[Chapter Size: 3800 Words.]

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Pessoa Thrid POV

Westeros, 295 AC.

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It didn’t take long for the competitors to finally emerge from each side of the tournament, while Loras had already exchanged his noble clothes for a plate armor made by the best blacksmiths of Westeros.

He entered, boasting with a firm posture as he rode out on his horse, displaying the Tyrell sigil on his chest and shield, appearing in front of the entire crowd that immediately cheered for him.

The ladies seemed to go wild, as Loras was very gallant with good status, combined with not being betrothed yet, where single women saw a great opportunity.

“Let’s start the first round!!” The herald exclaimed again, while the judges also prepared to start and evaluate.

“Jousting seems so boring compared to the horse racing games in Artica’s arena…” Arya murmured, not finding much fun in a game where people hit each other with lances.

“Each kingdom has its own games and culture, Arya, you should know that.” Seryna said.

“She will learn that over the next few years, after all, we will be traveling east.” Jon said, revealing a bit of his plans.

“To the east? Like Meereen?” She asked, surprised.

“Farther east, I’m talking about the Jade Sea and Yi-Ti.” Jon smiled.

“Really, we’re going to travel that far…?! You told me that few have achieved that feat and one of them is Corlys Velaryon, known as the Sea Snake.” She said excitedly.

“I see you still remember my history lessons, but we’ll talk about that later, first let’s pay attention to the tournament in front of us…” Jon requested and Arya complied while the first joust was about to begin with the knights calmly walking through the stands.

Loras stopped in front of the Tyrell stands and asked the favor of none other than his own sister, a smart move, as it would not give any opportunity to single ladies, which seemed that Loras did not like women very much. Besides, this would greatly enhance Margaery’s status as well.

After receiving the favor, which Margaery gave with pleasure and cheered for her brother, his opponent, Wuter, took the favor of another lady and they began to prepare, each standing at one end.

Jon watched as Loras and Wuter positioned themselves on their horses, each holding their first lances above their shoulders, ready for the first joust of the tournament. Both horses moved, uncomfortable with the situation, but still obeying their riders.

The trumpets sounded, signaling the start of the joust. Loras finally lowered his visor, adjusted his position in the saddle, and held the lance firmly. Wuter did the same, his eyes focused on his opponent.

“Let the first battle begin!” The judge announced, and in the blink of an eye, both knights charged, their horses galloping with force and determination towards each other.

They quickly ran towards each other as the sound echoed across the ground, meeting in the middle of the field. The sound of lances clashing against shields echoed through the arena.

The crowd immediately screamed in excitement while the ladies sighed, with Loras losing a bit of balance in his saddle, seeming that Ser Wuter had taken some advantage over him. Loras was slightly suspended, but in the next moment, he firmly remounted and reached the end, before meeting a squire, who handed him a new lance, as his had cracked.

They took their lances and once again ran towards the center in unison, the advance continued until they clashed against each other once more. But this time, Loras not only avoided the previous situation but managed to bypass Ser Wuter’s shield, hitting his chest, while his plate dented, and he was forced to move against the advance with the lance, unable to even land a hit on Loras.

“Ser Wuter has fallen!” The herald shouted as the crowd exploded into applause and cheers of enthusiasm, celebrating Loras’ victory. Loras demonstrated why he was Renly’s champion. His lance hit Wuter with such force that he fell heavily to the ground and stayed there for a while until he started to leave the field.

Loras still flaunted a bit to the crowd before starting to leave, meeting a squire. “The first fight is over… Now we’ll be watching 62 more matches before seeing Jon…” Seryna commented.

“Watching men eat dirt all day, what more could I ask for…” Jon said with an ironic tone.

“Why do you have to be the last, you can beat anyone there.” Arya complained once again, not wanting to watch this all day. After all, she wasn’t like those southern ladies who screamed desperately for attention from some knight.

“I think I might find someone very strong in my turn…” Jon murmured with a slight smile.

“I highly doubt it.” Arya said, and then the judge called. “Number 3 and number 4!” he exclaimed, and the knights, already knowing their numbers, began to leave the corners of the field while taking some favor from their lady as the previous knights did and began once again with the judge’s shout. This joust lasted four rounds before number 4 knocked down the opposing knight. They even announced their names, but Jon was not very concerned about that.

The fights continued as time began to pass shortly after. Jon still kept an eye on the matches, responding to some people who addressed him, while watching another knight fall to the ground.

It didn’t take long for another knight to fall to the ground in the next round. “Arctic King, your boredom is visible from miles away, how about a bet like in the archery game?” Renly decided to speak to Jon from the other podium.

“Another bet? What do you propose?” Jon asked, a bit curious.

“What else? How about this, I bet that the knight of House Ball will win this round.” Renly challenged him with a smile, and Jon nodded.

“Very well, 500 gold dragons and I believe he will not defeat Ser Flowers. This round will be a draw,” Jon said. He didn’t know the man’s name, but he knew he had the bastard name.

“I wouldn’t say that, the opponent of the man I’m betting on seems pretty weak.” Renly said, and many laughed at that.

“You are right… but there are other factors that may interfere with my judgment…” Jon commented.

He could see that the bastard knight was quite deficient in his skills, but Jon could see that his horse was better than the opponent’s and compensated for that. It’s not like Jon had a 100% chance of getting this right, but it was a bet, so he believed in the things that had the highest chance of happening.

Both knights crossed each other, striking one another, with neither of them falling. Jon turned back to Renly, who did not seem affected by losing. “It seems I’ve won, prince of Westeros.” Jon said.

“Yes, but I can still recover that by the end of the day.” He said confidently.

Jon could hear more challenges coming from the prince as he kept nodding, enjoying the tournament better while winning most of the time. Besides seeing the knights’ skills, he could see the condition of the animal they were riding, but he still couldn’t get them all right, as there were still many factors he had no control over.

The hours continued to pass with Jon eating things his men brought, the Articans seemed bored watching unknown knights, with the dwarves complaining, in contrast with the rest of the common folk who seemed even more excited about this game than the archery championship.

The fights continued until all the games had passed, and finally, it was Jon’s turn with someone he still didn’t know. “This game is before me, it’s time for me to prepare.” Jon warned as he got up for the next game.

“Finally, we’ll see a king enter a joust… I hope to see a great spectacle.” Renly announced while everyone looked at Jon.

“Good luck, Jon.” Seryna said.

“Go on, Jon!” Arya cheered as he left with a guard and went to the area where the horses were taken care of, where some Articans were taking care of his animal as he approached.

“Hello… Panis.” Jon said calmly while some people nearby, especially other squires taking care of their animals, looked at him. Jon touched the horse.

Panis neighed, this animal had been with him for years, it was his first horse, the same one that saved him at the Icehill farm, the one that kicked the bandit Jon was about to die from when he was only eight namedays old and had accompanied him since then to Artica. Jon had considered him his main horse ever since.

“My king, your armor is ready.” The soldier came with the eldenmetal armor.

“That’s good, help me put it on.” Jon requested.

“!” The horse made another sound, but Jon smiled.

“Sorry, my friend, we can’t put armor on you, it’s against the rules of this competition, but we will still win them all.” Jon said and began to put on the armor quickly with his men.

When he was finished, with Panis now having a proper saddle, he mounted him, touching him calmly. “Let’s go, buddy, let’s prepare for the fight…” Jon said, waiting for the last round of the current match until one of them fell. Jon’s horse seemed quite excited, pawing the ground with one of its front hooves.

“The fight seems to be over…” Jon heard the herald shout a winner while he waited a bit longer. “Now we have our two final candidates in this first elimination round, and it’s none other than the King of Artica himself, who bet against Prince Renly to win his lands or lose his sword. Now let’s see a bit of the man who entered such a grand bet, Jon Artica!” He shouted as some men asked Jon to enter. Not that he didn’t already know this was the moment, but he then entered the field galloping while the crowd appeared in front of him.

“What a beautiful armor!”

“So that’s the King of Artica?!”

“He certainly knows how to dress like one.”

People were immediately surprised by Jon’s armor as he walked calmly through the place, his armor shining and reflecting the sunlight, a reflection that represented Artica and its king. His figure was even more mesmerizing than anyone who had ever entered here. His metal plates with Eldenmetal were white and blue, like the Artican flag, displaying his master blacksmith work, which he had forged himself. An idea came to everyone: after all, whoever knocked Jon off his horse could win the armor or demand a ransom as a tournament rule. No one thought he would use such an expensive item here, but many knights were eyeing it with greed.

He continued walking through the field while the exclamations stopped just to look at him with admiration. He passed by the main podiums and went to the sky.

“My lady, may I have the honor of using your favor in this fight?” Jon teased Seryna, who patiently walked to the edge of the place, and when Jon pointed his lance at her, she placed a small garland of Artican flowers.

“Win this fight for me, my knight…” She decided to join in the game.

He just nodded and continued to walk with her favor, but looked confused at the judge, who had not yet announced his opponent, until a servant ran to him and whispered something.

Jon didn’t notice how Lord Tarly in one of the stands was frowning at this. Jon went to the edge of the place where he had come from and waited, with only him in the field and people starting to murmur why his opponent had not yet participated.

“Has the Arctic King already scared his opponent?” Renly commented, looking at the Articans.

“Probably…” They mocked.

Then the judge, after hearing from the servant who had spoken earlier, announced again. “Now, the opponent of this man, the Knight of the Cartwheel!!” He announced, leaving everyone stunned, as a man mounted on a horse that could barely bear his weight approached.

This unknown knight was a bit too fat, while people who were stunned by his name soon saw a funny scene and in the next moment began to burst into laughter.

“What is this?!”

“Where did this guy come from…”

“Someone get him off the horse, poor animal!”

“Look, now I get the name, this was supposed to be an event between knights, who called the jester!”

Exclamations from nobles and commoners alike were soon heard all over the place, while Lord Tarly’s face grew darker in one of the stands.

“A thousand gold coins that Jon Artica will knock him down in the first round!” Renly shouted, but no one seemed to bet against it, as it was evident that the chances of winning the bet were very low.

The knight in question seemed to shrug while everyone laughed at him, wondering what he was doing there. But Jon looked at it with a raised eyebrow. “Samwell?! What is he doing here…” Jon murmured softly, seeing the fat man and recognizing him. It was evident that he didn’t want to be there.

‘Maybe his father forced him… he even left out the family name to avoid humiliation…’ Jon thought, but still didn’t understand why he chose that name.

But Sam hadn’t chosen that name; after all, he had stuttered his name, and the servant who heard it mocked him and made up a name before going to the judge. Samwell looked terrified, and when he saw Jon on the other side, his fear increased even more, knowing he was facing a king.

It was evident he would lose, but he was there because his father forced him, and he would at least have to run towards the knight, expecting to fall and get out of there, probably with a big sermon from his father later, saying he was a disgrace and it would have been better if someone like him had never been born a Tarly.

“Begin!!!” the judge shouted, but Jon didn’t move while Samwell still looked without knowing what to do…

“…” Jon looked at him and didn’t know what to say. The boy was scared, and Jon liked him; at least he was one of the few sincere people here who didn’t try to gain favors through friendship. Knowing his story, he could even put himself in his place.

‘Let’s help him a bit then…’ Jon murmured internally and prepared with his lance pointed forward.

“Come on! Start it.”

“Make the fat one start!!”

People shouted impatiently as they saw Samwell trembling with fear in his saddle, not knowing who he was with his visor down, as his father had ensured he wouldn’t be recognized.

What no one expected was that in the next moment, the cartwheel knight’s horse looked at Jon, and its eyes seemed to change after blinking once. It simply exploded the ground below it with its hooves, advancing at full speed towards Jon, who did the same.

“AHHHHH!!” Samwell was terrified, holding his shield on one side and his lance on the other, almost jumping off the horse as he couldn’t keep steady. Even his shield was poorly positioned while his lance was still pointed upwards, trying to stop the horse, but it was impossible for him.

“STOP STOP STOP!!” Samwell shouted, looking clumsy in the saddle, eliciting numerous laughs from the audience. His eyes widened when he saw Jon charging at full speed with his horse, pointing his lance at Samwell in a hostile manner, striking his shield as soon as he hit him.

Jon did this on purpose, and although Samwell nearly lost his balance, he quickly regained his composure as his horse calmed down. Jon continued forward until reaching the other side to grab another giant white lance.

Samwell was dazed, not believing he had survived the first round, watching Jon prepare again on the other side.

“He really knows how to ride…” Renly commented, a bit surprised by Jon’s skills, but then came a disappointment. “But he couldn’t knock this man down in the first round… could the Arctic King have overestimated himself…” he commented.

“Of course, he could never beat me, and I’ll still take his armor…” Loras said beside him, while Olenna looked at her grandson, shaking her head.

“He knows how to use the lance, but who is the other fat knight? I don’t remember another knight in this condition.” Garlan commented.

“I don’t know… but you know many knights appear in these tournaments with unknown names; some aren’t even knights…” Willas commented, but his gaze fell on Jon on the other side. “That horse… I’ve never seen anything like it…” he commented with admiration.

“Jon didn’t win the first time…” Arya said, grumpily.

“You’re too impatient, wait and enjoy Jon’s show.” Seryna said, recognizing that Jon had used his Warg abilities on the opponent’s horse.

Suddenly, once again, the cartwheel knight’s horse exploded without warning while Samwell tried to stay on it. Jon did the same, and Samwell couldn’t point the lance, even dropping it, unable to hold on with the horse in that state.

Jon once again struck his shield purposely in a way that didn’t injure or knock the fat man down. The audience sighed and were surprised that despite being fat, the man managed to ride his horse well, even if he wasn’t directly controlling it and almost fell several times.

This continued for a while, as Samwell grabbed another lance and they jousted. In the seventh round, while his horse continued advancing without his control, he pointed his lance at Jon, who used his shield to defend easily.

They continued like this until the last matches, and Jon didn’t even need to knock him down, as he won by points. “Victory, King of Artica!” the herald shouted, and although people clapped, there was no longer the enthusiasm from before. Even with Jon looking more splendid than any other knight, he spent nine entire rounds just breaking shields while the man only tried to stay on the horse. It was disappointing to say the least for them, but Jon didn’t care, as he had no obligation to please them.

“Thank you…” Samwell said softly. His father didn’t seem as disappointed as he had imagined in his seat with his family.

“It was a good fight to start with, thank you, Samwell…” Jon said and withdrew, with Samwell looking at him, stunned, as Jon had recognized him.

As Jon returned, he felt his horse move restlessly while making an unsatisfied sound. “You know we didn’t have a spectacular victory?” Jon scolded while the animal, as always, seemed very intelligent.

Jon returned to his men and they took care of Panis. Jon returned to his podium still in armor and waited for his turn, which would be halfway through the initial candidates, with 32 matches.

The fights continued again with Loras and another man who had defeated his previous opponent, while Arya seemed to complain about Jon, but he didn’t care and waited for his turn until it finally came again.

Jon donned his armor and left with Panis, going to Seryna and taking her favor again for luck. As he walked, the knight passed by him and approached.

“You know that if I win, I have the right to take that armor, right? And I won’t accept your ransom gold, bastard.” The man said, and Jon looked at him with a dangerous expression while his horse unbalanced him a bit, afraid of Jon.

“…” Jon said nothing as he went to his spot to wait for the signal. As soon as they were ready, the judge shouted.

“Are we going to have to wait another nine rounds?” a noble shouted while others laughed, with Arya angry in her seat while Seryna tried to calm her and watched Jon approaching the opponent in the center.

If anyone expected nine rounds, they were wrong, because Jon wasted no time. He struck the man, breaking his shield with his superhuman strength and throwing him backward with his armor crushed without mercy.

No round so far had anyone knocking down the opponent like that, filling the place with excitement in the next moment as the man fell, screaming and beginning to moan in pain as Jon crushed him so much in his armor that he dented and broke some ribs.

“Take this man’s armor later, there will be no negotiation, and I intend to make a scarecrow out of it in front of our camp.” Jon said to his men there, who nodded, watching the man being carried on a wooden stretcher to a medic.

“Well… that was surprising, take this…” Renly said, tossing a bag of gold dragons to the side.

A small hand grabbed those coins, with Arya smiling with that acquired gold. “Thank you, Prince Renly, it’s always a pleasure to win against you.” Arya said with a mischievous smile while betting on Jon.

The tournament continued to another phase with 16 matches and 32 knights. It was already late in the afternoon when Jon was called once again to compete in the last match of the day. He appeared again with his Eldenmetal armor, facing an unknown knight, but he was very polite and respectful. Jon continued this joust until the fifth lance, knocking him down in the end carefully not to hurt him severely with the fall.

After all, these jousts were quite dangerous. Besides Jon breaking a man’s arm and several ribs, many other men had broken limbs, and one even died in a match with a lance piercing his neck through an opening in his armor.

“Finally, we conclude this glorious day, but tomorrow we will have the final, with Jon Artica and Renly Baratheon continuing their bets without anyone losing today. Who will win tomorrow?!” the herald announced, gaining the crowd’s anticipation as people, both commoners and nobles, commented.

Despite Jon knocking a man down with one blow and injuring him severely, they still didn’t see him as a favorite. After all, he took nine rounds in one fight and five in another, giving the impression that he was lucky and his skills were mediocre.

Jon joined his group and they began to leave shortly after, heading to the camp and then to the banquet that night.

Raccoon here:

I had to look up the name Panis at the beginning of the chapters because I couldn’t remember it anymore. I found it in chapter 11…

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