The Prince had been correct in his assessment that something in Jon Snow needed to be drawn out. It was only the first training session that Jaime Lannister was having with the boy and already he was very impressed. He was observant and well-practised with a sword. He was raised side by side with his trueborn brother, but Jaime did not see the exact observant nature in Robb Stark that he saw in Jon Snow. He brought his guarded nature to the training yard, his face a blank mask that gave nothing away when it came to what he planned. He knew just how much he needed to hang back before pouncing on his enemies, like a predator luring their prey in before pouncing.
Jaime had pitted him against the men at arms of the Lannister camp to assess his skills. Those who were new or not as experienced in combat were dominated with ease by the bastard. Those who were experienced had swung their sword against other humans were a challenge for the boy. Not surprisingly, the Knight was certain that Jon had not swung live steel against another man before.
"You've done well today" Jaime complimented, passing a flask of water to the boy.
"I can do better" Jon muttered, possibly to himself but had said it loud enough for the Knight to hear, which amused him. He had not given Jon much of a thought back in Winterfell but had gotten to know the boy on their way back to King's Landing. He was a silent boy, spoke only when spoken to, brooding, and guarded. However, the last one becomes less prominent when he talks to the Prince, whom Jon seems to respect a lot. And if Jaime really thought about it, Jon's brooding was less brooding and more melancholic. He was determined, dutiful and single-minded when it came to training. It reminded someone of Jaime, someone he thought about frequently.
"Ser Jaime" Jon's voice drew Jaime out of his thoughts. The boy was holding the flask of water out to the man, who took it with a smile. "Do you think I can take part in the tourney in my father's honour?" he asked.
"How good are you with a horse?" the Knight asked.
"Fairly decent" the boy answered.
"I see" the Knight hummed. Jon waited for a more definite answer but got none from Jaime. It made the boy sigh in distaste. The boy perked up when he saw the crown Prince walk in, wearing silver plate armour. Jaime noticed this and smirked. "Do not so much as blink. Or you might miss it" he whispered to Jon.
"Uncle! Spar with me" Orys' shout caught Jon by surprise. It was powerful and commanding and had Jon wanting to drop to his knees, nothing like the tone the Prince had used till now. The Knight smirked and walked by Jon to join his nephew in the training yard. They were using live steel, Jon noticed. His interest in the spar increased because of that.
The Prince and the Kingsguard got into stance and when the Master at Arms called for them to begin, they both charged in. The song of swords drew in many listeners, who circled the two as they fought. Every time Orys and Jaime clashed swords, Jon saw the Kingsguard being pushed back slightly, his balance shaken and his feet needing to be readjusted. The Prince was larger and stronger than the Kingsguard. But even with the size and power, the Prince moved with a grace that Jon had rarely seen. He was nimble, quick on his feet and moved as if he was floating in the air. He dodged, parried and weaved through Jaime's attacks with little difficulty. But the Kingsguard was no pushover either. He fought like he was used to this style of combat, not a surprise since these have probably sparred together before. On the defensive, he constantly readjusted his feet and balance to make up for the balance he lost when the Prince hit him. And when he attacked, he was relentlessly fast, his slashes even faster, and while the Prince was able to dodge, parry and weave through, the constant attacks did not allow the Prince to counter him. The two were evenly matched in Jon's eyes.
Jon lost track of how long the two fought, which looked more like a dance to Jon than two people fighting. Eventually, the fight came to an end when Jaime found himself at the end of a vicious strike. The strike was so powerful that it had Jaime stumbling back a few steps, at which time the Prince had got in close and shoved him onto the ground with a timed shoulder charge.
"And with that, we are equal again" the Prince declared in glee, helping the Knight to his feet.
"The Prince and Ser Jaime are frequent sparring partners. Ser Jaime had beaten him in the previous bout and had one victory more than the Prince had" a soldier explained. He had probably seen the confused look on Jon's face.
"How many times had the two fought?" Jon asked, but he only received a shrug in response.
"That is thrice you've fallen for that trick, Uncle. Had old age finally started to creep in?" the Prince teased, a smirk on his face and a hint of amusement in his emerald eyes.
"Yes, oh how my body aches from just that strike," Jaime groaned, a fake one of course. The Knight was smirking as well.
When the Prince and the Kingsguard came closer to where Jon stood, they were smiling, joking about something Jon did not understand. Possibly an inside joke. When the Prince saw Jon, he walked up to the boy and smacked him in the back with a smile on his face.
"Liked the show?" Orys questioned, smirking when Jon nodded excitedly. "Well, Uncle Jaime? What do you think of him?"
"Today was his first day, nephew. But you were right nephew, he certainly has something in him that will set him apart from the rest" The knight's compliment had the boy grinning. "He wants to take part in the tourney in his father's honour."
Jon's grin quickly turned into a blush. He ducked his head to hide his face.
"Do you think he's ready?" the Prince asked his uncle, a brow rising in question.
"I have just seen him with a sword. I have yet to see how accomplished he is on a horse and with a bow" the Knight answered.
"I see" the Prince hummed under his breath. "Well, the tourney is still quite some time away now. I'll leave you to judge whether he is ready or not, Uncle."
More would have been said had a messenger not arrived with a letter in his hands. Orys accepted the letter with a small word of gratitude and looked it over. It had the seal of a lion on it.
When Orys entered Lord Stark's chambers, he looked a little unsettled and ill at ease.
"Have I caught you at a bad time, Lord Stark? I could always come back later."
"No, my Prince. What is it that I might help you with?"
Orys procured the letter from his pocket and passed it off to Lord Stark. A little confused as he took it, Lord Stark's face turned blank once he saw the seal on it. He pulled the letter out and read its contents carefully.
"When did this arrive?" he asked, his tone a little distant and cold.
"Not too long ago" Orys answered unbothered. "I had written to Grandfather not long before we left for our Royal Progress, with specific instructions that the reply be sent after word of your appointment as Hand of the King is officially announced. What took him so long to send after I'm unsure."
"And you think this is a good idea?" the man asked, still cold and distant.
"We are four million in debt, my Lord. My grandfather does not charge us with interest on this loan, but the Iron Bank does. We are a million in debt to them, and I'm not sure how long it would take us to repay it. With winter coming, the crops would not be enough since we must store them for us and our people here. Who knows how much the debt will amount to once Winter passes? It is a safer option to be four million in debt to my grandfather than to be a million in debt to the Iron Bank of Braavos. I like it none more than you do, the Crown being in debt. But we must deal with what we have and climb out of this debt."
"You already seemed to have decided on what to do. Why come to me?" Lord Stark asked, handing the letter back to Orys, still cold and distant.
"Because you are the Hand of the King and I need your guidance in this matter," Orys said forcefully.
"If you want my guidance, I'd say to not go through with this," the Hand of the King said simply. "I disagree with you, it is better to be indebted to the Iron Bank than to your grandfather, my Prince."
"Are you saying it with a clear head? Or because you distrust my mother's side of the family for coming over to my father's side so late in the war?"
Lord Stark remained silent, but that was all the answer Orys needed from the man. Which made him sigh.
"Allow me to paint the picture for you. My grandfather is a man who puts the family before everyone else no matter what the circumstances are. And right now, his grandson is heir to the Iron Throne. As a man who puts the pride of the house before the members of the house, he would see to it that when his grandson is reigning as King, he does not have to deal with things that would bring shame on House Lannister. He will find them, whether they exist or not. So I trust him, not as my grandfather, but as Lord Tywin of House Lannister to get the Crown's debt to the Iron Bank forgotten and make the debt to him an easy enough thing to deal with."
"Again, you seem to have decided on what to do," Lord Stark said coldly. "Do what you think is best, my Prince."
At that moment, Orys wanted to throttle the man. He knew it was a quick fix, not a permanent one. But he wanted the Iron Bank off the crown's back as soon as possible, why was this stubborn man not seeing that?
"Very well, Lord Stark" the Prince pocketed his letter. "There was one other thing I wished to speak to you about."
"Yes?"
"The New Gift. Why have you not bought it back from the Watch?"
The question had caught Lord Stark by surprise, Orys could see that plain enough. It made him smile.
"What do you mean?"
"I think my question was easy enough to understand. The New Gift has fertile lands from what I read, and it's being wasted right now because the Watch does not have enough men to use them. The same goes for the forests beyond the wall. While you can't directly do anything from the forest, you can for the New Gift."
"I have been thinking about it," Lord Stark said after a moment, "we do not have enough men to populate the New Gift either."
"King's Landing has more than enough men. Even after we trained a lot to become farmers. If the offer of work, food and shelter is given to them, they'll move to the North and settle your New Gift. And once Uncle Tyrion returns with a report of what the state of the Watch is, I'm sure we can find ways to help them as well."
Lord Stark was silent as he pondered the idea. When he finally came to a decision, he did not look too cold.
"Thank you, my Prince. I'm sure these will go a long way in helping the North and the Watch."
"No need for the gratitude, Lord Stark. It is a shame that in my father's rule, the North had been mostly neglected. I intend to rectify that. The North is a vast place, formidable and unconquerable. We must use it to its full potential."
The coldness had left Lord Stark completely. He was now smiling, his grey eyes shining with a hint of happiness.
Orys had invited Lord Stark and his family to have dinner with him and his family, including Jon. His mother did not like it, but Orys had his ways of convincing his mother. The King was there as well, and he did not mind Jon's presence. Such was Orys' father, easy to insult unless it was his childhood best friend.
The dinner had gone smoothly. Joffrey did not make mischief, Sansa and Myrella seemed to become close friends. Arya spent most of the dinner to herself and with Jon, occasionally talking to Orys about combat and whatnot. She must have heard how Orys had beaten his uncle that morning. The King and Lord Stark spoke at length about the past, and occasionally boasting about their children. The King was even interested in Jon, to whom he asked many questions.
Eventually, the dinner came to an end and Orys accompanied them back to the Tower of the Hand. He bid them farewell before returning to his room, where he found Lord Varys waiting for him.
"It was nice of you to invite Lord Stark and his family over for dinner, my Prince' said the Spider to the Prince.
"Was it? I thought it was expected. We used to have dinner with Jon and his family" Orys shrugged, a little nostalgic at the memory. "How are Lady Lysa and Robert doing?"
"A little concerning" Varys answered, making the Prince narrow his eyes. "Lady Lysa has armed the Eyrie and its gates and refuses to leave the protection of her castle no matter the cost."
"I see" the Prince frowned. Did the woman also…
"Though I do have news about the other Tully sister. She had come to the capital in disguise."
At the Spider's words, the Prince looked up in surprise. "What did she want?"
"There was an assassination attempt on Brandon Stark" the Spider explained. "The assassin was killed by the boy's wolf, but it was the weapon he used that caught everyone's attention. A dagger."
"What's so special about a dagger?" Orys asked. He had a dreadful feeling building up inside of him.
"It was Valyrian Steel with a dragonbone handle."
Orys knew the dagger well.
"They suspect my family don't they?"
The Spider said nothing but he didn't need to. That would explain why Lord Stark was acting so cold when he went to meet him.
"Has she left already?"
"She has."
"Anyone else know?"
"Just her husband and Lord Baelish."
"I see" the Prince sighed. "We must hasten our effort, Lord Varys. Before something terrible happens."
"It is proving more difficult than we thought, my Prince. He has covered his tracks well."
"That is an excuse, Lord Varys. You're the Master of Whispers, you must find it before it's too late."
"I will, my Prince."
Long after Lord Varys had left, Orys found himself unable to sleep. He had too many thoughts in his head, too many fears and worries.
"I finally understand why Father drinks so much and fucks so many" the Prince muttered, a dry laugh escaping his lips.