Chapter 7 – Flashbacks and Old Friends
He climbed in and got settled in a comfortable position. 'Stupid bitch. You just made my List' Tyrion thought to himself before he dropped off to sleep.
It had been a week since Jon had woken up in the past and it had been a very hard week for him indeed. On one hand, he was ecstatic at being at home with his family again before it had all gone so terribly wrong. It had helped heal some hurts seeing his siblings so innocent and carefree.
On the other hand though, Jon was going through a living hell. Almost everywhere he went within the walls of Winterfell, horrible memories of a life that will never happen now, haunted Jon day and night.
He couldn't go anywhere without seeing bodies everywhere. The kennels were the worst. He could still see the remains of Ramsey Snow/Bolton from when Sansa had extracted her own revenge and fed the sick twisted fuck to his own hounds. He got lost in the memories, jumped when someone came upon him by surprise, was twitchy and shied away from being touched, woke up nights in a cold sweat and shaking limbs and while knew he was in trouble, he thought he had concealed it well enough for others not to notice a significant change in his normal behaviour.
Unfortunately for him, he failed and others had noticed his strange behaviour.
"So Snow, what's wrong with you these days? Did ya finally find a girl you like and fail to get it up?" The crass tones of Theon Greyjoy drifted across the training yard.
Jon frowned in displeasure. "Fuck off Greyjoy, you cock-less cunt." Jon muttered under his breath as he put away his training armour and sword. As soon as he was done, he fled to the Godswoods, seeking sanctuary away from prying eyes.
He walked towards the centre of the Godswoods and the ancient Weirwood tree at its heart. When he reached the tree, he collapsed onto the rock that served as seat next to the heated pool. 'Gods, this is so much harder than I thought it would be' he thought to himself 'and fucking Greyjoy isn't making it any easier'.
Jon was divided in his reactions to Theon Greyjoy. On the one hand, he was a Traitor, a Turn cloak and a murdering bastard. He had betrayed Robb, captured Winterfell and held the population hostage, murdered two innocent boys and claimed that they were Bran and Rickon. But he had also paid for it tenfold at the hands of Ramsey Bolton.
Sansa had told him everything that had happened when the Bolton's took over Winterfell and all about how Ramsey had captured and tortured Theon until Theon Greyjoy had ceased to exist and only the pathetic creature that was Reek was left. Most of the time, Jon was torn between wanting to kill him and feeling pity for what had happened to him in the Time Before.
Jon's head dropped into his hands as he thought about the last week. The first day had actually been good. He smiled to himself as the he became lost in the memories of that first day…..
Jon was smiling as he walked through the halls of Winterfell towards to great hall. It felt so good to be back but it also felt a bit strange. He wasn't the same boy who walked thought these halls as he was the first time he'd walked them. He'd lost his innocence. He'd seen things and done things that no man had seen or done in over eight thousand years. He'd been betrayed in the worst way by men he had called brother. He had died. He felt old and jaded but when he reached the open doors of the Great Hall, he paused in its shadow and just looked at the scene before him.
Sitting at the high table was his family. Lord and Lady Stark, speaking in soft tones while their offspring were talking in loud, happy voices.
"Well it's about time, where have you been? Come sit down Snow and eat already. We have training with Ser Rodrik this morning and you'll need your strength for when I kick your ass Snow!" Robb's voice boomed across the hall.
"Robb! That's not how a Lord speaks in the great hall!" Lady Stark chastised her eldest son. Jon smiled and chuckled to himself.
"In your dreams, Stark," he replied as he crossed the hall to join the others at the table. As he sat down, he heard a chorus of 'Good mornings' ring out across the table from his siblings.
"Morning lad. How was your sleep?" Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North asked the boy that the whole realm believed was his bastard son.
"I slept well, Lord Stark" Jon replied, trying to remember how he acted as a boy of fourteen, almost fifteen name days. "I trust your sleep was peaceful?" he enquired. Eddard just smiled at him and nodded then turned back to his breakfast.
Lady Catelyn was ignoring him, as per usual. Bran was chatting excitedly to Robb and Rickon about how he had found a nest of baby birds in one of the old, partially collapsed towers of Winterfell.
Arya was complaining in a loud voice to her mother about not wanting to attend lessons with Septa Mordane because sewing and dancing was stupid and she didn't want to be a Lady while Sansa sat calmly and ate her breakfast like a proper Southern Lady. Jon was trying not to laugh because he knew that as soon as she could, Arya would slip out of her lessons and come and watch the boys train instead.
Poor Lady Catelyn was at her wits end trying to deal with her wayward daughter. Jon actually felt sorry for her. Arya would never become the Lady that her mother wanted her to be. Where Sansa was happy to become a proper Southern Lady, Arya had too much wolfs blood in her veins to be tamed like that. Jon wondered if he could convince his Aunt to try to compromise with Arya. If she was willing to be a little flexible when it came to Arya's love of fighting, hunting and riding verses her "how to be a Lady" lessons, she just may get a Northern Lady, who could hunt, ride and fight while also being able to dance with grace and manage the duties and courtesies of a Lady.
Once the family had finished their breakfast, they dispersed to different areas of the castle. The boys headed outside to the training yard and Ser Rodrik's rigorous training.
"You're late." He growled at them. "Right Snow you and Robb first. Greyjoy, you fight the winner, then the winner of that round will fight me so move yer asses and grab your gear!" he roared at them in a voice better suited to a battlefield. Jon remembered this day. This was the day that Ser Rodrik was assessing the boys training to see if they were advanced enough to start wielding live steel.
This meant that his fifteenth name day was in less than a month. He now knew where he stood within the timeline. Jon smiled. He was a lot more skilled now then he was the first time around but he also knew that his younger body wasn't quite as fit as it had been in the Time Before but he was positive he would manage just fine.
Jon and Robb finished getting ready and moved into the training area. "Right, let's see what you boys can do." Rodrik said. "Ready, Start," he barked at them. Immediately, Jon settled into the stance he had developed while fighting the Walkers, wrights and the Wildlings and starting circling to his left. Robb looked at him a little strangely but the shrugged and starting doing the same.
Jon was studying his brothers every move, watching and analysing everything, waiting for the slight shift that indicated Robb was about to attack.
Robb lunged, Jon dodged and then it was game on.
Ser Rodrik was watching the two brothers fight. Jon's style had seemingly changed overnight. It was a rather unorthodox style but it worked quite well for Jon. He was dodging and parrying, while doing some strange moves that would be better suited to a lighter blade but somehow, Jon made it work.
Suddenly, it all ended. Robb had overextended himself just slightly and within seconds, Jon had knocked Robb's sword away just enough for Jon to duck into the opening he had just created and stopped almost chest to chest with the point of his sword pointed upwards at the bottom of Robb's throat. "Dead man" He said a Braavos accent. Jon stepped back and grinned at the look of shock on Robb's and Greyjoy's faces.
His fighting style these days was a combination of Westeros Knight and Wildling fighting techniques with a little bit of a Braavos Water Dancer thrown in thanks to Arya after she had returned home. They had no idea how to counter it.
That had been a really good day. Especially after R'hllor dropped in again to tell him Tyrion would be on his way north very soon.
Jon sighed. After that day, the memories of the Time Before started getting worse. He couldn't figure out why he was losing control like this. He wasn't eating properly and his sleep was constantly interrupted with nightmares. He was losing weight and looking paler and more gaunt and skeletal by the day. He knew he had to get a handle on this but didn't know how. He looked at the heart tree and silently begged the Old Gods for help.
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Never before in his life was Tyrion more relieved to leave the Red Keep and Kings Landing then he was four days ago. It wasn't until the second night, after they stopped at lovely little inn on the boarder of the Crownlands and Riverlands, that he realised that he'd been so stressed and tense. He had thought about it a bit and figured out the reason for all that stress and tension, was because he was expecting to be attacked at any moment.
After living this present once already, he knew that there wouldn't been anything significant happening in the Realm until Jon Arryns death but living through the hell known as the Time Before had left him slightly on edge, always looking and anticipating an attack from some quarter.
While the seven kingdoms were at peace for the moment, Tyrion had taken a few precautions in order to be able to slip through the Riverlands and the North as unnoticed as possible. He had his escort dress in plain arms and armour, baring no house sigil or colours.
After all, this wasn't an official visit to Winterfell and if he was honest, he really didn't feel like putting up with all the false courtesies and polite insults he would receive from any of the noble houses if he was to announce his presence in the Riverlands.
So far, Tyrion had been enjoying himself quite a bit despite his body hurting from long hours in the saddle. His personal guards were all men who shared Tyrion's love of books and learning and were highly skilled soldiers. Tyrion had found each of them over a period of years, starting with his very distant cousin, Linkon.
He had met Linkon in the library of Casterly Rock. Both of them were trying to hide from their families while they visited and Linkon had been hearing about the library of Casterly Rock all his life. It was the third largest in the Westeros only the Citadel in Oldtown and Winterfell in the north were bigger. They had starting talking when Tyrion noticed that Linkon had been reading Unnatural History by Septon Barth, which was a history about dragons and from there had formed a strong friendship over a love of books.
Over the following years, Linkon had introduced Tyrion to more soldiers who also shared a love of books and learning and from there Tyrion had found not only loyal and dedicated soldiers, but also friends.
They were now four days into their journey and in a few hours would be at the Inn at the Crossroads. From there, it was another two days north to Moat Cailin and then another five or six days to Winterfell.
As they were traveling along the Kingsroad towards the crossroads, they had been discussing Northern legends and customs, when they started to hear a voice. Faintly at first but as they rode closer they could hear that the voice was singing The Dornish Man's Wife and quite well too. Tyrion had to smile. He knew that voice.
They came to the top of a small hill they could see the man the voice belonged to, sitting by the side of the road next to his horse. He seemed to be taking a short rest, wineskin in one hand and the other on the hilt of his sword as Tyrion's party came down the hill.
Tyrion was a little suspicious that he's found Bronn so quickly. He had anticipated having to look for him. Tyrion suspected a little "Divine Intervention" was going on here.
As they got closer, Tyrion could now more clearly see the man who had become a damn good friend in the Time Before. Bronn and Tyrion had spent many, many days and nights drinking and telling stories. He knew Bronn's history well and knew that befriending the sellsword would be easy.
Besides, Tyrion had gold and lots of it. Bronn, while a vicious killer, wasn't stupid. He would quickly see that serving as Tyrion's personal bodyguard would bring him a LOT of gold. And killing. There was always someone who wanted to kill the Imp.
They reached Bronn's positon just as he finished the song. Tyrion stopped his horse and smiled at Bronn.
"Good afternoon, I must say, I wasn't expecting to hear such an excellent rendition of the Dornish Man's Wife in the middle of the Riverlands. You have an excellent voice my new friend." Tyrion greeted Bronn, stroking the man's ego and Bronn had a big ego.
"Aye, that I do but thanks for the compliment though milord. Name's Bronn" Bronn replied in that semi disrespectful way he had when he didn't know you….or like you. "And who might you be? Cause you don't see many dwarves around the Riverlands, or much anywhere else for that matter" he asked.
Tyrion just laughed. "Tis true, we dwarves are rather scarce. It usually had to do with our fathers killing us just after birth or trying to anyway, but I my scruffy friend, am Tyrion Lannister, the Imp of Casterly Rock." Tyrion said answering in such a way that it would both amuse and get Bronn's interest.
"Well now, talking to a proper Lord now am I? And what would a proper lord like you be riding round the Riverlands with no colours or banners and a very small guard?" He asked in curiosity. He was also a little wary.
In Bronn's experience, High lords like the Lannister's didn't go anywhere without dragging a couple of hundred people with them and never without a couple of hundred guards at least. The other thing that was interesting though was the fact that he had been, well not rude but just disrespectful enough to warrant at least a verbal if not physical reprimand, and the little Lord just smiled and laughed.
"Well, this proper Lord is heading North and to be honest, I really don't want to talk to any of the River Lords, which would happen if I were riding under colours and banners." Tyrion replied with a smirk on his face while his guards starting sniggering behind their hands.
"Why?" Bronn asked
"Have you spoken to any of the River Lords? They're all dreadfully dull and lack a sense of humor. Also, one can never find a decent whore in the Keeps of the River Lords. They all practice monogamy. Wasteful I say." Behind Tyrion, his guard's sniggers had turned into outright laughter.
"He ain't half wrong ya know," said Gage, one of Tyrion's guards who was as fond of whoring as he was books. "Ugly women, can't even do em' when your drunk as hell mate." Gage proclaimed too much laughter from everyone, including Bronn. "Aye, you might be right at that friend." Bronn agree with a laugh.
Tyrion smiled. "We're currently heading to the Inn at the Crossroads, would you care to join us, if you don't have any pressing business? We may not be announcing who we are but I can guarantee, we enjoy the best of everything as we go." He asked.
Bronn tilted his head and looked back at Tyrion "and why would a high lord such as yourself wish to burden yourself with the likes of me? I'm a commoner and a sell-sword. We got nothing in common." He asked bluntly.
Tyrion kept smiling "Well my friend, you look like an interesting fellow with interesting stories to tell. I happen to like interesting stories and getting to know interesting people. Why not come along? You'll soon see that I'm nothing like any other Lord you may have met in your life. If nothing else, you can enjoy the best wine, food, beds and whores the Inn has to offer. All on me. What do you say?"
Bronn untied his horse and mounted him. "Wine, food and whores and I don't have to pay? Lead on milord and I'll tell you about the time I DID fuck a Dornish man's wife." Bronn accepted Tyrion's offer with a smile and a laugh.
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"So she's cumming, I'm cumming and her husband stormed in with a axe yelling that he'd kill me." Bronn paused to take a breath while Tyrion and the guards laughed at the story he was currently telling.
"So, what ya do?" asked one of Tyrion's guards.
"Well, I did the only thing I could. I grabbed me clothes and hightailed it out the bloody window. Fuck, I was only fourteen and didn't have me sword with me did I now?" Bronn finished with a smile and a chuckle while the rest of the party howled with laughter.
It had been a pleasant few hours of riding with Bronn telling stories that kept them all laughing. They told Bronn some of theirs in return and Bronn and Tyrion really hit it off like they did the first time round. They arrived at the Inn in high spirits and were lucky to be able to procure rooms for all the party.
The group walked into the main common room and sat down at a large table.
"What'll be loves?" asked the innkeeper's wife asked.
"Ale and food please my good woman and keep the ale flowing." Tyrion replied while passing two gold dragons to the woman. Her eyes widened.
"As you say milord," she said. "We have venison turning on the spit with a variety of roast vegetables and I'll get ale for you party now" She told him before she turned away to get the requested items.
After they had all eaten their fill, most of the group sort their beds. Tyrion and Bronn though lingered in the common room still drinking and talking.
"So, you said earlier today that you were heading north. How far north you heading?" Bronn asked and had a sip of ale.
"Just so. I am going north. I plan to go and piss of the edge of the Wall before I die." Tyrion replied, slightly drunk from all the ale he drank.
"Aye, you might just die before you even get to the Wall. Last I heard, the North ain't got much love for you Lannister's. Hell, The Nights Watch might just throw you off the top of the Wall if the Starks ask. Them Starks have always been friends to the Wall, it said" Bronn commented.
Tyrion smirked. Now was the perfect time to get his friend on board.
"Well then, I may just need an excellent swordsman to be my bodyguard. Would you happen to know where I could find such a fellow?" He said, still with a smirk on his face.
"Oh aye, I know plenty. Shame their all dead though." Bronn replied with a smirk of his own.
Tyrion sighed "You never make it easy do you?" He muttered under his breath. "Ok. How much for your sword and services?" Tyrion asked in a resigned tone.
"Depends on the services. If you want me to fuck you then I say thanks for the food and whores and be on my merry way but if you mean to protect your short ass, then let's talk and gold talks to me." Bronn stated in a way Tyrion remembered all too well.
"Never fucking easy" he said again under his breath. They haggled for a while and came to an agreement.
"Well then milord, if you don't mind I'm gonna go upstairs to that bed you promised me and fuck that cute brunette that's been giving me eye all night so I shall see you in the morning."
"Good night my friend" Tyrion bid Bronn goodnight and headed up to his own room.
As he got into the bed, be smiled. Gods it was good having Bronn back. His fate in the Time Before was not a pretty one. He had been torn to shreds by a pack of wrights defending Tyrion's escape from Kings Landing. There wasn't enough of him left to rise with blue eyes thank the gods but it had been disturbing to be able to do nothing but watch.
As Tyrion waited for sleep to consume him, he thought over his travel plans. He should be in the Neck and Moat Cailin in two days, and yet he had a bad feeling that it wasn't fast enough. He needed to be in Winterfell now. 'And you accused Cersei being paranoid' he muttered before sleep claimed him.