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Riding with his back straight and his head held high, Jon Stark led what was perhaps the longest procession of riders and carriages he had ever seen through Winter Town and towards the East Gate of Winterfell. Riding next to him was an assortment of highborn's that Jon had never, even in his wildest dreams, thought he would ride beside let alone lead. Princess Arianne of House Martell rode to his immediate right, the beauty of the desert riding so close that they were almost touching. A fact that had placed Jon on edge for almost the entirety of their journey together, though not in a bad way. Next to her was her uncle, the Red Viper of Dorne Prince Oberyn Martell while his eldest daughter, Obara Sand, rode just behind him. The prince's other daughters and paramour were with them as well, though instead of riding for the last leg they had all decided to ride in one of the few carriages House Manderly had lent them after their arrival to White Harbor.
Riding on Jon's left, opposite of the Martells, was Ser Garlan Tyrell, along with his squire Dickon Tarly. If Jon were to be asked to define a southern 'knight' he would tell the one who asked to simply look towards Ser Garlan, or Garlan the Gallant as he heard many of those amongst House Tyrell's retinue refer to the man. He was the exact type of knight that was always the hero in Sansa's stories that she liked to listen too. And his squire…well Jon honestly couldn't believe that the young man was Sam's brother at first. The two were just so…different from one another. Honestly, Jon didn't even realize that two brothers could be so different. But while Ser Garlan and Dickon rode at the front with Jon and the Martells, the rest of House Tyrell rode back in a large decorative carriage that easily looked like it could hold a dozen people comfortably.
"I've heard many a story about the majesty of Winterfell," Princess Arianne said from beside him, her eyes traveling up the tall dual walls that protected Winterfell from the elements and any potential enemies as their horses began making their way up the wooden bridge that connected the outer wall to the inner wall. "But now actually laying eyes on it, the stories do not do your home any justice Jon. Your ancestor was quite the man of vision and deed to create such a structure like this. And here I was thinking the Sunspear was impressive. Winterfell is indeed something else entirely."
Jon felt no small amount of pride at hearing Arianne's words. Sunspear was indeed a wonder to behold. And he was sure that Arianne had no doubt spent time in Essos as well, given that her mother was from the Free City of Norvos. So, to have her compliment his home so was no small thing.
"Indeed it is," Ser Garlan added, as the knight edged his horse closer to Jon. "You Northerners never do anything halfway, that is for sure. I can see now why it is said that Winterfell has never fallen to an invading force. Attacking this place would be a nightmare, even without the weather to consider. Not that I'm considering it, of course. Just an observation."
Glancing towards Garlan, Jon could do little more than shake his head. It was more than obvious, even to him, that the Tyrells were desperate to gain his, or rather House Stark's, approval. Ever since he joined them on the King's Road, all the family members had been beyond polite and courteous with him. Well, all except Lady Olenna Tyrell of course. But after their first quick meeting, Jon quickly learned not to take offense at what the old woman said. Hells, if anything, her demeanor and no-nonsense approach would probably be a better approach to gaining the approval of the North rather than all the flowery words and courtesy of the south.
Passing through the various buildings that made up the interior of Winterfell, Jon felt his heart lift as the main yard before the great hall came into view. His entire family and their wolves had all assembled before the steps of the hall to welcome him and their guests. And standing right next to his family was Master Nox and Lady Nyra while just next to them stood the few Lannister guests that were still at Winterfell. Urging his horse to a trot, Jon led the procession into the yard before pulling his horse to a stop halfway across the yard. Climbing down from his saddle, Jon immediately made his way over to Arianne and offered her his hand while the various carriages and riders began spreading out through the large yard. Arianne graced him with a smile and took the offered hand before sliding perfectly from her saddle and landing with barely a sound. Though even after dismounting from her horse, Arianne refused to let go of his arm, leaving him with no choice but to walk hand in hand with the Princess of Dorne towards his family as Prince Oberyn retrieved his paramour and his daughters from the carriage they'd been riding in.
He could see his father's eyes bounce off where their hands were joined together, but other than that his father kept his face completely passive. His brother Robb however…he was sporting a grin that promised no small amount of teasing to be heading Jon's way soon. Sansa was smiling brightly while both Arya and Bran rolled their eyes.
"Father," Jon greeted his father as they neared. "I introduce to you Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne, along with her uncle Prince Oberyn Martell and his daughters and paramour Lady Ellaria Sand."
His father met the eye of each Martell before bowing his head in greeting. "Princess Arianne. Prince Oberyn. Ladies. Welcome to Winterfell, the hospitality of the North, and that of House Stark, is yours for as long as you wish to stay within our walls."
Finally letting go of his arm, Arianne stepped forward and gave his father a slight curtsey. "We thank you for your hospitality Lord Stark. And we shall do our upmost to not be a burden upon you and yours during our stay in the North. And for the sake of tradition more than anything else, we would ask for bread and salt to honor the laws of gods and men."
His father nodded and ushered a few servants forward who were carrying trays loaded with bread and small bowls of salt. One by one, each member of House Martell came forward and partook of the bread and salt before moving off to the side so that the next group could be introduced.
Jon had to admit, the Tyrell's could make their presence known when they wanted to. Lord Willias was dressed in a fine heavy doublet while Ser Garlan's armor was so finely polished it was shining despite the sun being blocked out by the clouds. And while Jon would always say that Arianne was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure of meeting, Lady Margaery was indeed a very beautiful lady as well.
"Father, I present to you the members of House Tyrell," Jon began to introduce the newcomers, only to be cut off by the matriarch of House Tyrell.
"We can speak for ourselves, lad," Lady Olenna scoffed, stepping forward until she and his father were nearly arm's length away from one another. "I must say, Lord Stark, you are much more impressive in person than my oaf of a son has said."
"Grandmother!" Lady Margaery gasped, stepping forward and giving an apologetic look towards his father. "We are guests. We should no—!"
"Oh, don't be a spoilsport, girl," Lady Olenna huffed. "This is my one chance to ignore all that pomp and circumstance in the south and just speak plainly. One of the many things I admire about your Northern lot, you speak your mind and don't bother getting weighed down with all that courtly horse shit."
"Lady Olenna," his father said, though Jon honestly couldn't tell if his father was amused or annoyed by the old woman. Probably both. "Your reputation proceeds you. And I see that all that they say about you is true too."
"Not all," Olenna sighed, shaking her head. "As much as I would like to, these old bones wouldn't be able to handle taking several young men to my bed each and every night. Now, let's get this over with. This is my grandson and future Lord of Highgarden, Willias. My second grandson, Ser Garlan, and my only granddaughter, Margaery. And I see that despite recent events, may the gods curse those traitors and the Maesters to the worst of the hells, you have quite the impressive lot as well."
Frowning, Jon came to the realization of just what the old woman's game was now that he had the chance to sit back and watch. Her blunt mannerisms were merely a means to throw her opponents off guard and give her an advantage. It was certainly a different approach than what he'd seen during his admittedly brief time within the court down in King's Landing.
"Lord Willias, Ser Garlan, Lady Margaery. Welcome to Winterfell," his father responded, taking his time in greeting each one. Which Jon realized was his father's counter to what Lady Olenna was trying to do. She was trying to put everyone off guard, so his father was taking his time and allowing everyone to catch up to try and erase whatever edge the matriarch of House Tyrell was gaining. "This is my son and heir, Robb. And you've already met my son Jon on the King's Road. These are my daughters, Sansa and Arya. And my – my youngest son, Bran."
The two families politely greeted one another, and Jon could see a slight frown forming on Lady Olenna's face as her ploy to put his father on the back foot obviously failed. Strangely enough though, even though she was frowning, Jon could sense a feeling of almost satisfaction and excitement coursing through the old woman as House Stark and House Tyrell finished greeting one another. 'Is she excited because father didn't fall for her game?'
"Well, now that all of that is out of the way there is someone else I've been looking forward to meeting," Lady Olenna said, turning towards Master Nox and Lady Nyra. "Lord Nox, Lady Nox. I've been looking forward to this meeting for some time. There is something to be said about a self-made woman who rose through the ranks and became the Stewardess of Winterfell by her own merits. And you, sorcerer," Olenna paused, her gaze going from his master's head to his boots and then back. "You are not what I expected. Last word I had of you swore that you were taller and broader than the Mountain-Who-Rides and that you were blessed with a face that could make even the Maiden herself swoon. But all I see is a man. A comely man, but a man nonetheless."
"The day is still young, Lady Olenna. There's still more than enough time for me to exceed that which you have heard." Master Nox replied without hesitation before moving his attention to Willias. "Tell me, young man. That limp of yours, how long have you had it?"
Lord Willias blinked, then shot a look towards Prince Oberyn. Jon had heard the story of how Lord Willias had been made lame from both Arianne and Prince Oberyn the first night after meeting up with them. It happened during a tourney, one of the first—and unfortunately the last—tournies for Willias. He'd drawn up against Oberyn and in a bout of ill luck ended up with a broken leg as the result. Many wanted to claim that Oberyn caused the injury intentionally, but the Prince of Dorne told him that was not the case. And that even despite injuring the lad, the two had become something of friends over the years.
"Some years, Lord Sorcerer," Willias answered Lord Nox. "I've grown accustomed to it."
His Master smiled, and Jon could immediately see where his Master was going to go with this. 'It will go a long way to garnering some favor with the Wardens of the South and rulers of the Reach. And as good as the North has become at growing our own food, it's still the summer years. Come winter, we will more than likely need the food from the Reach to feed everyone.'
"Well, it would be a shame if I am unable to live up to the image the famous Lady Tyrell has crafted of me, no?" his Master asked rhetorically. "I'll swing by after you lot have settle into your rooms and look at your leg. At worst, I'll be able to minimize the pain you feel. At best, you'll be able to burn that cane by nightfall."
Every member, even Lady Olenna, stared dumbly at his Master while more than a few of those that were watching began muttering to one another. "I – I would be eternally grateful to you, Lord Nox, if you would be able to do anything to help relieve me of this burden." Lord Willias stated with more than a touch of excitement in his voice.
Jon noted that there were more than a few disbelieving looks among the Tyrells and even amongst those who'd arrived with the Martells. 'They'll see,' Jon thought with a smirk. 'Master doesn't 'try'. He does. It's the first lesson he taught us when we began our training underneath him. And soon everyone else will learn just what that means.'
"Then Lord Nox will attend to you after you are settled," his father said with a note of finality. "Tonight, we shall have a feast to properly welcome all of you to the North. Until then, I invite you all to adjourn to your rooms and rest from your travels."
Walking calmly down the corridors of Winterfell with Sansa and Talisa flanking him on either side and Osha taking up the rear behind them, Nox ignored the Tyrell guards that'd taken up position near the beginning of the guest wing that the Tyrell family had claimed as their own for the duration of their stay. Wisely, the guards didn't make a move to try and stop any of them. Not that they could have even if they wanted to. But as much as he'd like to think that it was his reputation in this land that stilled the guards, he knew that their inaction came more from the fact that they were visitors to Winterfell. And that the Tyrells had informed them that they were expected and were not to be held up.
Reaching the sitting room that'd been set aside for the Tyrells' personal use, Nox gave the door two sharp knocks before pushing the door open and walking inside. He could sense through the Force that all four of the Tyrell family members were present, as well as the two rather large bodyguards that served the dowager of House Tyrell, Olenna Tyrell. Or the Queen of Thorns pending on who you spoke to. It was the elderly matriarch of the family that overcame her surprise at their sudden appearance first. "Well, I see power has gone straight to your head. But at least you have the decency to knock."
Nox didn't back down, nor did he stop walking into the room. "You knew that we were coming, and you are in Winterfell. Were you expecting someone else?" Nox asked as he focused in on the eldest of the Tyrell children. "Well, let's get on with this. Sansa, turn around for a moment. Willias, off with your pants and lay down on the table over there."
Immediately, all four of the Tyrell's plus Sansa were put on the back foot. The only ones who were not taken aback were the two hulking guards and Talisa. "W–What?" Willias stammered, his attention flickering towards Sansa, who blushed when she noticed the heir of Highgarden was looking at her. "W–Why?"
"Because it's a lot easier to examine something directly rather than having to guess through the obstruction of clothes," Nox answered as if he were lecturing a child. "Sansa will turn her back. And as for the rest of us, you don't have anything we all haven't already seen…so to speak on my part, I guess. Now. Drop your pants and get up on the table. We don't have all day."
He could sense the hesitancy coming from Willias, which didn't dissipate even after both Sansa and Margaery had turned their backs to him like good proper ladies. Letting out a breath, Willias got to work quickly undoing the laces of his pants and dropping them before laying down on the table in the room with his brother Garlan's help. Once he was down, Garlan then grabbed a sheet and used it to cover almost all of his brother's lower body save for the leg that was injured.
"You can turn around now, Sansa," Nox said, taking a step forward and motioning for the two young girls to join him. "Talisa, you go first. Then Sansa. Don't say anything until both of you have a chance to examine him however you deem fit."
Talisa, ever the professional healer, didn't hesitate as she stepped up and began to carefully examine the man's leg with her hands. Once she reached his thigh, she slowed her prodding and focused on a specific area near the hip. Her examination lasted for only a minute or so, but that was apparently all she needed as she wordlessly stepped back and motioned for Sansa to step up next to her and take her turn examining the young man. Sansa's complexion had gone from its normal pale to a deep red as she held her hand out a few inches from touching Willias's leg. Willias tried to give her a reassuring look, but Nox could only sigh as he noticed Sansa's trembling hand and her clearly distracted mind. Apparently, he needed to work with her on concentration.
"You won't be able to concentrate while your thoughts are so far away from what you are trying to do, Sansa," Nox chided the young girl. "Put all thoughts outside of what you are trying to do out of your mind. Focus on your task and your task alone. Or you will fail. And I'll have you sparring with Arya until you can't sit down right for a month."
Sansa flinched at the threat of having to spar with her sister. Taking a moment to compose herself, Nox could sense her nervousness die down slightly as she held out her hand once more. This time, he could sense the whispers of the Force leaking out of her hand and into Willias's leg. Which apparently was noticeable by Willias as well as the young man blinked, shivered, and stared down at where Sansa's hand hovered over his flesh. "What do you sense, Sansa?"
The young Stark frown as her hand vibrated for a moment before she pulled it away from Willias. "His leg is…It's healed but there is something not right with the way that it healed."
Nodding, Nox turned his attention to Talisa, who proceeded to add in her analysis as well. "That is what I felt as well. It seems that the bone in his leg was broken near his hip and wasn't set entirely properly and therefore healed over incorrectly. Which is causing your limp and your pain. In this case, the best course of action would be to rebreak the bone and set it properly. However, given the time that has passed and the location of the break…there is a chance that we could do far more damage than good by rebreaking the bone."
A slow, clearly sarcastic clapping came from the edges of the room. "Congratulations, sorcerer," the Queen of Thorns chided them. "You three have deduced what any even slightly learned individual in the arts of healing could tell us. Now, do you have anything more impressive to show or tell us? Or are you just wasting our time telling us that which we already know?"
"Grandmother!" Margaery gasped while Nox merely turned and fixed the elderly Tyrell in his Force sight.
To her credit, the old woman did little more than shiver slightly under the weight of his gaze. "I assure you, Lady Tyrell. I have many, many more 'tricks' up my sleeve. And you would be wise to not wish me to show you most of them. Now be quiet for once. And witness a mere glimpse of what the Force is capable of."
Turning his attention off the old woman, Nox made his way towards the table and stood beside Sansa staring down at Willias. "We're going to break your leg and reset it Willias," Nox explained to the heir of Highgarden, causing a jolt of fear to spread throughout the room. "As Talisa said, there is a risk to this. Bone marrow could escape and enter your blood stream and make it to your heart, causing a heart attack. Sansa and I, working in tandem, are going to minimalize this risk using the Force. I'm going to break your leg and reset it and then Sansa will immediately heal the damage done. Any questions before we start?" Willias made to interject, but Nox didn't let him and continued while holding his hand just above the man's forehead. "No? Good. Now, you're not going to want to be awake for this as it's going to hurt like hell. So, sleep."
It took more effort than Nox had anticipated, but within the span of a heartbeat Willias went from wide awake to having his eyes roll into the back of his head and collapsing lifelessly onto the surface of the table.
"What did you do?" the second son, Garlan Nox believed his name was, demanded. His essence screaming his need to reach for his sword to try and protect his brother.
"Nothing nefarious," Nox shrugged. "I merely used the Force to overload his mind and shut it down momentarily. This way we can work on him without him having to suffer through the pain that we're about to cause. And once we're done, I can revive him easily, or you can wait until he wakes on his own in a few hours. Now, step back and let us work."
He could sense that the young man wanted to say or perhaps do more, but a subtle gesture from Olenna behind him brought that to an end. Apparently, the old woman wanted to see just what they were capable of.
"Sansa," Nox said, snapping the girl to attention at his side. "Get ready and work with me. Don't heal him until after you feel that I've set the bone properly. Heal him too soon, and we're right back at the start and we'll have to break the bone again."
Beside him, Sansa swallowed nervously. "I'm ready, Lord Nox."
Giving her one last look, Nox turned his attention fully to Willias as he held his hand directly above where the bone had healed over incorrectly. Using a variation of a Force Crush, Nox clenched his fist and broke the femur near the hip joint. A loud snap sounded as the bone broke and, despite being unconscious, Willias's entire body flinch violently, causing Talisa and Garlan to both reach out and hold the unconscious man down. Ignoring the twitching body, Nox concentrated on using the Force to realign the bone. Not an easy task as it was akin to doing a puzzle in the dark.
"Sansa. Now." Nox ordered the moment he felt that the bone was correctly realigned.
Sansa didn't hesitate as she immediately began wrapping the Force around the bone Nox was holding in place as if she were bandaging a wound. The young girl was completely focused on the task at hand as small beads of sweat began forming on her brow and her hand began to shake. Pulling back on his own power, Nox felt whatever Sansa was doing settling in on the bone and immediately heal the break he'd created. Tilting his head, Nox watched what she was doing through the Force. Usually, it took one years upon years to learn how to properly use Force healing, and even then most could not accomplish the task. And yet, here was this young Stark girl from a backwater planet who was doing a Force technique at the age of twelve that most Force practitioners several times her age and experience couldn't hope to duplicate.
"There," Sansa breathed, rocking back on her heels, and almost falling over if not for the presence of her shadow Osha, who caught the young girl around the shoulders and helped her remain upright. "Thank you, Osha… That… That was…"
"Quite a bit different than the first time when you healed my wife," Nox finished for her as he used the Force once more to examine the leg she'd just healed and finding no faults at all. "You didn't have the adrenaline rush this time around. But you did remarkably well, Sansa."
Sansa beamed with pride as she allowed Osha to guide her over to one of the few chairs in the room. As Sansa moved away, her spot was immediately claimed by the young Margaery. "Is he…? Will he be alright?" The young flower of Highgarden asked, her voice a mixture of concern, excitement, and awe.
"Let's see for ourselves," Nox said, pressing his index finger to the center of Willias's forehead. "Wake up."
Upon his command, Willias's eyes fluttered opened. "Wh–What? What just…?"
"I placed you into a temporary deep sleep so that Sansa and I could fix your leg," Nox answered the question the young man wasn't able to properly form.
Blinking, Willias took a moment to seemingly process what he'd just said. His eyes widened in realization once he had, the young man sat up and began tentatively poking at his hip and leg. "There…There's no pain," Willias said with no small amount of shock and awe in his voice. "There's…There's no pain."
"Nor should there be," Nox answered, "Sansa, despite her age, is incredibly powerful in the art of healing. Even amongst my people she would be considered a prodigy and highly sought after. Now get down and put some weight on it."
With the aid of his brother and sister, Willias slowly lowered his feet to the floor and rose from the table. His face was set in an expression of fear as he was obviously bracing for the worst. But once he had both feet on the ground and was standing to his full height, the look of fear and apprehension disappeared, replaced with a look of shock. "By the gods," Willias breathed, stomping his formerly injured leg against the floor, and smiling as there was obviously no pain in the action. "There's… There's no pain. No clicking. No…nothing. Gods, it's been so long I've forgotten just what this feels like to walk without at least a dull ache in my bones."
Margaery and Garlan were both beaming at their brother as they watched him take a small walk around the room unaided. Though when he tried to do a little jump, he stumbled on the landing, making them race forward to catch him. "I'm alright," Willias said, waving them both off, his smile still etched on his face.
"I would advise that you avoid strenuous activity for some time yet, Lord Willias," Talisa stated as she stepped up to him, her eyes traveling up and down his person. "You haven't used the full strength of your leg in some years, therefore the muscles in your leg have gone soft. You'll have to start slow and build up the muscles in your leg once more before you try more strenuous activities."
Willias nodded along as Talisa proceeded to outline what was basically a physical training regime for the heir of Highgarden. As she did so, Nox took careful note of the one individual who, while happy with the way things had turned out, was not paying attention to either Willias or Talisa. The Queen of Thorns attention was focused solely on young Sansa, her face impassive, but her emotions anything but. And there was now no doubt in Nox's mind as to the full intentions of the Tyrells while they were in Winterfell. 'They mean to try and betroth Sansa to Willias. A very shrewd play,' he thought, his sight passing over Margaery for a moment. 'They strengthen their House and gain blood ties to House Stark, which will be enough to quell any dissent there might be in the Reach for fear of bringing the wolves down upon them. And with the betrothal of Sansa to another, they remove their own daughter's primary competition for the position of the next queen of Westeros. The Queen of Thorns certainly does appear to live up to her reputation as an astute player of the game. Unfortunately for her, she has never played against the likes of me. And she has yet to realize the trap that she is walking right into. The only question that remains is when the right time will be to pluck the roses' ambition and bring them back to ground.'
While his Master and sister were busy with the Tyrells, Jon was preoccupied as well leading Arianne and her cousins up through the Sorcerer's Tower and showing them everything he could think of to show them. He'd expected Prince Oberyn and his paramour to join them as well, but the moment everyone started to disperse from the courtyard the two had all but vanished. When he inquired about their disappearance to Arianne, the Princess of Dorne merely smiled at him and calmly informed him that the two were more than likely on their way back to Winter Town to visit the brothel to relieve the stress of traveling such a long distance.
The comment took Jon aback, though not because of the action itself but rather because of the pointed way Arianne had said it. Almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world for one's uncle and lover to frequently seek out the company of others. Within his family, the only one he knew to frequent the brothel was Theon, who constantly liked to brag about his conquests. The idea of his father, Robb, or even Uncle Benjen visiting the brothel with frequency… He would still love them all the same. But he just couldn't wrap his mind around it. Not that he was given much time to think about it, as Arianne had quickly taken his arm and all but demanded that he personally show her the famed 'Sorcerer's Tower'. And, as it wouldn't be proper for a Lady let alone a Princess to go unaccompanied, her three cousins Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene joined them in their walk.
He started with the living quarters and workshops that were near the base of the tower. Neither of which seemed to interest the Princess all that much, though he did notice a gleam in the eyes of the one with blond hair, Tyene he believed her name was, when he showed them the workshop that his Master had taken to calling his 'laboratory'. As they ascended the tower, he could feel the slightest bits of excitement starting to come off Arianne as her grip on his arm became slightly tighter with each level they rose.
Coming to one of the highest rooms in the tower, Jon paused as he was unsure whether it would be alright for him to bring the Princess into this room as normally, outside of Master Nox's acolytes, one needed permission from either Jon's father or Master to enter the Sorcerer's private library. 'Master did say to show them everything…I guess that is permission enough.' Deciding to push forward, Jon opened the door and led Arianne into the library. "This is Master Nox's private library," he informed the group, drawing sharp looks from three of the four women, Obara he'd come to realize had little care for much outside of martial matters. "Most of what you'll find in here are the tomes that were collected from Valyria. But he has quite a few more from our brief stays in Braavos and Volantis."
"Incredible," Arianne breathed, all but dragging him into the library before dropping his arm and making her way between the shelves. Pausing, she pulled a book seemingly at random off the shelf and flipped it open. "Are they all in High Valyrian? Because mine is more than a little out of practice."
Nodding, Jon stepped up beside her while making sure he was keeping a respectful distance between the two for proprieties sake. "Not all, but most. Lady Talisa has been most helpful since her arrival in both translating some of the texts and teaching a few of us how to speak and read High Valyrian. Though there hasn't been much time for either of those lessons as of late."
Jon felt a quick spike of jealousy from Arianne that disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. 'Jealousy? Why?'
"Perhaps I can be of assistance then while I am here," Arianne said, replacing the book and returning to her wandering between the shelves. "I do not claim to be an expert in the Valyrian tongue, but I do know enough to instruct you in the basics of the language." As if to prove her point, the princess of Dorne switched from the common tongue to High Valyrian without hesitation. "And perhaps I can show you just what else I can do with my tongue in a more private setting."
Jon suddenly found an intense want to learn High Valyrian. The way the language rolled off her tongue…it brought more than a few images and desires to mind that he had to quickly quell. "I would be honored to learn from you Pr – Arianne. I'm sure that there is much you can teach me."
The look she gave him made his britches more than slightly uncomfortable. "Oh, you have no idea just how much I can teach you, Jon Stark."
An urge awoke within him, like a sleeping bear coming out of its cave on the first day of spring. He wanted her. By the gods did he want her. He wanted to press her against the shelves here and now, tear her dress from her body, and – 'Stop, Jon!' He cursed himself, fighting against the urges raging a war within him as he fought for control. A battle that turned abruptly once more when Arianne turned and jutted her hip towards him as she walked away. 'By the gods…she's a Princess! But on the other hand, she is making all these – no. That's no excuse! She's still a Princess and deserves the utmost respect. Yet had things turned out differently…then I would be a Prince and such things wouldn't matter – no. Stop. Just…stop.'
"Jon? Are you coming? It isn't polite to keep a Princess wanting."
'Gods,' Jon cursed, the war for control still raging within him as he quickened his steps to catch up with Arianne. 'She's going to be the death of me. I swear it.'
Catching up with Arianne, he found the Princess of Dorne standing beside one of the few tables within the library and staring down at its surface. Or, more accurately, the two bracers that were laid out on the surface of the table.
"What are these?" Arianne asked, her dark curls swaying as she turned her head at his approach.
Looking down, Jon wanted to curse his forgetfulness. On the table, thankfully still were he'd left them before his father had sent him south to protect the Martells and Tyrells, was the talisman bracer they'd found in Valyria that allowed him to control the dragon's fire. And next to it was the duplicate that Jon had been trying for over a year to replicate with unfortunately little success. 'At least I remembered to keep my other little gift from Valyria hidden in my room. Gods only know how anyone who react to me having an actual dragons' egg.'
"It's the talisman that I found in the ruins of Valyria. The one that allowed me to control the dragon's fire. Or at least divert it away from us," Jon answered, drawing a surprised look from Arianne. "And this one, well, it's a duplicate I've been trying to make for years using the texts we found in Valyria. But I've had no luck whatsoever with the blasted thing. Even after almost a year, it's little more than a decorative bracer. And not even a well-made one at that."
Arianne favored him with a smile that lifted his ill mood brought on by the reminder of his failure. "I'm sure that you will figure it out, Jon. You're one of the smartest and most gifted men I've met. And I include my father and uncle in that company as well." Turning away, she looked down at the bracer again, the smile fading from her face as one of her fingers began to delicately trace the rune work on the original armlet. "Tell me… You said that you've been using Valyrian text to duplicate this, correct? Which means Valyrian magic."
"Aye," Jon nodded, staring intently at Arianne.
Her smile returned full force as her fingers left the armlet. "Then I might be able to start teaching you here and now, Jon Stark. For these runes are not Valyrian. They are of my people. They're Rhoynish."
"Rhoynish?" Jon questioned, looking back and forth between Arianne and the talisman.
"Yes," Arianne nodded, pointing towards one of the symbols on the armlet. "I am by no means an expert on the subject, but I've studied my ancestors, especially their magic given its recent resurgence. This rune here…I recognize it as being a rune for 'fire'. And I recognize a few of these other runes…however without a guide I am not entirely sure of their meaning. Though I do find it strange that there are Rhoynish runes on a Valyrian artifact. My ancestors did not have the best history with the Dragon Lords. So, it is odd that they would give the Valyrians a part of their magic."
"Actually, it's not as strange as you might think," Jon started, remembering back to the ruins of Valyria and what they learned about the Valyrian people. "The Valyrians didn't just eradicate their enemies. They absorbed them, taking what made their enemies strong and incorporating them into their own people. The Rhoynish were powerful. It isn't surprising that the Valyrians would take in their magic after their defeat. But now that I know that these runes are Rhoynish instead of Valyrian…"
Trailing off, Jon turned on his heel and marched away from Arianne and began searching through the shelves of books looking for anything on the Rhoynar people. 'Come on, there has to be something here,' he thought, quickly scanning over the books. Sam, Talisa, and the other students had been busy trying to categorize the books that they'd found, but it was still a work in progress. Which meant that finding anything about one subject in the library was more than a little difficult. Stumbling in his rush, Jon braced himself on the shelf and cursed his two left feet before blinking dumbly. Right in front of him near the floor was a book with similar symbols as the talisman. Grabbing the book off the shelf, he quickly flipped it open, once again cursing his lack of understanding of the Valyrian tongue as he made his way back.
Arianne was still where he'd left her, though during his brief search she'd managed to pull two chairs up to the table and was currently sitting in one of them. "Did you find something?" she asked, a slight note of excitement in her voice.
"I think so," Jon nodded, taking the empty seat across from her as his excitement mounted, making him forget the fact that he was with a Princess. "These look like the same symbols as on the talisman."
"Hand it over," Arianne all but demanded as he laid the book out on the table so that the two of them could look it over. Arianne immediately began flipping through the pages, her eyes scanning each page quickly before moving on to the next. "Most of this is in High Valyrian. But other parts…like this page here…this is Rhoynish. I might just be able to make some of this out…but this is very old."
Jon lost track of time quickly as he and Arianne sat next to one another with the book spread out between them. He had no idea if her cousins were still in the room or not, nor did he really care. He was so engrossed in his work and in the beautifully intelligent woman beside him that everything else faded into the obscurity. Working together, the two used everything they knew to work their way through the Rhoynish-Valyrian book, using scrap pieces of paper to write down their observations as they went. In seemingly no time at all, the entirety of the surface of the table was covered with various books that Jon had fetched and dozens of pieces of scrap parchment with crude drawings of runic designs.
"So, this is where you two have disappeared to." Jumping slight, Jon cursed himself for having become so engrossed in his work that he'd neglected to keep mindful of his surroundings, and because of that he'd allowed Prince Oberyn to get almost arm's length to the two of them. "I must say, you two caused more than a few tongues to wag at your unexpected disappearance. Though I am quite surprised to see that none of what was being said is actually happening."
"Prince Oberyn!" Jon greeted the man, trying to keep himself passive despite his anger at himself for having failed to have noticed him. "We…We were just working together. Nothing untoward hap–!"
"Relax, boy," Prince Oberyn said, smiling lightly at Jon as he held up a hand. "I know my niece, and I like to think that I've known you long enough to get a good read on you. And if anything were to happen, I know that it would be my niece who would be the guilty party and not you."
"Is there a reason that you are interrupting us, Uncle?" Arianne asked, seemingly completely at ease with the prince's insinuation, which brought more than a few inappropriate thoughts to Jon. "Or have you come merely to try and get a rise out of Jon and I? And before you comment on that with your usual response, don't."
The prince's smirk made Jon shiver as the potential double meaning of Arianne's words came to him. "Nothing of the sort, dear niece. I'm merely here to remind you that our wonderful Stark hosts are holding a welcoming feast for our arrival, as well as belatedly welcoming the Lannisters as well. And I thought it prudent that I find you both before the start of the feast. You two have already started more than a few rumors. Should you both miss the feast…Well, those rumors will become even more interesting by morning. Perhaps even to the point where we'll have to find a Septon or drag you both before the weirwood as is tradition here in the North?"
'Stay calm, Jon,' he thought, willing himself to remain impassive as possible just as his Master had taught him. 'Don't give into his taunting.'
Clicking her tongue, Arianne rose to her feet. "Was it not you uncle who told me that if you do not start at least five scandalous rumors wherever you visit, then you are not trying hard enough?"
Prince Oberyn smirked and nodded. "Yes, I did, niece. Though in that case, I was referring to myself, not you. I do have a reputation to keep after all."
"Of course you do, Uncle," Arianne nodded before turning to him. "I expect you to be my escort for the night, Jon. I have found myself missing your company since you left Sunspear and would not have you parted from me tonight."
"I–I would enjoy that very much, Arianne," Jon replied, only just managing to keep the stutter out of his voice as he agreed to her request.
"Good," Arianne nodded. "Then I best freshen up while I still have the time. And don't think you're going to be completing this little project without me, Jon Stark. You've piqued my interest with this Rhoynish armlet from Valyria. And I intend to be there once you've completed your work."
"Of course, Arianne. I think I have already made twice as much progress with you now than I have in the past six moons alone," he said in an attempt at flattery.
"Yes, you could," Arianne nodded. "Modesty is a good trait to have Jon. But so is confidence. Perhaps you should start showing more of the latter rather than the former." And with that, Arianne turned quickly away from him and marched out of the library with her uncle and cousins following closely behind her.
Now alone, Jon let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "Gods…That woman is going to be the death of me."