Jon
The seas were calm as their ship glided effortlessly through the water, the sky clear and blue without a cloud in sight. Jon stood at the stern of the ship, watching the waters they left behind, and the horizon which continued on forever. He could hear the crew working on deck, the laughter of the noblemen and women who were taking in the delight of the good weather and also the clash of steel as two men sparred for training.
He'd grown used to the sea, to the routine of this life even if it had only been for a mere month. There was a calming peace he'd attained from his time spent here, and Jon was sad that it would leave soon. And he was anxious for what would come next. Arthur hadn't told him much of what was coming, only that this was what all their training and preparations was meant for. His life was beginning, apparently. His life outside of the shadows.
Somebody yelled on the deck, and Jon turned to see why. He couldn't help but crack a smile when he saw the scene, his view slightly obstructed as he stood at the back of the ship, but it was not hard to come to understand what had happened.
Arthur Dayne held his practice sword at the man on the floor, pointing the tip at his chest. The man, a great beast of muscle whose head shined without a speck of hair, grunted at the legend, standing by himself even after Arthur offered him a hand. He said nothing to the knight, only walking away, shoulders slumped, bruises bare on his body.
If only he knew who he tried to beat. Jon had been taught all the legends of Westeros as apart of his education as a boy. Arthur never enjoyed talking about himself, or of all the tales of his Knighthood, but Jon relished them when they came up. When he got to see the Knight in action he couldn't help but get excited. It was like a tale of old bearing itself in reality, and everything he had learned came bubbling up to the forefront of his mind.
Jon took the steps up to the deck, watching Arthur Dayne slip the practice sword in a sword rack with the others, before fastening his own sword, his real sword, to his back. The noblemen and women on deck were all looking at him, curious and eyes wide in amazement. That was the usual response when anyone got a good look at the man's sword skills. Jon wondered how they would react if they knew who the man really was.
When the Knight saw Jon coming closer he nodded, smiling.
'There you are, boy.' He said. 'I thought you had run off with one of the girls underdeck. You should be careful with them, you don't know what secrets they may try and pull from you.'
Jon felt his cheeks grow warm. He didn't know what to say.
'Come now, boy. I'm only playing. But don't think I don't notice what you do. My eye is forever perceptive.'
Jon rolled his eyes. 'Yes, yes. As you say.'
The Knight grinned. 'Don't believe me? You shouldn't take my boasts lightly, boy. Remember that tourney in Myr?'
Jon rested his back against the railings of the ship. 'That was luck. Dumb luck.'
'Fighting ten men doesn't take luck, Jon. Neither does fighting you.' Arthur laughed, a deep and warm sound that brought many fond memories through the years.
'You say that now, but just you wait. Tales will be told of me through all the lands. From Braavos to Lys, people will know my name!' Jon grinned, knowing that his own boasting always annoyed the Knight. But a grin kept on the man's lips. He must be in a good mood.
'Ah yes, of course. The boy slain by a village imp. It'll be a story told for generations.'
Jon shook his head, laughing with the man. He turned after to look out to the sea, past the water and towards the grand city which was beginning to show itself. Arthur had told him about Pentos before they embarked on the journey, saying that he'd never seen it himself actually.
The Knight approached the railing and turned to look out towards it as well, the two of them falling into silence.
But Jon was still curious, his satiety for answers never quenched.
'Why are we going to Pentos? You still haven't said.'
'I already told you. To begin the journey we've been training for.'
'But what does that mean, Arthur? What have we been training for? I know you give me details here and there, but why the secrecy? Why not tell me now if it's so close?'
Arthur Dayne sighed, staring out past the water. 'It's too much pressure to put on a boy, you have to understand. You will know soon enough. But it might be best to hear it from someone with more...experience.'
'But I'm not a boy anymore. I'm a man now. My sixteenth name-day has come and pass.'
Arthur looked at him, purple eyes glowing in the sunlight. 'A name day does not make one a man, best you remember that. Besides, when we get to Pentos all will be explained. Explained by better men than me.'
'There is no better man than you, Arthur.'
The Knight smiled, almost sadly. 'Kind of you to say, Jon. But there are better men at explaining these types of things. I've never been one for talking. I have found I am only good at talking with my blade.'
Jon frowned, wondering why he was being so stubborn, before moving from the railing and towards the swords. He took a practice sword out, turning towards Arthur and aiming it at him, taunting.
'Well if that's how you'll be, come then.'
Arthur Dayne grinned, considering the proposition for a second, before approaching and sliding his own sword out of the rack. Everyone on deck glanced at the scene, the crew and the nobles, even the captain at the bow of the ship was taking time off navigating to steal a peek. Arthur had been sparring with men the entire time they'd been on the ship. He always said not training was to the body like a sword left to rust. "Leave a sword in it's scabbard long enough, Jon, and it'll grow dull and blunt. Think the same in regards to your body, and you will never grow weak".
They stood apart from one another, their stances mimicking each other besides a few adjustments. But before they could start Jon spoke, making sure this fight wasn't for nothing.
'But we must place a bet.' He said, seeing Arthur's smirk drop. 'If I win, you have to tell me everything. Everything about why we're going to Pentos. And why we have been training all these years. And…' Jon faltered for a moment. '...and who my parents are. You say you knew my father. And my mother. But you've never told me who they were. Or what happened to them.'
Arthur frowned, peering at the ground for a second before meeting Jon's eyes. 'This will all be answered in time.'
'But I want you to tell me.' Jon took a moment to collect himself. 'I wish to hear it from you.'
Arthur nodded, sadly. Before smirking. 'Then I suppose you will have to defeat me.'
Jon smiled, distancing himself from the thoughts of his parents. 'I suppose so.'
They took an honorary bow before the sparring match commenced, and then they readied themselves in but a moment. Jon often felt fear when he went up against the Knight. Not because he feared defeat, although that was the case in all their matches before. No, he feared he might disappoint his mentor, not live up to the expectations the man had for him. He wanted to show that all this time training was not wasted, that Jon had been learning through these years. That Jon was capable of protecting himself. And now he had more of a reason to show this to the man.
He not only hunted for approval, but now hunted also for truth.
Arthur struck first, as he always did, moving forward with a quick step and slicing at his chest, which Jon avoided easily by pushing backwards, keeping his sword in place in case of any other attacks. But the Knight left himself open, baiting the boy to strike which he did but only with a simple stab, making sure to not overextend himself. He knew the Knight's game, how he got those to fall into his trap and how he overpowered even the largest of enemies. Of course now Arthur Dayne could have pushed on and defeated Jon in a matter of seconds. But that was not his way in these matches, as he relied more on trickery than anything else. And that's why Jon had a chance, as long as everything went right for him.
The Knight parried his stab, their swords clashing for a second before Arthur's was slicing towards Jon's arm, so quick that the boy barely had time to register the move. But his reflexes kept him out of harm's way, and he spun away from the attack. He heard a few claps from their small audience, and he couldn't help but smile.
'Don't get too cocky, boy.' Arthur grinned. 'You'll be on your butt in a few minutes.'
'We'll have to see about that.' Jon smirked.
They danced around each other, swords snapping at each other and echoing hollow steel,their grunts becoming louder with each move. Their steps delicate and graceful, their feints common and lightning quick. Jon could see that the Knight was struggling, if only a little, to keep up with him. Only a bit more, he thought, trying to tire the man. Jon couldn't beat Ser Arthur Dayne in a regular sword fight, but he might just be able to outlast him.
Jon kept moving, never staying in one place for too long and he could see Arthur was starting to get annoyed, each step a bit more slow than the last, each lunge he made not as quick. However he was still far more skilled, so much more Jon struggled to keep up. No matter how slow Arthur's slices and stabs were they continued to keep him unbalanced, and Jon realised soon that he wouldn't be able to keep up this dance, that he would eventually have to start making his own precise attacks to keep in the game.
'Stop running and fight!' Arthur bellowed, a smile on his lips.
'If I did that I wouldn't win this bet!' Jon ducked underneath Arthur's attack as he sliced the air above him and finally went for his own move, trying to stab as his unguarded back. But Arthur was far too quick and he parried the sword, their swords clanging together, before raising his sword up for another attack.
Jon instinctively went to block, raising his own sword in response, but he saw his mistake too late. Arthur had feinted his strike, pretending that he would attack overhead, but at the last moment changed directions and instead he moved his sword towards Jon's chest. He couldn't do anything about it.
The blunt edge of the sword hit his chest and sent him to the ground, the sharp pain reverberating through his body and he couldn't help but cry out. He sprawled across the deck. If he hadn't been wearing his padded armor it would have been much worse.
Ser Arthur Dayne quickly approached and pointed his sword close to Jon's neck, standing above him.
'Do you accept defeat?' The Knight asked.
Jon was wincing from the pain, and with some difficulty he said. 'Can't do much now, can I?'
The Knight made a small shrug. 'I suppose not.'
Arthur helped the boy to his feet, a hand grasping his forearm and the other his shoulder, and for a few seconds they were showered with applause. The Knight laughing took a bow, and Jon grinning bowed as well. He rubbed his chest, the pain still emanating, as they sheathed their swords back on the rack.
'I suppose you will have to wait till Pentos now.'
Jon sighed, glancing over to the growing city, already able to see the people rushing along on the port and the crowds that laid within.
'I suppose so.' He couldn't help but brood over his defeat. He thought he might be able to defeat Arthur this time. He'd sparred with the man so many times over the years he would have thought that by now he would have understood all his moves. But it always seemed to Jon that whenever he thought he had the old Knight figured out he would always pull something else out of his bag of tricks. Jon was starting to believe that he'd barely seen even half of it, and that beating him was an impossibility at this point.
Arthur must have noticed the expression on his face, because his tone softened. 'You're getting better, Jon. I can see it. You're a more than capable swordsman.' He looked away for a brief moment, before returning his gaze. 'And I'm sorry I could not tell you everything. I believe it would be better if you heard it from the people at Pentos. The people we will be meeting.'
Jon looked at him. 'Can you at least tell me who we're meeting?'
Arthur paused for a moment, and Jon thought he would deny him once more, but thankfully allowed him this.
'We're meeting a Magister of the city, a man who is a rich merchant for lack of a better word. The Magisters control the city and most of it's trade.'
He thought for a moment, not knowing what to say. 'He sounds...powerful.
A glimmer of a smile passed on the Knight's lips. 'Yes, well. He's have been waiting a long time to meet you.'
Jon frowned. 'Why?'
Arthur Dayne smiled, that sad smile which revealed itself at times. 'You'll find out soon enough, Jon. You'll find out soon enough.'
