One Week Later:
Beyond the Wall:
"No. No. No! NO! NO! That is not meant to happen!" The Children of the Forest paused as they looked at their old friend, who was stuck in the branches of their home.
Brynden could not understand. The plan was set along the path. There was supposed to be no changes to it and any changes were going to be dealt with immediately.
'So, why? Why was this Blood One so hard to deal with?' Gritting his teeth as he warged into one of his ravens again, Bloodraven glared at the form of Jon Snow.
The bastard was not in Winterfell nor at the Wall like planned, and instead was training alongside the brother of the current Lord Blackmyre and the son of Leo Tyrell.
The last one was another change that he did not expect. To his calculations, the young squire should be squiring under Willas Tyrell, not Marlon Long.
These changes, while subtle, were also abrupt enough to throw his long-term ones into disarray, making him frown as he warged into another raven.
Thankfully, the changes in his plans seemed to centered around the Blood One as the ones with Ned Stark and the Stark children were still in play. However, that leads him to an intriguing yet worrying question.
'Why does the Dark One keep a close eye on you, Blood One?' He thought, biting his lip before shaking his head.
Enough worrying. The Tourney of the Hand was approaching and he needed to make sure the changes did not affect anything there.
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At the same moment:
Training Yard, New Keep:
"Keep your shield arm up, Beesbury!" Marlon barked and Lyonel grimaced as Jon twirled his sword while standing opposite of him.
With a charge, Jon swung down, but it was a feint, twisting his blade at the last moment to smack it against Lyonel's side. The squire grunted but fought through the pain, trapping Jon's arm against his side while smashing his shield forward.
A cough escaped the Snow's lips as the shield crashed into his chest, forcing back three paces as Marlon nodded.
"Good! Use that shield! Don't just hide behind it!" Jon stood up straight as Lyonel charged again, swinging his practise sword down. Blocking the overhead attack, Jon fell to a knee and made Lyonel stumble forward.
With a grunt, the Snow ducked under before heaving, lifting the squire over his shoulder and throwing him to the ground. Resting his sword against Lyonel's neck while pinning his sword arm to the ground with his shield hand, Jon smiled as Lyonel sighed.
"Seven hells."
"You did well," Jon spoke with a chuckle, helping his fellow squire up as Lyonel shook his head.
"Yet, I have won just three out of the twelve times we've sparred."
"That is because Snow is willing to abandon his pride to try a dirty tactic," Marlon cut in, making Lyonel grimace as Jon patted his shoulder. "I thought I've taught you many times that wanting to preserve your pride is foolish in battle. Fight and fight to win, no matter what you have to use."
"Understood, ser," Lyonel replied, to which Marlon nodded as he patted Jon's shoulder.
"Lord Manderly has given you off for the day. Help the other two with clean-up."
"Understood, ser." Jon nodded, the three squires watching as Marlon walked away while Rondil approached them.
"Wonder why you have been allowed a day off considering that Lord Manderly is meeting with the Lady of House Dustin today," Lyonel spoke up and Jon looked just as intrigued as he scratched his chin.
"I wonder too, but I will not question Lord Manderly's order," he replied, drawing a snort from Lyonel as Rondil chuckled.
"Good. Never question what your lord is planning unless you're willing for him to believe that you are doubting his plans, and that never ends well."
"As the leading expert in angering lords in that manner, I agree wholeheartedly," Lyonel chimed in, making Jon raise an eyebrow before a thought came to mind.
"Speaking of you, I've been meaning to ask you a question, Lyonel, but I feel it's too personal."
"I do not mind. Ask away."
"Is your family name Beesbury because of what you just said? Did something happen between you and Lord Tyrell?"
"...I know I said I don't mind personal questions, but gods you went right for the jugular," Lyonel spoke with a chuckle, Rondil joining in as Jon gave an apologetic nod.
"Apologies. You do not have to answer if there are bad memories involved."
"There are bad memories, but I don't really care for them now," Lyonel responded, to which Jon paid attention. "Well, it's not exactly one of the many grand tales of the Reach and like my family likes to say, this flowery tale has more thorns than petals.
My father, ser Leo Tyrell, is a well-known supporter of Lord Mace Tyrell and House Tyrell, and I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. At a young age, I was a big supporter of Lord Tyrell, but as time went on, let's just say that the pretty image I had of him quickly withered the more I spent time with him."
Jon lifted a cuirass and handed it to Rondil, who began scrubbing it while Lyonel cleaned the practise swords without stopping his story. "Of course, a time came where, during a feast, I heard Lord Mace boast about being able to unhorse the great Barristan Selmy himself."
"And you laughed?" Rondil asked with a knowing smirk, making Jon blink as he looked to Lyonel who gave a chuckle.
"I didn't laugh," Lyonel clarified with a smirk. "I gave a light snort, but it was loud enough for Lord Mace to hear. Naturally, he was not very happy and ordered me to be punished, which left my father with two choices.
He could either have one of my fingers removed to teach me a permanent lesson or he could disown me. My mother begged him to do the latter, which he did. In addition, he wrote to my granduncle, Lord Warryn Beesbury, and he was the one who wrote to Ser Marlon to take me as his squire."
"And that is why your family name is Beesbury now?" Jon asked, frowning as Lyonel nodded with a bitter smile.
"Yes. My father could have left me scarred, but he made sure I would not lose my chance at a better future."
"By the old and the new, Beesbury, you are a madman and I respect that!" Jon stepped back and avoided the splashing hands of Rondil as he smacked Lyonel's back with a laugh, who grunted and groaned at the wet stain.
"Well, it's not like I planned to snort. It just did," Lyonel replied, rolling his eyes as he looked at Jon. "That's why I admire you, Snow."
"You do?"
"You were born with a name different than your lord father and yet, it did not stop you from becoming someone bigger than you were destined to be," he spoke with a chuckle. "While I needed my father's help to get here, you've proven yourself a capable fighter and leader, to the point that you are considered to be Lord Wyman's shadow wherever he goes."
"At least you're not a bastard," Jon replied, making Lyonel pause before he nodded.
"That is an upside I will gladly take. No offence meant, of course."
"None taken," Jon spoke with a smirk, shaking his head as Rondil threw an arm around Lyonel's shoulders.
"And here I thought you were a soft Southron like the rest," he spoke with a grin and Lyonel rolled his eyes as Jon chuckled.
"Yes, yes. I'm tough and forward. Now, can we please finish this off before ser Marlon decides to kill us for wasting time gossiping?"
"Too late, shitheads." Jon looked to the entrance of the training shack as did the other two, all three looking nervous at Marlon's happy smile. "Since you three idiots like to talk so much while working, why don't we add sixty laps in your armour around the courtyard first? Then, you can come back and finish this."
"..." With no words and a sigh, Jon cleaned his hands off, beginning his jog with the other two slowly trotting after him.
"This is your fault," Lyonel grumbled to Rondil, who frowned and scoffed.
"No, this is all you."
"It's both of you," Jon chimed in, smirking as they both glared at him.
"No, it's you for asking that question, Snow. Right, Beesbury?"
"Right, Blackmyre."
"Oh, so we can still talk, can we?! Make it a hundred laps!" Marlon's voice cut through their argument and with a chorus of sighs, the three picked up the pace.
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At the same time:
Lord Manderly's Solar, New Keep:
"I must say, I did not expect you of all people to come and want to talk to me, Lady Dustin," Wyman spoke with a soft smile, pouring wine into the tall woman's silver goblet.
The wrinkles around her mouth and dark eyes crinkled as she gave a polite smile, lifting the goblet to her lips and taking a sip. "I myself was not expecting to do so either, but I could not sit around with the discomforting word I received from my Lord Father."
"Word of the Ironborn?" The Lord asked, sighing slightly as the woman nodded. "It is unfortunate that we could not rid the Seven Kingdoms of that stain upon our name. The world would be a better place and the smallfolk would thank us for it."
"I cannot help but agree, Lord Manderly," Barbrey murmured, taking another sip as Wyman tapped his thick fingers against his desk.
"However, that brings a strange question to mind, and I hope you do not take offence, my lady."
"Ask away, Lord Manderly."
"Why come to me with this news? Why not our liege lord?" Wyman asked, not surprised to see the slight tightening of her jaw or how her grip on her goblet stiffened for a moment.
Ah, so she still cannot find it in herself to face Eddard Stark, not after the travesties she believed House Stark caused her families. Wyman would admit that the alleged actions of the late Brandon Stark taking the now Lady Dustin's maidenhead.
Along with that, Lord Stark did also return with her husband's remains after the Lord's battle against the Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy, which led to her becoming even more resentful to her liege lord's family.
If anything, the fact that she had not turned traitor yet was astonishing, but just like Wyman, Lady Barbrey Dustin was northern woman. She hated Eddard Stark with a roaring and blazing passion, but it was balanced by a fierce need to protect the North's people.
"You know exactly why I have come to you, Wyman," she replied, sitting her goblet down. "Our great Lord Stark has decided to be the King's shadow in the South, leaving us completely unprepared to the kraken stirring in the seas."
"I do believe however that Winterfell has a Stark lord that has taken over for Lord Stark."
"A young Stark lord," she added, making Wyman narrow his eyes as he stopped tapping his fingers.
"While I do agree that Lord Stark's abrupt promotion to Hand of the King has left us of the North woefully unprepared, that does not mean that we should doubt the skills of the young lord Robb. He has Maester Luwin, the Lady Stark and Ser Rodrik Cassel, people that have helped Lord Stark rule from Winterfell."
"And yet, I cannot help but wonder if this young Stark lord is prepared for what's to come," Barbrey replied, lifting her goblet to take a sip once more as Wyman rubbed his chins.
"You may have doubts, but I do not. Lord Stark has done right by the young man I have taken as my squire and he did not receive the personal education on lordship from the man himself."
"The bastard, you mean," Barbrey spoke, narrowing her eyes as Wyman nodded with a smile. "You speak of his skill, but surely it is not as good as you claim."
"Do I lie when I boast, Lady Dustin?" Wyman asked, to which Barbrey hid her grimace as best as she could. He was not wrong. While Wyman liked to boast and brag about his accomplishments, the man loathes having to lie to make himself look better.
"You do not, Lord Manderly. My apologies."
"You're forgiven, my lady." And with a single breath, his mood was lifted as he smiled broadly.
'I see. That's what Bolton meant,' she thought, staring at Wyman as he sipped happily at his wine. The joyful Wyman that was seen as craven and foolish, which hides the shrewd, calculating and cunning Lord Manderly hidden underneath.
Truly, only a madman can play like he does with a smile on his face.
"However, I do not like how you speak of the Lord Stark, I agree that the threat of the Ironborn is one we need to be concerned about," Wyman murmured, making Barbrey raise an eyebrow. "I will spare Wendel and some of my guard. I will also send with you livestock and grain to help."
"Thank you, Lord Manderly," Lady Dustin spoke as she bowed her head slightly, Wyman nodding back before the woman stood and left the room.
Running his finger along the rim of his glass, Wyman stared at the door for a long while before he smirked.
Well, he has noticed how bored Jon has been. Perhaps a change of scenery will do him good.
A/N: And we end it here!! Next chapter, I got a little more Ghost bonding, some time in the Wolf's Den and another little filler arc, mostly because I want to flesh out the characters from the North.
As always, read, enjoy, review and until the next one...
Ba-Bye~!!