Chapter 7
By Jon's reckoning, little had happened of grand importance. Besides Arya begging him to teach her to use a sword and Jeyne giving him sideways glances, things stayed the same. He visited the god's wood, he practiced with sword, and he watched Arya chase cats. Nothing with Varys, and at times he wondered if he should have declined the offer.
Then it happened. Barristan Selmy came to watch him practice. Jon tried to keep himself steeled - he would need it when faring against the three men at arms - but he could not. He kept throwing glances at the skilled swordsman, one of the last of the Kingsguard of the glory days. Barristan just watched with satisfaction as Jon still beat the three men at-arms soundly, before stepping up.
"Jon Snow. You have been claimed as an excellent swordsman, and from what I have seen you are… quite skilled. Put up your sword, ser. I would like to practice against you. It took all jon had not to let himself gape at the man, instead focusing on picking up his sword and getting into his stance.
His instincts were his saving grace here. He felt like he could see the moves before they happened, a parry here, a riposte there, dodging and rolling. He fared quite well, almost hitting the swordsman a few times. The final strike was a feint, and he managed to tap Barristan on the side. The old man smirked and nodded his head in approval, before beckoning him to follow.
"Varys was right. I was not certain until I saw you fight. You are much like your father." The old man looked at him with intrigue, and Jon's mind was racing. "What does this mean for me, Ser Barristan?" He asked, looking at the aging knight. "Follow me into here, Jon." The knight beckoned him into a room and then checked the hallway.
"I have served the royal family for many a year. I was greatly saddened when Rhaegar perished on the Trident. I had failed him, but I will not fail you. If you will have me when you are… When you are king, I will loyally serve on the Kingsguard, Jon Targaryen." Jon gaped at him, but quickly nodded his head.
A month had passed, and Jon had been training with the Lord Commander quite often. His days had quickly passed, with him training Sam or training with the Bold Knight. He had also been practicing with the lance. But most of all, Jon had been reading about King's Landing, under the guise of learning the history of the city.
One dreary night, Varys had come into Jon's chambers. "Jon, you must come with me. It is not safe - your uncle tried to take control for Stannis and has been arrested, and the gold cloaks are slaughtering Stark men." Jon gaped at him in shock and shook Sam awake. "Come with me, Sam. We need to go with Varys." Sam groaned but obliged, coming with them.
A few days had passed while they waited, and Sam was growing bored. "There's nothing to do but spar with you, and that's getting uninteresting. What can w-" Sam was interrupted by Varys entering the chamber with a sly smile on his face. "I bribed the Gold Cloaks, Jon Targaryen. The city is now yours, most of the pretenders dead, though Stannis is preparing for war against you. Renly is dead, killed in the commotion." Jon looked at him grimly before nodding his head to Sam, as if to say, 'there's what we can do'