Wolf of Númenor

Chapter 9: A voice like summers wind

After the melee was over and Jon being proclaimed the winner by the king, Jon left the field with Loras and several others. At first, she wasn't scared much, but once Jon started fighting real opponents, she became terrified, especially when he fought the red priest. The very thought of Jon getting hurt by the flaming sword made her stomach turn. Once the priest started lowering his sword towards Jon, she gasped, and so did Margaery and the other ladies. Margaery seemed as concerned as she was, maybe even more.

When the crowd started dispersing, they took their leave to but not to the keep, but to the Tyrell tent; lord Stark left due to the king wishing to speak with him. There they found Loras and Jon taking their armor off with Dacey and lord Beric with them. Arya and Sansa rushed to embrace their brother, and she honestly had to restrain herself from doing the same.

"You won; I knew you would win," said Arya.

"I told you I would," Jon replied with a smile.

"I was so scared when you fought the priest. Did he hurt you?" Sansa said.

"I'm fine, just a few bruises," Jon replied.

"There are more than just a few bruises," Loras said, concerned. "Look at his hands." Sansa took one of Jon's hands a looked at it, a cut stained with blood on it.

"Jon," Sansa said worriedly. Arya took the other hand and saw the same thing.

"It's just a scratch, nothing more."

Margaery stepped forward. "It's more than just a scratch Jon. What you did was incredibly dangerous and foolish." Jon lowered his gaze from her but, after a moment, pulled it back up.

"I will be fine, Margaery, believe me, all of you," Jon said as he looked around the room.

"You need a Maester to take a look at that." Mira finally said.

"I will once we are hack at the keep."

"Well, seeing that there is no point talking about your wounds, let me be the first to congratulate you on your victory," Elinor said.

"Thank you, Elinor," Jon said.

"Actually, you aren't the first; lady Dacey was the first," Loras said.

"Second then."

"Smalljon."

"Third?"

"That was me, my lady." said lord Beric.

"Fine, but I'm the first of this group to congratulate you."

"That you are my lady," Jon said with a small smile.

Before anyone could say anything else, a noise was heard behind them, and they all turned to see what it is. To their surprise, they saw the king enter the tent with lord Eddard, lord Mace and Garlan behind him with ser Jaime and Barristan beside him.

"Your grace." they all said and bowed to the king. The king approached Jon and started laughing. The two lords stayed behind.

"Ha-ha, I knew you would win, boy; you are just like your father."

"Thank you, your grace," Jon said as he bowed his head.

"It's been a long time since I saw a Stark fight, and gods, was it all worth it. When you knocked that Redwyne boy on his ass," the king continued to laugh. After he composed himself, the king continued, "Balon Swann, the Strongboar, and even Thoros, you have skill, boy."

"You flatter me, your grace."

"Real skill and balls, the way you caught that blade as it were nothing, gods I wish my son was like you."