Chapter 17
========== Chapter 17 ==========
The situation was not good, to say the least. There was no one around, except for the two Tyrell guardsmen twenty meters behind him. So if Jon's inappropriate response was an insult, it was certainly not a public one. He could only hope that the girl would act like a lady in this situation. There were few options: she could just ignore the inappropriate treatment, change the subject, or make a joke of it. The main thing was that the girl would not be "offended".
Contrary to John's expectations, she didn't look angry. Instead of wrinkling her nose and speaking angrily or turning around and walking away, she covered her mouth with her palm and laughed quietly. A feigned blush touched her cheeks.
- The last time I was called that nickname was three years ago," she said. - Wolfie, is that really you?
Snow breathed a sigh of relief - there were no problems on the horizon, and the identity of the girl had been established. He took a closer look at the girl, and there was no trace of the chubby eight-year-old girl he'd met five years ago in Lannisport.
She was slender and lovely, her brown hair waterfalling to her waist, and she was a little shorter than John. Her eyes were incredibly large, like two pools of water. Her figure was already beginning to take on the right roundness, and the girl herself was about to blossom finally. Even so, there was already a lot for the eye to linger on and admire, the lower roundnesses were already quite nice. She was dressed in a dress with a pattern of golden roses, and it was too revealing: sleeveless, high collar, and her back was almost completely bare. Northern ladies, and probably most others, would have said that only fallen women dressed like that.
- Yes, it's me, Marjorie. It's good to see you," she laughed again, remembering how she'd taught the boy to pronounce her name correctly, but he'd stubbornly pretended he couldn't.
- Margery," she corrected him.
- I know," he answered her with a smile.
- You're not upset about the defeat? - She asked, stepping closer.
- Every young man would be upset about losing. But I have no other negative emotions about it. Your brother was incredibly skillful, so it's neither embarrassing nor shameful to lose to him.
- Would you like to take a little walk? - Margaery asked.
- A knight cannot refuse a lady's request, - Snow gallantly gave the girl his hand. - Not for long, - if Margaery felt discomfort from the fact that the guy stinks of sweat, she obviously did not show it.
The pair walked slowly toward town. Jon noted that twenty or thirty meters behind them were Tyrell guardsmen, and Claw said that there were a couple more just ahead, dressed as commoners. Still, a High Lord's daughter doesn't walk around without a proper guard.
- What do you think of the Expanse? - she began with a neutral topic.
- It's warm and beautiful, green and snow-free.
- The Northman misses the snow," she smiled.
- You don't even know how much! - he said, deliberately serious. - Just imagine: you come out of the tent in the morning, you think that now you will bend down, scoop up the snow, and you can wash your face, but there is grass! Grass, Margaery! Can you believe it?
- What a treacherous grass, confusing to visitors from the North," she played along.
- It's also very warm here and they stare at us all the time," John pointed out.
- The Northerners are rare visitors to the Expanse, and that's why there's so much interest in you, and it's worth noting that it's been justified. Your victory surprised almost everyone in the box: Garlan is a fine swordsman.
- He could have won if he had rushed into battle before I realized his level.
For the next fifteen minutes of the walk they chatted about the past years. Jon briefly recounted his upbringing on the island, away from his ancestral home, and how the island had been raided by wildlings and pirates. Margaery talked about life in Highgarden, mostly about how she'd stopped being teased and how past abusers had turned into jealousies just after the girl had gotten prettier.
Passing commoners, and not only them, bowed respectfully when they saw the girl and smiled sincerely in her direction. It turned out that all this was the result of her hard work to win the love and respect of her subjects. Margaery and her entourage regularly visit the markets and buy fresh fruits and vegetables from simple merchants. She also makes impressive charitable donations to orphanages, almshouses, septs and, in general, wherever there is a need. A colorful entourage of "friends", servants and guards does a good job of drawing attention to the whole thing. She even managed to get John to escort her to one of these outings.
- You know, I've been meaning to ask..." she said when it became clear that the walk was about to end.
- Ask.
- Is it true what they say...
The girl was prevented from finishing by the previously discussed older brother. Garlan Tyrell came out from around the corner of one of the houses and, apparently, was not very happy about his younger sister's company. His face grimaced as if he had just eaten a whole lemon with the peel. Almost the same sour face he had when he redeemed his armor. He had paid fifteen gold dragons for them. And the Knight of Flowers forgave John his debt right on the ring, a noble act that earned him even more love from the crowd, if such a thing is even possible.
- Margaery, step away from the bastard," he addressed his sister.
- But, brother, we were just taking a walk," she replied, but instead of answering, he took her hand tighter and tried to pull her away.
- You shouldn't go out with strange men without me or Loras accompanying you, much less bastards.
- You're hurting me, Garlan! - Margaery almost exclaimed before he released her hand.
The girl looked at the red mark on her skin left by her brother's palm. The young Tyrell let herself be led away, giving Jon an apologetic smile. He only smiled back, gesturing that it was all right. After walking a dozen meters, the girl felt a strange warmth where the trail had been. Margaery looked at her hand again, but it was perfectly normal, as if Garlan hadn't clutched it in his iron grip. She turned around, but John was already out of sight.
- Interesting," she said, turning to herself.
***
Vel was eating breakfast on the balcony of the lodge with Daisy and the part of the Northmen that had woken up a little later today. John was practicing downstairs in the courtyard, he always woke up before them and slipped away, the free woman sometimes feeling as if he were awake.
- What are you thinking about? - Dacey asked her.
- About the fact that it's much nicer here than in Staromest.
- And it's prettier, and we don't get verbally abused by everyone," Dacey added.
- For now," one of the guardsmen said cheerfully, drinking his food.
- When are you going to bow to the important lords? - The wildling asked.
- In a couple days. It's different in Spaceland than it is in the Outlands or the North. We need to make a name for ourselves and impress the lords here.
- John lost last night, so it's a bad situation.
- Not as bad as it was in the Dark Forest," Daisy smiled.
- That's true.
- There's a general fight," Vel looked at Dacey questioningly, indicating that she was waiting for an explanation. - In short, it's a battle that involves a hundred or more fighters, each with their own weapons. At the end, there's only one winner.
- And John can win it?
- When I was in it, I managed to hold on almost to the very end and was in the top ten. I'm sure John can do it. He beat me a long time ago.
- When can we watch the action?
- Tomorrow.
The girls didn't notice how, having finished training, John joined them. The guy held a piece of paper in his hands and did not take his eyes off it.
- What is it? - Dacey asked.
- 'A reason to buy you a new expensive southern dress,' John replied.
- What do you mean?
- You and I are invited to join in and watch the tournament from the lodge.
- Yesterday they did without you, and today they need you there, yes, logically," Vel arched an eyebrow.
- "The more 'nobles' there are, the more Lord Mace can indulge his ego. Though maybe Dacey or I will have a 'chance' meeting with someone interested in talking.
- Can't we just talk to you?
- We don't know them, they don't know us. It's not clear what we can talk about or offer each other, and a "casual" meeting would allow us to get to know each other better and scout things out. That's the way business is done around here.
- Fucking Southerners," Vel rolled her eyes, causing everyone in the room to laugh.
- And you're coming with us, too," John smiled at her.
- What's that for?
- Think of it as punishment for grumbling too much," the boy's eyes lit up with excitement.
- You know I don't like it.
- But you're good at it.
- R-r-r!
...
Three hours later, just in time for the appointed time, John and Dacey arrived at the ring, escorted by a pair of Mormont guardsmen. The girl was wearing a burgundy dress made in the southern manner. You wouldn't find anything like it in the north, the weather conditions were different, but it was worth noting that the new dress suited the northerner, emphasizing all the lovely curves of the girl's figure. Dacey even received a few glances from the local men. John was wearing a black camisole, a color that always suited him.
No sooner had they entered the tent than the lady of the occasion came up to them and, after greeting and introducing herself, took Dacey under her arm and dragged her away, forming a new group of giggling girls. The young Mormont was clearly expecting John's help in this situation, but she didn't get it, so she had to spend the next couple hours in the company of the "southern fools." Snow only smiled wryly at her indignant look and could almost clearly hear the northern woman's quiet curses, including "fuck", "seventh scorcher" and "little bastard".
The first bouts of horsemanship had begun. John saw the maidens pelting Dacey with questions, probably mistaking her for some strange animal. But she could keep her face and behave properly in noble society, so there should be no problem. John sat apart, no one approached him and did not speak to him, though he aroused a certain interest. After nearly an hour, a familiar, limp, brown-haired young man sat down beside Jon. He, like Snow, was clearly bored with the festivities and sat next to him, probably because he didn't want to limp through the guests to his seat.
- Well, Lord Tyrell, I'm glad I'm not bored here alone," Jon addressed him.
- Do we know each other? - Willas asked him.
- My name is Jon Snow. We met once before at the Lannisport tournament festivities. If you remember, we talked in the library.
- I remember my sister talking about her new friend, which annoyed Garlan and me," Willas said, smiling.
- And my little sister didn't believe me when I told her I'd met a real lady and called me a liar.
- Do you regret that you can't continue your participation? - Willas asked, pointing his cane toward the ring.
- Not so much. Besides, there's a general fight left.
- Don't you think it might be too dangerous?
- People die in jousting, it just doesn't happen that often. Besides, to the Northmen, the winner of a general fight is better than any tournament knight. How would you like to compete in a spearfight?
- I've already had a memorable debut, after which I can't compete in tournaments," Willas replied, pointing to his injured leg. John noted the sadness in his eyes, even if he was bored, he would not mind participating.
- How did it happen? - John asked with interest.
- Briefly, I was knocked out of the saddle, but I caught my foot in the stirrup. The horse fell on me and shattered my leg bones.
- Was it your mistake, or did your opponent intentionally contribute to your injury?
- My father contributed more than my opponent. He put me in the ring too early, I guess he wanted to get a second Leo Longspike. But he ended up with a crippled heir.
- I see the Maesters couldn't help you.
- My father and grandmother repeatedly went to the Citadel, and you can't imagine the treatments I've undergone, but as you can see, they were all to no avail.
- What if I told you I knew a way to help you?
- Then, like your little sister, I'd call you a liar.
- But she was wrong in the end," Snow pointed out.
- Is that why you came to Highgarden?
- I came here on Lord Mormont's orders to solve a problem. Nothing more.
- They say you're a sorcerer. Is that the kind of help you're offering?
- They say Tywin Lannister defecates gold. And Faith dislikes sorcerers even more than she dislikes bastards. A sorcerer wouldn't make them any angrier with his magic. At least not until the conflict is settled," Jon hinted thickly.
- And a sorcerer could help me?
- Where science can't help, magic can. My position is precarious, and I wouldn't offer what I don't have, especially not to an heir of the Expanse. I'm a bastard, but I'm not an idiot.
- I will consider your offer.
- Did I offer you anything? - John said, feigning surprise.
- No," Willas replied tactfully.
Daisy's day was not so productive: she spent most of her time chatting with the local ladies, not even able to watch the fights properly. Lady Margaery showed her good attitude to the northerner by showing her favor. So Daisy was not joked at or made to look like a fool or a savage, but was questioned most of the day, often about John or the North, and after a couple hours she was ready to howl.
***
Highgarden, the next day
This morning a small procession of the Lady of the Expanse walked through the streets of the city, accompanied by numerous servants and guards. The dresses on the girls were colorful, and to be frank, any person who entered this procession could not be called unsightly. Not even the servants. As a result, it did not go unnoticed and Margaery and her entourage here and there caught the smiling glances of the townspeople. There were countless children running around and looking at the guardsmen enthusiastically.
- What do you think of Tarly? - Leonetta Fossoway turned to Margaery, the presence of this girl near Lady Tyrell had become familiar, the girl had long been among Margaery's close friends, even though she was older.
- I hope you're not talking about the potbelly," Margaery replied with a giggle.
- I mean Deacon. They say Lord Tarly intends to make him the heir instead of his eldest son.
- It's a pity," Margaery said thoughtfully. - Sam is kind, but his brother is surprisingly dull and stern, despite his small age. I am not attracted to him in the least.
- Prince Quentin, then?
- I hear the Dornish are very fond of goats," Margaery marveled at the silliness of another suitor's suggestion, especially since the Tyrells are on cold terms with the Martells after the Red Serpent crippled her older brother.
- Robert Arryn? - A new proposal from Leonetta, Margaery smiled full mouth.
- Marriage to a man who will see you as a big sister instead of a spouse, what could be better? How old is he now?
- Five years old.
- Our Margaery is being picky about all the good options. Not to mention the countless local young men who look at her like guilty puppies,'' another girl from the entourage pointed out.
- Really? - Lionette asked.
- You have no idea how many admirers our lady has.
Margaery only rolled her eyes at another attempt by her friends to discuss and construct her personal life. Her grandmother had told Margaery that she could make her queen - Prince Joffrey was just the right age for her, and being the wife of a mere lord was not for her, she was one of the best ladies-in-waiting in all seven kingdoms. Only the heiress of Dorne or Princess Myrcella could be better than her.
- Or maybe Lady Margaery ignores them because she's still loyal to her first love.
- Oh! You mean the bastard? Garlan told me how she talked about him nonstop and even wanted to write letters to Winterfell. And then they met again.
- Enough! - Margaery's eye twitched and a blush rose to her cheeks. - I'm not an eight-year-old girl anymore, and I realize this makes no sense, because a bastard will inherit nothing, and no one will pass me off as a bastard," the young Tyrell signaled that this conversation was over and strode forward.
- Listen, do you believe what she says? - Lionette whispered conspiratorially.
- Not in the slightest," she smiled.
Soon they reached the city orphanage, but surprisingly did not cause the usual excitement. As it turned out a little later, all the attention was attracted by the northerners who visited the orphanage, making a large charitable donation. The children were enthusiastically playing with a strikingly beautiful blonde-haired girl of exotic appearance for these places. The orphanage keeper was discussing something with Ser Snow and Lady Mormont. Later, Margaery joined the discussion.
The ladies of Margaery's retinue watched her chatting passionately with an old acquaintance and a northern lady. The smile on her face was sincere and not at all fake, and when a raven began to caress the girl, she looked ready to spread a puddle of happiness.
- "I'm not an eight-year-old girl anymore, and I realize it doesn't make any sense,"? - Margaery quoted Lionette.
- Flirting with him didn't stop her from doing so.
- Leaving her friends alone.
...
Several hours later, Margaery, sitting in the box, watched the final preparations for the general fight that was about to take place. Willas was talking quietly with his grandmother, the latter's face expressing undisguised skepticism. Margaery tried to listen to the conversation, though she wasn't that interested in it.
Eventually, a horn sounded over the ring, signaling the start of the battle. There were nearly two hundred warriors on the field. Still, the Tyrells' overall fight was undoubtedly the largest in the last ten years. There were warriors from all parts of the mainland, even Ironborn, Northmen, and pirates from the Three Sisters Islands. The Vale warriors were also present, but they were mostly spear fighters. The greatest number of participants came from the Expanse, the Stormlands, and the Western Lands.
With each passing minute, the battle was gaining momentum, and the number of participants was getting smaller and smaller. After almost thirty minutes, there were no more than thirty people left. Up to this point, the battles had been fought mostly wall-to-wall between warriors who had organized themselves into groups by region, but now that there were not so many competitors left, the tactics had changed. Warriors who were weaker were teaming up against the most skillful in order to increase their chances. Bronze John was surrounded by five men at once, but he was in no hurry to yield to them, taking them out of the fight one by one.
The Nightmare Wolf and his companion were also surrounded by six men, but suddenly the Northmen, shouting, "Here we stand!" launched themselves into a frontal attack. The taller of the two men cut into the formation with his shield and scattered them in different directions. They tried to attack him from behind and knocked him down with their shields, but the northern knight chipped off almost half of his shield with a single sword blow and then struck him flat on the leg. A crunching sound was heard - it was obviously broken. A couple minutes later, the Northmen overpowered the entire six.
The bastard's sword struck blow after blow, accelerating with each swing. There were not many opponents left on the field, and Snow could finally go wild. A couple of times he even broke his opponents' weapons with his powerful blows. He went up against a couple or even several opponents at once and defeated them one by one, moving like lightning. The excited crowd began to chant, "Nightmare Wolf!".
After a while, only a couple of Northerners, Bronze Jon and Garlan Tyrell, remained in the arena. The latter two, without collusion, joined together in an alliance that would disintegrate as quickly as it had organized.
Royce and Tyrell took a defensive stance, but it didn't help them much. A mace strike broke through Royce's shield and nearly knocked him to the ground while Snow put up a fight with Tyrell, preventing his opponents from attacking two on one. Garlan already knew what to expect from his opponent, but the fatigue that his opponent seemed not to feel at all was taking its toll.
Garlan had no choice but to dodge his opponent's blows, as he attacked too quickly, leaving no room for a counterattack. After a moment, Snow was able to disarm his opponent and knock him to the ground with a kick to the chest. Tyrell gestured that he was surrendering, after which Snow gave him a hand and helped him up. This noble gesture was appreciated by the crowd. Meanwhile, Bronze Jon was able to overpower his opponent thanks to his years of experience, but refused to fight any further, lowering his sword. John nodded and removed his helmet.
- Nightmare wolf! Nightmare Wolf! - The crowd chanted happily.
Margaery didn't notice herself shouting the name either, forgetting to even support her own brother and Highgarden as they fought. Lady Olenna, sipping wine from her goblet, looked at the winner appraisingly, muttering a single phrase:
- 'Yes, Stark and Dane blood is a hellish mixture,' but hardly anyone heard her.
- Grandmother? - Margaery decided to clarify.
- A fourteen-year-old boy won the overall fight, showing incredible skill. Just imagine what the Sword of Dawn's nephew will be capable of in a few years and at the same time the son of the only man who could defeat him.
- Are you sure he has Dane blood in him?
- He can't be the son of a commoner, he's too good with a sword, and of all the possible ladies, it's the Dane maiden who fits.
A moment later, almost all the ladies in the box gasped in surprise, some of them even fainted. Margaery glanced at the ringstand and realized the reason. The Nightmare Wolf's associate was Lady Mormont, which only became clear now that she had removed her helmet. Snow carried her in his arms toward the tent. At that moment, Margaery felt a pang of jealousy, though perhaps she had just imagined it.
On that note, the general fight ended, taking the lives of nearly twenty men who dared to take part. Loras Tyrell emerged the winner of the spear fight, declaring his younger sister the queen of love and beauty and presenting her with a wreath of flowers. It was quite expected, the winners often gave this title to their sisters. Jaime Lannister always gave flowers to his sister.
The next morning, a servant comes to Margaery with strange news. Almost all the sick children at the orphanage she recently visited have recovered overnight. The caretaker will attribute this miracle to the result of days of prayer, and Margaery will be waiting to talk to her grandmother.
***
The end of the tournament and the last feast fell just in time for Lady Tyrell's fourteenth birthday. It had been arranged so that the biggest feast would be on that day. A feast of unprecedented proportions was taking place in Highgarden. Guests from almost every corner of the kingdom, musicians, dancers, minstrels and acting troupes entertained the guests of the feast. Guests from the far North were also invited to the feast. Still, the absence of the winner of the general fight at the feast could hit the prestige.
The feast itself, however, began with gifts. Lady Margaery was presented with all sorts of gifts, as good as her financial situation allowed. The lords who had sons close to the birthday girl's age tried the hardest. Gowns and various pieces of jewelry were mostly given. Lord Mace gave his daughter a large harp decorated with an exquisite pattern. Someone even gave a boat of marvelous design for cruising on the Mander, which were quite popular among the ladies of the Spacer. There were riding boots, too, and an ornate dagger. There were also a lot of books of all kinds, in total - a third of all the gifts.
The guests from the north presented a wicker basket, the contents of which rustled as the gift was carried to the lady of honor. This aroused some interest in the other guests, Snow noted that they were playing a game of "Whose gift is most to their liking," or "Whose gift is most expensive."
- Lady Margaery, allow me to present you with this gift. I do hope it will be to your liking.
- What's inside? - The girl asked interestedly.
John lowered the basket to the floor and removed the lid. A shaggy face peeked out from inside and a shaggy puppy of light brown color jumped out, awkwardly knocking the basket over and causing it to roll on the floor. The dog looked back at John, as if expecting a command, and got a nod in the birthday girl's direction. Then, to a few excited shrieks, the puppy trotted over to Margaery, who crouched down to pick him up. When he reached the girl, he sniffed her, then began to lick her arms, legs, and face a couple of times. The girl only laughed gleefully.
- So you gave my sister a dog? - Garlan, who had been silent until then, asked skeptically.
- I did, my lord.
- What's so special about him?
- He's easy to eat, and he's remarkably loyal and obedient, even for a dog.
- Is that all? - John paused for a moment.
- Well, he'll grow to the size of a pony, and apart from your sister, no one south of the Wall can boast of having one. It's a breed only found on the Dark Shore," John explained hastily.
Garlan gritted his teeth, and a couple of other lords gritted their teeth; the bastard had done many of them in.
- Does he have a name? - Margaery delicately distracted her brother from burning a hole in the bastard.
- According to Northern tradition, it is the master who must name his animal, so I did not name him.
- Since this lovely dog is from the far north, I'll call him Frost," John's face twisted for just a moment at the memory of his horse of the same name, with which he had traveled across Skyrim.
- It's a wonderful name, my lady," the puppy yapped approvingly from his mistress's arms.
...
After the gifts, the feast itself began, and dancing and other entertainment came closer to the evening. Dacey became almost the heroine of the day. The girl had no shortage of admirers: someone praised her courage, someone speculated how romantic John carried her from the arena. In a word, if she had not been an associate of the winner and had not been on that stage, no one would have paid attention to her performance.
Most of the guests were already tipsy, John was periodically approached and congratulated on his victory in the general fight, someone pestered with questions, and a sharp jump in popularity among the fair sex could also be noted. So the guy had a hard time, but he was not pestered when Daisy was around. He managed to dance with the birthday girl a couple of times. Garlan continued to be a jealous, strict older brother, though John realized that it was just a role he had to play instead of Willas. Eventually the festivities began to go downhill.
- Auntie, look, it's Nightmare Wolf! - Jon heard another enthusiastic cheer nearby.
Snow looked up to see who was speaking. He was a fair-haired boy of Dornish appearance, about ten years old. His hair was not honey-colored like Vel's, but rather pale silver or even ash-colored. His eyes were large and deep blue, and in the light of the candles and torches they appeared purple. Next to him was a very attractive black-haired lady with the same eyes as the boy, she was about five, maybe eight years older than John. After quickly going over in his head all the noble houses of Dorne whose members might have possessed such looks, Snow came to a rather obvious conclusion.
- Lord Dane, Lady Dane, is there anything I can do for you?
- Teach me how to fight as well as you do," the boy got straight to the point. His directness reminded John of Arya.
- Edric, don't be so flippant, Ser John is not your peer from the Black Asylum," the woman admonished him.
- 'But Auntie, he and I are related by milk, so it's alright.
- I beg your pardon? - John was slightly taken aback by this statement.
- My nephew is convinced his nurse is your mother, sire. Lord Stark never told you about his mother?
- He never gave any specifics. I did manage to hear the name "Willa" in conversation a few times.
- Willa served in Starfall for many years before I was born," Edric announced solemnly.
- The name is very common in all seven kingdoms, Lord Dane. Your nurse may have nothing to do with me.
- But Lord Stark came back from Dorne with you," young Edric pointed out rightly, making Jon wonder.
- That doesn't prove anything, Edric. You should apologize and finally introduce yourself properly. You are Lord Starfall," the woman began to reprimand her nephew.
Meanwhile, one of the castle servants approached John and whispered something in his ear.
- I'm sorry, but I must excuse myself for a while. Lord Dane," John said.
- Yes?
- I'm willing to give you a few lessons. And in return, you'll tell me more about this villa.
- Do I have your word?
- Yes, and I remind you that Northerners keep their word.
- Edric gave John his hand, which he shook, sealing the deal.