Rickard has always hated his name more than anything...
Because it had been given to him not by his parents... but by their killer.
So his name was a constant reminder that he was a prisoner... even though there was no jailer.
He had been born to a slaver father and a slave mother, which wasn't too uncommon in most parts of Essos. His father was a cruel heartless man who didn't care for him much since he was a slave's get and his mother also didn't care for him because he was her slaver's gift.
So from the very beginning of his life, Rickard had the odds stacked against him and had always had to fend for himself. But he never hated that part of his childhood, because that was what made him stronger and smarter than the rest, and it was through these hardships that he understood the most fundamental rule of life...
That the Strong always preys on the Weak... That the Strong will forever remain on top and The weak will always crawl underneath...
This was also why he respected his Father as he was strong, and hated his mother as she was weak...
He had always admired the way his father commanded his slaves, the way he whipped them, cursed them, starved them... without them being able to do anything to retaliate. That in his young mind was... the ultimate power. And he wanted that more than anything.
And since his father was the only powerful man he saw during his younger years, he had always assumed him to be the strongest, and wanted to emulate him when he grew up... but that delusion of his got destroyed very soon after...
He was only seven years old when his father decided to raid the caravan of a Pentosi merchant, who had short-charged him.
The raid went very successfully... he had ambushed them during the night, and instead of indulging in killing them, he had looted all the valuables that he could and fled from there before reinforcements could arrive.
But... while his father was smart about the raid, he had made one simple mistake.
The mistake of revelling in his victory instead of preparing for retaliation... and that mistake cost him his life.
The furious Merchant had immediately hired the nearest sellswords company, to get his revenge, after hearing about the misfortune of his caravan, and his father, drowning in his arrogance, didn't even get a chance to pick up his sword before being killed along with all his men.
And that was the last day he admired his father...
Usually, when a sellswords company finds any children with their targets, they do one of two things, either they immediately take care of them to pull out all the roots... or they leave them to die on their own...
But fortunately for him, the previous commander of the Company of the Rose was too much of a hypocrite to do that. The previous commander could kill the father but he couldn't stomach killing his son... so he was spared, and not only that he was also given the 'mercy' of joining his company.
And so his name was changed to Rickard, to show that he was now a part of them... whether he wanted to or not...
A naive child would have been grateful for the Commander's mercy, but Rickard knew better than that...
He knew that even if a butcher spares a lamb for a day, it didn't mean that the lamb should be thankful, because, after all, the butcher could still decide to change its mind the next day and kill it...
So, he decided that he would bide for time, he would sheathe his fangs, hide his ambitions, hide his hatred, until... he was ready to take his revenge.
Even though he was not the best in Martial might, Rickard shot through the rankings very quickly using his charisma and his cunning, which stood even more amongst the brutes surrounding him.
He was making significant and insignificant achievements in every single battle and was quickly climbing the ladder towards the top... but sadly all of it went down the drain when... before he could get his petty revenge... the previous commander got crippled during an insignificant battle, as sellswords frequently do in Essos, and got retired to Pentos.
But neither his anger nor his ambition went away with him... no, his departure only made them burn even more fiercely.
He decided that the next best thing to killing the commander would be to take over the Company he had worked his whole life for...
But that was easier said than done... especially for someone like him who was an outsider without any of the Northern Blood. But that didn't mean he gave up...
No, to achieve what he desired, he went to extreme lengths, not sparing any method no matter how vile it may seem, whether it be bribery, intimidation, blackmail or even poisoning, he did everything, not leaving a single stone unturned, until finally... he became the Second in Command of the Company.
And now the last obstacle in front of him was the new commander... Gared Hornwood.
Gared was the type of person that Rickard hated the most. He was stubborn, he was headstrong and had more muscle than brain in his body, and not to mention his self-righteous talks and tall tales of his Barbarian ancestors from the North that made Rickard want to puke.
But... Unfortunately, those exact same things are what made him immensely popular amongst the warriors of the Company.
They admired his straightforward nature, and they adored his martial might even more... Even if his so-called honourable decision led the company into financial ruin, they would still happily(foolishly) follow behind him.
But Rickard knew that his greatest strength, his 'honour', was also his most glaring weakness...
The one and only reason why so many young newcomers from Westeros and even from Essos, joined the Company of Rose despite its meagre salary, was... its absolute abhorrence of Slavery.
The Company of Rose had a very impressive record of never in its centuries-old existence, directly or indirectly dabbling in Slavery. This meant that it was somewhat of a safe haven for people who hated slavery to the bone, which was surprisingly... quite a lot.
So, Rickard's goal became very simple... he just had to somehow associate the Commander with someone who was selling people into slavery and profiting from it, and the moment he did he knew for sure no matter the reasons behind it, the Commander's reputation would crumble like a sand castle and everyone would abandon him.
And Rickard was willing to sacrifice anything to achieve his goals, whether it be the Commander's kin or his own... anything...
But now at the most crucial moment, this up-jumped bastard had appeared out of nowhere and was going to ruin all his intricate plans.
"...Or should I call you Rattlesnake."
But Rickard wouldn't let him get his way, "What are you insinuating here?" he asked Jon with an unchanged expression in a calm tone, "Are you saying that I am a spy too?"
"I-Is he mad? Is he really calling the second in command a spy?"
"Yes, how can the second in command be a spy?"
"It must be a mistake, right? Right?"
Almost immediately a series of murmurs ran through the crowd as everyone stared at the centre in disbelief over the new revelation, which was the most shocking one of the evening. This news even shook awake those who were getting sleepy because it was getting past the bedtime of medieval people.
"Oh, no, no. I'm not insinuating that you're a spy, " Jon quickly shook his head with a smile on his face, "Because that would be completely absurd. After all, why would someone of your stature do something as low-level as spying,"
Almost immediately sighs filled the ground at that, some were relieved while others were disappointed at missing out on potential drama.
"So I am not calling you a spy, but... I AM calling you a Traitor!"
Startled gasps rang through the crowd at the unexpected reversal by Jon.
This whole evening had been filled with more ups and downs than these people had seen in their lives, but this one... this one took the crown as even people who were anticipating something like this were shocked.
"A-Are you insane, you bastard!" shouted someone from the crowd with an indignant look on his face, "How can you just call our commander a traitor?"
"Yes! He has been with us for so many years. How could he be a traitor?"
"B-But everyone else he had called out as spies already confessed, didn't they?" came a retort from one of the smarter ones in the crowd, earning a lot of nods and agreements from his neighbours, "So maybe he could also be..."
"Yes, Yes, we should wait for him to present the evidence before deciding—"
"You cunt! Are you calling Commander Rickard a traitor!" shouted the first man angrily.
Rickard had been in the company for many long years, and during these years there have obviously been those he had favoured and who had profited due to him. And now was the perfect opportunity for these people to show their loyalty.
"T-Then, are you saying that everyone else from before was also not spies, huh," his opponents were also not backing down, "Are you saying that the man Commander Gared called is a liar? Are you calling our Commander a liar?!"
"Y-You— You bastard! Do you wanna have a go?!"
"Do you?!"
"ENOUGH!" Gared bellowed silencing the crowd before the commotion could grow any further. He glared fiercely at the rowdier people in the crowd making them back down before finally turning towards Rickard.
Gared took a long hard scrutinising look at his second in command who stared back with a completely unchanged expression, before he finally turned towards Jon and asked, "What proof do you have, Jon?" Gared's eyes were like chips of ice by now, not giving away any hint of emotion in them.
"The same ones that got everyone before him to confess... letters," Jon said while taking out the final bunch of parchments, that had been carefully tucked in his breast pocket, "The proof is in these letters..." he said waving them in front of the crowd.
"What is in them?" Gared asked with a frown on his face.
"Well... these letters are the sole reason that your son was kidnapped," Jon said calmly, making Gared's eyes widen in wrath, and without wasting a single second he snatched those letters from Jon's hand to read.
"They were written to the sellswords company, Gallant Men... Telling them when and where they could find the commander's son, to easily capture him for ransom," he supplied helpfully for the sake of the anxiously waiting curious crowd.
"But...why are all of them addressed with the name Rattlesnake?" asked Gared without looking up from the letters.
"Oh...Because that is the nickname he chose..." he said while pointing his thumb towards Rickard whose eyebrow twitched irritatedly at the rude gesture, "he probably wanted to remain hidden in case these letters ever got into the wrong hands... very smart and cautious of you, Commander Rickard,"
"Rickard! You—"
"Is that all the evidence you've got," Rickard scoffed at Jon while interrupting Gared before he could jump at Rickard with his question, "A few vague letters written not by me but some imaginary person... Is that all the evidence you've prepared to accuse me?"
"Of course—"
"And even if we assume that these letters or any more of them that you produce are the real deal. How did you even get your hands on them," Rickard had kept a calm expression on his face from the very start unlike the others and while there was a little sweat on his forehead indicating the pressure he was under, he was still the most composed out of all the accused today, "Because I don't think that the people in Gallant Men were kind enough to just hand them over to you on a silver platter when you asked them... So how did you them?"
That was also the burning question on everyone's mind.
From the very start, Jon had been producing evidence after evidence as if he were a magician. He knew things about people that no one knew about, he knew secrets about spies that no one was supposed to know.
And now that they finally got the chance, the crowd was just dying to know the how behind it all...
"Oh... That is something that shall remain a secret," Jon said with a shrug, unbothered by all the curious stares on him, "But there—"
"Do you know that I think?" Rickard once again loudly interrupted Jon, not letting him take even a little bit of the lead, "I think... that you have been sent here by one of our enemies to sow discord in my company... Maybe all the ones before were really not spies, maybe... some of them were just your pawns... pawns that you planted to get to me, they were just your ruse to destroy an important pillar of this Company, so tell us, who paid you to do these things or do you have proof that you're not a spy?"
Almost instantly the atmosphere had completely changed, from people being doubtful of Rickard being a spy, they were now becoming sceptical of whether Jon had been telling the truth all along. Making it so that it was now on Jon to prove that he was not a spy instead of the other way around.
The way Rickard had handled the situation and turned the tables on him had impressed even Jon, but... in his haste, Rickard had forgotten to take one thing into consideration. He forgot who Jon was.
"My name is Jon Snow. My father's name is Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell, Warden in the North. My very blood is enough proof that I would never stoop so low as to anyone's bidding," He said in an eerily calm tone while looking down at Rickard with the air of someone whose very gaze commanded respect. It made everyone in the crowd suddenly feel very uncomfortable and forced them to look away from his eyes.
"But... we are not here to discuss me, are we?" Jon suddenly smiled and with that, the atmosphere abruptly vanished as if it had never been there, making everyone breathe a sigh of relief, "We are here for you... and I knew that you would be the hardest one to crack, so I prepared something very special just for you," he said with a meaningful look at that Rickard that filled his stomach with dread, "Men! Bring them out!" Jon shouted while turning half of his head towards the fire that was still going strong.
Almost immediately as if they were just waiting for it, two men clad in decent quality armour, that some people recognised as Commander Gared's personal guards, came from behind the fire while herding amidst them two male prisoners with their hands tied and heads bowed down in shame.
They came to stand in front of the fire and roughly shoved the prisoners back to make them kneel.
"Tell me, Rickard, do you recognise—"
"Him! Him!" Bran's sudden exclamation interrupted Jon's question, "I-I remember him, Father, he was the one who told me about that bounty on the lion cubs," he told Gared while jumping and pointing towards one of the caught prisoners.
"Oho! That is indeed a very pleasant surprise," Jon said with an amused expression on his face before turning towards the scowling second in command, "So tell them, Rickard, do you remember them—"
"I've never seen them in my life," Rickard said indifferently. He was sweating profusely by now but was still trying to maintain a nonchalant expression on his face.
"Commander?!" the prisoners shouted in shock simultaneously with betrayed expressions on their faces.
"Oh don't worry too much," Jon said sympathetically to the two regretful prisoners, "Even if he doesn't recognise you, he will surely recognise the one he sent you to kill... won't you, Rickard?" he asked while turning towards the second in command, who for the first time had pure horror on his face, "Men! Bring out the healer!"
And finally, the last surprise of the evening was brought from behind the fire in the form of the missing healer.
The healer looked as if he had seen better days, his face was badly bruised and he had a long wound on his face that looked as if someone had tried to cut him.
The moment the ageing healer came out and saw Rickard's face, he immediately went nuts, his eyes turned red in anger and he began screaming, "Y-YOU—YOU FUCKING CUNT! After all that I did for you—All the things you made me do! You paid me back by sending these wretches to kill me, You Ungrateful Vermin! I will kill—"
"ENOUGH!" growled Gared finally looking up from the crumpled letters with a chilling look in his eyes that immediately killed all the words in the healer's throat and made him shrink in terror, "I will deal with you later," he said to the healer in calm tone making him shiver before abruptly turning towards Rickard.
Gared abruptly took a slow and heavy step towards Rickard making him flinch back in fear. As the commander walked towards him, Rickard's mind was working furiously trying to come up with any way to get out of this situation but no matter how hard he tried he was coming up empty, "I-I can exp—"
*SMACK*
The slap from Gared was so powerful that it immediately sent Rickard flying straight into the ground and made everyone there, including Jon flinch at the sheer force it contained and the loud clap it produced.
Half of Rickard's face was red because of the massive handprint from Gared's hand on his face while the other half was red from the humiliation of being slapped in front of all the soldiers... soldiers who, before today wouldn't even dare to look in his eyes.
"My father spared your life, he took you in, he clothed you, taught you how to fight," Gared said with a forced look of calm that concealed boiling wrath just underneath the surface, "He took you into the company, gave you a place at our hearth. And I... I honoured you like my brother, gave you a place by my side, trusted your counsel, and gave—"
"OH! SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU GAVE ME SHIT! YOU DID NOTHING FOR ME! IT WAS ME! IT WAS ME WHO HELD THIS COMPANY TOGETHER! YOU WOULD BE NOWHERE WITHOUT ME! YOU FUCKING BRUTE—"
It was only when he was done did Rickard realise what he had done... his eyes slowly widened in horror as he looked around and realised that, it was all... It was all over.
/