Wayward King - 012 (Patreon)

Chapter 012 – 'The Last Of The Giants'

[289 AC – Winterfell]

“A pair of wooden daggers, a shortsword, a double-headed axe, and a warhammer?”, Barik repeated the order, looking far down at the small boy due to his considerable height, his long hair tied behind his head, “Five copper stars.”

Jon looked at the carpenter that he had come to find in winter town with a frown as he thought about the price demanded by the latter. He knew that five copper stars were a high price but not an entirely unreasonable one.

Though this was still more than half a silver stag considering that a single silver stag was worth seven copper stars. Forty copper pennies for some wooden training weapons, Jon thought seriously about this price for a moment since his savings were indeed limited.

He didn't care much for money in general, even in his last life that had been the case, but he knew that his future was uncertain and money could often turn such uncertainty into certainty. No matter where he planned to go, he wouldn't get far without a dime to his name.

Making it a habit to throw money away was also simply a bad idea, not considering any future plans. Still, paying for needed services was not a loss.

“I will give you five copper stars if you can make the daggers right now, including sheaths. The rest has to be ready tomorrow afternoon.”, Jon eventually answered, stating his conditions, “I will pay you two copper stars now, the rest tomorrow when I come by to get them.”

"Can't do tomorrow, lad.", the carpenter shook his head, "I will make your daggers now but there are other orders that need my attention. I will need two days."

Hearing the answer, Jon thought it over for a moment and nodded, knowing that he had no real use for the warhammer and axe at the moment anyway, given his limited strength. And he had already registered the shortsword in his main crystal.

The daggers were the training weapons that he was most eager to get his hands on since he could train with them even in the privacy of his room as he didn't need much space for that. And since they would be ready today, Jon had no complaints.

“I will get right to it then, lad.”, Barik laughed with a smile, his large hand patting Jon's shoulder with the delicate touch of a hammer striking hot metal, causing him to grimace as his bruises ached, “You can wait over there.”

Seeing the corner that Barik pointed at, Jon went there and sat on a wooden box, not wanting to stand in the way of the craftsman while he went to work.

Quietly listening to the sound of sharp edges carving wood, Jon thought how he would have liked to get himself a pair of real daggers. His uncle though would have never allowed it since he was still too young for real steel in Lord Stark's eyes, as was Robb.

Not to mention that such an order would have been at least ten times as expensive and Jon knew that Mikken wouldn't even have taken him up on the offer as the man knew that his uncle didn't approve.

Jon also didn't want to ask Orik, the castle's carpenter, to make him his training weapons. He felt more comfortable asking this of Barik since the latter had probably no idea about his identity, and even if he had, he didn't care.

Orik might have had questions about his reasons for the order, which Barik evidently had not.

Roughly an hour later, Jon walked out of Barik's shop, a pair of wooden daggers in sheaths hidden beneath his coat, a yawn escaping his lips as he did so. He had fallen asleep while waiting, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him, though the carpenter woke him up easily enough by simply giving the crate he had slept on a kick.

As tired as Jon was and yearned to crawl under his furs and sleep, he had another destination still.

Quickly moving through the muddy roads of winter town, snow falling slowly but relentlessly, he moved back in the direction of the wooden bridge that led over the moat and through the castle gates.

He looked around as he moved and found that the town already seemed much more lively than during summer. With the beginning of winter, people came to winter town for protection, warmth, and in the hopes of being fed by the Lord of Winterfell in case their own supplies ran out.

Jon remembered that his uncle once said that there was enough space to house over fifteen thousand people in the town but feeding them all was a whole other matter.

Winter town stretched along the southern and part of the eastern side of Winterfell, small houses built from logs and rough stone stood in neat formation around the castle, separated by only the moat. Jon was currently walking through the marketplace, which was located directly outside the main gatehouse that guarded the gate to which the wooden hanging bridge that was suspended over the moat led.

Barik's shop was just around the corner, in an alley that led to the marketplace, which was filled with wooden stalls and people haggling over goods or peddlers calling out to attract people to their stalls. There was also a large well in the middle of the marketplace, which Jon passed by as he moved to the gatehouse.

The main gate was in fact the south gate since it was the largest gate, allowing three horses to travel side-by-side and enter Winterfell. It opened up to the training courtyard, which made it easy to house a larger number of troops inside the castle if necessary.

When the guards and others went out of the castle as hunting parties though, they usually used the west gate, which was also known as the Hunter's Gate.

The east gate, on the other hand, was also known as the Kingsroad Gate since it directly led to the kingsroad. Its size was only marginally smaller than the main gate but it wasn't left open during the day like the main gate.

Only merchants coming from White Harbor would usually frequent it, as well as visiting Lords that came with a smaller procession since the gate opened up to a smaller courtyard that was adjacent to the dilapidated First Keep, the housing of the guards, and the Great Keep in the far corner.

The northern gate on the other hand was rarely ever used, and Jon only remembered his uncle Benjen passing through it when he traveled to Winterfell from the Wall on the occasion. Though the other members of the Night's Watch had always used the east gate during their rare visits.

The guards spared Jon barely a glance as he passed by since they recognized him as Eddard Stark's bastard, so he didn't have to face any sort of questioning before walking back into the castle. This was one of the benefits of being labeled a 'highborn bastard' as most people would not spare him too much attention.

In comparison, Robb would have never been allowed to leave the castle without a guard since he was too young to walk around alone. Similarly was true for Jon but sneaking out was much easier for him since people were not so attentive to his movements.

There also wasn't someone to reprimand him for sneaking out since his uncle wasn't in Winterfell and the household guards just shrugged it off. They might report his doings to Ser Rodrik but that was basically the extent of their interest in his doings.

Quickly walking along the stone path that led around the training courtyard, Jon took to the left when a fork appeared in the stone path, avoiding the path that led back to the Great Keep as he steered towards the Library Tower.

There was a duo of guards stationed at the entrance of the tower, considering the importance and value of what was inside the old stone monument. Still, no one had ever attempted to steal or destroy the books and scrolls within the tower in the last few decades.

Nevertheless, it had to be guarded. But from what Jon had heard, the household guards were using this guard shift as betting stakes since it was such a 'relaxing' task that didn't require them to stand on the walls all night, freezing and trembling in the cold.

Either way, the two guards were only there to make sure that no unknown party entered the tower so Jon had no problem passing by them. Pushing open the heavy wooden door with leather on its rims that served to seal the entrance and keep the weather out, he entered the tower.

The entranceway was a short corridor with another protective measure in the form of a thick curtain, which Jon likewise pushed aside before finally laying his eyes on the large wooden shelves and the hundreds, possibly thousands of books.

Winterfell was thousands of years old and so was its library, which could be seen by the vast amount of knowledge collected here.

It was quiet except for the crackling of burning wood in the large fireplace, the smell of fire and mold suffusing the air.

Jon had no idea where to begin looking for what he sought but thankfully someone seemed to have taken that into account since right beside the entrance a ledger was placed on a wooden stand.

It was made out of wood with letters branded into it so that it wouldn't have to be replaced every now and then like all the other paper books that tended to rot, which meant someone had to copy and replace them.

For this purpose, his uncle would invite a couple of scribes from White Harbor every few years and place them under Maester Luwin's command so that this could be taken care of.

Looking through the ledger, Jon wasn't surprised that most of the entries were about history. Quickly finding what he had been looking for in the ledger, he started to look through the shelves.

Seeing that the books that he was looking for weren't on the first floor, Jon climbed up the round stairs that were built along the outer wall and ascended to the second floor. There he searched for another half an hour before finally finding what he had been looking for.

'A Vestige of Rhoynar – The Princes And Princesses Of Dorne And Their Bannermen'

'Birthplace of Chivalry – The Reach And Its Rulers'

'Land of Storms – The Last Storm And the Rulers That Came After'

'A Lion's Valor And Cunning – History of the Westerlands And Its Rulers'

'…'

'…'

'…'

'…'

These eight books along with 'The Kings Of Winter And Their Bannermen – Noble Houses of the North', which Jon had already read, were informally known as the 'Chronicles Of Westeros' and all of them had been written by Archmaester Archwin some thirty years ago.

Subsequently, another Archmaester by the name of Sewyn had published additions to these great works that supplemented those books with the more recent history considering the great changes that Robert's Rebellion had brought to the Seven Kingdoms.

Maester Luwin had told Jon about them earlier in the day after he had asked the elder man if Archmaester Archwin had written any more books about the rest of Westeros since they would come in handy when increasing his 'History' skill.

Fortunately, those books had been procured by Maester Walys, who had served House Stark before Maester Luwin. The latter had then urged his uncle to procure the additions written by Archmaester Sewyn to 'update' the chronicles with the most recent history.

Looking at these eight books laying side-by-side on the table near the shelf that he had taken them from, Jon didn't hesitate long before he willed the activation of his Crystal Library while touching the books one by one and seeing them disappear like melting light.

He was rather stunned at this blatant display of a supernatural force but quickly shook off his awe as he smiled, knowing that the next upgrade to his memory was not far.

Turning around, Jon left the second floor and the Library Tower altogether as he returned to the Great Keep, ready to climb under his furs and just sleep to recover from his exhaustion.

Once in his room though, Jon saw the newest addition to his furniture, a small table just in front of the window between his bed and the fireplace.

Glad that the Maester's promise of a table to study at had already been fulfilled, he took a few minutes to rearrange his belongings, placing the blank notebook, slips of paper, ink, and writing feathers on the table before finally stripping out of his clothes and climbing into bed after making sure the fire was burning fiercely.

It took hardly more than a minute before sleep took him, his exhaustion evident.

…

"Jon? Jon!", a somewhat forceful female voice broke through his veil of sleep, a gentle nudging waking him up completely.

Jon opened his eyes and he saw Alyssa's warm hazel eyes staring down at him with worry and affection, her hand brushing through his locks before she quickly pulled it back.

“Alyssa?”, he questioned, still half-asleep, “What's going on?”

"You didn't come to the Great Hall to have your supper, that's what is going on.", the servant maid spoke with a reproachful tone, "You are still recovering, you can't just skip a meal, Jon."

Sitting up in his bed while blinking the sleep from his eyes, grunting as he felt sore all over, he let Alyssa help him as she bundled up a few pillows behind his back with a worried look in her eyes before placing a tablet with food in his lap, which consisted of some stew with a piece of bread and some apple cider.

"Now let me look at that before you start eating.", Alyssa demanded, gently grabbing his chin and turning his bruised lip in her direction. Softly, she probed the swollen lip with her fingertips before sighing quietly as she looked at him with worried and affectionate eyes.

"Why would you let yourself get beaten like this, Jon? The guards told me that you used two training swords to fight your brother but couldn't make use of them.", she inquired with a pained look.

“It's just a bruised lip, Alyssa. That's part of the training.”, Jon replied, trying to end the topic there.

But the servant maid wouldn't have it as she frowned and gave his shoulder a more forceful nudge, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Just a bruised lip, is it?", she questioned with angry eyes before a softer look replaced her anger, "I know that you want to prove yourself to your father, Jon. But you suffering like this, will not change what is the truth, nor will it suddenly make the Lady Stark your mother."

Hearing those words, Jon's first instinct was to throw Alyssa out of his room, and three days ago he might have done so. But now he knew that she was just telling the truth and that her words came from a place of real concern and affection, so he couldn't find it in himself to hold them against her or lash out at her in anger.

Sighing, Jon smiled faintly as he answered: “One cannot become a great warrior without suffering. Nobody is born with the ability to wield a sword or throw a spear. These skills are to be earned with blood and sweat. And I will.”

“And once I have done that, there will be no one I have to prove anything to.”, he ended.

Stunned for a moment, Alyssa shook her head with a fond but sad smile, brushing through his hair once more before she rose from her seat on the bed and said: “Eat now, don't let the food get cold.”

Jon quietly looked at her back for a moment, since she had turned away to place more wood into the fire after she said those words, before doing as told. His stomach was rumbling after the first savory mouthful, roaring alive with untold hunger, causing him to wolf down the stew and bread in minutes, the apple cider vanishing just as quickly.

Sighing contentedly, Jon couldn't suppress the urge to pat his belly when he suddenly heard Alyssa's bright laugh.

“Don't do this, it makes you look like Old Tom.”, she giggled, a softhearted smile blooming on her lips, “No girl will fancy you if act like a drunk guard. You have to have manners.”

"I will try.", Jon replied, his eyes heavy as he felt sleep calling him again.

Alyssa helped him pluck the pillows from behind him and lay down again when she saw this, and the last thing that Jon saw and heard before falling asleep was her sitting by his bedside and humming the hymn of a beautifully sad song.

"Ooooooh, I am the last of the giants,

my people are gone from the earth.

The last of the great mountain giants,

who ruled all the world at my birth.

Oh the smallfolk have stolen my forests,

they've stolen my rivers and hills.

And the've built a great wall through my valleys,

and fished all the fish from my rills.

In stone halls they burn their great fires,

in stone halls they forge their sharp spears.

Whilst I walk alone in the mountains,

with no true companion but tears.

They hunt me with dogs in the daylight,

they hunt me with torches by night.

For these men who are small can never stand tall,

whilst giants still walk in the light.

Oooooooh, I am the LAST of the giants,

so learn well the words of my song.

For when I am gone the singing will fade,

and the silence shall last long and long."

…

Looking at the sleeping boy as the echo of her voice faded away, Alyssa couldn't help but lean in and leave a kiss on his forehead, brushing back his beautiful dark locks.

She had lied to Jon about hearing of his sparring from the guards. She had sneaked out despite her duties to watch him on the training field and had seen with her own eyes as he fell under his brother's blows.

It had taken a considerable effort from her to not run on the field and demand the training be stopped but seeing Jon rise again and again, she had known that he wouldn't forgive her intervention.

Not to mention that she herself had been stricken by his unyielding spirit. Her own son had been cruelly taken from her by a fever, and despite knowing that Jon was the Lord's illegitimate child, Alyssa could not help but see her boy in Jon, believing fiercely that her beautiful little bundle would have grown up to be as handsome and brave as the dark-haired boy.

It hurt her heart to see Jon suffer as people isolated and despised him for something that he had no control over only to minimize the option of risking Lady Stark's disfavor. Alyssa didn't care for it though, she was a woman of the North and made out of something much harder than any southron Lady could ever imagine.

She cared for the boy and she saw the yearning for a family in his quiet grey eyes every time that she looked into them, recognizing the look from her own eyes. And if nobody was going to show him the love and affection of a mother that he so clearly craved with all his heart, she would.

“Sleep well, little giant. Tomorrow, the world will be yours again.”, Alyssa whispered as she pulled up the covers a bit more before quietly leaving the room with the wooden tray and used cutlery.

[A/N: So again, first of all: Alyssa will not, nor will she ever be a romantic interest for Jon!

To be honest, I had not even thought that I would develop her character as far as I already had, she was supposed to be nothing more than maid appearing once or twice. Now though, things have changed.

As you all probably guessed, she is like a surrogate mother to Jon, having lost her own child years ago, she feels drawn to this lone and quiet boy wandering the halls of Winterfell. And while the 'original' Jon would most likely not have been able to accept her affection with the uncertainty looming around the topic of his birthmother, this Jon is different.

He knows that his real mother is dead, passed away on the day of his birth. And it is this certainty that makes him feel much more lonely than the 'original' since he knows that there is no such thing as 'finding his mother'.

Alyssa's selfless kindness and warmth come to him in a time when he most needs them, and he accepts it, seeing her as the only one to really care for him as child without anyone.

Jon doesn't trust Eddard even though he understands his reasons for keeping quiet since his life as a bastard is anything but pleasant. He can never again see Eddard as his father, their relationship having changed fundamentally.

There is more complexity to it but I won't get into that now since the story will reveal all that eventually.

Enjoy!]