Summary: (Improved!) Jon Snow's impending fate to the Wall is nigh, but then he meets young Marian from Qarth, who comes to Winterfell in search of medicinal herbs to develop a cure for a mysterious fatal illness. Will she achieve her goal before her father dies? Who will help/delay her? + TWISTS & TURNS on the fight over the Iron Throne! JS/OC
Disclaimer: Do I own GOT? HA! I wish… (sigh)
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Previously…
First of all, Jon decided he'd open that manacle round her left ankle by force with a dagger he had. Or he could break the chain too. Anything to release her. Then, they could flee somewhere else and he'd try to convince her to stay out of trouble. But when he took his dagger from the sheath, he met her stern and fierce face, her mildly shivering, aflame pupils, and her wild, dishevelled long hair when she suddenly said with a coarse voice and fierceness:
"I'm ready."
"What for?" He asked naively, wondering about Marian's sudden fierce attitude towards him.
"To die."
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Chapter 20: He was only serving himself
Jon could only stare at her with bewilderment. Her fiery eyes seemed to be two soul-piercing orbs filled with sadness and defiance.
He honestly thought he had heard it wrong. But her face did not lie one bit: she was facing him like an enemy. He knew that kind of face, those killer eyes, and those firmly-pressed lips. He had seen them before when she had got mad at Theon and him in the brothel, for example. It was a facial expression he would never forget.
"What's the matter, Marian?" He simply asked calmly but with worry while the soft music of raindrops was playing in the background.
Those large, dark storm clouds didn't allow much light to go through. Jon and Marian were staring at each other in the semidarkness.
"I know what's really going on." She replied daringly. "You don't need to act anymore."
Jon frowned at that.
"What are you talking about?" He asked naively. His curly hair was wet due to the rain and tiny drops were sliding down his cheeks and neck as he spoke. "Perhaps you mean that you know there's a war on? That I started it? And the reason why I'm here? How can you possibly know that?" He asked raising an eyebrow.
Jon had assumed Lord Stark would have told her after receiving the raven with Robb's message, but since Lord Stark hadn't fulfilled his role, how could she know?
"My father's told me all about it hours ago." She replied sternly then.
Suddenly, silence became an unbearable third party in their conversation.
"Your father?" He asked hesitating. "I have only told a few people. How could he know about it?"
"Don't play with me." She replied with mildly repressed anger. Her pupils were shivering a bit due to fear and her current heartache. Seeing him in the same room with her was hurting her a lot more than she had expected. "I'm not dumb. I know you're here to…"
Her voice failed her for the first time in her life.
It was hard enough to think about it, to have no other option but to believe it, to feel it slowly coming, hurting every fiber of her body – but she couldn't dare to say it out loud. The fact that the one she loved was there to kill her.
'I know you're here to kill me.' She thought feeling cold. 'Why is it so hard to say it out loud when all my brain has only been capable of doing these last hours is precisely this? I can't think about anything else!'
It was an extremely demanding thing to do, admitting she knew that out loud. Jon saw it, the weight of something unutterable down her throat, something big stuck there, ticking like a time bomb. Would he dare to push the invisible red button that would unleash the lethal explosion?
"Look," Jon decided to take over the leading role in the conversation for the time being. He spoke calmly but firmly as he came a bit closer to her in a pure act of trying to comfort her. "I don't know how much you know about the current state of affairs, but I'm here to make sure you're fine. I'm worried that something bad might've happened to Lord Stark. He was meant to…"
"He's been imprisoned for treason." She replied with a serious tone of voice, interrupting him. "Because he wanted to apprehend me. And betray the king. You told him to."
"I didn't…!" He began to exclaim, but stopped abruptly. And then he went on as smoothly as before. "He was meant to come to you and take you far away from here, to a safe place where we would not fear for your life. He didn't want to apprehend you. He was meant to protect you. Hasn't he told you why?"
"I haven't spoken to him." She replied frowning. She sensed something was wrong, but she went on in an accusatory mode: "My father intercepted a letter from Robb and yourself saying that you have the intention to claim the throne and you wanted him to be on your side. He has been arrested and has confessed that he wanted to support your cause. Obviously, that's treason. He shall be executed for it." She concluded sternly.
"What?!" He asked dumbfounded, his lovely eyes still glued to her in a frantic desperation to know what was going on. "So your father knows because he's read our letter! Great!" He sighed hopelessly. "Just great! When is Lord Stark meant to be executed? Is he still alive?!"
Marian was starting to hesitate as to whether or not she should go on speaking. She had probably told Jon far too much information already. She was frowning, not fully convinced as to why Jon was behaving the way he had always had towards her, gently, staring at her with kindness and worry. It didn't make sense according to the account of facts that her father had portrayed to her.
"I don't know. He was meant to be executed at dawn." She replied almost in a whisper.
"NOW?!" He exclaimed in panic.
"I don't know what time it is. Besides, it's too dark outside. Is it dawn already?"
'Robb must've failed to find Lord Stark in his chambers.' Jon started to think quickly. 'He must be searching for him. Surely, he can find him and stop the execution!' He hoped it would turn out well. They needed him. 'And I hope he doesn't get into too much trouble with the palace guards. This place must be heavily guarded.'
"OK, fine, Marian." He eventually replied trying hard to calm down. "Everything will be OK, I promise. Robb's gonna find out a way to save him. I'm sure he will. Don't worry.
"Stop it, please." She replied sadly. "Stop acting. You don't need to. You don't have to pretend that I still care, that you still care."
"What?" He asked almost in a whisper.
"If you need to go and save Lord Stark, just go." She replied, frowning. "We don't need it to take this long, you and me. I'm fed up with it. Just do it already."
"Do what?" He asked naively.
"Kill me." She replied softly as if she had no will to live at all. Her heartache was so heavy that she didn't want to live the rest of her live with it, consuming her inside-out.
"WHAT?!" He exclaimed.
"Swiftly, please." She added.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" He yelled. "I'm not gonna kill you! Yes, I'm planning to defy the king on a duel! But that's between him and me. If Lord Stark's life is at stake, I need to save him! And quickly! Marian, we don't have time for this. I'm not a bad guy. You know that! What the hell is wrong with you?! Why do you think I'm gonna kill you?!"
She was unwilling to go on speaking, so he went on.
"Marian, please… listen to me very carefully." He went on as calmly as he could manage. "If your father intercepted Robb's letter to his father, surely he must've told you its content. All of it?"
"I guess so." She replied half-heartedly.
"Have you read it yourself?" He insisted.
"No." She admitted with a dense cloud of doubts hanging over her head.
"Did he have it with him and read it to you?" He went on asking.
"No." She realized where the conversation was going.
"Listen to me, Marian:" He added firmly. "I wanted Lord Stark to take you away from danger, to protect you, not to apprehend you. Your father might've told you that – not me. With you in a safe place, my path to the king would have been as clear as possible. I would've only needed to worry about leading an army into the city and then into the palace, defy King Robert and fight against him in a duel."
She was listening with genuine interest. Jon had a point: he had made her acknowledge that she had trusted her father blindly, without any proof.
"That doesn't mean I want to kill you! On the contrary!" He said in a hurry. "Anyway, I need to get you out of here. Staying here is far too dangerous! Look, you may already know that I'm former King Rhaegar's only son. I know it's hard to believe, but there's proof that I truly am. Lord Tywin owns it. And he is giving me support for as long as I… dethrone and… kill your father and… you. He wants both of you dead! But I'm not willing to allow it! I'm not comfortable with this plan. Believe me! Robb and I specifically wrote in that letter that Lord Stark should make sure you're safe and sound!" He added feeling torn, trying hard to make her understand. In the meantime, he was trying to break the chains using his dagger as a lever. "I have a plan that can work, Marian! I promise you'll be safe. Even your father. I may have to fight against him, but that doesn't mean that I have to kill him. In fact, I just want to exile him. If he agrees to behave properly, he might even stay here. We'll see how he takes it. I need to see how he reacts when I tell him. Lord Tywin will get mad at me, but I don't care. He'll try to turn the nobles against me for it, but Robb and I have a plan to outsmart him. Anyway, you have to flee from the castle as soon as possible, Marian. You're not safe here… But can you please tell me why you are chained to your bed, by the way?" He asked trying hard to make sense of it while trying hard to release her, but the manacle didn't give in.
He was being straightforward and kind to her, like he had always been. She saw how he wasn't trying to hide anything from her, that he was as good as always. His eyes were not clouded by the veil of mischief. He had not changed one bit: he was the same good old Jon she had known from the very start. If he had really wanted to kill her, he would've already done it. He would not try to release her. And his eyes, his warm and deep dark eyes fixed on hers, were genuinely full of worry. Every moment that they had ever shared came back to her to embrace her and calm her in a heartbeat. That well-known overflowing feeling of coziness in her heart won the battle of doubts for good then.
"I thought that…" She replied sheepishly and with sadness. "Well, my father told me that you'd come here to kill us all. He said you were the one and only behind the attempt of murder in Qarth and the Septa's and Lady Bird's murders recently, and… He said it was logic that you wanted to kill me because it would be convenient for you, according to the fact that you wanted to claim the throne, so that you'd become king easily. It seemed logical, that you wanted us dead. And he's the one who's chained me to my bed because he didn't want me to sneak out like I have done before."
"You sneaked out?" He asked with curiosity still trying hard to release her, to no avail for the time being. "There's someone out there who wants to have you murdered, Marian! Why the heck did you do that? Something happened, I assume."
"The illness I was trying to cure is spreading overseas." She replied sadly. "I went down there at the docks to cure a sailor. And before that, I went back to Qarth to retrieve the flask with the cure."
"What?!" He asked with amazement. He even froze and stopped applying force on his dagger.
"I know, I know! I'm crazy! But my cure seems to be working." She replied in a hurry. "Thank God I still have it with me, but I've only got one flask. And it's half empty now." She admitted in a defeated tone of voice. "It's here, Jon. One of the guards I had by my door is suffering from it right now. He's disappeared with his colleague to Gods know where. I assume both are infected by now, if not more and more people as we speak."
"Things are going from bad to worse, I see." He concluded frowning and angry.
"I never thought the illness would spread overseas, but I guess I was wrong." She concluded in a defeated attitude.
"And now what?" He asked, fully concentrated on breaking the chains. He eventually could.
"Thank you, Jon." She said then warmly. "The spreading illness can wait. I don't like it, but… We can do something about it later. It has to be later. There's a lot on our plate right now. My father says he's looking forward to duel against you. He wants to kill Robb as well. He's… so… pissed off right now."
"I figured that." He admitted. "Look, all I can think of right now is keeping you safe. Do you know anywhere you can hide, even though it's in the palace itself? A wardrobe? A closet in the kitchen? A large bush in the garden? I need to know you'll stay out of trouble. And out of Lord Tywin's sight. He cannot see you. I shall deal with him later. I don't want him anywhere near you, Marian. In the same way I don't want you anywhere near me right now."
"But I could help you out." She insisted.
"I'd rather not take any risks." He insisted with more determination.
"You know I can defend myself. You've seen it with your very eyes." She pointed out.
"Yes, but I'll be worried sick." He said with worry. "I can't deal with all this madness at once plus knowing you have no protection whatsoever. I know I'm being foolish and that you can fend for yourself, but please please please… hide. Stay out of trouble. Consider it a favour if you want."
He had said it with the best of intentions, not because he was a male chauvinist.
In fact, he was thinking of the awful vision of the godswood. The large sacred tree with a sad face carved on it had revealed him what would happen to her if he let her stay anywhere close to him and the throne room. Some elements of the horrid vision had ended up proving it could eventually become true. Her light pink dress was real; and he realized that the throne room had that same cream-coloured marble floor he had seen in the vision. If he let her help him, she would end up being killed by his own hand – he was sure of it. Luckily, she wasn't wearing that dress right then. At least, that was something.
He swallowed hard and remained firm:
"I'd rather not have you around. I'm serious."
"Well," She said giving in. "the garden is a huge place full of large bushes and the gazebo overlooking the sea from the far end of the garden is usually a quiet place."
"OK, go there and keep a low profile." Jon added with warmth. "Will you do that for me, please?"
She was smiling warmly at him. And before she could even nod or utter a simple reply, he slowly leaned towards her. Unconsciously, she was doing the same – until they ended up kissing each other, softly, languidly, as if they had all the time in the world. It was a much-deserved little break in that stormy nightmare of their lives. Her soft, warm lips felt too good on his cold ones. A thunder could be heard in the distance, roaring in the skies, far away, and echoing in the streets of the city down below.
"You don't know how much I hate being here." Jon whispered to her after softly breaking the kiss. "I'd rather be my old self in Winterfell a few weeks ago when I met you, when I didn't know who I really was and who you really were. Life wasn't easy back then, but at least there was peace… I could be by your side every day without a single care in the world but to make sure you could go to the woods and come back safe and sound."
"It had been nice and easy." She concluded softly whispering, too.
They went on kissing each other once more, relishing their brief yet spurring contact. Their craving for each other was second to no other thought. Eventually, Jon broke the kiss because he literally had no time to lose.
"I need to go." He whispered softly.
"OK." She replied whispering softly too, blushing softly. "You look stunning in this armour, by the way."
He raised and eyebrow at her, blushed a bit, and then he took a couple of seconds to think about how to reply to that.
"Yours shall be the honour of taking it away, piece by piece, if you agree to marry me." He whispered with all the love in the world.
Marian's eyes opened wide and she blushed revealingly.
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A bit later, in the dining room…
"Robb!" Jon exclaimed as he came into the room and found him and some elite soldiers waiting for him. "Are you OK? Is anyone hurt?"
"No, we'e ahl fine. Bu' I can' find my fader. Someding must've happen' ta him." Robb replied in a rush, worried like hell.
He wasn't feeling very well. In fact, he felt a lot more tired than ever, and his tongue felt as if it didn't want to obey a simple command like talking properly.
"I know. I've spoken to Marian about it." Jon replied in a rush. "Apparently, the king has intercepted our letter and has imprisoned him in a cell down below. He accuses him of treason and wants to behead him at dawn."
"Bu' i' is dawn already!" Robb complained in panic.
"I know. We've got very little time! Let's go!"
Jon went out of the dining room first, and the rest followed him down to the prison area down below, near the catacombs of the royal palace. There was no time to lose. They had to make run for it. But no one noticed how Robb was progressively being left behind bit by bit, panting but trying to hide it; it was as if he was finding it hard to move properly. He simply took a deep breath every now and then whenever he felt too tired, and then he followed the group as closely as he could.
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Not long after that, Jon and his group were able to save Lord Stark from jail. Apparently, King Robert had not fulfilled his promise to behead him at dawn, probably because the war was taking a fast pace thanks to Jon's ideas, but if he eventually decided to do it, he would be extremely surprised if he came down and found out Lord Stark was already gone.
While Jon headed towards the throne room, Robb, Lord Stark and their small group of elite soldiers decided to join the main group fighting by the entrance of the palace. They would attack the palace soldiers from behind their lines, taking advantage of the surprise effect. They did a fine job of it. The few men still fighting for the king were taken by surprise and outnumbered, and Jon's allies swiftly killed them.
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Lord Baelish, who had locked himself in his chambers, was trying hard to come up with a backup plan to defeat this ruthless and fast enemy. But a loud feminine moan broke his concentration.
"Oooh, my God!" A stark naked Lady Amiss exclaimed in a fit of passion which looked like a fake display of lust uttered by a novice whore. "Lord Baelish… my all… my… master…"
He was fucking her into oblivion. She had come to his chambers in a hurry the second her husband had finished putting on his armour and gone to battle with the other nobles, following the king's command… which had been directly inspired by Lord Baelish's plans. King Robert wasn't much of plan-maker, and fully trusted the Master of Coin even in such matters like war.
Therefore, Lord Baelish expected Lady Amiss to come to him in a heartbeat, like she had. He knew that the second she saw her husband leave, her independent will was forfeit.
"How lucky I am that the king doesn't need your immediate attention!" She exclaimed with pleasure, giggling a bit.
Her exposed tits bounced as he was fucking her from behind, on all fours on a marvellous, extremely expensive carpet on the floor, at the centre of the room. She was completely naked, and was sweating all over. He was fully dressed and had no intention to undress.
Not ever. Not for her.
'Had it been Princess Marian…' Lord Balish thought with care and lust. '… I would've had the decency to undress for her, to tantalise her like she deserves.'
He smirked darkly and replied to Lady Amiss thus:
"You were wet and ready for me the second your husband has left your chambers." He concluded with a naughty smile. "It looks like I've put an invisible collar around your neck, my pet lover."
He had said that while forsaking her hips completely to hold her neck with both hands, pretending to choke her, but just softly.
"With an invisible leash to pull me anytime you want." She added with lust.
He chuckled and fucked her harder while pulling her long hair as if it were that leash she was talking about. She moaned freely, with abandonment.
After some seconds, he took off his belt and put it around her delicate neck. When the loop was done, he pulled it towards him so that she was forced to curve her back as much as possible. She moaned while sticking her tongue out.
"Say you want me." She said all of a sudden with too much confidence as his fucking pace had become faster.
He just giggled darkly.
"What?" She asked still feeling sure of herself.
"You're not giving me orders, my dear slave." He replied full of naught. And then he grabbed her hip with his free hand with fierceness and thrusted deeply into her, meaning to hurt her.
She just yelled once and laughed briefly.
"I need to know you're enjoying me. Are you not enjoying fucking me?" She asked faking coyness.
"I enjoy fucking you. Very much." He conceded while closing his eyes and imagining Lady Amiss was actually Princes Marian.
'If only this bitch would shut up.' He thought. 'It would be a lot easier to picture my dream lover that way. I'd love to put my belt around her lovely neck… and make her cum hard on all fours right here.'
"I'm gonna gag you, my pet." He added swiftly with malevolence.
"Oh, don't. Not yet. Let me give my dear master a good damn bj." She replied feeling the need to please him. She would die for him if that made him cum, she thought.
"Oh, fuck, yes. Your mouth will have a lot worthier use that way." He replied in a heartbeat.
She giggled freely.
"I was born to cum for you, my master."
"You're such a whore." He whispered darkly then.
"Your needy whore." She added darkly too.
And then, sweet female juices ran down the inner sides of her thighs… and a thick trail of warm, fresh blood. She gasped and her smile died right after that.
"Yes, YOUR needy whore." A thick male voice said darkly then right behind both of them.
Lord Baelish frowned and got paler. He chanced to look down and saw a thick sword piercing his body from behind. The blade had gone through his abdomen and had gone ahead into Lady Amiss' body too. He could see his own warm blood spilling around the silver surface of the blade, a noble blade… with the insignia of the Lannisters carved on it.
The lion.
Lord Tywin was right behind them and had slayed them.
"Lord Tywin…" Lord Baelish managed to say as he began to lose a bit blood from his mouth.
"Lady Amiss," Lord Tywin began in an accusatory mode full anger and naught. "you've been a naughty child and you need to be punished."
"I didn't mean to… you know… I'm sorry." She managed to say clumsily. She would die soon. "Please, forgive me."
"You betrayed my trust and gave your loyalty to this little rat, Lord Baelish." He explained. "I don't like traitors. And both of you are. I know your plans as regards me, Lord Baelish. I know you wanted to get me ruined because I'm richer than you are. You know my power resides on money, and you wanted to steal that away from you while taking advantage of the war. With me on Jon's side, if he lost the duel, you could strip me off my lands and my money. You were planning to betray me. Lady Amiss told me everything."
"You did, you whore?!" Lord Baelish exclaimed rather feebly. "I'm gonna kill you."
"No, please!" She pleaded.
"No, I shall kill her." Another male voice said then, full of sadness and regret.
"Daevid, is that you, my dear husband?" She managed to ask choking on her own blood.
"Yes, it's me. And I'm gonna make this quick. I hate the sight of you and I shall take your infidelity no more. Prepare to meet thy maker, you dirty whore."
"We'll just say you died during the battle, that you were unlucky and got slayed by Jon's men." Lord Tywin replied. "That way Daevid's honour will not be tainted by your unfaithfulness."
"NO! PLEASE!" She begged yelling, to no avail.
"Wait." Lord Tywin said, putting a hand softly on Lord Daevid Amiss' shoulder. "I've got an idea. Lord Baelish, take this dagger and slit her throat while you tell her how you really feel about her."
"What?!" Lord Baelish exclaimed.
"I'll spare your life if you do." Lord Tywin added. "You'll have the best doctor in the whole country. He's here with me, he's attending my wounded men as we speak. You're not yet hopeless. Be wise."
Lord Baelish didn't hesitate then.
He grabbed the dagger and grabbed a handful of her hair.
"Tell it to her face." Lord Daevid Amiss demanded harshly.
"Good one, Daevid." Lord Tywin added with a smirk.
Lord Baelish made her face turn to him and spoke rather sternly thus:
"You're just a stupid cunt. I've fucked you only because you were eager to do anything I wanted. I don't even like you. I hate your voice, your hair, your hands, your thighs,… You don't look like anything to… to… her." That pronoun was uttered with full and genuine delight. "You're disgusting and I used you like a tool."
Lady Amiss started sobbing and, when Lord Baelish slit her throat, her tears mixed with her blood, both running hopelessly down her naked body, which fell lifeless with a dead thud.
"Done." Lord Baelish added with mild satisfaction.
"Like you are." Lord Tywin added with a dark smirk on his lips.
And then, he roughly took his sword back. While Lord Baelish was still kneeling on the floor, keeping his balance, Lord Tywin swiftly beheaded him.
"I thought you said you'd spare his life." Lord Daevid Amiss said as if he was devoid of life.
"He was only serving himself and his own interests. He was poison, and he would've always been that. I don't want to have any living reminder of his betrayal,…" Lord Tywin replied seriously. "… our all-new Master of Coin."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I shall suggest to King Jon that you're more than suitable for the job." He added. "And you'll favour me in every way, always. King Jon's tame as a sheep. He'll do as I tell him. Don't worry."
And having said that, they left the premises.
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Taking control of the palace didn't take long. All the nobles were eventually defeated and forced to capitulate. When the fight was over, loud cheering could be heard from every corner of the palace.
Every corner except the throne room, where the king had decided to wait for the inevitable all alone.
The overwhelming power of fate.
It was drawing both of them nearer and neared. King Robert and Jon Snow, Winterfell's most hated bastard.
King Robert was clenching his fists while sitting on the Iron Throne, all alone. He was clenching his teeth too, like an animal.
The rain had stopped. Everything was quiet. The stormy clouds had faded. The first sunrays were shining brightly on the glass panes of the throne room, shyly displaying the full range of iridescent colours on every single corner of the glass. However, the throne room still remained in the darkness for the most part, since it was large.
King Robert decided to stand, and then he remained quietly by the huge double doors made of glass which gave way to a large balcony, facing south. His sword was still in the sheath, quietly sleeping before a battle that might be its last. The cream-coloured marble tiles and columns, the furniture, and the whole room actually bore the silent serenity of the eye of a typhoon, a serenity bound by a spell that was instantly broken by Jon as he entered the throne room. Quietly. As a servant would.
But he was no servant. He was only serving himself then.
When Jon saw King Robert staring at the wailing city down below, waiting to be reprieved of the pain of war, Jon stopped on his tracks and waited for the king to say something – or to acknowledge his presence, at least.
"So this is it, right?" King Robert said rather casually but calmly, never turning to meet Jon's face. "It all comes down to this moment. You and me. Alone. Here. Tell me something, though."
"Why not." Jon replied formally, also calmly, but sternly. By the way he had spoken, it hadn't even felt like a question at all. His rough voice trying to make an effort to sound polite could be felt like an insult by itself.
"Have you found her?" King Robert asked turning around now, staring at Jon. "Before meeting me?"
"Yes." Jon replied instantly, not caring whether he should tell him the truth or not. Maybe concealing that information from the king could have been beneficial for him, but Jon wasn't in the mood to play mind games.
"Needless to say," The king chuckled once. "she might've responded fiercely to you."
Jon took a deep intake of air and decided to cut the crap. King Robert might have suspected he was no match for him in battle, so it was kind of obvious that he might want to try a different approach to defeat him by talking and bringing Marian up into the conversation instead of physically fighting against him. At least not yet, or not until he could dismantle his confidence, distract him, and then slay him. But Jon would not fall for that dirty trick.
"She might've…" Jon replied delusively.
"I guess you didn't see that one coming, huh? You thought she'd…" The king went on trying to sound like he had got it all under control.
"… Or she might've not." Jon replied with a funny undertone, not even caring to let him speak any further. That left King Robert a bit shocked. "I'm here to defy you, your highness." Jon replied using sarcasm at the end of the sentence while he leisurely took the sword out of its sheath. It hissing sound echoed in the darkness of the throne room.
"Huh." The king simply replied, trying to veil he was offended. "Impatience and impertinence will get you nowhere."
"Well, you seem to know that very well from your own experience, don't you?" Jon replied with a brief smile.
"Believe it or not, many people have been rude to me like you're being right now. But none of them lived long enough to cross me again." King Robert said taking out his sword too.
"You speak too much, and do too little to impress or scare me." Jon replied calmly but seriously.
"You don't believe me? Fine. I can prove it to you." King Robert replied in the same fashion.
"You won't be able to." Jon replied darkly like never before.
During the conversation, Jon had admitted to himself that he loathed the man in front of him a lot more than he was willing to admit, for obvious reasons: he had slaughtered his family long ago, he had caused him many pains by apprehending him and condemning him to spend the rest of his days guarding the Wall as if he was a mere bastard, he had imprisoned his uncle Lord Stark to have him beheaded at dawn, and he had lied to Marian in the most wicked and evil of ways so that she'd fear and hate him.
And right then, King Robert was behaving as meanly as possible towards him, probably still believing that he had done everything right, that he could get it all his way. The king deserved to die, horribly if possible, and yet Jon found himself unable to see past the king's defective line of life, because the second he would dare to do so, he was sure that the vision he had had a few days ago would haunt him again with the full impact of a tsunami. If he dared to kill him, he'd end up killing her too, like in that awful vision. Jon knew he had to get a grip of that nasty situation. He needed King Robert alive.
Of course, he'd gladly kill the king if that automatically meant that Marian was safe and sound, but he knew it wouldn't work that way. That was the problem. Jon knew that the lifeless body on the marble floor of his vision was the king's, with Jon's sword slaying him, and later he'd kill Marian as he would sit on the throne, very probably symbolising that as soon as he'd claim the throne, he'd be forced to get rid of her, that there shall be no alternative path to spare her life.
Jon swallowed hard as he stared silently at the king, who was staring back at him, concentrated on who would be the first to strike. King Robert was unable to even realise that Jon was feeling uneasy. If he had, he could've used it against him. But the king had become a lousy player in that complex world. Long gone were the days in which he had been considered one of the most skilful swordsmen in the kingdom. He had just let it go over the years, enjoying all the wine and whores he could, neglecting his training and his duties as a proper husband and king.
No sooner had Jon seen that the king was getting hold of his royal sword in the wrong way and adopting a very tense position, very much like a newbie, he decided to spring into action. Jon's blow was swift and precise, so much so that the king could not respond as he would've loved to. Jon could scratch his right sleeve and cut in a bit of his flesh.
"That shall leave an ugly scar." King Robert tried to sound funny, not caring much for the wound itself.
"Only if you live long enough to see it heal." Jon replied with a sarcastic growl.
Jon lost no time in striking once more. That time, the king was able to shield himself from any harm, but he was finding it a hard time to cope with Jon's fierceness and strength. He mentally regretted not training more. By that time, it was too obvious to Jon that the king had fallen out of the habit of training, and was able to wound him again and again on several non-lethal points. One scratch here and there, one on his left shoulder, another on his right thigh, a scrape on his left knee, a scuff on his left cheek, and so on. However, Jon was still fresh like a rose, no harm had been caused on him.
Then, Jon stopped after inflicting more wounds. He was hesitating.
"Have no mercy on me, kid. I shall have none." King Robert replied with his pride in a much more wounded state than his body.
"Of course you shall have none. I know what you deserve." Jon replied in a fierce whisper. "And besides, you won't even be able to scratch me."
The duel went on and on only because Jon wasn't feeling in the mood to kill the king. He wanted to tire him until he could no longer stand a chance, so that he'd be willing to surrender. The king's pride would be hard to bring down, but his body would soon give in, and then he would have no other choice but to acknowledge his defeat.
A few minutes later, King Robert was panting and loosing blood all over the place, while Jon had not even started to sweat.
"At this rhythm, it could take all day." Jon concluded, trying to point out the obvious. At that, the king just giggled a bit under his nose. "I mean it." Jon insisted.
"I'm not going to surrender." The king replied panting, finding it hard to speak. "Not even when all my men have died or surrendered."
"Fine with me." Jon replied not caring one bit.
"Your allies and your men… will favour me once I've… defeated you." The king replied a few words at a time, breathing in and out forcefully.
"Sure. Why not." Jon replied quite mechanically, showing he cared very little.
"I've got more… experience than you. I can make the tables… turn, you know." King Robert insisted.
"And I suppose that has been your plan all along, right?" Jon replied with no interest on playing his game. "You've let me wound you on purpose so that I'd be overconfident and then you'd teach me a lesson?"
"Maybe." The king replied daringly, smirking like a devil.
Then, Jon swiftly attacked him once more, but King Robert was able to elude him. Unfortunately, he hit his back against the glass panes so hard that they broke into smithereens. Bits of glass fell on him, hurting him far more than Jon would've. He groaned. Jon saw the duel was going nowhere. He wanted to end it as soon as possible.
"Don't stare at me like that, young man!" King Robert roared at him. "I shall have no pity for you!"
Having said that, King Robert jumped into action once more, making a frontal attack, but Jon knew better. As King Robert was close enough, Jon hit the hilt of his opponent with his sword and cut two of his fingers. The king's sword fell on the floor with a loud clatter while the poor man yelled due to the pain. He immediately kneeled down on the cream-coloured marble floor, now stained with the profuse bleeding from his two missing fingers. He even managed to get a few steps away from his opponent, close to the broken glass spread all over the floor close to the balcony.
"Yes, I can see that." Jon replied sternly mocking him. "Was this part of your plan too?"
King Robert stopped yelling and crying, and started growling and grunting, focusing on the pain instead of his enemy, still standing in front of him, sword in hand and ready to strike again if he wanted to. But Jon decided to be merciful, although the vision might have disagreed.
"You must see this duel is finished. You're not able to go on like this." Jon concluded seriously. "Your wounds are not too deep nor in vital points. Your fingers can still be reattached. You will be fine. You will live for as long as fate wants it, but you will do so far from here."
At that, King Robert started giggling loudly.
"Are you telling me that this is over? That you're taking over and condemn me to exile?" He replied almost laughing, as if Jon had just told him a joke.
"Yes, I am." Jon replied seriously.
"You must be kidding me." King Robert whispered still amused.
"You can go wherever you want, just not here in King's Landing." Jon went on. "You will not be able to see her again."
"What?!" King Robert snapped at Jon. "You're telling me she's not exiled with me?! Why?!"
"None of your business. Just go." Jon replied sternly.
"I'm not going anywhere without her!" King Robert yelled at him. "She's my blood, my daughter! Who do you think you are?!"
"The king." Jon replied sternly. His face was the portrait of an angry wolf, which left the kneeling man before him speechless. He made a brief pause and then he went on thus: "Robert Baratheon, as of today you're condemned to exile, all alone. Your daughter shall no longer be yours. You've made a pathetic use of her, you've only seen her as an object you can rule over, no matter how she feels or thinks. You only wanted her so that she could marry and give you a male heir in the near future. In addition, you've lied to her for your own treacherous ends. I shall not tolerate that you have any further interaction with her. It's over. Now go in peace, or I shall give orders that you're taken away from here by force."
"You've talked to her?"
"Yes. She knows you've lied to her."
"She'll hate you." Robert said then with contained ire. "You might've told her the truth that I haven't, but she'll still hate you. She respects me, she wants me in her life. You can't have her. The nobles will be mad at you if you keep her. She knows that she's your enemy at the end of the day."
"She isn't my enemy." Jon replied calmly and serenely. "You are. Only you."
"Are you sure?" The older man insisted as if he knew better than him.
"And she dislikes you a lot more than she's let you believe." Jon replied with determination, but politely.
"That ain't true."
"You won't let her be a doctor." Jon went on seriously. "And you haven't done a single thing to unveil the identity of the person who wanted her dead. On the other hand, I have. You don't even care to know who that person is. You simply blamed me because you had found it convenient. You've even tied her to her bed during a siege and war. You've not done a single thing to keep her safe."
"I HAVE! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT I HAVEN'T?!" King Robert roared back with his pride hurt.
"You've done nothing. If you had done something, I would've known." Jon replied calmly. "Marian would still feel loyal to you in a way. But she isn't."
"So… you're the one who knows the true identity of the person who wants my daughter killed. If it's not you, who is it?!"
"It's been Lord Tywin all along." Jon informed him. "Allegedly your faithful servant, and former father-in-law."
"What?" Robert asked dumbfounded.
"It's Lord Tywin who hates your guts and wanted to kill Marian. He's confessed it to me." Jon added straightforwardly.
That left Robert speechless. Yes, Lord Tywin had plenty of reasons to hate Robert and his daughter: the king had executed his offspring and dyed their surname with the tint of shame. That was something we wasn't willing to forgive. And he had the means to accomplish any goal he chose, like ending the Baratheon bloodline and giving the crown to whomever they chose.
"Was it him, really?" King Robert asked with a defeated attitude, staring absently into the void.
"Yes, he was." Jon replied calmly.
"Have you killed him?"
At that, Jon sighed. He was tired of talking with that idiot.
"None of your business."
"YOU HAVEN'T?" King Robert yelled back at him. "I've seen his bannermen, but I honestly thought that you had bribed them or something!"
"I said it's none of your business. Now leave!" Jon commanded.
"I'm not going anywhere! Lord Tywin is alive and you're going to give my Marian as a present to him, right?!" King Robert shouted at him in anger. "You're allies! You'll be handing her over to him, won't you?!"
"Are you nuts or what?!" Jon asked him tired of dealing with him. It was obvious he would never trust him for anything.
"No, you are nuts! You are insane! I'm going to deal with this!" King Robert eventually said with great determination. "Wait and see."
"You obviously have no idea of what's going on here, or what I'm planning to do, which, as I've already said, it's none of your bloody business." Jon said then with mild exasperation. "Lord Tywin shall never get to her. I promise."
"I shall not bear this, kid! You're a liar! You're a bastard son of a bitch! If you're not willing to kill Lord Tywin, I shall deal with this issue myself!" King Robert yelled at Jon with ire.
Then, he grabbed some bits of broken glass and threw them at Jon. He had been so fast that Jon didn't see it coming. Jon yelled in pain as he dropped his sword. The fragments had been carelessly stuck into his skin and flesh in several weak points where his armour wasn't protecting him, namely his neck and his hands, for example. He was bleeding profusely. He was struggling to get those bits out of his body, and grunted harshly every time he could get a fragment out of each wound.
Unfortunately, Jon was unaware that in the meantime King Robert had grabbed Jon's sword and had stood up. He wanted to take advantage of the situation.
King Robert aimed at Jon with his sword in a rather lousy way. He had fallen out of practice. Even though Jon was hurt, he could escape from his reach. Then, a cold laugh escaped from the king's lips.
"What is so funny?" Jon asked with an angry voice.
Out of the blue, King Robert slayed himself in the stomach with Jon's sword.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Jon shouted at him with bewilderment.
"She'll hate your guts when she sees this…" Robert said smiling. A thin trail of blood emerged from his lips. "Your sword in my body… She… She knows my story, about the war, what I did to your parents… My blood, our blood, spilled yours; now yours has spilled mine…" He knelt on the floor then. "She'll think you've done the same thing here. She'll realise that Lord Tywin is still alive, that she must be handed over to get killed… Or worse than that. No one will allow you to keep her alive. I would've protected her. I care for her. She'll hate you… and she'll die. It'll be your fault."
"No, she won't die." Jon replied with a pale, tense face. "She won't be handed over to Lord Tywin, or to anyone who wants to harm her. As for her well-being, what I say goes. I'll marry her. I haven't slain you. You have. She won't buy your story."
"Oh, yes, she will." He dared to giggle a bit, even. "She'll see my dead body at your feet, with your sword in my body, and she'll hate your guts, you idiot."
"No, you're the only idiot here." Jon replied whispering calmly, but with mild anger. She hadn't fulfilled her promise. "'Cos she's here. She's heard it all. Seen it all."
"What?" King Robert asked dumbfounded.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Hello, there!
So, this is it for today's chapter. I hoped you enjoyed it. :)
What do you think it's gonna happen now? Will Jon get mad at Marian? Will Marian chide King Robert? Will King Robert apologise? Will he die? Will Jon manage to make the vision untrue? Will Lord Tywin get what he wants?
Stay tuned to know the answers!
Don't forget to write a comment/review!
XOXO
Denim Jean