Jon tied his horse to the nearest tree and walked towards their little camp. Lord Moss was already brandishing his sword, getting into a fighting stance, "want some time to get your armor on?"
"I don't need armor to fight"
"I really don't want to get executed for accidentally killing the Lord of Winterfell's son", Lord Moss looked uneasy. Normally, killing a bastard wouldn't be too bad but Lord Stark was quite a bit more protective than most lords, seven hells, he had raised him with his true born children.
"Bold of you to assume you can touch me", Jon boasted, Loki's arrogance shining through. He was a god! What did this mortal think he was up against?
"Oh, is that so? Cocky for a bastard. Fine but don't blame me when we have to drag you to the nearest maester", Lord Moss said, waiting for the bastard to ready his weapon.
Jon took the spear in his hands and got into stance. Without warning, Lord Moss jumped at him, feinting for the right till, in the last moment, he switched to an upwards strike. Jon just blocked the sword with his spear's shaft before swinging its backside at the lords noggin. The helmet rang in a sharp, metallic sound. Still disoriented, the Lord swung his sword, which the bastard again blocked as he kicked at Moss' leg, forcing him to the ground. There was a lot of force behind that kick, though not nearly as much as he had within him. If he went full out, the leg would've snapped like a twig. Jon raised the point of his spear to the lord's neck, "do you yield?"
"Fuck you", he growled, rolling backwards and jumping in his feet. He could've stopped him but it was fun, toying with his opponent. Moss circled the bastard with sword in hand. Jon turned to always face him.
After what felt like an eternity, Jon had enough waiting and jumped at the Lord with his spear aimed at his shoulder. He was fast, so fast that Lord Moss barely managed to raise his sword to intercept the strike. Metal pressed against metal and Jon put more and more force into it until- *crack*, both the sword and the spearhead began cracking under the pressure. Alarmed, Moss jumped back and looked at his blade, long cracks had begun forming across its surface. Jon did the same with his weapon, it too had begun fracturing at the metal parts. The wooden part was unharmed due to the resiliency of the ironwood.
Both the fighters stabbed their cracked weapons in the ground. Moss drew a dagger from his side and Jon conjured one from thin air. Not made of steel but of bronze, yet way more sturdy than castle forged steel. The others assumed he had pulled the weapon from somewhere when they weren't looking. Moss rushed at him with his dagger.
Metal clashed, sparks flew but Jon was faster. Between clashes he landed a multitude of small cuts on his opponents hands and arms. He only wore a breastplate, no arm guards. With each passing second, Lord Moss grew more and more tired, whilst Jon wasn't even breathing any harder. With a final jab, he forced the lords dagger to the ground, "do you yield?"
"I yield", Lord Moss looked down, his pride wounded. He was clenching his jaw.
"Don't look so disappointed, you are still a powerful warrior, Jon is just on another level", Barry consoled Lord Moss as Jon replaced his spear tip with one made of conjured bronze. This one wouldn't break so easily.
"I- I have never seen so much power. My sword it- it cracked under the pressure! What kind of monster is he?" The young Lord looked at him with fear and respect. It was difficult for his head to wrap around, this man- no, this boy was not even ten and four and yet he held such skill, such power. If he was this good at ten and three, what kind of beast would he be when he was a man grown?
Silently, he took his shaking hands and drank some of the wine in his flask, "I'll go get us some fire wood", he said, walking off into the woods, leaving the other three to set up the rest of camp.
Ser Gary went into the woods as well, hunting them some game. A couple of hours later, they sat around the campfire, enjoying roast deer. The battle was almost forgotten as they ate and talked. They complained about their wives and boasted about their children, "have you ever been with a woman, Snow?" Lord Moss asked the bastard as his teeth were sinking into the meat.
"No. I don't want to fuck a whore just to say I have fucked her"
"Don't tell me you want to be celibate, like the maesters or the nights watch"
"No, certainly not. I just won't lower myself to sleep with a whore" Jon said. He had no problem with whores but it was unbecoming of a prince of Asgard to mingle with a common whore.
"I tell you, some of the best sex I've had was with Whores. My wife never moans like they do", Lord Moss chuckled.
'Tell me you can't please a woman without telling me you can please a woman' thought Jon, 'I bet you would be fucking livid if your wife slept around as much as you apparently do'
He shook his head, "I'll go take a piss"
He walked into the woods around them and did exactly that. Relieved, he walked back to his group, where the conversation had already shifted to something else.
That night, they took turns taking watch. When it was his turn, he watched the stars above them. He felt transported back to that first night in this world almost two years ago now. Since then, he had learned more of the constellations, the great stallion in the east, the lightbringer's eyes in the south, the direwolf pack in the north. Looking at those new stars, he was still filled with wonder as if he was a little child that had first gazed upon the night sky.