Hey guys, so here is the next chapter of The Lone Wolf. Hope you all enjoy it, and be ready for : I do not own Game of Thrones or Halo as they belong to their respective owners.
Also if itlooks like the location and character all mashed together, I've tried fixing it multiple times and no dice. So unfortunately until I can figure out a way to fix it, this will have to stay there. Forgive me guys.
Kings Landing
Jon Snow
"You shouldn't brood so much, your father does enough of it." Six advised as he put the swords away, laying his war hammer aside as well.
Jon scoffed in reply, "That's funny, coming from you. Don't give me that look Six, your worse than father. Don't think I don't catch you staring off into the distance." Jon came into his view with a hardened look about him.
Six placed the last sword back with a loud smack, placing his hands on either side of the rack. After a few moments he started, "Jon, what do you think it's like to be ripped from the only thing you've ever known. The last twenty years made meaningless, sacrifices mean nothing?"
He saw the boy only shrug, "I've waged war from the time I was three years old on an enemy my people fought far before my birth. I've been here for barely seven months, you've no idea just how difficult EVERYTHING is. I'm not going to stand here and be judged for something I've no control over."
Jon took an involuntary step back from him, "I didn't know, I've never had to go to war or thought of it that way."
Six nodded in response, "No, you didn't. I'm glad you didn't, it's not something someone should ever have to feel. Being here..." he motioned to the city around them. "Is something I never could have thought of, I have the chance to help people in more ways than just killing. Yes that's what I've been trained to do, and yes that's what I will always be at my core. A killer."
Slowly putting a hand on Jon's shoulder he continued, "But Spartans... are guardians. We fight and protect the innocents, hold the darkness at bay, and give our lives for the survival of mankind. To be a Spartan, is to be ready to sacrifice yourself. So that the world will never need someone like me."
Six peered into the youths eyes as he digested the information, he could see the conflict in them.
"Do you really think so little of yourself?" They heard a voice come from the door, both of them snapping their heads into the direction of it.
Sansa stood in the walkway, her hands holding what looked like a banner of some kind. She stepped forward and hid it behind her back. Her soft green eyes staring into him. Six released his hand from Jon's shoulders, before regarding the young lady Stark.
"Lady Sansa." He bowed his head to her, she waved him off with a frown.
"Did you mean it, what you said about being a Spartan?" She repeated the question, six shared a brief look with Jon before he sighed and answered.
"Yes, Spartan III's were built to be expendable assets. Give our people a chance."
"A chance for what?" Jon asked.
A silence only broken by the howl of the wind in the room, leaves scraping the floor as he searched for an answer.
"Anything." Six whispered, Sansa's face froze at the tone he used. She had heard the same story from her siblings and parents about where he came from and what he fought against. She had seen it with her own eyes when her left for the barrow lands.
But to hear the hopelessness and tiredness in his voice, it struck a chord with her. But one thing he said also confused her, "Spartan III's?"
Six jerked his head in her direction at that, he'd said too much. "I have things to do."
Sansa watched him gather his things and leave. Quietly closing the door behind she was sure he was gone, she turned back to Jon.
Seeing the same exasperated expression on his face she sighed in aggravation, walked over and plopped down on a chair. Jon joining her."You've noticed too, haven't you?"
Sansa quirked an eyebrow in response, "This is the longest conversation I've had with him in weeks. He's never around anymore, always saying he has work to do."
Jon slightly bobbed his head, "I know, this was the first time we've trained in a week. When we get done he vanishes as quickly as he appears. Something's not right.
Sansa shook her head,"No...it's not."
"What do you think he meant by, Spartan III's?" He asked her.
Sansa shook her head, "I don't know, he never talks about his past and that's the only thing he's said. Though I suspect he didn't mean to."
Jon closed his eyes and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All I'm certain of, is father knows more about him than we do. A lot more."
Sansa shifted her eyes to him, "What do you mean?"
Jon averted his eyes from her for a split second before continuing, "I overheard the two of them speaking three days ago, I was on my way to ask of Six's absence. It sounded like Six was giving him a report on the queen's activities as of late. Along with Ser Jaimes, no idea why."
Sansa's eyes widened, "why would he following the queen?" She whispered furiously.
"I don't know, but it can't be good. I didn't hear much after that because he left soon after. All I know is that they're keeping things from us." Jon concluded, it didn't feel right. Being kept in the dark from someone he considered a close friend, and especially his father. Though a part of him understood why, it didn't mean he had to like it.
"So what do we do?" Sansa asked him.
Jon was silent for a moment, he had a feeling that things were going to get very bad. Very soon, so in order to protect his family. He had to come up with a plan. He slowly lifted his head and looked his sister in the eye, and repeated the words drilled into him, "We move in silence."
Ser Jaime Lannister
Gods he hated the boredom, teetering on his feet outside the kings door was the only thing he could do at the time. He'd seen at least four so far, and the day was still young.
The door burst open as more ladies left laughing, some caressing the kings layers armor as they passed by. Fighting back a scowl he merely gave them that smile that'd worked on so many women before. Before settling back into his post, if you could even call it that. Ser Meryn had better hurry of for the shift changes or he'd have his head.
Just as he expected the sorry excuse for a knight and kings guard arrived, the smell of wine practically flowing from him.
"Ser Jaime." Trant grunted out.
"Ser Meryn." Jaime bit, the two never liking each other.
"You're relieved of your post." Not even bothering to respond he strutted down the hallway, gods he needed Cersei right now. But it would have to wait, light was still showing and they couldn't risk anything.
He had been with her less, she'd been drinking more. She already drank enough, but now he had seen her basically drown herself in it. It needed to stop, her obsession over the Spartan and the Stark family becoming too much. Why hadn't Varys said anything yet? Usually they would have heard something by now.
He knew not what his sister had planned, only that she had better hurry it up. Crossing into the throne room, a lone figure was by himself. The Spartan himself, looking at the throne.
Seeing an opportunity, he looked back at the throne itself before regarding him. "Seat of Aegon the conqueror and his descendants before the rebellion."
The Spartan looked at him silently, "I know the history."
Jaime scoffed, "You know who I am?"
Six looked at him quietly, "Yes, Ser Jaime Lannister. Known by many as the kingslayer."
Jaimes eyes lost what amusement they'd had, as he took a step closer to the Spartan. "Oh yes, king slayer only being the most popular. Though they seem to forget the man without honor. The deadliest swordsman in the seven kingdoms sounds better." He smiled as he rested his hand on the pommel. He watched as the Spartans chest huffed as he merely disregarded that comment.
"I've heard quite the story about you, Spartan. That you slayed a beast in the north, slaughtered an entire encampment of bandits almost singlehandedly. Oh, let's not forget the spectacle on the road here. No more than a month ago."
Six narrowed his eyes, "You mean when that man attacked, Jon? Tried to attack me and I only defended myself."
Jaime didn't miss a beat, "A bastard must know his place, you're very lucky Richard didn't die. Else I might have had to step in." A cocky smile on his face, the Spartan didn't even flinch at that. For some reason he felt the blood boil in him. "Rest assured, you have nothing to fear from me. Unless you do?"
Six closed the distance between them until he was peering down at the smaller man. Simply staring at him, until finally responding, "Do I look afraid?, you honestly think a sword would help you against me?"
This caught Jaime off guard, in all his years. He'd never seen someone so un disturbed about facing HIM! It unnerved him, this Spartan seemed absolutely convinced that he wasn't worth the time of day. And that infuriated him, he was the greatest swordsman in the country.
As he saw the Spartan turn around and show him his back, Jaime pulled his dagger out. But felt an unbelievable pressure on the right side of his cheek. His body slammed into the granite floor of the throne room. Gods! The pain was excruciating, it felt like he'd been hit by a trebuchet. Slowly raising his body to a sitting position, he spat out the blood forming in his mouth. Just as he was able to gather his bearings, he reached for his sword only to be assaulted once more.
A boot smashed into his face that sent him flying onto his back, the force so great he was starting to see in double.
"You've no idea just who you're fucking with, Lannister. You may be the greatest swordsman in Westeros." He saw the spartan lean down to him, an almost snarl like expression, "But, I'm not from Westeros. Remember that."
And without another word he watched the Spartan walk away, his anger boiled inside. He'd been embarrassed and left in a heap, by one single man. He pulled himself up into a seated position on the throne steps, breathing slowly. He tilted his head back to stop the blood from leaking out his nose.
He felt the throbbing in his head started to fade, he glared at the doors to the throne room. This wouldn't go unanswered, of that he was certain.
Ned Stark
Tower of the Hand
Sighing as Varys left the room, things werebecoming much more serious than he thought. Robert was throwing a tourney in his name, but Ned wanted nothing to do with that. The crown was already six million dragons in debt, and now he was throwing more coin away.
With it happening within the week he had busy making the proper arrangements. He'd also received a raven from Robb, the north had seen an increase in coin ever since they began selling ice. Once they saw the demonstrations of how it could be used. Many southern lords had put in orders for them.
The north was getting monthly shipments of coin, money that could be used to help the north's people. A breathe of fresh air as he sifted through the vast paperwork that littered his desk.
These past few weeks he'd been informed by Six about the happenings of the queen and the lannisters. Six had said the queen had begun to drink heavily lately. The king had met with his whores numerous times in the past week. Which was the usual with Robert, though they weren't cheap he'd found out.
He'd been using the Spartan as a spy of sorts, though nothing of importance had been discovered. Other than something about a book Jon Arryn had asked for, just before he passed. He'd been troubled for some reason by that, though Six had been sated his worries by saying he would acquire said book himself.
He didn't like the idea of having someone spying for him, he thought it lacked honor. But he needed to survive down in the south, his beliefs on honor would not do well here. So for now, he had to do what he needed to keep him and his family safe.
He knew Six would protect his girls and Jon with his life, he'd noticed a change in him though. Ever since he started working alone, a cold demeanor now took over the Spartan. Very base, not speaking much and then disappearing as fast as he came. Sansa had came to him the morning before, asking about his absence.
He couldn't tell her of course, the work needed to be done quietly. He told her that he'd been running various jobs for him and would continue to be busy for the near future. She seemed saddened by this, he'd seen a change in her as well.
Ever since that night in the inn, she seemed to be tied to the hip of the Spartan. Even watching the sparring lessons with Jon as he taught. A certain look she would give as she stared at him. Ned had to admit, the thought had crossed his mind. Though, she was still very young and he'd no idea of Six's age. Or if he would agree to the suggestion at all. If only she wasn't already betrothed, he thought to himself.
Tossing the ledger away he rubbed his eyes, it was nearing sunset and he needed to get some sleep. The papers piled neatly to the side. He crossed in front of his desk and locked the chamber doors. The torches dimly lit the halls as he came to his quarters, he pushed the doors open and then closed behind.
He unbuckled his belt and placed it on the chair beside his bed, undid his shirt before it too came off. Giving a small sigh of relief as he had a moment to himself, staring out into the city he had to admit that it looked quite beautiful at night.
Gods he missed the north, his sons... his wife. He missed Catelyn so much, he'd no idea when he would see her again. Seeing Sansa was hard enough as she looked so much like her mother.
He was proud Robb was fitting in well as being Lord of Winterfell while he was away. He knew he would do well, he'd been waiting his entire life for this.
Hearing Bran was awake was amazing and bittersweet too, he wasn't there for it. He'd initially been upset with Robert basically stealing him from the north. Bringing their past friendship when they were younger as a crutch. That Ned always fell for, but he wisened up and thought better of it.
His family needed him, but he needed to keep the ones he had with him safe. He had a feeling it wouldn't be long until he left there. A really bad feeling.
A loud knock on his door disturbed him from his thoughts, curiously he headed towards it. Having no idea who could be knocking on his door.
He opened it up and was greeted by Queen Cersei. Immediately he bowed his head respectfully.
Cersei smirked before bidding him to rise, "It appears you've been hard at work, Lord Stark."
Ned nodded his head stiffly, "Of course, your grace. Though I feel you didn't come down here just to trade pleasantries."
Her smile faded and she stared back like a hungry beast. "Did you happen to see my brother today, Lord Stark?"
He furrowed his brows in confusion, "No, your grace."
She scoffed, "Someone attacked him today, he won't say who.
Ned stared back in surprise at that, "Why?" He asked before realizing where she was going with this, hardening his features he answered before she could. "You think I had something to do with this?"
She smiled sweetly, "No, not you Lord Stark. The Spartan."
Six? What did she mean by that, he'd been told to strictly avoid conflict with anyone. "You've come to this conclusion how?"
"It couldn't have been more obvious, my brother never loses, Lord Stark. So to see him come back bloody and bruised. There's only one explanation, because let's face it Lord Stark." She walked closer to him, "You couldn't beat my brother if it came to it. Could you?"
Ned stayed silent. He truly didn't know, he was confident in his skills against most swordsman. But Ser Jaime was on his own level, if he'd ever cross blades with the man. He'd be at a major disadvantage
"So this Spartan, the tales of his strength and efficiency are sound. He could be as tall as Ser Gregor Clegane...so. What are you going to do about it?" She asked.
"Has your brother confirmed his attacker?" Ned questioned.
"No, he refuses to say. Why does that matter?" She sneered.
"Without your brothers attacker named, I will not charge the man on any counts. You've no proof, only assumptions." He shot back at her. She stayed silent for a few seconds before glaring and turning away from him.
She stopped a few paces away before turning her head and said, "Cherish your time here, Lord Stark. Cherish it."
Ned watched her leave in a dangerous stalk, he ran a hand across his face before shutting the door. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already. The tourney being days away, now this.
He walked over to his feathered bed and just dropped onto it in a heap. Closing his eyes before hitting the pillow. Gods he hated the south.
Hey guys, sorry I haven't been active lately. Haven't had the chance to write much overseas. But rest assured I'm back. Now, next chapter we got the Tourney of the hand.
Deuces.