Debate #65

In the Castle Black training grounds, Gale steadied his breath, clutching the steel longsword with both hands, his gaze unwavering on Dolorous Edd, who held a bow at the ready. Edd regarded Gale with a troubled expression.

"Are you sure about this, Gale?" he inquired, his tone tinged with nervousness. "There are other ways to die, you know... ones that don't necessarily end with me dangling in the gallows for murder," he added in jest.

Gale rolled his eyes. "Stop fretting like a little girl and just shoot the arrow already, Edd," he retorted. "I have no intention of dying. The arrow you're using has a blunt head, and I'm wearing armor—worst-case scenario, I'll just get a few broken bones," he dismissed Edd's concerns with a wave of his hand.

"Alright, you asked for it, you bastard," Edd muttered, scowling as he notched the arrow and took aim. "Don't come crying to me later!" After steadying himself, he released the arrow, sending it hurtling straight toward Gale's torso.

Gale braced himself, his grip tightening on the sword. Swift as lightning, his hands moved with incredible speed, flicking the blade to the side and deflecting the arrow just before it reached his chest.

Nodding with satisfaction and a hint of smugness, Gale was about to revel in his successful maneuver when the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted him. Turning, he saw Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister walking toward him.

"Impressive," Jon acknowledged, his gaze moving between Gale's sword and the arrow on the ground. "I've never seen anything like this before."

Gale chuckled at Jon's admiration. "Is deflecting an arrow with a blade really so impressive when a big shield achieves the same result with none of the risk or effort?" he teased.

"There's a reason you've never seen something like this, you know," he added, shaking his head, his tone tinged with amusement.

Turning his attention to the newcomers, Gale addressed them directly. "Anyway... you're Lord Stark's son, Jon, aren't you? And you are Lord Tyrion Lannister?" he inquired, his eyes alternating between Jon and the diminutive noble.

Tyrion nodded in confirmation, while Jon greeted him with a formal gesture, placing a clenched fist over his chest and bowing slightly, much to Gale's confusion.

"Yes, my name's Jon Snow, Lord Gale," Jon introduced himself. "I've come to join the Watch, though I only received my cloak yesterday. I've been assigned as Lord Mormont's personal steward."

Gale couldn't suppress his laughter. "I've been called many things—boy, lad, oathless freeloader, kneeler, crow scum—but this is the first time someone called me 'lord,'" he said, highly amused.

Turning to Edd, he teased, "Did you catch that, you bastard? I might need you to start kneeling and referring to me as 'my lord' whenever you see me from now on!"

Edd chuckled and performed an exaggeratedly formal bow. "I'll kindly pass and ask you to go fuck a goat, my lord," he replied in a mock-polite tone, causing Gale to burst into more laughter.

Gale then turned to Jon with a thoughtful gaze. "Being assigned as Lord Mormont's steward on your very first day... Nepotism sure is convenient, isn't it?" His words held a touch of irony, and he shook his head slightly.

Jon maintained a composed expression, showing little reaction, while Tyrion's brow furrowed in response to Gale's comment.

"What makes you say that?" Tyrion questioned, his curiosity evident. "Do you believe that serving the Lord Commander is too big an honor for my friend here?" he prodded, his eyes narrowing.

Gale shrugged casually. "Not at all. I expect your friend will excel in the role based on his upbringing and education as a highborn and the son of the Warden of the North," he explained calmly. "However, I'm certain you could find other equally if not more, qualified individuals if you searched diligently—this, my friend, is the epitome of nepotism," he remarked, shaking his head lightly.

"Not that I personally hold anything against it, but I reckon many of our brothers might have a gripe or two about such preferential treatment," he concluded.

Jon wore a bitter smile. "I would have preferred to be assigned as a ranger and learn under my uncle, but I had no say in the matter," he explained earnestly. "My intention is to serve the Watch with honor to the best of my abilities, Lord Gale," he added, his tone resolute.

Gale offered an understanding smile. "I have every confidence that you'll do precisely that. And again, I harbor no objections about your role or you as a person. Consider my words as a friendly heads-up and nothing more," he clarified. "And please, spare me the 'lord' title," he continued, rolling his eyes playfully.

Tyrion chimed in, skepticism is evident in his tone. "So, you take issue not with Jon specifically but with highborns in general?" he queried with a scoff, his skepticism apparent.

Gale, taken aback by Tyrion's hostility, gave him a puzzled look, genuinely bemused by the sudden tension. Nevertheless, he shook his head lightly.

"Let me answer your question with another," Gale interjected. "What, pray tell, sets you, a highborn, apart from an ordinary village peasant?" He posed the question, not allowing Tyrion the chance to interject.

Tyrion's expression shifted to a frown, caught off guard by the sudden question.

"For someone like me... I'd argue it's my knowledge. As for individuals such as Jon and his elder brother Robb, I'd say it's their skill in combat and their foresight in strategy," he replied, his confidence growing as he spoke.

"It's the reason why the common people follow our lead and why we're entrusted with ruling them," Tyrion explained, his conviction unwavering.

"So, essentially, it all narrows down to education," Gale mused, his tone tinged with a hint of fascination. "As expected, someone of your stature, Lord Tyrion Lannister, clearly benefits from the bountiful libary in your father's castle and tutelage from exceelent mentors paid with Lannister gold."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment, a wry smile playing on his lips as he listened intently.

"On the other hand," Gale continued, gesturing loosely with his hand, "a simple peasant might live a full life and die, never having laid eyes on a book cover," he said with a nonchalant shrug, emphasizing his point.

"Likewise, it's only natural for Jon to outmatch a peasant in single combat since he's wielded a blade since childhood and had the best combat instructors in the North, whereas his opponent may have only handled a rake or a pitchfork," Gale continued.

"But imagine if the common folk had the same education and training. Would it be outlandish for one to be more knowledgeable than you? Or to be as formidable, if not more so, than Jon?" he queried, his tone thoughtful.

In the bustling training grounds of Castle Black, Tyrion's countenance shifted to one of contemplation upon hearing Gale's words. "There's wisdom in what you say, but that's a dangerous line of thought... one that might lead to a swift hanging," he cautioned, shaking his head.

"You'd do well to guard your thoughts on this matter, especially in the company of other highborn nobles," Tyrion advised his tone grave.

Gale let out a hearty chuckle. "What threat does a pampered highborn noble pose to me?" He chuckled lightly. "I could spend the entire day listing the myriad ways I could put any trouble-seeking noble in their place. However, I don't have the time, and I reckon you didn't come here for a mere chat," he added.

Jon interjected, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. My father requested your presence as soon as possible... it appears to be of significant importance," he conveyed.

"Is that so?" Gale raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Then let's not keep Lord Stark waiting any longer," he said, gesturing to follow Jon toward their destination.