All rights belong to GRRM
Jon V
Riverrun was an interesting castle. It stood on a piece of land that was cut off from land completely, surrounded on all sides by rivers. The only entrance into the castle was the drawbridge, which was currently down so that merchants and riders could get in and out of the castle. The stone that made up the castle was red, but Jon couldn't place the material. Even still, the castle looked like it could put up a formidable defense, especially since it could become an island during times of siege.
Jon and Sam pulled up just a short distance from the castle, knowing full well that their journey from the Wall to Robb was so close to an end. Jon couldn't resist a smile from spreading across his face. He couldn't wait to see his brother again. Now he was just the minutes from the meeting he had been waiting for for a long time.
"This is it," Sam said quietly. For the past few days, the large lad had become increasingly quiet and it often took Jon several attempts to get his attention. The young warrior didn't know why his friend was so quiet, but all his attempts at finding out had come up short.
Jon nodded. "Aye, it is," he said. "I wonder how Robb will greet me?"
Sam shrugged. "You're his brother. He will welcome you as such. Why would he not?"
Jon frowned sadly. "He might think I abandoned the Watch," he said fearfully. That had been the one thing that had been nagging at Jon ever since he left the Wall. He knew that he didn't take the Black, and Sam was his witness. But would others believe him? Would Robb?
Sam gave his friend a reassuring smile. "Do you want to stand here and wonder all day or do you want to get it over with?"
Jon chuckled and urged his horse forward, cantering the remaining distance to the castle. On either side of the bridge, guards in fish-scale armor stood at attention, their shields displaying the leaping trout of House Tully. Inside the castle, Jon could make out northern soldiers walking around.
He nodded to them as he got closer. "Hello…." he began before he was interrupted.
"Arrest him!" someone demanded, their voice snapping with anger.
Jon looked up to see Lady Stark, followed by an older man, striding across the courtyard. The Lady of Winterfell had her finger pointed at Jon, her eyes blazing with fury. Jon slid out of his saddle, gesturing for Sam to do the same. He bowed easily.
"My lady." he greeted carefully.
By now, Lady Catelyn was standing in front of him, and she was far scarier up close. There had rarely ever been times that the Lady of Winterfell had ever yelled at Jon, as Lord Stark had always been there to curb her anger. But Eddard Stark wasn't there.
"You have no right to be here, bastard." she hissed. "You have abandoned your post at the Wall."
Jon shook his head. "I never took the Black…." he tried to explain before Lady Catelyn cut him off.
"I will not stand here and listen to your lies." she snapped. "You are a deserter and I will make sure my son gives you the same fate all deserters get."
The blood drained from Jon's face. "You misunderstand my lady…." he tried again, but Lady Catelyn would not listen.
"Guards, seize him!" she ordered, stepping back so that the guards could get to Jon.
The Bastard of Winterfell sighed and unbuckled his weapons belt and handed it to Sam, who looked shocked by the turn of events. Jon tried to give him a reassuring smile of his own, but it fell well short of the mark.
"Take care of the other one too Sam," he said, knowing that his friend knew what he was referring to. "Please." he looked down at Ghost, who looked confused and ready to attack the first man who grabbed Jon. "Stay with Sam Ghost," he ordered.
The direwolf whined but did as he was told.
Sam nodded as two guards stepped up, each grabbing Jon by the arm and leading him towards the dungeons. With Jon gone, Lady Catelyn turned her attention to Sam, her eyes seemingly assessing him.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"Sam….Samwell Tarly, my lady." Sam stuttered.
"Are you a deserter too?"
Sam shook his head quickly, the folds under his chin jiggling with the motion. "No, my lady," he said frantically.
Lady Catelyn sniffed, obviously not believing the large youth. She turned her back on Sam, addressing the man behind her. "Uncle, please have him detained in a room. I must inform my son of this," she said before walking away.
The man nodded, gazing at Sam. When Lady Stark was gone, he gestured for more guards to come forward. "Take care of the horses," he ordered.
Sam moved towards Jon's saddle, unstrapping the long parcel tied to it. He held it awkwardly in his hands along with Jon's weapon belt. He nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry sir, but he asked me to not let these out of my sight."
The man raised an eyebrow, looking over Sam. It was obvious that Sam was no warrior, and so he had no reason to worry if the large boy decided to try and fight. Besides, he was Robb's problem.
"Fine," he grunted, gesturing for Sam to follow him. As they walked, the man glanced over his shoulder, frowning. "You said your name was Tarly?" he asked.
Sam nodded. "Yes," he answered quickly, afraid that the man would snap at him like Lady Stark had on Jon.
"You're related to Randyll Tarly?" the man pressed, clearly not believing Sam.
"I'm Samwell, his firstborn," Sam answered. "I know I don't look like him."
"You don't." the man said bluntly. "I take it the other lad was Jon Snow."
Sam nodded. "Ye….yes," he answered.
"Robb told me he went to the Wall." the man commented. "Why is he here?"
Sam swallowed, trying to breathe and slow down his pounding heart. "Jon….we left before we took the Black," he explained. "He heard about Lord Stark's imprisonment and decided to come south to help his brother. He even had a raven sent from Last Hearth to Moat Cailin so that a rider could reach Lord Robb. He must know that Jon was coming."
"Robb never mentioned any message." the man said suspiciously.
"Jon sent it, I swear," Sam promised worriedly.
"Only Robb can verify your statement," he said. "I understand why Jon came south, but why did you?" the man asked, rounding on Sam, his blue eyes boring into the large youth.
The large youth nodded. "My father, he….he didn't believe that I was fit to be his heir. So he sent me to the Wall. Jon was my only friend and defended me against the other recruits. When he was getting ready to leave, I asked to go too. I would have died within a month without him." Sam said sadly. "I'm not much of a fighter.
The man gazed at Sam, his face like iron. After a few moments, he nodded and opened the door behind him. "No, I don't believe you are. I can't speak for you or Jon's fate, but I do not believe that you are not deserters," he said grimly. "But your fate is not for me to say, it is in Lord Robb's hands to do as he sees fit."
Sam nodded slowly, entering the room. "May I know your name ser?"
"Brynden Tully."
"You're the Blackfish," Sam said immediately. The only knowledge his father ever tried to drill into his head was about battle and fighting. The Blackfish was one such warrior that Randyll Tarly made sure Sam knew about.
Brynden nodded. "Aye, the same."
Sam glanced around the room. It was nice, far better than a dungeon. He looked back at the aging knight. "Jon may be a bastard, but he's also Eddard Stark's son. I know what I say doesn't hold much water, but Jon is still part Stark. If you believe anything, please believe that Jon would never abandon his duty. The only reason Jon is here is because he hadn't yet taken the Black."
Ser Brynden frowned but nodded. "I will inform Lord Robb of that," he promised before closing the door, leaving Sam alone.
Line Break
Jon was roughly thrown into an empty cell, pain flaring in his shoulder as he landed on the flagstones. He grunted in pain as he got back onto his feet, glaring at the guards.
"I wasn't resisting," he said, gritting his teeth.
The two men shared a look before shrugging, slamming the cell door shut as they left. Jon huffed and look around at his surroundings. All he had was a piss bucket and a scattering of hay to lie on. The dungeons had no windows, just two rows of three-sided rooms, slimy river rock making up the walls. The cell doors were made up of iron and wood, slightly rusty after the years.
"The Bastard of Winterfell." someone said from the cell across from Jon. "Odd seeing you here."
Jon turned to see a man appear from the shadows of the other cell. His once golden hair was dirty and matted down, a rough beard was forming on the lower half of his face, slowly covering his sharp jaw. He was garbed in a grubby shirt, breeches, and boots. The man looked like he had spent the better part of the year in the cell, but the smile and eyes were unmistakable.
The Kingslayer might have changed his look since the last time the two met, but even in a cell in the dungeons of Riverrun, the man still had that damn smirk of his plastered on his face.
"Ser Jaime." Jon greeted coldly. "I see you've done well for yourself in the war. Are you accommodating well to cutting down real warriors instead of old men?"
Ser Jaime's eyes narrowed as he glared at Jon. "Careful boy," he growled. "I don't need a sword to put you down."
"I have more fight in me than an old mad man." Jon shot back.
"You never answered my question." Ser Jaime commented, changing the subject. "Why are you here? Last we talked, you were quite intent on freezing your balls off at the Wall."
"I had a change of heart," Jon said. "My father was wrongfully imprisoned by Joffrey."
"Ah, Ned Stark." Jaime drawled. "How dreadfully unfortunate for him. But in case you haven't heard, he was committing treason."
"My father is the most honorable man in all of Westeros." Jon snarled. "He would never commit treason."
Jaime shrugged. "Eh, who cares," he said, walking back to sit on his bed of hay, leaning against the wall as he continued to gaze at Jon. "We're in here. Who gives a shit what we think."
"I won't be for long," Jon said, trying to convince himself as well as the Kingslayer. When he arrived, he did not expect to confront Lady Stark. Even when he tried to explain himself, she wouldn't allow him. His only hope is that Sam would be able to explain the situation to Robb.
"Is that right?" Ser Jaime asked sarcastically. "You really think Robb Stark will welcome you with open arms? What's going to stop him from treating you like a deserter?"
"Because I'm not," Jon argued.
Jaime shrugged, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the wall behind him. "Can you prove that?" he asked.
Jon glared at the Kingslayer, numerous insults floating through his mind. "Tyrion was wrong, it seems."
Jaime's eyes shot open as he glared at Jon. "Wrong?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
Jon nodded, pressing himself against the cold iron. "He spoke so highly about you when he traveled with me to the Wall. How you tried to help him ride when you were boys. I was fine with you being an arrogant prick if it meant that you valued family. Now I know you know nothing of family."
Jaime growled. "You have no idea what I've done for my family, bastard." he snapped. "Do not lecture to me about the importance of family. I actually know who my bloody mother is."
Then Jon did something that Jaime did not expect. He smiled. "I know who my mother is, Kingslayer. She died during Robert's Rebellion, and she was ten times braver than you could ever hope to be."
Ser Jaime didn't reply, just glaring at Jon, who returned the glare with equal ferocity.
"One day, you'll regret poking the Lion, Bastard." Ser Jaime said finally. "And I'll enjoy the moment I plunge my blade into your throat."
"Just make sure I'm facing you, I'd hate for you to get a bad reputation for killing defenseless opponents." Jon shot back immediately. "But who knows, perhaps you'll be on the other end of my blade as well. Wouldn't that be a way for the infamous Kingslayer to go out. Killed by a bastard."
"Careful what you wish for boy." Ser Jaime growled. "I am not the only Lion still on the prowl. You better hope you stay here. My father will crush Robb Stark and his friends, and then we'll see how you talk when your head is on the block."
Jon laughed. "I suppose your father has never made bear stew has he?"
Jaime frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Jon continued to smile, knowing it was annoying the Kingslayer. "The first step to making bear stew is kill the bear. The Great Tywin Lannister has to kill Robb first, not an easy task I promise you."
Jaime snarled but remained silent. He had no response to the bastard's insult, so he contented himself to imaging all the ways he would kill the boy when he was finally free. He would get his revenge, on the Stark whelp and his bastard brother. They'd all fall to his blade, one day.
A Lannister always pays his debts.