Game of Dragonborn.

Chapter 54 - The time in Winterfell is over, but before that...

[Chapter Size: 2700 Words.]

Third Person POV.
Winterfell.

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"This was so easy..." Jon's voice broke the silence as he looked down at the man who had attempted to duel him, now lying lifeless on the ground. Silence enveloped the training courtyard of Winterfell as everyone struggled to process what had just occurred. They had just witnessed a man throw a sword with such speed and precision that, upon striking his opponent, it pierced through armor and embedded itself directly into the heart.

It was something no one had ever seen before, nor could they have imagined possible, yet now they had seen it done by a man standing before their very eyes. Be it the king, the nobles, or even the assembled men and women of the crowd, all gazed in stunned disbelief. Some women immediately covered their eyes and screamed at the sight of the sword striking the knight, unable to look at the fallen man lying on the ground.

Sansa Stark was one of them. She had hoped to see the knight uphold justice against the man who had challenged the prince of Westeros, expecting a gallant fight where the knight would triumph, as in the stories she loved. But reality was crueler than she had imagined.

The gazes quickly shifted to Jon, one by one, filled with doubt and questions. "How did he do that? Who is he really?" In the end, no one could believe that a bard could wield a sword like that.

"Well," Jon said with a grin, ignoring the stares fixed on him. "I suppose since I've won, I won't be punished. But if you'd like to send someone else, go ahead. You can even pick a member of the Kingsguard."

He openly mocked, his eyes glancing at the prince, who was being tended to by the maester while the boy's mother, furious moments ago, now comforted him. Even they seemed stunned as they looked at Jon.

Joffrey, for his part, was incredulous. He had refused to go back inside the castle before the duel, eager to see the bard killed brutally by the knight. Now his eyes reflected pure shock and fear.

"Enough of this!" The king's thunderous voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. "Damn it! How did you do that? I've never seen anything like it!" Robert Baratheon exclaimed, rising from his seat and glaring at Jon.

"It's not my preferred style of fighting, but it's effective for quickly dealing with overconfident men," Jon replied, almost as if mocking.

"That was anything but honorable." Ned Stark's voice sounded beside the king.

Jon raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by his uncle's reproachful tone. "We can't always get what we want, Lord Stark," he replied with a faint hint of irony.

"I don't know where you come from, but here in Westeros, we don't fight like that," Ned reprimanded again, his tone stern.

"Don't be such a bore, Ned! A fight is a fight. And I see nothing unfair when both start on equal footing," King Robert retorted, clearly less devoted to honor than the Lord of Winterfell.

But Jon seemed to ignore the king, keeping his gaze fixed on his uncle. He knew what Lord Stark had done in the past—killed an unarmed man after he had been stabbed in the back, like what had happened to Arthur Dayne. The irony was glaring, and Jon almost felt like throwing it in his uncle's face, but he restrained himself, settling for a mocking smile.

Ned, realizing it would be pointless to argue further, simply sighed and said nothing after hearing his friend. The king, meanwhile, turned his attention back to Jon, now wearing an expression that mixed fascination and curiosity.