Chapter 46 - Feast in the Great Pavilion.
Chapter 46 - Feast in the Great Pavilion.
[Chapter Size: 2500 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Harrenhal, 101 AC.
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The entire group had returned to the camp, while the place was already practically ready, all thanks to having hundreds of men around.
Jon noticed that Lyra was a little tired, while he, Rickon, and Lyra approached with Ghost by their side, heading toward the main tent that was almost fully assembled, where Lyarra and Alys were talking with Lord Stark.
They were still organizing a few things inside the main tent, since it would be the place where they would hold meetings with all the lords over the next few days in that very pavilion tent, for banquets, discussions, and conversations among themselves.
"Father, we're back," Rickon approached with a smile on his face, with Jon and Lyra coming behind him. The men who had stayed as guards carried everything they had bought behind them.
"Ah, you're here. Did you get into much trouble?" Lord Stark asked the guards.
"Father, how can you say something like that? It was pretty peaceful. I mean, Jon challenged a member of House Westerling to a duel worth 200 gold dragons in archery, but it was fun!" he said cheerfully.
Lord Stark, Alys, and Lyarra raised an eyebrow, looking at Jon with expressions that clearly asked whether that was true.
Jon felt a little embarrassed, but nodded. "Yes... They were provoking me after hearing that ballad they made about me and Ghost... Even though, honestly, I find it a little uncomfortable to listen to," Jon murmured.
"Are you sure it was because of the ballad?" Lyarra stepped forward and looked at Jon.
"..." He had to look away, wearing a somewhat smug smile.
"200 gold dragons... Tell me, what do you want to buy?" Lord Stark asked. Already knowing Jon's intentions.
Lyarra and Rickon looked somewhat surprised at Jon, since they hadn't realized it had been a strategy all along. But unable to escape the eyes of the elders, after all, Jon wasn't someone who sought conflicts just because someone provoked him publicly; it would take more than that.
"I liked some animals from a merchant." He said, and Lord Stark raised an eyebrow upon hearing the boy.
"Oh, really? I'd like to hear more about that." Lyarra said.
"Seriously? You want to spend money on those caged animals you spent forever staring at?" Rickon asked with a grimace.
"Really, Jon? You're going to buy them?" Lyarra jumped with excitement, in contrast to her brother. 1
"Why not? Did you see that white tiger? I'd like to have one of those too," he said, while feeling Ghost bump his head against him with his snout. "I'm not going to replace you," Jon immediately replied, turning his head toward the wolf and pushing him back in a form of competition.
"Well, if you believe that's possible, then I don't see why I shouldn't allow it... But don't go around challenging everyone who stands in front of you. You should be careful about what kind of house you're challenging, Jon."
"But it's just an archery game. He doubted Jon, and I had to intervene on behalf of House Stark, since he has that money with you if he needs to pay..." Rickon said.
Jon didn't wait for a response from Lord Stark, who merely nodded, knowing that the vanity of the southern lords was quite great and that there were situations where not even a Stark could offer complete protection.
In any case, he was only challenging a sum of 200 gold dragons. It wasn't anything extravagant that would make a lord want to kill him.
"All right. Go to our camp and put away your things. The tents are already set up," Lord Stark said.
They headed into the Stark camp, located right beside the pavilion tent as the main position, and the direwolf banners fluttered in the wind, signaling House Stark.
Jon went to his tent and stored all his belongings with the help of a guard. He couldn't help but look at his gold coins. He saw his toys packed away in wooden crates and the books he had bought. But he still needed to buy the sword that Lyra and Rickon wanted him to acquire to replace his old one.
At the same time, he also wanted to earn some money to make up for what Rickon had done by buying his books. He didn't want to owe anything. He certainly wouldn't accept that for free, so he would find a way to repay him.
They still had a few hours of sunlight left, so Jon took the opportunity to walk around the camp a bit, with Ghost following him. He wanted to get to know the place better.
Unlike the previously empty camp, the place was now completely filled. As he made his way toward the back, he greeted some people who recognized him thanks to Ghost.
When he reached the last tents, he stopped at a huge open space behind them, alongside some flowering trees. There would be guards there to prevent anyone from approaching, but it would also be a good place to have some fun.
Lyra would love that place.
He walked over to the trees and discovered a river, with the conversations of other men in the distance. From what he could tell, with his eyes fixed on the horizon, it was connected to the Campina camp.
Jon returned to the camp shortly afterward. Rickon was nowhere to be found, and knowing him well, he wouldn't be in the tent either. So he had probably accepted an invitation from another lord to accompany him in some activity.
Perhaps he had looked for him, but couldn't find him.
They were carrying several crates into the communal tent, along with chairs and enormous tables to spread throughout the place. The structure was gigantic, patched together with countless hides from hunted animals, creating a space covering dozens of square meters.
He spent time talking with Lyra until the evening began to darken. Torches started being lit all throughout the camp, while they finally finished organizing all the tents.
That was their first night there, at the Great Council, and they had organized the first grand gathering among the Northern lords, like a harvest feast, since they had done nothing but set up the camp that day.
The Northern lords gathered inside the great tent during the evening, while they and their families were seated in their respective places.
Jon wasn't surprised to see that he wouldn't be sitting at the main table. He sat with the Manderlys, while the main table was occupied by Lord Stark, Lady Stark, Rickon, Lyra, and the matriarch.
Not that Jon would admit that it mattered. He accepted his place willingly, near the main table alongside the Manderlys and simply ate in silence.
"My lords, we have come to Harrenhal for the Great Council, and each of us carries the name of our house and our ancestors. We represent the North."
Lord Stark raised his mug. "In the coming days, the Seven Kingdoms will be watching. So represent your houses with honor, show the strength of a united North, and remember that your actions will reflect not only upon yourselves, but upon all of us."
He gave a small smile.
"Now drink, talk, and enjoy the evening. Tomorrow we will continue the work that brought us all the way here."
"TO THE NORTH!" the lords shouted.
"My lord, are you going to participate in the tournament?" an Umber thundered from somewhere in the pavilion.
"Ah, of course! I intend to participate in the melee competition!" he thundered back, raising his mug. "And I'd like to know who else is with me!"
Several hands rose in unison.
"You can count on us!"
"Yes, we'll beat up the Southerners!"
"It'll be funny when they feel the weight of the North upon them!"
"We'll crush them like a winter ruins any harvest!"
The men quickly became excited.
Rickon immediately liked that. Jon was also quite surprised by the determination of the Northern lords. While drinking, they seemed rather wild when it came to the challenge.
Jon was also envious. He could see the same feeling in Rickon's eyes. Both of them wanted to participate in the tournament as well. How could they not? They were only children and couldn't take part in the joust or the melee...
"Is anyone going to participate in the joust, Father?" Rickon asked.
"Hard to say. But anyone who wants to participate is free to try. The North has no knights," he said with a shrug.
The Northern lords themselves did not seem very enthusiastic about the idea.
"Jon! You're going to participate in the archery tournament, right?" Yara murmured to Jon, who nodded.
"So it's true? You really challenged a lord to an archery competition?" Lord Manderly, Yara's father, asked with some interest as well.
"Just as you heard, Lord Manderly," Jon replied.
Lord Manderly let out a laugh. "Well, that's something I'd like to see."
"Are you really certain you're going to win?" Orys asked with a smug smile. "You're our age. Sorry, Jon, but you're ten years old. You still want to compete against an adult?"
"I could lose the competition, sure. But I also have a chance to beat a lord. I won't win the championship, but I'll definitely beat that Lord Westerling," Jon said confidently.
"All right, all right. If that's what you say," he replied with a laugh.
In any case, the Northern lords grew increasingly louder during dinner, and it didn't take long for the entire place to turn into the same thing that happened during the Harvest Feast.
The lords began holding drinking contests. Bards were called in to sing. The Umbers, in particular, moved actively between the tables, provoking others and even starting a few fights among themselves while others tried to separate them.
Jon ended up laughing, just like everyone else. It was a normal sight for them.
"Hey, want to try some?" Orys approached Jon with a mug of beer.
Jon simply shook his head. He certainly had no intention of drinking that.
"Come on, just a little, Jon. Don't be boring. We're celebrating. At a banquet in the South!" He continued insisting.
Jon grimaced before Yara pushed the mug toward him. "Here. Drink."
"You too?" Jon grimaced at her, while the girl shrugged.
"Come on, drink," she said insistently.
Jon stared at her for a few seconds before nodding. He could see the gleam in the twins' eyes. They clearly wanted to see him drink beer for the first time.
Jon brought the mug to his lips and took a sip, immediately tasting the bitterness.
He quickly set the mug down and began coughing. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him.
Lord Stark was talking with several lords at another table, while Lyarra and Alys exchanged a few words with Lyra resting tiredly in her mother's lap. But Jon couldn't help noticing the gleam in Rickon's eyes as he watched the scene, while Jon was practically choking from coughing. The twins beside him began laughing as if they were witnessing the funniest thing in the world.
"Hey, what are you two laughing at?" he said with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.
"Nothing much. Just someone pathetic who doesn't even know how to drink a beer," the boy said. He slapped Jon on the back.
Yara immediately jabbed her brother with her elbow.
"Ow! Stop that! Don't hit me just because I'm teasing the boy you like."
Jon choked again. He quickly tried to ignore it while noticing Yara shooting a murderous glare at her brother.
Whether he was only saying that to provoke his sister, knowing how much the two loved to annoy each other, or whether he was serious, it didn't matter.
Jon took another sip and started coughing again, though much less than on the first attempt, while doing his best not to make a face.
One way or another, he continued eating and drinking while all the sounds of the tent echoed through his ears.
Until he finally returned to his tent. He couldn't stay there much longer.
Ghost was lying down, waiting for him.
"Hello, buddy." Jon smiled and finally threw himself onto Ghost.
"Come on, take me to bed," Jon demanded. Ghost let out a small grunt, but did as Jon asked.
Even so, the wolf stood up with Jon sprawled across his back. Then he carried him to the edge of the bed and simply tossed him aside.
Jon landed spread out across the mattress and remained there until dawn.
When day finally broke, Jon woke up with a terrible headache.
He had only taken half a sip of beer, yet he felt awful pain.
'So this was what they called a hangover.'
He knew there was a stream near the camp, so the first thing he did was take Ghost and head there.
"Hey! Hey! A monster!" someone shouted as soon as he reached the river.
Jon looked toward a trio on the other side of the small stream, staring at Ghost.
"Easy, my lords. We're only here to enjoy the water," he explained, making an effort to speak because of the pounding headache and his sleepiness.
"What in the seven hells is that thing?" said the same man as before, the one in the middle.
They were three men bearing the sigil of House Tarly. After looking more closely, Jon realized that one of them was a nobleman, while the other two were guards.
"It's a direwolf, my lord." Jon approached the water and began splashing it onto his face.
"A direwolf... Ah, you're from that Northern camp, aren't you?" the man said, seeming to remember a few things. "My name is Kaio Tarly. And what would your name be, boy?"
"My name is Jon. Just Jon. I'm Lord Stark's ward," he said.
Lord Tarly seemed thoughtful, trying to remember something. "I don't recall hearing about you. But that beast is certainly memorable."
"Lord Tarly, they were talking about it yesterday, but you had been drinking a little too much," said one of the guards beside him.
"That's true. What a nuisance. I suppose I drank too much," Tarly began to laugh.
When Jon gave only his first name, it was obvious that he was someone from the common folk or, at the very least, someone without an important surname. Even so, he hadn't expected a nobleman from the Reach to seem so cheerful.
"Anyway, tell me: are you going to ride this wolf in the jousts?" Tarly asked with interest.
Jon immediately shook his head.
"I know, I know. I'm joking," he began to laugh loudly.
"But I'll be in the archery tournament," Jon said.
"Ah, the archery tournament? Well, it would be interesting to see a child trying to win it," he replied, looking at Jon. "Anyway, it was a pleasure, Just Jon. We'll be seeing each other around." He then continued on his way, leaving the stream behind.
Jon, despite his surprise, went back to washing his face before climbing onto Ghost and heading back to the camp.
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