[Chapter Size: 4200 Words.]

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Pessoa Thrid POV

Westeros, 295 AC.

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The party was routine, while everything seemed ordinary, with people preparing for the next day when the man who would win the tournament would finally be declared. Jon was not the favorite among the people of Westeros, at least not by the majority, believing that his two fights with many rounds had given the idea that he was not very skilled.

“Remember to bet a lot of money tomorrow. After all, 20,000 gold coins is such a small amount…” Jon said to one of his ministers, hoping to enrich himself a bit more with that, not that he needed the money, but he wanted to have the taste of making these nobles lose money.

“Yes, my king. I will ensure to have the best profit tomorrow.” The minister said, while Jon looked at the nobles dancing and chatting, many of those knights who would fight tomorrow while they boasted about the possible outcomes they would make.

“It seems Eldric has found love among the southerners…” Seryna said, catching Jon’s attention as he watched his archer dancing with the same lady.

“I will not forbid her from entering Artica, as long as she stays there until we open our borders…” Jon said, after all, if Eldric liked to marry a southerner… it wouldn’t be a problem for him.

The banquet started with exclamations from Renly Baratheon saying he was excited for tomorrow and reminding of the bet he had made with Jon, after that Jon returned to his camp.

“Jon, what do you plan to do with the troops coming here?” Seryna asked Jon, after all, he had already talked to her about what happened in King’s Port.

“I will be intercepting all the ravens arriving at the castles in the next few days, I will finalize our negotiations and we will be leaving, but not as cowards… it seems that these people will have to know the consequences of facing us.” Jon said, already with a plan in his mind.

“Are you going to raid that city…?” She asked.

“Yes… Lord Hightower is asking too much for me to visit Oldtown, much more than he should, obviously he is planning something with those maesters… But since they want me to go there, I will do it, we need books and there is an almost inexhaustible amount at that place…” Jon commented.

“I will go with you.” She simply said as he looked at her with a serious glint.

“No.” He said dryly.

“I won’t let you get into that midst of treacherous people… I am a giant, I can be quite useful.” She said.

“You carry the best of both of us in your belly, I won’t let you get into this. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you and the baby, you will stay with the fleet, understand?” He said with a tone indicating that he did not plan to have room for discussion.

“…” Seryna looked at him, despite the gleam of reluctance in her blue eyes, she eventually nodded.

“Alright, but just come back alive to me and our baby.” She said and he nodded, as she went to his lips. “Can you take care of me tonight then?” She said as she took off her dress and Jon ended up taking her as his wife like every night.

The next day was a routine one, while they spent some time there organizing things before heading to the tournament, while Jon was already going with Panis mounted, arriving at the place while he prepared for the jousts, as always he was the last.

Loras won on the third attempt as the opponent’s shield could not withstand the blow and was destroyed hitting the knight before knocking him down. in the first match. After that the other knights continued fighting one against the other.

Everything continued until the last ones were called, with Jon leaving the Artican podium a bit earlier and entering with Panis again. When called, Jon was at the sound of the trumpets and the excited screams of the crowd.

Today’s opponent was a notable noble: Sor Garlan Tyrell himself, the champion of melee, as a knight, he could not help but participate in the jousting tournament, possibly even beating his younger brother, he walked up to the Tyrells’ podium and took the favor of his fiancée.

He finished and looked at Jon from across with a slight nod of the head, as they prepared by positioning themselves on opposite ends of the field.

Jon adjusted his visor, his armor of Eldenmetal shimmering under the sun once more. At the signal from the judge, both charged at each other, the hooves of Panis echoing powerfully against the ground.

The lances met with a crash, wood against metal, sparks flying as the forces collided. Garlan, surprisingly agile, managed a solid strike on Jon’s shield, but the force of the impact was insufficient to destabilize the king of Artica. Jon, in turn, aimed at Garlan’s shield, his blow precise and strong enough to create a visible crack in the wood.

Turning their horses, the two men prepared for a second pass. The crowd watched, shouting and clapping, seeing that the two seemed to have an exciting and balanced contest.

“I bet 50,000 gold coins on my king.” Suddenly from the podium, Jon’s minister of trade exclaimed, hoping someone would join his bet too.

The Tyrrell family looked surprised by this, while they remained silent about it, but Mace, trusting that his son would win, agreed to it before anyone could react, especially his mother before he did something foolish. “I bet 100,000 gold coins!” He exclaimed without having the courage to see Olenna’s furious look with that, while all the nobles around were surprised by this.

“That’s great, I bet then 100,000 gold coins.” The minister smiled.

“We’re going to win 100,000 coins!” Mace said confidently.

“Father… wasn’t that a bit too much…?” Willas commented cautiously beside him.

“Of course not! Don’t you trust your brother, he will easily win this contest!” Mace spoke confidently.

“That fool will still bankrupt us before I even die this way…” Olenna muttered, but low enough for only the family to hear, after all, she couldn’t simply stop this now that her son had announced it loudly, it would show that the Tyrell family didn’t keep their word, since reputation is even more important than 100,000 gold dragons.

Meanwhile, another contest occurred as Jon and Garlan once again clashed against each other, their lances exploding on the shields as they passed by each other. Jon’s armor always had an advantage for being much lighter, besides his superior strength, he found himself dealing with Garlan easily, but he also did not want the fight to end too quickly.

A third encounter happened as the audience exclaimed with them meeting once again and a fourth happened, while they kept equal points in the contest, with the Herald shouting about the contest and getting the audience more and more excited.

In the fifth contest something changed, this time, Jon took the initiative, adjusting his lance with greater precision. As they approached, he focused on the crack in Garlan’s shield, the tip of his lance finding exactly the weak spot.

With a dull thud, Jon’s lance burst through the shield, fragments of wood flying through the air. And Garlan, caught by surprise by the force of the impact, struggled to maintain control of his horse. He leaned back, unbalanced, but, with certain skill, managed to stay mounted.

The audience exclaimed at this, while Mace frowned. “See you fool… you didn’t even notice that the Artican king didn’t even have difficulty in this contest and was just holding back…” Olenna spoke angrily to her son. “Once again we’ll lose money to the Artican king, opening our coffers…”

Garlan sighed and looked at Jon across as he prepared once again, while Jon maintained a firm stance on Panis, the judge asked them to start the sixth round and a moment later, the horses ran, while the people were mesmerized for what would happen next as the ground shook, and at the exact moment, Jon pushed his lance with more force than he had used until then. The tip found its target, Garlan saw this at the last moment aiming for some opening of Jon, he quickly tried to move the shield, but Jon was faster as he hit him on top of his shoulder, with him finally dislodging from his mount and falling heavily to the ground.

“Victory is for Jon Artica!” The herald exclaimed while the crowd exploded in applause, surprise, and admiration for Jon Artica’s victory over the melee champion, who was also one of the favorites.

Jon circled the field calmly while Garlan rose, aided by his squires. Despite the fall, the young Tyrell offered a smile acknowledging Jon’s skill. Jon approached and dismounted from Panis, Garlan raising his hand in a gesture of respect.

“Seems I must ask… Can I ask for a ransom for my armor?” he said, maintaining a small smile behind his visor.

“Of course, we can talk later, Ser Garlan.” Jon spoke and began to walk away shortly after.

“Here is Lady Arya…” Renly once again handed a bag of money to Arya, who smiled as she took it. It wasn’t such an exorbitant amount as Mace Tyrell had bet, with him having to bow his head to his enraged mother at that moment, but still, Arya was enjoying earning money from Renly.

The sequence of the tournament again in the quarterfinals, began with Loras and a famous knight, which ended up being a victory for the prince’s champion after 4 rounds.

Jon was not long in being called after that, as there were only 2 contests after Loras before he was called. He ended up facing a famous knight, who clearly wanted to win his armor, but was prevented with Jon knocking him down in the third round, while the Artican minister continued betting on Jon with many nobles and earning even more money.

Now it was the semifinal and the people who disbelieved in Jon began to see him with different eyes, leaving the audience even more excited about the final, as everyone now expected Jon with Loras. Loras achieved his victory against a knight who came with Renly and Jon contested against a powerful knight of the reach.

But that did not prevent Jon from knocking him down in the seventh contest, breaking his shield and hitting his chest, with him falling back hard against the ground. “THE ARTICAN KING IS IN THE FINAL!” The herald shouted as everyone stood clapping seeing this happen.

Jon nodded and returned to where his men waited to take care of Panis, as he dismounted, “Take care of him and have him ready until the match begins.” Jon requested and returned to the podium, despite it being the final, it would still take a while, after all, these people like to glorify things and wanted to make the last contest very interesting with some theatrical piece.

It led to the herald talking about the two men and the contest even more extensively than at the start of the tournament, with Renly always smiling at it while Jon joined his wife, with Arya exclaiming everything that had happened while he was away and the money she had negotiated.

“Now let’s wait 30 minutes before starting this powerful contest!” The herald shouted as Jon and Loras each stood on their podiums, to eat some fruit and prepare for the contest.

After 20 minutes had passed, Jon left the podium and Loras did the same. “Good luck, Jon!” Seryna wished this to her husband.

“Go on, Jon! Finish him!” Arya exclaimed.

When the sun reached the middle of the sky, the herald made his call with pomp and circumstance. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are moments away from the grand final of this spectacular tournament! Gather to witness an epic duel between the Artican King, Jon, and the Gallant Loras Tyrell!”

Loras then emerged from one side, with a rose in his mouth, displayed his impeccable and confident posture, attracting glances of admiration and single ladies, shouting for him to ask for their favor. But as always, he rode up to the Tyrell podium, where Margaery was waiting with an embroidered handkerchief, the house symbol stamped on it. With a charming smile, he accepted her favor, carefully securing it to his armor.

Jon, in turn, entered the battlefield with the sound of clapping, went up to Seryna, who held a similar favor, a small piece of fabric adorned with the colors and the emblem of Artica. He took the fabric reverently and tied it to his arm, the couple exchanging an intense look of trust and love, before Jon headed to his side of the tournament field.

Jon and Loras positioned themselves. They adjusted their armors and visors, preparing for the contest that would decide the champion. The trumpets sounded, and an anxious silence fell over the crowd.

The herald then shouted, “Release the horses!” and in response, both horses’ hooves resonated across the field like thunder in the next moment. Jon and Loras charged towards each other, their lances pointed with precision and the initial clash was thunderous, the weapons and armors clashing forcefully, yet neither of the two yielded. They passed each other, turned, and prepared for another charge, picking up new lances from men waiting at the end of the field.

“Get him, my king!” A royal guard spoke as he handed over the new lance.

The audience had clapped as soon as both clashed, but fell silent a moment later waiting for them to exchange another blow to see if someone would be knocked down, but the contest continued balanced, with them once again clashing with their lances and shields, colliding and shattering.

The audience screamed louder than ever, as they went into the third round, the contest becoming even more intense. “20,000 gold coins? How about that?” Arya exclaimed to Prince Renly, who looked at her for a moment, seeing a chance to recover everything he had lost that day to the young girl.

“Alright, Lady Arya, 20,000 gold coins,” he spoke with a smile while people around admired such a high bet.

“As far as I know, your father wouldn’t be proud of his daughter betting like this…” Seryna commented to Arya, since Lord Stark was not a man who liked bets and would certainly disapprove of his youngest daughter acting this way.

“I’m making a lot of money, that’s what matters. Didn’t Jon bring me here to learn about trade?” She exclaimed while Seryna sighed at the somewhat rebellious behavior of her sister-in-law.

“100,000 gold coins on my king, anyone wants to challenge?” A voice emerged beside them, with Jon’s minister exclaiming.

“I bet!!!” Once again, Mace, with the unbeatable illusion in his sons, shouted to the challenge, while his mother looked at him with a glare that could kill him by the end of the day.

In the third encounter, they galloped towards the center once again, Jon adjusted his lance, aiming at a specific point on Loras’s armor. At the last moment, with skill, Jon slightly deviated the lance, catching Loras off guard and hitting the shield with an impact that resonated across the field, while he tried to remain firm in his saddle, leaving everyone who bet on him with their hearts skipping nervously at that moment. Although he seemed almost falling, he continued holding firm, regaining his position.

The fourth round was a clash, but after the third round, everyone saw that Jon did not seem shaken even once, which made the crowd start to believe that he would win this while Renly sweated cold and Arya had a mischievous smile.

The fifth contest came and once again both exploded their lances and shields having to exchange them as soon as they reached the end of the field, the sixth contest once again gave Jon a certain advantage while Renly had some difficulty stabilizing and didn’t even manage to hit Jon.

“If he doesn’t knock down Jon Artica, he’s going to end up losing on points after these contests…” Olenna said with a furrowed brow.

“I think Loras is going to lose this one…” Margaery commented with some fear, despite having eyes of admiration for Jon, and her gaze returned to Seryna on the other side, wanting to switch sides for a moment, after all, every woman would like to become the queen of beauty and love in this place.

The seventh and eighth contests resulted in a technical tie while both walked to the last round, with Jon ahead due to his points gained above Loras before. Loras was breathing irregularly as he looked to the other side, while the man atop that burnt yellow horse and eldenmetal armor prepared for the last round.

“I need to win this now… for Renly… for my family and for my honor!” He murmured, determined to win the battle.

Jon picked up his new lance from an Artican man and calmly looked at his opponent across the field. “I’ve drawn this out long enough… it’s time to end this…” Jon said while firmly positioning himself on his horse, adjusting to knock down his opponent once and for all.

The entire audience was even more mesmerized, with no one able to breathe due to the contest that would finalize the great wager and move rivers of money among the nobles, after all, it was not only the great nobles who had bet.

The herald seemed nervous as well, trying to stay neutral, despite favoring Loras, the lord of his house. He turned to the crowd and began to exclaim. “Ladies and gentlemen, nobles of Westeros and distant lands beyond! We have reached the climax of our grand tournament, the moment everyone has awaited with bated breath and burning hearts! Prepare to witness a legendary clash, a confrontation of titans that will be sung by bards for ages to come! On one side, we have the indomitable Artican King, Jon, whose prowess and strength have reverberated through the jousts like the roar of an ancient northern wolf! And on the other, the eternally gallant, the champion of many hearts and tournaments, Ser Loras Tyrell, the very essence of chivalry and grace in Westeros! Both supreme warriors, both undisputed champions, now face off on our sacred field in the battle where everything will be decided! May the Seven guide us in this battle, may the ancient winds whisper their names! Now, to the sound of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the call of destiny, let the final contest begin! The horses are ready, the shields raised, the lances sharpened! May the best win and glory crown them!” he exclaimed and everyone waited in the same state.

Jon and Loras prepared themselves, their gazes fixed on each other, as sharp as a Valyrian steel sword. The flags on their lances fluttered in the wind, each representing their house and kingdom. Then the judge finally gave the signal.

The horses burst forth, Panis was faster than ever and everyone was surprised to see him reaching Loras much quicker than the horse he was riding.

As the distance between them lessened, the tension rose. Both knights adjusted their lances, pointing them precisely. At the last second, Jon tilted his lance slightly downward, aiming at a vulnerable point in Loras’s armor that he had noticed in previous rounds.

Loras saw this and tried to adjust his shield while maintaining his lance aimed at a more vulnerable point he believed Jon had, and a moment later, the impact resonated like thunder through the arena. Loras, caught off guard while hitting Jon’s shield but not penetrating it, felt the same with his, but the difference was that his shield had been broken at that moment while the lance continued its path towards him with the force of Jon plus the speed of Panis being greater than Loras.

The audience held their breath as Loras simply left his saddle, struggling as the lance continued pushing him backward. But physics was relentless. With a muffled scream drowned out by the crowd, Loras was thrown to the ground, falling heavily. The silence was broken for an instant, before being replaced by an explosion of acclaims and cheers.

Jon pulled the reins, stopping Panis, who snorted and shook his head, equally stirred by the adrenaline of the encounter. Dismounting, Jon walked over to where Loras lay. Extending a hand, he helped the fallen knight to stand. Loras, regaining his breath and despite the fury he felt for losing, accepted the help and stood up.

The herald, recovering from the initial shock, proclaimed with a loud and clear voice: “The winner of the tournament, by merit and bravery, the Artican King, Jon!” The words echoed through the place as the official victor.

The crowd around the field buzzed with the emotions of Jon’s victory. But not everyone was happy, as in the noble stands, a group of lords and ladies conversed with varied expressions of triumph and disgust:

“I knew it, knew from the start that the Artican King would come out on top! He was holding back the previous day!” exclaimed a younger noble, clearly pleased, while counting a handful of gold coins.

Beside him, a lady with a fan, trying to hide her frustration. “And to think I bet almost everything on Loras… Oh, how could I have been so foolish?” she murmured.

A group of nobles had a somber appearance, murmuring among themselves. “This tournament has ruined me… I bet on Tyrell. Now, how am I going to explain this to my father…?”

At the main podiums, young Stark was visibly euphoric with Jon’s victory. She clapped tirelessly along with the audience and couldn’t contain a victory scream.

“I knew it! I knew Jon would win!” Arya exclaimed, turning to Seryna and the others around her with a triumphant smile. “Did you see that? He was incredible!” Arya then looked at Renly, with a somewhat challenging smile. “So, Prince Renly, it looks like I’ve won another 20,000 gold coins, haven’t I?”

Renly, despite having lost a significant amount of money, maintained his composure for Arya, though somewhat forced. “It will be yours as soon as you ask one of my men to take it to your camp,” he said, but his face soon darkened as he remembered that he would owe vast amounts of land to Artica at this moment.

“It seems the Artican King is a man full of surprises,” he said in the end, unable to hide his furrowed brow, while Arya didn’t care about that, just happy about the money won betting on Jon.

Meanwhile, the matriarch Tyrell was visibly displeased; she sighed heavily, worried about the financial repercussions and the blow to her reputation from the defeat, even though not paying what she bet would be seen as worse, still, it was a significant money loss at this tournament.

“Of all the foolish things you’ve ever done in life, Mace, this was the most reckless,” Olenna murmured to her son, her voice low but laden with disapproval and fury. “You’ve not only gambled away our coins but our luck with them.” She might have told him to learn something from this, but the fool seemed a complete idiot, only hoping that Willas would know how to guide their house after him.

Mace was clearly shaken, his expression switching between a fake smile for other nobles and a scowl when he turned his attention back to his mother. “Mother… I’m sorry… I thought my children would win…” he said quietly.

As Loras left the field frustrated, Jon returned to Panis and mounted again, heading towards the Judge who was waiting with a crown of flowers in hand, after all, he still had to award it to someone.

It surprised no one when he began walking towards the Artican podium and everyone expected him to give his crown of beauty and love to the woman he gazed at with such eyes. However, as soon as he approached and kissed his wife, he turned back to the audience.

“My wife, Seryna Artica, will always be my queen of beauty and love, but today I intend to name someone different, why not my sister, who deserves something like this!” Jon exclaimed while placing the crown on the head of his stunned sister.

“This is your punishment for betting there; our father would not approve of something like this…” Jon spoke softly while Arya finally looked at him, stunned.

“But you…!” She didn’t have time to finish as the explosive sound of applause echoed through the venue, with Arya being declared the most beautiful woman by the tournament champion. Seryna didn’t mind at all and clapped for the girl.

Arya was lost, not liking the attention at all, as she didn’t enjoy being the center of attention for ladylike matters but rather for her military skills.

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Raccoon Here:

We will have the last chapter of the Reach in the next one, before Jon leaves. He has one more point in Westeros to go, which is Lannisport, but he will visit Oldtown first.

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