A Feast For Dragons

Jon

The hour that it had taken him to get to Ramsgate brought the dawn. There were moments when his vision would blur from hunger and exhaustion, but Jon carried on, holding the leather reins tight in his hands. There were times when he thought he could feel the cold, but when he tried to, there was nothing. His breath was a puff of white smoke and so was the mare's, but even through the harsh winds of the winter, he felt warm.

It wasn't long before he could see the gates of Ramsgate. It appears that the name of the small town was rather accurate. On each side of the gate were large ram's carved out of wood; they stood on their back legs, facing each other, with their horns touching, to make an archway that lead into the village. Passing the Ram's Gate, Jon trotted towards the stables, slipping off his mare and letting the stablehand take the horse.

"Boy, where can I find a tavern?" Jon asked, fixing his coat the best he could. He still had no shoes, and that seemed to raise some concern with the boy-what kind of fool wore no shoes in the North?

"Up the street, m'Lord." The boy said. "The Hanged Maiden's the best tavern in the North."

Jon smiled softly and nodded his head. If he had coin he'd give some to the lad. "Thank you." Turning away from the boy, Jon made his way up the street. Mud and snow caked his tired feet, and by now he was sure that the blisters had all popped and the bottom of his feet were leather.

It wasn't hard to find the Hanged Maiden-it had a portrait of a literal Hanged Maiden on the wall. It appeared everything in Ramsgate was quite literal when it came to its names. Pushing the doors opened, Jon ignored the stares he got and made his way towards the bar. He sat on one of the stools and ran a hand through his dirty curls.

"Anything I can get for you, handsome?" The woman behind the counter said. She was young, with curls of fire and bright green eyes. Her skin was pale and splattered with freckles. She wore a long white and grey dress, the sleeves reaching her wrists, and an apron.

"A glass of mead, please." He said, leaning against the counter.

"Coming right up."

Jon watched the woman grab a mug, filling it to the brim with dark liquid, before setting it in front of him. "Anything else?"

"I... Would like some information." Jon asked as he cradled the mug in his hands. He wasn't sure if he wanted to drink it or not; his belly was relatively empty--all he's had to eat were barriers and the occasional hare he could fine--and the mead would be of no help.

"Oh? Looking for a brothel? There's a fine one-"

"No. Not a brothel." Jon cut in. "I'm looking for a man."

The woman became silent, frowning softly. "A man?"

"Aye. He's around-" Jon raised his hand off the mug, putting it more or less at the height that Robb was the last he recalled. "yea high. He's got reddish brown hair and big blue eyes. He usually had this beard-"

"That'a sounds like Petyr Vesli, the blacksmith." A man sitting not too far from him said.

"Shut your face, Bomor." The woman snapped. She looked towards Jon again and shook her head. "Beg pardon's, m'lord, but there ain't nobody by that description here. Drink your mead and leave." The woman turned and left through the back door, leaving Jon rather surprised.

Of course, he didn't believe her for a second. He passed the mug towards the man that had helped him and patted him on the back. "Thank you." He said, before slipping out of the tavern in time to catch sight of the woman running down the street. He began to follow after her, being careful every time she looked behind her. He would duck behind walls and carts of hay when she turned, making sure to keep an eye on where she had gone. She took some twist and turns, but he never once lost her.

They reached a forge that had seemed to be burning all night and the woman burst in through the front door; Jon stayed outside, but lingered close enough in an attempt to listen in on what occurred inside.

"M'lord!" The woman said as she moved through the forge until she found who she was looking for. "You must leave, m'lord. There's someone here looking for you."