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Stay Alive - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2024-05-14 15:00:37 +0000 UTCEddard Stark stood near the body of Theon Greyjoy. He had tried to treat the boy as a son, but it hadn't ever seemed to sink in. The 'secret' trips to the town nearby to for drinking and whores was among the many things he overlooked. He had been proud that Robb had never joined Theon on those trips. Honestly, he had been worried how the Ironborn would influence his oldest. Catelyn didn't like the boy, but her ire was focused on Jon instead of Theon.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, without the Ironborn there to prod Robb toward bad ideas and made it easier to breath. Catelyn would be with Robb to guide him and would have his focus without Jon there to distract her. Bran and Rickon would be staying in Winterfell as well. There would also be a Stark in Winterfell. The two youngest were planned to join in a few years once he was sure Kingslanding was stable.
Lord Stark let out a long, tired sigh. There were other things he needed to do to prepare for the trip. The body would be shipped back to be buried among its kin. A written account of what happened would also be sent along. Oddly enough, he didn't think the Ironborn would blame him. Dying in a bar fight was practically natural causes for them.
~§~
I had watched them carry the body into the keep and clean it up. It didn't stir a single sign of emotion. Did that make me a psychopath? I had ordered this murder. This was my doing. Still, nothing. I knew by now that this was real. These people were living, breathing, feeling beings. This was only the first in a long line of death that I would be on my head.
We were supposed to have left today, but Robert had been too drunk to travel. I had caught Lord Stark ordering the staff to severely water down the drinks tonight. As it turned out, the water in Winterfell was safe to drink. I had been choking down the excuse of wine since we got here. Alcohol was never something I enjoyed. There were plenty of other options if I wanted to get inebriated. I hated the taste and had to mix it with something to stand it to the point that I was mostly drinking whatever I had used to cover the flavor. I made sure to ask the provisioner to fill a bunch of containers for water. If I could prevent drinking the 'wine' for a few more days then I would be happy.
Now I just needed to figure out what to do with the extra day. Most of the things were packed for travel.
"Care for a spar, my prince?" Jon asked.
"Sure." I replied.
I was still sore from the day before, but it was clear I needed the practice. Joffrey had been 'trained' before I took charge. Whoever had been in charge of it was perfectly happy to allow the previous version of the prince to bully and hurt anyone. There were quite a few small-folk that had been beaten, maimed, or even killed in his 'training'. Actual skill was something the muscle memory seriously lacked.
We swapped over to clothes that were fine to get messy, then equipped themselves with weighted wooden swords. Robb was busy learning the details of being the acting Lord Stark while Ned was away. Arya and Sansa would be joining the trip to Kingslanding. Tyrion, thankfully, was heading back with us as well instead of heading to the wall. He had been able to get a few leads on the hot-water pipes that ran throughout the keep. It wasn't going to be an easy project, but reducing the chance of a plague, and helping with the smell, was worth the effort.
I had no idea what type of swords the training ones were modeled after. They looked to be the most popular kind. My guess would be a longsword. I could use the weapon with one or two hands comfortably. In fact, they were lighter than I had expected. Out of curiosity I had compared it to my steel sword to find that the wooden version was actually heavier. Apparently, it was to help build muscle as well as learn technique. Currently, I was a skinny sixteen-year-old so getting some bulk was fine with me. I was glad that the world leaned closer to the show than the books, otherwise Joffrey would have been twelve or thirteen at the oldest. Going through puberty again was not something I wanted to experience.
The little actual training Joffrey had with the sword mingled with my own knowledge did not make for even duels. He had mostly focused on hurting those even less skilled than he was, and my only hands-on experience came from when my friends and I would whack each other with sticks pretending to be knights, samurai, or Jedi. That meant I had a lot of ground to cover. However, it did give me a bit more to draw inspiration from than just the local trainers.
Today, I went with Jedi. Too bad I didn't get access to The Force once I got here. Granted, it was a completely different universe, but it still would have been awesome. A 'cheat skill' like an anime or manga would have been a nice boon too.
I copied Obi-Wan from the Clone Wars with the blade held in one hand, horizontally just about the same height as my eyes. There were plenty of adjustments from a cinematic style to an actual fight. Jon took a normal stance that I had seen the trainer here use. He held the wooden sword with both hands in front of him.
"What do you call that?" Jon took a look at my stance.
"If it works, I think I'll call it Kenobi." I shrugged. "Ready?"
Jon shifted his footing as a signal. His blade snapped out, easily smacking the knuckles on my outstretched hand. I winced and took a step back.
"I don't think that works." Jon chuckled.
I nodded as I shook my tingling hand. After a moment of thought I swapped my stance. I shifted to another starting position that I had seen in a galaxy far, far away. This time, I went with Qui-Gon inspiration that looked like I was holding a baseball bat rather than a blade. I still needed to figure out my own style. Thankfully, this wasn't cold steel practice.
This time, I moved first. I stepped in with a horizonal slice that Jon blocked. The impact sent tingles up my arms as he I followed through on the swing and guided his sword to the side. I lunged forward leading with my shoulder. Jon met it with his own. It would have been a great move if he didn't outweigh me by at least twenty pounds. He shifted a little Instead of knocking him back a step as I wanted. The only reason I didn't fall was that my center of balance was lower than his. I could feel him start to move and pushed my knee into the back of his. Jon's eyes widened as his own legs betrayed him. I spun away and smacked along his shoulders.
I paused. There was no way that would work in an actual swordfight. This world must have a minor 'rule of cool' since it was based on the TV. Panache was more important than efficiency, up to a point. I couldn't use the Kenobi inspired style because it was too flashy. Qui-Gon was close enough for me to look like it fit the world. It could possibly work for someone else. I could imagine Arya using it without questioning it too much.
"Well done." Jon rolled his shoulders as he stood.
"Thanks." I waited for him to be ready.
I kept to the same style to see if this would work. This exchange went on longer than the first. That alone let me know that my theory was correct. I had knocked him down for the first time. If this was an actual show then I would go through a sudden jump in skill. This needed some further exploring. Preferably not during a fight.
Fuck, did that mean I was being watched?
The moment of hesitation was my downfall. Jon swept me onto the flat of my back the next time our blades met. I got to my feet and changed my stance once more. This time, we both moved at the same time. Our blades met high, low, and with plenty of swirling motion. I kept to controlled movement that was closer Lord of the Rings than Star Wars.
My lingering aches and pains faded to the background. This required more experimentation. Our spar continued. I mentally swapped through the various cinematic sword fights I could think of. Anything too flashy was quickly met with a harsh whack from Jon. I couldn't block behind my back or spin excessively, but a quick turn here and there worked just fine. As did an inverted grip. My performance began to improve by leaps and bounds as I realized that if I focused more on looking good rather than aiming for 'realistic' fighting.
"Prince Joffrey, Jon." Sansa called from nearby. "Are you hungry?"
We stepped back from each other. The exhaustion set in once the spar was over. I settled on Geralt. It was a slowing style that required a lot of agility with a focus on tight, brutal movement with the occasional spin to look cool. It worked with my build, since I didn't have an excess of strength, and the setting rather well.
"You've been holding back on me?" Jon chuckled.
"No." I laughed. "I'm trying to find my style. I've been approaching this the wrong way."
"I'd say you found the right one." Jon offered to take the training sword.
I handed it to him, and we stowed the rest of the gear. Thankfully, I was walking away with a few sore patches rather than my entire body. The daily physical activity was already doing wonders. Another sign that there was a slight cinematic edge to this world. Grim-dark fantasy was still fantasy. This needed to be tested on other aspects than just combat. All I needed to do was figure out how to do that.
The cracks in the tone were starting to show at lunch. Everyone was ready to leave, but Robert had yet again screwed things up. Lord Stark decided that if the king was in the same state tomorrow that he'd toss the man in a wagon with some wine to prevent further delays.
I paused mid-way through my meal when I realized how quiet it was. Usually, there was a little conversation. I didn't expect Theon's death to cause such an impact.
"Arya." I turned to the girl.
She ignored me but made sure I knew she was ignoring me.
"What's wrong?" I asked Sansa.
"You ignored her out on the training yard." Sansa gave her little sister a sympathetic look.
"I did?" My brow scrunched in confusion.
"She asked you a few times to join." Sansa kept her voice low. "You didn't say anything."
"Thank you." I patted Sansa's hand and earned a bright blush. "Arya."
She looked at me from the corner of her eye.
"I apologize." I inclined my head just a touch. "I was too focused on the fight. We can spar after lunch?"
She gave a dramatic huff and didn't answer. It was fun to see her acting like a kid. In fact, it was a lot more enjoyable to be younger than I had expected.
"That's a shame." Jon shrugged. "I won't be able to give you my gift then."
"A gift?" Arya immediately perked up.
"I thought I was leaving for the Wall." Jon replied. "I made sure to get presents."
"Did you get me one too?" Sansa asked excitedly.
Even Robb perked up a little He had taken the death of Theon the worst. No one else seemed all that bothered. It was weird to see people just move on from someone dying. Granted, no one really liked the Ironborn, but I still expected more of a reaction.
"I may have." Jon gave a small smile.
That was another change I had noticed. Jon smiled quite a lot more since he accepted my deal. It helped that he had a better room, and the royal retinue treated him like a person. Every bile-filled glare Lady Stark sent his way only further enforced my choice to have her killed.
I stole a quick look at Tyrion. He had finally returned to join the meals after I set some servants after his care. It helped that I had requested Nan to take charge. She was the older woman who was the power the one truly in charge of Winterfell. Not politically, but for daily life. Even Lord Stark didn't argue with her orders most of the time. She bowed to his authority when he spoke when it did happen.
"Isn't that right, nephew?" Tyrion said.
The sound of my name drew me out of my thoughts.
"I agree to nothing until I know what the conversation is." I replied quickly.
Tyrion laughed.
"We noticed that you drifted off." Jon clarified.
"You've been doing that a lot lately." Cersei sounded genuinely concerned.
"I have had a lot to think about lately, mother." I gave her a gentle smile to ease her worries.
After lunch we returned to the sparring yard. Jon slipped away to retrieve his gifts. Arya and Sansa were too busy vibrating in anticipation to do more than wait. That left me with Robb and the younger siblings. Tommen and Bran had become quite the duo. The two-year gap in their ages between them didn't seem to matter. Myrcella had latched onto Sansa once she was able. It was adorable to see them together. Sansa doted on her like the little sister she always wanted. Arya would have been jealous if I wasn't doing the same to her. I invited her to our sparring sessions, made sure she was heard, and accepted her for what she was instead of trying to force her to be a lady.
"Would you like a spar?" I asked Robb.
"Sure." He let out a sigh.
"I'm sorry about your friend." I said.
"Really?" Robb tamped down the glare he wanted to give.
"I didn't like him, but you did." I offered him a training sword. "It's obvious that his death hurt you. I'm not going to demand you ignore that pain."
He nodded to acknowledge my words but didn't speak. Instead, he got into a ready position. I shifted into my own with a focus on moving like Henry Cavill as Geralt. Things went a lot better for me with that in the front of my mind. Swapping to an inverted grip then back as needed to complete a couple of spins. There were plenty of signs that I needed to continue to train. I was moving through the forms easier, but certain things I just didn't have the speed or strength to pull off. Still, it was just unorthodox to keep Robb off balance. A few rounds told me two things for certain. One, Jon was a better swordsman than Robb. Two, I needed to gain some muscle.
Our spar was interrupted by Sansa and Arya practically squealing with joy. Jon had returned with their gifts. Robb and I stepped back to signal the spar was over. I watched as Arya held Needle high to stare at it in wonder. Her brow scrunched as Jon offered her a stick as well. I couldn't hear them from this distance, but Jon motioned to the rack of practice swords which answered that question. Arya jumped at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. Luckily, her sword was in a sheath.
Sansa pulled him into a fierce, but more dignified hug. I couldn't see what he had given her other than a flash of lavender. Jon headed over to us once the two girls let him go. Arya followed closely behind with her new practice sword.
"I didn't forget about you." Jon offered Robb a wrapped parcel.
Robb took it was a solid nod. The small parcel was covered in a piece of fabric and tied with a piece of twine. Robb untied the knot to expose the gift: a silver pendant carved into the shape of a wolf-head. The two shared a nod that worked in place of a bro-hug in this world. Public and private shows of affection were frowned upon. Any intimacy was done behind closed doors.
"Are you ready?" Arya hopped beside me.
She held up her training sword. It looked like a wooden dowel with some extra weight and a cross-guard.
"Gladly." I smiled at her.
Arya had started her dance lessons yet. It was mostly for fun. She used the same style as Robb and Jon which didn't fit her at all. I couldn't wait to see what she would become once she started her training. Hopefully, she'd get more than a month or two this time around.
~§~
The next day saw us finally leave for Kingslanding along with a contingent that was also heading to the Wall. Robert had to be tossed in a wagon halfway through the first day. Jon, Arya, and I continued our sparring sessions when we stopped each night. I could finally see some real progress in my physical condition. The daily training had added some muscle and kept me limber after riding on a horse all day.
I had forgotten about the horrible people that 'guarded' the river crossing until we had to stop for the night. It was a requirement that there was a feast when encountering the Freys. They loved to shove the fact that they controlled the crossing. Either way, once I got back to Kingslanding I was going to start my own information network complete with blades in the dark. Unfortunately, I didn't think subtly would work to solve this problem. I would have to lead an attack, and possible siege, against this place after I was king and had intel.
Apparently, we made good time getting back to the city. I was going out of my mind with boredom after the first week. To help keep myself sane I started a short workout program as camp was packed in the morning that consisted of running laps around the wagons, push-ups, and squats. I made a mental note that I should talk to someone when we arrived.
We smelled Kingslanding before we saw it. I definitely needed to address that sooner rather than later.
"Welcome to Kingslanding." I offered to Sansa, Arya, and Jon. "You'll get used to the smell."
