The Warg Lord (ASOIAF)(SI)

[ATP]

Poor acolyte.And,Jon could explain reasons to Maege,she could be trusted.

About his goals - war would come,too many people want it.Jon could only choose winning side and help him/her win quickly.
Voyages - why not? especially,if he is capable of making better ships.
White walkers would come - so,he need to take all wildlings South,or they become wigh.Only Ned could do that - but he needs proofs.
As,for example,still working wight.

 

[LazyWizard]

*Sniff*Sniff*

Olenna, frustrated by their continuous tears, uttered for the umpteenth time, "Enough with the crying already!" Her words seemed as ineffective as a Septa preaching in the bustling market. Rather than calming down, their loud wails had transformed into quiet sobs, as if Olenna was being unkind to them.

Ever since they received the devastating news that their ships, sent to acquire Starkhorses, had been intercepted by Ironborn pirates, Margery and Alerie hadn't ceased crying. The only reason they even found out about it was that one of the young sailors somehow managed to survive by jumping onboard and making it onshore and travelling day and night to bring them the news.

Margery was taking all the blame on herself while Alerie was just making herself miserable while thinking about all the cruel things that the Ironborn could do to her favourite maid, Tara and little Alla who she had raised as her second daughter after she lost her mother at a tender age.

"It's alright, M-Marge," Alerie hiccuped, attempting to remain strong for her daughter. "I believe the Seven will protect them and prevent any harm. I'll light a candle in the Sept day and night, praying for the Warrior to shield them and the Crone to guide them home," she murmured to herself while gently rubbing her daughter's back.

They had all gathered in Olenna's room, which was adorned with delicate floral tapestries that hung from the walls, depicting the vibrant beauty of the surrounding gardens. The air was filled with a soft fragrance of roses, carried in through the open windows that overlook the lush countryside.

Warm sunlight cast a gentle glow on the polished wooden floors and elegant furniture was arranged neatly, with plush armchairs and a comfortable sofa forming a cosy seating area. The cushions and upholstery were decorated in a palette of soft pastel colours, reflecting the grace and femininity of the Tyrell family.

Olenna was sitting regally in a high-backed chair, her piercing eyes looking at Alerie and Margery with faces of sorrow as tears streamed down their cheeks. Young Margery, at the tender age of thirteen, sat on the sofa with her mother, her youthful features marked with grief.

Her brown curls cascade over her shoulders, framing her cherubic face. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and curiosity, are now red and puffy from crying. Her petite frame was trembling with emotion as she clutched a handkerchief tightly in her small hands.

"B-But it's my f-fault that they were hurt..." Little Margery uttered, her voice small and sniffly. "If I hadn't wanted 'it,' nothing would have happened."

"Nonsense," Olenna interjected sharply, preventing Alerie from soothing her daughter's worries. "It is in no way your fault."

"But I—"

"Did you command the attack on their ships?" Olenna questioned before Margery could even respond.

"No," Margery replied, her eyes reddened and her beautiful brown locks dishevelled, devoid of their usual adornments.

"Did you possess prior knowledge of the impending attack?"

"No—"

"Then it is not your fault at all," Olenna stated forcefully, her tone softening somewhat. "Traveling by sea always carries a certain degree of danger, and they simply encountered the misfortune of crossing paths with those accursed pirates."

"But we don't know if they are dead, do we?" a voice suddenly interjected from beside the window, capturing their attention. They all turned to look at Loras, the fourteen-year-old who had arrived half an hour earlier, still dressed in his sweaty training clothes. "We can still save them if we try, can't we?"

Olenna sighed and patiently addressed her youngest grandson, "And how do you propose we save them?"

"We should gather all of our forces and attack them immediately," Loras said waving his hands as if he had a sword and was about to lead an attack on the Ironborn.

"And whom, exactly, would you attack, my dear grandson?" Olenna asked, calmly consuming a piece of cheese from the table before her. Her tone carried a hint of condescension, but Loras was too caught up in his excitement to notice.

"The Ironborn, of course," Loras replied, standing up from his position by the window. He began speaking rapidly, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "We can rally our soldiers, knights, and horses. I'm sure the Redwyne cousins would lend us some of their ships. Then we could swiftly sail to the Iron Islands—"

"Seven Hells! He's becoming more and more like his father," Olenna muttered under her breath. She interrupted her hyperactive grandson and spoke louder, her eyes closed as she massaged her forehead. "As I just asked, who specifically are you planning to attack?"

"Um... the Ironborn," Loras repeated, his confidence wavering upon seeing his grandmother's expression. He sensed he had made a misstep.

"I'm asking you to be specific among the Ironborn," Olenna continued, her piercing gaze fixed upon Loras. "Do you realize that there is an entire kingdom of islands teeming with them? The Greyjoys, the Blacktydes, Botleys, Drumms, Goodbrothers, Greyirons, Harlaws, or any of the dozen others? So, who do you intend to attack?"

"Maybe... the Greyjoys?" Loras replied tentatively, shrinking back at the sight of his grandmother's stern face. Fortunately for him, his sister interjected, lifting her head from their mother's embrace and speaking softly, "You can't do that..."

"And can you explain to him why not, Margaery?" Olenna inquired, her tone significantly calmer than with Loras.

"B-Because that would violate the King's peace," Margaery hesitated at first, her voice growing steadier as she continued, "And we lack any evidence that could justify an attack on a great house to present to the King."

"Finally! Someone in this family possesses some common sense," Olenna exclaimed, her voice filled with exaggerated relief. "I swear, if it were left to you and your father, this family would perish within weeks..." She turned to Loras, who was desperately trying to inch his way out of the room, seeking escape from his formidable grandmother.

An urgent knock resounded from behind the door, prompting Alerie to swiftly say, "Come in!" in an effort to spare her son from further scrutiny by his grandmother.

"My Lady... Hahh... Hahh..." Maester Lomys entered the room, gasping for breath as if he had sprinted all the way from his rookery. He attempted to convey a message but instead doubled over, breathing heavily as if on the verge of collapse.

"Ah, give me the letter," Olenna impatiently interjected, rising from her seat and snatching the letter from the maester's outstretched hand. "We'll all die of old age before you catch your breath," she remarked, opening the letter swiftly.

The maester appeared slightly offended, but Olenna paid him no mind as her eyes scanned the contents of the letter. Her expression transformed from annoyance to surprise, and her eyebrows raised as she finished reading.

"What is it, Mother?" Alerie asked, curiosity brimming in her voice.
Olenna didn't even bother correcting her and said in an impressed tone, "It seems your Gods heard you... They survived,"

"W-Who?" Alerie asked, her breath caught in anticipation.

"Both of them," Olenna said, settling back into her comfortable chair with a groan. "It seems they were miraculously rescued by a Northerner ship from Bear Island. They are currently there."

"Really..." Alerie and Margery exclaimed in unison, their eyes glistening with unshed tears. As Olenna nodded in confirmation, a mixture of relief and joy washed over them. They embraced tightly, their tears finally flowing freely.

"Thank the Seven!" Alerie exclaimed.

"I am so glad!" Margery added, their voices filled with genuine gratitude.

Tara had been Alerie's closest confidante, while Alla had become like a sister to Margery. The news of their survival brought immense relief to both of them.

Amidst their celebration, Loras, who had lingered near the door, spoke up in confusion, "But why would those barbarians save them?"

"Don't call them that," Margery fiercely retorted, and Loras sweated when he saw his sister have the same expression as his grandmother had a minute ago, "They saved Alla, so they must be good people,"

"The more pressing question is," Olenna interjected thoughtfully, "How did they come across them? I wasn't aware that they possessed fleets or ships on this side of the sea." She turned to the maester, who had regained his breath by now.

"No, my lady," the maester responded, shaking his head and adjusting his chain. "There hasn't been any notable naval presence in the North on the western side since Bran the Burner burned his fleet when his father, Bran the Shipwright, disappeared in Sunset Sea. So they should not have any ships available there other than the small fishing ones... at least not the ones capable of going against the Ironborn,"

"Hmm... That does make it intriguing," Olenna mused, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "Perhaps the silent wolf is doing something behind the scenes without anyone being aware..."

"When is she coming here, Grandma? Should we send ships to bring her back? I've heard it's bitterly cold there. What if she falls ill?" Margery anxiously inquired, her questions pouring out one after another.

"No need to worry about sending ships," Olenna reassured them, waving her hand dismissively. "It appears that he intends to bring them home himself."

"That is good news," Alerie remarked, a smile brightening her face.

"That is remarkably generous of him," the maester chimed in unexpectedly. "In fact, I would venture to say that he's being overly generous."

"Who is he?" Margery asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

"Jon Snow," Olenna absentmindedly replied, her attention drifting. "Tara mentioned in her letter that he was the captain of the ship that rescued them, and he's the one who will escort them back."

"He's a bastard," Loras sneered, wrinkling his nose in disgust, "Maybe he's looking for money and he's hoping that we're generous enough to give him a reward,"

"If I'm not mistaken, he is Lord Stark's bastard, conceived during the war," Maester Lomys interjected with a shrug. "Although he would be too young to hold the position of ship captain, so he might be someone else."

"Well, we'll find out when he arrives in approximately..." Olenna glanced at the maester expectantly.

"It should take them around three weeks, considering their departure on the day they sent the letter and favourable winds," the maester confidently estimated.

"Then we shall discover his true identity in three weeks' time," Olenna declared, a hint of anticipation colouring her tone.

Unbeknownst to them, their entire conversation had been heard by an unassuming raven that was sneakily hidden by the window.

...

In his room in Bear Islands, Jon opened his eyes with a deep breath as he adjusted to his own body after being in three bodies for that long for the first time. He had ordered Frost to fly back home which shouldn't take her too long considering her speed.

'That was a very interesting conversation,' Jon thought to himself with a small smile.

He hadn't intended to eavesdrop from the start but when the Maester immediately started running towards the Tyrells after he received the letter he was too curious to stop himself and followed after him. And while it felt somewhat wrong to listen in on someone's private conversation, he was glad he got to see what the Tyrells looked like and what their personalities were in real life and different it was from the books.

A sudden knock on the door interrupted Jon's thoughts. He stood up from his bed, shaking his legs which had fallen asleep from sitting cross-legged, and manoeuvred around his chest filled with luggage. One of his earliest crew members, who was not only the tallest but also one of the most fierce warriors on his ship.

"The ships are ready to take off. We're only waiting for you, Captain,"

"The ships are ready to set sail. We're only waiting for you, Captain," Harold informed him.

"Let's go then," Jon replied, leaving his luggage for Harold to handle. He made his way out of the Mormont castle and headed for the docks. The sight that greeted Jon at the port was truly mesmerizing.

Fifteen ships were docked and loaded, a number that likely set a record in the history of Bear Island. Although it wasn't apparent from the outside, most of the ships were filled to their maximum capacity with Stark horses and other Northern goods like furs and honey. These items could fetch a profitable price in the southern markets.

Jon spotted Maege standing on the port, her gaze fixed on the ships as they prepared to depart. He approached her and stood by her side, asking, "Done saying your farewells to Dacey?"

Maege grunted affirmatively, her eyes still fixed on the ships. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone contemplative. "Don't you think you're taking too many of them at once?"

"Well, it will be our first trip to the Reach," Jon shrugged. "I've heard tales of how everyone there, from farmers to blacksmiths, is prosperous. I don't want to fall short in meeting the demand later on."

"I see," Maege responded, her scepticism evident, as the ships took back their planks after every's ships crew had boarded them except for the biggest one which was Jon's ship.

"And I wanted to take some extra so that we can sell the leftovers at the Lannisport on the way back,"

"Huh..." Maege finally turned to him and asked with a raised eyebrow, "Didn't you say you wanted to limit the number of Starkhorses you sent there for a while because you wanted them to realise the quality difference or something like that,"

"Oh that," Jon said with a smile, "Well I think that they've learned about the quality of our quality so I think that it's finally time to ramp up the supply,"

The "quality difference" Jon referred to was one of the primary reasons he had been cautious about selling Stark horses in the Westerlands. In a world without patents, there was no way to prevent others from copying a successful product, which meant that as soon as something new was invented, imitators would try to capitalize on the profits.

So there are only a few ways that you can safeguard a lucrative product and maintain a competitive edge without getting taken over by copycats, one way would be to go the way of Myr.

The best glass and lenses, and telescopes called Myrish eyes, come from Myr, and lenscrafters from Myr are considered to be without equal in all the world. And one of the main reasons they've been able to do so is that the Masters there have been able to keep their recipes a secret so tight that even the mighty Bravoos with all the money at their disposal hadn't been able to find it.

Alternatively, one could adopt a strategy akin to that of Reach, where complete control over the resources required for the product was maintained. The Reach excelled in producing exceptional wines, largely because they controlled the cultivation of grapes, the essential ingredient.

Jon had chosen the latter path. He had anticipated that people would eventually attempt to replicate his cycles, and he was proven right when, shortly after their introduction in Lannisport, he witnessed several nobles making futile attempts to recreate the product through Frost's eyes.

Knowing this from the beginning, Jon had devised a solution during the years he spent focusing on the creation and improvement of the product. The Stark horses produced in the North utilized a unique type of wheel crafted from a tree known as the offshoot of Ironwood, as well as bark from the Rubber tree. Since both of these resources were primarily found in the North, only they possessed the means to produce such wheels.

Jon patiently waited, and as expected, all those who attempted to manufacture their own Stark horses failed. Their products proved to be inferior—bulky, fragile, and difficult to ride. Thus, Jon could confidently introduce his products to the market, knowing that people would recognize the superiority of the Northern-made ones.

"What are you waiting for, Jon?" Dacey called out from the deck of his ship, waving her hand. "Let's go!"

"Coming!" Jon shouted back, waving in response. He turned to Maege, shaking her hand. "I'll see you in a few weeks or months."

"Yeah, don't get lost at sea," Maege grumbled, rejecting his handshake and opting for a hug instead.

"You know my 'secret.' I'll never get lost at sea," Jon replied with a wink, walking away with a smile.

Jon boarded his ship, and a few minutes later, all the vessels departed one after another from the port, embarking on their longest journey yet.

...

A few hours later just as the sun was about to set and Jon and Dacey were in the midst of discussing their schedule for the upcoming week, Jon suddenly stopped speaking mid-sentence and suddenly said, "It seems we have an unwanted guest abroad,"

"What!—Who?" Dacey asked while looking around vigilantly, they were on the front deck of the ship and all the crew was out there joking, playing games, drinking and passing their time before it got dark.

"Bryan," Jon called out to a nearby young boy, instead of answering Dacey. "Go to our storage room and stand in front of the second barrel to the right. Loudly announce that Jon is calling for you." The young crew member looked at Jon with confusion and bewilderment, as if Jon was speaking a foreign language. However, Jon simply said, "Just do it," without providing any further explanation, and the boy complied.

It wasn't long before he came back with a confused expression on his face and following behind him was a very reluctant Val who seemed to have stolen Dacey's leathers which were a bit big for her.

"That's all, Bryan. You can go now," Jon said, and the boy scurried away, eyeing Val in awe of her beauty. Val, in turn, gave him a fierce look, which promptly scared him off. Jon observed her for a moment before calmly asking, "What are you doing here?"

"How did you find me?" Val sullenly responded, evading his question.

"That's not the main point," Jon replied, while thinking about his favourite rat that was wandering around the ship at all times and was also an excellent scout and guard, "The main point is, what were you even hoping to accomplish by getting on board,"

"I thought I would jump aboard when we pass by the True North," She said gritting her teeth, while looking away angrily at getting caught.

"That's not how sea travel works," Jon explained, massaging his temples. "We are heading in the opposite direction, toward the South."

Val stared at him, mouth agape as if she hadn't considered that before. She closed her mouth and stubbornly retorted, "I don't care, you stole me first so I am going to stay here until you get me home,"

"I didn't steal you—and Stop laughing Dacey!" Jon scolded his best friend, who looked away but couldn't hide her shaking shoulders. Jon then turned his attention back to the problem in front of him,

"We can't turn back now, so you'll have to remain on the ship."

Almost instantly, Val's face lit up at the prospect of embarking on an adventure. However, Jon swiftly extinguished her fantasies. "But if you want to be on this ship, you'll need to work for it."

"What kind of work?" Val asked cautiously.

"Well, we'll start with the basics that all novices go through," Jon declared, an evil smile creeping onto his face.

"And what would that be?"

"Scrubbing the floors, of course."
...

 

[ATP]

Poor Val,but she deserved that.She should knew better,you could not hide from Warg.
And,now Jon could made money,friends,and unfriends/Loras/ there.

P.S He must somehow explain how he knew about ironborn raids - what about spies? idiots would start killing each other !

 

[LazyWizard]

"I see it! I see it!" The little girl's excitement was palpable as she jumped on the ship's deck, pointing towards the group of islands emerging with the dawn. The familiar sight of the Shield Islands, known as the protective barrier of Reach, stirred a mix of emotions within Tara. Overwhelmed with relief, she almost crumbled under its weight. "It's home, isn't it, Tara? Tara!"

"Yes, it is," Tara replied, her voice filled with warmth as she affectionately rubbed Alla's head. With a sweet smile, she repeated, "It is home."

Accusingly, yet playfully, Alla said, "You were wrong, weren't you? You said it would take us three weeks to reach home, but I counted every day, and I know only two weeks have passed."

"Yes, I suppose," Tara replied, forcing a smile as she glanced back at Jon who had swiftly started delivering orders to his crew the moment he had spotted the Islands from afar.

When she had estimated it would take them three weeks for their journey from Bear Islands, she hadn't been too conservative and had considered that the fastest time however, Jon had managed to defy her expectations.

No matter how she pondered it, the distance they had covered in under two weeks seemed absurd. She had witnessed their swiftness on her previous trip, but it still left her dumbfounded. Their ship wasn't particularly special, nor did they employ unique sails or any extraordinary techniques. In fact, considering the amount of cargo they carried, they were slower than her previous voyage. The only explanation she could find was that their ship sailed ceaselessly, day and night, with unwavering confidence in its course. It was akin to traversing a well-established path through a forest, rather than wandering without a clear direction.

Another observation struck her mind—how they rarely made stops at ports along the way, unlike conventional ships. They only made two stops: one at Flint's Finger a few days after the journey began, and then they somehow completely skipped the Iron Islands, only halting at Faircastle, a renowned port in the Westerlands. Moreover, these stops were brief, merely to replenish supplies within a few hours before resuming their voyage.

The weather was another factor to consider. They encountered fierce storms multiple times, which was expected during a sea voyage but somehow someway their captain was always able to bypass them by a long way by either changing their path in advance or by anchoring their ships at a nearby shore just before it hit them and they were able to watch the tempestuous rain and dark clouds receding in the opposite direction from a safe distance.

It was as if he had a set of eyes in heaven that was looking out for him and always telling him about the coming weather in advance. Tara had heard that some of the more veteran old navigators were somehow able to predict a storm about half a day in advance by looking at the clouds with a far eye and feeling the wind. But to avoid them completely was supposed to be impossible.

Lost in her thoughts, Tara was interrupted by Jon's approach. He stood beside her, gazing at the approaching port. "I'll need your assistance for the next part," he stated, nodding towards the harbour.

"W-What, my lord?" Tara inquired, tilting her head in confusion.

"I don't anticipate them easily allowing such a sizable fleet into the Mander," Jon explained, glancing at the ships trailing behind them. "Considering our ships have never ventured into this part of the sea, it would be advantageous to have a familiar face accompany me when we meet the port master, ensuring we aren't mistaken for an undesirable group."

Understanding his concerns, Tara nodded immediately. "Don't worry, my lord. I know the port master here. There won't be any problem."

"Excellent," Jon replied, offering a small smile. He then turned his attention to little Alla and asked, "Are you excited, Alla?"

"Yes! I can't wait to meet Margery," Alla exclaimed, her face lighting up as she bombarded Jon with stories. "She's my best friend, and we always play..."

Tara observed their interaction with a gentle smile before turning her gaze towards the islands ahead. The Sheild Islands, commonly called the Sheilds were one of the most important protection the Reach had against the Ironborn. They were located in the Sunset Sea just west of Highgarden and were charged with always protecting the Mander.

Whenever any sign of longships sporting an IronIslands flag appears, elder in the watchtowers light their beacon fires, which in turn cause the other watch towers to burn their own beacons and spread the warning to the settlement further inland so that they wouldn't be caught unawares.

...

"Would you please slow down, Marge?" Willas called out to his sister with a sigh. But the happy girl flitted from one stall merchant to the next without showing any mercy for her big brother, who was following behind her like a money bag.

Margery was in an exceptionally jubilant mood, a complete turnaround from the sombre expression she had carried a few weeks ago. And that was to be expected since she had received the news that her best friend, whom she had grown up with, had miraculously been rescued by a Northern ship.

Ever since then, she had been coming to the market at the port in Highgarden, sifting through the merchants that passed by every day, hoping to find an appropriate gift for her returning friend. Her sneaking glances at the ships in the port, searching for any Northern vessels, couldn't go unnoticed.

Willas finally caught up to her when she was rummaging through a cloth shop. After quenching his thirst with water from a bag carried by a knight guarding them, he asked his sister in an exasperated tone, "Isn't it too early for you to be this excited? There's still more than a week left until Alla gets home."

"I know that," she replied while pointing at a blue dress for the shopkeeper to show her. "But I want to show them my appreciation and apologize for the suffering they had to go through because of me." Her expression turned sad at the end.

"That is very kind of you, Marge," Willas said with a smile as they left the shop, with another dress now carried by the knight behind them. Seeing his little sister being so mature filled him with pride that only an older brother could understand.

As they passed through an intersection, a loud shriek of "Margery" came from nearby. Before Margery could even turn around, she was suddenly hit by a small body with a head full of brown hair, similar to her own. Before she could make sense of the situation, the person started crying while hugging her tightly. "I missed you so much, Margery... Waah..."

"Alla! Is that you, Alla?" Margery exclaimed in astonishment, which immediately stopped Willas and the knight who were about to intervene. "It's really you!" she said and started hugging the little girl tightly as her shock turned to jubilance. The girls started jumping round and round, laughing and crying tears of happiness.

"Alla, where did you come from?" Willas was about to ask her to make sense of the situation when a few more people joined them. "Tara!"

"Lord Willas," she courtesied professionally, but she couldn't hide the joyful tears in her eyes. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you, My Lord."

"I am happy to see you too, Tara," Willas said, wanting to embrace the woman who had raised him along with his mother as her maid. Instead, he settled for squeezing her shoulder warmly before asking her in confusion,

"But I thought it would take you a while to get here. How did you get here so fast?"

"Maybe the gods wanted them to reach their homes sooner since we had good weather all the way," said a man who had been standing just behind Tara, accompanied by a tall woman. The woman looked at home in her leathers, with a small Morningstar at her waist. The man was handsome enough, with curly hair and grey eyes that gave him an air of elegance despite wearing simple black clothes.

"You are..."

Tara immediately came forward and introduced them, "This is Jon Snow, the natural-born son of Lord Stark, and," she turned her hand towards the other person, "this is Dacey Mormont, the daughter of Maege Mormont, Lady of Bear Island."

"Ah... Jon Snow," Willas exclaimed, shaking Jon's hand. "Tara wrote about you in her letter. I must admit, you look a lot older than your actual age."

"I get that a lot, my lord."

"Call me Willas," he said with a gentle smile. "Not only did you save people who are precious to House Tyrell, but you also went to great lengths to get them home safely. House Tyrell is in your debt, Jon."

"You're too kind, my lord," Jon said, waving away the gratitude with a small smile. "I just did what any good man would have done in my place—"

"Then there are too few good men in Westeros, Ser," Margery suddenly inserted herself, giving Jon a blinding smile. "I am Margery Tyrell, Ser Jon."

She raised her hand toward Jon, who took it with perfect courtesy and kissed the back of her hand gently before saying, "I had heard a lot about your beauty from little Alla, but I must say she was wrong about it." Margery tilted her head in confusion before Jon continued with a grin, "You're even more beautiful than she said."

"Thank you, Ser," Margery said with a sweet smile and a cute blush, while little Alla jumped in with a cheeky smile and said, "I told you she was pretty."

"Call me Jon, since I am not a knight."

While Jon was getting acquainted with Margery, Tara was introducing Willas to Dacey. Willas suddenly turned to them and said in a formal tone, tapping his cane, "Jon, Lady Mormont, I would love to host you at our castle of Highgarden so that we can properly bestow upon you the courtesy you deserve and honour you for the service you have rendered to House Tyrell."

They exchanged glances with each other before Jon said with a troubled smile, "There is no need to go through so much trouble for us, my lord. We have already booked a good inn recommended by Tara." He continued quickly when he saw Willas about to counter him, "And besides, we are here on a business trip, so it would be more convenient for us to stay near the port."

"That would not do," Willas shook his head firmly. "It would be a disgrace as a Tyrell if we didn't properly repay you for all you've done."

Eddard had only asked a single thing of him on this trip and that was to stay away from Olenna Tyrell as much as he could and Jon didn't want to take the risk of going into the one place where he was sure to run into her, so he worked his mind and an idea quickly came to him that would make things a lot easier and quicker for him.

"You're giving us too much credit, but... if you insist on helping us, my lord, then there is one thing I could use your help with."

"Go on," Willas said, intrigued by what Jon was about to ask.

"I don't know if you've heard about it, but there is a special product from the North called Starkhorse..."

....

"Ladies and Gentleman of the reach, behold... THE STARKHORSE!!!"

The man's voice boomed with enthusiasm and excitement as he unveiled the product placed on the temporary platform in the middle of the busy street. The crowd erupted in awe and anticipation, captivated by the man's animated delivery as he skilfully heated the atmosphere with his excited voice, "This is an invention that is going to make your life countless times easier, it is going to save you so much time that it would feel like you got a second life..."

The man went on and on about the Starkhorse as if it was the god's gift and was the most wonderful invention after bread. He also talked about all the usual uses for the Starkhorse that he had perfected in the North, of course, he had tailored that marketing gimmick a little bit to suit the taste of the people of Reach according to his boss's instruction.

"And mark my words, my friends, the Reach will embrace the Starkhorse even more passionately than any other region in Westeros. Why, you may ask?" The man leaned in, building suspense, and the crowd eagerly shook their heads in anticipation. "Because the Reach boasts the finest roads in the entire realm, does it not?"

"Yes!" The crowd erupted in agreement, their voices blending into a resounding chorus.

"Now, for those eager to secure this marvel before supplies run out," the man announced, running his hands affectionately over the sleek wood of the Starkhorse, "Come forward swiftly, for our stock is limited, and who knows how long it will last!"

The crowd surged towards the tables and chairs positioned behind the platform, where Jon's crew awaited to take orders. The product was not placed here to save on the cost of renting a space but instead, the people who paid would get a token when they paid the total price after which they had to go to the docks to get their product which also saved Jon the cost of Transportation.

Above the bustling street, on the second floor of an inn, Jon and Willas watched the spectacle unfold from a spacious room with two windows, "I must say, you have quite a capable subordinate down there, " Willas said with an impressed tone, "Where did you even find him,"

"In a bar," Jon said with a shrug, he continued when he saw Willas look confused, "He was a singer in a bar but sadly he had no talent at singing but he was able to make ends meet somehow, Can you guess how?"

"No,"

"It's because he was funny and was a good storyteller," Jon said with a reminiscing smile, "His stories sometimes left them laughing their ass off and other times had them completely hooked, so they often forgot about his bad singing and tipped him generously. I immediately recognised his skill when I saw him for the first time so I persuaded him to use his talents elsewhere,"

"I must say, it's been quite some time since I've been this impressed with someone," Willas said while patting Jon's shoulder like an older brother.

"I am quite happy to hear that," Jon had taken a liking to the older man, he had an aura of intelligence about him and more importantly he was a good man, which was far too rare in this world, "I just hope that they can be impressed just as much," Jon said while looking at the people gathered around the other window.

On the left window of the room was a group of about ten people, three women and seven men, whispering amongst themselves while looking at the show below them intensely.

Even though none of them were of noble descent, it would be easy for people to distinguish them from common smallfolk, because every single one of them was wearing clothes and jewellery that just screamed wealth. They were the favour that he had asked from the Tyrell beside him and he had done a wonderful job of it by bringing most of the top merchants available in the area into a room in just a few days.

"So tell me, Miss Violet, did that—" Jon suddenly spoke while waving his hands towards the window, breaking the group from their discussions, "Assauge all your fears about them not selling as easily in the Reach,"

"Hehe..." The woman gave him what she thought was a coquettish smile and said, "I hope you don't take offence, My lord but as a woman in this business I need to be cautious about all my investments,"

"Of course," Jon nodded nonchalantly, the middle-aged woman was a ruthless brothel owner that had already used the gender card more than three times in the hour that he had known her so he knew better than to take anything she said at face value.

These people had been given the same speech that Bill had given to the crowd below, it's just that Jon's presentation had been a lot more subtle and sophisticated but since they were both written by him, the essence was the same. He too praised the Reach between his words softening them, as well as embellishing his products to high heavens with words like it would reduce the time of travelling by five times to reach the same destination as
well as it being ten times cheaper than a normal horse in the long run over the years considering the feed and care.

Basically, he had used all the marketing gimmicks he could think of from the modern world with all kinds of Bogus facts and calculations that they couldn't hope to verify even with a team of the brightest Maesters from Citadel.

But of course, it wouldn't be as easy as it was for his friend Bill down there since his audience was a lot shrewder and cunning than Bill's. They were all experienced merchants who wouldn't get carried away to buy things at their face value. So the moment Jon had finished his pitch all of them started taking turns in yanking the Starkhorse down, listing one disadvantage after the other in hopes of pulling the value down.

But Jon had decided from the beginning that he would be selling these here at ten times the price he sold them in the North. And the reason was simply that they could afford it.

Considering the technology in this world, one of the easiest ways to become rich would be either to sit on a gold mine or to have a lot of good farmlands. And while the Westerlands may have a lot of rich nobles, the
Smallfolks in Reach were a lot more wealthy than the ones in other kingdoms, so Jon wouldn't shy away from leeching them as much as he could.

So Jon had immediately taken these merchants to the window to show them a live demonstration of how popular his product could be and how easy it would be to sell them and make quick money. And he could see it in their faces that most of them were already sold on the idea.

"So are you all ready to place your orders?" Jon asked, breaking the silence and bringing their attention back to the matter at hand.

The oldest-looking man among the merchants calmly spoke up, addressing Jon, "My lord, the people down there were just caught in the excitement of seeing a new thing. I am sure that after they go home, most of them will realize that they spent a lot more than they intended and may come to regret buying it. So it would be hard to sell them at the price you're quoting after the furore dies down."

"Yes, My lord," Another one piped up immediately after, "Most of them would go back to preferring a normal horse,"

"It'll be hard for us to sell them unless you make it a bit more affordable,"

Jon knew that they just needed the last push before they bent completely so he looked out of the window and said, "Do you know what the best thing about Starkhorse is?"

"You already told us a lot of its advantages, My lord. I don't think another would make any difference—"

"Do you know who that person by the fountain is?"

All of them looked at the fountain in confusion to see a couple of kids jumping around while a girl rode the very product that was the topic of their discussion. A relatively younger female merchant who mainly dealt in clothes suddenly exclaimed, "Isn't that lady Margery?"

"You're right," Jon nodded with a smile, "She is indeed the famous Rose of the Reach. And do you know when she got that Starkhorse," Jon continued before anyone of them could answer, "Just this morning and she's already riding it quite skillfully, so what I am trying to say is that, anyone can learn to ride, from a ten-year-old commoner child to fifty-year-old farmer anyone can learn it in a few hours... Can you say the same for a normal horse?"

The scepticism in the room slowly transformed into greed as they envisioned the wide customer base they would have to sell their product to. The oldest merchant, who had been the most hesitant, finally stood up and said,
"I would like to place an order of 150 Starkhorses."

His decision caught the rest of the merchants off guard, and they looked at him with a mix of surprise and betrayal. It was easy to deduce from their expression that they had some kind of an agreement between them to not buy at all until he budged on the prices. However, a single crack in their united front shattered their strategy.

Jon swiftly took out a small notebook from his pocket and noted down the man's name, while the merchant paid the down payment. "I'll make sure you can gather your order from the ships at the port at any time."

It didn't take long for the second one to stand up, "I concede to you, My lord," Miss Violet said ruefully, "I think it would be the first time in my life that I am buying something without negotiating a lower price," she thought for a
moment before saying with a smile, "I'll take 200 of those if it pleases you,"

And like a domino, the rest of them started to fall in line one after the other and started shouting over each other to get their order first.

"I'll take 120,"

"I'll take 100,"

"Me 80,"

...

Finally, the last one of them, who was also the most hesitant, stood up, "I-I'll take fifty,"

"Ah, I am very sorry to say that you were too late, my friend," Jon apologized, causing the man's face to fall with regret. The other merchants beside him shamelessly gloated at his misfortune. "But don't worry too much, as it won't be too long before we arrive back with the next shipment. You need to be prepared for the next time."

After paying their down payments, the merchants quickly left the room, eager to get home and gather the rest of the money. They were aware of the advantage of being the first in the market with such an innovative product.

Only Jon, Willas, and the old merchant remained in the room. Jon put his notebook back in his breast pocket and smiled at the old man. "You did a very good job, Gary."

"I was just holding my end of the bargain, Milord."

"Don't worry," Jon reassured him, patting his shoulders. "You'll have a ten per cent discount on the market price with me."

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Milord," the old merchant said, leaving the room with a skip in his steps.

"That was very smart of you," Willas said after they were alone in the room, "Buying an insider from the beginning. I think that alone earned you quite a few dragons,"

"It's just a trick I learned from my merchant friend," Jon replied modestly. "But I wouldn't have been able to do that if you didn't introduce me to—"

Before Jon could finish, the door abruptly swung open, and Dacey rushed in with an excited look on her face. "Jon, I saw them leaving—Ah I didn't see you, My Lord,"

"I was just leaving, Lady Mormont," Willas nodded politely and said to Jon with a satisfied sigh, "That was one of the most entertaining hours of my life, Jon. Thank you for that."

"I should be thanking you, my lord, for all the help you provided," Jon replied gratefully.

Willas waved away his gratitude and left the room with a nod to Dacey. Once alone, Dacey couldn't contain her excitement and leapt in front of Jon, asking breathlessly, "So?"

Jon decided to play along for a moment, hiding a smile. "So what?"

"Don't fuck with me here, Jon," Dacey said, "I am dying from suspense here, how much did we make?"

Jon rolled his eyes but he didn't keep her in agony for long and whispered the amount with a smug smile, "We made...10,000"

"HOW MUCH?!!"

"10,000 Dragons"

///

to read ahead: patreon.com/lazywizard

 

[Monmonstar]

First

 

[ATP]

Mormonts - no longer paupers.
I bet,that Dacey start seriously think about Jon Snow as husband.Not bad choice,if you ask me.

 

[Lonely_Samurai]

Love this

 

[LazyWizard]

Jon squinted as he stared at the scorching mid-day sun bearing down on his head. He cursed under his breath, determined to manoeuvre through the bustling crowd at the port near Highgarden as swiftly as possible. Rising early that morning, he had concluded his business and was now making his way back to the docks where his crew was likely still unloading Starkhorses.

'Seven Hells! I'd give anything for a little Northern snow right now,' he mused, sweat dripping profusely from his forehead. Having spent most of his new life in the North, his body had grown accustomed to the biting cold winds, making even the mild heat of the Reach unbearable. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like if he ever went to the dunes of Dorne, just the thought of it sent a shiver down his spine.

Finally catching sight of his two ships docked at the port, Jon's body sagged with relief. He didn't want to pay too much to the port master as dock fees so he didn't have all of his ships docked at the same time instead he had only his main ship docked at all times while the other ships took turns unloading their cargo before they went a bit away from the port to anchor themselves.

In the shade of his ship, Jon spotted Brian, one of the few literate members of his crew, diligently taking notes as workers unloaded Starkhorses onto a waiting wagon.

"Brian! How's it going?" Jon greeted him, joining him in the shade and letting out a sigh of relief. "Everything going smoothly with the deliveries?"

"Yes, Captain," Brian nodded while giving him a smile of sympathy at seeing him drenched in sweat. He gave the wooden slate on which he was taking notes to Jon and said, "This is the last ship being unloaded at the moment. Once it's finished, all our orders will be completed, and the ships will be empty."

"Hmm..." Jon nodded, quickly reviewing the entries on the slate before asking, "No issues with the remaining payments, I hope?"

"No, not at all," Brian shook his head before snorting. "In fact, they were practically fighting each other to be the first ones to pay, just to get their orders sooner. It was quite amusing, witnessing people so eager to part with their money."

"Get used to it, my friend. You'll be seeing more of that in the future," Jon reassured him, patting Brian's shoulder with a confident smile. Returning the slate, Jon glanced around and noticed someone missing, "By the way, Where's Dacey?"

Brian's face suddenly grew uncomfortable, and he pointed silently towards the main ship, avoiding eye contact.

"What's wrong?" Jon inquired.

"It's a bit difficult to explain," Brian shrugged, forcing a smile. "You'll have to see for yourself."

Puzzled by Brian's strange expression, Jon shook his head and headed towards the main ship, where most of his crew resided and kept watch.

Ascending the plank that connected to his ship, Jon exchanged greetings with two crew members on guard duty. When he inquired about Dacey's whereabouts, both of them gestured towards the captain's quarters, wearing the same odd expression as Brian.

Growing increasingly concerned, Jon realized that he hadn't seen Dacey since the meeting with the merchants. His early mornings and late nights, driven by an important task, had kept him away from her. He wondered if his
vice-captain had fallen ill after indulging in the spiced food and sweet wines of the southern region.

He found Dacey seated on a small stool outside the captain's room, her back turned towards him. Immediately, he sensed that something was amiss. She was whispering to herself, nodding her head as if possessed,
reminiscent of characters from the horror movies of his past world.

Aware of the existence of dark magic in this realm, such as Melisandre's sorcery, Jon felt a twinge of fear. Steeling himself, he cautiously approached Dacey and called out to her in a soft voice, "D-Dacey, are you alright?"
She appeared oblivious to his presence, prompting him to inch closer and touch her shoulder, gently attempting to turn her around. "Dacey, what's wrong—Oh, damn it! Shit! By the Seven Hells!"

In an instant, Jon stumbled backwards in fright as soon as he saw her face.

"Huh... Jon, when did you get back?" she asked, wearing a confused expression.

"Damn it! Dacey, what the hell happened to your face?" Jon exclaimed, his hand on his chest as he tried to calm himself.

"Hmm?" She tilted her head, puzzled by his reaction, and absentmindedly touched her face. The reason for Jon's alarm became clear—she had dark circles under her eyes the size of dumplings making her look like a panda
while her eyes were sporting more red than white and her hair was in complete disarray, all in all, she looked scary enough to give even Tywin Lannister a heart attack.

Dacey suddenly widened as she realised Jon was in front of her and she immediately pounced on him and started speaking in a rapid, frantic manner, "Jon! you're finally here! Where were you? Do you know how worried I
was?"

"Worried about what," Jon asked her while taking her hands from her shoulder and standing up. He was a bit embarrassed about getting scared by something so silly, thankfully no one else saw him fumbling or else his
reputation would go down the drain.

"The MONEY! Of course!" she shouted, her eyes wide with madness. "I can't sleep! I can't eat! I can't drink! I can't do anything! Every time I blink, all I can think about is the TEN THOUSAND dragons in that room. How can
you just leave it like that? Do you know how much money that is? Do you?"

"I think I do," Jon said with an amused smile, he finally understood the gist of the situation and why everyone was acting so weird, it seems that their vice-captain had gone a bit crazy from seeing so much gold for the first
time in her life.

"No, you don't! Do you know that it is more money than the whole of Bear Island earns in a couple of years? Years!" She began pacing frantically in front of him, "I keep thinking that someone's going to steal it or worse I'll
open my eyes and find that it was all a dream or the ship could somehow sink and then we'll have to dive down to get it back or—"

"Dacey! DACEY!" Jon seized her shoulders and shook her vigorously. "Calm down."

"Calm down? How can I possibly calm down?" She trembled, her voice filled with anxiety. "What if... What if... and you weren't here... and... Waaahhh!" Suddenly, she burst into tears, sobbing like a child.

Jon enveloped her in a comforting embrace, rubbing her back gently. "Shh... it's alright now. No one is going to steal it," he said as soothingly as he could before he pointed towards the door, "Look! I left one of my best
friends here." Gan, the little mouse, darted through the gap under the door and scurried towards them. "He has been guarding our gold at all times. If anyone tried to steal it, he would have alerted me immediately."

Dacey sniffled, her tears subsiding. "That's good, then," she muttered absentmindedly. After a moment, she added, "I think Mother will have a heart attack when she sees the money we made on this trip. Haha..."

Jon's expression turned slightly sheepish, and he coughed. "Ah... about that. I don't think she'll be able to see it for a while..."

"What! Why?"

"Hmm..." Jon thought for a few moments before he asked her, "What do think the Reach has in abundance that the North doesn't have?"

"Money! Lots and lots of money... Hehe..."

Jon rolled his eyes with a smile before he said, "Think again,"

"Umm... Is it food,"

"Exactly," Jon nodded enthusiastically, "

It's the peak of summer right now, and almost everyone in Reach had a wonderful harvest, every single farm is producing more crops than they know what to do with so are at their lowest. If we can grab onto this opportunity
then it would be a great boon for our home,"

The year was 294 AC which meant that summer had barely even started and it was supposed to be the longest summer in living history, there were 7 more years to go till 300 AC when winter arrives. So if they are able to
regularly supply the North with cheap corps from the Reach it would completely change the picture, it would be similar to the Green Revolution in his previous world.

And the most important part is that it would prepare the North for the grim future ahead. If they had enough food when the cold wind rises eventually, they wouldn't have to worry about feeding the people of the North or any
armies they host, so even if they have to fight the Walkers over a prolonged period, they won't have to worry about to dying of starvation first.

And that was what Jon had been up to for the last few days, he got up early in the morning before anyone else woke up and after renting a horse from the nearby market, he would try to travel to as many farms and cover as
much distance as he could so that he could compare the prices of all the corps available at the moment, and what he found about the prices had left him completely speechless.

"And most of their crops aren't the hardy ones like ours are so they have a small time limit before which they have to sell them whatever the price otherwise it'll all go to waste," Jon said with a glint in his eyes before he
smiled and asked, "Why don't you try and guess how much cheaper the price of grain here is?"

"Umm... Two times? Three times cheaper?" Dacey guessed randomly and when Jon still shook his head, she continued, "Five times? It can't be cheaper than that. Are you kidding me?"

"I am not. I have asked about the prices of almost every kind of crop available and I was shocked every single time," Jon said with a giddy smile, "Most of it is about TEN TIMES cheaper and some of the more abundant ones
go as far as fifteen times cheaper than they are in The North,"

"T-That's just absurd,"

"I know!" Jon nodded before his face took on a contemplative expression and said after a while, "I think we only need to spend about three thousand gold dragons to fill our ships to the brim with all kinds of grains and maybe
even some of those long-lasting fruits,"

"Amazing!" she exclaimed softly with wonder when she imagined what it would be like to have all the ships with so much food every single trip, "...so we'll have only 7000 gold dragons left?" she said with a small pout, a little
bummed out that the money went away so quickly.

"Hmm... Not exactly," Jon said while scratching his head. "You see, I've been thinking about it for a while now because I believe we urgently need to upgrade from these 'borrowed' longships."

"Why? What's wrong with them?"

"Well... they're not exactly designed for carrying cargo over long distances, are they?" Jon looked around at the cramped space of the ship. "We'll never be able to meet the demand for Starkhorses in the Reach, considering
how densely populated the cities are, and not to mention the Westerlands, with just the Longships. So I think we need to invest in those huge Trade vessels,"

"I guess that makes sense... So how much does it cost?"

"I've inquired with a couple of merchants around here, and from what I've gathered, there's not exactly a market for them at the moment. However, if we can secure an introduction to someone from House Redwyne, we can
easily get a decent trade vessel for around 5000 dragons."

"5000!"

"I know it's a lot, but it would be an investment in our future..."

"No... That's good! That's good," she mumbled with her eyes growing heavy. "Give it... Give it all away..." Her eyes closed abruptly, and she fell asleep right there.

Sigh

"Guess they were right when they said that too much isn't good for you..." Jon mused while gently carrying his sleep-deprived vice-captain to a hammock, allowing her to get some much-needed rest.

After ensuring that she was properly settled, Jon made his way to the deck, seeking a breath of fresh air. As he looked out at the bustling port, he thought about all the farms he had visited and which ones would be best to
purchase various grains from. He also considered which crops would be most beneficial for the North.

"CAPTAIN!" A shout from below abruptly interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced down to see a knight bearing the Tyrell rose on his breastplate standing beside the crew on guard duty.

Jon's guard called out to him, beckoning him to come down. He quickly descended to see what the knight wanted. As he stepped onto the plank, the knight stood before him, adopting a formal tone. "Captain Jon, I am here
on behalf of Lady Olenna Tyrell. She cordially invites you and Lady Mormont to have lunch with her at noon tomorrow."

Jon's first instinct was, of course, to deny it, with some kind of excuse like he was busy or that he was just leaving the port but he stopped himself at the last moment because he knew that it would be too discourteous and
almost insulting to deny a direct invitation by the Lady of a Great House.

Moreover, considering his plans for the Reach's future, it would be unwise to offend the region's rulers. Plus considering that she only sent this invitation after the very last Starkhorse had been unloaded, it meant Lady
Olenna had likely taken into account his previous rejection of Willas's invitation, and her spies in the port must have informed her. Declining again would be a grave misstep.

Jon nodded to the knight, accepting the lunch invitation. "Thank you. Please inform Lady Olenna that we gratefully accept her kind invitation."

The knight departed promptly, and Jon found himself lost in thought once more. Despite the adjustments he would have to make to his plans, he knew that engaging with Lady Olenna could potentially open doors and solidify
their position in the Reach. The lunch meeting would be an opportunity he couldn't afford to miss.

As the day drew to a close, Jon watched the sunset over the port, contemplating the future of their trade ventures and the prosperity it could bring to the North.

...

The very next day, Jon and Dacey found themselves seated opposite each other in a luxurious carriage provided by the Tyrells. Jon sported a black leather jacket and pants, paired with a vibrant red silk shirt that peeked out from underneath, red being his favourite colour and black was a nod to the other Jon.

Dacey, on the other hand, wore a simple blue gown adorned with delicate white flowers. It was a dress Jon had hastily procured from a nearby market the previous day after getting the invitation since he knew that she didn't
believe in always keeping a set of proper clothes at hand, unlike him.

"Do we really have to go through with this?" Dacey sighed, her face reflecting frustration as she fiddled with the collar of her gown, it seems that the close-neck gown wasn't agreeing with her, "Can't we just skip it?"

"Well," Jon began with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze fixed on the passing farmlands outside the window, "if this were our final trip to the Reach, never to return again, then perhaps we could entertain the idea of skipping it.
But considering our future plans and the need for regular visits, we'll have to endure it."

"Ugh... I can already imagine all the fake smiles and unnecessary courtesies of these Southerners, not to mention..." Jon just listened to her with a smile on his face as she ranted about things that she'd probably never
experienced herself in her whole life, but since it had been fed to her from childhood, she can't really be blamed for being prejudiced.

The North was prejudiced that all the Southerners were simpering fools while the South thought that all the Northerners were rude barbarians with huge beards, always drinking ale and laughing loudly. In an era before the
invention of Newspapers prejudice was really just another form of information passed on from the previous generation.

The carriage came to a stop about half an hour later and when they stepped outside, it was to find themselves standing in the shade of the massive infamous maze of High Garden. Highgarden was located on a broad
verdant hill overlooking the river Mander. The castle was surrounded by three rings of white stone whose walls increase in height as you went inside, the labyrinth they were standing outside was located between the Outer
and Middle walls.

Jon's attention was drawn to their welcoming party gathered near the entrance. Margery Tyrell, radiantly dressed, watched with exasperation as her brother, Loras, engaged in a heated argument with young Alla.

Jon nudged Dacey, signalling for them to approach the group. It didn't take long for Margery to spot them, and she eagerly exclaimed, "Jon! Dacey!" However, someone was even quicker to react.

"Jon! You came!" Little Alla's delighted exclamation filled the air as she rushed towards him, throwing herself into his arms.

"Whoa there!" Jon chuckled playfully, pretending to struggle under her weight. "You've grown quite heavy, Alla. Looks like they're overfeeding you here."

"No, they're not!" Alla protested with a mischievous grin.

"Jon, it's lovely to see you again," Margery greeted them cheerfully. Her gaze then shifted to Dacey. "And Dacey, that dress suits you beautifully." Dacey was someone who was as comfortable in her leathers as she was
elegant in her gown so that wasn't an empty compliment.

"I love your dress as well, Margery," Dacey replied somewhat awkwardly, not entirely accustomed to such effusive enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Loras had approached the group. While not yet the handsome man he would become, his curly brown hair and expressive eyes bestowed upon him a certain charm. However, his face remained stiff, as if he was
suffering from constipation and he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Jon, Dacey," Margery gestured toward Loras, who stood beside them. "Allow me to introduce my brother, Loras. Loras, this is Jon, and this is Dacey Mormont, the ones we've been hearing so much about."

"Lady Mormont, Jon Snow," Loras nodded politely to each of them before turning to Margery. "We should be on our way. We don't want to keep Grandmother waiting." Without waiting for a response, he swiftly turned and
began walking toward the maze entrance.

Margery wore an apologetic expression as she addressed Jon and Dacey. "I apologize for my brother's behaviour. He's usually not this rude, but..."

Jon interrupted her, flashing an unaffected smile and nudging Dacey in her side when she opened her mouth, probably to say something not very nice about Loras.

"No it's not fine," Margery insisted, leading them through the maze, "But you can blame his competitiveness as well as Alla for this," she playfully glared at little Alla accusingly who grinned cheekily.

"I don't understand," Jon admitted, looking around at the breathtaking garden they were passing through. The air was filled with intoxicating scents, and the vibrant array of flowers he observed surpassed anything he had
ever seen before.

"You see, Alla has been singing your praises to anyone who would listen since she arrived. When she declared that you were the best fighter she had ever seen, it triggered my stubborn brother, who firmly believes he's the
finest fighter of his age," Margery explained in a hushed tone, ensuring Loras, who walked a short distance ahead, couldn't overhear, "so then they started bickering about who'd win in a fight,"

"Humph! Back in the North, I never saw Jon lose in the training yard, not to anyone," Little Alla confidently declared. "But Loras constantly loses to big brother Garlan, the Master-at-Arms, and others." She said the last part
louder, causing Loras to stiffen and increase his pace.

"Little lady, are you revealing all my secrets?" Jon playfully teased, tousling her hair with a warm smile.

"Hehe..."

They continued through the beautiful surroundings of Highgarden, passing the castle sept adorned with rows of stunning stained-glass windows depicting Garth Greenhand and the Seven. Even Jon, who wasn't a fan of the
Andal faith, could admit that it was beautiful. A few minutes later they arrived at their destination which was actually a small training ground with all the usual things like dueling rings, practice swords, protection and such.

Adjacent to the training area was a small building, featuring a viewing area on the second floor with ample seating. From there, Jon could spot Olenna Tyrell seated with Willas, as well as a plump, middle-aged man indulging
in pastries, who was probably Lord Mace, who he didn't during his previous visit with Frost.

Margery prepared to lead them toward the stairs when Loras abruptly stepped in front of Jon, placing his hands on his hips. "Jon Snow, I challenge you to a duel."

Jon and Dacey exchanged amused glances, while Margery swiftly scolded her brother. "Loras! How can you be so rude to our guests?"

"What's the harm? If he's as skilled as they say, he won't be afraid of a little challenge," Loras retorted, attempting to provoke Jon with what he assumed was a smug smile.

"I don't think I'm quite dressed for a duel at the moment, so perhaps we—" Jon began, intending to politely decline. However, he was abruptly interrupted by Dacey's eager voice. "I'll do it!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up
with excitement.

"What?" Loras and Margery simultaneously voiced their confusion, while Jon turned to Dacey with a raised eyebrow.

Dacey leaned in close to Jon, whispering mischievously in his ear. "Let me play with the pretty boy, please. You know I'll be bored if I accompany you. You can handle the Tyrells while I take the flower down a peg or two."

"And how exactly do you plan to fight in a gown—" Jon paused mid-sentence, his voice filled with resignation, as Dacey's mischievous smile confirmed his suspicion. "Don't tell me you're wearing your leathers underneath
that."

"What do you think?" Dacey shrugged playfully, maintaining her impish expression. Jon shook his head, finally relenting with an exasperated sigh. "Fine... But don't get carried away."

"I'll do my best," she replied, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Loras grew increasingly impatient as they whispered back and forth. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he questioned fiercely, "So, are you going to fight or are you going to run away like a coward?"

"Loras!" Margery scolded him, then turned to Jon, her tone pleading. "You don't have to—"

"Let's go, pretty boy. I'll be the one fighting you," Dacey declared, a predatory smile spreading across her face.

"What? Why?" Loras asked, his confusion evident.

"Umm... Ah! That's right!", Dacey exclaimed with a sudden realization. "It's proper etiquette since Jon is our captain. You have to defeat me, the Vice Captain, first before challenging him. Didn't you know? It's common
knowledge," she claimed, maintaining a poker face as she spouted pure nonsense.

"But... you're a girl," Loras protested, turning to Jon with a fierce expression. "Are you trying to humiliate me?"

"No need to worry," Dacey assured him soothingly. "I'm just the appetizer. You can defeat me quickly as a formality, and then Jon will be all yours. Let's go!" Without waiting for his response, she strode purposefully toward the
training field.

Loras glanced back and forth between Dacey and Jon a few times, then reluctantly followed her, shouting over his shoulder at Jon, "Don't you dare go anywhere—I'll be back for you soon!"

Margery wore an anxious expression as she turned to Jon. "Is she going to be alright? Perhaps I should inform Grandmother, and she can intervene."

"Don't worry about her," Jon reassured Margery, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched Loras's retreating back before he started towards the stairs, "Let's go then,"

"But shouldn't we wait for her..."

"Oh! No need to do that," Jon said with an amused expression, "It might take a while. I suspect she won't let him leave until she's had her fill of fun."

"What?"

 

[ATP]

Poor Loras.Now,he could start hating not only North,but also womans !

 

[Asasyn13]

Poor Loras.Now,he could start hating not only North,but also womans !

Click to shrink...

Or the opposite, he would be interested in the northern women

 

[Ahtu]

"Ugh... I can already imagine all the fake smiles and unnecessary courtesies of these Southerners, not to mention..." Jon just listened to her with a smile on his face as she ranted about things that she'd probably never
experienced herself in her whole life, but since it had been fed to her from childhood, she can't really be blamed for being prejudiced.

Click to shrink...

TBF, if it wasn't Olenna of all ppl, she would be absolutely right about the Southern Lords and Ladies. Yes, there may be other exceptions, but the rule generally actually stands pretty tall. No less than 95% I'm pretty sure.

 

[ATP]

Or the opposite, he would be interested in the northern women

Click to shrink...

So,Loras would become masochist interested in Dacey? Author,please made it real !

TBF, if it wasn't Olenna of all ppl, she would be absolutely right about the Southern Lords and Ladies. Yes, there may be other exceptions, but the rule generally actually stands pretty tall. No less than 95% I'm pretty sure.

Click to shrink...

Add Tarly and Dorne as sensible ones,but you are right.
Even Tywin was,to be honest,fool - he should either kill Tyrion,or treat him better.
Not mention,that instead of killing Ellia&babies,he should rescue them and become regent.
He was not aware at that point,that Lyanna would die,so making Robert King had no sense for him.

 

[Ahtu]

So,Loras would become masochist interested in Dacey? Author,please made it real !




Add Tarly and Dorne as sensible ones,but you are right.
Even Tywin was,to be honest,fool - he should either kill Tyrion,or treat him better.
Not mention,that instead of killing Ellia&babies,he should rescue them and become regent.
He was not aware at that point,that Lyanna would die,so making Robert King had no sense for him.

Click to shrink...

Tarly and Dorne play "the game" in much the same ways. Tarly is also a stupid raging asshole of gigantic proportions. But even if he plays the noble game badly, he still plays it. Olenna plays it, but she doesn't buy into all the pomp, she just works with it as it is(and only when she can't get away with being more honest). That is very uncommon in the south.

TBF Olenna too is a bitch and a half. An absolute hypocrite of a misandrist. But she does idd not buy into the nobility idea as anything truly legit, and I recognize that at least.

Tyrion doesn't really buy into it, but then, he's not really allowed to be a part of that scene. Not truly. Tyrion is a spiteful little shit, a product of Tywin's horrible parenting, and Cersei's socio/psycho-pathic BS running pretty much unchecked. I pity their mother for what her children turned into, while I think Tywin has thoroughly earned it.

 

[ATP]

Tarly and Dorne play "the game" in much the same ways. Tarly is also a stupid raging asshole of gigantic proportions. But even if he plays the noble game badly, he still plays it. Olenna plays it, but she doesn't buy into all the pomp, she just works with it as it is(and only when she can't get away with being more honest). That is very uncommon in the south.

TBF Olenna too is a bitch and a half. An absolute hypocrite of a misandrist. But she does idd not buy into the nobility idea as anything truly legit, and I recognize that at least.

Tyrion doesn't really buy into it, but then, he's not really allowed to be a part of that scene. Not truly. Tyrion is a spiteful little shit, a product of Tywin's horrible parenting, and Cersei's socio/psycho-pathic BS running pretty much unchecked. I pity their mother for what her children turned into, while I think Tywin has thoroughly earned it.

Click to shrink...

All true.If Lannisters were not saved by GRRM in story,they should die at beginning of the war.
To be honest,declare Tywin as kind of genius and then made him behave like idiot....witchout plot schield he should die in volume 1,maybe 2.

 

[Karmic Acumen]

I'm not sure what to think, is Dacey canonically better than Loras? I seem to recall he was pretty good, as these things go. While Dacey's feats were mostly off-screen because most of Robb's feats were off-screen. Though maybe I just don't remember the right things.

 

[LazyWizard]

"What is that damn boy doing down there?" Olenna's voice seethed through gritted teeth as she leaned forward, her gaze piercing the scene unfolding below.

In the viewing area, the Tyrell family occupied their respective positions. Olenna, the matriarch, sat on the far right, her aged fingers drumming with impatience on a small table beside her, a plate of cheese forgotten. Lord Mace, occupying the central spot, had his table overflowing with an
assortment of snacks and pastries, clearly intended for the guests. And closest to the stairs was Willas watching with a troubled expression.

They all watched as Loras entered the desolate training ground accompanied by Dacey, the Northern girl from House Mormont. A fleeting conversation passed between them, and then immediately vanished into the nearby changing room, emerging moments later clad in leathers and breeches, a clothing rarely worn by women in Reach.

"I fear they're about to engage in a duel," Willas confided, his voice laden with concern, his gaze locked on Loras and Dacey as they began warning up, Loras with his training sword and Dacey Mormont with the only Morning star available in the Training yard that had barely been used by anyone before, "I-I warned you, grandmother, that sending Loras to receive Jon was ill-advised, Now—"

"And I thought he was going to provoke a fight with the boy, not the girl!" Olenna interjected. Although she loved all her grandchildren equally, there was something about Loras that reminded her too much of his father, speaking of which "What have you been teaching him, you—" she turned toward her biggest embarrassment only to find him gorging himself on pastries and hadn't even bothered to look up what was going on, "Stop eating, you fool!" she hissed, her frustration evident.

"But Mother—"

"NOW!" Olenna's harsh whisper echoed, compelling Mace to reluctantly set down his favourite cake. He quickly wiped his hands on his pants, a despondent look replacing the joy he had earlier derived from the snacks.

Just then, the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs caught their attention. All eyes turned to Margery, who led a handsome young man into the room. He possessed brown hair and grey eyes, a common trait among the Starks. However, his eyes were so dark grey that they appeared almost black. His tall stature and lean build hinted at countless hours spent in the training yard.

"Jon! It's wonderful to see you again, my friend," Willas exclaimed, rising from his seat to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake.

"The pleasure is mine, Willas," Jon replied warmly.

Willas suddenly narrowed his eyes and leaned down to whisper, "You decline my invitation, yet accept my grandmother's. Should I take offence?" he tried to say it with a stern expression on his face but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

With a poker face, Jon whispered back, "You lack the intimidating reputation your grandmother possesses."

Willas erupted into genuine laughter, his hand landing playfully on Jon's shoulder. "Good answer!" he chuckled. Turning to his assembled family, he declared, "Come, allow me to introduce you to my kin." Stepping forward, he gestured toward his father, Mace, and said, "Jon, this is my father, Lord Paramount of the Reach, Mace Tyrell."

"Lord Tyrell, it is an honour to make your acquaintance," Jon greeted Mace with a graceful bow, his words measured and respectful.

Mace's eyes fixated on Jon, a flicker of recognition in his gaze. "You bear a striking resemblance to your father, boy," he mused, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone. Not waiting for a response, he continued, "I met him a few times. Did he tell you about that?" With enthusiasm, Mace launched into a tale, recounting his involvement in the rebellion.

"It was during the rebellion, you see," Mace began, his voice filled with pride. "I was there outside Storm's End with my army, having the castle completely surrounded. Every single person inside was starving, on the verge of defeat. But before that could happen, your father arrived with the news that King's Landing had fallen..."

Mace continued with his story like a peacock while Willas and Jon exchanged awkward glances. Margery had been called to stand behind her grandmother as soon as she entered the room, and Jon caught a glimpse of her answering Olenna's whispered questions. Though he couldn't hear their conversation, he could deduce that they were discussing Loras and Dacey's activities below.

"—and then he requested that I lay down my arms and join their side," Mace continued, his voice brimming with self-importance. "I was reluctant, of course, but he convinced me that since the king was dead, there was no need for further bloodshed. So I graciously—

"I'm sure the boy has heard all about it from his father already. No need to bore him with that," Jon was sure that it didn't go down quite the way Mace put it but it would be stupid of him to deny the Lord some bragging so he just put on a fake smile and listened to his drivel. Still, he felt a wave of gratitude wash over him when Olenna interrupted, preventing Mace from delving into the entire rebellion from "his" perspective.

Seizing the opportunity, Willas swiftly ushered Jon toward his grandmother. "Jon, this is my grandmother, Olenna Tyrell nee Redwyne—"

"I'm sure he knows who I am, considering I am the one who invited him," Olenna interjected, her gaze appraising as she locked eyes with Jon. Jon responded by kissing the back of her hand with perfect courtesy. "My Lady, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Olenna raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "A Northerner with manners, now that's a rare sight," she commented.

"Grandmother!" Willas and Margery chimed simultaneously, their frowns mirroring their disapproval. Yet, Jon didn't lose his smile for a single second, in fact, it became even more genuine, as he replied with a tilt of his head, "Thank you for the compliment, My lady. I've worked hard on my etiquette since childhood,"

"Thank you for the compliment, my lady. I've worked hard on my etiquette since childhood."

Olenna's interest sparked an intrigued gleam in her eyes. However, the conversation was abruptly interrupted as Mace interjected, unable to resist boasting further. "Tell me, boy, did Lord Stark tell you about the Battle of Ashford? You know, the only time King Robert lost to anyone..."

Jon watched as the rest of the Tyrells, except Mace, tried to suppress groans of exasperation. It became clear that Mace had a habit of bragging to every new guest that arrived. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon caught Olenna's signal to one of her giant guards, standing by the stairs. The guard nodded imperceptibly, then positioned himself in front of Mace, bowing respectfully. "My Lord, the Maester has an urgent letter that requires your immediate attention."

"An important letter, you say?" Mace's eyes widened with feigned surprise. Puffing out his chest, he addressed Jon proudly, "I apologize, boy, but I must attend to this matter immediately. You know how many duties the Lord Paramount of the Reach has." With a final pat on Jon's shoulder,
Mace made his way toward the exit.

Willas shook his head with a sigh, disappointed at how gullible his father was. He knew that his Father wasn't the brightest but still, he should have known by now that it was one of Olenna's tactics to manipulate him. Thankfully, she refrained from issuing her usual "Get lost, you oaf!" reserved for family members. Maintaining a semblance of respect for the Lord of House Tyrell was crucial, no matter how superficial it might be.

"Now tell me—" Olenna began, but then paused and turned to her grandchildren. "What are you waiting for? Go see your brother make a fool of himself," she shooed them away with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I want to talk to Jon Snow here alone."

Willas hesitated momentarily before rising with a sigh. Casting an apologetic glance at Jon, he moved to stand by the railing, far enough to be out of earshot. Margery attempted to make herself inconspicuous, inching behind her grandmother, hoping to escape her notice. However,
Olenna's glare fixed on her granddaughter, prompting Margery to scramble after her brother, but not before waving to Jon and casting a pitying glance in his direction.

"Why are you still standing? Sit down!" Olenna commanded, and Jon calmly took the seat vacated by Willas. "Now tell me, why did you not accept Loras's offer to duel? Were you scared? Because if you were, I must say, I am quite disappointed. I thought that you Starks were famous for your Wolf's blood or something."

Jon easily recognized that Olenna had been trying to provoke him from the start, though the reason remained unclear. Nonetheless, he knew how to navigate such encounters. "Well, I thought it would be a waste of my time, as I came here for a different purpose than to play knight," he replied with a subtle smirk. "Besides, I am more of a hunter and an archer than a swordsman."

"A waste of time, you say..." Olenna mused, her narrowed eyes fixed upon him. "But didn't you promise to fight him once he defeated that girl?"

"I did," Jon nodded, his gaze shifting to the predatory smirk on Dacey's face below. "But I don't think it will come to that."

"I somehow get the feeling that you're underestimating my grandson," she remarked, plucking a piece of cheese from the plate before them. "And while I can see that the girl's a bit older than Loras, he has been taught by the finest knight the Reach could offer. He rarely loses to a fighter his age, so... I think you'd be foolish to take him for a lousy fighter."

Jon maintained his calm demeanour, his gaze steady. "Oh, I can see from here that he is a hard worker and has a solid foundation. But... that's all I can see," he subtly shrugged, provoking her. "I don't believe it would be enough to defeat Dacey."

Olenna raised an eyebrow, her confidence unwavering. "You're quite confident about her, aren't you?"

"I am," Jon affirmed.

"In that case, how about a bet?" Olenna proposed a glint of challenge in her eyes.

At last, Jon realized the true purpose behind her invitation and her initial attempts to provoke him. "What do you have in mind?"

"I've heard that you're in the market for some trade galleys," she inquired, raising an eyebrow. When Jon nodded, she continued, "So, how about I give you one for free if Loras happens to lose?"

"In exchange for what?" Jon knew that a single galley would be nothing more than pocket change for her so he didn't even bat an eye at her betting it on a simple duel.

"I've heard rumours of a secret route you use to bypass the Ironborn," she stated nonchalantly as if it hadn't been her true objective from the start. "I want access to that route if Loras wins. How does that sound?"

"Hmm... It does seem heavily skewed in your favour, considering the profits that can be made using the route," he mused. Then, with a sweet smile, he added, "But... I'll agree to that on behalf of you inviting me to see the castle of Highgarden"

"That's final then," she said, her smug smile mirroring Jon's. It was at that exact moment both of them looked down to find that Loras and Dacey had finished warming up and had entered the ring for their duel.

Loras had a distracted expression on his face as he kept glancing towards the balcony with a scowl on his face, while Dacey assumed a relaxed stance, her Morningstar gripped firmly in her right hand.

The duel started at a predetermined signal and Loras didn't waste a single second to go on the offensive with a flurry of strikes, each aimed at swiftly ending the contest. Yet, Dacey calmly evaded his attacks, stepping back and gracefully leaning her body sideways to narrowly avoid each blow. When she couldn't dodge, she effortlessly parried Loras's sword with her Morningstar, wielding it as if it weighed nothing.

In due course, Dacey found herself at the edge of the ring, forced to halt her evasive manoeuvres. Seizing the opportunity, Loras smirked and pressed his advantage, moving in for the kill as Dacey bought her Morning Star to defend against his slash.

As they locked their weapons, Loras opened his mouth, most probably to say something like, 'Surrender now,' or 'I don't want to hit a girl,' but sadly he never got the chance to say more than a few words as out of nowhere Dacey smashed her forehead ruthlessly into the pretty boy's nose causing him to see stars. He stumbled back like a disoriented drunk before crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.

A stunned silence settled over the scene, broken by Margery's gasp, "LORAS," as she rushed down the stairs to check on her fallen brother. Olenna wore an incredulous expression, while Jon calmly savoured a pastry before him, "Loras may have been taught by the best, but
unfortunately, he is still a green boy... On the other hand, Dacey has been slaying Wildlings and Ironborn raiders since she was ten years old... There was never any real competition between them from the beginning."

...

Loras once again crashed to the ground, prompting a groan from Willas on the balcony railing, while Margery anxiously observed the fight from outside the ring.

Loras, of course, hadn't accepted his defeat at Dacey's hand and immediately after getting rid of the dizziness as well as wiping the blood from his nose, he had jumped up and challenged her to a fight again saying that he only lost because he was distracted. And Dacey, who was in the ring for some entertainment to begin with, immediately complied and so began the beat down of the youngest Tyrell while the other three members of his family watched from afar.

While it was easy to see that Loras had all his fundamentals down and knew how to slash or stab flawlessly, his stance was stable too and he also utilized his footwork perfectly but the problem was that he was too rigid... his adherence to what he had been taught rendered his style somewhat flowery and predictable and Dacey exploited this flaw with relentless precision. His lack of experience in real-life-and-death battles became apparent, especially in contrast to Dacey, who had already shed all unnecessary elements from her skillset.

Punches to the gut, strikes to his hand holding the sword, trips, and so on, Dacey defeated him in a unique way every single time. And she didn't show him an ounce of mercy and even kicked him in the nuts once, which had kept him down for quite a while. Unlike Loras, who primarily relied on swinging and dodging, Dacey utilized every part of her body as a weapon. If Jon were to compare her fighting style to anyone, it would be to the Hound.

"He is tenacious, I'll give him that," Jon remarked, impressed by Loras's resilience. Willas emitted a hollow laugh beside him before turning to his grandmother. "Don't you think we should intervene? Isn't this enough?"

"No," Olenna retorted, ruthlessly turning away from the fight. "As Jon here said, the boy is still green. He needs to learn that there are better fighters out there, sooner or later." With her declaration made, she returned to her seat. Jon offered Willas a sympathetic pat before following
Olenna's lead and reclaiming his own seat.

"How much?" Olenna asked abruptly.

"Hmm! How much?"

Jon feigned puzzlement, though he knew precisely what she was referring to.

"How much for the route?" Olenna asked, her patience forced, as she had made no secret of her desire for it. She had wagered against him twice, initially believing that Loras had lost to Dacey due to a fluke. However, she stopped after losing two galleys as she wasn't blind enough to not see that her grandson simply wasn't the better fighter.

"Ah, that!" Jon exclaimed, raising his eyebrows before shaking his head ruefully. "I'm sorry to say that it's not for sale."

"Do you even understand what 'How much?' means, boy?"

"I do, actually," Jon replied, his gaze unwavering. "I'm aware that your house is one of the wealthiest in Westeros, second only to the Lannisters. But I also understand the value of this route. It would connect two kingdoms that have never engaged in substantial trade in history, two kingdoms with vast disparities—one rich in food, the other abundant in natural resources. This route has the potential to generate wealth not only once or twice, but for generations to come..."

Unspoken but understood between them was the security risk with the fact that the route would provide the Reach with a direct path into the North. Not that there was any such 'Route' to begin with unless you count the one you can only find with a warg. But Jon didn't have to tell that to Tyrell Martriach before him.

"You don't think you can keep it hidden for long, do you?" Olenna's tone remained neutral, lacking any hint of menace, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.

Jon chuckled softly. "Oh, I don't just think it—I know it. In fact, nobles and merchants from the Westerlands have been trying to find it for months now, but not a single one has succeeded. They've sent ship after ship to follow us, but each time, they either got lost at sea or had to turn back halfway because they couldn't keep up with us at night." He turned to Olenna with a smile. "I'm sure Tara has already informed you that we can travel during the night. So if you believe you can outdo them during the Hour of the Wolf, then by all means, try your hand at the open sea on a
dark night..."

Olenna had already gleaned all the details from Tara upon her arrival, which is also why she was so desperate to get the route as she knew that it would definitely give the Tyrells a large advantage over their powerful vessels. Moreover, she was aware that Jon had not only sold those Stark horses but also a variety of other Northern products that were highly sought after in the region. Thus, she could already envision the future profits that awaited her house.

"I heard that you've been seeking to purchase crops in bulk," Olenna abruptly changed the topic.

Jon wasn't surprised by her knowledge and responded innocently, "Yes, I am. Why do you ask? Are you looking to sell some?"

"I want you to exclusively buy from us, now and in the future..."

"That could be challenging," Jon replied with a thoughtful expression. "You see, I've already made promises to several suppliers that I will purchase from them. And you know how much a Stark's word means..."

When Olenna raised an eyebrow, essentially conveying the message, 'What do you want then?' Jon continued with a grin, "However, I am not exactly a Stark but a Snow, so I can agree to your proposal... with a few conditions, of course..."

"Go on," Olenna said, intrigued.
"You will always sell to us at twenty per cent less than the market price," Jon proposed.

It seems to her that boy's done a good amount of research as he quoted the exact amount which wasn't outrageous enough to not leave her with enough profits while not getting taken advantage of, so she agreed without any bargaining, "Fine,"

"You will provide us with as many trade galleons as we want on an interest-free loan—"

"What? Interest-free? Are you out of your mind, boy?" Olenna interrupted, her face displaying disbelief. "Do you take us for a charity? Why in the seven hells would I give you anything interest-free? And what do you mean by 'as many as you want'? Do you think we are the Bravoos,
churning out a new ship every other day?"

"Don't worry about that. We will only acquire the ships that we can afford, so you will have ample time. Besides, the most crucial resource needed is wood, which we can easily supply," Jon explained patiently. "Doesn't it make sense to you? The more ships we have, the more prosperous
we become. And the more prosperous we become, the more we buy from you. In the end, it's a win-win situation where everyone benefits."

Olenna didn't reveal it on her face, but she had to admit that she was genuinely impressed. She understood better and better how he achieved such success at such a young age. However, she was no pushover herself. "You know, I like the way you think. That's why I'll agree to your
condition, but only if I have the first priority to purchase any number of Starkhorses you bring to the Reach for us to sell."

"You want to tie us even further... Huh," Jon responded, raising an eyebrow.
"As you said, it's a win-win," Olenna stated. She had already heard that every merchant who had bought those Stark horses was selling them like hotcakes, so it didn't take her long to calculate that she would make significant profits for a long time. She wanted to get in on that action too.

"Half... You can have the priority of buying half the stocks," Jon negotiated, anticipating Olenna's potential objection, "AND you'll get a ten per cent discount for being our Business Partner,"

"Fine...then—"

"Let's get to Condition number three then..." Jon interjected with a wide smile.

"Oh, you're a greedy little bastard, aren't you?" Olenna remarked, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"I am, indeed," Jon replied cheekily, as he had resolved from the beginning to squeeze as much as he could from these wealthy Southerners.

...

"...Oh, don't glare at me like that, pretty boy," Dacey said with a smirk, addressing Loras, who had finally exhausted his stamina and lay on the ground, breathing heavily. "You do know that I was going easy on you."

Loras glared even harder, and Dacey raised her hand in surrender, saying with a cheeky smile, "I really was! See, I didn't go for your pretty face even once—Oh! Sorry! Only once!"

She was telling the truth, but every other part of Loras's body was filled with bruises and ached more than anything. Loras had always believed he was a skilled fighter, and he had imagined himself surpassing the likes of Ser Barristan or Ser Jaime with time, confident that he would
eventually, defeat them.

But today he learned that he didn't amount to much if he couldn't even beat an ordinary girl from the North. Perhaps he wasn't the prodigy he thought himself to be, and maybe everyone had been taking it easy on him.

As Loras grappled with his internal conflict, Jon called out to Dacey from the base of the stairs, "Dacey! Come on, we're leaving."

"Oh, right," she nodded at Jon before turning back to Loras, who was getting up. She placed the Morning Star on the ground and said, "It was nice playing knight with you, pretty boy, but I have to go now. Maybe we'll have another bout the next time we meet."


"I-I'll definitely beat you next time," Loras declared with determination, looking straight into her eyes.

"Uh... sure," Dacey responded with an amused smile before running toward Jon, who was impatiently waiting. "So, are you done with your talks?"

"I am," Jon replied, immediately heading towards the exit.

"And..." Dacey asked, struggling to keep up with him. "How did it go?"

"We got more than I had hoped for, so it was perfect," Jon answered before turning to her with an accusing glare. "No thanks to you! I specifically told you to take it easy on the kid."

"Hehe... I just couldn't help it. He was so naive and overconfident that I wanted to teach him a lesson," Dacey admitted with a sadistic chuckle, but she stopped herself upon seeing Jon's glare. "Besides, he was the one who kept coming back for more. It wasn't my fault... Is that why we're
leaving so early? Is the old crone angry that I hurt her precious grandson too much and is kicking us out?"

"No, nothing like that," Jon clarified.

"Then why?"

"Because that foolish wildling somehow slipped past the guards and is now roaming the streets of Highgarden," Jon said through gritted teeth.

"Oh... Yeah, that would be a disaster waiting to happen..." Dacey responded, realizing the potential consequences.

///

if you want to partake in some advanced chapters and support me, visit my patreon page: patreon.com/lazywizard

 

[ATP]

Well,Val would be Val.
About Their deal - it should be good for both sides.And,when war finally happen,maybe Olenna would decide to marry Margery to Robb,not Renly.

P.S about duel - sorry,but if Dacey had only morningstar,she would lost.You could not use it for duels,only for smashing things when you have schield in second hand.

Only morningstar,against dude with sword - she should lost.

 

[Ahtu]

Well,Val would be Val.
About Their deal - it should be good for both sides.And,when war finally happen,maybe Olenna would decide to marry Margery to Robb,not Renly.

Click to shrink...

Probably, since at this pace, The North is liable to become more powerful. And the spiteful, perverse little shit in his tower is liable to get squashed if he tries to make demands for passage.

 

[ATP]

Probably, since at this pace, The North is liable to become more powerful. And the spiteful, perverse little shit in his tower is liable to get squashed if he tries to make demands for passage.

Click to shrink...

Do not offend little shits comparing them to Walder Frey!
They are good at least for little plants.When Walder is good for notching.

 

[Karmic Acumen]

It's such a shame the SFW section of this website is so dead, comparatively. This story deserves at least 10x more likes and engagement than it's getting.

 

[ATP]

It's such a shame the SFW section of this website is so dead, comparatively. This story deserves at least 10x more likes and engagement than it's getting.

Click to shrink...

That is why almost all stories go to hentai section.....

 

[LazyWizard]

"Shit! Fuck! Shiiit! Fuuuck!"

Cursing under her breath, that was all Val could do as she gazed around in awe at this strange place called a market, where she had ended up after slipping away from the ship. The overwhelming sights, the myriad of food and spices filling the air with scents, the rainbow of colours displayed in the clothes, and the endless chatter in languages she had never heard before - it was a bewildering experience.

Never had she seen so many people gathered together in one spot, not even in the bustling port of Bear Island, which paled in comparison to this sprawling market. In every direction she turned, she saw countless faces, houses built upon houses, and what astounded her the most was the absence of violence or thievery. It was a challenge to comprehend a place where folks didn't constantly seek to harm you or steal from you or even 'steal' you, something she had grown used to in the harsh North.

And the attire of these people was utterly absurd to her. The men and women wore flimsy, colourful garments so thin that even a jagged rock would tear right through them, not to mention if they happened to run across a wolf, and even more stupid were the ones wearing those big shiny armour which would be completely useless if they happen to come across a bear. 'How would they even run in that?'

"Maybe there are no wolves or bears in the South," Val mused, "or else they'd have been feasted upon already," she thought, observing a plump individual in garish yellow clothes peddling spices with great enthusiasm

And while she had heard about the money thing from Jon and seen many of the people around her using those copper and silver coins to exchange for things like food, she just couldn't wrap her head around why anyone would ever give away good food to anyone else for those small metals that wouldn't even stop a dagger.

In the true North, there was no need for these metals, you ate what you hunted and if you wanted a knife or sword or spear, then you either make them yourself and, if you can't, then you can exchange that for stuff you have like meat, animal skin, fruits etc and if you can't even do that then you just loot them from someone weak who has them.

And she was exactly having that itch to loot at the moment seeing people selling so many different kinds of things, some had so many unique colours and shapes of fruits while others were sitting on piles and piles of fish, she had never seen so much fish in her life, she was sure that they could feed a few clans with them. It was pure torture for her to see all these fat sheep around walking without a care in the world.

And it would be so easy for her to steal from these stupid Southerners as barely one out of ten of them were carrying any kind of weapon on them as if they didn't even think that anyone would try to rob them and they may need to protect their stuff. She could just take whatever she fancied and these fat asses probably wouldn't even be able to run after her.

But then she remembered what Jon had said about stealing not being allowed here and if someone still steals then the king sends an army after them and then cuts their hands off if they are caught. So she stopped her hands from wandering as much as she could as she had no desire to confront an entire army for a few stolen fruits.

"Step right up! We got Fresh Bacon and Fish!"

Just as she was grappling with lost opportunities, a man's boisterous call for food caught her attention, making her wonder if he was bragging about it. He was standing outside a somewhat big open house but it was a weird one as it didn't seem to have any place to sleep instead it was filled with a dozen chairs with every one of them having a few people.

"My Lady! Beautiful Lady! Yes, You!" the man suddenly said enthusiastically to her when he caught her staring inside, "Do you want to partake in our food? I promise! you won't be disappointed,"

"Are you talking to me?" She asked and when he nodded happily she continued with wide eyes, "Are you saying I can eat anything I want?"

"Of course, Mam," the man said enthusiastically, "We got Fish, Bacon, Porridge, Bread, freshly baked pie and a lot more, you will definitely be satisfied. Come! Come inside," he said half pushing her in and making her sit at a table.

And just like that, the beautiful Wildling went into a tavern for the time in her life... Not that she knew what a tavern was...

...

Approximately an hour later, Val groaned in discomfort as she stuffed the final piece of pie into her mouth. Ever since she entered this strange establishment, she had been indulging in an endless stream of unfamiliar dishes, each one a new sensation: spicy, sweet, meat, vegetables, and more.

And the funny thing was she didn't have to name a single one as the man who had bought her would come to her table every few minutes and say the names of a few dishes and ask her if she wanted them and all she would have to do was nod and he would swiftly bring them to her. That was how she found herself sitting before a table that was groaning under the weight of the plates that she had emptied.

"Anything else, Fair Maiden," the man came again and even though he was sweating from having gone back and forth constantly over the last hour to serve her, he still had a smile on his face.

Val looked down at her newly acquired round belly and reluctantly shook her head. "Nay, I'm full," she replied. She didn't know if she would ever get a chance like this in the future and she wanted to nod her head so much at the moment but she knew her body very well and knew that if she took another bite then she would definitely be sick and puke everything that she had eaten.

Which was a novelty in and of itself, as she never imagined that she would ever get sick due to overeating.

Val rose from the table with a contented belch, offering the man a charming smile and a wave of gratitude for the bountiful feast he had provided. With a light skip in her step, she began heading towards the exit, feeling pleasantly satiated.

"Mam! Madam, you forgot to pay, Haha," the man called out, hurrying to catch up with her, forcing a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Val tilted her head in confusion, "Pay? For what?"

"The money," he replied, his smile faltering.

Her brow furrowed, "Money? Wasn't it free?"

"Of course, it wasn't free," he hissed, finally losing his smile, he had lost a few stones of weight while running back and forth, serving her like a slave and watching as she ate enough to feed three big knights and now she was saying that she wasn't going to pay.

"Oi! You're the one who forced me to come in and started putting dishes one after the other without saying anything about the money, I thought I didn't have to pay,"

Laughter erupted from the nearby tables, particularly from a group of men sitting on her right. Among them were five men, two of whom were identical twins, enjoying their meal while standing the other three were standing behind them, and of them, two were wearing armour and a sword at their waist while the last was a timid-looking, rotund boy with a moon-shaped face, around 12 years old. Unlike the others, he regarded Val with a sense of pity and refrained from laughing.

"H-How could you not think that you would have to pay?" the man asked her dumbfoundedly.

"It's your fault for not saying anything at the start, and I got no money anyway so it's your bad luck," she shrugged and turned around to leave.

Before she could go, the man blocked her path with a fierce expression, "You can't leave here after so much, little lady, you're going to pay for it one way or another..." he leered at her body with a gaze that she she was all too familiar with.

The fierce smile that appeared on her face scared the shit out of the man for a moment, making him step back and just as she was contemplating stabbing him and running away, a voice came from behind her, "I'll pay for the lady,"

Turning around, she saw one of the twins speaking while the other encouraged him with encouraging pats on the back, urging him forward. Hobber, as she heard him being called, approached her haughtily, tossing a gold dragon at the man blocking her path. He wore one of those brightly coloured, flimsy garments that she had seen on a few people before.

Hobber bowed before her and said arrogantly, "May I have the fair lady's name?"

"Val," she replied, finding the whole encounter rather peculiar. She assumed it was one of the courting rituals of the Southerners, but she had no interest in entertaining a weak man like him. With a snort, she turned to leave.

Hobber's face fell as he saw her walk away before he turned around to look at his brother who immediately facepalmed and exclaimed, "Go after her, you idiot,"

He nodded and immediately went after the most beautiful girl he had seen, other than Margery of course. He caught up to Val not far away, near an alley, and inquired, "Which noble house do you belong to, My lady?" he assumed she was noble seeing how pretty she was as he thought that only nobles would have such beautiful blonde hair and white skin. He wanted to know where she was from so that he could properly court her.

"What? What do you mean a house?"

"What?" Hobber asked confused, "You're not a noble?"

"No," she said absentmindedly before walking away.

Hobber's demeanour changed immediately. He pulled at her elbow with a leering smile, "Hold on, girl. You can't just leave without repaying me," his earlier thoughts of courting had faded now that he saw her as a mere commoner, he was sure that his family name would be enough to get the girl into his bed one way or another.

...

Val let out an exasperated groan, finding herself in yet another troublesome situation, and it wasn't like she hadn't had these in the true North from Men who wanted to steal her, but it was just that the Men there were true to themselves and straightforward so she didn't have to hesitate to cut their cock off and no one would even bat an eye at it but now...

'It would be hard to get away with that,' she thought while looking at the people walking beside them while giving them a wide berth after taking a look at the grapes drawn on the man's clothing.

"I am Hobber Redwyne," he said arrogantly, "So you'll come with me if you know what's good for you," he said fiercely when he saw that she wasn't paying him any attention, and wasn't immediately scared of him like he expected her to be.

Val suddenly yanked her hand away from him and then before he could do anything about that, she looked at him with a sweet smile and asked, "Do you have more of those metals from before,"

He was confused for a moment about what she was talking about before he asked puzzledly, "Are you talking about Gold?", and when she nodded he continued with a smirk, "Oh yes I have plenty of those,"

Val had been thinking about this for a while now, as it seemed that it would be very convenient for her in the South if she had a few of those gold metals called Dragons with her and she had the perfect sucker in front of her that would be happy to supply her with those, so she smiled and said, "Let's go, then,"

'Maybe, it's not so bad if the south is filled with suckers like him,' she thought while looking at his stupid smile as they went into an alleyway.

Unbeknownst to Val, two guards had followed after them and had been observing their interactions from a distance and were quietly shaking their heads at the sight.

...

"Is she really here?" Dacey asked as they left the bustling market behind them and entered a deserted alley that led to a small forest filled with shrubs and short green trees, "Why the hell would she even go in here?"

"You'll find out about that soon enough?" Jon replied with a sigh, leading the way with a sense of resignation, 'It was stupid of me to think that someone like her would stay put for just a few hours,' he had been planning to take her on a trip to the port to get her familiarized with the South after he got back from the visit to the Tyrells but it seems that the girl just couldn't wait.

Their progress into the trees was interrupted by a sudden scream in the distance. The moment she heard the girlish scream, Dacey immediately took off towards the sound. Only a few minutes later a clearing appeared in front of her but the scene that awaited her, definitely wasn't what she had been expecting.

The one who was screaming and crying was actually a young man, a Noble from the looks of his clothes. He was lying on the ground with his hands locked behind his back with Val sitting atop him with a dagger in her hands, attempting to cut off his finger, "Stop squirming, You Idiot!"

"Stop! Stop! Don't do that!" shouted the two guards who were standing a few meters away from them, with their swords out but the only thing they could do at that moment was plead impotently to the girl with the dagger if they didn't want to get their lord maimed.

Dacey couldn't contain her shock, "What the fuck is happening here?"

"Oh you're here," Val said dully, as the sadist smile she had on her face all this time turned to a disappointed frown, and the people in the clearing finally noticed the new entrants.

It seems that she'd been panicking for nothing, Dacey mused as she felt Jon finally enter the clearing behind her at a relaxed pace. 'It seems the situation had been under control from the start...' she thought, her eyes flicking to the blue sky above, and finding the massive Frost far up in the sky after some difficulty.

"How did you guys find me," Val asked them with a pout.

Ignoring Val's question, Jon calmly inquired, "What do you think you're doing?"

Innocently, Val replied, "Oh, this! I am just taking the just price by cutting off his finger,"

The guards, pleading helplessly from a distance, asked, "Do you people know this insane girl? Quickly get her to leave our lord!"

"Y-Yes! Please save me!!"

"Why do you want to do that?" Jon asked as he and Val ignored the panicking guards and sniffing noble.

"Because he failed to steal me and now that he has failed, he obviously has to pay the price— And speaking of which, You Liar!" she suddenly glared accusingly at Jon and said, "You told me that stealing didn't happen here and that it wasn't allowed in the south,"

Jon turned his eyes towards the noble who immediately stuttered, "S-She's lying! I didn't steal anything from her Argh—" he immediately cried as he felt his hands about to break when Val yanked them even further.

"Shut up! You fucker! You should be thankful that I didn't cut off your cock like I usually do," she did consider it for a while but then decided against it as it would be too messy and besides there was no way she would find a heart tree around here to sacrifice his cock and balls, anyway.

"Val, come here," Jon suddenly interrupted her.

"But—"

"Now," he said and the look in his eyes told her that he wasn't asking, and she already knew how dangerous he could be from their first encounter so she reluctantly obeyed Jon's command, standing up from the nobleman but not before delivering a fierce kick to his groins, "Che! You got lucky! You shit!" she then spat at him for good measure before ignoring him and going towards Jon and Dacey who were looking at her with exasperation.

"Humph! You're too soft," Val remarked to Jon, clearly disappointed in his intervention. "If it was another free man from the True North, he would have already killed these men and strung them to the trees for trying to steal his woman." Behind her, the guards immediately rushed to their lord the moment Val left him and tried to calm him down and make sure that he wasn't missing any parts.

"First of all, you're not my woman," Jon said with a sigh while massaging his forehead, "And secondly don't think I don't know what you did," he said while staring pointedly at the pouch of coins on her waist that she obviously nicked from the noble. She haughtily looked away instead of answering him and going to stand beside Dacey.

"Let's just go," he said, ready to put this bizarre encounter behind them and continue their journey.

"Stop!" Hobber screamed, "You think you can just leave like that!" he said while looking at them with anger and humiliation, "Raul! Paul! Take them!"

"I was hoping to resolve this peacefully, " Jon murmured to himself as he turned around, "But I guess I was asking too much from this world,"

Meanwhile, Val leaned towards Dacey and asked, "What's the deal with those two," she jerked her chin towards the guards who were coming towards them with their swords, "They suddenly came out of nowhere saying that I should not cut that shit. Are they his family or something?"

"No. They are his guards," Dacey answered, while nonchalantly watching Jon walking towards the armed men, "They are sworn to protect him with their life,"

"What?!" Val said with a dumbfounded look on her face and asked, "Why would anyone do that? And for What?" it was a completely foreign concept for her that someone would willingly try to protect someone, "Is he one of those kings or something,"

"Nooo..." Dacey chuckled at the naive question from the young wildling, "He's just a noble," she said while looking at the Grape insignia on his clothes.

"So why would they do that if he isn't the king,"

"Probably for Money or honour or protection or something like that..."

"You Southerners do a lot of stupid things," Val said to Dacey who just shrugged without going into an explanation of how she wasn't a Southerner.

"How about I just give you back your money and we can go our ways... Huh," Jon tried one last even though he knew the answer he was going to get.

"Fuck the Money!" The noble growled while leaning against a tree with his hands lying uselessly by his side as they were still numb from the abuse they suffered, "I want that bitch to suffer for what she did," he glared at the girl who completely ignored him, "What the fuck are you waiting for? Kill Him!" he screamed at his guards who immediately pounced on Jon.

The guards had decent enough skills, but nothing to write home about. Jon weaved between their attacks effortlessly as if he knew where their swords were going to be next.

He was quick as a rabbit as he ducked, sidestepped and leaned out of their slashes and to the outsiders it felt as if the guards were intentionally avoiding Jon's body.

He didn't take them seriously enough to feel the need to take out his sword and was even relaxed enough to talk while evading their attacks, "You know my father always says that the only time a man should take out his sword is when he intends to kill. So you should really be careful with those, they are quite sharp you know,"

The guards were getting irritated and feeling incompetent as they couldn't seem to touch him at all and finally, the one on the right shouted in frustration, "Shut UP!" and stabbed with all his might, extending himself.

JJon sidestepped effortlessly, leaving the guard off balance. In one swift motion, Jon's hand shot out, landing two precise blows, one to the guard's throat and the other to his nose. Gasping for air, the guard dropped to his knees, clutching his injured throat, his face turning green.

Meanwhile, the second guard charged with reckless abandon, slashing his sword downward with all his might. Jon leaned back with a graceful tilt, the blade narrowly missing his nose. Taking advantage of the guard's exposed side, Jon's leg swung up like a whip, delivering a powerful kick to the back of his knee. The guard crumbled to the ground, wincing in pain and a quick kick to the back of his head took care of him as he went down with a groan.

His eyes finally turned to the Noble who immediately flinched and stumbled backwards as Jon started walking towards him, "Y-You won't get away with it! I am Hobber Redwyne and My father—"

"Do you know who I am?" Jon interrupted him calmly while looking down at him, "Where we are from? Who the girl was?"

Hobber gulped as he wondered if he had kicked a steel plate this time, "W-Who are you?"

"That's perfect," Jon gave him a bright grin before he kicked him in the face with enough force that a loud snap was heard before everything went black for the noble.

"Ha! Good kick!" Val exclaimed with a loud laugh as the last of them went down, "Come on let's take everything and string them up from the trees," she said excitedly while rushing towards the downed guards.

Jon and Dacey immediately exchanged helpless glances with each other, both of them wondering what they had gotten into.

///

 

[Commedia]

……I am flashing back to so many D&D moments.
we were real murderhobos….so many failed insight and diplomacy checks…..

 

[ATP]

Wildling values meet Southern values.Jon Snow win.
P.S Hobber eventually would knew.Not strong enough to hurt Jon,but...Olenna would use that to buy some Jon stuff cheaper.

 

[LazyWizard]

"Dacey! Why don't you head straight to the ships?" Jon suggested as the three of them emerged from the forest.

"Why?" Dacey inquired.

"We've struck a good deal with the Tyrells, and they'll soon be sending people to deliver a large shipment of crops. I need you to be there to oversee things," Jon replied with a smile.

"Alright then, but keep an eye on this one," Dacey said with a teasing smirk, pointing to Val. "She can be quite slippery,"

"Don't worry," Jon assured her with a smile while Val pouted at them.

With that, Dacey took a different path that led directly to the ports, while Jon followed the alley from where Val had previously entered.

"Where are we off to now?" Val asked eagerly, her excitement for exploring the south renewed after taking care of the nuisance, and with a few gold coins in her pocket, she was eager to indulge herself. She had her eyes on some items she'd seen earlier – a steel dagger, a new bow, or maybe a pair of those sturdy shoes...

"To eat," Jon said succinctly.

"What? But I just ate," Val protested, making a face. "And I'm not very hungry at the moment," she added reluctantly, finding it hard to decline food.

"You're not hungry, but I am," Jon said, rolling his eyes, "Besides, do you know the food I missed because of you... And the Tyrells are especially famous for the feasts they throw—"

"Shut up, Piggy,"

Jon was suddenly interrupted by a loud yell coming from the alley they were entering. The sight before him was unpleasant – a man with a malicious expression on his face, quite similar looking to the one he had just knocked out a few minutes ago, was viciously kicking a fat kid in the stomach.

The boy, around twelve years old with a round face, offered no resistance. He merely covered his head and curled up in a fetal position, whimpering, "P-Please, S-Stop! I am sorry!"

"I don't need your apologies, you pig!" the man, likely the other Redwyne twin, taunted with an unpleasant smirk. "I just need you to entertain me! My brother is probably enjoying himself, so it's your responsibility to make sure I don't get bored."

"P-Please, it hurts Ugh—"

"That's the whole point, Piggy," Redwyne sneered, grabbing the boy by his hair and forcing him to look into his eyes. "You're really pathetic. You know, your father wants you to become my father's page, hoping it will toughen you up... Humph! As if that were possible," he continued, slapping the boy with all his might. "And not only that, he wants to betroth my sister to you. My sister! As if trash like you could ever be good for her," he said before unleashing more brutal slaps.

"I-I am sorry! I don't want to marry your s-sister..." the boy pleaded, trying to shield himself.

"Ah, so now you think you're better than her," Redwyne scoffed, his hands aching from the slapping, so he resorted to kicking again. "You think just because you've read some books, you're smarter than the rest of us, huh... Well, you need to remember that you'll always be a fat coward and nothing else—"

Bang

Suddenly, the tormented boy heard a loud thud from above, and the kicks ceased. He cautiously opened his eyes to see a handsome young boy standing in front of him, with a sheathed sword in his hand. Behind him stood a beautiful girl, and at their feet lay the unconscious bully, knocked out by the boy's sword.

"Hello!" the handsome boy greeted with a warm smile while attaching his sword back to his waist nonchalantly, "I am Jon Snow," he said while extending his hand.

Sam flinched at the hand before he realised that he didn't intend to hit him. He blushed slightly as he took Jon's hand who pulled him to his feet with surprised ease, "I-I am Samwell Tarly," he introduced himself with a sniffle.

"Sam," Jon said, walking over the fallen Redwyne to Sam and wrapping a friendly hand around his neck, "Tell me, Are you hungry?"

"Huh..."

...

"What do you think of the boy?" Olenna inquired, taking a piece of cheese from the plate as she and her grandson enjoyed the sun on the balcony, just after the boy from the North had left them rather abruptly.

"About Jon?" Willas confirmed before continuing, "I think he possesses a fierce intelligence, accomplishing quite a lot at such a young age. Moreover, he has a good heart, making him a reliable partner for us for a long time and—"

"Is that it?" Olenna interrupted impatiently, shaking her head. "Is that all you can say? That he's a good boy! Your father would have been able to tell me that. You disappoint me, Willas," she tutted.

"I apologize," Willas responded, bowing his head without changing his expression. "Can you enlighten me then? Tell me what I missed," he asked with patience.

His grandmother was one of the smartest people he knew, always seeing things that he wouldn't be able to in a hundred years. She always told him to look underneath the underneath but he still fell short. Nevertheless, he hoped to learn her skill from her eventually.

"The first thing you should have noticed about him," Olenna began, taking a glass of wine from the nearby table, "is the way he talks and carries himself. It was evident from the start that the boy received a proper noble's education from a young age, which is unusual considering his parentage."

Willas suddenly interrupted her, "But we already know that Lord Stark loves the boy and has raised him alongside his siblings in Winterfell, despite being a bastard. Maybe it's that famous honour that he's known for that compelled him to educate and raise his bastard to adulthood,"

"Honor!" Olenna scoffed, displaying her thoughts about the notion. "Even if that's the case, there are still some traits common among bastards that were completely missing in him."

"What do you mean?"

"Bastards, especially those raised near their noble siblings, often feel envy towards their legitimate brothers and sisters. They crave their parent's love and the respect usually given to their siblings. When they can't attain these things, they become resentful, and it shows in their eyes... But this Jon Snow, I didn't see a drop of that from him... and if I didn't already know, I wouldn't have guessed he was a bastard given the charisma he exudes."

"That's just your prejudice against bastards," Willas responded, shaking his head. "You can't make a mountain out of a molehill just because he's a little confident,"

"Just because it's prejudice, doesn't mean it's wrong," Olenna retorted with a shrug. "And that's not all. The most important thing is the power he wields."

"Power?"

"Didn't you notice how that lass from House Mormont obeyed him, even though she's a noble? Moreover, he was able to demand and negotiate, striking a deal that would impact the whole North without hesitation, as if it was a given... One can only do that if they have the absolute trust of the Lord Paramount. It's a power I don't believe Lord Stark would grant anyone merely because they are his bastard."

Olenna kept one thing to herself – the moment she laid eyes on the boy, something flickered in her mind, as if she recognized him. Yet, she couldn't pinpoint what it was. There was something at the edge of her memory, a missing puzzle piece, eluding her grasp. She knew that if she could capture it, everything would fall into place.

Olenna abruptly turned to Willas and asked, "You're still in touch with that brute from Dorne, Aren't you?"

"Who—Oh! you mean, Obreyn," he said while rolling his eyes, "Yes, we exchange letters from time to time. Why?"

"I need you to write to him and ask him to send some people to look into a few things..." Olenna said with determination, 'Let's see if your history checks out, Snow,'

....

The moment the singer stopped playing the lute, the boisterous tavern erupted into a cacophony of mugs clanging, shoes thumping, and hands clapping, with people hollering for the singer to go again.

The room was dimly lit, filled with the smell of ale and smoke from the hearth. The singer had already performed the popular song "Bear and the Fair Maiden" multiple times at the rowdy tavern's demand, and this time, he was firm in his refusal, thanking the crowd with a smile and a bow, but refusing to pick up the lute again.

All the drunks groaned in disappointment, and an old fisherman, sitting at a table with his two similarly aged friends, called out to the singer, "Come here, Son." The singer happily obliged, sitting at their table with a relaxed smile, "Thank you, Old man."

"That was a good one, Lad, you deserve a drink on me," the old fisherman declared, turning to the bar and shouting, "Give the man a mug and keep them coming."

"Aye!" echoed the barkeep.

"So tell me, lad. Where do you hail from? and What brought you here?" the Singer was already a middle-aged man but considering the old fisherman's age, it was somewhat alright for him to call him lad.

"I am just a small-time wandering singer. I heard there was work to be found here in Barrowtown, so I picked up my lute and hit the road—" He was interrupted as the bartender placed a mug of Ale in front of him. "Thank you!" the singer said, taking a big gulp of the alcohol.

"Ah! That makes sense," the old man said and all three of them nodded their heads understandingly, "You're not the first nor the last. We've been getting a lot of visitors from all over the North recently."

"Aye," said one of the fisherman's friends. "I even heard a crofter saying he came all the way from Dreadfort!"

"The Land of Boltons?"

"Aye, imagine travelling all the way from there."

"Eh! Probably wasn't that hard considering those pink-eyed freaks in charge," the old fisherman scoffed.

"Haha, you got that right," his friend thumped him on the back, and they all shared a laugh.

"So how did it happen," The singer suddenly interrupted, "I mean the last time I came here, there was almost nothing around these parts... No big port... nor that huge wooden building in which they are making those strange horses, and I even saw some carts bringing stones all the way from the Quarries of the Mountain Clans to use for the Mormont castle... I mean it's just a lot has happened in just a couple of years... It's hard to believe,"

The three old men started exchanging strange glances with each other at that, each of them having a subtle smile on their face. The oldest one among them, who had kept quiet all this while, suddenly started speaking in a gruff, "I wouldn't believe it either... if I didn't see it happen with my own eyes. A few years ago all the people here could think about was how they would deal with the next Wildling attack or who would die the next time those Ironborn raiders came to our shores..."

The fisherman took over from there, "And if not that, then we would probably be worrying about how much of our crops we will be able to retain and how much would be destroyed by a sudden summer snow... so All in All there was not a lot we could think about doing except for surviving. But now..."

"Let's just say that we got a hell of a lot of free time on our hands now," the last man finished with a smile.

"Really," the Singer said sceptically, "So they just don't come here anymore?"

"Oh they do, not as much as they used to but, they still do!" the fisherman said before a fierce smile appeared on his face,

"The difference now is that none of them ever leave these islands alive."

"So... you manage to kill all of them? That's impressive."

"Of course!" the fisherman boasted proudly, "Let me tell you about the Wildling attack that happened not too long ago," he with his eyes gleaming, "Those Wildling fuckers thought themselves clever and decided to attack two places at the same thinking to catch us off guard... But do you know what happened in the end," the singer shook his head so he continued with a smirk on his face, "It was all the same anyway as the boy managed to kill off EVERY LAST ONE of them on his own," he finished before he emptied his cup and slammed it on the table with a satisfied burp.

"Not every one of them," the youngest of the three locals chimed in with a lewd smile, "Remember the pretty one?"

The singer's interest piqued, and the others rolled their eyes.

"I've seen her, I swear. She really is pretty! I bet even prettier than those southern lasses... but it's just... she's a Wildling," the youngest added, shaking his head.

"Ah! Fuck that," said the oldest with a growl, "The boy can have all the wildling beauties on that side of the wall if he wants to... considering all he's done for us,"

"Aye!" "Aye!" Both of them immediately agreed at the fierce look in the old man's eyes.

"It's really not much of a surprise, is it," the youngest said after a while, "Considering whose blood runs through his veins..."

"The boy," the singer suddenly interrupted again, "What did you say his name was..."

"Jon Snow!"

"Aye! This Jon Snow," The singer took a sip nonchalantly and asked, "Where do you think I could find him," he hurriedly continued at their suspicious looks, "You know I figure he would have some work for me..."

"Out of luck, lad," the fisherman shook his head. "He's not here at the moment."

"He's not on Bear Island?" The singer asked anxiously.

"Forget Bear Island," the youngest interjected, "He's not even in the north. He's sailing the open ocean seas far down south... probably enjoying that pretty Wildling—"

The Singer abruptly stood up,

"I should go now if I want to find an inn before dark," he said, pointing towards the dimming sun rays outside the window.

"Ah! Better hurry then," the fisherman nodded. "There's a good one in the middle of the market. Tell him Ryan sent you. Maybe he'll give you a discount."

"Thank you," the singer said and hurriedly left the tavern.

The moment he stepped a foot outside, all the rowdy noises of the tavern were muffled by the wind, he immediately lowered his head and took off but not towards the centre where the inns were, instead towards the exit of the town.

Only a few dozen minutes later, he had left all the man-made buildings behind him and before long, trees started appearing in his path but the singer didn't stop even for a second and entered the dense forest without hesitation even though the sun was just about to set. It took him about half an hour of brisk walking and climbing before he reached a cave hidden in the mountains.

He immediately sagged in relief as he saw the entrance of the cave and was almost about to enter when his instincts started screaming that something was wrong.

And his fears were realised when he saw his companion, the red-haired lass slowly coming out of the cave, but he noticed that her hands were tied, and a gag muffled her voice. Another girl, around the same age, stood close, holding a dagger to the red-haired girl's throat and guiding her forward.

The red-haired girl's eyes widened as if trying to convey something urgent. Fear and urgency gripped the singer, and he instinctively reached for his sword, but he froze when he suddenly heard a voice behind him, "Ah! Ah! Ah! I wouldn't do that if I were you... Now raise your hands and slowly turn around... That's right, Slow and easy..."

The singer slowly turned around to find a man standing behind with a bow in his hands with an arrow knocked straight at him, "Welcome home singer...or should I say, Mance Rayder, The King-Beyond-The-Wall," the young man said with a smirk on his face.

...

"Take it slowly, Sam," Jon said with a gentle smile as he looked at his new friend stuffing his face, "No one's going to steal the food from you."

They were sitting in a tavern, different from the one that Val went to as she was probably banned from there. Jon had ordered a lot of food for both him and Sam, and the moment it had arrived, the round-faced boy had immediately dug in after a small hesitation.

"I don't know about that," Val said glumly while glaring at Sam with envy in her eyes. Her heart wanted to eat, but her stomach wasn't agreeing.

"I am sorry," Sam said while looking down, afraid to meet their eyes.

"Don't be," Jon said, squeezing the boy's shoulder comfortingly, "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I-It's just my f-father never lets me eat my fill," Sam said, trying to explain, "A-And the Redwyne twins hadn't let me eat since last night so... so I was really hungry."

"Your father doesn't let you eat your fill, and you're already this fat!" Val said in disbelief, "What would happen if he does?" she asked incredulously.

"Shut Up, Val!" Jon groaned at the Wildling who was ruining all his attempts to calm the boy down.

"No, it's alright," Sam said to Jon with a forced smile, "It's nothing I haven't heard before... And Besides it's not like I want to be fat...but no matter what I do or I am made to do I just n-never change—"

"That's just bullshit," Val scoffed, "You're just spoiled! A few days beyond the wall and you'll either survive and become fit or become someone's food, and considering your size... you'll probably feed a whole village of Thenns."

"Ignore her," Jon said in assurance to Sam, who was looking at Val with wide eyes, "And what do you mean, what you're made to do?"

"Mmm... M-My father," Sam said bitterly, "H-He doesn't like that I am this fat, and he has tried everything to make me better...He dressed me in my mother's clothes to humiliate me... a-and forced me to sleep in chainmail, and even once had Quartheen warlocks pour Aurochs blood on me to raise my valour," Sam's voice quivered but still, he maintained his smile, "A dozen master-at-arms...throwing me into the Horn Hill's pond to teach me to swim...he tried everything he could to raise me into what he considered a proper heir...but nothing worked..."

There were a few minutes of silence before Val leaned forwards and fiercely said, "You should just kill that bastard in his sleep and be done with it," and ignoring the boy's horrified gaze, she asked confusingly, "And besides, if you hate it that much, Why didn't you just leave?"

"Where would I go?" he said with a sad shrug, "I am a coward and clumsy and not useful for anything... so who would even want me..."

"You're right about that—"

"Do you want to come with us," Jon suddenly interrupted Val and looked at Sam with a serious expression.

"Come with you?" Sam asked with incomprehension on his face.

"Yes, Travel with me, work for me," Jon nodded before his voice suddenly took on a alluring tone, "You can see the world... Read books from all over Westeros and Essos... meet people from all the kingdoms...see magical wonders like the Wall or the Titan of Braavos and a lot more..."

Sam's eyes immediately lost focus as he started imagining all the things that Jon was making him see. An unconscious smile appeared on his face as he imagined a future where he wouldn't have to be scared of his father, where he could read and eat as much as he wanted and see all the wonders of the world.

"But why would you even want him?" Val interrupted, bringing him back to reality.

"Y-Yeah, she's right...Why would you even want me?" Sam said despondently, "I can't fight to save my life, and I am too slow for any kind of labor, the only thing I can do is read and write..."

"That's enough," Jon said with a small smile while looking into Sam's eyes confidently, "I don't care if you don't have any fighting skills or can't do any physical labor... more than enough people around the world can do those... but you have something else in abundance that is not very common in this world."

"What?" asked Sam and Val simultaneously.

"Your mind," Jon said tapping Sam's temple, "The most dangerous weapon in the world."

Sam's eyes widened as it was the first time someone ever complimented him on something, "So What do you say? Do you want to join us?"

 

[ATP]

So,Jon get Sam and would get Mance.What to do with him? kill? send to Ned? he could not just let him go.He do not have power to decide what to do with wildlings,unless they are prisoners and agree to work for him.

 

[GrimmKenway8646]

Sam's eyes widened as it was the first time someone ever complimented him on something, "So What do you say? Do you want to join us?"

Click to shrink...

Sam the Hard Scholar sounds like a nice adventuring name.

 

[Ahtu]

"I-It's just my f-father never lets me eat my fill," Sam said, trying to explain, "A-And the Redwyne twins hadn't let me eat since last night so... so I was really hungry."


"Your father doesn't let you eat your fill, and you're already this fat!" Val said in disbelief, "What would happen if he does?" she asked incredulously.


"Shut Up, Val!" Jon groaned at the Wildling who was ruining all his attempts to calm the boy down.


"No, it's alright," Sam said to Jon with a forced smile, "It's nothing I haven't heard before... And Besides it's not like I want to be fat...but no matter what I do or I am made to do I just n-never change—"


"That's just bullshit," Val scoffed, "You're just spoiled! A few days beyond the wall and you'll either survive and become fit or become someone's food, and considering your size... you'll probably feed a whole village of Thenns."


"Ignore her," Jon said in assurance to Sam, who was looking at Val with wide eyes, "And what do you mean, what you're made to do?"


"Mmm... M-My father," Sam said bitterly, "H-He doesn't like that I am this fat, and he has tried everything to make me better...He dressed me in my mother's clothes to humiliate me... a-and forced me to sleep in chainmail, and even once had Quartheen warlocks pour Aurochs blood on me to raise my valour," Sam's voice quivered but still, he maintained his smile, "A dozen master-at-arms...throwing me into the Horn Hill's pond to teach me to swim...he tried everything he could to raise me into what he considered a proper heir...but nothing worked..."

Click to shrink...

Soooo, is he literally and magically kept fat, or is he lying/severly exaggerating? Because mark my words, if you don't eat, you will lose weight. No 2-ways about it, your body requires energy just to function, and it has to come from somewhere. If you do not get new energy, you will end up depleting the energy you have, and your fat will get used up.

I'm hoping that this is a magic thing... I don't like the idea of a pathetic, lying truly cowardly version of Samwell Tarly...

I can understand having 0 natural understanding of how to use your body effectively in combat, I can understand being weak to physical pressure. But I have no patience for those who merely pretend and make excuses. Because in our world, what he's describing COULD NOT happen. And that is no exaggeration.

And even now, this is still a real problem. If he magically can't lose weight, and wants to over-eat even more. Then may very well eat himself to death pretty soon.

 

[LazyWizard]

In the hazy memories of his days as a brother of the Night's Watch, Mance could only recall a few moments with absolute clarity. Though raised within the walls of Castle Black from a tender age, his time there was marked by shovelling shit, doing chores and rigorous training. And by the time he was a Man he had already deserted the Watch to live as a free man.

But one of the few things he could remember clearly was a profound conversation he had with the ageing maester of Castle Black, just before he left the Watch.

He had just returned from a Ranging where he was hurt by a shadow cat and then nursed to health by a Wildling woman who also mended his torn cloak with swatches of red silk.

But immediately upon returning to the Wall, Ser Denys Mallister told him to get rid of the cloak and said that he was only allowed to wear black.

This infringement of freedom was too much for the young teen at the time who felt that it was too much and he struggled to understand the Watch's stringent rules, especially the prohibition of love, marriage, and personal freedom. Seeking answers, he turned to the maester, whom he considered one of the wisest men he had ever known.

And he could still remember his wrinkly face as he had told him, "Love is the Death of Duty. When you love someone or something, you'll always have to choose between them or your duty,"

Sacrificing personal desires was the inescapable price for fulfilling their solemn duty to protect the realm.

Of course, he didn't understand him at that time as it wasn't a duty that he had chosen for himself and so he had chosen to break free from the Watch and embrace a life beyond the Wall with the Free Folk. There, he found a sense of belonging and even fell in love with Wildling woman who had saved him and who later became his wife.

But now after all these years, he had chosen a duty of his own, a duty to make sure that everyone beyond the Wall doesn't end up a dead man.

He had looked on as the most faraway tribe started to disappear one after the other, he had seen them kill his friends and raise them as their own. He knew that if someone didn't do anything and didn't gather every one of them together to fight, then eventually they would lose everyone. And everyone he knew and loved would become a part of them.

But he also knew that no 'Someone' was coming to save them, no one cared what happened to the people beyond the wall, and, that no one was going to believe them and help them...

So he decided that he would be the one... the one to unite the tribes and ensure their survival, Mance embraced this new purpose.

And now instead of doing that duty... he was on the other side of the wall on behalf of his wife to find her stupid sister and even though he had tried to make her understand that she was probably dead, his wife wasn't ready to believe it as she said that she felt it in her heart that her sister wasn't dead...whatever that means.

Anyway, one thing led to another as he crossed the wall along with Val's friend Ygritte who was eager to go on an adventure to save her.

And lo and behold miraculously somehow when he went to the town to gather news he found out that the lass was actually alive... just that she was under the clutches of someone named Jon Snow.

So he sighed in relief as he thought that it wouldn't take him long to find her and bring her to his wife. But of course, fate wouldn't be a bitch if she let everything go so smoothly, so just when he thought that he was getting too lucky, he was ambushed by two northerners outside the cave he had made his home.

The one who had him at an arrow point was a young man with brown hair and brown eyes, and a face commonly found in the north. While the one who was holding a knife to Ygritte's throat was a lass even younger than the man, she was a comely girl of about fifteen years of age, which was making it hard for him to believe how she'd even managed to subdue someone like Ygritte.

His mind was running fiercely trying to find a solution to their predicament, his eyes were roaming everywhere trying to find something that would help them.

"Don't look so fierce, Wildling King. We are not here to hurt you or anything," said the man who still hadn't lowered his bow.

"Who are you? And how do you know me?" Mance growled with his most dangerous expression, trying to intimidate the young man and considering his massive size and his broad shoulders it should have worked but the man wasn't phased at all.

"Before I answer any of your questions, why don't we get into a more comfortable situation," the man said with a smile on his face, "Because my arms are going to ache tomorrow if we continue to talk like this," he said while jerking his head to the strung bow in his hands.

"Why don't you lower that then? I promise not to do anything to you and your friend... You have my word as a King," Mance said with a nod, trying to look regal as he said that, hoping that the boy will buy his bullshit.

"Ah! Good try, but I am not as naive as I look... I know that you Wildlings have a very different meaning of what a King is," the young man said, while shaking his head, "What I meant was for you to partake in the guest rights," he gestured towards a plate of bread that had been placed beforehand on a nearby rock, "so that we can have a civilised conversation,"

Mance mulled over his offer for a few moments before he asked, "Why is she gagged and bound?" while pointing towards Ygritted who gritted her teeth.

"Oh! That's not our fault. That girl is too feisty, she wouldn't stay still no matter what we said to her," the man said with a shrug and the girl holding the dagger nodded her head rapidly, while Ygritte glared fiercely at them but she didn't try to move much, "so in the end we had to be a bit rough with her and bind her and as for the gag... Well, she's got a very foul mouth on her and we could just couldn't take it when she started to describe very vividly what she would do to my mother and father when she got free..."

'That sounds like her,' Mance thought before he finally sighed and went toward the bread.

From the looks of it, these two didn't seem to have any intention of harming them at the moment so Mance decided that he would go with the flow for the moment.

The tension in their shoulder seemed to leave for a few moments after Mance took a few bites of the bread. "Now, would you please persuade your friend to do the same," the man with the bow said.

Mance looked towards Ygritte and saw unwillingness and anger in her eyes and knew that the girl wanted nothing more than to get her bow and fill both of them with her arrows but they were not in an advantageous position at the moment so he looked firmly into her eyes and nodded.

Ygritte hesitated for a few seconds before she nodded, and the girl holding the dagger loosened her ropes but didn't lower guard until the red-haired lass had also partaken in a bite of their offerings, only then did she lower her dagger and left her to go stand behind the man who had finally lowered his bow.

Shortly after, all four of them were seated on rocks on two sides of the impromptu meeting spot. The tension in the air was palpable as they exchanged awkward glares and stares. The man with the bow, finally broke the silence, introducing himself "My name is Lawrence Snow and my friend here is Asha," he said while gesturing towards the silent girl who nodded politely, "And don't mind if she doesn't speak... because she can't," he said teasingly and Asha immediately swatted his head.

Mance cleared his throat to get their attention, "You already seem to know me and this fiery lass here is Ygritee," he said while taking a swig of an ale presented by Lawerence, "Now...Answer my question, Who are you? And what do you want with us?"

"Our captain calls us minions, and don't ask me what that means because I don't know it," Lawrence said when he saw Mance open his mouth, "And we are here on behalf of our captain who is also the reason we were on the lookout of anyone looking to cross the wall as he felt that someone would probably be coming to rescue that lass Val—"

"What? You know Val," Ygritte suddenly interrupted him, "What have you done with her? Where is she? If you hurt even a hair on her head, I will kill you!" she said while spitting fire from her eyes.

"Ygritte, Calm down!"

Mance intervened, trying to maintain composure. "I already know she's not in Bear Island and is somewhere down south, so... What do you want from us?"

Lawrence reassured them, "Oh, she's not a hostage or anything if that's what you're worried about. In fact, she was the one who snuck onto a ship, thinking that she'd jump aboard when it passed the wall or something, not knowing that it was moving south," he chuckled. Both Mance and Ygritte groaned as that sounded like the Val they knew.

"As for what we want?" Lawrence said leaning in with a serious expression, "We wants to make a trade deal with you... the King-Beyond-The-Wall,"

"What?" Mance asked with a bizarre expression on his face, "You want to trade with us?"

"Oh, not me!!" Lawrence said shaking his hands before him with a smile, "I wouldn't have even imagined that I would ever sit down and talk with anyone from beyond the wall let alone trade with them, it's our captain who wants it..."

There was silence for a few moments before Ygritte turned to Mance with a confused expression on his face, "Is he mocking us?"

"I am not sure," Mance said to her before he asked Lawrence, "And what exactly does this captain of yours want to trade from us?"

"It really depends on what you can provide," Lawrence continued. "Whatever you can find in that frozen land that could be worth something in the south, we are ready to take. Copper, iron, other metals, and our captain even thinks there might be silver and gold mines out there, so if you can find them, all the better..."

Mance's memory was triggered as he recalled a past encounter when a clansman mentioned finding silver in the mountains. At the time, it had no value to their people as it was useless for making weapons and no one there placed any sort of value on that metal so he had completely forgotten about that, but it seems that now...

"—But of course, even if you can't find those, there are other things we are ready to accept, like pelts and fur of fierce creatures that are only found North of the Wall, such as Direwolves, Mammoths, Snow bears, etc. You know, the animals that people in the South consider legends. And if you can somehow find a few alive cubs, then it would be even better. Finally, if you can't find any of those, then we are even ready to accept good quality wood in abundant quantity," Lawrence finished and took a gulp of water from his pouch, it had taken him a lot of time to remember all the details from Jon's letter, so he was very satisfied that he didn't miss anything.

Mance mulled over everything he had heard for a few minutes before he finally sighed and asked the most important question, "Let's assume for a few moments that I can somehow convince some of the Free Man and Woman to leave their spears and sword behind to pick up saws and shovels... What exactly will you give us in return? Because, if it's money, then it would be useless because it's not exactly valuable out there in a blizzard,"

"Of course, we'll trade with the one thing that you're most in need of," Lawrence said confidently and at their confused expression he smiled, "I am talking about Food!"

Ygritte's face lit up with excitement at the mention of food, but Mance burst into loud laughter, "T-That is very funny," he managed to say amid chuckles, "It is a very good joke, you almost had me for a moment," he said, shaking his head with a smile.

"But it's not a joke though," Lawrence said, amusement in his expression, "I am very serious about trading crops and grains with you."

"Do you take me for some ignorant Wildling, boy? Someone who only knows how to swing their weapon and eat," Mance asked with a raised eyebrow, "Let me tell you something. When you were just a wee little toddler sucking at your mother's teats, I was already travelling across the North and beyond the Wall as a ranger in the Watch. I've travelled to Winterfell, to the land of Umbers, and even to the Dreadfort. I know this place like the back of my hand."

Lawrence opened his mouth to say something, but Mance didn't let him and continued, "You think I don't know what people here go through every winter? Do you think I don't know how many of them starve to death or how many fields get destroyed because of sudden summer snow? And you somehow expect me to believe that you have enough crops left over to trade with the Wildlings," he finished with disbelief on his face.

There was silence for a few moments as the Wildling King finished his rant before Lawrence spoke again, "You've been to Bear Islands before, haven't you?" When Mance nodded his head, Lawrence continued, "So you know about the difference between what it is now and how it was before and the sudden prosperity that has arrived on this island. Do you think this is just a temporary thing or a trick?"

Mance started to reply, but Lawrence didn't let him talk, "No, it's not! You say that you've seen the whole of the North, and I believe you, but have you ever been to the South? Have you ever seen the lush fields of crops in the South, where barely anyone ever goes hungry, where every single farm has more crops than they know what to do with, have you even seen their green forests filled with fruits?" Mance didn't reply, and just stared at the boy, waiting to see where he was going with this, "Where do you think my captain is at the moment?"

"In the place you're talking about, I suppose," Mance said, intrigued.

"Exactly," Lawrence nodded with a gleam in his eyes, "He is out there making deals with the southern nobles so that we too can get those cheap crops so that no one here has to go hungry. And he doesn't intend to stop just there, no, he is planning to go big... From Dorne to Pentos to Lys... eventually, every place that has fertile land will be connected to the North by the sea... So you don't have to worry about us ever running out of food to trade with you."

Finally, Mance started to believe a little that it wasn't all half-rambling of a young man and that it could all be true, but he still had doubts, "Why? Why would he—your captain do this? Why would he go to such lengths for the Free Men of the North or the people you call Wildlings?"

"Of course, for the same reason you became a king," Lawrence said with a knowing smile. He had heard a lot about Mance from Jon and knew the kind of person he was, "Because we know about the truth, the creatures that threaten to destroy all living things, we know the future that awaits us... We know about The Walking Dead."

Mance's eyes immediately widened as he stood up in shock, "What! How?"

"Because we have eyes everywhere," he said mysteriously, and for a moment, Mance's thoughts immediately went to the stories he had heard of the man called the Three-Eyed-Raven, but almost immediately, he dismissed that notion as they were suddenly startled by a hawk soaring towards them from a lush tree behind Lawrence. The hawk came to sit on his shoulders comfortingly while the boy kept looking at them with a smile on his face.

It took Mance embarrassingly long to put the clues together, and when he did, his eyes widened even further as he breathed, "You're a Warg!" He didn't know there were any of those left on this side of the Wall.

"We all are," Lawrence said with a smile, and this time, they were even more startled as a massive bear suddenly stumbled out of the forest. Mance and Ygritte tried to stumble backwards to get away, but the boy stayed put, and the silent girl alarmingly went towards the massive brown bear and started actually petting it, which the bear seemed to like from its expression and low growling.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Ygritte shouted, succinctly putting both their thoughts out.

It took a while before Mance calmed down from these sudden surprises, and when he was finally able to put his thoughts together, he asked Lawrence, "And this captain of yours is obviously one too..." When Lawrence nodded, he continued, "Now it makes me want to meet him even more."

"He says that you've met him before," Lawrence said with a smirk.

"Huh? When?" Mance asked, with a puzzled expression, trying to remember if he had ever met someone like that.

"Do you remember that time when you travelled to Winterfell with Lord Commander Qorgyle to meet Lord Eddard Stark, and you were among the Black Brothers escorting him?" It took him a while, but he eventually remembered that trip and nodded, "Well, he says that you caught him and his brother playing a prank, and when you did, you promised not to tell anyone—"

"Those brats!" Mance exclaimed, "I remember them! They were going to prank not just anyone but Lady Stark... But that means..."

"Yes," Lawrence nodded, seeing the wide-eyed look in Mance's eyes, while Ygritte just looked at them with confusion while occasionally glaring at the mute girl and her bear, "One of those boys was Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell, and the other was our captain, Jon Snow."

"So that brat's already big enough that he becomes a captain and even has people doing his errands," he mumbled to himself with a shake of his head, "I can't wait to meet him then."

"Oh, you don't have to wait," Lawrence said with a mischievous smile, "He's been here all along."

Almost immediately, Mance and Ygritte started to look around the forest vigilantly. They had already been tricked twice, so this time they were going to be prepared... or so they thought. But when something wet touched Ygritte from behind, she looked behind her to find a massive ShadowCat licking her hand and immediately screamed and jumped a meter into the air, "FUCK! SHIT! SHIT! AGH!" she cursed incoherently as she stumbled away from the predator while Mance tried not to have a heart attack as the big cat actually snorted in amusement while going towards the two people from before.

Finished with their pranks and their conversation, Lawrence and Asha started to leave into the trees with a hawk, a bear, and a shadow cat behind them, and the only thing they left behind were the words, "...Remember, we will meet again after three months on your shores beyond the walls, so prepare as many things as you want to trade..."

...

Jon opened his eyes with a mischievous smile on his face, it was quite fun teasing Ygritte who in the other life would have been tickled by the prank on her.

While he had the intention to do something about the people beyond the Wall from the Start, this plan involving Mance and all the Wildlings had only recently taken shape when his minion sent him a letter reporting about two long wildlings entering the North.

It hadn't taken him long to find out who they were and why they were coming, so his mind immediately started spinning a plan that would be his first shot at poking a hole into the White Walkers' conquest plan.

Now, all that was left was to see if Mance managed to convince the wildlings under him, prepare enough things, and bring them to the shore to make his plan feasible.

"Jon!" he heard Dacey call him and stood up from his spot at the planks above on the port, and went towards where she was standing in front of their main ship.

"Are you ready to leave then?"

"Yes," said Dacey, looking behind her at the ship which was fully loaded, "This is the last ship, and everyone's already boarded. I am the last one... So are you really not coming?"

"No, I want to go the Citadel and look into the books there to see if there is some information on a bird I heard about from the people nearby... it is said to be the smallest and the fastest bird in reach, one that is rarely seen... so I hope to find it," Jon explained while looking at the crew members who were waving at him from the ship, "And besides someone needs to be here when our new ships are delivered by the Tyrells,"

"Fine then," Dacey sighed while massaging her head, "It's just that it would be too much work without you. I can already imagine that I wouldn't get a moment's rest..."

"Don't worry, you'll do just fine," Jon said while patting her shoulders consolingly, "Just remember the most important points. The first thing you need to remember is the proper allocation. Two ships will go to Flint's Finger, three ships to Barrowtown, two to Torrhen's Square, one to Stony Shore, and the rest to Bear Island and Deepwood Motte."

Dacey nodded, properly remembering where how many ships filled with crops would be sent. After a few moments, Jon continued, "And another thing you need to make sure of is that no one is to sell anything at more than twice the crop's value—"

"Do we really need to do that?" Dacey interrupted him with a pout, "We won't earn much from that at all. I think that even if we sell them at a bit more, it would still be a lot cheaper than what they are currently buying, so they'll still be grateful."

Jon shook his head and said with a smile, "The people in the North are already not very rich, and we don't really need to earn money from them, especially for food. Besides, there will be enough money coming in the future from selling other things in the South, so money is one thing that we'll never have to worry about."

"Alright," she said with a deflated sigh.

"And you need to pick up enough sailors from our school so that our more veteran sailors can be freed to move to the new Galleons," Jon added.

"Yeah! Yeah, I know," Dacey said before she gave him a hug and started to leave towards the ships, "I'll get going then."

"Safe travels," Jon said, waving his hand as the ship slowly pulled out of the docks. He stayed there watching it drift away until Sam came to him and said, "Jon, the captain says the ship is ready to depart. We should board."

Jon turned to look at the ship they had rented and saw that they had finished loading, so he put his arm around his new friend's shoulder and said with a smile, "Let's go then, and see what the ancient city of Oldtown has in store for us..."

///

 

[Monmonstar]

Cue gray rats saying magic is dead


Jon || magic magic magic go Bbbbbrrrrrr!!!!!!!!

Gray rat || still dead (seeing magic in front of them) still dead