Ch 47 The Best in Westeros... Part 2

Both of them moved briskly through the Great Keep of Winterfell, taking shortcuts along the way, so that, except for the occasional greetings, they didn't run into as many people. It wasn't long before they reached their destination—the old but well-furnished smithy of Winterfell that stayed hot year-round, regardless of whether it was winter or summer.

However, instead of entering it, Jon bypassed the larger smithy without a second look. "Huh? Aren't we going in there?" Sam asked in confusion, pointing towards the smithy.

"No," Jon replied in a mysterious tone without looking back, "We're not going there but here," he said while pointing towards the much smaller smithy right next to it that seemed as if it had only just recently finished construction. Unlike the bigger smithy which was a bustling place with its constant sound of clanging of metal on metal, the smaller seemed to give a desolate feel.

Sam was quite confused as to why they weren't going into the main smithy where they would probably get the good stuff. Even though he had only been here in Winterfell for less than a year, he knew that Mikken was considered the best Blacksmith around here, so he thought they would go to him, but now...

'Maybe, Mikken's busy...' Sam thought as he followed Jon as he entered the door to the smithy. It wasn't as small as it seemed from the outside, and looked like a smaller version of the bigger smithy.

It was equipped with various tools such as anvils, hammers and tongs, but there was a stark difference between this and the older smithy. This place lacked the cluttered mountain of tools, armour, and weapons waiting to be repaired, which meant that they didn't get as much work.

There was only a single forge on the left side that was roaring with fire and a huge blacksmith was in front of it trying to stimulate the fire and increase its temperature further. There were two doors leading to additional rooms in here one on the opposite side of where they were and one on the right side, besides which there was a huge stack of ores lying in the corner.

"Tom," Jon called after he saw that the man didn't hear them come in.

"Hmm..." LittleTom turned at his name being called and almost immediately his face lit up when he saw who had arrived, "Jon! You're finally here."

It was only when the man turned around and stood up that Sam realised that he was actually sitting all along. He involuntarily gulped and stumbled back when he craned his neck to look at the man as he rose to his full height.

It was completely absurd, this man was almost two heads taller than Jon who was already considered a tall person. He had read stories that giants lived among the common people in the North some centuries ago and that there were giants still alive beyond the wall but...

"Sorry for being late, Tom," Jon said while patting the boy on his shoulder which he could barely reach, "I was stuck with something—Oh!" he stopped mid-sentence when he realised that Sam was stuck standing at the door with a pale face while looking at Tom with fear in his eyes, "Come on in, Sam. Don't worry, he won't hurt you and no, he's not a giant..." Jon chuckled while beckoning him.

Jon knew what was going through the boy's mind, in fact, it was the same thing that would go through anyone's mind the first time they saw LittleTom. The boy didn't go through puberty; puberty went through him. He was already tall enough before but now... as far as Jon knew, the only person in the North taller than him may be the Umber Lord, and even that wouldn't be for long as he was still growing.

Seeing that he grew up every few months that he saw him, Jon had jokingly asked him if there was any connection between him and the Umbers. And it was then that the boy had shyly confessed that while he didn't know for sure since his grandmother had never confirmed it. He knew that he had never seen the face of his grandfather and that his grandmother was a cook for the Umbers.

Knowing those facts and the non-existent restraints of the nobles in this world Jon didn't need anything further to connect the dots.

The blood of the Umbers may not be the only one... another reason for his unusual height that Jon could think of would be that being a Warg somehow simulated his body growing up more than usual. After all, even Jon was a lot taller than his canon counterpart and the only major difference between them was that he was a warg.

"Is he the one who needed the axe?" Tom asked with a gentle smile towards Sam which finally released the tension in the boy.

"Yes, this is Sam, the one in need of an axe," Jon nodded while looking around, "So do you think you have one ready that he could wield."

"I do. Raul!" he shouted towards the door beside the haphazardly laying ores, and almost immediately the door opened and a teenager came out with a piece of cloth in his hands, "Raul take Sam here and show him all the axes that we have..."

"Yes, Master Tom," Raul nodded while placing the cloth with which he had been polishing the weapon in his pocket while opening the door to the armoury and beckoning for Sam to follow him.

"Go on, Sam," Jon said to the hesitant boy, "Choose the one you're most comfortable with. I'll wait here..."

Only after Sam had gone in and was completely occupied with choosing his weapon did Jon turn to Tom, "Let's go."

LittleTom nodded and led Jon towards the other door in the smithy which was his personal room that only he had access to.

The room behind the door was a big but simple one with a large bed, a large desk, and a small window. Tom gestured for Jon to take a seat before he kneeled in front of the bed and took out a sword as well as a small notebook from under it.

"This is for you... the best I've been able to make until now," Tom said while handing Jon the bastard sword.

"Hmm..." Jon scrutinised the sword very closely, making sure to check every aspect of it from its sharpness to its sturdiness to its balance. Having seen all kinds of weapons made by the best blacksmiths during his travels, Jon was quite a qualified judge, "How close is it to 'his'..."

"About two-thirds, I think..." Tom said after pondering for a while, "I was only able to see him make this kind of sword about three times so there are still a few intricacies that I am having trouble imitating..."

"So you didn't have much luck over this period of time, Huh..." he said while placing the sword on the desk and taking the notebook from him next.

"Sadly no," Tom shook his head with a sigh, "He didn't get too many orders during the time that I've been watching him. So, while I've been able to copy most of the normal techniques that he had taught his apprentices, those secret ones—the ones he keeps to himself... I've only been able to take a glimpse of just a few of those," he said, pointing towards the notebook filled with vague processes, time stamps, and complicated numbers involving metal moulding.

"It makes sense," Jon nodded with a furrowed brow while looking towards Tom, "After all, Tobho Mott... that man is the best that King Landing can offer, so he probably charges the money that is equivalent to that which means that not a lot of people would be able to afford him,"

"That is indeed the case. He barely got three small orders during the whole of last month and except for when he teaches his students, he spends the rest of his time overseeing the smithy, so I think it'll still take a while before I am able to take everything from him."

"Maybe not as long as you think," Jon suddenly said with a cheeky smile while patting Tom's shoulder.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"There's soon going to be a tourney in King's Landing thrown by our very own Robert for his son's name day or something. Anyway, this means that there would be a lot of wealthy nobles attending so this may be the best chance for you."

"Really! T-This is perfect," Tom exclaimed with an ecstatic expression, he had been waiting for something like all this while.

"It is. So you need to be ready to give it your best as this chance may not come again anytime soon."

"Don't worry," Tom boasted while patting his chest confidently, "I've been practising very hard all this time. I can warg now for almost five hours with some breaks with my crow so I'll steal all his techniques no matter how many they are."

"Very good," Jon said satisfyingly, "And be sure to pay close attention to see if he gets any Valyrian steel order, even if the chance of it happening may not be much... After all, he's our only source of Qohorik smithing techniques until you are able to expand your range or we are able to get you to Essos."

"Don't worry, I always keep a watch out for them."

"Good and that is not the only good news I have for you," Jon said with a mischievous expression while pulling out two pieces of paper from his breast pocket.

"These are..." Tom said while quickly glancing through the papers that seemed to contain some form of various kinds of directions towards different places.

"All of these are directions towards the best weapon and armour smiths available in Westerlands as well as the Reach. After all, while Tohbo may be the best in King's Landing, he is not the best at everything,"

Different places in Westeros are best known for different kinds of things. For example, the lances and spears of Reach are known as the sturdiest while the Westerlands are the ones best known for their smooth and intricate armours that feel as if they are clothes. "So you need to be prepared for the hard work ahead because I won't stop until I turn Winterfell into the place where the best weapons and armours of Westeros are made...."

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To read ahead you can go to: pat*eon.c*m/lazywizard