he had zero memory of what had happened. the last thing the penniless bard could remember was red. everything was in red. he thought perhaps he had taken something he shouldn’t have, but there was something very real on the side of his skull that rang with a pitch he could hardly recognize. fair eyes fumbled to adjust to the bed that he found himself in, shocked to see his wife standing over him. wait, no. it wasn’t his wife. the brief invigoration that he felt upon seeing her faded as she remained mute despite his movements.
she turned his head to the side and jon could see a damp rag being placed over where his ear was supposed to be. there was blood on the cloth as she retreated it, he suddenly felt panic hit as he jolted up. frantically, with shaking hands, jon moved to touch his face. he could feel the swollen skin beneath calloused fingertips. they moved to his ear, and he nearly vomited at the realization that nothing was there.
the lord stark had apparently fallen out of consciousness again and when he woke this time, the woman was talking once more. but he couldn’t hear her. he couldn’t hear her. jon’s mouth moved but he couldn’t hear the words coming out, tears welled up in his eyes as it pieced together. his breathing quickened and he felt the world shake as the panic became very visceral. he still had no memory of what happened as he screamed into the air and the woman struggled to contain him. another woman, wearing less clothing burst in to try to assist the other. small hands tried to keep him down but the bard jutted against them. eventually, another woman came in, this time carrying rope as he was strapped down. after a few moments of screaming, jon stark slumped down, deaf, defeated, and tired.
in the day that followed, he lost the restraints and reverted into a silent fetal position. almost as if he were a child. he scanned his memory for anything that could help him figure what happened. that is, until the madame came. she explained that he had a debt and while he had no money, he paid with his talent. jon had wished he had never known what had happened.
part of him had wished he signed up to fight in the hand to hand, but as he watched the savage skill displayed before him he was actually rather glad he did not. he knew he wasn’t fully whole after being ill, so he would have already been at a disadvantage. “gods be good, i hope the rest of the day is as well fought,” the mormont lord said as the crowd dispersed. “how long until the joust… or is it the sword fight that comes first?”
oh he was drunk, and then he was some on top of that. “b-b-bannen! banny boy!” jon laughed and slapped the other man on the back. “aye, i know not of the schedule but i think i can point you to the women, yes. or wine. or both. ever drank wine off the tits of a whore? it is fascinating.” his head was foggy and he might have confused bannen for someone else. “wait, aren’t you a competitor? somewhere?”
ah yes, the golden boy had made his appearance at last. jon had found out he was a lannister and he was in charge of the very men jon was deeply concerned with avoiding at all costs. not only was his line of work illegal, but jon was clever enough to not get caught. at least, he thought he was. he took a long drink from the pouch secured at his side as he sauntered over to the other man. he was larger than jon was, and usually jon would be attracted to him. but he was far too serious to interest him. “tell me, lord? prince? lannister? what are you, anyway?”
it hadn’t been midday yet and jon was already on the ground, his cheek resting on the hot dirt as his shirt was torn. his dark hair was disheveled and his eyes were cloudy but his clothes were at least still on. and his lyre hadn’t been shattered. the day was off to a good start, it seemed. jon was hopeful. he rolled over onto his back, his eyes wincing as the sunlight beamed off the woman’s hair. it was as if a piece of glass was placed above him and the sun was shining through to burn his flesh. jon groaned and placed an arm over his eyes. “how is your hair so bright? i can’t be that drunk.”
surprisingly enough, jon was able to recognize the spunky brunette rather quickly. it was weird, jon never recognized anyone, even his own family. the moment made him feel joy, which was only fleeting when he realized he was nowhere near as intoxicated as he wanted to be. jon didn’t like remembering things, after all. he marched up to her and looked down at her before bopping her on the head. “little dancer girl, you look like a fruit tree. are you enjoying yourself?” he laughed for a moment before patting her head where he just bopped it. “aren’t you a little young for all these parties?”
he was supposed to be hyping some lord up to the crowd. but jon decided to smoke instead. he was probably going to lose his legs if the smith didn’t win everything and jon was concerned as to why he would be so dead set for a man he could barely remember the name of. so, the bard reserved himself to smoking through a haze to navigate his impulses. perhaps it was his brother’s presence that bothered him. jon would never be enough for the stark clan, save for his twin and wylla. but they were deeply concerned with some kidnapping that was happening. this made sense to him, but jon didn’t know how to process any of the situation. he was a grown man, there was no doubt about that, but he was easily a child in the ways that he handled emotions. though, many would argue he didn’t handle them at all. he took a long drag before extinguishing the flame and looking at the ginger lady near him. “oi, shouldn’t ya be up closer to the events? cheering for some bloke? nothing but me an’ the animals back here.”
jon fumbled around the dragonpits for awhile trying to figure out exactly what was going on. he had made a number of covert deliveries and it was a good day for business. however, he couldn’t help but sweat at the massive (drunken) bet he had put on the blonde smith. perhaps he should have gone for golden boy instead. jon peeped through the back bits of the tournament grounds, looking for the familiar scorched skin and hardened abs of the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. his nerves seemed shot to pieces upon a mere glance at him. he could feel the shaking in his voice already welling to the top. “say smith, got a minute?”
willem groaned again as the man slapped him on his back. he could feel his whole body starting to ache already. “i think i might have been spreading a little too much love which is what has gotten me in trouble.” he sighed. forgetting the name of someone who he just spent the night was certainly not one of his finest moments. that was for sure.
“ahhh, fuck the wrong person? been there, mate. ended up married once, best decision of my life. who hurt you, anyway? get their face? i just about know everyone crooked in this town. of the commonfolk that is.” jon had no idea what he was saying, in fact, he hardly knew anything at all. “they rob you? ah. they robbed you, didn’t they? can you remember anything at all? maybe golden boy captain, commander, whatever can help ya out.” jon still had no idea what he was saying.
“Lannist- Oh for the Seven’s sake, why bother?” She huffed, narrowing her eyes at him. It was then she noticed that his eyes weren’t focused on her face. She followed his gaze down before gasping and glaring at him with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “I pity any poor woman that you would call a wife!” She snapped at him, the action entirely out of character for the young Lannister- but she had never been spoken to in that manner before. “And I have half a mind to let you get yourself in some stupidly drunken accident- but my brother does not need a dead Lord in his Keep.” She huffed and straightened her dress before walking forward. “So come along and try not to trip over your own feet.”
“frustration looks good on you,” he joked before her words about his wife struck him and he nearly collapsed into himself as tears welted in his eyes. he somehow managed to keep walking but he croaked a sob. “i left her there, she was the most beautiful woman in the world and i just left her. she probably married some other bloke. lucky bloke. my li is a good woman. i only knew her for one day, but she was great.” jon wiped his face on his now dirty sleeve before swatting himself back to normal. “she doesn’t even know she’s a lady, yeah. i forgot to mention that part. my pseudonym on travels is johnny bucket. do you ever pretend to be someone else, lannistitty?”
Jon always had held a mixture of brutal honesty riddled with amusement when he’d spoken, and it was nice to see that nothing had changed. “Well, I’m certainly glad that we can come to a compromise.” Giving his arm a gentle squeeze as they began to walk, Persephone couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “I like to think he’s more like a flower then you think. Nice to look at but the thorns always take you by surprise.” She was just grateful those thorns hadn’t truly been turned against her. “Enough about me though - clearly you didn’t travel south with the Starks. Would you enlighten me with your adventures?”
“naw, that sounds like a shrubbery. king of thorns? no. king of shrubbery. the kind you put at a higher level next to another shrubbery to get a two level effect. with a path down the middle.” jon nodded at his geniusness. it was hard for him to be so gifted and so careless, but it kept for an interesting look at life. he thought for a moment at her question. he wondered if he should tell her the truth. “sailing around the east with merchants. learning to be a man on a ship and all that. how’s the flower patch?”
“It is my first drink of this bottle.” Wylla responded with a particularly Jon-esque face. It was somewhere between attempting to be serious and know that no one would believe her anyway and a laugh. “I seriously suspect I shouldn’t move about at all. I will fall down.” Wylla giggled again. She looked up at the roll he was smoking. “What is that? It smells like a fucking skunk.”
“it is a gift from the old gods that our east friends have found to be a miracle. but it does not go well with multiple bottles, sister,” he warned, pointing at her with a serious face. he knew he could hardly convince a sober wylla to do anything, let alone a drunk one. “but ya know, you’re not getting in any trouble on my watch tonight. but you’re obligated to tell me what you’re runnin’ from at some point, miss.”
Her eyes widened slightly, she had not expected him to say that - and then he flopped down like a ragdoll. Honestly, the queen wished that she could just turn away and escape before he caused a scene. “Maybe you should sit down before you hurt yourself,” she suggested. Gods, how much had he drunk? Despite taking a liking to ‘the dragon with no scales’, she also realised it was not proper. “Most people simply say ‘your grace’ or ‘my queen’, I doubt the lions will appreciate such a nickname, but I suppose I like it.” A few stares were on them and she wanted to sink into the ground, but if he really was a Stark, she could not so easily turn away. “No, I have never been to the North, but I would like to someday - even if all they got is a fancy tree,” she replied honestly.
“your grace, the dragon with no scales, that seems fitting. your lot likes the long names, yeah?” he scratched his head as he blinked at her. he tried to remember home, and unfortunately he could still smell snow. no matter how he tried to drown out the memories of a place that never seemed to fit him, jon was still haunted by the ghosts of winterfell. “i prefer the lands of the east. different people, different tastes. the north is far too constraining, your grace, the dragon with no scales.” he wanted to run at the thought of home, but an idea popped into his swirling head. “they say dragons can’t burn, yeah? what about ice so cold it burns? are you immune to that, too? do they test that on you as a babe?”
willem groaned as he walked away from the small tussle he’d gotten into, holding onto his nose.“oh gods…” he muttered, turning towards the other nearby. “does it look that bad? be honest.”
“what in the old gods’ cock have you gotten yourself into mate? you look worse than me in the mornings,” jon laughed before slapping the stranger on the back. “what did you do to make someone that angry? spread cheer and love, my lord. not hate.”
