The Lord of Ice and Fire - Chapter 15 - Arya and the Tournament News (Patreon)

Jon's adjustment to his new role as a squire for Ser Barristan in King's Landing was a gradual process that spanned a couple of weeks. In the beginning, he certainly felt as if he was out of his depth, uncertain of what lay ahead. The unfamiliarity of his duties and the expectations placed upon him left him feeling somewhat overwhelmed. However, as the days passed, Jon began to find his footing and grow more comfortable in his role.

Ser Barristan, while undeniably demanding, proved to be no more demanding than Jon's previous mentor, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. This realization brought a sense of relief, as Jon recognized several parallels between his past role as a steward for the Lord Commander and his current position as a squire.

What really set his current situation apart from his past was the opportunity to engage in sword training with members of the Kingsguard. This revelation pleasantly surprised Jon. Initially, he had assumed that his swordsmanship training would occur under the guidance of a master-at-arms within the walls of the Red Keep. However, upon reflection, Jon understood that if they wanted him to become the best, he needed to train with the best. And there could truly be no better mentors for honing his sword skills than Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime, both renowned for their martial prowess and expertise.

On his second day as a squire, Ser Barristan took it upon himself to introduce Jon to the various members of the Kingsguard and the individuals Jon would frequently interact with in his new role. These introductions served as Jon's initiation into the inner workings of the Red Keep's elite.

Following the introductions, Jon was led down to the training yard, where he engaged in duels with Ser Boros Blout and Ser Meryn Trant, both esteemed members of the Kingsguard. To Jon's surprise, and to the evident disappointment of his opponents, he displayed a somewhat higher level of technical skill than either of them. However, the physical advantages they possessed, thanks to their larger builds and longer reach, allowed them to secure victories over Jon more often than not. This revelation left Jon in a state of surprise, however he was torn between deciding what affected him more, his astonishment at his own abilities compared to a couple of the Kingsguard or Ser Barristan's apparent lack of surprise.

As the days passed, Jon couldn't help but notice that Ser Boros Blout and Ser Meryn Trant seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time conversing with the Queen, Cersei Lannister, more than any one else did, save her brother, Ser Jaime. This observation combined with their relative lack of skill compared to their brothers, raised questions in Jon's mind about whether their appointments to the Kingsguard was solely based on their combat skills or if there were ulterior motives at play. Were they chosen by Cersei for reasons beyond their prowess in battle? Though Jon contemplated these possibilities, he wisely refrained from voicing his suspicions aloud; fully aware that such thoughts could have dire consequences for not only himself but his entire family. Instead, he chose to remain quiet, content to simply observe while diligently striving to improve his own skills in his newfound role as a squire.

Exactly two weeks to the day he officially began his duties as squire for Ser Barristan, Jon accomplished a feat that even took him by surprise – he managed to defeat and disarm Ser Boros Blout in less than two minutes during their sparring session. This unexpected turn of events had incensed the anointed knight, who, in a fit of frustration, had subsequently tasked Jon with the unpleasant chore of scrubbing the floors in the White Sword Tower.

As Jon diligently carried out his cleaning duties, he heard the door creak open behind him. He instinctively thought it might be Ser Boros Blout, returning to impose another arduous task. However, to his amazement, it was the voice of the Lord Commander that resonated in the room, calling out to him.

"You are excused, Snow," Ser Barristan commanded. "Go and join your family for a meal."

Jon sprang to his feet, taken aback by both the unexpected intrusion and the Lord Commander's directive. "Are you certain, Ser Barristan?" Jon questioned, his voice tinged with surprise and uncertainty.

"Of course," the knight replied, his head nodding in agreement. "I must admit, I was uncertain about what to expect when the King informed me of my new squire. In the past, appointments to the Kingsguard and their squires were primarily based on merit. A tradition that I've increasingly found to be fading. When the King took me aside and revealed your appointment, I harbored serious concerns, thinking it might be his Hand's doing, leveraging his newfound power to secure your position. However, you have far exceeded all my expectations."

Ser Barristan's words were heartfelt as he continued to express his thoughts. "You're already surpassing several of my fellow brothers when it comes to your skill with a blade, as demonstrated this morning. Although certain aspects of your form still need much refinement and practice, I believe most of these issues will dissipate as you grow into your own body. It's easy to forget that you're just fourteen. Over the past two weeks, I've closely observed your progress. I can honestly say I've rarely seen a squire who works as diligently as you, both in terms of your duties and your commitment to mastering the arts of knighthood."

Ser Barristan's praise continued. "On top of that, I have conversed with the maesters in charge of your education and they tell me your dedication extends to your studies, particularly in topics related to history and wartime strategy. And though you may appear somewhat hesitant around Lord Baelish and Grand Maester Pycelle, your respect towards Lord Varys has not gone unnoticed. You are well on your way to becoming a fine man, Jon Snow."

Jon couldn't help but beam at the unexpected praise. It was a validation of his hard work and commitment, and it filled him with a sense of pride.

"But yes, I am absolutely certain. Go and share a meal with your family," Ser Barristan urged. "I believe it has been several days since you were able to enjoy an evening meal with them due to your responsibilities."

With a warm smile, the knight concluded, "Now be off, before I decide to send you to inspect the Gold Cloak's barracks. I've heard your father was meeting with the King, and if you hurry, you may just catch him."

"As my Lord commands," Jon responded with a respectful inclination of his head. "I will be ready to fulfill my morning tasks before dawn, Ser Barristan."

Ser Barristan acknowledged Jon's commitment with a nod of approval. "Of that, I have no doubt. Have a good night, Jon Snow," he said, and then turned to make his way out of the room, leaving Jon to his duties.

Undeterred by the Lord Commander's departure, Jon chose to complete the section of the floor he had been working on. He had no intention of giving Ser Boros Blout any reason to criticize his efforts, even after receiving the dismissal from Ser Barristan. With diligence, Jon continued to scrub the floors of the White Sword Tower until he was satisfied.

Upon finishing his task, Jon exited the tower at a brisk pace, eager to rejoin his family. He made his way to the room where Ned Stark and his cousins, Bran, Arya, and Sansa, were enjoying a meal together. As Jon entered, their faces lit up with smiles upon seeing him, a warm welcome that filled his heart with a sense of belonging and acceptance.

"Jon! It's great to see you," Bran exclaimed with a bright smile as he recognized the newcomer. "We were just discussing the upcoming tournament for Father," he added excitedly, directing his gaze toward Ned Stark.

Ned nodded in acknowledgment, though his countenance revealed that he hadn't particularly relished the conversation. He then shifted his attention to Jon. "We didn't expect you so soon, Jon. We would've waited if we'd known. Come, sit down, grab a plate, and join us."

Jon offered a nod of gratitude to his uncle. "Aye," he responded. "Ser Barristan dismissed me for the evening and suggested I share dinner with all of you. I would've been here earlier, but I wanted to complete the task I was working on before I left."

Ned shook his head, his tone carrying a note of pride. "No need to apologize, Jon. There's nothing wrong with a strong work ethic and doing your duty." His words conveyed the Stark family's deep appreciation for diligence and responsibility, values he himself held quite dear.

Bran's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he eagerly turned to Jon. "Have you heard about the upcoming tournament? I'm assuming you'll be there, right? Ser Barristan will have to compete, won't he? Ser Bryndyn talked to me about it today, and I'm going to help him during the joust! Can you believe it, Jon? I'll be right in the thick of the action. I can't wait!" Bran's excitement practically bubbled over in his words.

Observing the reactions of his cousins, Sansa and Arya, Jeyne Poole, and Septa Mordaine, Jon couldn't help but assume that Bran had been incessantly discussing the tournament ever since he'd been relieved of his duties. The fervor in the young boy's voice was unmistakable.

Seating himself between Arya and Bran, Jon smiled warmly at the exuberant Bran. "We haven't discussed it yet," he began, "but I'd be surprised if Ser Barristan were to participate. There's an immense amount of work that he's responsible for, and to my understanding, the Lord Commander usually engages in tournaments only under exceptional circumstances. And even then, it's quite rare … no offense, Father," Jon added, directing his gaze toward Ned.

Ned leaned back and chuckled heartily, his deep laughter resonating in the room. "No offense taken, Jon," he reassured, "tournaments are indeed the province of young men. They're meant to offer a chance for individuals to earn honor and recognition, an opportunity to bolster one's standing in times of peace. I would be rather disappointed if Ser Barristan felt the need to prove anything and participate in the tournament. There are more noble uses for the Kingsguard and Ser Barristan’s primary duty is the protection of the King not entertainment for the masses. And quite frankly, there are better ways to spend the money. If I had my say, this entire event would be canceled ..."

Sansa, however, interrupted her father, her voice filled with youthful naïve enthusiasm. "But Father!" she exclaimed, "You wouldn’t! Myrcella and all the young ladies of the court have been talking about how wonderful the upcoming tournament in your honor will be, and it provides an opportunity for their fathers to assess potential matches. And since it's meant to celebrate your new position, we will be granted the seats of honor, won't we?"

In a barely audible murmur, Arya let out a quiet scoff, directing it solely at Jon, who was close enough to catch her disdainful gaze. She cast a sidelong glance at her sister Sansa and muttered, "Of course, they would be interested in that. That's all they care about."

Ned paused appearing to consider his daughter’s plea, his expression softening as he gazed at her, then he inclined his head, initially addressing Sansa before turning his attention to Arya. "Aye, if the tournament is to proceed, you shall have to be present … both of you shall have to be present. It wouldn't be fitting for either myself or my position to have it otherwise," he agreed.

However, Arya, not one to hold back her thoughts, spoke up in a normal tone directed at her father. "I wouldn't want to attend this stupid tournament. If you don't even wish to have it, why should we be forced to go?"

Sansa swiftly pivoted to face her sister, her expression tinged with disapproval. "I believe it will be a most delightful event," she asserted. "And if you choose not to attend, I'm confident that your company shall not be missed. I doubt you'd contribute much of value to the conversations, anyway."

Ned's stern gaze shifted between his daughters as he briefly spoke out in anger, his voice commanding attention. "Enough! Both of you! I thought you had made strides in repairing your relationship during the trip to King's Landing. I expect better from both of you, especially as we are in the public eye of the entire city."

Sansa glanced back and forth between her father and her younger sister. Her expression softened as she addressed Arya, her tone apologetic. "I am sorry, Arya. Father is right. My words were uncalled for."

Jon, who had been taken aback by Sansa's surprising display of empathy, gazed at her in disbelief. He had never anticipated hearing such a statement from her directed towards her sister. He then turned his attention to Arya, who appeared somewhat subdued, her gaze directed toward Ned. She spoke with a touch of reluctance, "I'm sorry, Father, but do we really have to attend?"

With a reluctant nod of his head, Ned replied, "Aye, Arya, your presence is expected, and your absence would indeed be noted. But it doesn't have to be all that bad. Some tournaments can be quite enjoyable." He then turned his attention to his meal, attempting to start eating, hoping to avoid any further discussion regarding the tournament.

Bran, however, couldn't contain his excitement and asked his father another question about the upcoming event, which prompted Ned to look up at his son, smiling in response.

Arya, on the other hand, scoffed lightly before casting her gaze down to her plate, clearly still not thrilled with the prospect of attending the tournament.

Jon, seated nearby, observed Arya's disapproval and leaned closer to her, whispering in a voice only she could hear. "I don't see what the issue is, Arya. I understand that Father allowed you to join Bran's training in the yard back in Winterfell, but it seems you haven't had the chance to do that here. Am I correct?" Jon inquired, hoping to offer a perspective that might appeal to Arya.

Arya met Jon’s gaze with a flicker of anger in her eyes. “It’s true,” she began, her voice carrying her frustration, “ever since I’ve been here, I’m made to attend stupid gossip parties where all the girls do is chatter, or I’m stuck in sewing circles with dumb girls my age. Even classes here are worse. At least with Maester Luwin, I was allowed to attend the same lessons as Bran. But here … all we do is read books that involve maidens being rescued by knights or learn about the houses with eligible sons to marry.”

Jon nodded in empathy, fully aware of how much Arya was struggling to adapt to her new life in King's Landing. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for not being there for her more often. He knew that with both Bran and himself occupied with their respective duties, Arya lacked an outlet where she could express herself in a way she found enjoyable. Offering her a small, understanding smile, he began, "I know you're not looking forward to the ladies' gossiping or the pageantry of the tournament, or especially with the fact that you're being told to attend. However, I must admit, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Arya."

Arya's expression displayed a mix of anger and confusion as she stated at him and questioned, "Why?"

Jon maintained a calm and thoughtful demeanor as he replied, "I understand that I've been preoccupied with my responsibilities as a squire, and we haven't had much time to spend together since we arrived in King's Landing. However, I've noticed that you've become more thoughtful in considering your actions before rushing into things. That's why I'm even more surprised that you're upset about the event, especially considering the lack of opportunities to practice your fighting skills in the yard. Instead of attending the tournament for the Hand for the pageantry, you could go to appreciate the event for its combat. Think of it as an opportunity to observe potential opponents you would not be able to fight, a chance to study their styles, and an occasion to learn from the experience."

Jon's voice conveyed his genuine sympathy for her predicament. "If you can't wield a sword just yet, perhaps you could spend time learning how others think, how they react in various situations. I'm a bit disappointed that you didn't pause to consider viewing this event as a chance to benefit yourself. You never know what might happen at a tournament. It could offer invaluable insights that could serve you well in the future." Jon encouraged.

Arya opened her mouth to reply but then seemed to mull over Jon's words, prompting a small smile and a nod of encouragement from her cousin. As she pondered his words, Jon’s gaze shifted to Ned Stark, who sat nearby.

Jon, eager to provide more motivation for her to attend the tournament, turned to Ned and inquired, "Wasn't it true that your sister attended tournaments, including the one at Harrenhal?" He directed his question toward his uncle.

Ned, caught off guard by the unexpected question, froze for a moment, his eyes widening as he nearly choked on his ale. He paused, briefly staring at Jon with a mixture of surprise and suspicion flickering across his face. However, he swiftly concealed these emotions beneath a mask of seriousness, and after a moment's hesitation, he began to respond, "Aye, she attended tournaments…" His response was measured and hesitant, more so than seemed necessary.

Jon, slightly taken aback by Ned's reaction, raised an inquisitive eyebrow before offering his response. "I was just discussing with Arya that tournaments aren't always dull affairs, and there's entertainment to be found for everyone. And if your sister attended tournaments, there's certainly no reason why Arya couldn't, especially since you've often likened her to her aunt."

Ned, who had been regarding Jon with a contemplative gaze, shifted his attention to Arya’s eager face and mustered a forced smile. "Jon is right, Arya. Lyanna attended tournaments as frequently as Brandon or I did. And without fail, she was much more enthusiastic about them than I ever was," he stated, managing a hollow laugh. "And yes, she did attend the Tournament at Harrenhal ..." Ned paused momentarily, and then, turning back to Jon, he concluded, "... although that might be a conversation for another time."

Ned Stark lowered his gaze to his plate, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. He then lifted his eyes to address everyone at the table. "I apologize, Septa, children," he began, his tone carrying a sense of preoccupation. "It seems I've lost my appetite. I'll catch up with all of you later."

With that, he rose from his seat and began to make his way toward the exit. As he moved behind the rest of the family, Jon couldn't help but overhear Ned mumbling under his breath. His words were hushed, but they carried an air of concern. Jon heard him muttering how he for the sake of the realm he hoped that Arya did not get up to half of what her Aunt Lyanna got up to during her time at the Tournament at Harrenhall.

As Ned left the room, Jon turned his attention back to the table, puzzled by his uncle's cryptic words. He had been on the verge of asking for more details but missed the opportunity as Ned had quickly departed and seemed hesitant to speak more on the matter. Resuming his meal, Jon made several attempts to draw Arya into further conversation, but she appeared preoccupied with his previous words, offering brief and half-hearted responses that made it difficult to sustain a meaningful exchange.

Shifting his attention to Bran, Jon had much more luck engaging him in conversation and they proceeded to spend the rest of the meal talking about the various responsibilities and expectations that rested upon their shoulders in their respective roles as a squire and a page.

Kind Regards,

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