3rd Month of 299 A.C. Somewhere in the Stormlands

Lord Jon Connington

The King had returned Griffin's Roost to him and to his house, rewarding him for his loyal service, the usurper's brother was a prisoner in Griffin's Roost, and half the Stormlands was fighting for their rightful King, and yet there was a nagging feeling in Jon's mind. The bells of the Stoney Sept continued to ring, their ringing was growing ever louder, it seemed as though it would not stop. Not until the King was sat on the Iron Throne, though Jon wondered if they kept ringing because they were fighting for Aerys son not Rhaegar's. King Viserys was a proud man, strong and capable in a way Aerys had never been, but he was not Rhaegar, and Jon worried over how the King did not seem to care about that. The bells kept ringing and his thoughts continued to grow more and more muddled as the days went on. All that was there to relieve him from that burden was the fact that the King had sent him on a raiding mission. Word had come of Robert Baratheon marching to the Stormlands, gathering followers as he went, and so Jon had been sent out from Griffin's Roost with some five hundred men to hit and run, draw Baratheon into the trap.

The Baratheon army had not been that hard to find, a great sprawling of men and tents and pillars, and so many other things Jon is surprised someone else hadn't come to get them. Though he supposes it is understandable, after all Robert Baratheon is the crowned King of Westeros, for all he is a usurper, and men tend to follow the gods. Whichever ones those might be. That is a bitter thought, Baratheon got to the throne over Rhaegar's corpse as well as those of his children. The man does not deserve the throne, and yet he sits it and with Lannister gold and Florent treachery has held it for a long time. That comes to an end today, Jon is determined to silence the bells that continue to ring in his head, knowing that the only way he can do that is through dealing with Baratheon. His lance is strong in his hand as he moves forward, his men at his side and behind him, heavy horse and foot, not archers, not for this. This is merely a raid, a hit and run, though if Baratheon comes chasing, Jon will definitely engage him.

The drums of war sound as they move into position, he counts down from seven, and watches as his men get into position. They are trained and prepared, ready to make a move when the time comes. A moment passes, a heartbeat, and then another, then they are advancing through the course. His horse moves steadily under his command, making the time in little to nothing. Onward they go, his lance is held steady, the enemy turns to face them and is met by a smash as lances filter through. Jon does not relish the sound of men screaming in agony, but it needs to be done, they move forward, and he continues pushing through. His lance is strong, his grip is solid, onward they go, pushing, always pushing, there is not much more that can be done about this, onward they go, pushing and pushing. More and more men are falling, his lance remains in his hand until it is not, and then he is drawing his sword and they are engaging in proper knightly conduct. Through it all they ride, Jon's heart beating at a steady pace, through it all they go, swinging and hacking, cutting, ducking and dodging. Through it all they go, and more and more men come toward them. He swings and cuts, but presses onward.

Men are strange creatures, they will argue and bicker with one another, but when presented with a common enemy they will band together and fight to the bitter end. That is what is happening now, these men that are stanging with the usurper are fighting for him for some false sense of loyalty and hope that the man will give them something that is not his to offer. Still the fighting rages on, and Jon's sword is dripping red by the time he can come up for air once more. He finds the man he is looking for in the throng, Baratheon armour giving him away, his stag antlered helm another. Jon roars, and moves through to meet the man. He comes face to face with the man after watching him kill a friend of Jon's. Anger and grief spur him on as he swings his sword. Their dance begins, heated and frazzled all at once. Onward they go, swinging and blocking, dancing around one another on their horses. They fight and fight, and Jon can feel his body begin to protest under the weight of all of this. The bells keep ringing in his head, but he manages to push the ringing down as he cuts a dent on the man's armour, the man swings his hammer and Jon manages to avoid it for a while.

The fight continues around them, but to Jon there is only him and the man who took his love from him. The man who caused the chaos around them to happen. The man who must die for the bells to stop tolling in his head. He keeps fighting, even though his body is crying out for peace and a chance for life. He keeps going, swinging his sword, blocking hammer blows, and feeling his body groan and break under him. He keeps going, his sword is breaking, he is breaking, but he keeps going. Baratheon smiles then, a sight that angers Jon even more, and he roars a challenge, and yet Baratheon laughs, and then Jon knows why. His armour is covered in blood, the blow comes, and the lights go out, the bells keep ringing, and then he sees his love, dressed as he was the last time he saw him. Rhaegar looks at him a sad smile playing on his face, he tastes the kiss, and then screams as he sees Rhaegar fall.