Ninth Month of 280 A.L. Sisterton
Lord Jon Arryn
War, the war that had been inevitable since Duskendale had finally broken out and instead of siding with Prince Rhaegar, Jon had sided with King Aerys. Had Rhaegar called a great council to discuss the removing of his father from power, Jon likely would have supported him, for Aerys was mad all agreed. And yet the man had not, he had declared war and gotten into bed with the wolves, the roses and the lions, and as such Jon could not abide such an usurpation and so he fought for Aerys. When Rickard Stark had led the north into attacking and plundering the three Sisters, Jon had begun fearing what this could mean for relations between his kingdom and the sisters relations already strained. So he had called his banners and had ridden forth for the sisters. Meanwhile Robert had sailed for Storm's End called his banners and had fought a host of Stormlords commanded by Lord Jon Connington at Summerhall and had won, though he had been beaten back at Ashford by Lord Tarly. Storm's End was under siege and Jon had had no news of Robert after Ashford. The Lannisters had begun raiding and pillaging around the Riverlands when war had broken out and as such there had been conflicts between the Vances and Lannister men which had ended badly for the Riverlands. Jon had sent Elbert out with a host of some 20,000 men to aid the Riverlords in their defence.
Thinking on Elbert got Jon very worried, his nephew was the closest thing to a son he had, along with Robert and Ned, the three boys had been as thick as thieves and now they were on the opposing ends of the conflict, Ned fighting alongside his father and brother in the Sisters, Robert gods alone knew where and Elbert in the Riverlands. His nephew had grown into a fine young man, smart and charming, with a good sword arm, he would make a fine Lord of the Vale when his time came and he would make a very good husband for Catelyn Tully when their marriage happened. Of that Jon was sure. He simply wished that his nephew did not have to go against the people he had grown up with and that his wards could have known peace instead of the woes of a greedy prince, but alas that was not to be.
Sisterton was in a state of siege, the one place that the northmen had not completely destroyed or sacked and yet it soon would be the focus of another barrage. The scouts had reported seeing the northern host just outside the walls, and the sounds of the battering rams at the gates was proof that soon enough they would have nowhere to go but to battle. The final battle in a series of them that had left Jon's bones aching and sore, his skin cut and bruised and his mind weary. Today would be the day where all of that came to an end and he could either rest his sword and then move onto the riverlands or he would be dead and his King would need to find someone else to remove the northmen before they took the Vale.
He looked at his squire Marq Grafton and said. "Send word to Lord Corbray, tell him it is time to unleash the arrows and to let the gates fall." His squire nodded and soon enough arrows were whizzing into the air and northmen were dying, but the sound of the gates flying down onto the ground over rode that and Jon drew his sword from it sheath and prepared for what could be his final battle. As he heard the sound of battle, the sound of men fighting and dying, their screams echoing in his head he thought of the Vale and the land he was fighting to defend, and he took a deep breath and then spurred his horse forward and rode forth into battle.
Jon had fought in many battles over the years against the mountain clans and then Blackfyres and pirates, and they had all served to make him more aware of his opponents movements, and so when one of them swung left he ducked right and brought his sword down hard on their middle. He swung left, right and centre, hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing cutting through the northmen one by one, hacking and slashing, his blade grew red with blood and on he pushed. Hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing hacking and slashing. More and more men fell to the ground and Jon's armour was covered in blood and dirt and grime some of it his own, his blade was red as well.
The course of the battle brought him before many young men who were quicker and more agile than he, but who lacked the patience needed to truly do him harm, and so he felled them before they could so much as cut him, his sword sung with their blood. And yet the tide of battle or the gods themselves saw fit to bring him before a young man who wore a wolf's head helm and had a sword forged from steel in the Vale, his own ward Ned was before him. Jon laughed then and said. "Ah Ned, fancy this eh. A meeting in battle between two old friends. Let us see if I taught you well my boy." He could not see his ward's face but he imagined that it was wracked with fear and guilt, still this was war. He swung at Ned and managed to dent his armour, he swung again with the same result, on the third strike he felt his anger begin to grow. "Eddard Stark, this is not what I taught you. Fight or flee, but do not let me hit you willingly."
That seemed to do the trick for soon enough Ned and he were engaged in a proper duel, swinging their swords at one another, blocking one another's blows. Sparks flew as steel met steel, they swung at one another and connected and howled with pain and sparks continued to flow. Swing, block, swing, connect, and dent on and on it went. Jon grew tired but still he fought as did Ned, on and on they went swinging and hacking at one another, until Jon's old age finally caught up with him, Ned went for a feint and Jon fell for it, and soon enough Ned's sword was buried in his ribs. As blood came pouring out of his mouth Jon looked at his ward and said simply. "A good hit my boy, a good hit in deed." Jon Arryn died with a smile on his face, his ward's sword through his ribs.