บท 4: Knockout
It was late afternoon when Lord Manderly arrived at Winterfell.
He came with a party of half a dozen men who escorted his wagon. Lord Manderly was much too fat for horseback. It was for this reason that they called him Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse.
The feast was about to start. Everyone was much too busy to receive Lord Manderly. Not that they knew that he was arriving anyway…
"Forgive me, Lord Manderly." Joe apologized, bowing respectfully. Void also bowed in cute unison, "But the raven you received was one I you sent after stealing fathers seal. My name is Joe-."
"I heard you were a hound whisperer. But a raven whisperer? You are something else, Lord Snow." Lord Manderly finished his sentence. "And for what purpose are you sending word to one of Lord Stark's most loyal vassals using his stolen seal?"
The tone of Lord Manderly's voice was not harsh or accusing, as Joe expected. Instead, it had a hint of amusement. And Joe wagered that Lord Manderly was happy to be part of the royal festivities as well. Besides, it was no ordinary raven that flew to White Harbour.
It was a white raven.
"We need to speak, so I had to get your attention. Don't worry. I'll make it up to you. What I'm going to cook you tonight will probably give you an orgasm in your mouth."
"Ahahaha! I bloody well hope so!"
['Phew! Thank goodness Lord Manderly is chill.']
"It will. I promise. Come, get yourself settled and ready to enjoy yourself. We have much to discuss later."
And with that, Joe motioned Lord Mandery's party to a servant who took care of the rest.
***
The sun had almost set, and darkness covered most of the sky.
"Quickly now, sister."
"What's the rush? We're probably late anyway. What difference does it make?
Approaching from the south, Meera and Jojen Reed could make out Winterfell's silhouette in the distance.
"You saw the invitation. I don't want to miss any of this. Hurry, move!"
The brother and sister offspring of House Reed were minding their own business down in The Neck when a peculiar white raven came flying to their roost.
It was a graceful creature—a rare sight by any means. White Ravens were bigger and more intelligent than their Black Raven compatriots, making them much fiercer opponents in the sky against predators. They were usually only seen when the seasons began to change, as the maesters would send them out to every corner of the continent come the measured shift in the air.
The swamps of The Neck were not one to have many visitors. High Lords seldom bothered to come through, and if they did, it was only for the novelty.
Even the ravens had a hard time getting there. House Reed had to have a unique system set up to receive and send messages. Their lands weren't normal by typical means.
And yet, an even more peculiar visitor arrived in this not-so-normal swamp of Westeros. A white raven, its left eye milk white, its right eye black as the bottom of the ocean- deep with the eternal weight of nothingness.
When the white raven visited The Neck's crannogmen, what were the children of Howland Reed supposed to do? Reject the strange invitation? Please..
The Reed siblings were hurrying along when a black mass leapt on the road.
"Stop!" Jojen Reed halted and held his arms out to prevent his sister from going further.
"Gods be good. What is that?" Meera Reed peered at the four-legged creature, reaching for her knife.
"Void! Where the fook are you taking me?!"
To approach was none other than Sensei, huffing and puffing after his wild goose chase.
"There you are, little cunt! What's the big idea? Oh-"
That's when Sensei and the Reed siblings came face to face, with Void in between.
"These friends of yours, little cuntie?" Sensei asked the Shadowcat.
The Reed siblings were as surprised as they were confused.
A large shadow cat. A gruff huntsman-looking fellow with a weirwood bow on his back. A strange relationship between the two. And the events of serendipity which lead the four of them together.
"Not friends. We just met." Jojen Reed said with a smile, "I'm Jojen, and this is my sister Meera. We're-"
"Well met." The hunter interrupted, not one to care for people's backstories. "I can't remember my name. So call me Sensei."
"Are you here for the feast as well, Ser Sensei?" Meera asked.
"That's right. I got an invite from the little shit, and he said he'd cut me off if I missed it. 'This is important!' he writes to me. 'I'll never talk to you ever again if you don't come!'. Something came up on my way through the wood, which delayed me. I was running late as it was, and then this fooker came and started acting strange." Sensei explained, giving Void a good old scratch.
Void was an intelligent Shadowcat who was cerebral with his relationships. Each human had their own way of patting and scratching him. He enjoyed the variety of it all. After a while, Void had missed the way Sensei would scratch him. It was a rough patriarchal sort of scratch but soft enough to portray Sensei's understanding of animals. It was nice to feel this again.
Jojen and Meera had to appreciate the man's strange social composition. They could tell he was a loner of the wild who rarely comes in contact with people.
The Reed siblings had more questions than answers. The little shit? The Shadowcat and the man who oozed with a deadly yet nature-loving aura? They were quickly coming to realize tonight would require some letting go of common expectancy.
Sensei felt a bit strange, watching the awe-struck confused faces of the youths before him. "Well, I suppose now that chance has decided to bring us together, we should get a fookin' move on. Let's cunt around with the questions once our bellies are full and the wine is pouring!"
With that, Sensei led the way. Void nipped at his heels, vying for Sensei's attention and reverting to his younger days spent in the Wolfswood.
The Reed siblings stood still for a moment, their mouths slightly open, processing what the fuck they were looking at. Then, with eye contact between the two, they smiled at each other and followed in toe.
Music and laughter growing louder with each step they take.
***
The kitchens were the busiest Joe had ever seen them.
Gage had to call in the calvary, so many extra hands came to assist.
There was not a single station that had any clear room. Meats and vegetables were constantly being chopped. Dozens of baskets with freshly baked bread were waiting to be distributed. Each fire in the kitchen was in use.
Joe stood at the kitchen pass, channeling Gordan Ramsey, "What's the fucking word on those onions?"
"Just a minute, m'lord!" a kitchen hand replied from across the room.
"How many fucking times do I gotta tell ya? Tonight, you shall call me Chef!"
"Yes, m'lord."
"Yes, what now?!"
"I mean, YES CHEF!"
"Good!"
Joe was in his element. It had been so long since he stood in a busy kitchen. He missed the adrenaline buzz you would get come rush hour. The constant clatter of steel utensils and the smell that would seep into your pores. He forgot how his hands would always have battle scars. There was always some cut that needed healing, some burn that had to be negotiated.
From one glance, Joe could tell which of the extra helpers were usually in the kitchen. He could tell by the ones that needed to take a break and sit down so often. Hospitality workers are constantly on their feet, so it's easy to spot the rookies. Maybe one day, when all this is said and done, Joe will open a restaurant where the workers get around on wheeled chairs. That would be a sight to behold.
It was quite the endeavor, catering for a royal feast. Initially, Gage and Joe were overwhelmed as to where they should start. But after a solid brainstorming session, they devised a good system.
It was so hectic that they needed multiple young lads with strong frames whose only job was to run back and forth from the cellar, fetching barrels of mead.
Barth, the brew master of Winterfell, didn't know what to make of it when Joe came to him some months ago.
["Barth! I need you to quadruple your output! I want to see that cellar packed to the brim!"]
But now that King Robert had come to visit, Barth was highly grateful for the young lord's prophetic foresight. It would have been embarrassing if Winterfell ran dry..
"M'lord- I mean, Chef! You've done plenty enough. I'll take it from here. You go out and enjoy yourself!"
Gage had a look on his face that Joe knew all too well. It appeared that the fast-paced experience had left an impression on Gage. He moved around the kitchen with metamorphic confidence.
Watching Gage stick his chest out and tell him to enjoy himself filled Joe with pride, "If you insist! You are Chef now!"
With Joe gone, Gage took the reins.
"Alright! Where the fook are those onions?!"
"Right her, m'lord!"
"Right here what?!"
"I mean RIGHT HERE CHEF!"
Master Luwin always boasted that Winterfell's great hall could seat 500 people. Joe wagered that amount had to have been exceeded by 100, give or take. The hall was thick with a festive hub of laughter and music in every corner. With King Robert at the center.
Joe had a plate in his hands with a special cheeseburger he made personally, bobbing and weaving through the crowd, taking extra care not to drop it or bump it into someone.
At one of the corners, a spot reserved only for those with no clout, some soldiers of Winterfell's garrison were enjoying themselves, "Joe! Get over here and 'av a drink with us!"
"Yasss! Lord Snowww!"
Joe raised a dismissive brow, "Only one drink?"
Causing an eruption of laughter.
But now was not the time to piss it up with the troops. He navigated his way to where Lord Manderly was seated.
"Thank you for your patience, my lord. Are you ready to become enlightened?" Joe said, balancing the plate in one hand like a world-class waiter.
"The suspense is killing me. Will it really be as tasty as you say?" Lord Manderly's speech was watery. No doubt he was already salivating.
"You be the judge!"
When Joe placed the plate before him, Lord Manderly inspected it gingerly.
"Smells incredible! But uh..,"
"You eat it like this," Joe said, miming the actions of burger eating.
Understood, Lord Manderly licked his lips as he raised the burger to his mouth.
Then he took a bite, and time stood still. The whites of his eyes comically exposed themselves, as if he was a cartoon character whose eyes were popping out. A breathless "!!!" escaped his throat as the meat juices hijacked his taste buds. The chewing accelerated with every bite.
It was a close call. For a moment there, Joe thought Lord Manderly was going to have a heart attack.
"It's good, right!"
Lord Manderly couldn't reply. The tears leaving his eyes were all that needed to be said.
"Bahahahaha! Your face tells me it was worth the long ride to Winterfell! Enjoy, my lord. We'll speak soon."
Joe made for the exit with a comrade pat on Lord Manderly's back.
The outside air was thin and crisp in contrast to the great hall. Joe was wearing a loose-fitting shirt that gave good circulation while working the kitchens. That fashion choice seemed rather silly now that Joe was outside. If Joe weren't buzzing with the party, he'd be freezing his nipples off at this very moment.
"Uncle Benjen!" Joe called, seeing his uncle make for the great hall.
"Joe!" Uncle Benjen replied, the duo embracing in a hug, "Look at you! Your body is as strong as ever!"
"Of course, uncle. Winter is coming. I trust you cunts at the wall haven't been slacking off?"
"Haha, no more than you girls down south."
"Oh, that reminds me," Joe said, searching for a name, "One of your lads, Will, I think his name was? He's here. You can take him back to the wall when you leave."
"Will do. Alright, I better get inside. You know how your father doesn't mix well with feasts."
"Okay. We'll talk later. It's good to see you, uncle. Have fun!"
In the courtyard, Joe spotted his brother Jon talking with a child.
Jon stood stiffly and had a defensive expression on his face. It was clear that his conversation topic with the child was not an enjoyable one. As the child was walking away, Jon searched his mind for a reply.
"What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" he asked accusingly.
The child stopped and scoffed with a sly smile as he turned to answer. But someone beat him to it~
"All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes!"
In came Joe, a merry pep in his step, remembering that this was no child. "I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair. I like that song, don't you, my lord?"
Tyrion was taken aback by the entrance. He fiddled with the wine sack in his hands, a song of the distant past playing in his head, "Yes, quite. And you are?"
"The other bastard. We're twins, you see."
"Ah. I see. Twice the disappointment," Said Tyrion, remembering the whores at Winter Town telling him stories of Winterfell's hound whisperer. "Well met, bastard number two."
"And you, dwarf number one." Joe replied, a cheeky smirk on his face as he extended his hand, "I'm Joe."
"Tyrion." Replied the dwarf as he shook Joe's hand. He could not detect any condescension in Joe's voice. It was more like reverence. Tyrion had to laugh on the inside. The only people who gave him the respect of common decency appeared to be cripples, bastards, and broken things.
"Well met. I've heard many tales about you."
"None good, I imagine," Tyrion said, bracing himself for the rumors.
"I hear that the shit never flowed so good as when you were in charge of the sewers at Casterly Rock."
That was not the answer Tyrion was expecting, "Haha! My reputation precedes me."
Joe motioned for the wine sack in Tyrion's hands. The dwarf complied.
"I take it you're out here preparing for a night with my family?" Joe said, before taking a sip, "Damn, that's some good shit!"
"Yes, you'll forgive me if I need some … liquid motivation." The two were passing the wine sack back and forth.
"Nah, I don't blame you. I'm much the same. It takes a few drinks for me to tolerate Lady Catelyn's cuntness."
This prompted Tyrion to choke on the wine, "Pfftt! Well, *cough*.., consider yourself lucky my father isn't here."
"Yeah, it's a shame he's not here. We were going to feed him extra portions and wait for him to take a shit. That gold could have been our ticket out of here!"
The two laughed it up. Jon stood there, not knowing what to make of it. That's when a voice called out to them.
"What are you fooks laughing about?"
To enter came Sensei and Void. The Reed siblings close behind.
"Sensei! So glad you could make it!"
"You didn't give me any choice!"
Sensei and Joe clasped hands like bros.
"Ah!" Joe said, spying the Reeds, "You must be Meera and Jojen! I'm so glad you accepted my invitation. The name's Joe. If you need anything, just seek me out."
"*You're* the white raven?" asked Jojen, piecing the information together.
"Sometimes, yes. Other times I'm the big black cock."
The joke didn't quite land. The Reed siblings just looked at Joe queerly.
Tyrion and Jon found this amusing and shared a chuckle.
"Anyway!" Joe awkwardly segwayed, "Make yourself at home. I want to hear all about life in The Neck. We'll talk later, yes?"
"You don't have to tell me twice." Sensei said, eager to get amongst the action, "Come along, you two. I'll show the way."
Jojen Reed had many questions he wanted to ask now. He just stood there, refusing to move. It wasn't until his sister took him by the wrist and dragged him along did he get a move on.
The way the Reed siblings looked at Joe like he was some kind of mystery box was not something Joe failed to observe. Jojen was hungry for information. Meera's gaze portrayed a different kind of hunger- a piercing fang, intelligent and capable, like a tiger sizing up its prey.
And it wasn't lost on Meera that Joe was checking her out in a way as equally unsubtle.
With them gone, Joe continued his conversation with Tyrion, "My apologies, where were we?"
"Our cunt families." Tyrion reminded, his words here but his mind distant. He could not take his eyes off the large Shadowcat at Joe's side.
"Where are my manners? Tyrion, this is Void. Don't worry. He won't bite with me around."
"This is your..?-"
"Friend. We've been together since fuck knows. Go on; you can touch him."
Tyrion had never been faced to face with such a monstrous mound of soft black fur. He could see the intelligence in Void's eyes and marveled at how human-like this made the creature seem. It was like Void could understand Tyrion- his wants and needs, his past and present. Yet just like Joe, there was no judgment in Void's eyes.
"Bahahaha! Don't be so star struck, Tyrion. I thought you Lannisters were Lions!"
That's when Joe took in a deep breath. The kind you take when you're mentally readying yourself for a social ordeal. "Right. I think it's time we join the party. Shall we, my lord?"
"Yes, we shall. I've suddenly decided that tonight won't be so bad after all."
"That's what I'm talking about! Hey, while you're with me, I have to ask. Is it true you once brought a jackass and a honeycomb to a brothel?"
"Seven hells! My reputation *does* proceed me. Yes, a funny story actually. It was some years ago when …"
Jon never did hear how that story went. He watched Tyrion and Joe make their way to the great hall. Once gone, he returned to what he was doing before everyone invaded his private time, hacking away at a training dummy for a bit longer.
***
Inside the Great Hall, laughter reverberated like a generic audio track of a crowded tavern.
It was nice to see goofy smiles on faces. The most notable was Ser Rodriks, whose cheeks were flushed with alcohol.
Joe could see it all. Theon made a pass at a servant girl or several. Robb patrolled the hall attending to guests like the promising young lord that he was. Rickon and Bran enjoyed a mug of ale with maester Luwin. Sansa and Jeyne Poole scurried away after Arya flicked some potato on her sister's face. Uncle Benjen and Lord Stark conversed, likely laughing about Ned being at a feast. King Robert was in the middle of it all, cupping a not-so-attractive servant girl's plump ass and peer pressuring everyone to drink alongside him.
There were no empty cups within a 10m radius of the king. He made sure of that.
Queen Cersei and Lady Catelyn were perched on the main table, watching the scene unfold below them.
"It's popping off!" Joe shouted extra loudly so Tyrion could hear from down there, "What do you say, my lord? Shall we have a drink?"
"How about several?"
Joe took the lead, pushing through the crowd. Tyrion was grateful to have someone help him navigate the room. People seldom cared to look down once the wine started messing with their senses.
"Your grace!" Joe called, sitting at King Robert's table, "Save some ale for the rest of us!"
"Joe!" King Robert graciously said, "You've finally decided to have a drink with me. Worried you couldn't keep up?"
"Keep up with you? Please! I could out drink you any time, any day!"
"Hahaha! Is that right? Then let's have it!" King Robert declared, shooing the plump servant girl away and sitting down with the lads.
"You're on! I have the perfect drinking game to settle this. But we'll need more players."
That's when Joe jumped onto the table, "CLEGANE! SENSEI! HODORRRRR!"
He kept shouting, his voice loud enough to be heard. Hodor came immediately. Sensei took his sweet time. It took Joe pointing to King Robert for Sandor Clegane to come over finally.
"Okay pussies! This game is called Knockout, I made it up just now. We each fill our mugs to the brim with ale. At which point, we chink mugs with a 'cheers!' and we all down our drinks. We all count to three when everyone has finished their drinks except one person. That last person has three seconds to finish their drink, or they're knocked out and do not advance to the next round."
Sandor Clegane's drunkenness only served to amplify his nasty bark, "You called me here to play fucking games, boy?" he spat, about to leave the table.
King Robert shot him down, "Nonsense, Clegane! As your king, I order you to play knockout!"
With those words, Sandor Clegane reluctantly eased up.
"Bahaha! Good dog! WOOF WOOF" Joe teased, "Okay, you dumbasses know the rules?"
"Hodor?" Hodor said, confused.
"Don't worry, Hodor. All you need to know is that after we all chink mugs and say 'cheers!' you have to drink as fast as possible."
"It doesn't matter if he understands. I'll be winning that fookin prize!" Sensei declared with vigor.
"There's a prize?" asked Tyrion. No monetary incentive could work for him.
Joe slammed the bottom of his fist on the table, "The prize is ultimate bragging rights! Fuck it, let's just go. Your grace, if you would do the honor?"
At King Robert's motion, they all chinked their mugs and horns of ale.
"Cheers!"
This continued. Two rounds, three rounds, twelve..
It got to the point where the barrel boys had to fetch more stock from out back, and a crowd formed around the table.
"Look at them go!" Robb said, watching the scene alongside Theon and Jon.
Theon couldn't believe his eyes, "Who would have thought Hodor could hold his own?"
"Are you kidding?" Jon said, "Look at the size of him!"
Robb had different concerns, "I'm more interested in the imp. Where is all that ale going?"
At the table, the six contestants were starting to get sloppy.
"Fuck you, Sensei! You always have to be the best at everything!"
"Me? You're one to talk!"
"Hodor?"
The first one to drop was Sandor Clegane in the 16th round. It was clear he was the drunkest when the game began, so no one gave him shit when he was knocked out. A reasonable effort, in truth.
Well, no one gave him shit but the King.
"Hahaha! The hound needs a rest. Someone show him to the kennels!"
Next was Sensei. He ended up puking out a bunch of foam after he tried to beat a three count. It didn't help that the crowd was the one doing the counting, adding that extra layer of peer pressure to drink as fast as you could.
"Aye, yo taxi!" Joe joked, "I knew you wouldn't last, sensei!"
"Err…" groaned Sensei, stumbling out to get some fresh air.
Then there were four.
Joe was trying to hide it, but after two dozen rounds of ale, he was starting to feel badly bloated. But as he looked across to King Robert, he saw a man that could go two dozen more.
['Shit! I'm out of my depth here!']
It was clear to Joe that he had challenged one of Westeros's top .1 percentile of drinkers. He needed to use psychological warfare to throw King Robert off his groove.
"You're slowing down, your grace!"
"Speak for yourself! I'm only getting started!"
['Damn, his mind is solid!']
Tyrion let out an excellent *BUUUURP!*, "You'll have to forgive me. I hadn't eaten yet.."
"Hodor?"
Round 32, Joe is eliminated. He leaned his head back too far as he was chugging. Too drunk to keep balance, he fell back in his chair and made a fool of himself.
"What did I tell you?" King Robert quickly reveled in victory of his battle against Joe.
But he hadn't won the war yet.
At round 36, Tyrion was so drunk that he started calling getting emotional, "Joe! I loved a maid as white as winter, did you know?!"
"You accidental poet, focus on the game!"
"KNOCKOUT!!"
Tyrion had lost the plot, "Oh, hahaha! I lose."
Then there were two.
Hodor and King Robert sat across each other, swaying in their chairs.
"You're good; I'll give you that." Praised King Robert.
"Hodor?"
"GO, HODOR! YOU CAN DO IT!" Cheered Joe.
This spurred Robb and Jon into action, "Winterfell!"
King Robert's court couldn't allow their liege to go without support, "GO FOR IT, MY KING!"
"You can do it, your grace!"
Back and forth they went. How many rounds had it been? Too many to count. This game likely used up over half of the ale in the cellar. And it still didn't look like either man would ease up.
"H-.. Hodor.." Said Hodor, now looking down at his mugs with apprehension.
"Huff… Huff.." King Robert was not much better. It was a miracle he could even bring his cup to his lips without sloshing his drink all over himself.
A miracle indeed.
For on a round that would forever be tallied in the history books as 'Round Unknown', King Robert failed to finish a drink before the end of a three count.
And the simple-minded man named Hodor became Westeros' first ever Knockout champion.
"HE DID IT!" Joe cried, "HE FUCKING DID IT!"
"Hodor! Hodor! Hodor!"
The crowd rejoiced and celebrated his name as if they had just witnessed something truly extraordinary. Some of the Stark banner men were even hugging each other out of happiness.
From up on the main table, Lord Stark watched the scene alongside Queen Cersei, Lady Catelyn, Uncle Benjen and Ser Jaime.
Uncle Benjen laughed with a scoff, "Haha, proper behavior for a royal feast, eh brother?"
"Mmm. His grace and Joe are a bad influence on each other." Lord Stark shook his head, but he failed to hide the impressed tone in his voice.
"…" Lady Catelyn seethed in silence as she glared at Joe, watching him dance on a table with Hodor and Tyrion while the crowd cheered on.
"Our brother somehow finds a way to become more irredeemable." Queen Cersei said seriously.
"You're right. Losing like that is shameful to our house, " joked Ser Jaime, watching for Queen Cersei's angry reaction. Even when angry, he thought she was cute. "But more importantly.. To think someone out-drank our king? They'll be singing songs of this Hodor at every tavern and whorehouse in the seven kingdoms for generations to come."
Lord Stark and Benjen couldn't help but laugh at that.
Back down below, Joe fell off the table. It would have been a nasty collision with the ground was it not that King Robert and others caught him.
"Ahahaha! You alright, lad? You don't need to be put to bed?" King Robert negged.
"Are you kidding? I could shoot an apple off someone's ass right now!" replied Joe after finding his feet.
"Bullshit!"
"I'm serious! Someone, get my bow!"
"You can use mine." Said Sensei. He wore his gear no matter the occasion. Even if it were a royal ball, you would find Sensei in the corner draped in furs and with his bow slung to his back.
"Right on! Now, I'll need a volunteer."
Tyrion stumbled forward. "I'll do it."
They hoisted him up onto the table, and he pulled down his trousers enough to expose his bare ass. It was fortunate Tyrion had the sense not to drop his trousers all the way and show everyone his cock.
It was opportune that Tyrion volunteered, as his smaller ass crack made for an excellent spot to wedge the apple between. The apple was big, and a lot of it was exposed—the perfect target.
King Robert paced back some odd 15 meters, "You shoot from here!"
"Pffffft. Fucking easy!"
Joe notched an arrow and aimed. His vision was triple and spinning. There were too many Tyrion's. Which one's ass does he aim at?
Uncle Benjen started to worry, "Shouldn't we be stopping this? Bad look if Joe shoots the Queen's brother in the ass."
Queen Cersei quickly dismissed the notion, "That shan't be necessary. Besides, you can't stop Robert when he's like this."
She gave them logic that couldn't be argued with. But in truth, Queen Cersei just wanted to see her dwarf brother endangering himself.
And she got her wish.
*PEW!*
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Joe had missed miserably, his arrow nowhere near the apple. Instead, it was firmly lodged in Tyrion's left ass cheek.
"Oh shit! I'm so sorry!" Joe quickly rushed to Tyrion's aid, the crowd laughing so much that they were in tears.
"G-g-g-get it out!"
"Alright, Tyrion, alright! Hold still!" King Robert gripped the end of the arrow, "On three.. One.."
*RIP!* King Robert then yanked the arrow out without warning.
"Owwwwwww!" Tyrion reached for his bloodied ass. Servants quickly came to usher him away for treatment.
"Fuck!" Joe said as he watched Tyrion leave the great hall, "I'm so sorry, dude! I'll make it up to you!"
Luckily for Joe, Tyrion was drunk enough that the pain was bearable and understanding enough to not hold a grudge, "You owe me a drink when I get back!"
Tyrion never did come back. After getting patched up, he would somehow find his way to the kennels and sleep.
"Bahahaha! Quite the archer you are!" King Robert said as he poured Joe another drink.
"I'm the best, really. You should see me when I'm hunting." Joe pretended to drink. There was no way he could fit any more liquid in his stomach.
"Good idea! You'll have to show me around your Wolfswood. We'll leave in the morning!"
Joe couldn't help but be impressed that the king was still up for waking up early and going for a hunt after a night like this. "Fucking oath! We'll catch the biggest boar you've ever seen, cunt!"
The night continued merrily like this, with constant laughing and singing. At one point, they moved the tables to the side, and everyone got to dancing.
The energy was infectious; even Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn got amongst it and shook their hips. It made Queen Cersei wish that her and Jaime's relationship could be out in the open. How nice would it be to drop the queen persona for just one night and let her hair down, dancing with the one she loved?
Watching it all like a wallflower was a slender young woman with curly black hair and brown eyes. Her tulip white complexion complimented her face, which was surprisingly smooth given her circumstances. When you hear the stories about the crannogmen, you never pictured them having beautiful women in their midst.
"May I have this dance?" asked Joe, smiling like an idiot. His black hair was slicked back. The thin layer of sweat among his hair made him look like he had that fresh-out-the-shower thing going on.
Meera Reed scrunched her nose as she gave him a side-way smirk, "Do you even know how to dance?"
"None of us do. We're in the north, for crying out loud!"
One look around Joe and Meera could see the parade of stumbling north men dancing with what seemed like two left feet and making fools of themselves
"Haha, okay.." She said, taking Joe's hand.
As she was lead along, Meera glanced back to her brother Jojen. He had a stupid look on his face as if he was giving fatherly approval. This made Meera's cheeks flush. 'It's not like that!' she tried to signal nonverbally. But this only acted to make Jojen's face get stupider. You had to appreciate their sibling banter.
Once on the dance floor, Meera felt a little sheepish. "How do we do it?"
"Not sure. I think it would be easiest like this~"
Joe took Meera's hands and guided them to his shoulders, "You can take up that real estate like so."
Meera's eyes widened; their faces were close now. Joe didn't mind the smell of her crannogman musk.
"And yours?" she asked.
"How about here?"
Joe ran his hands down Meera's sides and felt womanly curvature through her fur jerkin, finally resting them at her hips. She was over a head shorter than Joe, a tiny slim thing in her lambskin breeches.
It was the classical prom night dance. Joe got them to do this because he thought it would be the easiest way two people could dance together. But whatever awkwardness removed from failing to dance had been overshadowed by this oddly romantic procedure.
But Joe didn't seem to mind, so Meera shrugged it off. "Why are you holding me like that? You don't even know me."
"We're dancing. You don't like it?"
"I didn't say that."
Meera slanted her eyes. It suddenly occurred to her how solid and broad Joe's shoulders were. She tilted her head, gazing into his amber eyes for a moment, "Why did you invite us?"
"Do I need a reason to invite a beautiful woman to my family's feast?"
"You're really not as charming as you think you are."
Joe scoffed with jest. He may have been in the world of Game of Thrones, but his misdirection would need improvement if he were to tango in politics. He couldn't tell Meera he invited them because he saw them on a TV show and thought they'd appreciate a bit of fun before the shit hits the fan.
"I was hoping your father would come." Joe half lied.
"Why?" Meera asked.
"I have reason to believe he has clues about my true identity. But I guess now I'll never know."
"He sends his apologies. Father was almost convinced to come by the white raven, but he decided to send us instead."
['I wanted you to come anyway…']
"I see. That's a shame. Maybe I can come to visit you guys down in The Neck? Not gonna lie, the thought of you all down and dirty in the muddy swamp is kind of appealing."
This prompted Meera to push him away, "Excuse me?"
But that one push got her a good feel of his chest, 'So hard..'
"I'm jokingggg!" he said, reaching for her hips and pulling her closer. "But seriously, I'd like to visit."
Meera did not reject the rearrangement. On the contrary, the way Joe held her made Meera feel womanly. "I'm sure that can be arranged.."
"Go on," Joe said softly in her ear, "Ask your questions."
"Hmm?"
"We may as well get them all out of the way, don't you think?"
Meera wasn't expecting that in the slightest, "Okay? Um-"
"Am I the white raven? Yes."
"So you're a warg?"
"Warg, skinchanger, whatever you call it. Been that way ever since I was little."
"Do you have green dreams?"
"That's complicated. I've seen many future events, but I don't necessarily have dreams like your brother."
"How do you know about us? And Jojen's dreams?"
"I just do."
The game of twenty questions went on for a while. Did any of the stark children have similar abilities? How did Void and Joe become friends? Who was Sensei? What future events did Joe see? Why is your hand slowly reaching for my bosom?
Joe got sick of it after a while. "Okay, that's enough about me. What about you?"
Meera couldn't stop her voice from being an octave higher than usual, "About me?"
"Yeah! I think it's time Meera Reed answers some questions."
"What do you want to know?"
"Do you think I'm attractive?"
"!!!" the question came as a shock. For a second, Meera thought she had misheard. "Excuse me?"
"Not until you answer the question," Joe replied, gripping the fabric of her lambskin breeches. Meera liked the tight feeling this made at her hips.
"Hahaha, I can't believe you. All men are the same. The Greyjoy tried it on earlier also."
"You still haven't answered the question."
Meera thought about it for a moment and enjoyed watching Joe try to hide the pain in waiting for her reply. She decided she would keep him in suspense, "How about we go somewhere quiet, and I'll tell you?"
"Hmmm…" Joe playfully hummed as he pondered a location.
"I know just the place."
ความคิดของผู้สร้าง 
ssyffix
ssyffix Hmmmm, to smut or not to smut? (lol). Thanks for reading and the kind words thus far!
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง