*
Day one hundred in the reign of King Aegon the Sixth of his name
"My King?" Monty entered his room. "Lord Baratheon has reworked the breastplate and also made the other adjustments. He asks whether you can join him in the forge. That way he can make one last check."
Jon rose. "Monty, ask Renny to inform the Queen of my whereabouts. He can meet up with us in the forge when he's done." Jon stepped out of the room and noticed Joni lurking in the hallway. "Joni, you can clear away my empty plate and pitcher. Give cook my compliments. The stew was delicious. I liked the extra onions."
Joni hurried inside and was next seen running down the hallway skipping past Jon, Ser Oswell and Ser Rayford before the three men had walked twenty feet. They looked after him admiring the way he balanced the plate at the speed he was going.
"At least this time he didn't bump into me." Jon smiled. He kind of liked the young boy. Some time ago, he had mentioned him to Varys who had confessed that Joni was one of his little birds and the very one who brought him the most gossip featuring Jon's actions. He had reassured Jon that most of the times the kid gave an innocent account of how the servants perceived what Jon did or sometimes, more importantly, did not do. Varys had chuckled when the last report had consisted of some choice words of a disgruntled maid who had not succeeded in flirting with the handsome King.
After learning that, Jon had paid extra attention and behaved more circumspect when he saw Joni or other servants in the vicinity. One thing was sure though, Sansa's method of giving only one syllable answers didn't work in his case. If anything it made them more persistent and they sought other methods to get him to notice them. He needed to use all Ser Arthur's foot training to avoid servants from cornering him between some furniture or in narrow passageways so they could brush up against him when they moved past him. Luckily, the Red Keep had not that many confined spaces and he had even rearranged some chairs in their quarters. He smiled when he remembered how Dany had teased him when he had explained, beet red, why he had angled their love seat a bit differently. Dany had taken pity on him and helped him out with a more effective tactic. More than one female servant had been reassigned to a distant part of the Red Keep and the few he encountered now always averted their eyes after performing an obligatory curtsy.
He couldn't fault young Joni though for reporting on him. It was clear that the boy worked hard, had the very best intentions and was loved by most of the servants. When Varys had reassured him that Joni could be trusted and was trained to never ever tell a living soul what he witnessed besides Varys, Jon had even suggested that Joni could take up the function of cupbearer during his small council meetings. A cupbearer was the only servant that had permission to enter briefly during meetings to provide them with refreshments. If a servant had to be present when delicate subjects were discussed, it was best that it was someone they could trust.
Jon, Monty and his two Kingsguards exited the Keep and quickly crossed the courtyard to the enlarged building that housed the forge. It was pouring rather heavily and his coat was soaking wet when he arrived in the workshop. The first person he saw there was his little cousin who sat on a stool and was cleaning some of the tools.
She jumped off her seat and hugged him. "I hardly get to see you." She complained while she clung to him not minding getting wet in the process. "Where is Ghost? Never mind. Seeing that he is not here, he can only be with Daenerys. Do you have time to spar later? I learned some nice moves. I bet I can duck under most of your swings now."
Jon disentangled her arms from his torso when he realised now was the time to get a word in when Arya paused for breath. "Come to my private training yard tomorrow morning. You can show me then." He promised her then tugged at the apron she was wearing. "Are you a blacksmith's apprentice now as well as a future knight?" He nodded toward the tools she had been cleaning.
"I left Sansa with the other ladies. They were just doing some boring stuff. I wanted to sneak off somewhere with Gendry but he said he needed to finish your armour first. It is awesome, Jon! He just went to the backroom to assemble all the pieces and told me if I wanted to stay and watch you try it on, I had to make myself useful in the meantime."
"I see." Jon looked sternly at Monty who had been mocking the Stark Princess when he thought his King was not paying attention to him. "Monty, finish what Princess Arya was doing. She and I will join Lord Baratheon in the back room. You will stay here. If Renny joins you, he can assist you. Don't move from this table until I instruct you otherwise." Jon watched Monty's face fall but he ignored it and without changing his stern expression, he gestured for the young boy to get on with it. Then he followed Arya who was glad to have an excuse to enter the backroom with all the new super-secret Valyrian weapons.
Gendry was in the process of securing the cuisses to the poleyns and barely looked up when the two of them entered the large back room. "I widened the cuisses and the rerebraces so they'll be less tight. Just give me a few more moments."
Arya with a cloth in her hands picked up the pristinely polished dark breastplate making sure only the cloth touched the plate so she left no fingerprints. Jon reckoned that she must have been reprimanded by Gendry at one time and the lesson had clearly stuck. "Are these real rubies?" She turned to Jon with her big eyes.
He swallowed when he almost drowned into the innocent version of his own eyes that looked at him with not only awe for the rubies but also unconditional trust that whatever answer he would provide, she would believe without question. He nodded. "They were a gift from House Celtigar. I had Gendry set them in the exact same spots as"
"As Prince Rhaegar's!" Arya cut him off by finishing his sentence enthusiastically. "Oh and look at these pauldrons!" She studied them more closely and Jon could have sworn her grey Stark eyes widened even more. "I bet that Prince Rhaegar did not have a direwolf on his armour."
"No he didn't." Jon smiled in reaction to the unspoken approval that emanated from her entire demeanour and studied the tiny direwolf looking up at the three intertwined dragons. "That marks it as mine."
"The Northern Lords love your sigil, Jon." Arya told him proudly. "They say you are more a man of the North than a Southerner. Don't shake your head. That is the greatest compliment they could ever give you."
"Well, then I humbly accept it, my favourite cousin. Will you help Gendry put on this armour or do I need to call my squires in here?"
"I can manage." She looked over to the man she proclaimed to be her second best friend and smiled when the new Lord Baratheon nodded. "With Gendry's help we'll have you fitted in no time." She picked up the padded armour from a side table.
It took some doing, but eventually Jon was covered from head to toe with his new Valyrian Steel armour. Gendry used a cloth to wipe away some finger prints from where they had needed to hold the armour in place to strap it tightly together. He circled Jon a few times asking him to move a limb in a certain direction, or to bend left, right and bow forward.
"I can't believe how light it feels." Jon admired the full harness. "You outdid yourself, Gendry. I owe you. Thanks ever so much."
"You'll need something to adorn the top of the helmet." Arya remarked when Gendry kept silent, his eyes still diligently studying the way the different parts of the harness behaved as Jon moved. She had been following the proceedings with interest and had been quick to adjust the rerebrace on Jon's left knee slightly so Gendry did not need to bend his big frame to reach it.
Jon silently admitted that Arya had shown more patience than him at one instance when they had needed several tries before his gauntlet functioned properly. He opened his visor to look at her and tentatively shook his head testing out the flexibility of the gorget. "I don't think so, Arya."
She pouted. "Right now it is just like any other helmet and people will not recognise you from a distance."
"Those close to me will see the rubies and know who I am. My enemies do not need to have a clear target from afar."
"They will soon come to recognise the colour of your armour, Jon." Gendry cautioned.
Jon turned his attention to his friend noticing that the blush on his cheeks that his praise had put there had not entirely receded yet. An idea formed in his head but first he needed to finish what he came here to do. "You will make more pieces like this, Gendry. Perhaps not many full body harnesses but most certainly several breast plates and helmets. The colour of my armour will not stand out when I move among my Kingsguard. Did you find time to finish the lance and mace?"
"I did. From the same batch that I forged Icefire." Gendry moved to the left corner and opened a chest . He took out a dangerous looking club with a Valyrian steel head.
Jon nodded and accepted the weapon. He checked the weight and examined it thoroughly. Things were proceeding as planned. The second batch of Valyrian Steel had been of even higher quality as the first one. Minding Bran's words, he had commissioned a sword to be made from it that was the exact copy of Blackfyre and had named it Icefire. "Excellent work as always, Gendry."
Gendry literally beamed and lifted the lance that hung on the wall behind Jon. Jon put the mace down and accepted the lance making sure not to hit anything. In the confined space they were in he could only test its weight. There was no room to move it about much. Holding it still he turned to his cousin. "'Arya, will you ask Ser Oswell and Ser Rayford to step inside for a moment? I want them to have a chance to see me in this armour before I have it removed."
As soon as Arya left the room, Jon attached the lance back to the wall and removed his helmet. Then despite being hindered by the harness, he hugged his friend awkwardly to convey his gratitude and spoke near his ear. "The next armour you make is for yourself, do you hear me? A full body harness to fit your large frame. And while you're at it, you can upgrade your warhammer with Valyrian steel. Or better still, make an entirely new one. And when you get to the point that you will need assistance to fit your harness to your form, you have my permission to send for Tobho Mott as often as necessary. We'll find some pretext. Don't you worry."
Gendry nodded and released Jon. His eyes were suspiciously moist.
Jon took advantage of the fact that his friend was rendered speechless and added. "And now that I have you in such a good mood, no excuses tonight. As soon as I leave here, I want you to go clean yourself up. You have the place of honour tonight at the high table. And come prepared to dance with each Lady-in-Waiting at least once. A travelling minstrel is visiting us for a sennight. Dany has arranged for him to play after supper."
Jon smiled when Gendry started frowning. He thumbed his shoulder, careful to do it gently, conscious of the steel gauntlets he was still wearing "I know, I told my wife she appointed way too many Ladies. I'll amend my decree. Dance at least four dances and choose freely among all the females present."
"Your Grace?" Ser Oswell announced his arrival.
Jon put his helmet back on and closed his visor before he turned around and faced his Kingsguard.
Ser Oswell took a step back and almost stumbled into Ser Rayford. "It is uncanny. Those who loved your father will be heartened by the sight of you in that armour, my King. I pray that he is somewhere in the Seven Heavens looking down on you. Is there still time to fetch Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur? They wouldn't want to miss this sight."
Jon shook his head, marvelling at the way the harness allowed him to do so without much hindrance. "They witnessed the first fitting. But don't be mad at them. I begged them to keep it a secret from you. I wanted to surprise you and hear your unbiased opinion."
"Then you succeeded, my King." Ser Oswell swallowed. A thick silence fell over the room.
Jon was grateful when Ser Rayford distracted them all when he asked his King a question. "If I may ask, your Grace, why are your squires cleaning every tool they can find in the workshop? Have they seen you like this yet?"
Jon lifted the visor of his helmet when he turned to Ser Rayford. He briefly considered that this was the first time that Ser Rayford had asked him a question not directly related to his Kingsguard duty. Keeping his tone light to convey that he did not mind in the least he answered quickly before the knight could grow self-conscious. "A small lesson needed to be taught. It will have taken root by now. By all means, call them in here. They need to learn how to get this thing off me. Not better time to start as today."
Ser Oswell pulling himself out of his memories, interjected. "Best let Renny and Monty practice to put in on as well. The most difficult part will be to teach them not to soil it with fingerprints while going about it fast enough. My advice is to try the harness on at least once a day until they get the hang of it. We are leaving for war soon. It is best for them to be prepared."
"I will put it on each morning for the latter part of my training session. I need to learn how to fight in it as well." Jon nodded and then turned to his young cousin who had been on her best behaviour the entire time. "Princess Arya, will you call Renfric Rykker and Monteric Velaryon in here please?"
Arya rolled her eyes at hearing her being called by her title by him but jumped of the table she had been seated on and obeyed him all the same.
***
Later that same day
"You called for us, your Graces?" Maester Pylos stepped into their private sitting room a bit hesitantly with Sam at his heels."
Jon and Dany sat close together on their loveseat. He held her small hand in his to offer her support. Ghost was asleep at their feet. "We did. Please take a seat."
"Congratulations on the first one hundred days of your reign, your Graces. We started calculating from the day you ascended the throne, not the crowning ceremony," Sam was quick to clarify once he and his future colleague were seated on the two chairs facing the royal couples.
Jon and Dany looked at each other. Dany was the one to respond. "Perhaps we should pay more attention to such matters. I'll announce that the banquet tonight is in celebration of this event and see if a few more nobles residing in King's Landing are willing to attend at such short notice. The bard will be pleased to have his first performance at the royal court be for a special occasion."
"We will keep using the normal calendar that was started by Aegon the First of his Name. It still is 299 AL, soon to be 300 AL." Jon made his wishes clear.
"Of course, Jon. But you have to admit that it is a milestone. Besides, it does not show disrespect to your ancestor if you keep a second tally alongside it. If anything, uh, it makes it easier to keep track of the accomplishments of your reign." Sam defended their point of view sheepishly.
"My King," Maester Pylos intervened when Sam had fallen silent and his King did not seem to offer any further reaction. "If I may? Why did you summon us if it was not to congratulate you? Both of you." He amended hastily.
Jon looked at Dany who gestured for him to speak. He adjusted his grip on her hand while he spoke up. "We have need for your advice on a delicate matter."
Maester Pylos face lit up but Sam guessed from talking to his friend about this more than once before that the Maester's hopes would be thwarted.
"Lord Davos shared with us some private experiences and we would like to hear whether you can confirm some of what he said with what you were taught at the Citadel and perhaps offer some uh additional advice." Jon started to explain cautiously.
"We are at your service, your Graces." Maester Pylos responded. The formal speech of the Maester did nothing fool anyone. Maester Pylos' expression easily betrayed his growing curiosity.
"A sennight ago," Dany spoke up now while she squeezed his hand to the point where it became somewhat painful, "my moonblood flowed again for four days. That makes it the third time since we were wed. I, uh or rather we wondered what the average time is for a married woman to conceive for the first time?"
"There is no known average." Maester Pylos offered after a short deliberation. "We are taught that there is no reason for concern during the first two years of marriage. If no quickening occurs in that period, then chances diminish and drop to one in ten that the couple will still be able to conceive."
"Lord Davos told us that it took them a year to conceive and after the birth of his firstborn, his wife got pregnant each time that she had recovered enough to couple again." Jon blushed and cursed himself for his unease. He altered his grip on Dany's hand, opting for weaving their fingers together.
"That is something we were taught as well, your Graces. When a woman's body has produced a living child, it knows how to do it, so to speak. She becomes more fertile, and will in most cases bear many children if her husband regularly uh gives her his seed." He stammered the last part, his cheeks as red as the King's.
"Is there anything a couple can do to enhance their chances to conceive this first child?" Now it was Dany whose cheeks coloured red. Jon stroked her hand with his thumb.
Sam shook his head at Maester Pylos conveying that in this matter it was up to him to advise the royal couple. The Maester swallowed thickly. "There are theories that state that nine or ten days after a woman's moonblood stops, there is a window of four to five days that she has the most chance to conceive. So you could pay attention to couple around that time." The young Maester swallowed thickly. "Anything else, I would venture to say, is in the hand of the Gods. You are still very young, my Queen and of a healthy constitution. I can reassure you that as long as your moonblood comes every moon's turn, your body is fertile and you have every chance to grow a child in your womb. Try not to let your husband's seed flow out of you immediately after the coupling. Wait some time before sitting upright or getting up from the bed. The only other advice I can give you is not to focus on it too much. Couple regularly and let nature run its course."
Silence fell over the room when the Maester stopped talking. Maester Pylos as well as Sam pretended to be fascinated with the clouds they could see moving through the high windows. Jon brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand. Then he looked up toward his friend. "Sam?" The one word was enough to convey his question.
"I concur with Maester Pylos, Jon." Sam dropped all formality and Jon smiled encouragingly, urging him to elaborate. Sam as always did not disappoint. His eyes embraced the both of them warmly when he added. "I would venture to say that it is much too early for this conversation. The both of you have been married for a meagre eighty six days. Don't focus too much on Princess Catelyn's first pregnancy. I know she is proud of what she accomplished but that was merely a stroke of luck. In the Reach alone, I know of several married couples who conceived their first child after more than twelve moons and have a large number of healthy children."
"Thank you, Sam." His eyes fell on the Maester. "Maester Pylos, we are very grateful for your insight." The tone of Jon's voice indicated that the Maester was allowed to retire. Maester Pylos bowed quickly and was visibly eager to leave the room. Sam on the other hand was a bit slower to rise from his chair.
Jon arched a brow. "Eighty-six days, Sam? Really?" His teasing tone changed the entire dynamic in the room.
"Uh, well, you were married on day fourteen, it is day one hundred, so …"
"I get the gist. You have such eye for detail. Perhaps a heads up from you might be helpful on day one hundred of our marriage and any significant number worth celebrating in future?" Jon kept his face straight.
Sam looked flabbergasted and Jon chuckled pleased to see a smile appear on Dany's face as well. "Just kidding." When Sam released a breath he added in a playful manner. "For the most part." Sam risked a smile and Jon praised him, still intent after all this time on helping his friend grow more confident. "You are a wonder with figures, Sam. I bet you can calculate circles around my Master of Coin."
"I might have won a speed contest," Sam admitted and Jon saw his friend grow more self-assured before his eyes as he grinned. "Would you believe me when I told you that Lord Tyrion bet me that he could calculate one hundred sums faster than me?" He paused shortly to grow the suspense. "I beat him by five." Sam smiled broadly now.
"I would have bet my crown on it. Of course I believe you!" Jon didn't hesitate to answer as Dany added. "Good for you, Sam."
"But seriously, Jon, Queen Daenerys, uh."
"Daenerys, please." Daenerys interjected. And Jon was glad she seemed recovered from the embarrassing conversation sufficiently to help him put his friend at ease.
"Daenerys," Sam repeated dutifully. "There really is nothing for you two to worry about. I can add some advice from our Maester at Horn Hill. I once overheard him counsel a distant cousin that chances of conception were higher when the husband released his seed while the female was slick and relaxed enough to enjoy the uh..."
"We get it, Sam. Thanks for sharing that with us. We will certainly consider all the advice that you and Maester Pylos gave us," Jon promised.
"And we will do our best to be a bit more patient in future. It is true what Maester Pylos said. We are still rather young to become parents." Dany added.
"Well, then if you have nothing further to discuss with me, I'll leave you to it." Sam grew warm when he realised what he had just implied. He quickly bowed and hurried for the door.
"See you at supper, Sam." Jon called after him the mirth apparent in his voice. "Come prepared to dance."
As soon as the door closed after his friend, Dany hid her face in Jon's tunic. "That was so embarrassing. I feel so foolish."
"No more than I, I assure you." He stroked her hair twirling the ends of some loose strands around his finger. "There is still time before we need to leave our chambers. Allow me carry you to our bed. I know it is not one of your more fertile days according to the Maester but I want to worship your body and that leads inevitably to filling you up with my seed. Practice makes perfect or so Ser Arthur told me too many times to ever forget it. Let me see if I can get you to relax. I've learned over time that I should never dismiss Sam's advice."
Dany got up. "I would lodge a formal complaint with the Citadel if our talk with Maester Pylos resulted in you coupling with me only on those few days every moon. I would be forced to ask Irri about new ways to seduce my husband." She held out her hand and gave him a teasing smile.
"You'll never need to, my love. Just smile at me like this and I am lost. You recall those notorious baser urges that you accused me of having? They will be my downfall each and every time." Jon dropped to his knees and teased her womanhood with his nose by turning his face left and right. Not satisfied with smelling her arousal through her clothing, his hands slowly teased her skirt upwards.
"I've grown rather fond of your notorious urges." She moaned when his mouth nipped at her folds wetting her smallclothes with his saliva. "Perhaps I should take you up on your suggestion and move this to our bed. Else you will have to catch me before my legs can't carry my weight any longer."
"Always." He pulled her smallclothes down and gave her naked flesh a soft kiss before covering it up again. Then he stood and swept her up in his strong arms. Making sure that he did not trip over Ghost, he carried her to the bedroom. "I am going to allow my baser urges free reign now. So it is in your interest to help me if you fancy wearing these clothes again. I need you naked sooner rather than later."
****
In the training yard the next morning, it took his squires a long time to put on his armour and Jon almost gave up the entire endeavour. Not having slept much and tired out from the first part of his training, he was getting antsy. Ser Arthur just laughed and told him to give it a couple of days. They were alone in his private training yard. Jon had asked his Kingsguard to prevent anyone from following his training session. He had opted to keep the new armour a surprise until his first public appearance. Varys had suggested to provide no explanation on the origin of the armour should anyone be bold enough to ask him to his face. Mystery made for the most interesting tales Varys had advised the small council when the subject had come up. They will believe it is really your father's armour that has magically found its way to its rightful heir. Nobody will believe that you are able to forge Valyrian steel. That would be considered the fairy tale.
Luck was not with him that morning or so it seemed. He had barely started his first bout and was still testing all his movements in the Valyrian armour when the rain started up. He muttered a curse the moment he found shelter in the small barrack where they kept the training equipment. When his squires had finished drying off and removing his armour, he dismissed them rather curtly and sat down on a primitive stool.
Ser Arthur fetched a similar footstool and the remainder of the pitcher of water they had used during their session. He handed his King the pitcher while he installed himself close by. He chuckled when he watched Jon's morose expression. "You remind me of a spoiled child, my King. These boys are doing the best they can. You were lucky to find two loyal squires that get along. But then again, it will help build their character. You have always been going easy on them. Squires learn best by being disciplined."
Jon studied Ser Arthur. It was not often that the man let down his guard enough to address him in such a familiar manner. Ser Oswell was waiting at the other side of the courtyard in the small building where a fire was lit and hot drinks were available. When Jon had told them that he would need only one of them to spar with him for this latter part of his training session since he needed to grow familiar with his new armour first, Ser Oswell who had torn his sleeve courtesy of Arya's short visit, had opted to keep watch from that building. The knight intended to treat himself to a warm cup of herbal tea while a servant mended the tear. Jon was not going to waste this unexpected private time with Ser Arthur. He drank half of what still remained of the water and handed the pitcher back to Ser Arthur.
"Sometimes I feel guilty that I leave most of my squires' training sessions in the hands of recruits that Ser Gerold appoints. I tell myself that that will change when they will have progressed further with their sword skills but in the end, I have to confess that that is just an excuse." He looked up at Ser Arthur and saw the knight for once was not as alert as always. Jon raised his voice slightly. "Ser Arthur?" When the knight focussed his eyes again Jon continued, his voice reverting to the hushed tones they were speaking in before. "Is something the matter?"
Ser Arthur hesitated.
"Whatever the realm forces us to be in public, you are still my former mentor, you all but raised me and I consider you a dear and loyal friend. Just tell me, please?"
Ser Arthur moved the tiny stool a little closer to his King. "You and Daenerys consulted with the Maester in your bedroom yesterday. Are you …, is she …?"
If it had been anyone else, Jon in his current mood would sigh and give a terse answer but in this instance he was glad that Ser Arthur felt comfortable enough to bring up such a personal subject. "Not yet," he answered softly. "Not by lack of trying though." He nudged Ser Arthur's shoulder to show him that he didn't mind the intrusive question.
"Soon then," Ser Arthur said and Jon wished he had the same faith as his Kingsguard. "You have such a natural way of interacting with each other. Especially in private." The knight added.
"Yeah. If anyone knows, that would be my loyal Kingsguard. Sometimes I wonder what you hear on the other side of that door at night. It keeps being a bit weird that someone is always there when Dany and I, you know…"
"We do not hear much, my King. I assure you. And the titbits that we hear ... well, how shall I put it? Those are much more agreeable sounds than the ones that I had to endure whilst guarding the door of your grandfather's bedchamber." Ser Arthur shook his head. "Forget that I said that. All I meant was that we hardly hear anything, my King, except for the occasional bout of laughter. But that only makes a boring watch more agreeable."
"If ever you want to uh," Jon hesitated not sure how to formulate this.
"I know. Not anytime soon. That White Cloak is my life, my identity. And I don't want privileges. All members of the Kingsguard are brothers, equals. I won't ask for fewer night shifts at the expense of my brothers."
"I meant uh," Once more Jon couldn't finish his sentence.
"I know what you meant, my King. I had a talk with Davos a while back at the Free Folk settlement when I was a bit lost since you were gone for days on a scouting mission. He told me about your idea of making me an honourable Kingsguard. It wouldn't work. It is all or nothing."
Jon nodded. "I realise that now. I have been obliged to adjust several plans and ideals I had before taking the throne." He studied his friend and Kingsguard for a while before asking hesitantly. "And the chastity vow? Doesn't that weigh on you?" To Jon's embarrassment his cheeks coloured bright red. He had never heard as much as a whisper of Ser Arthur taking a whore or any female for that matter to his bed. And yet the loyal knight must have heard more than once how pleasurable coupling was when he stood at Jon's door during one of his nightshifts.
Ser Arthur however had no qualms in answering this invasive question. "Not really. I have never known any different. You can't miss what you don't know."
"Can I ask you something else?" Jon asked after a short pause when he had digested Ser Arthur's answer.
Ser Arthur laughed out loud. "Now you have me wondering. You should have asked permission for that former question. That was a breach of propriety and a very personal question to voice out loud. I dread to imagine what you are about to ask if you think you need my permission before going ahead."
"Something difficult on my part to ask, I guess." Jon looked hesitant.
"Now don't grow shy on my behalf, Jon. To use your own words, I am still your former mentor and a dear and loyal friend. Just ask your question, please."
Jon nodded. "Have you, uh have you ever, while you were involved in a very intensive fight, felt as if everything slowed down and you had ample time to perfect each move? Could predict each action of your opponent long before he made it and felt so certain that you were choosing the right strike, that your feet moved of their own accord and that you would prevail because your cause was righteous?"
Ser Arthur studied him closely. "I'd like to think that I have always fought on the side that was righteous. I also know that I am faster than my opponents, present company excepted perhaps. But I suspect that that is not what you meant with your question?"
"No it is not. It is rather difficult to explain. What I am trying to describe is something like this." Jon stood and began to perform a few graceful fight moves at a slow speed."
"You truly experienced something like that during a high-speed fight?"
Jon sat down again. "Once when I fought a White Walker and feared for my life. If not for entering that state of trance, I would not have lasted until help arrived. I have tried to replicate that feeling. Only when several of you go all out against me simultaneously, can I get close to experiencing something similar."
"Maybe this is a Targaryen thing?" Ser Arthur mused out loud. "Prince Rhaegar never mentioned it though".
"Maester Aemon never mentioned it either. Nor have I found anything in the countless books Sam and I have browsed through. Sam thinks it might be something unique to my person because I am the first child born of Ice and Fire as he calls it. Bran urges me to embrace the magic in my blood. But before I am ready to entertain any of those theories, I wanted to check whether this is not just something that happens when competent warriors go all out. If it was, then surely you would know?"
"Now I better understand the determination and the excessive fervour that you often bring to your training sessions. You were always a diligent student but these last few moons, it looked like you were possessed by some kind of fighting demon at times."
"You can't help me then?" Jon insisted to be sure.
"I can't explain the phenomenon, no. I'm sorry, my King."
"I fear that I know too little of what really matters. I sometimes resent it that the Gods grant us only bits of information and that as a consequence I am forced to make life changing decisions based on interpretations that no one can say for certain whether they are entirely accurate or complete."
"Isn't that the same for everyone who bears responsibility and has to lead people?" Ser Arthur remarked.
"Perhaps, but the Gods have me believe that on my actions, on the choices that I make, depends the survival of all living beings."
Ser Arthur didn't respond to that and Jon also stayed quiet for a while. "My King, I think I have earned the right to ask you a question now." Ser Arthur broke the silence.
"You can always ask," Jon gave him a small encouraging smile and added the sentence that Ser Arthur and his other mentors had often used when he was younger. "I can't promise you that the answer will satisfy you though."
Ser Arthur smiled a faraway look in his eyes. "That brings back so many memories."
"Nice ones." Jon agreed and once more brushed against Ser Arthur's shoulder.
"Very nice ones." Ser Arthur affirmed. "I hate to spoil the mood but I need to ask. I have the feeling that we are being kept in the dark about some things. I don't need to know everything of course but I worry about Dorne, and about Edric who I believe is back at Starfall. Prince Oberyn has been more secretive than ever and that is not a good sign. He left about a moon ago rather mysteriously. Normally he would have taken his leave of me but he didn't. Is there something you can share with me?"
Jon nodded deep in thought. "I have been remiss. I apologize. We have kept certain things under wraps so Stannis Baratheon would keep guessing as well. You see, Lord Baratheon sabotaged communications between Dorne and the Crownlands for a while and we used the opportunity to spread false rumours." Jon held nothing back and told him all that had been put in motion. He ended his explanation smiling tentatively when he said. "If all goes as planned, we will most certainly meet up with Edric in the Stormlands."
"Thank you, my King. I will not breathe a worth of this to anyone." Ser Arthur replied reverting to his more formal behaviour.
"I know, Ser Arthur. I missed this, us talking like this. The day you decide to change your vocation …"
"I know." Ser Arthur nudged his King's shoulders. "You'd be the first one that I tell. Perhaps we should join Ser Oswell. I could use a warm drink myself. We ran out of water a while ago."
Jon stood and gathered his things. "Follow me." Even though Ser Arthur had not been able to give him any explanation regarding his strange fighting trance, Jon felt better than ever. Ser Arthur had felt so at ease with him that he had called him Jon more than once. He couldn't remember how long ago it had been since that had occurred. Ever since he had learned of his heritage, his Kingsguard had started referring to him as 'my Prince'. He had always regarded it as a small victory when he got them to drop their guard and call him by his given name. But it hadn't happened often now he was King. They always addressed him formally as 'my King' or 'your Grace'. But not this time. For a moment he had just been Jon to Ser Arthur. He would make certain to tell Dany tonight. She would understand how much it meant to him that Ser Arthur had called him a dear and loyal friend. Even if it had been Jon's own words that the knight had quoted back to him, Jon had felt that Ser Arthur had meant every word. This innocent conversation that had started with him being in a bad mood, had turned out to be one he would not have wanted to miss for all the gold in the realm.
***