8

 Summary:

The Wild Wolf crosses blades with the southern knights

Chapter Text

Alla, Mira, Elinor, and Megga were walking through the part of the tourney grounds where the tents housed the brave knights who will be competing in the melee later. The area with the tens looked like a small city made from cloth with banners of various houses adorning them. There was the green apple of house Fossoway of New Barell, a golden tree of house Rowan, a purple unicorn of house Brax, the purple lightning bolt of house Dondarrion, the silver arrows of house Hunter, and many more. But the tent they were looking for was the one with the golden rose of House Tyrell.

While they were walking, she was reminiscing about the events from the previous day, she had a good time during their little trip around the city, and she had not forgotten the people that lived in Flea Bottom and that they needed help. It would take some persuasion on her part, but she could make her father give the people what they need the most. The feast was enjoyable for the most part; while she danced with the prince, she even saw her grandmother smile.

The only thing she found odd was Mira and Jon dancing that night. She knew that Mira liked dancing, but she chooses who she danced with carefully and that she never danced with Jon before, declining his offers every time. Mira is good friends with Jon, so she did not see a real reason for the refusals, so once she asked why she did so, Mira refused to give her an answer. She might not know what or why she changed her mind, but she was happy that her friend finally got over whatever was holding her back.

"Here we are," said Alla, and Margaery was brought out of her thoughts. They stood in front of a large green and gold tent with a vast golden rose at its entrance. From inside, they could hear several voices and the rattling of armor being put on.

The group walked in and met the sight of Jon and Loras putting their armor on with the help of their squires, with Garlan standing in front of them.

Garlan turned and looked at them as they came in. "Margaery, come to wish these sad sobs a good fortune in the melee," Garlan said half mockingly.

"Indeed, brother I have, we all did actually."

"Well, they are going to need it."

"I'm going to need not luck," Loras said as the squire put one last piece of his armor on him.

"Trust me, you are going to need it if Smalljon or the Strongboar hit you in the head," said Jon.

"They are not going to get a chance," replied Loras.

"Let's hope one of them doesn't hit you in the face because that's all you really have besides your ego," Garlan said with a smile.

"I have many fine qualities besides my face, brother, and don't you forget that."

"Oh, I won't."

The fitting of the armor was done for both. Loras wore an ornate green and gold armor decorated with several roses, while Jon wore green and gray armor like one Loras wore but with a bit fewer details and a wolf's pelt around his shoulders. Both had their swords in their hands; Loras was a castle forged blade with a rose on the hilt, while Jon wielded a sword her father gave him as a gift a few years ago. The long sword has a snarling wolf's head as a pommel. Jon loved that sword so much that he barely took it out of its chest back at Highgarden, so seeing that he was going to use it in this tourney was a bit of a surprise.

She looked at Jon, "You are really going to use it?"

Jon looked at the sword. "Yes, it's been sitting in my room for too long; a sword should be used, not just be there to gather dust. And besides, if there is the slightest chance, I might lose it to pretty boy here might as well use it."

"It's going to be mine by tomorrow's end," Loras said proudly.

"Not if I can help it," Jon replied.

"We will see who gets the sword tomorrow; today, just try to keep your heads down."

"We will try," Jon said with a smirk, "Won't we, pretty boy?"

"Aye, we will," Loras said with a smirk as he looked at Jon.

"Well, we came here to wish you both luck out there today, and please be careful both of you; I would hate to see you get hurt."

"Don't worry, Margaery, we won't," Loras said in a reassuring voice, and she gave him a satisfied smile in return. She loved both and could not stand seeing either of them hurt or worse due to something like a damn melee. Then she looked at Jon.

"He is right; we will be fine." He might say that, but she was honestly scared for his life, especially after he told her about the run-in he had with the queen's brother after he and Arya left. When he told her about the accidents, her mind started to think about all the possible things that could go wrong during the fight, which got her even more worried about his life than before.

"The melee will start soon, so I suggest you two better get going," Garlan said to Loras and Jon.

"Aye, we should," Jon said, and her group of ladies moved to the side to let the two brave men pass.

Jon came closer to her, "Jon, stay safe." she said in a concerned tone.

"I will, I promise." he gave her one last reassuring smile and put his green and gray helmet on.

"Good luck." each of the girls said.

As Jon was passing by Mira, she looked at him, "Take care out there, Jon."

"I will, Mira, don't worry."

Moments later, the two were gone leaving them in the tent with only Garlan.

"Come, there is no point lingering here; let's get to the stands and watch." She nodded, and they all started following him to the stands.

Loras

The two of them were making their way to the melee arena, their armor shining as they walked, a real shame it would get all dirty and pounded by swords in a matter of minutes. As they walked, he noticed that Jon was silent, more than usual.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"Nothing, just thinking about the melee," Jon replied.

"Jon, I know when something is on your mind, so tell me." Jon did not say anything. He just pressed on. "This is about the Kingslayer, isn't it?"

Jon turned his head to him, "You know?"

"Margaery told me this morning she was worried, and I can see that she is still worried."

"I know that I'm good in a fight, but I can't shake the feeling that he will try something."

He put his hand on Jon's shoulder, and they stopped. "Don't worry, the Kingslayer is not participating in the melee, and even if he does try something, I will be there to guard you back."

"Thank you, Loras."

"Besides, if you get hurt or get kicked out early, then there would be no real point in participating in this melee." Both started laughing. He loved Jon like a brother, and if anyone tried to hurt him, they would have to go through him first; he won't let anything happen to Jon out there today.

As the two continued to laugh, a voice was heard from behind them, "Well, if it isn't the bastard."

Both he and Jon turned around to see two freckled, orange-haired men standing in front of them.

"Horas and Hobber Redwyne," Jon said.

"Aye, and you better stay out of our way during the melee, bastard, or we will have to put you in your place."

"Get a grip of it, you two," Loras said as he crossed his arms. "You better scurry off, or I will have to repeat the lesson Jon taught you at Oldtown.

"Stay out of this Loras; this does not concern you," Hobber said, or is it Horas, he can never tell.

"It concerns me a great deal, actually."

"Enough, If you wish a fight, I suggest you save it for later when we are in an actual arena," said Jon. "Or would you prefer I just knock you out here where there are fewer spectators?"

"Watch your tongue, bastard." one of the twins growled.

"We will meet you on the field, and we will put you in your place for good. A bastard thinking, he is on the same level as trueborn, who has heard of that." With that, the twins made their way to them and pushed their way through them, grazing Jon's arms with their shoulders.

"I really don't like those two," Jon said.

"I know, come on, let's repeat the lesson from Oldtown for them," Loras said, and they continued their way.

As they entered the melee grounds, he could see some of the other participants they will be facing. He immediately noticed the two giants in full armor, the Strongboar, and Smalljon Umber; gods know who would win if those who clashed. There was also Dacey Mormont standing beside Smalljon and the Karstark and Hornwood, a man he identified as Robar Royce, his father Yohn, Patrek Mallister, Thoros of Myr, and a large number of Freys. Of course, the Freys would come in number; that was the only thing they had.

Jon leads them to where the northern party was standing. "Smalljon, Dacey."

The northerners turned their attention from future opponents to them. "Jon!" Smalljon shouted.

"It's good to see you two," said the Karstark.

"Aye, you too," he and Jon replied.

"Looks like this won't be easy," said Jon as he looked around.

"It shouldn't be; the difficulty only makes it more fun," said Dacey as she lifted her Mace and put it on her shoulder.

"Well, I wish you all good fortune today," said Jon.

"Aye, to you two as well," said Smalljon.

"Know that if we meet, we won't hold ourselves back." said the Hornwood.

"We don't expect you two," Loras said.

Then the herald came to a platform and started to speak. "Noble lords and ladies, people of the realm, I welcome you to the melee of the hand's tourney in the name of our good King Robert I Baratheon." Loras looked at the royal lodge where the king and queen were sitting, the king having an anxious look on his face while the queen had her typical unamused look on hers. As the herald continued to talk, Loras did not pay much attention; instead turned his head to Jon.

"How do we do this, the usual?" he asked.

"Aye, like always," Jon answered, and Loras nodded.

"Now let the melee begin!" the herald shouted, and the battle began.

He turned around and positioned himself behind Jon, their becks now almost pushing against each other. "Let's win this," said Loras as he blocked an incoming attack from an unfamiliar knight.

Jaime

He was standing behind the fat oaf and his sister; it was his shift to guard the king during the melee. Robert needed to be talked out of participating by Ser Barristan and Eddard Stark; the fat moron had not the skill nor the coordination he once had, so if he joined the fight, he would have lost easily; on the other hand, Robert getting knocked on his ass would be something to see. The man who disrespected his sister at every turn, the man who did nothing but whore and drinking himself into a stupor. Rhaegar should have been king; he should be sitting on the iron throne, Aegon and little Rhaenys should be alive.

He sighed; there is no point reminiscing about the past and what could or should have been. The reality is that the Targaryen's are dead, he is played his part in their demise, and now his sister is queen thanks to what he and his father did. He can still see the dead bodies of Elia and her children wrapped in Lannister cloaks. He did not believe that his father would do something so cruel, and that proved just how little he knew; Tywin Lannister proved that there is not a low that he would not stoop to get what he wants.

He looked at the fat king who was deep in his cups already, impatiently waiting for the melee to start. Then he looked at his sister, the one good thing to come out of all the chaos, he was finally with the woman he loved.

"Are they waiting for the father to come personally?" Robert asked with a raised voice; the man honestly had little patients when it came to anything, even less so when it came to fighting. He looked at Cersei, who watched Robert with contempt; she hated the man more than he ever could. The field filled with contestants quickly, and soon then the herald finally came out to the field and greeted the participants before explaining the rules of the melee.

"Poor fools." he thought. "If he was there, he would take the day in a matter of minutes." The only man that can beat him is Barristan, and he is not participating. The opportunity to teach that bastard boy a lesson was a good reason enough, but he had to guard the king, and Barristan said no when he asked to be relieved of his duty for the day.

Thinking about the bastard made him look around and see that he was indeed there beside the Knight of Flowers and more northern savages. One of them could give Clegane a run for his money. The bastard will lose, that is certain, and he will enjoy watching it.

As the herald continued to speak, Robert got up from his chair and started shouting, "For god's sake, enough talking, get on with it so we can watch these men fight." The herald nodded, and Robert sat back into his chair and took another sip from his cup. Soon enough, the fight began.

Bronze Yohn fought a man from house Orme, his son merely a few steps beside him fighting a Leygood, Thoros only watched for a few seconds before he lit up his flaming sword and charged into the fray looking for his first opponent, but most he came across just got out of his way until Patrek Mallister clashed his sword with him.

One of the Redwyne twins was fighting one of the Freys while the other Freys were trying to use their number to their advantage and ganged up on a knight he knew as Bryce Caron.

He searched for the bastard and the rose and found them fighting back to back against two opponents. It looks like the strategy is to fight together and see how long they hold up—a foolish plan and one that will not last long in this fight.

Margaery

Margaery sat with her family, her father, and Garlan, barely able to contain their excitement over the upcoming melee; she wasn't as keen on it as she was about the joust. She looked around the crowd and saw the king and queen sitting there; the king seemed as excited as her father was as he began to drink while the queen wore the usual bored expression she wore every night.

"On whom did you bet, father?" Garlan asked.

"On Loras, of course, you?"

"I put my money on Jon," Garlan said with a smile.

"You bet against your brother?" grandma asked.

"Jon is better of the two, so yes," Garlan said, and her grandmother just nodded and turned her attention back to the field.

"Well, whoever of them wins, we will be proud of them, won't we, Mace?" her mother asked.

"We will, my love." father said with his usual smile, to which grandma made a sound of disapproval.

She looked at the field where she could see many knights from all the realm competing for the glory and reward that came with it. Looking around, she was lady Dacey knocking a man to the ground with a hit from her Mace.

The Karstark was fighting a knight from house Thorne while the Hornwood was fighting a Farring. She looked for Smalljon and found him battering Lyle Crakehall.

Jon and Loras were using their usual strategy of fighting as a team until there were fewer opponents to fight. Loras quickly making short work of his opponent and made him yield, and so did Jon, but soon enough, they were attacked again, this time a man with a long ax and a sword and shield.

A member of the Kingsguard was even fighting Ser Arys Oakheart was facing off against Ser Ronald Gaunt and had the man in the dirt in moments.

She turned her attention to where they were sitting; her ladies were all looking on with excitement and worry as Jon and Loras faced off against everyone else. Samwell sat there with them and looked on with concern while his father sat on the other end, stoic faced as ever. Her father and lord Eddard were both quiet, carefully watching their sons fight through the mass. It really seemed like her father and lord Eddard had a good relationship with each other.

Garlan snickered as Jon knocked the man with the ax on his back, kicking the weapon away and putting the edge of his sword to the man's throat.

"T-They are doing good so far," Sam said.

"Aye, they are but let us hope it stays that way. They never fought most of the men fighting here today, and that gives them a big disadvantage," said Garlan.

"B-but they will win, won't they?" Sam asked.

"We will see," Garlan said as he crossed his arms.

What Garlan said made her more worried than she was before. Jon and Loras were both capable fighters, but they never fought or even seen most men here fight. Men like the Strongboar and Thoros of Myr had a reputation for a reason, and seeing the red priest wield his flaming sword did little to alleviate her fears.

Barristan

He was sitting with his fellow Stormlanders, watching the melee going on. There were men with talent and those with none. In the old days, Gerold would use an opportunity like this to seek potential recruits for the Kingsguard, but does days were gone; now, the new members of the Kingsguard were chosen at a whim. The men sitting beside him were excitedly watching the fights and cheering for their selected champion.

The king was more than excited, he and Lord Eddard barely managed to talk him out of joining the melee himself, and he needed to do the same to Ser Jaime. He knew well about the animosity between the new lord hand and his fellow member of the Kingsguard, which seemed to be carried over to the lord's children, and letting the man participate in the melee could bring nothing good.

Returning his gaze to the field, he saw that two of the north men were thrown out of the fight and that the Strongboar was clashing with the northern giant while the lady was fighting a man from house Brax. Bronze Yohn was fighting Thoros, and by the looks, the Knight of the Vale was losing.

What surprised him somewhat was the duo that the young Tyrell and Ned Starks bastard made, fighting side by side against everyone. He heard tales about them, but this was the first time he actually saw them fight, and he was impressed not just by their skill but also by their comradery.

What also surprised him was the hand was not sitting at the northern stand or with the king but with the Tyrells but considering that his son was fostered by Mace Tyrell, it was only a small surprise.

The crowd cheered, and he quickly turned to see what had happened, Thoros knocked Bronze Yohn to the ground, and the man yielded. The red priest promptly moved to his next opponent, Ser Arys.

Strongboar wielded his greatsword with great skill and strength, and the northerner was not to be taken lightly either. The two were almost matched in size and strength. The northerner tried to slash across the Strongboar's left arm, but the Crakehall managed to parry it and push the Umber back with a hit of his shoulder. This seemed to agitate the Umber, and the man charged forward to bring his sword down hard only to be blocked by Strongboar.

Jon

The damn Freys decided to go for him and Loras; the fact that they had still here baffled him. Two of them attacked simultaneously, and he managed to parry one and block the other, kicking the second one in the chest and pushing him back so he could focus on the first Frey. The man tried to feint an attack on the right to read the attack quickly and block on the left. Seconds later, the man was without his sword lying on the ground.

"Yield!" he said.

"I yield, I yield." the Frey said, and he quickly returned his attention to the second one.

This one posed even less of a challenge and was out of the arena in a blink of an eye. Leaving only one more on his side and three that Loras was currently occupied with.

Loras

Everywhere he looked, Freys, there indeed was no end to them. One of them charged at him, and he only moved to the side and hit the man with his sword on the back; he turned around only to be hit once again, this time on the chest.

"I yield." the Frey said.

"I accept your yield Ser," he said with a small bow and returned to the other two.

The first one yielded after two hits in the head and the other one after four consecutive strikes to the arms. He looked around for a second to see Jon still with him fighting a hedge knight; seeing his friend with him relieved him of his worry, then he heard a voice.

"Are you going to stare at him all day, or are we going to fight?" he turned around to see Dacey.

Loras smiled beneath his helm. "A knight does not fight a lady..."

"Don't give me that crap," she said, annoyed.

"But you are no ordinary lady now, are you?"

"No, I'm not," she said and swung her Mace towards his head, which he barely missed.

Arya

Her brother was fighting a man her father said was Balon Swann, the Knight was good, but it seemed like Jon was pushing the man into a corner. Without anywhere to go, Jon attacked relentlessly, and the Knight's weapon was out of his hand, and Jon's sword was pointed at his neck.

"I yield," Balon said.

"Thank you, Ser, that was a good fight." she heard Jon say.

"Aye, it was." and the man-made his way out of the arena.

Dacey Mormont was fighting Ser Loras, and honestly, she did not know who to root for; on the one hand, Dacey was a northerner, and she liked the woman; on the other hand, Loras was Jon's friend, and she was starting to like him also even if he was an arrogant pretty-faced knight.

Her father barely moved during the fighting, only observing it and responding to Lord Maces' comments from time to time.

She heard her sister make a concerned yelp as Dacey's Mace clashed with Lorass sword.

"Gods, I hope she does not hurt him," she said.

"So, what if she does? This is foolish; you can't win if you don't fight."

"I know it's just..."

"Well, seeing Loras gets knocked on his ass by a lady would be something to see," Garlan said with a chuckle.

Eddard

There were fewer and fewer competitors on the field, the only ones remaining were Smalljon, Lyle Crakehall, Thoros, Jon, Loras, Dacey, Arys Oakheart, one of the Redwyne twins, and Robar Royce.

The two giants were still fighting, and the crowd seemed to love it, the sight of two giants clashing. Thoros was fighting Ser Arys, the Redwyne was moving towards Jon while Robar was looking around to see who was to be his next opponent.

He was honestly more than a bit concerned for Jon and even Ser Loras. Every man here wanted nothing more than to win, and he knew that Smalljon wouldn't really hurt Jon, but he wasn't so sure about someone like the Strongboar.

Robert watched the whole thing with excitement, his foster brother always like nothing more than to fight and drink.

The crowd cheered as ser Arys yielded to Thoros. "Let's hope that that flaming blade does not get too close to Jon." he thought.

Peter Baelish

This tourney cost the crown a small fortune. Ever since his dual with Brandon Stark, he ceased to see the point of two men hacking at each other for someone's amusement, but that was the only thing that brought the king joy beside whores, and who was he to deny the king what he wanted.

The crowd watched the two giants clash, each refusing to lose to the other. He had to admit, they had the strength but no real brains, by the looks of it.

Once Arys Oakheart was beaten, the noble Robar Royce took his place fighting against the red priest.

What intrigued him was the Tyrell and the bastard beside him. He heard stories about the Knight of the flowers and the bastard of Winterfell. The boy being sent to Highgarden after the Greyjoy rebellion and, over the years, rose to become one of the best tourney fighters in the Reach.

Most of the Tyrells had nothing against the boy once he arrived, all but lady Olenna, who by what he heard was not too pleased with having a bastard roaming around her castle.

The boy was good with a sword. That much was obvious.

Jon

"Bastard!" he heard someone shout. He looked to see one of the Redwynes charging at him. Their swords clashed, helms only inches apart. "You are going to eat dirt once I'm done with you, bastard."

"Let's see if you can," he said and pushed them apart. The Redwyne circled around him slowly before attacking again, only for him to dodge the attack. The Redwyne struck several more times, with each blow being dodged.

"Fight coward," Hobber said, and Jon could notice that the man was panting. This was his chance.

He went on the offensive, attacking with several quick blows to the arms and legs. He tried to gain a hit on the head, but Hobber managed to block his attack. The Redwyne attacked again, only for Jon to move out of the way and send a quick and hard blow to the man's head, which sent him falling to the ground.

"Yield!" he ordered.

"I yield, but this isn't over, bastard."

"I think it is."

As he looked around, he could see that Royce had been beaten by the red priest, and the same was true of Smalljon.

"I'm going after the priest." he heard Loras say as he passed him.

"Wait, Loras," he shouted, but his friend did not listen.

"Thoros!" Loras shouted, and they clashed swords.

He looked behind him to see if Dacey was alright, who was currently get up from the ground.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Aye, I'm fine. The bugger caught me by surprise; he is good."

"Aye, he is." Jon looked at Loras as he fought Thoros.

"Good luck Jon," she said.

"Thank you, Dacey."

The Strongboar

Only four of us remained the crazy priest, the flower, the bastard, and him. The fight with the Umber took longer than he had anticipated, but it was a good one, and it was a long time since he fought someone close to his size. In the end, he had to headbutt the northerner, hit him with his sword three times in the head and shoulder, and pull his legs under him to make him yield.

The flower was fighting the priest, which only left the bastard wolf for him to fight against. Honestly, he was impressed by the bastard for making it this far; the boy proved to have some skill. The bastard noticed that he was looking at him.

"Shall we?" the boys asked.

"You are brave and foolish," Thoros said to the boy.

"There is a little difference between those two." the bastard said and started moving towards him.

The boy tried to slash at his left leg, but he managed to block it with ease and pushing the boy back.

"Is that the best you got?"

The boy laughed, "Not even close." and he attacked again.

Photos

He loved this, fighting a worthy opponent with the crowd cheering you on; while there was no better feeling than being between the legs of a good woman, this came a close second. The Tyrell boy was tough as they came, and he enjoyed fighting someone on his skill.

"Getting tired old man?" the boy said arrogantly.

"I can do this for hours, boy."

"Be careful what you wish for, priest." the boy said and brought his sword towards him once more, blocking it with his flaming blade.

Barristan

The red priest was relentless; his strikes looked wild and random, but to anyone who with skill could recognize that this was a dance and Thoros was the Master of It. Ser Loras was skilled and blocked and parried the priest's attacks, but the boy was young, and his lack of actual battle prowess was starting to show, not to mention the over-exaggerated movements did him no real good in a fight with a seasoned fighter like Thoros.

The priest's sword came crashing down once more, the flames growing higher; the Tyrell tried to move back, but it was too late, and as Barristan watched the flame get close to the young man's helm, he shuddered, Ser Loras in moving back to avoid the fire had given Thoros the opening he needed, and in seconds the Knight was on the ground, and within seconds more had yielded as Thoros pointed the flaming sword at this chest. It only left to see who would face the priest in the final, Lyle Crakehall or Jon Snow.

Jaime

Watching Tyrell get his ass kicked by the drunken priest was fun. All that remained now was for Lyle to give the bastard few strong hits and throw him out of the melee. The bastard was lucky to have lasted this long as it is.

Lyle swung his greatsword at the boy once again, but the bastard dodged it and quickly hit the bigger man on the shoulder. He watched the fight go on, Lyle swinging and slashing with all his strength, but the boy either avoided it or managed to block it; he also seemed to be picking up speed.

"The boy is good, really good." the king said with a laugh while Jaime stayed quiet.

He could barely believe it; Lyle swung his sword towards the boy's left arm only for the bastard to dodge it and quickly moved behind the large man scoring three consecutive strikes to the man's knees, which made one give away. Then the bastard moved back to the front again and hit the chest, shoulder, and arm hard. He put the sword to Lyle's throat.

"Yield."

"I yield." the Strong boar said, and the boy helped him up.

"I guess that only leaves us," Thoros said.

"It seems it does." the bastard said, and the priest charged at him.

Garlan

Garlan knew that his brother would not be the winner of this melee; there were just too many fighters with more experience, talent was not enough in a fight. He's showing off might have given the crowd a good spectacle, but it had proven to be a grave mistake when fighting against someone like Thoros of Myr. Garlan saw at least two opportunities that Loras could have used against the priest if he had not shown off, but now it does not matter, he lost, and he might learn something from it.

Jon was the one facing off against the priest, and after holding back for most of the fight, this was the fight Garlan knew would put Jon to the test.

He watched as the priest swung low and high, sweeping arcs, feints, and parries, but Jon stayed strong and matched the priest at every turn.

The fight continued for what felt like hours but was much shorter. The crowd cheered the two fighters on the Reach, North, and Stormlands for Jon while the people of the Crownlands and other kingdoms cheered for Thoros.

He heard Margaery and the rest of the girls gasp in worry as Thoros pushed Jon back, again and again, nearly cleaving off his head with a devastating swing.

Lord Eddard stayed silent, but he could see the look of worry on his face as well as on his father.

"Come on, Jon!" his father shouted.

"Yeah, Jon, you can beat him!" Jon's little sister Arya shouted as well.

After a moment of respite, Jon went on the offensive and got a few good hits on the priest, but this seemed to only make the priest fight harder. After several strikes of his flaming sword, Jon found himself on the ground, his sword barely out of Reach. The priest started lowering his sword down on Jon. The crowd gasped in shock and awe as Jon caught the flaming sword in his armored hand's inches from his head. Several people got up and watched the sight in front of them standing, including the king.

"Did you see that?" he could hear the king shout, "Ned's boy!"

The red priest looked on as surprised as everyone else before Jon let go of the sword, kicked the priest back with his leg, and rolled over to pick up his blade. Then Jon moved with all his speed and managed to score another hit on the man's shoulder and head before he could recover. Jon took a step back to allow the man to get back up. Thoros pulled himself up, but it was apparent he was exhausted. The priest took off his helm and looked at Jon.

"That was a good fight boy, you have a fire in you. I yield." the priest said just as the flames on his sword went out.

"I thank you, sir, I look forward to facing you again," Jon said.

"Aye, me too," Thoros replied.

The king laughed loudly. "Ned's boy, I knew he would win."

"Lord, ladies, people of the realm, I give you the winner of the hand's tourney Ser Jon Snow." the herald announced, and the crowd cheered for the victor, the one who cheered the hardest was probably the king himself, followed by his father, Lord Mace. Jons sisters, Margaery, and her ladies cheered excitedly while lord Eddard just sat there with a look of relief on his face.

"JON, JON, JON." he could hear a group of people shouts. He looked at them and saw his brother Loras, lady Dacey, Beric, Smalljon, and other Northmen with them, all with happy expressions on their faces.