Northern Conqueror

Chapter 17: Distance

Chapter 17: Distance

"Come on," Laul said dragging Sansa through the halls by her hand. "Let me at least give you a proper lesson for once. Let them see you training with the rest of us. It's only right now you're letting your girls train as well."

"That was Jon's decision," she said with a frown. He hadn't consulted her on that, or anything else lately.

"And it was one of his best yet," Rila said with a grin. "Smarter than any kneeler before him if he's the first to think of it."

Sansa laughed. "I doubt he's the first to think of it. Just the first to make it known he expects it."

Making their way to the training yard she heard the clang of steel and saw a small crowd gathered. Her stomach twisted, not surprised that when they moved around to find Jon with a blunted sword in hand. He held up his shield to block blows from Rickon swinging his own blunted sword at Jon with a grunt for every thrust and slash.

"Come on, lower. Don't go where I am, go where you want me to go, where I'm open."

Rickon groaned when Jon brought his shield forward, knocking Rickon's sword back. "You don't have openings!"

Jon laughed. "You know that's a lie, but if you don't think I do then make them. Force one for yourself."

She watched Rickon throw his shield aside, gripping his sword with two hands and putting more power into each strike. He barely got his third out before Jon lightly thrust his foot into Rickon's stomach, making him stumble back.

"If you're going to fight two handed you can't be angry. Without a shield you need to be twice as careful, twice as sharp. Everything you do has to be offense and defense."

"You're never angry in a fight?" Rickon asked wiping away the few bits of mud Jon got on his jerkin.

Sansa noticed him glance toward two free folk girls stood watching, two girls Jon told her were the daughters of a free folk chieftess who died at Hardhome. They'd come with Tormund, who seemed to care for them, leaving them at Winterfell with Jon. The sisters stood with some of the younger residents of Winterfell, including Lyanna Mormont who arched her brow, her gaze more on Jon while the elder free folk girl flashed Rickon a brief smile.

Jon chuckled. "I'm always angry during a fight. I just control it. Angry men are dumb men more often then not, but if you control it then you can use it. Let it make you stronger, push you through pain and exhaustion." Seeing Rickon's frustration, Jon walked over to squeezed the boy's shoulder, leaning in slightly. "You can do this. It just takes time, but keep it up and people will fear you with a sword more than they do Ghost. Though he looks ridiculous with a sword."

Rickon laughed, as did half the crowd while Jon backed away and waved for him to attack.

Watching him twist and shift to block Rickon's attacks, Laul let out an appreciative, "Mmm."

"He isn't too bad for a kneeler," Rila said, grinning as she continued, "wouldn't mind showing him how I look kneeling."

Sansa gasped. "Rila!"

Laul nodded. "I'd rather see him kneel."

"Hopefully his last wife trained him well," said Rila.

Sansa turned to her. "What? His last wife?"

Rila nodded. "Back when he was a crow he took a free woman, shared skins with her. Tormund talked about it. He was a green boy until Ygritte got to him."

Jon caught Rickon's sword on his shield, but Rickon thrust his shield to Jon's stomach, making him take a step back to avoid it. That was when Rickon dashed forward, letting his sword slide up Jon's shield, set to slam into Jon's cheek if he hadn't moved his head at the last moment.