Chapter 5: A Set Dance.
Jon.
It was a wondrous party. There were musicians and servants and summerwine and mead and delicious slabs of meat that melted in his mouth and girls, plenty of girls. Jon and Robb sat with the rest of their family among some of the other suitors. There was a blond smiling boy who's face could have melted ice, a skinny lad with bright red curls for hair, The Rohan boy Æsc, and a fat boy who looked so nervous that Jon gave him his glass of summerwine.
"Thanks." The boy said "I'm Samwell by the way."
"Jon. Jon Snow." Jon said shaking the boys hand as Robb turned away from the line of suitors to grab another mug of ale.
"I can't do it." He said gasping for air after he surfaced from the mug of ale. "I can't... I can't even breath." He said clutching his chest.
"Well maybe thats because you keep drowning yourself in ale, Stark." Jon suggested taking the mug away from his brother. "Listen, you'll do fine, much better then the poor chap with the neck collar. Just go up there and talk to the Princess alright? Just like we rehearsed. Give her the book and take all the credit for the idea." Jon smiled drinking from Robb's goblet. "Go on, you'll be fine."
"Fine he may be," The blond said with a smile "But he isn't any match for Renly Baratheon."
"Please." Æsc said. "Renly Baratheon would rather marry you then that Princess. Even if he won the tourney, he'd polity decline her hand and go snog you behind the tents." The boy across from them glared and stood as if to threaten the larger boy to a duel. but Æsc was on his feet just as quickly. "Go on Knight of the Flowers, hit me with your glove, lets start the Tourney a day early!"
"Æsc!" Jon cut in grabbing the boy's arm, Sam meanwhile looked at the more terrified, his eyes darting to every exit, while Robb snuck an other beer. "This is not the time, nor place! You'll see him in the ring soon enough!"
Æsc pulled his arm from Jon's grip and nodded "Yes. A fight without honor, as that would have been, is not a fight at all, but two boys rolling around in the mud." He sat back down with great force and the blonde Knight of the Flowers winkled his nose and stalked off toward Renly Baratheon.
"What are you doing!" Jon almost shouted as he turned back to his brother, watching him gulp down more liquor.
"Getting drunk, Snow." Robb replied and Jon wrenched a mug from his grip with a glare.
"You want to meet the king smelling like ale and piss? No!" Jon said standing his brother up and straitening his doublet. "Go and impress the Princess of Gondor... Now!" And Robb nodded, taking the satin wrapped book with him and started toward the High Table. Jon let out a sigh of relief.
"Wow." Sam said when he sat back down. "Your brother seems incredibly nervous. Why aren't you competing in the tourney, Jon?" Jon looked down and scratched Ghost and Grey Wind behind the ears before answering.
"Because I can't." He said finally watching his brother hand the book over to the Princess. "I'm naught but a bastard. And have no title, so I can not compete for her hand."
"Then let us give you a title!" Æsc exclaimed slamming his mug down "What do you say Sam? Huh? A proper title for a proper knight!"
Jon smiled sadly "I am no knight."
The Rider snorted and said "You are brave, standing up to Lores Tyrell like that, and me for that matter. You are strong, I've talked with your brothers about it. And you have showed more honor then most of the men here. Then Tyrell for sure. Seven Hells, even me! Now if that does not make you worthy of a Knight I don't know what does." Jon rolled his eyes as Æsc stood and raise a hand, placing it upon Jon's shoulder. "From hereon, your shall be known as Lord Snow, a bastard worthy of a Princess's hand."
"You're drunk Æsc." Jon said pulling his friend back into his seat before turning to watch his brother and the Princess again. Princess Lindânâ was speaking to Robb who suddenly turned and looked at Jon for help. Jon shrugged, completely unaware of what he'd been asked.
"I'm sorry, my Princess." Robb said after making a few gapping faces like a drowning fish. "It would not be appropriate."
Princess Lindânâ stood, pushing back her chair with a loud noise. "That is quiet alright Robb Stark." She said looking back at Jon. "You," She said pointing to him, "Will you dance with me?"
The hall had become very silent, Jon realized. No one was talking anymore, not the courtiers or the knights or even the serving girl. No, everyone was busily looking at him. At Borimir's bastard. The bastard of Winterfell. Jon felt his chest tighten considerably as Æsc clapped him on the shoulder and pushed him forward. He tired to remember all the stupid edict things Lady Catelyn had tired to teach him, about when it was alright to refuse royalty and when it was not. He couldn't think of any of her situations that included when a Princess asked you to dance.
The Princess didn't wait for his response, she descended the steps to the High Table and came to stand before him. He understood what Æsc had meant when he said she had a face that would launch a thousand ships. She wasn't much shorter then him, but he felt small in comparison. She had an air of command that he'd never experienced in a woman, even those of noble birth. She eyes were a liquid blue, that searched his face of any sign of hesitation, any weakness. She was beautiful, flawless skin and dark hair that looked like ink itself. He could see her father in her, and her mother too. The mother who was standing at the high table, eyes boring into Jon's forehead as if it would stop him from accepting her daughters offer.
"Yes, princess." He whisper after a moment, figuring it was the safest decision.
"And your name ser?" She asked and before Jon could reply to tell her he was just a bastard, Æsc cut in announcing that he was 'Lord Snow'. Jon turned away from the princess for a brief moment to glare at his friends, before the princess pulled him onto the the cleared space of floor.
"What shall we dance to Lord Snow?" She asked him.
"I... uh... You can pick." He said with an uncomfortably smile. While she turned away Jon looked toward his brother for help but found that Robb was smirking at him from Jon's old seat next to Sam and Æsc, all three of which were having a roaring time laughing at Jon's predicament.
"Can you dance a volta?" She asked and Jon nodded "Then that is what we shall dance too. Musicians, play us a volta please." Jon could hear the muttering in the crowd as the music started. Jon remembered when their Septa taught Robb and him the volta. He'd thought it was a bunch of stupid head jerks and fancy wrist flicks. Now, he was glad that the Septa had made him learn the stupid head jerks and wrist flicks. He could tell it was the princess's favorite dance when they started the stupid leap jumps, he was a little afraid that he looked like a clumsy goose next to her graceful movements. When he looked over at Robb he could tell from the look on his brother's face that he didn't look like a clumsy goose, and he was proud of it. Robb was the graceful one on the dancefloor, Jon was just the bastard.
When they got to the part where Jon was suppose to pick the princess up, and twirl her around, Jon was a little afraid that The Queen's wrath would strike him down once he put a hand on her daughter. But thankfully he was still alive when he set the princess down at the end of the dance. Jon finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
Princess Lindânâ smiled happily at him and touched his face. "You dance well." She whispered "Thank you." Jon nodded to her and felt the light touch of a smile on his lips.
"Thank you, your Grace." He said bowing to her before turning away and hurriedly crossing to where his brother sat. "Gods above." He said as he grabbed up Robb's goblet. "I've never been so scared in my whole life." He muttered as Æsc put down this own goblet and smiled happily.
"I think I'll ask the Princess to dance myself." He announced and started out onto the floor to catch the princess before she walked back up the High Table.
Jon let out a long sign as he watch the Rider lead the princess back onto the floor. "He has balls." Jon announced.
"You were ever so brave Jon." Sam said "I would have been too scared to say anything." Jon smiled and clapped him on the back.
"You could be brave too Sam." He said as a serving girl poured them both more wine. "Just go talk to the princess. She's just a person, y'know." Sam snorted and the pair jested at each other about a princess being a normal person.
"Jon, look." Robb said pointing over the heads of the other nobles as Arya ran off "Look at your sister." Sansa was currently dancing with some smug looking blond princeling and looked like the happiest girl on the face of the earth.
Jon scoffed "She'll be talking about that boy for the rest of the week now."
Robb nodded unhappily "That's Joffery Baratheon. From Hyarmen. I dislike that boy every much. He's not even of age. I wonder why he is here."
"Practice?" Jon suggested "Some day he'll have to fight with older more experienced boys to win the hand of a princess."
"I suppose you're lucky you'll never have to then, right Snow?" Robb laughed clapping him on the back with a smile. Jon smiled back uneasily before looking back out over the crowd of people. He didn't belong here anymore then Robb did. Neither of them were princes. Neither of them had proven themselves. And yet, the princess had picked him out of a crowed banquet hall. Why? And why did it matter to Jon so much? Those answers would surely be found at the bottom of his newly filled goblet, right?
