ale and a bit of piss, but they don't pay me to care so sign here and go towards the melee ring, be swift it is starting soon"
"I assure you that the ale and piss were not mine" Jon beseeched as he signed the bit of parchment and paid the fee. Though the man still looked at him with a disgusted face.
Jon's heart raced with anticipation as he received instructions on where to gather and prepare for the upcoming competition. He quickly made his way to the designated area, joining the other participants who were eagerly warming up and sharpening their weapons.
As Jon stood by the ring, his eyes inadvertently caught sight of a tall, unusual-looking woman standing nearby. Her towering stature and well-defined muscles stood out amidst the crowd, capturing his attention. However, it was her striking features that truly intrigued him.
Despite her physically imposing appearance, she possessed a delicate and beautiful face. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with a captivating allure, while her short blonde hair framed her features. It was a unique combination of contrasting qualities that fascinated him.
She wore dented blue cobalt armour that looked expensive, from this Jon could tell she was a Lord's daughter or at the very least a wealthy merchant.
As Jon and the tall woman stood amidst the bustling atmosphere of the melee preparations, the air grew heavy with tension. The woman's tall, muscular frame drew both attention and scorn from those around her, including a man who seemed to possess a noble air about him.
With a condescending smirk on his face, the man turned his gaze towards the woman, his voice dripping with disdain. "Ah, look who it is," he sneered, his words laced with mockery. "Brienne the beauty, or so they say. I've heard you've lost your third betrothal. Seems your father might have to sell you to some savage horse lord across the narrow sea at this point"
The man's cruel words cut through the surrounding noise drawing laughs from the other participants.
The woman, her neutral expression faltering, stood tall despite the hurtful remarks. Her sapphire eyes flashed with a mix of defiance and vulnerability, silent defiance against the judgments heaped upon her.
Apologies for the oversight. Here's an amended continuation of the dialogue:
The man, his arrogance momentarily shaken, mustered a smirk and continued his disparaging remarks, his tone dripping with condescension. "Why don't you save yourself the embarrassment, dear Brienne? Participating in the melee is no place for a beast like you. You may have the physique of a brute, but the least you can do is try to be ladylike."
His words hung in the air, eliciting more laughs from the crowd. The crowd shifted their gazes alternating between the man and the woman, waiting to see how she would respond, though she just stood there in silence doing her best to rise above their insults.
Jon sighed in annoyance and took a step closer to the nobleman, his eyes narrowed with resolve. He looked straight into the nobleman's eyes and demanded, "And what might your name be, Ser?"
With a smug grin, the nobleman replied, "I am Ronnet Connington, a name you should remember." He stood taller, his arrogance evident in every fibre of his being.
Jon's response was laced with a touch of defiance as he reached for his belt, producing a small pouch that jingled with the sound of coins. Holding it in front of him, he challenged "I wager 100 dragons that she not only beats you but also any of your friends in the melee."
The crowd, which had been observing the tense exchange, fell into a hushed silence. Murmurs of surprise and intrigue rippled through the onlookers, their attention now fully captivated by the audacious bet that Jon had just proposed.
Ronnet, initially taken aback by Jon's boldness, eyed the pouch of coins and hesitated for a moment. The allure of the wager and the potential humiliation that awaited him if he declined swirled in his mind.
With a flicker of amusement, Ronnet accepted the challenge, his voice tinged with a mix of confidence and arrogance. "Very well. Your wager is accepted. But mark my words, you will soon realize the folly of your bet."
The noble then walks away his friends joining him as they laugh at the easy money they were about to make.
As Ronnet walked off, Jon returned to his original spot, leaning against the side of the ring, still battling the remnants of his hangover. Brienne, the woman who had been the subject of mockery and now the centre of attention, approached him, her eyes curious and her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and gratitude.
"Why did you do that?" Brienne asked, her tone filled with genuine curiosity. "You don't even know me. I could lose, for all, you know."
Jon, his gaze meeting Brienne's, offered a small smile. "True, I don't know you personally," he acknowledged, "but it isn't difficult to tell someone's strength. Your athleticism, your well-muscled physique, and your calloused hands—are all signs that you train hard and have honed your skills. In comparison, Ronnet had the hands of a pampered maiden, soft and delicate."
"You shouldn't let him speak to you in such a way, it's not befitting of a noble" Jon says to her drawing a sigh from her.
"I'm afraid I've grown used to such things, and while they may be hurtful it doesn't make them untrue," Brienne says with resignation in her voice as she stands there hand on her blade.
Jon laughs at this, and it makes Brienne wince as she took it to mean he was laughing at her which was all too common "You're tall and well muscled, your breasts are not very large for your frame however your backside is from all the training I'd imagine. Your face however is feminine, you have high cheekbones and a nice jawline, your lips are thick and have a good colour, and your nose has been broken before but that's hardly noticeable" Jon states causing Briennes eyes to widen comically, she had never heard such a description of herself not even from her father.
Seeing her eyes open wide Jon pounds at them "Those are probably your best feature though, eyes that shine like sapphires, I'm sure if you had grown your hair out and weren't as tall you'd get a lot of suitors, but the south can't handle women who love fighting," Jon says with a shrug.
Briennes's heart was racing, she had never heard words such as these directed at her before, and it made her sceptical especially coming from a man like Jon. Shoulder-length black wavy hair, a strong jaw and high cheekbones with violet eyes, he was the epitome of a handsome man and yet he didn't mock or make fun of her appearance.
'He must be trying to make me feel better' Brienne thinks to herself.
"I thank you for your kind words and wish you luck in the melee," Brienne says to Jon, getting a nod and smile back from him.
"I've looked around and apart from that fat balding guy in the red robe we are the only ones worth mentioning" Jon replies not worried about the competition.
Brienne smiles as she had come to the same conclusion "Then I'll see you in the finals" she says before walking away to get ready.
———————————————————-
With the participants assembled in the ring, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Jon glanced at Ronnet Connington and his friends, their expressions exuding arrogance and confidence, as if victory was already assured. Jon couldn't help but feel a touch of frustration, wishing he had the Yi Ti wine to clear his head fully.
The competitors, donning their armor and wielding their weapons, exuded an aura of determination and readiness. The onlookers, their voices hushed with excitement, eagerly awaited the clash of steel and the test of skill that was about to unfold.
As the melee commenced, Jon found himself standing at the ready, leaning on his axe with a weariness lingering from his lingering hangover. He observed the flurry of activity around him, warriors engaged in intense combat, their weapons clashing and bodies moving with purpose.
Despite his desire for stillness, Jon knew he had to remain vigilant. His eyes scanned the chaos, searching for any opponent who might approach him. He braced himself, ready to spring into action when the time demanded it.
The sounds of battle echoed around him, the shouts and grunts of combatants filling the air. Jon's head throbbed slightly, his body protesting the strain of his previous night's indulgence.
As the melee unfolded, a wave of relief washed over Jon as no immediate threat approached him. He just wanted the mediocre fighters to tire themselves out so he wouldn't have to deal with them.
Amidst the chaos of the melee, Jon's attention was drawn to a particular clash between Brienne and Ronnet Connington. As he watched, his fatigue momentarily forgotten, he witnessed a scene that filled him with a mix of astonishment and admiration.
Brienne, with her unyielding determination and honed skills, seemed to overpower Ronnet at every turn. Whether it was her raw strength or her exceptional technique, she effortlessly bested him in combat. Her strikes were precise and calculated, finding their mark with remarkable accuracy.
Jon's eyes widened as he observed Ronnet, his confident facade crumbling under the relentless assault of Brienne. Ronnet, who had reveled in his arrogance just moments ago, now struggled to defend himself against the sheer force and skill displayed by his opponent.
The crowd, once entertained by the bravado of Ronnet and his companions, now found their attention firmly fixed on the one-sided duel unfolding before them. Whispers of astonishment and admiration rippled through the spectators, their gazes locked on Brienne's remarkable display of prowess.
Jon, too, found himself captivated by the scene. His weariness momentarily forgotten, he marveled at Brienne's unyielding spirit and her martial ability.
As the melee reached its climactic moments, an act of cowardice unfolded before Jon's eyes. One of Ronnet's companions, driven by malice and desperation, attempted to launch a surprise attack from behind Brienne. It was a violation of the unwritten code that discouraged but did not outright ban the use of lethal force in melees.
Gasps of shock and outrage filled the air as the crowd collectively held their breath, their eyes wide with disbelief. Jon's heart raced as he realized the imminent danger that Brienne faced. In that critical moment, instinct kicked in, overpowering his hangover-induced weariness.
Jon's annoyance grew as he witnessed the dishonorable act unfold before him. With a sigh, he knew that the assailants had resorted to such treachery because they couldn't win through fair means. In response, Jon swiftly employed one of the tricks he had mastered with his axe—a unique ability that allowed him to control its sharpness.
With a deft kick, Jon propelled his axe into the air, catching it skillfully in his hand. He had discovered that he could alter the weapon to have a blunted edge. And usually did this during melees to avoid killing people.
Casually, Jon threw the axe with a lazy motion, its speed belying the force behind it. Despite its blunted edge, the axe managed to pierce through the noble's armor, causing him to stagger and fall to the ground.
The crowd gasped in astonishment, their cheers turning into murmurs of awe at Jon's unexpected display of skill and precision. The noble, now humbled and defeated, lay sprawled on the floor, his plans thwarted by Jon.
Brienne's gaze flickered between the fallen noble, who lay on the ground in defeat, and Jon, who had played a crucial role in protecting her. Gratitude and admiration shone in her eyes as she silently conveyed her appreciation to Jon for his intervention.
With renewed determination, Brienne turned her attention back to Ronnet, who, in his desperation, attempted to strike at her once more. But Brienne's reflexes were swift and precise as she deftly parried his attack, her movements fueled by a mixture of skill, pent-up frustration, and a desire to silence his hurtful words.
A surge of righteous anger coursed through Brienne's veins, igniting a ferocity within her that had been held in check for far too long. She unleashed a torrent of relentless strikes, channeling her pent-up emotions into each blow, seeking retribution for the hurtful insults and ridicule she had endured.
Ronnet, overwhelmed and defenseless against Brienne's relentless assault, crumbled beneath the weight of her skill and strength. The sound of bones snapping echoed through the arena as Brienne's blows shattered his limbs, leaving him sprawled helplessly on the floor.
The crowd watched in a mix of shock and awe as Brienne's fury took form, transforming her into an unstoppable force of retribution. As Ronnet lay broken and defeated, Brienne stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion and her sapphire eyes gleaming with a fierce determination.
Jon walks over to the scene going to retrieve his axe, he didn't think a display of magic in the middle of the melee would be welcome so he'd have to retrieve it the old fashioned way.
As Jon moved towards his axe, some of Ronnets other companions closed in on him with swift, aggressive movements. Amidst the chaos, one of them sneered, "No weapon, huh? Looks like you're at a disadvantage."
Jon glanced at his assailant, a wry smile crossing his face. "Disadvantage? Nah, just a chance to even the odds," he retorted, his voice laced with a touch of confidence.
Jon's reflexes kicked into high gear as the attackers launched a coordinated assault. With a deft sidestep, he evaded the first man's strike while simultaneously seizing his arm, leveraging his strength to snap it with a resounding crack. The man cried out in pain.
The second attacker, undeterred by his companion's misfortune, lunged forward with a thrust aimed at Jon's chest. Thinking quickly, Jon used the incapacitated man's weight to his advantage, forcefully pushing him forward. The two assailants collided, their bodies crashing onto the floor with a thud.
As they lay dazed and disoriented, Jon approached them, a smug expression on his face. "I apologize for misleading you about evening the odds," he said in an amused tone.
As Jon's hand closed around the handle of his axe, he felt the weight of it grounding him in the midst of the chaotic aftermath. Yet, his attention was drawn to the bald man who stood before him, emanating an aura of seasoned combat experience. It was clear that this man was no ordinary competitor.
"I am Thoros of Myr, please do excuse me if I don't say much I am still slightly drunk" He states introducing himself, Jon nods in sympathy and understanding.
Thoros locked eyes with Jon, his gaze unwavering. "I'm afraid I'll have to take you out of the competition now, lad," he stated with a hint of amusement. "After all, wine doesn't pay for itself."
Jon's lips curled into a wry smile as he regarded Thoros. The humor in the situation wasn't lost on him. "You're right," he replied, a note of agreement in his voice.
With the arena hushed in anticipation, Jon and Thoros engaged in a fierce display of skill and strength. As Thoros unleashed a diagonal swing with his blade, Jon's reflexes kicked in, parrying the attack with precision.
In a seamless motion, Jon swiftly swung his axe at his side, aiming to deliver a powerful blow. Thoros, realizing he couldn't block the strike, made a split-second decision to dodge. However, what he didn't anticipate was Jon's unexpected move.
With a burst of speed, Jon shoulder-checked Thoros with remarkable force, catching him off guard. The impact sent Thoros sprawling across the ground, his body colliding with the dusty surface of the arena. Jon wasn't using his full strength as he didn't want to hurt the man.
As Thoros rose from the ground, a glimmer of determination shone in his eyes. He reached for his sword, and to Jon's surprise and amusement, he unleashed his signature trick—the ignition of his blade. The metal burst into flame, casting a mesmerizing glow in the dimly lit arena.
Jon couldn't help but chuckle at the spectacle before him. The sight of a flaming sword in the hands of his opponent was both impressive and unexpected. It was a testament to Thoros' skill and showmanship, leaving an indelible mark on the minds of those who witnessed it.
As Thoros unleashed a powerful downward strike with his flaming sword, expecting the heat and intensity of his blade to give him an advantage, Jon skillfully blocked the attack with Winter Weaver. The collision of their weapons caused Thoros' flame to flicker and diminish until it extinguished completely, leaving him momentarily stunned.
Seizing the opportunity, Jon swiftly leaned backward, evading any potential counterattacks from Thoros. The sudden change in momentum caught Thoros off balance, his footing faltering for a split second. Sensing his opponent's vulnerability, Jon seized the moment.
With a well-timed movement, Jon swiftly swung the backhand of his axe, connecting with the side of Thoros' head. The force of the blow sent Thoros sprawling, his consciousness fading as he crumpled to the ground.
Jon looked around and realised that all of the competitors were now down except one. Jon's gaze met Brienne's, and a mutual understanding passed between them. They were the last two standing in the melee, and a sense of respect filled the air. Jon's words carried a tone of admiration as he addressed Brienne.
"Seems it's just us two left, my lady," Jon said, his voice filled with genuine respect. "I must say, I'm glad to have the opportunity to face someone as skilled as you."
Brienne nodded in response, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She adjusted her grip on her weapon, a testament to her readiness for the impending duel.
"The feeling is mutual," she replied, her voice steady and filled with determination. "To fight against a warrior of your caliber is an honor."
Jon's decision to set aside his trusted axe and opt for one of the noble's swords caught Brienne's attention. She observed his actions with a curious expression, her eyes lingering on the exchanged weapons.
"Why the change of weapon" Brienne asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. "Your axe has served you well thus far."
Jon's gaze met hers, a mix of determination and sincerity shining through. He met her question with a faint smile, understanding the significance of their impending duel.
"You deserve my best, Brienne," Jon replied, his voice filled with resolve. "And while my axe has its own strength, I believe my sword skills have yet to surprise you".
The clash between Jon and Brienne intensified as they engaged in a rapid exchange of strikes and parries. Jon's initial thrust was met with Brienne's swift blade, as she skillfully deflected his attack in a seamless semi-circle motion. Her counterattack came in the form of a powerful overhead strike, aimed at Jon's defenses.
However, Jon's agility and quick thinking allowed him to pivot his right foot back, turning his body sideways and effectively redirecting Brienne's strike off course. Seizing the opportunity, he retaliated with a forceful swing of his sword towards Brienne.
To Jon's surprise, Brienne displayed remarkable flexibility for her size, leaning backward to evade his swing. Sensing an opening, he attempted to capitalize on her vulnerable position by delivering a boot to her chest. But Brienne's combat instincts kicked in, and she contorted her body with agility, grabbing hold of Jon's leg and pulling herself towards him.
Caught off guard, Jon found himself momentarily vulnerable as Brienne's clenched fist connected with his face, a solid punch that rattled him. The impact caused him to stumble backward, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected blow.
In a split-second decision, Jon recognized his vulnerable position with Brienne's arm locked around his leg. Drawing upon his agility and resourcefulness, he capitalized on the momentum of the moment. With a burst of strength, Jon propelled himself off his other foot, kicking out forcefully.
The unexpected maneuver launched Jon away from Brienne, creating distance between them. As he sailed through the air, his leg freed from Brienne's grasp, Brienne lost her balance and hit the ground, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in momentum.
Jon landed with a controlled roll, gracefully absorbing the impact and quickly regaining his footing.. The crowd watched in awe as the duel took an unexpected turn, the dynamics shifting in Jon's favour.
With renewed determination, Jon and Brienne sprang back into action, their swords clashing with resounding echoes. The intensity of their swordplay was a sight to behold as they showcased their skill and finesse.
Despite Brienne's valiant efforts, Jon's prowess with the sword began to show, granting him the upper hand in the exchange. His movements were precise, his strikes calculated. In a swift and well-executed maneuver, Jon managed to disarm Brienne, sending her sword flying out of her grasp.
With Brienne now weaponless and Jon's sword pointed at her throat, the duel seemed to reach its climax. The tension in the air was palpable as the crowd held their breath, witnessing this decisive moment.
In a gesture of humility and acknowledgment, Brienne yielded to Jon's superior skill. Her eyes met his, a mix of respect and acceptance shining within them.
With a charming smile Jon looks to Brienne "You were a challenging fight, only few people I've ever met have managed to put up such a fight"
Brienne's heart races a bit at the smile Aimee her way but quickly composes herself "Thank you Ser, you are also a magnificent swordsman I don't think I've ever seen anyone better" she admits looking intensely at him.
With the conclusion of the melee, the Lord of Duskendale, Renfred Rykker, stepped forward to present the victorious Jon with his well-deserved prize. Holding the purse containing 10,000 gold dragons, Lord Renfred extended it toward Jon as a symbol of his triumph.
Jon graciously accepted the purse of gold, feeling the weight of the coins in his hand. However, true to his candid nature, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, expressing his opinion on Lord Renfred's perceived stinginess. His remark drew a chuckle from some onlookers who shared his sentiment, though he maintained a respectful demeanor toward Lord Renfred.
As Brienne turned to walk away, her heart sank at the thought of parting ways with Jon, believing it to be the end of their encounter. However, much to her surprise, she felt a hand gently grasp her shoulder, halting her departure. Turning around, she was met with Jon's mischievous grin and playful words.
"Where are you going?" Jon asked, his voice laced with humor. "Aren't we supposed to have a drink to celebrate my hard-earned victory? You wouldn't want to be labeled a sore loser now, would you?"
Brienne's eyes widened, and a mix of emotions flooded through her. The sight of Jon's familiar face and his invitation to share a drink filled her with a joy she hadn't expected. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered, and a radiant smile bloomed across her features.
Her voice filled with enthusiasm, Brienne replied, "Of course, I wouldn't want to disappoint you. I would be honoured to join you for a drink and celebrate your well-deserved win."
The notion of spending more time with Jon, enjoying each other's company in a more relaxed setting, warmed Brienne's heart.
Jon leads Brienne to the familiar inn where he had been staying during his time in Duskendale. As they entered, the bustling atmosphere enveloped them, and Jon's gaze quickly fell upon Val and Ygritte sitting at a nearby table, enjoying their ale.
With a nod of his head, Jon gestured for Brienne to follow him towards their friends. Val, her blonde hair catching the light, looked up and greeted Jon with a smile. Ygritte, known for her fiery spirit, raised her cup in acknowledgment.
"So did you win or are we going to have to start loaning out that pretty face of yours" Ygritte asked humorously as she took a sip from her drink.
Jon puts on a look of mock outrage "Of course I won, never doubt my skill with a blade" He states confidently.
Val snorts and Ygritte laughs at him "Not so long ago you were passed out drunk in a pile of hay" Val chimes in making Jon sigh.
"Please try not to embarrass me in front of my new friend" Jon says weakly as he signals the Serving wench for a drink.
"I am Brienne of Tarth, Jon here was kind enough to save me from an act of cowardice and I'm grateful he considers me a friend" she says with a radiant smile.
Val and Ygritte both look at her as if they were inspecting her "Did he steal you as well, Jon you still haven't put a baby in either of us yet and you already claimed yourself another woman" Ygritte says shaking her head.
"I'd probably almost of given birth by now if I'd been stolen by someone else" Val says wistfully, they didn't mean this and it was said in jest but both the girls were frustrated Jon had not mated with them yet.
Brienne can't help but blush at the accusations and stays silent, while Jon chuckles "I'm afraid Brienne is too much of a lady to be involved with a scoundrel such as myself" Jon says humorously.
"Aren't you a prince? Val states.
"Ex-prince" he replies.
"Prince?" Brienne asked confusion evident in her voice.
Ygritte and Val look at Jon as if asking for permission to speak, Jon just shrugs "Not like it matters much at this point, most people already know"
He then turns to Brienne his Violet eyes meeting her sapphire ones "My birth name is Daemon Targaryen" Brienne's eyes widen with realisation.
"You're the one who killed the king…" Brienne says in shock, it shocked Westeros when it happened, the Son of Rhaegar Targaryen slaying King Robert Baratheon. Some of the taller tales mentioned how he turned into a dragon and set him on fire.
"It wasn't something that was planned, at the time I had little choice" Jon says with a shrug though his eyes betray how he was actually feeling, Ygritte and Val see this putting their hands on his.
Brienne had a question that was burning through her, most of people in Westeros had the same question and she could not help herself from asking it "If you killed the King how did you receive a pardon" She asks in a low voice.
Val and Ygritte can't help but snicker at Jon's expense as he sighs "The current regent is the Queen after the untimely death of Lord Arryn, she is fond of me and wishes for me to come to Kings Landing but I wouldn't be able to while I was still a criminal so she pardoned me"
Ygritte snorts again in an unladylike manner "Fond of? try bloody obsessed, if this is the reaction of women you stick your prick into I might grow tired of waiting" she says making Val spit up her drink as they laugh.
"Yeah well I'm not going into that snake pit, I'd probably get murdered and she'd stuff me into a pillow to sleep with" Jon says feeling disturbed.
As someone who aspired to the code of a Knight Brienne felt that Kingslaying to be a heinous crime. But when she thought about it more, Jon was exiled and hunted by the King, already declared an enemy, was it really Kingslaying if he wasn't Jon's King. Jon was a kind person that much she knew, so she'd believe him over rumours and what not and if he said he didn't have a choice then it was so.
"Anyway Brienne I hope you can hold your drink because right now we are about to celebrate" Jon says lifting up his cup.
As the night unfolded, the atmosphere in the inn grew livelier and more raucous. Ale flowed freely, and the revelry intensified. Jon, Val, Ygritte, and Brienne found themselves caught up in the spirit of the festivities, singing and laughing together.
Their voices merged in harmonious melodies as they led a rousing song. The crowd joined in, creating a joyous chorus that echoed throughout the inn.
As the night wore on, the drinks kept flowing, and Jon's memory became hazy. Moments faded in and out, laughter and blurry faces blending together. Eventually, his consciousness succumbed to the intoxication, and he blacked out.
When Jon finally regained awareness, he found himself lying in his bed, the events of the previous night a foggy recollection. As he stirred, he noticed the presence of Val, Ygritte, and Brienne, their naked forms beside him.
Checking the sheets he finds there is no blood, Jon sighs in relief, he would bash his head against the wall if he found out he had taken their maidenheads while not being awake. Not that he expected Ygritte and Val to have one, they said they had never lain with another man but the harsh life beyond the wall and all the fighting was unlikely to help keep it in tact, Brienne probably would though. Getting up from the bed he throws on some clothing before heading downstairs.
'Prince to Bastard to Exiled Prince to Adventurer to Drunk, well… at least life can't be sad when you have a cup of ale in your hands' Jon thinks to himself as he sits at a table and signals the barkeep who brings him over a pitcher and a cup.
As he enjoys his meal he realises he is joined by someone at the table he was sitting at. A stout man in a heavy brown robe in roughspun, with cracked, mud-caked boots smelling of sweat. His face is hidden by a cowl, and his hands are drawn up into voluminous sleeves. At first he speaks in a strange low voice.
"Jon snow, or do you prefer Daemon Targaryen" he states, Jon narrows his eyes at him as if inspecting him, he then sniffs the air and smiles.
"If you think that disguise is fooling me you are wrong, now speak clearly or leave me to my drink" Jon states bluntly, disinterested in any games this man wanted to play.
The man's voice turns to a high sharp pitch as he chuckles "What was it that gave me away" he asks curiously.
"You don't smell naturally, your sweat isn't real but induced by some sort of alchemical mix, impressive but not good enough" Jon simply responds as he gulps down his ale and pours himself another.
The man removes the cowl on his face but leaves the hood "I am Varys, I'm sure I need no more introduction nor is it needed, I've come to ask for your assistance"
"I'm not interested, apologises for your long travel" Jon states dismissing him completely. He goes to stand up taking his pitcher of ale with him.
Varys smile only grows wider as if he as a trump card "I have information about the Phoenix Sigil" this manages to stop Jon dead as he sighs and sits back down.
"What do you want" Jon simply says with an emotionless expression.
Varys hands him a scroll "Go to Sunspear and hand this to Doran Martell, They will explain everything to you"
Jon snorts "Sunspear? You want me to get killed before I can do whatever it is you want me to do"
Varys smiles "You survived worse Im sure you can survive this" he then gets up putting his cowl back on as he leaves the Inn.
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Val, Ygritte and Jon were heading to the docks, they left Brienne a note telling her how much fun they had and that they hope to see her again. They did try waking her but she was a heavy sleeper.
Arriving at the docks they made their way to the Princess Lyanna, it had gotten a few upgrades in the last few months, a large ballista was planted on the front of the ship with several smaller ones being placed on the sides and back. They were about to board the ship before they heard running behind them.
The large form of brienne who had a knapsack that she kept her armour in was running to catch up with them.
"Wait!" Brienne shouts out as she gasps for air having ran all the way here.
"Brienne calm yourself we aren't going anywhere yet" Jon says with a smile as he holds her up.
Smiling Brienne does a short bow "I wish to come with you" She says loudly, coming up from the bow she looks Jon in the eyes "I've never had much luck with companions as they were always put off by me for one reason or another, last night was the most fun I've ever had and I don't wish it to end"
"Okay welcome aboard" Jon replies.
Brienne doesn't hear him and continues speaking "I also wish to learn from you as it's rare to find a swordsman so skilled and-" she then realises what he said "Yes?" She says in shock.
"You're pleasant company and good with a sword, you'd make a good companion" Jon says with a smile.
"You might be the first woman I haven't laughed at for being weak and frail" Ygritte adds.
"Come on already we are leaving now" Val says in a hurry as she was a stickler for time.
With a smile on her face she picks her stuff up and heads aboard the ship with the others joining her while Jon unties the ship.
They had just sailed onto the narrow sea and the wind was taking them south towards Dorne, something Jon was nervous about but he had to do it.
Jon sees that he isn't needed much and asks for Val to keep an eye on the wheel while he heads down into the ship.
Brienne looks confused as she sees Jon's solemn face as he heads down the steps of the ship, when he's gone she looks to the others "Is he okay? What is he doing?" Val and Ygritte sigh as they look at each other.
"Coping" they simply say leaving it at that.
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Jon walked to a new room he had constructed on his ship, it wasn't large but it was well built being made of ironwood and the door being made of steel. He unlocks three locks on the door with keys he had around his neck. The door swings open and he steps inside, the air is noticeably colder in here as he sits in a chair.
"Sorry it's been a while, I haven't been able to make it back to the ship" Jon states.
"It's no problem, not like I have anywhere to go" A voice says back.
(AN: so interlude chapter is done and next arc is starting. What happened to Missandei will be explained so don't worry, though it's not very interesting she basically just went back to Naath. But that won't be the last of her. Anyway hope ya enjoyed the chapter)
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