Jon's first chapter at Casterly Rock. We get to see his life there and the relationships he established with a few people.


JON III

When Jon opened his eyes, light had begun to filtrate through the panels of his window. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, trying to clear his mind from the strange dream he made last night. He had been walking around his room, but objects and furniture seemed much higher than usual. He looked at Ghost who lied next to his bed, still asleep. Jon groaned and rose up. He went to the window and opened the panels to look outside, to receive the sunlight straight into his eyes. He blinked, trying to reduce the amount of light he received, and looked down on the countryside.

The Westerlands were quite different from the North. The lands around Winterfell were plains or forests, here it was mostly hills and mountains, with valleys between. The Goldroad made its way through the horizon between ranges of hills. Jon was almost surprised the sun could find its way through the many mountains that lied between it and the castle.

Jon was impressed by the Wall, but it was nothing when compared to his awe when his eyes set on Casterly Rock for the first time. People said the seat of House Lannister was thrice higher than the structure he was supposed to defend a few months ago. When they arrived in view of the castle last week, they were at the beginning of the afternoon, and they could see it from such a great distance that they needed several hours to reach it. By the time they finally arrived at the Lion's Mouth, the great gate that gave on one of the many yards, it was almost night. Jon had realized that days grew longer as they rode further south, but Casterly Rock had given the impression that light was going down much quicker when they closed on it. It was because the sun set in the west, which made the great castle hide it and throw a long shadow that covered them long before they reached its doorstep and long before the sun was really gone. Winterfell was a great castle, but compared to Casterly Rock, it looked like a small holdfast. The castle wasn't only high. It was large as well. It wasn't as large as the Wall, of course, but Jon wasn't sure how many hours he would need to travel from one extremity of the castle to the other.

If the outside left him speechless, the inside didn't have to envy anything to it. He spent the last week exploring the castle, from the Great Hall to the courtyards. He also explored the countryside. The place was lavish, and that word didn't describe it with justice. Jon had never seen so much gold and luxury in his life. There were vaults in Winterfell filled with gold and silver, the result of the ancient Lords of Winterfell who amassed small amounts of riches through time, but no gold or silver was to be seen around the castle otherwise, except for a pin there or there, like the ones Theon Greyjoy liked to wear. Here, riches were exposed to the sight of everyone, and the girls wore dresses made of tissues Jon had never heard about or jewels made of precious stones he didn't know to exist. Margaery Lannister was the one to wear the most costly clothes. Sometimes Jon wondered if her wardrobe was as rich as the vaults of Winterfell.

Casterly Rock was a succession of gardens, yards, larders, vaults, halls, barracks, rooms and everything you could think of. Underneath, a vast complex of mines extracted the gold that made House Lannister rich over the centuries. Jon didn't think he would have enough of a lifetime to see all of it. He might lose himself exploring the castle one day if he wasn't careful. He still struggled to find the godswood.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "My lord, Lord Tyrion is waiting for you."

Jon shook his head. He almost forgot. "Tell him I'm coming."

He proceeded to put on some clothes for the day. His chamber was giving on the eastern side of the castle. The first time they showed him his personal rooms, he thought there was a mistake. The room was twice the size of the one he had at Winterfell. The bed was twice the size of his own back home as well. Jon found it queer to give a bed large enough for two people to sleep in to a single person. The mattress was thick, much more than anything he ever saw. The only thing that could have surprised him more would have been if a servant had been assigned to him personally. It hadn't been the case, and Jon was grateful for it. He lit his own fires, dressed, went to bed and left it without help, and he ate in the Great Hall with most of the household of Casterly Rock.

Today, however, he wouldn't break his fast with everyone else. He would break it with Tyrion Lannister. His squire, Tywin Frey, had come to tell him about that yesterday in the evening. Jon put on his clothes for the day and went to see Lord Tyrion after telling Ghost to remain in his room. Jon kept dressing like he did in the North, and this made it very easy for everyone to know who he was. He was the man who dressed the most plainly here. All the people he came across knew immediately that he was the bastard of Winterfell. It wasn't that easy to find his way to the personal rooms of the Lord of Casterly Rock, but he did. It was easier than to find the godswood. Still, he had to ask his way twice, which earned him a few surprised looks each time. If someone ever tried to seize Casterly Rock by force, Jon feared his men might lose themselves in the tunnels of the castle.

There were two guards that Jon recognized as men who travelled with him from the Wall who guarded the lord's apartments. One of them announced him and Jon was invited to step forward into the rooms. If he found his own room luxurious, then he was wrong. His father would have wondered through how many winters the riches in the lord's rooms may have allowed the entire North to be fed. At a table in the centre of the room, the Lord of Casterly Rock sat, his wife at his side. However, she stood up as soon as he entered.

"I suppose it's time for me to leave. I'll see you later," she said to her husband.

She kissed her husband and walked away, granting a smile to Jon on her passage. Jon bowed and said a my lady, like Sansa once reminded him to do when he was addressed by a lady. Jon hadn't spent much time around the Lady of Casterly Rock. She behaved civilly with him, but she didn't seem to be much interested in talking with him, or with knowing him better. It wasn't that different from Lady Stark, only she didn't show any sign of antipathy towards him. She behaved with him the same way she behaved with most of her household knights, something Jon wasn't far from being.

"Please, Snow. Come and help yourself," the small lord told him. Jon came and sat in front of the Warden of the West. He never thought he would break his fast with one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms one day.

"Lady Lannister is not eating with you?" he asked.

"Usually, yes, but she's been very busy lately. The time we spent in the North made us late with many things, and she must leave for Highgarden soon." Jon took some bread and started to put some butter on it. "So, how's been your first week at the Rock?" Lord Tyrion asked him as he chewed on a piece of bacon.

"Quite well, my lord."

"No need to call me my lord, Jon Snow. We are between friends here. There's no one to hear us."

"Very well, Tyrion."

At the same moment, the door opened to let a handmaiden come in. "Excuse me, my lords," she said, "but Lady Margaery wanted me to take a shawl. The air outside is colder than she thought."

"Of course, Lady Sera, take whatever Margaery needs," Tyrion told her. The handmaiden went to a room whose purpose Jon couldn't make out. There were at least six different rooms here, all that for only two people. Even his lord father and Lady Stark didn't have that much space. They only had their own room each, and they were barely larger than the other ones inside Winterfell.

"You said no one would hear us," Jon said. They both chuckled. The handmaiden with brown hair came back from the room where she was with a red piece of tissue that glistened into the light. Jon looked at her a moment as he laughed. She turned her face away and kept walking to the door to leave the apartments.

"I think this one has an eye on you, Jon Snow," the Lord of Casterly Rock said with a huge smirk.

"She doesn't," Jon said a little too quickly.

"I bet she does," he insisted.

"I don't wish to disappoint her, but a bastard of the North has little to offer her. What's her name? Sera Darwell?"

"Durwell. One of my wife's favourite's handmaidens."

"I know." Even though he seldom spoke with her, he already knew a lot about Lady Sera Durwell.

"So, not disappointed of the Rock so far?" his friend asked him, coming back on the topic.

"Not at all. There's a lot to do. Sometimes I don't know where to begin."

Jon spent his days training in the yards with the other knights, squires and guards, assisting to the audiences Lord Tyrion and his wife gave, and trying to visit the castle. The evenings were spent playing dice and drinking ale if not wine with his friends. Surprisingly, Jon had become acquainted with many members of the Lannister household pretty quickly. The fact he was a bastard didn't seem to matter here. The others welcomed him like they welcomed everyone else new here. His second night here, the other knights got him so drunk that he could barely stand the next day. They even went to Lannisport all together once, to visit a brothel. Jon had been the only one to not get a girl. One man he got along very well with was Ser Daven Lannister. Although he was almost ten years older than him, Jon had earned his respect after they faced each other on the sparring grounds. Since that first duel, they sparred together every day. The Lannister knight defeated him every time, but he was very friendly and never humiliated Jon. Quite the opposite, he advised him about how to fight better, and it worked. Jon could hold his ground a little better at every duel.

There were also many other knights and squires he spent time with, some of them even being bastards. He had developed a certain friendship with a few of them on the road from the Wall, but he met others here. He was really just a man like anyone else here, and he liked it. He didn't have the title bastard written on him for everyone to see, or if people knew who he was, they didn't seem to care.

"I've been thinking about the position I could give to you. Perhaps it would be better to try a few ones first, and then you could tell me what you would rather do. My cousin Daven is leaving tomorrow with a group of twenty knights to scour the region and arrest the robbers and criminals they might come upon. Would you like to go with him?"

"Of course." To see some of the country would do him some good after the first stunning week here.

"You won't be his squire. You'll be a man under his command like everyone else," Tyrion explained to him.

"That works for me."

"Good. I'll also have you try the position as guard here, or in the city Watch of Lannisport, not to mention our ships patrolling the Sunset Sea. You'll see that there's a lot of possibilities."

"Thank you." He meant it.

"Don't thank me. Thank yourself. If you weren't good at anything, I wouldn't have asked you to come. I proposed you to come here because I thought you could be useful in the Westerlands. Here, a man gets what he deserves through his deeds, not through his lineage."

Jon had no problem with that. That was exactly why he went to the Wall, to prove himself somewhere birth meant nothing. "I thank you all the same."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go. I have the docks to inspect, and I've got a lot to catch on, just like Margaery. Take whatever you need," he said, indicating the large amount of food on his table. And the Lord of Casterly Rock left him to finish his breakfast alone.

Later, Jon went to the training grounds. He went there every morning to practice. Many people were already practicing their swordplay or their shooting when he arrived. It was the main practice ground of the castle, and Jon knew there were others as well. Even then, this practice ground was already larger than the one they had at Winterfell. Ser Benedict Broom, the master-at-arms of Casterly Rock, was looking at two boys of Sansa's age sparring. They were the two young brothers, Martyn and Willem Lannister, the children of Ser Kevan Lannister who was away at King's Landing, serving on the small council with Jon's father. Some people who weren't sparring greeted him as he walked to the armory.

Inside, there was only one other person, and he smiled when he saw Jon walk in. "Hey, Jon. I was wondering where you were."

"Hi, Teron. Lord Tyrion wanted to talk with me this morning."

"About what?"

"To know if I was well settled, and to tell me I'm going on patrol tomorrow."

"With Daven?"

"Aye," Jon answered, not without surprise.

"We're going to be on the same patrol then. I'm going too."

Jon was glad of it. Teron Hill was a bastard, just like him, from a minor house of the Westerlands. Jon liked him, since both were quite similar. Teron had thought about joining the Night's Watch just like him. His father was a brother to the lord of House Payne, but during a tour of the Westerlands Lord Tyrion made about a year ago, he stayed at the seat of the Paynes for one night. Teron hadn't been present when the Lord and the Lady of Casterly Rock arrived at his uncle's keep. He was hunting down criminals in a nearby village on his house's territory with five other men. Only one of them was a knight. The criminals had proven to be more organized than they thought and ambushed them on the road, killing everyone but Teron. He barely managed to come back alive, heavily wounded. It so happened that the day he came back was the last day the Lannisters spent at the keep of House Payne. Before he left, Lord Tyrion had ordered Lord Payne to send Teron back after the criminals once he recovered, with twice the number of men they had originally, and that this time Teron would lead these men. If he was to neutralize the bandits, then he was to come and see him at Casterly Rock.

Teron needed time, but within a week he was back in the fields with a dozen men under his command. Two weeks later, he came back with the heads of the leaders of this criminal group, and within half a year he rode to Casterly Rock where he was knighted by Ser Daven Lannister and given a position as a household knight. He was of Jon's age at the time, and all this had happened only a year ago.

Jon was very impressed by the household the Lannisters were maintaining. It wasn't really its size, which was overwhelming just like the castle itself. His father would certainly have said it was too big for nothing. It was the composition that fascinated Jon. At Winterfell, most of the people who lived in had kin who lived in the castle before, or they all came from noble families. That wasn't the case here. Many of the people Jon had come across were the first in their families to reach the Rock, like they called it. Some knights or guards here were bastards, but even more, some came from the smallfolk as well, without any tie to a powerful family. They gained their position thanks to their doings and realizations, and it seemed it had been like that for a very long time at Casterly Rock. Most of the people Jon knew were already there when Lord Tyrion became Warden of the West. They had been recruited under Tywin Lannister's rule. The father and the son chose the people serving them for their merit rather than their origins.

"Well, I'll have at least one sympathetic face for a week," Jon quipped.

The other bastard laughed. "Let's see if you'll say the same after I make you roll in the mud today."

"I wouldn't bet on that if I were you."

"Why not? I'm betting everything you want you'll be yielding to me before the end of the day."

"Sorry, I don't place bets." Their father strongly taught to Jon and his brothers to never gamble.

"Come on. It's innocent. Not a serious debt. No money. It will be fun, you'll see."

"All right. What kind of bet? What will you lose if I defeat you?"

"Let's say… my pride. I will act like your squire for the first day of patrol tomorrow."

Jon laughed. "That means you will help me don my armor, fetch my water and tend to my horse?"

"Yes, my friend. You got it all right." He smirked. He didn't think he could lose.

"Very well." Only for the pleasure to see a knight act as a squire for a single day, he supposed that was worth it. "And what will I lose if you are the one to defeat me?"

"You'll have to lose your shyness before girls." Teron had a malicious gaze in his eyes. "You'll go and talk to that handmaiden."

"That's out of the question!" He would never do that.

"Of yes, you will. A bet is a bet. You agreed."

"I never…"

"You did. You said very well when I told you my punishment if you defeat me, and you said it. Too late to turn around."

Jon sighed. "As you wish." He had to defeat Ser Teron Hill at all cost.

Tyrion already teased him this morning because of the red that came to Lady Sera Durwell's cheeks when she looked at him. Jon hadn't noticed that until recently, but it seemed the Lord of Casterly Rock wasn't the only one to notice it. Even Daven commented on that two days ago. He was talking with Jon and surprised the handmaiden looking at them from behind Jon's back. He wasn't sure what to make of it. In Winterfell, no girl ever showed an interest in him. Why would they? He was only the bastard, while his brother was the future Lord of Winterfell. Jon hoped the girl would forget him soon. He didn't want to cause her sadness. She would have nothing from a marriage with him. Her family would never accept. And he wouldn't sleep with her. He wouldn't take the risk of fathering another bastard like him, or to dishonor her. Anyway, they barely addressed a few words to each other since they met in the godswood of Winterfell.

Teron was ready before Jon, so his friend left the armory before Jon was done preparing. When Jon came to the training yard, there were about ten duels taking place at the same time. Teron was dueling with Ser Cleos Frey. Jon thought it would be a good idea to find someone else to spar with. He may be lucky enough to avoid a duel with Teron, and this way he had no risk to lose it. You cannot lose a battle that is not fought. Tyrion told him that once. Before he could start his search, a loud voice called after him.

"Jon Snow! Come here."

He turned to the origin of the voice and saw a burly knight with yellow hair, sidewhiskers and a beard as yellow as his hair waving his hand, signaling him to approach, which Jon did.

"Ser Daven," Jon greeted the knight he would ride with tomorrow.

"Himself. Bother for a little practice?"

"Not at all."

They took position face to face. "Be careful, Jon. You have the master-at-arms of Casterly Rock watching you."

Jon looked to his right to see that Ser Broom was effectively watching them. He immediately felt a horrible pain on his left flank. He stepped back, his hand on his side, Daven Lannister laughing at him. "You let yourself be distracted too much, Jon Snow."

"We hadn't begun," Jon protested. Daven's practice sword was the cause of his pain in the flank.

"Why? Because we didn't agree to start together? Do you think most of the fights with swords begin when two opponents stand face to face and decide on a common basis to draw their swords? That's not how it happens in real life. You're being attacked at the moment you expect it the least. You'd best remember that tomorrow when we go on patrol." It seemed Tyrion Lannister informed his cousin that Jon would go with him. "If we meet any problem during the following days, it will be bandits ambushing us on the roads, or we'll be the ones ambushing them. The element of surprise and distraction is often decisive in these skirmishes. If you're not focused at all time, then the first man hidden at the right place will cut you in half. Look at what I just did. You would be dead if I had a real sword."

Jon listened to the words. "You could have told me without doing this," he complained.

"We learn better with some pain." He made a massive roar and flung his sword horizontally. Jon positioned his own sword just in time to block it, or at least partially. The force of the hit was too great to totally stop. Still, he managed to divert the blow enough. The blade only scratched his armor. The Lannister knight laughed out loud. "See. No better way." Jon soon joined him in his laughter.

"Good. In position now," the knight said.

Ser Daven held his sword before him and Jon did the same. The knight was very well trained, and stronger than Jon. He seldom lost a fight. He thought he noticed that Daven was the one to make the first move more often than usual, so maybe he could have an element of surprise if he launched the first attack. Jon quickly decided that was what he had to do. He sent a quick blow in the legs that Ser Daven blocked easily, but it wasn't meant to get through his opponent's defense anyway. He swung his sword on Daven's left side, and he parried again. He launched an attack against Jon, and Jon stopped it, but he was forced to step back. Daven positioned himself in a defensive stance again. Jon brought a blow to his head this time, but without success. Jon made several attacks, all blocked by the knight, who only moved when necessary and forced Jon to retire, but never stroke back. Jon grew frustrated and attacked more quickly and more strongly than before. It lasted for a very long time. Finally, when Jon stepped back once more, the Lannister knight counter-attacked. His blows were powerful, and Jon could barely divert them. The fifth or sixth attack brought his sword on the side and Daven brought his own blade to Jon's neck. It only stayed on the neck. It barely touched his skin.

"You're dead, Jon Snow." He removed the sword. Daven removed his helmet and Jon did the same. Jon was panting in his full armor, while his opponent almost breathed as easily as if they were drinking ale. The knight chuckled lightly. "You got impatient, and careless. Wrong thing to do. In battle, we must stay focused, no matter the circumstances. Some battles are very difficult and very long." Jon sighed. "Don't get me wrong, boy. You fight well, but fighting against a single opponent in a training ground is very different from fighting real men on the battlefield, or outlaws on a road, or in a forest. You may have your first taste of real fight tomorrow."

He patted Jon vigorously on the shoulder and went to see someone else. Jon sat for a moment to catch his breath. Daven Lannister was a good man from what he could tell. His mocking manners reminded him of the Imp sometimes. Were all the Lannisters like this? The Kingslayer mocked him when he was at Winterfell about going to the Wall. However, Jon knew now that there was more than he thought behind the mockeries when it came to a Lannister. Daven's lessons might be useful tomorrow when they would leave the castle.

"Ser Daven can say what he wants, you fight quite well," a voice near him said. Ser Benedict Broom had taken a seat beside him. "Much better than many people here. Did you have a master-at-arms at Winterfell?"

"Aye. Ser Rodrik Cassel."

A frown appeared on the mid-aged man's brow. "Never heard of him, but he seems to have done a good job. You should favor less your right, however." He knew it. Ser Rodrik often reminded him of that back in the North. "A good knight must be able to attack as well from every side."

"I'm not a knight," Jon replied.

"Not yet. You wouldn't be the first bastard to get a knighthood."

He stood up and left Jon alone. Jon wouldn't mind gaining a knighthood. It might be his best chance to advance. Still, he didn't have it yet. After a few moments, he went to seek another opponent. Jon won most of the other duels he participated to. Some were close victories, but he defeated his sparring companions all the same. Morning was reaching its end and Jon just defeated Ser Lucion Lannister. People were beginning to gather their things and remove their armors for dinner, when someone he would rather not hear yelled at him.

"Hey, Jon. You forgot about our duel." Teron Hill faced him before Jon could escape somewhere.

"It's no longer time for practice," Jon tried.

"Nonsense. Only one last duel. I want to see you speak to that girl."

Jon realized many people were looking at them. It seemed he had no way to evade the situation. "All right. One duel," he conceded.

He and Teron took position, with half the men of the courtyard watching them, including Daven. "Okay, everyone," the bastard from the Westerlands declared with a powerful voice. "You are all witness that if Jon Snow loses this duel, he will have to go and speak with a certain handmaiden."

There was unanimous laughter. Jon felt red coming to his cheeks. It was a good thing he already had his helmet on his head. "And if Teron Hill loses, he must act as my squire for all day tomorrow." New bursts of laughter.

"Don't count on it," the knight replied. He placed his helmet on his head and took a stance for battle.

They eyed each other for a moment. Jon decided to let him take the initiative. And he did. His blows were not as powerful as Daven's, but they were not to be dismissed either. Jon had won half his duels against Teron Hill, and he lost the other half. Swords collided, clanged, ducked, flung, swung. It was a dance where one mistake could decide whether Jon would be forced to speak to Sera Durwell or if Teron would act as a squire tomorrow, cleaning his boots and making fire for him. Attacks and counter attacks followed each other closely, none managing to break through the other's defence. Jon was growing impatient. Was there no weakness in Teron's stance? He thought about trying a series of quick blows in the hope that it would unbalance his opponent. The last time he did this, Daven took the advantage. He kept his forces while Jon spent his uselessly. He and Teron were about equal in fighting skills.

He let Teron attack him for a moment, studying the points where he was weaker. He favored attacking the chest and head instead of the legs. Jon never risked to lose his balance, but he saw his opponent about to lose hos own at least once. He waited for a powerful attack. Jon feigned to almost stumble, and when Teron unleashed a powerful strike toward his head, Jon ducked and hit the knight hard on the pads of his left leg. Using the distraction it provided, Jon kicked him in the leg, and his opponent fell on his knees. Jon made a quick and decisive blow that Teron stopped. Jon pushed hard, his muscles tensing under the effort. The effort his opponent made was superior in the end.

Jon got pushed back and lost his balance, Teron ran to him, swinging the word at the level of his head. Jon lowered his head and made a similar movement with his own sword that crushed heavily against Teron's flank. The knight tumbled on the ground, face first. Jon gained back his stance quickly enough to bring his sword on Teron's back.

"Surrender?" he asked.

A moment passed. Then Teron released a heavy sigh. "Surrender."

Many people cheered around, and laughed too. Two of them helped Teron on his feet. He would have to be a squire tomorrow, and to the bastard of Winterfell, but that wasn't what relieved Jon the most. They all went back laughing to the Great Hall where they dined together, Teron being the target of most of the mockeries. Jon then went with Daven and the other knights to prepare their patrol.

Later, he went back to the training yards and practiced shooting arrows. He wasn't very good at it, but he had to remain good enough. As he took a pause and watched other men firing arrows on the targets while he drank some water, a small voice called his name next to him.

"Hi, Jon."

He turned, a smile on his lips. A girl who was about Arya's age stood next to him. The resemblance between his little sister and Joy Hill didn't go farther however. The girl with green eyes and golden hair was shy and held her hands protectively close to her tummy. Her behavior was all the opposite of the girl whose hair Jon loved to ruffle. She tried to act as a lady, though she didn't manage it very well. She was also very quiet when Arya was bursting with energy. You would never see Joy Hill shoot arrows like Arya did to laugh at Bran. Still, she remembered Jon of Arya. As a bastard, she was almost an outcast as much as he and Arya were at Winterfell.

"Hi, Joy. How are you today?"

"I'm fine," she said very sweetly. She almost looked afraid to talk. Jon tapped the place next to him on the bench to indicate she could sit. She executed herself very slowly and looked at the people shooting. She glanced towards a squire people nicknamed Tyg. "He's very good."

"Aye, he is." Despite being very young, Tygett Sarsfield almost never missed the target, and his arrows were close to always at the center of the target. Jon didn't think he could achieve such precision one day.

"His name makes me think to Egg, you know. Ser Duncan the Tall's squire. That's a funny name."

Jon repressed a laugh. The Egg in question was King Aegon the Unlikely, who made Ser Duncan the Tall Lord Commander of the Kingsguard when he became king. Instinctively, Jon ruffled her hair. She giggled. "So, done anything interesting today?"

"I had lessons with Maester Creylen. I like him. He's always very kind with me, but I wish Uncle Tyrion could help me. He did it before."

She seemed sad. From what a friend told him, Joy was a very lone child. Jon could almost recognize himself in her. They were both bastards, and in some way set aside from the others because of that. Jon had almost ended at the Wall because he wasn't a legitimate child. He wondered where Joy would end. With the Silent Sisters? He hoped not.

He knew the Lord of Casterly Rock, although not necessarily very close to her, was very protective of his bastard cousin. Joy called him an uncle, but in fact she was a cousin of the Imp, the daughter of his favorite uncle, Ser Gerion Lannister. One day, Ser Benedict's son, Alexander, told him that a knight was removed from service because he dared to mock publicly Joy Hill about her bastard status. Jon found it somewhat drastic. If every person who mocked him for the same reason had to be removed from Winterfell, his father would have to make many changes to his household. At least, the little girl had a family who cared about her. They were both luckier than most. On the other side, Joy had no brother and no sister, and her father was dead. Jon may never have known his mother, but at least he had a father, brothers and sisters who loved him. Joy had none of this.

"But I managed to make my sums all alone," she said proudly.

"I'm glad of it," Jon answered to her, all smiling. She smiled as well. She was a very sweet child.

"I heard you beat Teron this morning."

"Aye, I did."

"Everyone is talking about it." Rumours spread fast inside Casterly Rock. "Martyn and Willem say they want to fight like you when they'll be older." The two sons of Kevan Lannister, wanting to fight like a bastard. It seemed everything was possible in the Westerlands. "Is it true that your sister is betrothed to the king?"

"Aye, she is."

"So… she will be queen one day."

"Aye, she will."

"I didn't like Joffrey when he came here. He looked… I didn't like him. He spoke as if he knew everything. And he laughed at me. I hope your sister won't marry him. And he looks like a girl."

Maybe she had more in common with Arya that he thought. They both despised Joffrey. Jon found that Prince Joffrey looked like a girl too. He had sent a raven to King's Landing after he arrived to tell his lord father that he was well and happy here.

"I'll tell you a secret, Joy. I hope Sansa doesn't marry Joffrey me too." They both chuckled a little. Two bastards laughing together on a bench while people were shooting arrows not far away.

Jon went back to shooting. During another pause he made, Joy asked him if he could show her how to use a bow. Maybe she had much more in common with Arya than he thought. He couldn't tell her that he would. She wasn't his sister. She was brought back to her chamber by her septa about an hour later.

After the supper, Jon decided to visit the godswood of Casterly Rock. Ghost followed him. He wouldn't come back before a few days, so better pay his respects to the Old Gods before he left. The corridors of Casterly Rock were well illuminated with torches at all times, and those on the sides of the hill had windows carved into the stone. He wondered if there was a heating system similar to the one in Winterfell, with hot water from the hot springs in the ground running inside the walls. Jon doubted it. There were mines under their feet, the source of the Lannister's wealth, not hot springs.

Jon watched his shadow grow and reduce as he walked along the tunnels. At this hour in the North, it would be complete darkness, but here in the Westerlands, the sun had not entirely disappeared and there were still a few shades of light, though not much. It would be night very soon. Jon tried to be careful, but it seemed that wasn't enough. He lost his way. The godswood was in an almost deserted section of Casterly Rock, with very few occupied rooms nearby. One of the Tyrell knights who served Lady Lannister once told him there was a maze at the entrance of Highgarden, to lose anyone who would try to take the castle. Jon highly doubted it was as much a labyrinth as the tunnels he was lost in right now. He didn't recognize at all the place where he was. Everything was so alike here.

He turned a corner to almost bump into someone. "Sorry," he said.

"Jon, I'm glad to see you. Hello, you." She knelt to stroke Ghost's fur. The direwolf let her do.

Jon was glad to see her as well when he realized he almost bumped into the only other Northerner in this castle. He had spent a lot of time with her on the road from Winterfell. It so happened that Mira Forrester liked to take a walk every evening before she went to bed. She told him she had this habit from her time at Ironrath, when she used to walk in the grove of ironwood behind her home every day before she went to sleep. She continued when she was at Highgarden, the castle offering many gardens and places to wander around. On the road, Jon accompanied her in her walking, since she couldn't get too far from the Lannister retinue without an escort. The road was full of outlaws who wouldn't hesitate to attack a young girl all alone. She had found Jon close to a campfire one evening and asked him to escort her the first time. Jon didn't know why, but he remained near a campfire every evening afterwards, knowing she would need someone to follow her.

That was during these walkings that he got to know her better. Mira Forrester was the eldest daughter of Lord Gregor Forrester of Ironrath and Lady Elissa Branfield. Born in the North, she was sent to Highgarden by her mother who wanted her to learn the ways of the south and became a handmaiden to Margaery Tyrell before she was married to the Lord of Casterly Rock. She followed her mistress when she moved to the Westerlands and remained at her service since then. She had four brothers and one sister, worshipped both the Old Gods and the New, prayed every day, loved to read, spoke two languages from across the Narrow Sea, knew the whole history of the North by heart and loved apple pie. Jon knew her better than anyone else in Casterly Rock thanks to their discussions in the evenings. Since they arrived, they didn't meet as often as before, with her duties towards Lady Lannister, but she still introduced him to Joy Hill a few days ago.

"Me too," he told her. "I was going to the godswood."

"Well, you're heading the wrong way. Come with me, I was going there me too. And don't worry. I lost my way countless times in my first days here."

He made a very short chuckle and followed her. "Thank you."

"I heard you had quite a fight this morning in the training yards."

Rumors really spread quickly here. "Aye. It's Teron. Teron Hill. He made our duel quite… public."

"He also made public that you would have to speak to a handmaiden if you lost the duel." She was looking at him with an amused look. "I suppose the handmaiden in question was Sera."

He laughed nervously. "He forced me to make a bet about it."

She smiled discreetly. "That's not the first time it happens, and certainly not the first time a woman is involved. But you won, I heard."

"Aye. Now he'll have to be my squire tomorrow."

She chuckled so lightly that Jon barely heard it, but her timid smile expressed her feelings clearly enough. "Perhaps he'll think twice before making a bet next time."

Jon nodded, but then asked seriously. "Your friend Sera… I hope she doesn't… I mean, really, she doesn't… Concerning me."

Mira looked away. "Maybe."

"I… I don't want to disappoint her. I'm only a bastard, and… To be honest, I don't know her." What he knew of Sera Durwell all came from her friend. "I'm not interested. I don't want her to get ideas."

"Don't worry," she said, smiling reassuringly. "Sera blushes whenever she sees you, but in truth she wants to marry someone who could give her a position. She won't make any move on you."

Jon sighed in relief. "Good. I'm glad to have won this duel."

"I can imagine."

They continued to walk for a moment without talking, but Jon broke the silence after a moment. "So, how are things since you came back?"

"Very busy. Lady Margaery has a lot of work to do, and she wants it done as quickly as possible."

"Why? Is there some reason to worry?"

"She spent a lot of time in the North. She and Lord Tyrion weren't supposed to stay there for so long. Lord Tyrion decided to visit the Wall and it made their stay much longer. Now she must catch up with a lot of things, and she wants to go to Highgarden soon."

"Why is that?" Lord Tyrion told him about it, but he didn't explain why his wife wanted to go to Highgarden at all cost.

"She wants to see her family again. And there's the wedding, too."

"The wedding?"

"One of her cousins is getting married. Willas Tyrell. She wants to be there for the ceremony."

"For a cousin?" Jon found it queer. He could understand if it was her brother who was getting married, but a cousin? Not that Jon could have any idea what it was to have cousins. He had none. His uncle Brandon and aunt Lyanna both died without children during King Robert's war, and his uncle Benjen joined the Night's Watch, so he fathered no children either. Maybe he had cousins somewhere, sons and daughters of his mother's sisters and brothers, but he had no idea of who they were, or if they even existed.

"He's almost like a brother for her. A big brother, really. I met him in Highgarden. He's very kind, and a good man. Lady Margaery loves him very much. I believe she loves him more than her actual brother."

"That much?" She nodded. It surprised Jon that someone would love a cousin more than her brothers and sisters. "Will you go to Highgarden as well for the wedding?"

"Yes, I must."

"It seems I'll take your place as the only Northerner in Casterly Rock for a time." They smiled at each other. "I hope you'll come back quickly."

He felt better knowing there was someone else from the North around. He could speak with Mira about things he couldn't really talk about to people of the south. "I won't come back."

That startled him. "What do you mean?"

She stopped and looked at him. "It's a wedding, Jon. A very particular wedding. That's why I'm going there with Lady Margaery."

"I know, you told me, but I don't understand…" She raised an eyebrow and looked at him strangely, as if she was saying to him that he was missing something. "Wait… Is that your wedding?" Her lips turned up. "You're the one marrying Lady Lannister's cousin?" That was unbelievable.

"I know, this is surprising, but that's the truth."

Jon winked a few times. "Aye, I'm surprised. Why didn't you tell me before?"

She shrugged. "A lady must be allowed some secrets, as Lady Margaery would say."

Jon was confused. He thought he knew Mira enough, and all this time she was betrothed and he didn't know. "Well, congratulations."

"Wait for the wedding. Let's continue." They resumed their walk to the godswood. Ghost whined a little and Mira scratched him between the ears.

"How is he?" He was curious as to who his friend would marry.

"Very kind and gentle. Handsome too. He raises hounds, horses, hawks. He is very bookish and intelligent. He thought about becoming a maester once. In fact, we came to know each other well because we both spent hours reading in the library of Highgarden."

"I see." He chuckled. Ghost bared his teeth. "I'm just surprised that you're marrying a Tyrell."

"I know, it's strange. He proposed to me about a year and a half ago at Old Oak. My mother is very enthusiastic. She hoped I would marry a minor lord of the Reach one day, or his heir, but she never thought I would marry a nephew of the Lord of Highgarden. She told me she couldn't believe it when she received the raven that announced the news."

Jon tried to picture that. He imagined his own family being a minor house like the Forresters. House Forrester was quite rich thanks to the trade of ironwood, but they were still a minor family who could only raise a few hundred men at most. They weren't even directly sworn to House Stark. They were bannermen of the Glovers, who in turn were sworn to the Starks. Three steps separated them from a direct oath to the Iron Throne. For a Tyrell to marry a girl from a minor house, one from the North furthermore, it was very unlikely. And yet it was about to happen to Mira.

"Did Lady Lannister arrange all that?" He knew that Margaery Lannister was very close to Mira. Could she be fond enough of her handmaiden to arrange her a marriage within her own family?

"No, that was Willas's idea. Lady Margaery only made sure her own parents would accept."

Willas Tyrell had to love Mira very much if he wanted to marry her despite her status. Not that Jon could blame him for wanting to marry her. "Well, it seems I'll be taking your place as the only Northerner at Casterly Rock forever. I'll miss you."

"I'm not gone yet, Jon. Lady Margaery still has at least a few weeks to spend here before we go. Here we are."

They had arrived before the godswood, if you could call it that way. The godswood of Casterly Rock was in fact a cave almost entirely filled with the branches and the roots of a gigantic twisted weirwood. People called it the Stone Garden. It was very different from the one at Winterfell and Jon wasn't entirely sure if it could be considered a godswood. Still, it was the closest thing to a godswood they had here, and his father wouldn't want him to ignore the Old Gods.

Mira already knelt on the ground. Jon sat next to her and began to pray. Some time later, he opened his eyes. His father told him he didn't necessarily need to pray in any specific way when he was in the godswood. Only keeping your mind on them was enough. You could let it wander, as long as you kept a place for the gods. He sat on one of the many roots, the carved face in view. However, it wasn't what attracted his attention the most.

Mira was still sitting in a praying position, the same one he found her at Winterfell. Ghost laid still not far from her. He had become very familiar with Mira as they walked every evening while on the road. He seemed to have taken a liking on her, and from his reaction after she told Jon that she was going to leave, he didn't enjoy the prospect of seeing her go.

Jon didn't enjoy it either. Mira was a welcomed presence at Casterly Rock. She was the only other person from the North here, and she was very kind to him from the very moment they met. Jon still hardly remembered their first encounter years ago, but it seemed to him he must have been blind to not notice her at this moment, even is she stayed only for a night. She didn't seem to care at all that he was a bastard. She even went to speak with Lady Stark after they met her in the inn at the crossroads. She was a very good friend, and she helped him to be prepared for the time he would be at Casterly Rock. He would somewhat feel alone without her.

He looked at her. She was so quiet, looked so much at peace, her eyes closed, her head bent forward, her hands joined on her knees. He had never seen someone so calm and serene in his life, discreet yet of pleasant company, simple yet clever, displaying no emotion yet very sensitive. He knew almost everything about her and her family, from her father called Gregor the Good, her mother who lost most of her family in Robert's war, her uncle who was the last survivor of her mother's family, her eldest brother Rodrik who suggested her books to read in the ravens from her home, her other older brother Asher who was exiled in Essos, her sister Talia who sang beautifully and her twin Ethan who played the luth, and Ryon who was only a baby when she left for Highgarden. He just got to know her, and she would leave. In some way, he was angry at Willas Tyrell for taking her away. Couldn't she marry a Lannister instead of a Tyrell? Daven, for example. He briefly spoke with the knight about Mira once, and he had a lot of respect for her and her family. He would certainly be as good a husband for her than Lady Lannister's cousin at the other side of the world.

She was positioned exactly the same way he found her months ago at Winterfell. A few months that went by like a bolt shot from a crossbow. He looked at her, watching every detail. He knew that behind her closed eyes were clear green eyes, always kind and sweet, yet piercing. Her pale face was free of any of her brown near black hair, them being brought together by a bun behind her neck to let them fall in a tail behind her back. The pale skin on her face was the same on her hands and arms joined together as she prayed, in a delicate grip. She wore a brown jerkin with leaves' symbols that shone under the light of the sun or the fire over a light blue dress that let her arms bare. She wore heavier and longer dresses back in the North, but when they rode past the Neck, she began to dress more lightly, though not too much. Jon had seen the other women at Casterly Rock, especially those who accompanied Lady Lannister, and in comparison, Mira was dressed very decently. Only her arms were displayed. Jon's eyes lingered on them for a very long time, and on her face, and on her hair. He understood why someone would want to marry her, even a Tyrell. He would miss her.


I hope you like how I protrayed Joy Hill, and how I tried to depict Tyrion's household from Jon's perspective. Despite the fact that Tywin is a from the nobility and obviously considers the common people as inferior people, I think he would have prioritized competence and deeds over birth when it came to choose his household, who still remained servants for the most part. There would have been no reason for Tyrion to stop this policy.

The character of Tygett Sarsfield is a cameo from "The Changing of Seasons", a three part fiction of Game of Thrones by SerGoldenhand.

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Next chapter : Ned