[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]
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Pessoa Thrid POV
Westeros, 295 AC.
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Jon followed Renly to the Tyrell garden to have a conversation, while the family members remained cautious and Renly did not seem very well equipped to handle it. Jon walked calmly as they approached an open tent set up exclusively for them.
Renly seemed to break the silence finally after regaining some of his composure from what had happened. "Arctic King, please sit," he said, while Jon nodded. Jon, Renly, Willas, and Garlan sat, while Loras stood beside Renly like a faithful squire. The Arctic men and Tyrells stood at a distance.
"Do we have to stand here watching them talk?" Tormund complained beside the other royal guards.
"Yes, Tormund, that's our job, remember?" One of them mocked. Despite finding it a poor task, he remained silent, accepting it.
Returning to the table with the Westerosi nobles and the King of the Arctic, Renly continued speaking with a friendly smile to Jon. "So, Lord Jon... Your men are very well trained... I didn't expect to see Ser Boros lose like that," Renly commented.
"It's true, that's a great advantage of the Arctic, we have powerful warriors, my guard is trained to withstand all kinds of possible conflicts," Jon said.
"That's admirable, I've heard you handle a sword very well too, even achieving great victories against Ser Garlan, that's admirable," he said with an expression suggesting it was something grand.
"I thought I was the best until I met the Arctic King's blade, it's no wonder he even defeated the Red Viper and, according to rumors, cut his face," Garlan decided to add some praise to his words.
Although Jon found that kind of talk nauseating, as if they were courting a maiden, he still nodded. "You are exaggerating, Ser Garlan, you are also a great warrior and would do well in the Arctic arenas," Jon said.
"Arenas?" Renly raised an eyebrow as Willas and Garlan looked at Jon.
"Not as you think, we don't have slaves to throw into pits like the nobles of Essos do in the slave cities of the southeast continent," Jon said and continued. "We have spaces where our warriors can prove their skills against the best in front of all the Arctic people," Jon said.
"That sounds like a great show, do you have championships like our tournaments?" Renly asked, excited to see the conversation flowing after all the initial confusion.
"We don't have jousts, but hand-to-hand combat and archery are among our many games," Jon said.
"What other kinds of games do you have?" Willas was interested, hearing this for the first time.
"We have games that test the command of our men, we can rank many promising leaders and tacticians with them," Jon said, describing events where two teams face off with non-lethal weapons while devising the best strategy to confront each other.
"We also have chariot races where we race around the arena structure, commanding horses. It's a sport where we have two horses pulling a cart while they race to reach the finish line first," Jon said.
"Like carriages?" Garlan asked, a bit confused by this sport he'd never heard of before.
"You could say that, but much faster. Unfortunately, despite being a popular sport... we still don't have many horses for the competition," Jon said.
YOU ARE READING
Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic - ASOIAF/GOT
Hayran Kurgu"This is the first time I've ever written, decided to translate this fanfic and finish it." Jon Snow, a boy destined for a life of contempt by almost everyone around him, but a divine intervention can change everything. The boy who will pave the way...
