A quill is mightier than a blade but what about Bullheadedness?
Disclaimer- Game of Thrones and Campione do not belong to me. I am just borrowing them. English is not my first or second language so please be gentle with me.
"Normal Talk"
'Thoughts/internal monologue'
"Telepathic conversation"
"Gods/Goddesses Talking"
"Shouting"
'Chant'
Enjoy
Braavos
The Sealord of the Braavos was easily the strongest lord of the Braavos. Ferrego Antaryon was chosen for this position through a convoluted process. The process was headed by the Braavosi magisters and keyholders of the Iron Bank. The process was highly contested and prone to violence. Ferrego has proven his mettle against all the competitors and came out victorious.
The position was everything he had dreamed of being. He had reaped the benefits and gave what he could back to the city of Braavos. He had been diligent in his duty and never gave the magisters and keyholders a chance to question his authority. The only fly in the ointment was a Westrosi who had made his way to Braavos a week ago and attacked his eldest grandson.
He had been his favorite, and many speculated that he would be the heir of his business after his demise. So he had spoiled him since a young age and could not accept someone insulting him. His son had sent his personal guard to bring the boy to justice. If it were only so simple.
The man, or boy, since he could not speculate his age based on his stature, had defeated the head of his son's personal guard. He then proceeded to humiliate the rest of the dozen guards who had accompanied his grandson with a wooden sword. WITH A WOODEN SWORD!
His head of personal guards, the first sword of Braavos, had refused to raise his blade against the boy, but after hearing that the boy had achieved all that with only a wooden sword, he suddenly became interested. He had returned that night defeated. According to him, the boy was akin to unpolished valyrian steel—all power, talent, and instinct but no grace. It had been a slap in the face for someone who had dedicated their entire life to perfecting the art of swordplay.
After that, the situation spiraled out of anyone's control. The whole city was looking for the boy—the one who had defeated the first sword of Braavos with raw talent alone. They were all too eager to cross the blade with the boy. The boy was soon drowning in challenges. He had become too high profile to send an assassin after him, but he had hoped that sooner or later someone would defeat the boy, but it was not meant to be.
The boy, for no one knew his name. Not even the captain whose ship he had boarded. The boy had declared that he would only reveal his name to the one who would defeat him. He would have been happy to leave it at that, but his son had gone to the house of Black and White.
They rejected the contract for the lack of a name to give. But his son was not going to be deterred, and he had gone to the sorrowful men. They accepted the contract for a very large amount of gold. But they failed, and the boy had somehow learned of their connection.
Which brought him to the present. His son had been visiting him when the boy tracked him down. The boy proceeded to trash his guards before making his way inside. The boy then pointed his sword (the infamous wooden sword!) at his son. Never had he heard of someone daring to attack the Sealord's palace since its conception, let alone a successful one. It was, after all, the place of residence of the ruler of Braavos.
"This has gone long enough, my lord. By the end of this day, this one sided feud is going to end one way or another." The boy delivered his ultimatum.
"Let's not do anything rash here, my lord. You seem to have had a long day. Why don't we calm down a bit and resolve this conflict in a peaceful manner?" Ferrogo tried to calm the boy.
"The only way to resolve this in a peaceful manner is to kill the man that is hiding behind you." The boy did not lower his sword. It was a ridiculous situation; the boy was threatening them with a wooden sword. It would be, but one only needed to look at the events that transpired here. This boy with a wooden sword had decimated his entire household guard. He did not want to see what this boy could do with a live blade.
"I am sure you are mistaken, my lord, any situation can be resolved with words, if both parties are willing to come to the table." He did not lose his cool when he spoke that partial truth. While it was true that any situation can be resolved with words, it only worked if one party was willing to back down. In this situation, it was clear which party was willing to bend.
"And why do you think that I am willing to come to trade words when I could just kill the man behind you and be on my way?" The boy was not relenting, and it was only a healthy dose of fear that prevented him from rubbing his face.
"Because you are not a killer, my lord. I have been following your exploits since last week, and you have yet to kill anyone, even if it was within your rights. And while it may be right that killing my son may resolve the issue at hand, would it really be worth it knowing that you have made an enemy out of one of the most powerful people and spent the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?." The boy snorted at that. The idea of pissing off strong people like him did not even phase him. Did he not know who he was threatening here? Either the boy was really arrogant or crazy.
At least the murderous rage had somewhat diminished within his eyes. The boy lowered his sword but was still tensed enough that he could attack at any moment. He motioned for one of the servants nearby to bring refreshments and led the boy to his garden. His son followed behind, trying to stay as far away from the boy as possible.
Soon they were sitting on the chair in a lavish garden in front of each other. The walk to the garden had helped cool the boys temper, somewhat. The tension has again increased since the boy refused the lavish refreshment. The Westrosi's were very serious about their guest rights, and the boy refusing the food may very well mean that he had not accepted their guest rights, thus he could attack them the moment negotiation went south.
"May I inquire about your name, my lord, before we begin negotiation?" He enquired. The boy was silent for a moment before he answered.
"Jon Snow." The Sealord almost gaped. He had, of course, heard the name. It was hard not to when it was the most unbelievable piece of tale that he had ever heard two years ago. His son was not doing any better. At first, he dismissed them as mere tales, but the stories did not stop. Their best source confirmed the tale. He had learned from various channels who had visited the site of battle or had witnessed the legendary blade. No one knew the true extent of his capabilities. The merchants as well as the keyholders of the iron bank were highly interested in the boy. For years, the bastard son Eddard Stark remained an enigma, and one day he just vanished. Even their best source could not scrape enough information about the boy—just enough to know about him but not enough for them to formulate a plan to entice him. He could not believe his luck that the boy landed in his lap like that.
"Son of Eddard Stark, I presume?" The boy, Jon, nodded at that.
He would have dismissed the boy as a fraud without his rumored sword if not for his rather brazen entry and prowess that he had witnessed. While he was confident that the boy could be overwhelmed by a large number of opponents, he was not going to bid his life on the fact. He could always deal with the boy later, depending on the result of this talk.
"Now that introductions are out of the way, maybe we should..." Jon interrupted Ferrego.
"You did not introduce yourself, my lords." Ferrego controlled himself at that, reminding himself that this boy had them at sword point. But the nerve of the boy to interrupt him just added to the insult that this boy had already heaped upon him and his family.
"My apologies. I am, of course, Ferrego Antaryon, the Sealord of Braavos, and this is my son, Fario Antaryon." He gestured towards his son, who was now sitting a little straighter.
"You are the Sealord of Braavos, the one who rules over this city." Jon asked, and it took Ferrego all of his forty years of experience and patience in dealing with cutthroat merchants and key holders of Iron-Bank to not react. This boy, not even a man, had the most powerful man of Braavos at his mercy without knowing their identity. Was the boy touched in his head?
His son was not doing any better. He quickly caught his son's eyes before he could retort. The boy was raised by Eddard Stark, they now had an upper hand if they played their cards right.
"Why, yes, I am. But we must get to the matter at hand. My son had somehow angered you, and I would do anything in my power to resolve this issue as peacefully as possible." Ferrego was feeling his confidence return.
"For reasons unknown to me, your son had put a price on my head. I have been dealing with your assassins for the last two days, and it has become quite tiresome. They killed the only merchant that was willing to let me tag along with them. I managed to get inside one of their guilds and learned that the only way to void the contract is to force the one who had put out the price to call it back or if the contractor were to die. You will either rescind the contract today or I swear you are going to be a head short by the end of these talks." The boy had the balls, he would give him those. Even knowing their identity, he was still threatening them.
Ferrego knew about the contract his son had put out and believed that it was one of the most foolish things he could do.
"I believe I know the reason for my son's animosity towards you. A week ago, you infringed upon the honor of my grandson. We, the people of Braavos, believe in honor, and he could not help but retaliate. You could have apologized, and we could have put the matter behind us without any reason to escalate." He said.
The boy was silent for a moment before he responded, perhaps trying to remember the incident. "That boy insulted me first for carrying a wooden sword and then challenged me. After his defeat, he sent his guards at me. The next day, he came with a dozen guards to bring my head to him. Tell me, my lord, why should I be the one to apologize? It was your grandson who bit more than he could chew and escalated the matter."
"I agree that it was my son's and grandson's fault to escalate the matter. But even then, the truth remains that the matter has already escalated. Your attack on my manse did not help in this regard. I am sure that we can come to a compromise." He prodded Jon a bit.
"What sort of compromise?" Jon asked.
Ferrego had to be careful now. He, like the rest of the known world, knew that Jon Snow represented power. He needed to convince Snow to enter his service because whoever held the loyalty of Snow, held power.
It was fortunate that the boy was raised by Eddard Stark, who was known for his honor. If the boy was anything like his father, then he would make a play in his honor. He had dealt with people older and wiser than this boy, and he was sure that he could easily make this slip of a boy dance to his tune.
"This feud of yours had caught every eye in Braavos. Granted, my son and grandson are responsible for it, but dropping the matter entirely without any repercussions will damage my reputation. Tell me, my lord, if it would not be so. What sort of message would it send? Braavos is arguably the strongest of the free cities, and I rule this city. It would not only tarnish my reputation but also that of this great city."
"What do you propose, my lord?" Jon asked coldly.
"Nothing too serious, my boy. You will apologize to me publicly, not to my son, and certainly not to my grandson. I will not ask you to lower yourself, but we will have to sell it to make it believable. After that, you will serve under me personally for some time. You will be paid handsomely for the service—more than most merchants earn in a decade, at the very least. The length of your service can be revisited after the end of your term. I will make a promise to you now that you will not be asked to do anything that will raise questions about your honor or that of your house.
"This way we can recover our reputation, and you will have the sealord of Braavos as your patron for whatever path you decide at the end of your service."
Jon's POV
Jon was feeling at his temper's end. He had a confusing ride throughout the week. At first, he thought that he would be condemned for fighting in broad daylight on the street. But it was the opposite of that. Sure, the constant challenges of the duel were far from troublesome, but nothing he could not handle. The taverns were offering him food, drinks, and a bed to sleep in without any charges on the chance that he would answer the duel in front of their own establishment. He supposes it was good for business. But the thing he hated most was the recent string of assassination attempts on his life. While not successful, it was becoming tiresome.
He was feeling like his time in the city had come to an end, and he was looking for someone to guide him. But while the citizens of Braavos were happy to host him it did not help him find any caravans that were travelling out of the city. He later learned that he had somehow angered Fario, a big merchant, and they were afraid that by allowing him to travel with them, they would invite the wrath of the merchant.
But he was not defeated and finally found someone who would brave the wrath of Fario. But luck was not with him, and while he was meeting with the leader of the caravan to transfer the gold, he was attacked by an assassin, and the merchant took the knife in his back in the ensuing chaos. He tried not to ponder if the merchant had any family to get back to, lest he give into his rage.
It was then that Jon finally had enough and tracked down the guild of assassins, where he learned about the details of his contract. While he could decimate the chapter of guild in the Braavos, it would not stop the main guild from continuing the contract. The Sorrowful men were reluctant to divulge the information, but they were afraid enough to not stop him from pilfering their log book. Here he came across the information and confirmation he needed, and it was just a matter of asking for directions to find the current location of Fario. Unfortunately for Jon, Fario turned out to be the son of Sealord of Braavos, and Jon had unknowingly attacked his manse. If Jon had known whose manse he was attacking, perhaps he would have hesitated a bit, maybe not. What was done was done, and Jon was ready to face the consequences of his action.
Unfortunately for Ferrego and Fario, while Jon was humble and noble; it was tempered by knowledge of his true place in the world. If Jon had been left alone with only the teachings of Eddard Stark, then he would only ever be known as an honorable bastard. He would have publicly apologized and even would have agreed to serve whatever term was proposed.
But this was not that boy.
This boy was tempered by powers that were beyond mortal understanding, taught lessons by mythical beings, and most important of all, had the influence of the power of a mad god ever present on the back of his head. Ever since he first released the authority of Ajin, it felt like he could never close the door fully. The wrath was always on his mind, tempered by his knight like tendencies. Sometimes it felt like the nature of both gods were fighting for dominance in his mind. The only time they worked together was when Jon was in conflict. The pride of the Warrior and the bloodlust of Ajin made Jon fight harder and more brutally.
While the proposal for an apology was not out of the realm of possibility, the term about his service under the Sealord went against his nature. A rage was building inside him, telling him to reject the proposition, not willing to give it another thought. He would not agree to these terms, his pride would not allow it. He had control over that impulse, lest he do something he was sure he would regret later.
"I am going to reject this proposition, my lord. This is not a compromise. This whole debacle was not my doing, but it seems the only one here to be truly punished is me. I am a boy, but I am not as naïve as you may think, so my apology on this matter is out of the question. Neither will I be serving under you for any period of time." Jon spoke out with whatever respect he could scrape up from inside of him, which was not much. The Sealord was surprised by the answer and his tone. Maybe he never had the pleasure of someone rejecting his proposal before, but Jon was not willing to entertain him.
"I do not think that you grasp the situation you have found yourself in, young man. You are in defiance of one of the most respected and strongest people in Essos. Do you truly believe that you can walk away after tarnishing my honor? You will never know peace as long as you are in Essos. Not even in Westeros will you escape my influence. You are young and drunk on your marital prowess. You may even believe that you can stand against the multitude of misfortunes that will befall you should you reject my offer. But can you truly? Let me remind you of the lesson that your lord father may have forgotten to teach you." The anger inside Jon was threatening to escape. He had come here to make the merchant take back the contract so he could leave this city. In his inexperience, he never thought he would be entangling with Sealord, making his situation even more complicated.
"Braavos was established by the escaped slaves, it is also called the bastard daughter of Valyria. Have you ever pondered why it remains standing to this day while the other daughters of Valyria would have liked nothing better than to conquer the city established by escaped slaves? Do you know where this power comes from?
"We have trade, prodigious merchants who have connections throughout the known and unknown world. Our bank, The Iron Bank, has hands in all kinds of endeavors. Whenever we face an obstacle that we cannot overcome, we simply pay others to take care of the obstacle for us. There is simply no one and nothing that stands against us for the simple reason that their defeat is inevitable.
"And believe me when I say this, boy, you are not invincible." Ferrego ended coldly.
The tension was palpable in the garden. Both parties were looking at each other. Ferrego was looking back at Jon impassively, waiting for his response. Jon was defiantly glaring back. After a moment, he spoke.
"I have fought to death against a god and a demon. I am still here, while they are not. Unless you can descend a God itself, you will find that no one is equal to me." Jon challenged. Ferrego merely chuckled coldly at him.
"Ah! The follies of youth. Maybe, maybe not, but you forget that there are various ways to break an egg, so to speak. What would you do when people declined to do business with you? What would you do when cities bar you from entry? Will you live your life forever as an outlaw? There is nowhere to stay and nowhere to sleep. We will just embargo all trade to the place that will shelter you. Ultimately, you will have no choice but to return for us."
Jon stared at Ferrego's face for a long time. Finally, he said, "You are putting too much effort into a bastard."
"You are a curious boy, Snow. You overestimate your power but at the same time underestimate your importance, son of Eddard Stark." Jon's eyes widened slightly, and Ferrego chuckled at that as if he had gained an upper hand.
"It seems that you have led a sheltered life, Jon Snow. Your father hid you from the world because he was wise, but at the same time he failed to impart your importance to you." Jon did not refute the sentence, but for a different reason. "I am an intelligent man, anything less would not have granted me the position of Sealord. Let me educate you.
"You are no mere bastard, I dare say that you will find very few who do not know you. A mere milk-toothed boy in possession of a mystical blade, defeating an army of thousand strong ironborns, annihilating the Bolton castle, was banished from Westeros for said crime. All that before you could even grow a beard. It is not wrong to say that you are perhaps the most well-known person in Westeros. Any man with a working brain has realized that you are perhaps the most powerful weapon of this era." Here, Ferrego stopped for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was much calmer. Jon gripped the chair's armrest hard at being called a weapon.
"I know almost everything that is to be known about you, but the only thing I do not know is what you desire in your life. So I will ask, What do you want, Snow? You have power and recognition; accept my offer, and you will not want anything. There is nothing in this world that is beyond me, and if you want glory, then you will not find it lacking. You could roam across Essos without any fear of various slave masters who would not hesitate to enslave you. No one would dare lay their hands on you. With a right guidance, you could go farther than any other bastard in history—who knows, maybe farther than any trueborn and I can provide that. Take my hand in the spirit that it is being offered.
"But deny me, and you will never find respite. You will have to learn to live your life on the run. My son put a price on your head with just one guild. Imagine your life when I put a price on your head. If you think it will just stop here, then you are truly naïve. The Iron Throne broke with the hedonist king's appetite. Sooner or later, they will come to us, begging for gold, and we will happily provide it, but there will be conditions. Conditions that may not be so favorable for your home in the north. I heard that you adore your half siblings. Who knows what would happen to them if you made an enemy of me today? Ultimately, you will face me again, but on that occasion, you will be on your knees." Suddenly, it became harder to breathe for Ferrego, it felt like someone was squeezing his heart, and his son Fario was faring no better.
Jon's entire focus was on the creature before him that dared to threaten his home, his family, and his siblings. Jon quickly quenched the urge to wrap his hands around the man's neck. Jon ignored the urge to draw his sword at the man. Jon ignored the urge to skewer the man with the roots of his garden. Jon simply chose to stare down at the man kneeling in front of him.
"You are a curious one, my lord. You overestimate me at some points, but at the same time underestimate me at other points." He threw back Ferrego's words to him. But he was in no position to reply. He was busy trying to catch his next breath.
"You heard the tales about my prowess, heard about my undefeated status. If you were an intelligent man like you boasted, then you must have learned that the grey rats of Citadel are still unable to determine the extent of my power. If you are an intelligent man, then you must have heard how no one has been able to reign me in since that day when I defended my home from Ironborns." The intense pressure increased again, and Ferrego truly believed that his heart could stop at any moment. He dropped from his chair, paralyzed, and believed that he had heard another thud. But he was not sure, not with the intense pounding in his ears. His entire focus was on the boy, no, a demon whose eyes were burning with unholy light. He could not focus on anything else, no thoughts came to his mind. Everything was blank.
"If you were an intelligent man like you have claimed, then you would have realized that making an enemy out of me is the most foolish thing that you could have ever done."
"If you still believe yourself to be an intelligent man, then you should be asking yourself this. What is to stop me from killing both of you right here?"
"You think you can make an enemy out of the world and live without consequences?" Ferrego questioned him, not sure what he was expecting for an answer.
Jon merely shrugged his shoulders, not too concerned about the question.
"That is the most bullheaded response boy! You cannot expect to live so casually."
"I will go where my heart leads me, and no chains will bind me. I will bring down the gates that bar my entry; I will raze the city that dares to threaten my family." The air felt heavy with bloodlust. Countless images of slaughter filled Ferrego's vision—hills of corpses with rivers filled with blood flowing in between them instead of water. The skies were filled with dark red clouds that rained blood. But the most gruesome image was that of the boy who was gazing at him from above, like a god passing judgement.
The vision did not even last for a minute, but it was enough to scare the Sealord. Jon, in his anger, had unknowingly released a small amount of Ajin's authority that dealt with fear.
"I would have been willing to put this feud behind me; I was even willing to ignore your insignificant threats. But you had to go and threaten my siblings." Jon spoke coldly.
"M…my apo…apologies." Ferrego spoke fearfully as the pressure increased.
"You are confident in your prowess, and you have the right to it. You do have the power to make or destroy, but that is your hubris, my lord." Jon could feel the authority of Warrior trying to activate as well as the incantations of Ajin's power in the back of his mind, but he shut those down. While he was furious at the Sealord and his son, killing them would result in the end of his peaceful life. With a will of iron, he pushed his fury down, and suddenly Ferrego could breathe again. He dared not rise from his knees in fear of angering the demon in front of him.
"If you truly think that you can find someone to best a Campione, then by all means, I will give you a week. Find your warrior, army, or assassins that can defeat me. If you truly believe that you can make me fall on my knees, then you have a week, my lord, because at the end of this week I will come to find you again to renegotiate this peace talk. Pray that Braavos has enough money to find a better alternative; this does not fail now." Ferrego dared not to contradict him. A vision of death and destruction had left him weak on his knees.
As much as Jon wanted to end the matter with his blade here and now, Pine had taught him to think.
Flashback
"People will always come after you, be it for glory or for revenge. When you kill one of your challengers, his family and friends will come for revenge. Once you defeat them, their friends, and so on,. It is an endless cycle. You will always face stupid people, be they highborn or lowborn." Pine said. They were near the kneeling man's inn.
"So I am doomed to fight for the rest of my life?" Jon asked forlornly. Pine simply gave an eye smirk that Jon was used to seeing on her face. The children of the forest seemed to be emotionless, but Jon had spent years in her company to read her face.
"You were doomed to fight for the rest of your life since you slayed your first god." Jon threw a pebble at her half-heartedly, which she easily dodged.
"You are supposed to guide me, not make fun of me." Despite his words, he smiled easily in her presence. Pine threw a pebble at him at that comment.
"Being your guide does not forbid me from taking pleasure at your instance." Jon began giving her a hurt puppy look, and Pine relented.
"There is nothing you can do about gods, but for mortals, you have to break their spirit."
Flashback end
It took some time to truly understand what she meant, but this was the first time that he was going to implement her teachings. He did not know what had to do to break their spirit but he was going to show his power against Braavos' best effort and hoped that it worked.
He left the father son duo after giving them ultimatum. His heart broke a little when he saw trembling form of servants trying to hide from him when passed them. By the time he had reached the entrance of the mansion, a large crowd had gathered in front. He briefly considered jumping over the walls to escape notice but decided against it. He knew that his exploits would have already made their way into the city so hiding was useless. So he exited the mansion with bold, confident steps.
He was sure that by evening, the city would know his name and his exploits. He cursed himself when a thought struck him. Will the people of Braavos entertain him now that he has attacked their lord? Well, guess he has to find a place to sleep now.
Earlier that same day...
Bellegere Otherys was a seer, the best kept secret of Braavos, hidden behind the mask of a courtesan. She was the reason behind Braavos' most successful trades, same as her mother and her grandmother before her. The keyholders and various priests and priestesses attributed it to her Targaryen blood, however diluted it may have been.
But the thing about divining the future is that it is always vague, beset with symbols, and nobody could understand most of it completely unless the event has already passed. Due to this, the Iron Bank had hired scholars whose only task was to translate her visions, and they were paid handsomely for that.
But that changed almost three years ago. Her vision became clearer and more definite. She remembered her first clear vision vividly. It showed her a taboo tale, a tale of blasphemy. In it, she saw a God (she knew with undeniable certainty that the figure could be nothing other than a God) lying broken on the snowy ground, and standing above him was a small figure shrouded in darkness. At the same time, she felt as if the world began to shudder like something was broken, something that cannot be described. Even amidst all this, she could see a divine light shine upon the figure shrouded in darkness, but even then, it could not pierce the darkness.
Then she heard the voice of a goddess, after all, who else would have had that powerful voice. She heard the goddess announce the accession of a 'Campione'. Mortals had the power of a god in their hands who loomed above the other mortals of the entire world, one that could slay a god and usurp their authority. She would never be able to forget the words she heard or the titles that were bestowed upon him till her end.
The Supreme Ruler
The King
The Demon.
She never told anyone about that dream. Too afraid of the truth, she shoved the dream in the back of her mind. It was not long after that her visions became clear, she could predict the ventures that would turn heavy profit, which merchant was going to renege the deal. No longer was her predictions were wrapped in a riddle, they were clear and precise. When the news reached Braavos about the bastard son of Eddard Stark doing impossible things, the bankers asked her to divine the truth in those rumors. It took a little effort to look around the events but ultimately she confirmed the truth. The Keyholders immediately wanted to get him in their employ. She was asked to look into the future, look onto the path and devise a plan to get him to braavos.
But it was here that her powers failed her. While she could see the future more clearly now, the vision of Jon Snow was not one of them. All she could see was the impossibly golden sharp sword that could cut into anything. The first success was when she saw the golden sword battling against a skinless monster with bloody tentacles. She informed her superiors about this. They later learned that Jon Snow fought some monsters in Bolton Land that destroyed the castle and the town. It was clear to her that Jon Snow was the sword and the fleshy roots represented Boltons. It was confirmed that he had fought against some kind of creature that had decimated the Bolton lands. Jon Snow was banished by his lord father when he refused to accept the Wall.
The bankers were happy, for years, Eddard Stark had rebuffed all attempts to get in contact with Jon Snow. Eddard Stark had earned a name, the Wall. The way that he had protected his bastard son from all of the influence from the outside world was nothing short of frustrating.
But the celebration came too soon. Jon Snow had vanished just after leaving Winterfell and was not heard of ever since. The only other confusing vision she got was the one where she again saw those fleshy roots attacking a red cave that housed stags, lions, birds, and a fish. It was with the same roots that she saw Jon Snow fighting in the North. But how could that be? She clearly saw Jon Snow slaying the demon. The other curious thing was that the tentacles only attacked the fish. She could not see where the roots came from or why the roots left the fish alive. She asked the bankers to keep an eye on any news from King's Landing. A sennight later, she learned about the attack on the Red Keep. The contacts within the Sunset Kingdom were very tight-lipped and did not reveal more than she had already divined.
She had spent years trying to look into Jon Snow and the shrouded figure in the darkness, the 'Campione', with little to no success. While Jon Snow was symbolized as a golden sword in her visions, the Camopione took no form. The only thing that she knew was that the Campione was from had a niggling feeling in the back of her head that the boy was somehow connected to the Godslayer and that everything was somehow connected. But she could not find the thread that connected all of them.
When she woke up this particular day, she did not think it was any different than the other days. She was wondering if she should watch the performance of the young Westrosai swordsman. She had heard that the boy, almost a man, was dominating experienced swordsmen with a wooden sword. She cursed her luck when she heard that she missed the boys duel with the first sword of Braavos. She contemplated using her power to see the boy's path. If it proved to be interesting, she would consider him making a man. She had heard that the boy had declined various favors from well do establishments. But then she decided against it, she would first meet the boy before making any decision. There was fun in the mystery.
It was the middle of the day when she suddenly gained a vision. She saw a burning sword hanging right above the Sealord's manse. The heat was immense as it was melting the gold on which the Ironbank was built. The vision was accompanied by a sense of urgency. Jon Snow had come to Braavos, and she had to get to Ferrego fast before something happened. She had asked her handmaidens to prepare her carriage and send someone to clear the roads. She could not delay, lest she allow the city to be destroyed. She did not know what she would do there, but she had to get there fast.
She had reached the Sealord's palace in record time, but it still felt like ages. As her carriage took the final turn to the Sealord's mansion, she knew she was already late. A mob was surrounding the manse, and it took some efforts from her bodyguards to clear the path. A crowd was already gathering at the manse' gate, and it was a wonder why the city watch had not arrived. There was no doubt that the keyholders knew about the situation. When she entered the mansion, she was beset by wounded soldiers who all told the same story of a boy with a wooden sword who was looking for Fario.
Suddenly, it became all clear. She was the black pearl of Braavos, and of course she knew all the torrid affairs of the unnamed swordsman and Fario. The unnamed swordsman who was famous for fighting with a training sword was none other than Jon Snow, and Fario had just put a contract on his name.
She sped her steps to reach Sealord, fearing the worst. If something, anything, were to happen to Sealord, then Braavos would not spare any means to bring the perpetuator to justice. She found some brave servants who were still inside the mansion when it was attacked and stayed there. She got her story from them. She asked them to bring her to where the Sealord was resting. Ferrego was lying on his chair while a healer was hovering over him.
"Bellegre." Sealord greeted her in a hoarse voice.
"My lord." She curtsied.
"You can see that I was attacked today by the most bullheaded boy ever, with power to back it up. What did you see?" He asked, knowing full well that there was no reason for her to visit his mansion without prior notice. She gave him a look, then tilted her head towards the healer. Ferrego understood her and asked the healer to vacate the premise. He did so with some reluctance
"I saw a golden sword hanging about your manse and the gold of IronBank being melted into nothingness. It is clear that you were visited by Jon Snow and the influence of Iron Bank will not be enough. It may either mean the end of the influence of Iron Bank or the ruin of our way. I am not too sure."
"I see, I had hoped that you would have some vision to help us out of this situation." He said it in defeat, to which she shook her head. "What can you tell me about Campione?"
Bellegre's head shot up at that word. She gripped his hands tightly, eyes wide. "Where did you hear that name?!"
"Bellegre?" He was shocked to see her reaction.
"Where did you hear that name, my lord? Please, I have to know." She asked in fear with trembling voice.
"The boy, Jon Snow, said that we will have to find someone who can best a Campione if we want to defeat him. Your reaction leads me to believe that it is not a good thing for us."
Bellegre hesitated, searching for a way to put her vision in words without sounding mad but could not find any.
"You remember years ago, when Jon Snow's exploits reached Braavos, I asked the keyholders to gather all the books and scrolls salvaged from Valyria?" Ferrego nodded. For the first time in two years, she ultimately revealed the truth about the vision she had all those years ago.
The Ascension of a mortal who can slay a God.
The Supreme Ruler
And a Terrible foe.
That was what Ferrego had tangled with. The clues were there but she could not see it before. No, it was not that she could not see. It was because she did not want to see.
How could one accept that a milk toothed boy has bested a god? It was simply inconceivable but it was the truth. It cleared so many question in Bellegre's head but at the same time raised many.
"Are you sure?" He asked with a trembling voice. He did not want to believe her, it was too much for him. Being the Sealord of Braavos has conditioned him to the habit of throwing money at problems that could not be solved through normal means. But what could one do in the face of such an adversary? Was there any way to ask a god to fight on their behalf?
He had long ago abandoned the idea of praying to the gods. The gods never helped, and he did not know if he truly believed in the existence of such deities. If he had, he would not have done half of the things he had ordered during his tenure.
"I am as sure as I can be, my lord. Seeing the tapestry of fate is quite troublesome when it comes to Jon Snow, as you well know. I do not know the reason, but the only time I can get a glimpse of him is when the deed is already done. This is the first time that I have glimpsed a possible future. If we are to avoid it, then you have to promise me to give me your full support."
"Did you see something that could help us defeat Jon Snow?" He asked with hope. Bellegre gave a weak laugh at that. Ferrego looked at her in worry. She caught herself and gave him a somber smile.
"There is no conceivable way to defeat Jon Snow, my lord. There are no mortal means to stop him, and no mortals can harm him. Only the gods can challenge that boy to a fight, and unless I can divine a way to call upon a god to fight Jon Snow by the next week, I can only hope to sway his temper. In the event that I am unsuccessful, I can only advise a full surrender." She ended gravely.
Ferrego's head shot up at that. "Do you truly know what you are speaking of, Bellegre?! Since its establishment, Braavos has never surrendered, and you are advising we bow down in front of a Westrosi, a boy at that?!" By the end of the sentence, Ferrego was shouting. It was his pride that was wounded, and it would never recover if he were to bow down to that boy.
"I am merely suggesting that it is a distinct possibility, my lord. The boy is at the very least capable of raining destruction on Braavos never seen before. Are you truly not seeing what I am trying to paint here, my lord? That boy is not only capable of killing the gods but also usurping their authorities from them.
"I ask of you, my lord, is Braavos capable of fighting against gods?" She asked him gravely.
"Braavos has stood for years! Despite the efforts of the daughters of Valyria and the warlocks of the east, Braavos stood tall! Now you come here, declaring that the boy could spell the end of our city?
"Did you forget, Bellegre, that even the mighty Targaryens fell before the might of those that they looked down upon, the Targaryens that conquered the Sunset Kingdom with three mere dragons? One even fell to Dorne before the conquest was over."
"I would claim the same, my lord, even the Dragonlords fell when they angered the Fourteen Flames. We are not invincible." Bellegre implored. Ferrego slumped in defeat. She doubted that the fight had left him, but it was her words that put the damper on whatever plans he would have devised. Years of guiding the hands of Braavos had conditioned them to heed her words, most of the time.
"If what you say is true, then we are already doomed. Why are you here, then? You know I am duty bound to protect the interests of Braavos, and I do not know how to convince the keyholders that bowing down to that boy is in Braavos' best interest."
"Because the existence of Braavos is determined by your decision. In my vision, the sword was hanging over this very manse. The first domino of her destruction will start with you. Give me five days to find a way, and in the meantime, pull back the contract on his name and stop IronBank from retaliating. Tell them that I have foreseen the misfortune befalling Braavos should they attack Jon Snow, and I will meet with them in two days to counter the hotheads that will go behind your back. Do nothing that may provoke Snow to come back before the week is over." Ferrego could agree to that. This was much simpler than asking the keyholders to spare the boy.
"I have already sent out Fario to pull back the contract."
"That is good, then. In the meantime, I will look for Snow. Maybe a gentle approach will calm the boy down." She said it lightly. Ferrego hummed at that.
"You are going to seduce the boy, is that right?" She gave him a secret smile.
"If it comes to that,. You tried your approach, let me try mine. There is a reason why the Black pearl has been courtesan."
"You have my support. I will try to stop Citywatch from accosting the boy, though it may be difficult. Do whatever you think is necessary but you have to help me convince the keyholders. But know this, should you fail in your approach, then I will have no choice but to put the might of Braavos against the boy. The city will accept no less." She expected this much. She was successful on one front but she did not yet know how to approach on the second front.
She had to start somewhere and so she sent her handmaidens to look for the place where the boy was staying. In the meantime, she questioned about the nature of the God-slayer so she could divine the course of the future that she was to take.
Aurane Waters, Harbor
When the Bastard of Driftmark anchored at Harbor with his first trade vessel, the only thing in his mind was to complete his first trade without any complications. His father had gifted him this vessel when he showed interest in naval.
He was only expected to trade his wares and get a favorable deal for them so he was quite surprised that he heard about the attack on the Sealord's mansion a day ago. It was quite a suicidal move, but complications arose when it was revealed that the attack was carried out by a westrosi. He quickly instructed his first mate to find the details of the incident.
Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that the elusive bastard of Winterfell would be present in Braavos and at the center of the chaos. The more his first mate revealed, the more intrigued he got. He had to admit that the bastard of north had balls of valyrian steel.
Not only had the bastard attacked the sealord but had also delivered a challenge. Aurane was expected to conclude his business in four days but he was not going to miss the challenge. He had heard about his legend and could not miss the chance to see it with his own eyes. There was little doubt in his mind that Snow would win.
From one bastard to another, he felt a bit of kinship with Jon Snow. Both were bastards but while Aurane was still trying to make a name for himself, Jon Snow was already a legend. If there was any role model for the bastards of Westeros, then Jon Snow was it. Aurane saw what he wanted to become in him. He had already proven himself to be the sword and shield when he protected his home and half siblings from the Ironborn invasion, something that Aurane would wish to prove for his half siblings as well.
He would have to send a message to his father but would ask him not to reveal Snow's location this early. He would try to make contact with Snow before making any decisions.
After all, he could not imagine it being a favorable time for trade with Westrosies.
Jon's POV
He had expected some sort of retaliation after he came out of the manse. He had not thought this through. Clearly, having a lord for a father had made him arrogant, he realized. Being the son of Eddard Stark had granted him privileges that he often ignored.
He had been denied entry to establishments that earlier were more than willing to grant him bread and bed without any charge. Granted, he provided them with customers who came to challenge him or witness his duels.
He had been accosted by guards who wanted to put him a cell for attacking the Sealord but he had no plan to entertain them. He could have gone with them, but going with them may indicate that he was bowing to their demands.
He quickly dispatched the guards and left to find a place to sleep for the night. He was well versed in the life of the land, so he was not too concerned about the food. He was going to fish near the canals.
It was his second day when the guards found him again. But the trouble did not end there.
He was approached by a woman by the name of Lanna just as he had finished dealing with the latest interruption with the invitation from the Black Pearl of Braavos at his earliest convenience. As far as his education went, he knew that Black Pearl was some sort of courtesan. He pondered for a moment whether to accept it or not, but decided to entertain her. At least she was courteous enough to send an invitation rather than ordering him to present himself before her.
And he had nothing else to do.
Though he wondered why the courtesan was inviting him, he assumed that he could get the answer from her. Besides, he was not doing anything, and it was quite vexing to be in Braavos and not be able to watch the plays and wander the streets. Well, he could visit those sites, but it would be difficult to watch the plays being hounded by city watch all the time, and it would take the fun out. There was a list of things that he would demand from Sealord after the week was over, and aside from asking for a guide, he would like to see one last play before leaving the city.
The courtesan had also sent a carriage and escort for him, that was very thoughtful of her, but he preferred to walk. Soon they reached her manor, and it was everything grand as he would have expected. He was soon guided towards the inner sanctum of the manor to the meeting room, where she usually entertained high-value guests, at least that is what his guide told him.
She guided him to a room that immediately soothed his heart. It was as if the room was cut from the outside. It was of a simple design, quite different from the rest of the manse. The room had large windows that opened to the seaside of the city. He could smell the sea breeze from the room. The curtains were of soft colors that swayed in a gentle breeze. The cushions were so soft that he could imagine being lost in them. The room was glowing in the soft light of the morning.
He could see why anyone would entertain guests here. He was guided to a seat, where the servants brought him refreshments. He was tempted to decline, but after having only fish, he decided to partake in the cake. It was the most delicious thing he ever ate! He stopped himself from stuffing his face. He was just drinking the wine to wash down the cake when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen entered the room.
Her walk alone was so graceful that it looked like she was floating. Her golden brown skin was unblemished as far as he could see, and he could see a lot. Her hair was adorned by a single white lily that accented her face. His focus was drawn towards her body, which left him blushing up a storm.
She wore a dress that did not cover much but, at the same time, did not show anything of consequence. Her body looked like it was craved by an artist. The tantalizing curves were covered by a sheer brown dress, but it did not leave much for the imagination. The dress was accented by golden highlights, but the color of the dress matched so perfectly with her skin that it was hard to tell where the dress began and ended. His heart beat quickened as her fragrance reached his nose, and he subconsciously leaned forward.
Soon she reached before him and offered him a generous bow, displaying the hints of her assets. Her face was covered by light makeup, which highlighted her sharp cheekbones and small nose. Her eyes drew his attention so that he could see something that he could not explain. He was spellbound by the movements of her full bow-shaped lips. Heat was filling his body, and he was unable to describe the feeling. The closest came when he was kissed by Pine, but it paled in comparison. Belatedly, he realized that this beautiful creature was talking to him.
"This one is grateful that my Lord has graced me with his presence in such tense times. My name is Bellegre Otherys, the black pearl of Braavos."
Even her voice was laced with seduction! Jon had heard men talking about the beauty of women and had heard tales from Maester Luwin about men committing wars for women. His mother, Lyanna, came to mind as one of the reasons for the downfall of a dynasty.
He knew all of that, but it was his first time experiencing such beauty in person. This was the famous Black pearl that was argued to be the most beautiful woman in Essos. He had read about her in his studies!
"Th-the honor is mine, my lady, for witnessing your beauty more than any reward for risking entering the city." He hoped that he was able to cover his stutter at the beginning and not embarrass himself in front of this goddess.
The goddess in human form smiled at his words as if she were expecting this. He flushed at that, he had no experience dealing with women. His only experience with women came from his talks with Pine, Sansa, Jeyne, and, of course, Lady Catelyn. Considering all this, he had no way of knowing what was expected of him. Maybe it was a bad idea. He thought.
"I was hoping to catch your duels for the last week, but alas, my duties do not allow me much frivolity. If I had known that it was you who had graced Braavos with your presence, then I would have strived to make time. I deeply regretted when I learned that I missed your duel with the first sword of Braavos. There are few who can boast such, and even rarer are those who are not striving for the position." Jon thought back for a moment and realized what she was talking about. It was probably his third day here when he was challenged, the people were weirdly more excited than usual, and the inn owner had spared no expense in food and drinks after the duel. It was after that duel that the number of challengers increased, wanting to test his blade.
He knew that the challenger must have been famous for such a response, but he never imagined that he had crossed blades with the First sword. Jon would have felt more excited if not for the goddess in front of him.
Jon was not sure how to respond to her without stuttering.
The lady in front of him smiled, showing her beautiful white teeth. It was like the lady was trained for seduction. Jon would not be surprised if that was the truth. She took his hands in hers excitedly, and it became too much for him to focus on the actual topic.
"I have heard that you achieved every victory without drawing an actual blade."
Jon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. "Th-that is true, my lady. I-I have trouble limiting my strikes with an actual blade. If I am not too careful I can easily cut down any man standing in front of me. I do not believe in senseless slaughter." He did not know why he added the last part.
"So you have never drawn an actual blade against anyone?" she inquired.
"Not in a long time." Jon's tone changed, and Bellegre was trained to notice that.
"Not since the 'Breaking of Iron'." She commented.
Jon's gave her a sharp look and immediately alerted her. Bellegre merely smiled at the look. "Do not look surprised, my lord. Your feats are known across the land. Euron Greyjoy was a feared captain. No one dared to cross blades with the man without overwhelming odds, much less a lone boy. If he were left alone, he would have terrorized the seas, becoming a bane for any and all sea vessels as well as the port cities.
"Not only did you protect your home, but you also got rid of a monster before he could have become a true menace. Know that your actions that day protected the future and for that, you have my gratitude."
"I was merely protecting my home that day, my lady."
"That is true, my lord, but you should know that actions have consequences, positive or negative. Your actions that day had positive consequences, but you cannot act without thinking." Her tone changed and she lost the seductive edge. Jon knew that the Black Pearl of Braavos would not have asked to see him on a whim, not with the feud going on between him and the Sealord's family. The bluster left his body and he became alert.
"You invited me for something, my lady, and given the tense situation, it was not to talk about my swordplay. I ask you to speak your mind, my lady." Bellegere huffed at that.
"You are blunt, my lord. Very well, let me ask you something. Do you know what the true purpose of Black Pearl is? It is not that of a simple courtesan. It is to work as the guiding hand of Braavos. It is one of the best kept secrets of Braavos.
"For generations, my line has been entrusted with this power. Just like my mother before me and her mother before her." Jon looked surprised at that information. He never did consider that fact that such a beautiful lady in front of him could be such a greater player of the politics behind the curtains. It was perhaps pretentious of him to consider her as a simple courtesan.
Bellegre chuckled at his expression. "It is not surprising if you consider the powers bestowed upon my line. The line of Black Pearl is gifted with the blood of Valyria running through its veins. The women of our line can divine the future with such accuracy that not even the worshippers of R'hallor, the warlocks of Qarth or the residents of Assahi can boast.
"But two years ago, I received a taboo vision. One that I did not want to believe." She looked at Jon, peering into his eyes. Jon felt as if the woman was trying to look into his soul. "I saw the death of a god and the ascendance of a mortal." The words were spoken in a whisper, but that did not lessen the impact. Aside from her prophetic powers, the news that someone knew about his status was not so surprising for him. He had never actually hidden the fact that he had slain a god, but no one actually believed him.
"So you actually believe the rumors that I have slain a god?"
"I know that they are not mere hearsay, my lord. I saw your accession and the usurpation of the god's authority. If I had to guess, it was the Warrior, one of the aspects of the Seven-who-are-one. Is it not right?"
"You are correct in that regard, my lady." Jon commented.
"And then in the Bolton lands, you again fought against something that had divine nature. I was not able to pierce the veil, but if I had to guess, it was one of the unnamed gods of the north. You slayed them and usurped their authority too."
"What are you getting at, my lady? You have spoken about me since I came here. Things that I have not hidden from anyone but seldom take as truth. If you think you know some great secret, then I am afraid I need to tell you that I have never kept these things secret."
"You speak the truth, my lord. You never hid these facts, but what about the attack on King's Landing? You used the authority gained from God that you fought on the Bolton Lands." Jon immediately stood up. Bellegre was startled by his movement, but she schooled her features immediately.
"It was not my intention to cause you alarm with my words, my lord. I was just putting forth an argument.
"You came to Braavos without any intention of causing harm, your action do not point any other way. But when you stood against Aerion, grandson of Ferrego, you unintentionally stood against the powers that be. And powerful people have a habit of taking what they want and destroying anything not of their liking. Your action has consequences. These people may not be able to hurt you but they may go after the people close to you."
"Anyone that dares to threaten my friends and family is courting death, my lady." He said in a quiet voice with absolute certainty that shook Bellegre.
"You are talking about avenging them. But once the blade is drawn, there is nothing you can do. Would it not be possible to not make unnecessary enemies? The powerful have way of making things go their way and they never play fair. Having unmatched martial prowess does not mean that you are impervious to the games that these powerful people play." She cautioned.
Jon Snow was quiet for a moment. He had never thought about it that way. It was true that he could deal with anyone who would dare to lay hands on what was his but it was also true that he could not be with them all the time. A blade in the dark is just as dangerous, if not more, as the one on the battlefield. Was it not the truth that his family lay in ruins due to such machinations? The maesters of Citadel certainly controlled the nobles of Westros with their grasp of knowledge. His mind began running.
She was right, he needed someone who could protect his friends and family when he could not. But the question was where he could find those allies. He was already against someone who has the power and far better reach. The Sealord's words were clear that day, Braavos has the power to make of destroy anyone and his family in the north was no different.
"The hand holding the sword may very well be used to protect as well." Bellegre said lightly.
"What did you say, my lady?" Her words struck something in his mind.
"The hands holding the sword can also be used to protect my lord. The Braavos-"
"-has the reach and resource to undertake such endeavor." Jon completed her sentence with a revelation. Bellegre blinked at him. She had not expected him to grasp what she was talking about. Maybe it would not be too difficult to convince young Snow that having the friendship of Braavos will be more beneficial than decimating it.
She laid her hands on his arms and gave him a bright smile that had melted the hearts of hundreds. "Do you now see my lord, Would it not be beneficial to take the hand of Braavos?" She had put just enough charm to not make herself seem desperate. Snow was already thinking along the same lines so there was no need to sell the idea of friendship.
"The hand of friendship from Braavos leaves a lot to be desired in my personal experience. No, I am going to conquer Braavos," Jon declared much to the horror of Bellegre.
Unknown place
He had to do it. He had dreamt of it for the last few moons. His village had called him crazy for even considering it but he never gave his actions much thought, it was a task for his brother. He wanted to live in the moment and the only way he could do that was to let his mind run free. If he did not succeed, he would still consider his life well lived. It was more than he could ask for. He shook his head, such grim thoughts never suited him. He focused on the task at hand.
He had to sneak the juiciest sheep of his brother's herd.
To be continued
Yes, I know it is late. There is no need to point it out. If you are still here after the long wait, then my apologies and hope you liked this chapter.
This is not clearly a cliffhanger. Everyone who is reading this will know what the end result is going to be. The pleasure is wanting to know how it will come to be.
Reading my previous chapters, I noticed that I had just been using the major characters from the show and tried to include others. Writing about Sealord and Bellegre was hard because I was not familiar with their temperament. Some of you pointed out that my characters came out as wooden with question-and-response-type conversation. I am trying to rectify it but I have little hope for it. Most of my conversations are question/response.
Man, my life sounds depressing!
An earlier version of this chapter included Jon pulling his sword on the Sealord and decimating the Iron Bank, but I decided to scrap the chapter after deliberation. It would be too soon for that.
Please let me know I should have let it remain the same and what you want to see in the next chapter. As always, it is not a guarantee that I will include your ideas but you guys and gals have some good suggestions.
A warning. I have not had access to my PC for a long time, this chapter has been sitting on my hard drive for weeks, and while the next chapter has a skeleton of structure, my schedule is quite full, so...
Also, I am not getting alerts for review, so I might be late in responding to them, but I will get back to you as soon as I can. So thanks for all of your supporting reviews.
I hope to see you guys soon.
Bye.