Chapter 60 - Jousts.

[Chapter Size: 2900 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Harrenhal, 101 AC.

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Jon watched his grandmother disappear alongside the two guards. She had said she would make the men swear an oath. Using his raven, Shadow, brought from the North, he managed to observe her from a distance.

Lyarra made the two men swear to remain absolutely silent about everything that had happened. In the end, she gave each of them a gold coin. They both left in high spirits, and the fright they had carried already seemed much smaller.

Jon was a little confused. He didn't know exactly what to think about it, but he didn't say anything either. He simply returned to the Starks for the rest of the day.

Lyra was the first to run over to him. "Jon! Did you see the dragon? Did you see that enormous dragon?" she asked, completely excited, since she had been unable to speak to him earlier.

"Hard not to," Jon replied, remembering the gigantic head that had been only a few inches from his own.

"That is no reason to celebrate, Lyra," Lord Stark said in a firm tone. "People could have died."

The girl lowered her shoulders, becoming much less enthusiastic. "That's true. Father is right. A lot of people got hurt..."

"And the festival ended much earlier than it should have," Rickon commented dejectedly.

"In any case, none of you may leave the camp. The guards are patrolling the entire area, trying to calm everyone down. The dragon is gone now, but no one knows if it might return," Lord Stark concluded.

Shortly afterward, Jon asked for permission to go check on his animals. As soon as he reached the cages, he realized they were all still badly frightened.

It was understandable. When he had connected his mind directly to the dragon's, to the point that his own eyes had turned completely white, he had lost almost all the connection he maintained with his other animals just to focus on the dragon.

Now he needed to calm them down again. Even Ghost remained restless. He had not gone to the tournament because it had not been recommended, so he had stayed inside the camp, and Jon had ordered him to remain there after the dragon's arrival. Even for him, being a direwolf, he perfectly recognized the predator that had crossed the skies.

Meanwhile, the members of the Kingsguard remained protecting the royal family, while the other soldiers spent the following hours trying to reorganize Harrenhal.

A few hours later, Caraxes and Meleys returned. Their dragonriders reported that Cannibal had flown back toward the sea, most likely heading for Dragonstone.

No one yet understood the reason for that sudden appearance.

Everyone had seen the dragon descend from the sky at some point, while people reported seeing it land on a nearby hill and lower its head among the trees.

Soldiers were immediately sent to the location to investigate and found only human footprints.

Since the dragon had simply turned its back and left without attacking anyone, the matter did not receive that much attention. Even so, they tried to discover who had been on that hill and, above all, how those people had survived such a close encounter with a creature like Cannibal.

Lyarra, Jon, and the two guards were very lucky. They had been well hidden among the trees before climbing down and blending into the crowd. If Ghost had been with them, they might have identified the direwolf's tracks.

If anyone had seen them on that hill, they certainly would have been taken to Harrenhal along with the others involved to be questioned.

And if they discovered the strange bond Jon had with Cannibal... The consequences would hardly be handled lightly.

In any case, the king summoned everyone to a dinner that night. He said the situation was now under control. They still did not know why the dragon had appeared or why it had landed so close to Harrenhal, but everyone could calm down. Such a thing had never happened before, and he sincerely hoped it would never happen again.

People became somewhat calmer, although an atmosphere of unease still lingered in the air. In any case, Jon made sure not to draw any more attention to himself. He remained silent and avoided any suspicious behavior.

The king held no more major events in the following days or summoned Jon. He seemed deeply shaken by the dragon's appearance.

Jon spent the rest of the time at the camp, training with Rickon and the other children from the North.

Then the dreams returned. This time, however, they were no longer about the dragon.

Although he knew there was now a much stronger bond between the two of them, Cannibal seemed just as bothered and confused by that connection as he was.

There was nothing Jon could do. Those strange images still lingered in his mind.

Now, however, his dreams showed a small island covered with trees and a weirwood at its center.

"Come to me." The voice echoed through his dreams. The same voice he had heard from the heart tree at the farm a few times in moments of need... Jon knew exactly where that island was.

At the center of the God's Eye, not far from Harrenhal.

"Come to me." The voice kept calling, and for some reason, Jon was certain that he needed to go there.

He went to see Lyarra that very morning.

"What are you saying? You want to go to the island in the God's Eye?" Lyarra asked in disbelief.

Jon simply nodded. He had called her aside to speak in private. "I've been having dreams," he murmured. "Dreams about that place. There's something there... calling me."

Lyarra stared at him for a long moment. Her expression was extremely serious. Then she sighed. Jon noticed that she did not seem skeptical in the slightest.

On the contrary. She seemed to believe every word he said. "All right. But wait for the dust to settle. Once the jousts are over and all the commotion about the dragon has been forgotten, no one will be paying attention to us..." She paused briefly before continuing.

"Why?" Jon asked, confused.

"You know you're being watched much more closely now, don't you? There are already rumors saying that Cannibal came because of you."

Jon's eyes widened. "No one saw us!" he replied, alarmed.

"You didn't need to be seen, Jon." Lyarra shook her head. "You have Targaryen blood running through your veins. People are going to come up with all kinds of theories until they receive a plausible explanation for why that black dragon appeared here. And one of those theories involves your blood."

Jon swallowed hard. No one could discover his connection with Cannibal. Even if rumors arose without anyone having seen them on the hill, the situation could still be managed.

But if they discovered the truth... Jon would be in serious trouble. And not just him. Everyone around him would be as well.

The Targaryens would never allow another branch of the family, especially one of bastard blood, to develop any kind of bond with one of their dragons.

In any case, the days continued to pass. Then Jon received a summons. The king wished to see him.

When he entered the king's chambers, Jon immediately noticed that the old king looked far more frail that day.

"Ah, my boy... You've finally come," the king said, offering him a faint smile.

Ghost also entered the room and settled down on the floor. The wolf was greeted by the king and Ser Ryam Redwyne, who remained standing guard in the corner of the room, while Jon sat on a stool beside the king's bed.

"Hello, Your Grace," Jon said.

"You must have been quite frightened by the dragon, weren't you?" he said. Jon merely nodded, and the king continued.

"I heard you were one of the first to realize it was coming. I think most people only looked up after Lord Stark started shouting. But I heard it was you who warned everyone that the dragon was coming."

Jon felt a slight chill run through his stomach. So they had noticed. When he had warned Rickon and Lyra about the dragon, some of the nearby people had certainly heard his words before Cannibal finally appeared. Someone had probably mentioned that they saw him when recounting the events.

"I have a certain ability to sense danger, Your Grace," Jon replied.

The king studied him for a few moments. He seemed as though he had considered saying something, but ultimately decided against it. "Well... It truly caught us by surprise. I've never seen Cannibal behave that way. He rarely leaves Dragonstone. Seeing him flying over the mainland, especially during a tournament, was quite unexpected."

Jon simply nodded. He did not want to give his opinion on the matter, much less draw even more attention to himself.

"In any case... Could you sing for me, my boy? Your voice is always a fine remedy for an old man like me." Jon smiled and nodded.

He was just about to begin singing, as he usually did, when the king raised a hand. "Today, it won't be just your voice..." He smiled. "I have something for you."

The king looked toward the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Ser Ryam Redwyne walked to the corner of the room, picked up a carefully crafted wooden box, and carried it over to Jon.

"I had this made for you." Jaehaerys said, and Ser Ryam opened the box in front of Jon after the king's words.

Inside was a magnificent lute, richly decorated with golden details and carved with extraordinary craftsmanship.

"Your Grace..." Jon's eyes widened in disbelief.

"It's yours, my boy. Now you can accompany that beautiful voice of yours." The king smiled with satisfaction.

Jon accepted the lute with the greatest care, as though any sudden movement might break it. His eyes wandered over every detail of the instrument, admiring the flawless workmanship.

Then he rested it on his lap. He tried plucking the strings. At first, his fingers seemed clumsy. But as the first notes emerged, something strange happened.

The melodies began to flow naturally. His fingers moved with precision, as if they had known that instrument for many years.

It was as though he had been born to play it.

"You never told me you knew how to play." When the melody ended, Jon slowly stopped and heard those words from the king.

A sharp pain flared through his fingers. He looked up and found the king watching him with obvious curiosity.

Ghost was also watching him calmly, as though he had enjoyed the music. Not even Ser Ryam Redwyne took his eyes off the boy.

Jon looked down at the lute again. Then he turned back to the king. "But... I've never played this before."

He swallowed hard. He truly had never touched any instrument before. He had only started singing because the king had asked to hear some music. He had never had the courage to perform for anyone other than his animals, but the king enjoyed listening to him, and Jon understood that.

Even so, he had never imagined he would be able to play an instrument. It made him happy. But at the same time... How did he know exactly what to do?

His eyes dropped to his own hands. They were burning, and Jon had already noticed it. His hands were not accustomed to the friction of the strings. Trembling slightly, Jon began blowing on them before shaking them gently to ease the pain.

The king watched all of this in silence. It was the clearest proof that those hands had never played a lute.

And yet, somehow, the boy knew the melodies. Jon took a deep breath, recovering a little before looking back at the king.

"I think I can play something a little gentler." Even with the pain, he felt he could continue. He only needed to choose a song that demanded less from his fingers. At the same time, the joy of playing seemed to outweigh the discomfort.

The king simply nodded, curious. Jon returned to plucking the strings. Soon his voice joined the melody. The music once again filled the entire room.

Then the door slowly opened. A little girl entered, drawn by the music coming from the room as she passed through the corridor. She stepped inside, staring at Jon with eyes shining in wonder.

"Oh... Rhaenyra. You're here," the king said when he saw his great-granddaughter.

"Grandpa!" the little girl exclaimed, running toward the bed.

She tried to climb up, and despite being far too small, she managed it. Then she stopped and turned all her attention to Jon, completely captivated by the music.

"Did you like his song?" the king asked.

The little girl simply nodded. "It's so beautiful..."

Jon kept playing until he felt his fingers could take no more. Their tips were completely raw.

He could barely touch the strings anymore. "I think that's enough for today," he said, lowering the lute.

"Of course." The king smiled. "My great-granddaughter ended up joining us while you were singing. It seems you've gained a new admirer."

Jon looked at the little princess. She smiled shyly at him, and Jon smiled back. He stayed a while longer talking with the king and the little girl of four namedays before finally leaving the room.

The tournament's jousts would resume a few days later. Jon hardly let go of the lute after receiving it.

Whenever he returned to the camp carrying the instrument, curious looks and questions were inevitable. But all he had to do was start playing. Every question disappeared.

Day after day, he continued practicing. His hands became more and more battered, to the point of bleeding. Even so, every morning he woke up with them completely healed.

Then he would injure them all over again. Until, a few days later, the skin finally began to toughen.

The strings no longer hurt him as they had before. The strangest part was that Jon kept playing songs he had never learned.

Songs he had never practiced. Even so, he could play them naturally.

He knew it was probably because of the dreams. He also remembered that the man who appeared in those visions played a lute.

It became common for people to gather near the tent just to listen to him play. Soldiers, servants, and nobles would sit nearby. Others would simply stop for a few minutes before continuing on their way.

Even the animals seemed to enjoy the melodies, quietly gathering around Jon whenever he began to play.

Rickon had already started calling him "Jon the Bard," constantly teasing him with the nickname. Lyra loved it and would join Jon. Even Princesses Rhaenyra and Laena would stop by during their visits to the king to hear him play, and the king himself seemed quite pleased to see him practicing.

When the jousts finally began, the finest knights of the Seven Kingdoms entered the lists. Jon remained with the Northerners, watching as only the competitors who had distinguished themselves in the first round or in the melee continued competing in the elimination rounds.

Daemon also displayed great skill in the jousts, but he was ultimately defeated in the round of sixteen by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who proved himself to be an impeccable representative of the Crown.

There were knights from both factions, each representing, more or less openly, the factions of the two claimants to the Iron Throne.

Daemon, naturally, represented his brother's side.

Some knights from the Stormlands, because Rhaenyra's mother had been a Baratheon, the late Princess Jocelyn Baratheon, dedicated their victories to Princess Rhaenys, demonstrating support for her claim. Meanwhile, many of the champions from the Reach, the Westerlands, and those directly tied to the Crownlands, with the exception of the Velaryons and a few other houses, made a point of honoring Viserys, maintaining a far more neutral stance.

In the end, only the knights of the Kingsguard remained in the competition. Without much surprise, Ser Ryam Redwyne won the tournament.

As Queen of Love and Beauty, he crowned his own sister. It was an extremely neutral decision. Had he chosen either of the princesses, he would have strengthened one of the factions before all the assembled nobility. As Lord Commander, he had to remain impartial.

In any case, a few days later Jon finally received permission to go to the God's Eye. Lord Stark had not liked the idea in the slightest.

Even so, he eventually gave in to his mother's insistence. Rickon also insisted on going, and after much pleading, he was granted permission as well.

The official reason was simple. They would take the opportunity to visit the Isle of Faces and its weirwood.

Although it was surrounded by rumors. Tales of the Green Men, the children of the forest, mists capable of driving travelers mad, and ancient spirits that protected those lands kept most of the local inhabitants from daring to approach the island.

Jon set sail that very morning. The small boats moved slowly through the mist that covered the God's Eye.

He did not know exactly what he would find there. He only knew that the calls in his dreams had grown stronger and stronger.

Something continued to call to him. As always, his very existence seemed to defy all logic. It was as though the Old Gods were forever playing with his fate.

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