[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Westeros, 295 AC.

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Jon remained in his tent with his wife for the next few hours, her body pressed against his. “You knew…” Seryna began, taking his hand and gently pressing it against her belly. “I’ve already decided on the name of our son.” She said.

“You have, I thought we’d still talk about it once we got back to Ártica…” Jon said, raising an eyebrow to her blue eyes.

“Yes… but there’s a name I wanted to give to our first baby…” She said, her gaze filled with expectation for Jon.

“And what name do you want to give him?” Jon asked, curious about what his wife was planning.

“Jon…” She said, tightening her grip on his hand.

“Hm?” Jon was confused by her calling him.

“Jon… that will be his name.” She decided, leaving Jon surprised.

“My name? You want to call him Jon…” He was taken aback.

“Yes… Jon Ártica, the second of your name…” She said with some determination.

“Well… it’s not bad, I’m just quite surprised by it…” He spoke, stroking her belly.

“But it’s a good name, shall we call our son that?” She asked, and Jon ended up nodding.

“Alright… We’ll call him Jon.” Jon decided, imagining their son.

“I’m looking forward to having our little Jon, me, you, Ygritte, and her daughter, according to what she told me…” Seryna commented, and Jon nodded.

They talked and ended up dozing off against each other at that moment, spending the next few hours as night began to overtake the day. Jon was only awakened when one of the royal guards informed him through his wolf in the corner.

Jon opened his eyes, moved his sleeping wife to the side, and began to get out of bed, donning a robe after he had taken off his tuxedo to sleep with his wife.

He approached the exit, while everything was already dark and his camp quite bustling at this moment with the men and women of Ártica gathered there.

“My king!” The royal guards at the door greeted him as they saw Jon approaching.

“What’s the problem?” Jon asked, shifting his attention from the party happening in the middle of the camp to his two royal guards with a man dressed in Tyrell armor.

“This is Ser Nudim Ambrose.” The man introduced himself before his men.

“And how can I help you, Ser?” Jon inquired.

“I am here on order from my lord, to invite you and your family to the banquet happening at the castle.” He said, appearing quite arrogant.

“We are not interested tonight, Ser. Tell the Tyrells that we are a bit tired from the journey and will have to schedule a banquet with your family at another time.” Jon said with a stern look at the man.

“I understand… You should not refuse such an opportunity due to your birth…” The man simply grumbled, and before he could react, a sword was already at his throat.

“You should have more respect for your life, Ser. You think you can come here to offend my king… unless you want to live less.” The royal guard spoke with a dangerous tone.

Despite the knight being quite surprised, after all, he didn’t even have time to react if that man wanted to kill him, he still took some courage and scoffed. “You savages think you can lay hands on a knight of this kingdom, you will be dead before dawn breaks.” He said.

However, what he didn’t expect was a punch coming his way, and before he could react again, the punch crushed him, burying his nose while Jon himself was hitting him at this moment.

The sound of breaking bones was faintly heard as he fell to the ground, rolling several meters and many men saw that scene, stopping their festivities and looking intently, waiting for any enemy action to fight as well.

Everyone was surprised that it was the king himself hitting the man who was dazed by it, his face began to drip blood like a waterfall, and he looked at Jon with surprise and fear.

“You- You broke my nose!” He growled, but still fearful looking at anyone who might still attack him. “This will not stand! I will speak of this to the nobles, you will pay for hitting a Tyrell knight! You Bastard!!!” He snarled and began to leave, due to calling Jon a Bastard, many men were about to stop him, but Jon raised his hand to let them halt.

“Let him go.” Jon said, and they let the man leave quickly, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

“Why let him go, my king?” a royal guard asked as many awaited Jon’s response.

Jon just smiled, “I admit, if it were another time, I would have broken his bones, but let’s let him go for now…” Jon addressed everyone. “After all, I want to see the Tyrells’ stance on this matter, because it will be a good opportunity to decide if we need to take precautions and alert the fleet to be ready to act at any moment or not…” Jon explained, wanting to see how his future trade partners would react.

“Jon…?” Seryna emerged in a dress, asking what was happening. “What was all that commotion?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, my love.” Jon said, taking her face in his hands and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

His gaze returned to the guards. “Stay alert and don’t let anyone else come too close, and do not allow anyone from the Ambrose family to set foot in this camp; we are canceling any trade agreement with them.” Jon declared, seeing it as a good way to command respect by disregarding the families who tried to meddle with him and his family.

He looked at a Tyrell man approaching, one of the guards left by the family to help secure the camp. “You explain what happened here, I’m going to be with my men.” Jon said as one of the royal guards nodded, with Jon heading to the center of the camp where everyone was gathered with his wife by his side.

“Jon!” Arya approached, still in her training clothes and a bit dirty, she hadn’t even bothered to take a shower, choosing instead to eat with the others. “What happened?” She asked, since the punch had been seen by half the camp.

“I just taught a very arrogant guy a lesson…” Jon said, patting Arya on the head.

“Now let’s go talk to everyone.” He said finally, leading his wife and sister with a royal guard to the place where everyone was gathered.

The place was filled with a large bonfire in the middle, which highlighted the spot from all the other noble tents, while burning hot for those who got too close. There were some large stones, serving as seats for the giants, who ate their vegetarian meals while sitting in front of the fire; after all, giants have always been fascinated by fire. Meanwhile, the dwarves were half gathered in a group while the rest were scattered around the place, eating and chatting.

The men and women of Ártica were all over the place, some talking with the giants, others toasting with the dwarves.

It was a lively and festive atmosphere that Jon’s people knew how to create, with their flags and banners featuring the Ártica symbol fluttering in the night breeze and illuminated by the large bonfire.

In the center of this festive gathering, Jon and Seryna approached the crowd with Arya following behind, “The king has arrived!” a dwarf shouted excitedly as always.

Jon just smiled and nodded. “I saw the punch he gave that man just now, his face was disfigured and they had to carry the unconscious man to that Nester!” a dwarf with a blond beard exclaimed.

“It’s maester, you idiot!” another corrected him.

“Anyway, it was quite entertaining to see that man fly from a punch!” The dwarf seemed very excited, although he was exaggerating his story.

“Hey, Jon! Come drink here, I’m showing this idiot how to drink!” Tormund called out, teasing another dwarf.

“What did you say, you red-bearded fool!” the dwarf retorted.

Jon just shook his head at Tormund; that man was drinking too much and the night was just beginning.

“How are you all…” Jon resumed walking and stopped at the row of giants sitting and eating in one corner.

“Well…” They spoke to Jon.

“I hope so, the climate is better than the North, but clearly warm…” Jon said and the giants nodded.

“It’s beautiful here.” One of them admitted.

“You’re right…” Seryna smiled, agreeing with her fellow.

“Anyway, enjoy yourselves and always stay alert to our enemies.” Jon warned, and everyone nodded seriously.

“Let’s go with the dwarves!” Arya said excitedly, she always liked the Ártican dwarves so it was very easy to see her with them.

They approached the group, who were already quite merry from the amount of mead and beer consumed with ice, two types of drinks that Jon had not yet traded. They gathered closer to the warmth of the fire.

“Our king has arrived!” one of them announced.

“That calls for a song!” another exclaimed, and everyone agreed.

They raised their mugs in a noisy toast and began to sing a song while one looked to another cheerfully, starting with a dwarf leading the group.

“In lands where the snow never ceases,” he said and another began to continue.

“Under the boreal sky, our eternal home,”

“The hammer echoes strong in the promise,” a third said, standing up and striking a pose.

“Of Ártica, where the brave thrive.” Another spoke, pointing to one of the Ártican flags scattered around the camp.

“In forges hot as the heart of a volcano,

Steel and iron bend to our will.

We sing in unison, our song,

Celebrating strength, courage, loyalty.”

A whole group began to sing at this moment.

“On the ice steppes, fierce battles we fight,

With hearts burning and spirits of titans.

In cold lands where our dreams are engraved,

Our home, our refuge, our mountain.”

They were good, synchronizing movements and keeping the rhythm of the music as always.

“Come, oh wind of the north, tell our story,

Of dwarves under the light of the glorious aurora.

In every hammer strike, our art, our memory,

Ártica shines forth, powerful and victorious.”

At the end, they finished clapping for each other, while Arya did the same with Jon smiling and Seryna joining in.

“Very good, I hope you continue to enjoy yourselves.” Jon spoke and continued on his way to a main table set aside for him and his wife. Settling in the place,

“Bring anything my wife wants, for me, a glass of whiskey on the rocks is great.” Jon said as they were served by an Ártican woman, placing dishes on their table.

Arya soon joined them, leaving the dwarves, and they continued enjoying the evening at the site, in a joyful and festive atmosphere, especially as a group of people picked up musical instruments and began to play for everyone there. But this could not be said for the other side of that place.

The sounds of laughter and music playing in the Ártican camp quickly became a highlight, lesser nobles and guards or soldiers who were left in the camps of the nobles, due to not being important enough to enter the castle with the invitation from the main family of the kingdom, heard how the camp was at that moment.

After all, besides being quite bright with that bonfire, the sound was too loud. “They seem quite joyful…” said a guard who was overseeing the camp under orders from the Tyrells.

“Are they like this beyond the wall? I thought they were a calmer people… worried about not freezing their own balls off.” another spoke.

“You talk as if you’ve never seen how rich they are… They produce their own food… so it can’t be ice where they live.” he gossiped to his colleague.

“Well, it doesn’t matter… We should just keep an eye out that no one tries to enter this camp of savages…” a third mocked to the two.

“But it looks so good… I wish I were there too…” one of them couldn’t help but complain.

Meanwhile, outside the castle, inside there was a grand event happening as the great nobles gathered in the main hall of the Tyrells. Everything seemed typical of a grand noble party as all the main nobles dressed impeccably to show off their status to the sound of bards playing in a corner of the hall, the elite of the people of this kingdom were chatting quietly, talking about news and gossip, while some couples gathered in the middle of the hall dancing.

The main thing at this event was the goods that Jon had made available to everyone, with the intention of showcasing these products to the people there to get used to and become interested in them, and they seemed quite perceptive to the Ártican items, especially the ice as a novelty that they had never experienced there.

The Tyrells were gathered at the main table, with the head of their family, Mace Tyrell, in the middle and the face of the family around him.

“Do you think he will come, Margaery?” Margaery asked her grandmother, a bit curious, while Olenna just looked at her maintaining a closed smile.

“You seem curious… But I believe he won’t, he’s not the type to blindly walk into the Thorny Garden. That’s why I sent a specific person, since I’d like to see his reaction,” she spoke. After all, just as Jon wanted to test the waters, Olenna was doing the same; both were players starting to play against each other.

Before Margaery could speak again, something happened at that moment as the door to the hall opened, making everyone look towards it with the force with which it happened, while a man with a bleeding nose began to enter and a maester right behind him, looking quite worried. “You must stop the bleeding!” He said, but the man didn’t hear him as people made way for them, especially the women not wanting to stain their dresses with blood and looking at the man with disgust and a certain horror.

Everyone there recognized him as a knight of House Ambrose, who worked with the Tyrells for not being a very important member of the house, Ser Nudim Ambrose. The man approached the main table while the blood was still dripping.

“What happened?” Mace quickly stood up and looked concerned at the man.

“It was those Articans!” The man growled, while everyone looked at him surprised.

“What do you mean by that?” Willas spoke now, before his father could say something foolish.

“They are savages. I was inviting him here according to your instructions, and that… that…” he was going to say, but didn’t have the courage to finish, after all, it could be bad for him. “He hit me and broke my nose!” he finally spoke.

“Are you saying Jon Ártica hit you?” Olenna spoke for the first time while even the music of the bards had stopped and she looked with a gleam in her eyes at the man, already guessing the answer.

“Exactly. I want retaliation for what he did,” he demanded angrily, and soon the hall entered into various people murmuring with each other, but the Nobles were waiting to see what would happen with this type of situation.

“Mother…” Mace was a bit lost while Olenna nodded, returning her attention to the knight.

“Let me see if I understand.” She began, drawing everyone’s attention. “You said you went to invite Jon Ártica here and he punched you? If you know that although our guests come from beyond the wall where we only know them as savages, I doubt he would attack someone so easily,” she said as everyone continued to gossip even more about the incident, murmuring among themselves.

“I,” the man seemed a bit lost with this, after all, he didn’t expect this type of questioning, since the group was a bunch of savages coming from the north, and he should have more weight in his words than those savage people.

Seeing the man unable to answer, Olenna then continued mockingly. “Ha, let’s suppose,” she continued teasing. “Nobody punches someone out of the blue, even people coming from beyond the wall, and you’re saying a 15-year-old boy hit a 30-year-old man? It’s hard to believe.” she spoke in her ironic tone, while several laughs began to spread through the hall, embarrassing the man.

The knight looked a bit shriveled with that, clearly not liking this type of questioning, but he couldn’t do anything about it. “I demand retaliation!” He still requested.

“You provoked him and got what you deserved. I told you: do not provoke them so easily. Now, you of House Ambrose will probably receive some retaliation from him. After all, the products we are trying tonight are exclusive to them. It will be a pity if the family cannot consume them as a requirement from our guests,” she said, while his own family seemed quite somber with that.

Imagine being repudiated and boycotted while the entire kingdom receives products. Nobody wanted to go through that. The man seemed quite lost, seeing that things were not going as he predicted, after all, he is a knight of the kingdom against savages from the north, but he was seeing that he was hasty in provoking that boy, after all, he wanted to earn the sword on Jon’s waist…

“Can you leave us, Sir Knight? The maester should take care of you, and I would recommend you leave here tomorrow.” Olenna concluded.

“But it’s the fair!” the man spoke, after all, he would be competing as a knight.

“You provoked important guests, so we cannot ignore that,” she finally spoke, as the entire hall fell silent.

The other nobles were quite surprised, as some of them had hoped to provoke the Articans, but now they would have to think twice seeing the support the Tyrells themselves had for them.

“Are you sure about this, mother?” Mace asked beside her, as he would clearly stand by the knight.

“You really are an idiot. It’s good that I speak and you stay quiet,” Olenna did not miss a chance to mock.

“But…” Mace tried to speak again.

“Just stay quiet. It’s the best thing you do,” she spoke again, while he shrank under her words.

Her gaze then turned to one of the windows, where an owl was flying and disappearing into the night sky at that moment. She just smiled, already imagining what that might mean.

‘I can see that he really can control animals. Interesting, very interesting,’ she couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“Was that wise, grandmother?” Willas asked his grandmother.

“Oh, my dear,” Olenna spoke, “I knew he would do that. The fool is too arrogant and I needed to conduct some tests,” she said mysteriously. After all, she really had proof that Jon could control animals and wanted to see what the boy’s temperament was like, which did not disappoint her.

But what she did not know was that there was a little mouse beside the table, listening to everything. After all, Jon always left a second option, wanting to know what she wanted and already guessing what it was. So, he used the owl to prove the obvious. Sooner or later she would find out anyway, so he let his true intentions be shown, while he still had an ear hidden only on her.

Jon and Olenna were like cat and mouse as players, but it would still take time to know who was the cat and who was the mouse, as one played against the other at that moment.

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