Who Let the Wolves Out? Pt. 2

It took them the rest of the day to gather the tools and giving instructions to the men. Tyrion told the boys that they would need to ride out early the next morning if they wanted to get a good start. He forced the boys to retire earlier than they wanted to. Jon felt that given the proper motivation, Tyrion could be quite a fearsome personality.

At the dawn of the next day, the mixed troop of Stark and Lannister men rode out of the Red Keep. The guards and staff were quite puzzled at seeing the procession. Some hurried inside of the keep to various directions, no doubt that they were getting the information to their respective masters. Arthur was leading the Stark men as their captain. He had worn a half helm which had covered the upper portion of his face, while his beard covered the lower part. They were convinced that as long as he didn't look anybody in the eyes and thus exposed his own purple eyes, nobody would connect him with the legendary Sword of the Morning.

Robb and the others rode beside Tyrion and Jon and amusedly listened as the two debated among themselves the possible way Prince Joffrey Velaryon flew on the back of Syrax on his way to the Dragonpit. Each pointing out one place of significance or other just the egg their debating opponent on about who was the better versed with history. They dismounted as they reached the Hill of Rhaenys. The Dragonpit laid in ruins, most of the rubbles were caused when Dreamfyre crashed into the dome-like roof of the building. For the past hundred and fifty years, the place was left the same dilapidated state as it was afterwards of the Dance.

"Do you think we could find the heads of the dragons, My Lord?"

"No Jon, those were removed to the Red Keep. After the Rebellion, His Grace had them removed from the Throne Room to under the passages of the keep."

Jon smirked, "You know, Lord Tyrion, that is next on my list to explore – the passages under the keep."

Tyrion laughed hearing that "You took His Grace's suggestions literally, didn't you? Now you want to poke around for hidden passages."

Robb conspiratorially said, "We are anything but very obedient to our elders – our father expects us to act this way as we are rambunctious boys…and His Grace has told us that he was just like us. We cannot do otherwise of what is expected from us now, can we?"

"How right you are, Lord Robb."

Tyrion divided the men into groups and directed them to various parts of the pit to break down the bigger parts of the rubbles and carry them out of the building. Many hands made short works as most of the rubbles were cleared as the sun reached the mid sky. They had dug out stones that were melted, which made them all wonder about the heat generated by dragon flame. It was said that Dreamfyre alone had slain most of the men that stormed the pit before she was brought down. The charred human remains were evident of the ferocity a dragon could bring down on an army of men. There were also charred and broken human remains in front of one of the lairs. Jon and Tyrion – the scholar duo, had pointed out that to be Tyraxes' lair as the dragon was said to be entombed within his lair as the front door was covered in corpses of the men he had slain. Then the back door was broken by men who were directed there by the Shepherd. The dragon was entangled by his chains and couldn't protect himself from being stabbed to death by the mob. The rusty remains of huge iron chains were proofs of the enormity of the beasts that were once housed in the pit.

Jon had asked his friends to inspect the rubbles that were being cleared as if there were indeed any dragon eggs, they would've become stone-like after all these years, thus, the men might throw them away thinking of them as mere stones. There was indeed a clutch of eggs found in a lair. The Wolfpack discreetly brought the eggs first to Jon, they knew what to expect as they had seen what a dragon egg looked like beyond the pictures in the tomes as each of them had held Jon's dragon egg in their hands. Jon took hold of the bronze and green eggs in his hands expecting them to be alive, but to his dismay, none of the four eggs they had found was alive. He felt nothing other than a feeling of death and decay that emitted from the eggs. He shook his head sadly at his friends, the eggs were nothing more than coloured stones now.

Tyrion was beyond happy when he was presented with the eggs. He felt vindicated after years of ridicule from his father and sister and mocking glances from others since the day he became aware of his stature. As he stood there holding the heavy sack containing dragon eggs, he tried to stem the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. He had shown to the world that he was something more than an 'imp', or in his sister's words – a demon monkey. He carefully laid the sack down on the ground and looked up seriously at Jon, who was standing before him.

"Jon Snow, I thank you for the honour you have brought to me this day. Whatever you may need in life, you have only but to ask. You have a Lannister's words." He extended his arm to Jon who grabbed it with his own.

"I didn't do anything with the expectations of any kind of reward, My Lord."

"I know, young Snow. You are noblest of all us bastards."

"You are not a bastard, My Lord, you are a trueborn son of Lord Tywin." Jon frowned.

"Every dwarf is a bastard in their sire's eyes, Jon." Tyrion let out a sad chuckle.

Jon tried to lead the conversation to another way, "How much do you think these eggs will fetch."

Tyrion crouched down and brushed his hands on the eggs, "To my knowledge, and not to be boastful, but I am more knowledgeable than most – I believe that each of these eggs can fetch near about hundred thousand Gold Dragons, if not more than that."

The boys had their mouths wide open at the number Tyrion gave them. Jon was first to shake off the shock. He shouted for his men.

"You lot! Come here! Quick!" Tyrion frowned as half a dozen men came rushing towards them, "Form a circle around Lord Tyrion, nobody is to come near him! Protect him with your lives if you have to!" Jon barked out his orders.

"My Lord Tyrion, I am sorry but you are to stay behind these men till we reach within the walls of the Red Keep. I have faith in my men but for your satisfaction, you may order some Lannister men to guard you and the sack as well. In fact, I insist that you do."

Tyrion was taken aback at the sudden change in Jon. Gone was the lively lad with whom he had spent countless hours spiritedly debating on their favourite books, in his stead, the man who stood before him was a battle-hardened war commander. His eyes had lost the laughter that sparkled within them. The other boys too had shed off their seemingly careless attitudes and stood with their brothers-in-arms battle-ready.

Tyrion sighed, "Jon, I am sure there is no need - "

Jon cut him off in mid-sentence, "There are scores of people who know we are coming here in search of dragon eggs, My Lord. As I have trust in our men, I cannot ensure you of your safety from the greed of others. If some of them have any inclination of our success and reached the same conclusion as you of the worth of these eggs, I don't need to tell you of the risks that may befall us."

Tyrion looked at the determined faces of the four in front of him and nodded his head in agreement. He called for a few Lannister men and ordered them to stand with the men who already were guarding him.

"M'lords, you need to see this!" Arthur called out to the Northerners.

Jon looked towards where the man was overseeing the diggings, there were some excitements among them. He turned his head to Tyrion and back towards the men, he nodded as he made up his mind.

"Stay here, lads, I will go and see what Captain Eric has found. Do not let anybody come near Lord Tyrion." Robb, Asher and Torrhen reflected the steely determination of Jon's face as they unsheathed their swords and stood with straight backs. Jon gave a nod to Tyrion and went over to Arthur.

"What is it, Uncle Eric?" Jon asked as he reached beside the man.

In reply, Arthur showed him a sword. It was made of Valyrian steel and still retained its sharpness even being buried under the rubbles for over a hundred years. The leather grip had rotted away and the pommel and the crossguards were badly bent and crusted with rust, but as Jon brought it closer to his eyes, he could discern the still eligible runes of First Men etched just above the crossguard which made his eyes went wide.

"It is the Lamentation! The ancestral sword of House Royce."

[CotW]

Jaime had expected to have a spar with the lads when he woke up that morning. He was puzzled when he found that the yard was empty of the now-familiar training exercises of the Northerners. He was busy with his Kingsguard duties the previous day and stood beside the chambers of the King, and thus, was out of the hearing range of any gossip that could have reached his ears. He saw Tommen walking around the empty yard along with his guards with a sad pout on his face. He approached the boy and asked –

"What is causing the frown, My Prince?"

"Uncle Jaime!" The lad shouted in excitement at seeing him and jumped at him. Jaime chuckled as he lifted the boy in his arms and held him close to his chest.

"It's Ser Jon, Uncle Jaime, they are saying that he, Lord Robb and the others went with Uncle Tyrion to some expi…espidite…to dig up stuff from the Dragonpit." Tommen mumbled sadly to his uncle.

Jaime chuckled at Tommen's honorific for Jon. He didn't want to delve further into the topic of Jon exactly not being a knight.

"They went out for an expedition to the Dragonpit you say?" He looked askance at the Royal guard in Baratheon livery.

The man bowed his head, "Yes, Ser Jaime. Lord Tyrion went out with the Northerners to the Dragonpit. They spent the entirety of yesterday preparing for it. The keep is abuzz with rumours that they had found information of some secret treasure buried underneath all those rubbles from the tomes at the library."

Jaime put the young boy down on the ground.

"A treasure, eh? Very well. Why don't you go and spend the day with your cat, My Prince, while I go and check out this secret treasure your Uncle Tyrion and Ser Jon have dug out from the Dragonpit? I will also convey to the errant knight how he disappointed the Royal Prince by his absence." He ruffled Tommen's hair.

"Please, Uncle Jaime, don't be hard on Ser Jon. I am sure that he forgot to inform me as Uncle Tyrion dragged him off with him."

"As you say, My Prince. Now, run along."

Jaime turned to go back to his rooms at the White Sword Tower to change his clothes after Tommen went back inside of the keep in search of his cat. He smirked at the thought of an eager Tyrion dragging the lads with him if he unearthed some forgotten clues from one of those dusty tomes.

It had taken him quite a while at the Tower as Ser Barristan wanted to discuss the schedule of men during the tourney for the umpteenth time. When he finally got out of the keep, it was almost noon, he rode towards the Dragonpit and thought about his little brother. It was quite amusing to watch Tyrion blather on about some book he had read, and with Jon Snow being a like-minded bookworm as his brother, he had never seen a wider smile on Tyrion's face. He got down from his horse as he reached the Pit and went inside. Lannister and Stark men were scattered about digging through the rubbles. He smirked as he strode onwards.

"Greetings, little brother, I have come to see what treasure you have -" He stopped short seeing his brother sitting on a piece of a broken slab of stone with men from both companies standing guard around him. Robb Stark and his companions were standing in front of him with their weapons in hand. He narrowed his eyes and gripped the pommel of his sword tightly, ready to take out the sword in a blink.

"What the fuck is going on here?" He thundered as he quickened his pace.

Tyrion looked up at him with a wide smile, "Jaime! Welcome, brother."

Jaime stood before Robb Stark, who didn't move from his place to let him pass, rather, he stared back at him with a stony expression.

"You want to step aside, My Lord?" Jaime growled low in his throat.

Robb didn't move a single muscle but stared defiantly at him.

"My Lord Robb," Tyrion spoke from where he sat, "I can assure you that I am not in any kind of danger from my brother. If you would please let him pass?"

Robb looked back at him and gave a single nod, "Of course, My Lord." He turned towards Jaime and bowed his head, "My apologies, Ser Jaime." He stepped aside to let him pass but Jaime noticed that he didn't lower his guard.

He came beside his brother and crouched down, "What the fuck is going on, brother?"

In reply, Tyrion nudged a sack beside his feet with the toe of his boot. "This is the reason, brother."

Jaime carefully opened the sack to find colourful stones lay within.

"Are those…?"

"Yes, brother. Those are the dragon eggs that we found here."

He indicated the men that stood around them with their weapons in hand, "And the men…?"

"You can thank young Snow for them. As soon he heard the worth of these eggs, he insisted that the men stood guard around me to protect me from any kind of danger. He also asked his brother and friends to stand guard while he went to see what else the men had dug up."

Jaime nodded his head in appreciation, "Clever lad."

"Yes, he is also quite intimidating when he becomes White Wolf, the warrior."

As they were speaking, Jon made his way towards them, he held an old sword in his hands, the rippling patterns on the dark steel screamed of its origin.

"The day proved quite fortunate for us, My Lord." He bowed his head to Jaime, "Good day, Ser Jaime."

Jaime bowed back to him, "Good day to you too, Snow. What have you got there?"

Jon offered the sword to them, Jaime held the sword in his hands and examined it for sharpness, it was indeed amazing the way Valyrians made their weapons. Even after the Gods knew how many years the sword was lost beneath the rubbles, it still retained its sharpness of the day it was forged. Jaime handed it to his brother for inspection. Tyrion looked closely at the bent guards and pommel and frowned at the inscriptions. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Jon, this is…" he spluttered.

"Aye, My Lord. This is Lamentation, the ancestral sword of House Royce."

"It means that Gyldayn…"

"Aye, Archmaester Gyldayn was wrong in his account. Ser Warrick Wheaton didn't strike at Syrax with Lamentation, it was buried underneath the rubble. Mayhaps the Seven Who Rode came to the pit after rescuing the body of Prince Joffrey Velaryon, and tried to confront the mob, but were slain instead. I think if we search any further, we may find remains of Ser Willam Royce's armours here somewhere. Though I have doubts of it being recognizable, they were not, after all, made of Valyrian steel."

Jaime cleared his throat, "I don't think that will be quite prudent to do today, Snow. If my brother is correct, and I have no doubt that he is, and as you have already taken the precautions, we will need to move the eggs inside the walls of the Red Keep. Don't you think so?"

"Aye, Ser Jaime, you are right. Would you mind standing guard over Lord Tyrion with my brother and friends while I go and get the men ready to leave?"

"You can trust me with the safety of my little brother, Jon. Go see to your business."

Soon, afterwards, the men left the Dragonpit. The sack of eggs was securely tied to the saddle of Tyrion's horse. Jaime and Jon rode either side of him. While his brother and friends flanking the trio, keeping a watchful eye on the road and the people on them. Tyrion was excitedly telling his brother how he and Jon concluded the possibility of a clutch of eggs could be found in the Pit. Jaime, though most of the facts that his brother told him went over his head, nodded along with him. He was glad to see his brother in his element. It was something for which he was grateful to Jon Snow, none else have shown the appreciation for his brother's intellect. As Tyrion's rambling was winding down, he let out a chuckle –

"Be glad that you didn't find any green piss under those rubbles, brother."

Tyrion frowned at that, "Green piss? What do you mean by that, Jaime?"

Jaime sighed and ran a hand through his hair, he didn't want to tell this story to others, but this was his brother, the brother he had never seen so happy due to the treatment of their father and sister. Jaime always thought that Tyrion got the brains of the family, more than his fair share of it to compensate for the other members of the family. He felt an urge to tell him of his troubles, mayhaps Tyrion would understand him. A fierce scowl formed on his face as he spoke -

"Aerys completely went over the edge in his last days. He had appointed Rossart, the head of Pyromancer's Guild as the Hand of the King. The two of them had stashed caches of wildfire throughout the city." He looked up towards his brother, who had a concerned look on his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that Jon Snow had gone rigid on top of his horse.

After few minutes of riding in silence, absorbing the shocking news, Tyrion opened his mouth to speak –

"Those wildfire caches that you mentioned, when did they get to clear them?"

"They never did. I was the only one who knows about them and I thought if I left them where they are, it would just stay there and lose their effectiveness."

"What?!" Tyrion screamed as he and Jon halted their horses.

"What is the matter?" Jaime frowned at his brother's reaction.

"Do you mean to tell me that there are still caches of wildfire strewn about the city?"

"Yes?" Jaime didn't understand why his brother appeared so agitated, he waved his hand negligently at him, "But you don't need to worry about them brother, I am sure that they have lost their power over the years…"

"And I am the venerated god of teats and wine!" Tyrion roared in frustration, "By the Gods! Are you an absolute idiot, Jaime?"

Jaime frowned at his brother, never did he spoke to him in such a way.

"Ser Jaime," Jon Snow spoke with a deadly serious voice, "wildfire is an alchemical component that never loses its potency, no matter how much time have passed since its creation."

Jaime's eyes widened in realisation, "You mean…?"

"Aye, Ser, if your information is correct, then the city is literally sitting atop a pyre waiting to be lit."

*Line Break*

Treading through knee-deep muck and shit was indeed very hard – Jon thought as he had his left hand stretched out to have the support of the wall while walking forward through the sewer tunnel. Arthur was right behind him gripping his shoulder tightly, helping him to stay upright. Jon had warged into one of the thousands of sewer rats to navigate the tunnels and reach the wildfire caches. They had ridden hard for the Red Keep and almost broken through the doors of Lord Arryn's solar. Lordlings or not, that was very inappropriate behaviour and as such, the Lord Hand was a moment away to order his men to apprehend them and throw them into the gaol when they told them why they had forced their way in. The old man had gone pale as a ghost and crashed down on his chair. An emergency meeting was called in the Throne Room, Lord Arryn himself went and got King Robert to attend the meeting. When the King and the members of the Small Council heard what Tyrion and Jon found out, chaos ensued as everybody started to yell different things all at once. It took Lord Hand's every bit of patience to retain any semblance of decorum so that he can question Ser Jaime over and over to squeeze every bit of information out of the man.

While the lords debated and blustered about what to do with the dangerous situation, Jon and Tyrion had sequestered themselves into the Royal library to search for the sewer plans. Tyrion had said before that he had the experience of how the sewer system worked as his father, Lord Tywin made him responsible for the maintenance of the sewers at Casterly Rock. Though the lord had planned that as a punishment for his lecherous son, it proved to be a blessing in disguise as Tyrion's previous experience was immensely helpful for them to come up with a workable plan to deploy the men at strategic places from where they would venture down the sewage tunnels and explore every inch below ground to find the caches. They had presented the plan to the Small Council to the relief of Lord Arryn, who was fed up with the posturing lords that spent the time in useless debates but yet to find a solution. King Robert didn't help the situation with his raving and rantings of the Targaryens. The tourney itself was postponed for an indefinite amount of time till the danger passed, which was another reason for the King to show his displeasure. He had insisted to carry out the tourney on schedule but Lord Arryn had put his foot down, making the King sulk and drink some more.

A smaller council was convened under the aegis of the Lord Hand. He had chosen men who believed that action spoke louder than words. Lord Stannis Baratheon, Lord Yohn Royce, who had come to the Capitol for the tourney, Lord Tyrion Lannister, Ser Barristan Selmy were invited to this council headed by Lord Jon Arryn himself. The council had poured over the plans that Tyrion and Jon had come up with and arranged for the necessary actions to be taken. Lords Stannis and Yohn were in charge of forming parties from the men available while Lord Tyrion would direct them where to access the sewers. Smaller parties were formed with no more than five men in each group, as too many men would be detrimental if they needed to run from a hopeless situation. The acolytes of the Grandmaester were ordered to create copies of the sewage plans in lots. Valemen, Riverlanders, Stormlanders, Westlanders – all were drafted to search for the wildfire caches, captains were chosen to lead the parties from the lords who volunteered to go down in the muck. Jon had volunteered himself to lead a party consisting of the Northmen. Robb and the others were reluctant to let him go alone again in a dangerous situation. Jon assured them that he would be in a relatively safer state due to his warging abilities. Furthermore, Arthur would be with him to keep him safe. He had asked the others to help Tyrion with his charges.

Jon signalled his men to stop as the rat had sent images of some barrels just a few paces ahead. They had carried torches with so they were quite literally inching their way forward so that they didn't inadvertently set off the wildfires.

"There is something just ahead, Uncle Eric. Tell the men to stay here with the torch." Arthur relayed the order to the men as the two of them moved forward almost blindly. If it wasn't for Jon's ability, they wouldn't be able to move ahead at all, Jon watched his surrounding through the rat's eyes while directing Arthur where to go and the knight kept him upright so he wouldn't tumble down.

Slowly, they crept forward till they reached the spot the rat had indicated. Jon brushed his hands on the barrels.

"How much farther are we from the nearest grate?"

"That is quite hard to tell from down here, Jon."

"Ask the men to spread out, tell them to try and find the nearest grate. And the man with the torch should stay as far from us as possible.

Arthur yelled down the tunnel, an idea that quickly proved to be a folly as the sound reverberated within the enclosed space and sounded like an inhuman roar. The horde of rats got spooked and scurried away in fear, running all over the humans in their bid to flee. Jon and Arthur crouched down covering their faces with their arms. They could hear the startled yells of the men amidst the screeches and squeaks as the rats ran all over them, clawing and biting to get free of any obstacles. Jon had to yell again for the man to cover their faces so they didn't get injured. They had their leather armours on so their bodies were protected.

When they were cleared of the waves of rats, Jon chuckled, "That was quite an experience, eh Uncle Eric?"

The knight whispered back, "Yes, you get to learn new things every day."

Slowly they got up to their feet. Jon had lost his concentration and the rat he had warged into, had fled with its brethren. They didn't want to cause another avalanche of rats so they kept their voices low and instructed the men to spread out and look for the nearest grate. They had spent so much time down there in the sewers that the ungodly stench seemed to have lost their strength to them. Jon had previously instructed their men to have a length of rope coiled around their waists so that they didn't stray far from their companions. Soon, they had found the nearest grate and pried it open. One of the men climbed up to flag down a patrolling group of men. Tyrion had stayed back at the Fishmongers Square where they had erected a temporary command post. Patrols were sent out in short intervals on command from lords Stannis and Yohn by the routes of the sewer system, so that any of the parties that went down, could call for help. After a while, more men climbed down and stood in a row as they carefully carried out the barrels above ground.

It took them over two weeks to finally clear out the 'green piss' as Ser Jaime had called them. Many had fallen ill from the stench and rat's bites as they too encountered hordes of rats fleeing from the loud noises. The Maesters and their acolytes ran ragged to provide cures for them all. A scare of plague had made its round among the men that were bitten by the rats, but the Maesters assured them that they had nothing to worry about as the antidotes had been applied on time. Still, they were kept under observation for a while so if their health showed any sign of deterioration, they would have been immediately taken care of. Thankfully, none had contacted the disease.

[CotW]

Jaime Lannister was absent throughout the entire debacle of wildfire. Jon had thought that the knight might have been busy with his Kingsguard duties. But even after when the furore died down and once again preparations for the tourney commenced anew, the knight was yet to come out in public. He was even absent in their morning training sessions. He learned from Prince Tommen that the knight had caught the fever and thus, was confined within his chambers at the White Sword Tower. Jon decided to visit him.

A feeling of awe washed over him as Jon stepped into the Round Room, which was used as the common room for the White brothers. Jon took in the décor of the circular room made of whitewashed stone walls – the white woollen draperies hung over the large windows overlooking the Blackwater Bay. A giant Weirwood table carved in the shape of a shield situated at one side of the room, with three chairs on each side and a black oaken chair covered with bleached hide spaced at the head of the table. A white shield with two crossed longswords hung over the hearth. Jon's eyes were drawn to the pedestal right beside the hearth, on which was placed the legendary White Book. Any knight who had pledged to serve in the order of the Kingsguard had their names and deeds written in the said book. Knights from the likes of Prince Aemon, Duncan the Tall, to his Uncle Arthur – each had his name recorded in the book by the then Lord Commander of the order. Jon tentatively reached out with his right hand to touch the pages of the Book with reverence.

"Snow? What are you doing here, lad?"

Jon almost jumped at the sound of the voice. He was so enamoured with the Book that he didn't hear when the owner of the voice entered the room. He turned around to see Lord Commander Ser Barristan standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at him questioningly.

"Er…I have come to check up on Ser Jaime. I heard that he is unwell?" He awkwardly bowed his head to the knight.

Ser Barristan frowned at that, "Yes, he is rather taken ill at the moment. But I am sure that he will be glad to receive you." He approached Jon and the Book. "Were you interested in looking at the White Book?"

"Aye, Ser, I wanted to look at the names of Aemon the Dragonkinght, Ser Duncan the Tall…Ser Arthur."

"Ah, Arthur," Ser Barristan gave him a sad smile, "all the young lads wanted to know about him."

"Er, I meant no offence, Ser…"

"None taken, my dear lad, none taken. He was truly a knight out of the tales. Come, let me show you where Ser Gerold recorded his name when he joined our order…" Ser Barristan waved his hand to the Book. He first showed Arthur's name and deeds to him. One by one, he showed him all the names he had imagined in their plays with Robb and Sansa, the most famous of knights in history. The wide smile almost split Jon's face in half, he couldn't utter the words of the exact feeling of his heart.

"What do you plan to do later with your life, Snow?"

Jon was taken aback at the sudden question, his mind was still full of amazement. It took him a couple of moments to come back to reality, "I am still undecided, Ser. I will do whatever life places in front of me. Personally, I believe that the Gods have something planned for me."

Barristan chuckled at his answer, "Yes, they have plans for all of us." His face took a serious mien, "I want to offer a place in our order to you."

Jon's eyes widened, "Do you mean to say that you want me to join the order of the Kingsguard?"

"Yes, I have heard of your deeds, lad. You have done more at your young age than most of the men spent their entire lives in dreams to attain. Do not mind me for saying so, but as a natural born son of a lord, you do not have many options ahead of you. You have earned a name for yourself, our order would only help you to grow that fame. You will start as a squire, of course. You will have your choice from our brothers whom you want to mentor you. You already have quite a good understanding with Ser Jaime, he is one of the best swords of his generation. You have Ser Arys Oakheart, while it is true that he cannot hold a candle against the likes of Ser Jaime, but he is tenacious and a very fair-minded man. And of course, there is I, if you want, you can squire for me."

Jon didn't know what to think, Ser Barristan Selmy, who himself was a legend by his own right, was offering him a place to stand beside him as an equal. He was tempted to accept the offer, he would have done so if the offer was made to him before he met with Lady Minerva, before he had found the bracers, but now, his destiny awaited him elsewhere.

"You honour me, Ser. Truly, even to imagine that you deemed me able enough to call you brother, is something I have never thought of in my wildest dreams. But I am afraid that I have to decline the offer at present, Ser. This is something that I want to discuss with my lord father. Besides that, I am to accompany my brother Lord Robb as he plans to travel the eastern lands…"

Ser Barristan chuckled and raised a hand to stop Jon's rantings, "Easy there, lad. I did not expect you to join right at the moment. You are right that this is something that you need to discuss with your lord father. I just wanted to make my offer to you. As you have seen this now," he indicated the White Book, "you can understand the kind of men once roamed this tower. Regretfully, I admit that the standard has fallen quite low. Men who don't even have the right to call themselves knights now strut about bedecked in the once prestigious White Cloak. The order needs warriors like you, lad. I implore you to put some thought into my request. For now, go and travel the world, earn more experience, but once, when you feel that you have reached the end of your road, do remember my offer, would you do that for me, lad?"

"Aye, of course, Ser. You have given me much to think about."

"That is all I ask, think about it, Jon Snow. I will be waiting for your answer, even if it reaches me a decade later."

[CotW]

Ser Barristan had pointed Jon towards Jaime's rooms. When he knocked on the doors, at first, there was no reply. After the second round of knocking, a muffled voice told him to enter. Jon opened the doors to find a sparsely decorated room, save for a set of armours that screamed the Lannister effluence in its gold plated finery beside another set of armours in white. A single cot under the windows and table with a few chairs were all that furnished the room. Jon was surprised to see Jaime sitting in one of the chairs looking forlornly out of the window while nursing a goblet of wine. Tyrion sat opposite of him and strangely, he was the sober Lannister brother present in the room.

"Ah, Jon, welcome. What made you traverse to this side of the keep?"

"Greetings, My Lord, I just wanted to see if Ser Jaime is feeling well."

Jaime turned his head towards Jon, his eyes were bloodshot. It appeared that the knight was really under the weather, or rather, into a bottle. His usually shiny golden hair looked stringy and he sported unshaven cheeks. His clothes were rumpled and dirty. It was truly quite a pathetic sight.

"Why?" He growled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why have you come here, bastard? Have you come to look down on me? Wanted to mock me?"

"Why would I want to do that, Ser?"

"Your lord father did…then why wouldn't you?" Jaime slurred out the words.

"Jaime…" Tyrion tried to calm his brother down.

"You don't know these Northerners, brother. They think that they are the most honourable. To them, everyone down the neck is the scum of the earth. Do you know what the honourable Ned Stark did when he reached the Thorne Room? He took a glance of Aerys' still bleeding corpse at my feet and dubbed me Kingslayer. Me, Jaime Lannister, the last ever pupil of Ser Arthur Dayne, had been named an oathbreaker by the most honourable man in all of Westeros."

Jon frowned as the knight continued to curse the name of his uncle, but the man was not finished, he just stopped to gulp down the rest of the wine in his goblet.

"You, bastard, do you know why I killed Aerys? Did your honourable lord father deign to ask why I have slain the man I was sworn to protect? Let me tell you a secret, bastard, he did not. Not a fucking soul asked why I wetted my blade with the Mad King's blood!" He yelled as he threw the goblet at the wall.

Nobody would have recognized the broken man that was sitting before them, Jaime Lannister appeared to be completely devoid of any will to live. He continued his tirade in a hollow voice –

"When I earned my cloak, I was so happy, I had achieved what I wanted. I had earned the rights to call Barristan Selmy, Arthur Dayne, Jonothor Darry, Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower my brothers. They told me that I earned the Whites because Aerys wanted to punish Father. But it didn't matter to me, because I was living in my dreams. Let me tell you, bastard, when your master teaches you in arms, he always forgets to tell you what to do when one of your oaths hinders you from performing your duties. You know, as a knight I was sworn to protect the children, women and the innocent? Then, when I took my oath as a Kingsguard, I was sworn to protect the Royal family. But nobody told me what to do when one of those whom I am sworn to protect tortures another. I stood outside of the King's bedchambers as he daily raped Queen Rhaella. I heard her cries for help, I wanted to burst into the room and kill that fucker right in his own bed. I had asked time and again - what am I supposed to do, tell me, Arthur? My teacher had no answer to give. Darry told me that it was our duty to protect the Royal family, but not from each other. Fucking hypocrites. We were all fucking hypocrites!" He slammed his fist on the table, making his listeners jump.

Jaime's face had contorted in pain, pain that he had carried in his heart for all these years. Alone.

"When Aerys heard that Father was at the gates with his host, he had ordered Rossart to set off the wildfire. 'Burn them all'- he had screamed. Rossart, the fucking rat had scurried off to carry out the mad man's order. I ran after him, with only one thought running in my mind – If I don't stop them, thousands of innocent lives will be lost. I had to kill him and any of his Guild minions before they had the chance to carry out that order. Aerys told me to bring Father's head to him. I was more concerned about Princess Elia and the babes, as Rhaegar asked me to look after his family. When I returned to the Throne Room after dealing with the Guild, he was screaming at me that why I didn't carry Father's severed head in my arms, calling me a Lannister mongrel and how he would burn me alive in front of Father to show all of them what it was like to rise against a dragon. I lost my head when he was screaming about how he would rape Rhaenys before flaying her alive and feed her to the dogs…in front of her impaled but still alive mother. This was his own granddaughter, a mere babe of three namedays old. When I refused to bring the Princess and babes to him, he attacked me with a sword, I don't know from where he got the weapon, but it was child's play to disarm him. He looked at me with eyes that had long lost any kind of intelligence behind them. He tried to run off from there, yelling – burn them all. I had to end him then, lest he went out and ordered the still present Targaryen men to set off the wildfire and kill all who were in the city. I was about to go and find the Princess when news reached that Father was already inside of the city. I waited for him in the Throne Room. That was where Lord Stark found me."

The room was filled with the sounds of heart-wrenching sobs from Jaime Lannister, Tyrion had tried to envelop his brother's bigger frame within his arms. Jaime laid his head on his brother's shoulders and kept talking in between sobs -

"I still think about that day; you know - what if I had not waited in the Throne Room? What if I had gone to stand guard in front of the Princess's chambers, fulfilling my promise to Rheagar? I still have nightmares where I see the bloodied corpses of Elia and her babes, asking me why I didn't protect them, or the mad king dancing before me, yelling – burn them all, while Rhaegar, Elia, Rhaella, Rhaenys – all pointing their fingers at me, asking why didn't I save them."

Tyrion tried to get his brother moved from his seat, "Jaime, please brother, control yourself…"

Jaime paid him no mind, once again he turned his bloodshot eyes towards Jon, "You, Jon Snow, you are an honourable lad, you have already bloodied your hand and you carry the burden of the loss of lives. Tell me, Jon Snow, which of my oaths should have been taken precedent – the one where I swore to protect the innocents or the one where I swore to protect the Royals, even when they were raping, murdering bastards?"

Jon got up to his feet and put Jaime's arm around his shoulder, heaved him off his seat and dragged him towards the cot.

"As a true knight, I would have honoured my oath to protect the innocents first and foremost."

Jaime crashed down on his cot, he peered up into Jon's eyes, "You are different from your father, aren't you, bastard?"

"Aye, Ser, I am different from him."

"I embraced the ridicule, you know? I have respect for your father, and from that respect, I had embraced the mark against my honour. Yes, I am an oathbreaker. I broke my oath to save others, no one needed to know that. We Lannisters are always looked down upon just for our names, then so be it. I broke other oaths; I broke them all…but I had the solace in knowing that I protected innocent lives. Then, I get to find out that I didn't do shit. The people still lived in danger because I kept my mouth shut…I have truly become even lower than an oathbreaker." He had once again got up on his feet and swayed dangerously.

"Oh, just shut the fuck up!" Jon couldn't take it anymore.

Tyrion looked at him in alarm and tried to warn him, "Jon, don't…"

"No, My Lord Tyrion, I have heard enough. Drunk out of his gourd or not, he is going to listen to what I have to say now." He turned towards Jaime, "Sit your arse down, now!"

Jaime blinked at him and crashed back on his cot. Jon was pacing around the room while Tyrion kept wary eyes on both his brother and his young friend.

Wolfsblood was roaring in Jon's ear, he had known about his insane grandfather, but he had no idea of his depravity. Hearing how he tortured his grandmother, what he wanted to do to his sister, ordering to kill all those men by wildfire – he wanted to hit at something. Hard.

"Are you quite done feeling sorry for yourself, Ser, or is there more left?"

Jaime just blinked at him dumbly.

"For the past few days, I have been trekking through knee-deep muck and shit, I have been bitten and scratched by more rats than I can count, I have vile tasting potions poured down my throat, I had to carry heavy loads of component that could have killed me within a blink, I truly do not have any more patience left in my body. You killed the man you were sworn to protect? He was a raving, mad man, you did a favour to the people of the realms. You have broken your oaths in doing so? You have saved countless lives by your actions. You have continued to break your oaths? Well, now is your chance at redemption. What are you going to do about it? Do you want to sit at the corner of your room and bitch about life not being fair to you or do you make something out of this second chance? Remember who you are. You are Jaime fucking Lannister, one of the best swords of your generation. Ser Barristan told me so himself just a couple of hours ago while he was trying to recruit me to your order. I believed him. And I also believe in the warrior that is Jaime Lannister. Lady Stark had driven into our skulls what should be our goals in life, and she had explained it by the words of her house – Family. Duty. Honour. You do right by those, and you have a clear way ahead of you. People call you the Kingslayer? Aye, you are a Kingslayer, you have slain a tyrant. Be proud of your achievement, own the title given to you. A wiser man than I once told me to wear the scorns of others as armour so it won't be used to hurt me. I have embraced my bastard status, as the man had embraced his dwarf status. Be the Kingslayer, be the finest sword the Westerlands had produced in the past century. And for the love of the Old Gods and the New, stop being a fucking pathetic prick!"

Jon was panting at the end of his long rant. The knight just sat there looking at him with wide eyes and opened mouth. Tyrion was trying to understand if his brother would once again start bawling or beating the lad bloody with his bare hands. In the end, the man let out a long sigh and laid down on his cot.

"I would expect you at the yard if you are not otherwise busy with your duties at tomorrow morning. I plan to teach Prince Tommen how to deal with men who come to the training session with a hangover so they won't dare to do the same again in their lives." He turned to get out of the room, "Are you coming, My Lord?"

It was as if Tyrion had woken up from having a strange dream, stutteringly he replied –

"Ah…yes. Yes, I should be going now. Rest well, brother, hope you are not too sick in the morning."

As they were walking down the stairs, Tyrion looked up at Jon, "You were quite harsh with my brother, Jon. You should feel lucky that he didn't beat you bloody with his bare fists for daring to say those things to him."

Jon smirked at him, "And I would have let him have a few licks before I started to pummel him. Do not worry, My Lord, Ser Jaime just needed a good kick up his arse to break him out of his mood. He will be fine in the morning."

*Line Break*

With the danger averted, the people of Capitol once again began to prepare for the tourney with renewed enthusiasm. They had more to be festive other than tending to the King's whims – they had dodged certain death. The lords who hadn't arrived during the Cleansing, were horrified when they learned what the Mad King had planned to do in his last days. Lord Jon Arryn was all praise of Tyrion and Jon for discovering a clutch of dragon eggs, and as Tyrion promised, he hadn't demanded anything in return for the eggs. Lord Yohn Royce, who had met with the Wolfpack before when he visited Winterfell, had overcome with gratitude when he was presented with his ancestral sword. Lamentation was returned to House Royce after over a century.

On the eve before the tourney, a feast was held for all as the commencement of the festivities. The lads were dressed in their fineries, draped in their House colours, while Jon wore a black and white ensemble, a subtle indication for his own Houses. As always, the White Wolf kerchief adorned his arm. As they all met outside of their rooms, Asher took a glance at them and said –

"Don't we all look quite sharp this evening?"

Jon smirked at him, "Keep saying things like this, Forrester, and people will take you for a pillow-biter."

"In your dreams, Snow."

"Why would I dream about you, Asher? Truly, we need to find a lass for you, the sooner the better." They bantered their way to the Throne Room which was the venue for the feast.

As they entered the room, a man came to them and bowed to Robb, "My Lord Stark, kindly allow me to lead you and your companions to your seats."

Robb gave the man a stiff nod, "Of course." He gave a stern reply, for now, he was no mere lad but the Heir to Winterfell.

The man led them to a table just below the dais. As they had heard, it was a seat of prestige, marked for those of the close relations with the throne. They were quite surprised to find their seating arrangements. They took their seats and looked around the hall, tables were placed for the lords divided by the kingdoms they hailed from. All but the Dorne and the Reach had their lords representing their realms. They were the only ones to represent the North. A man with auburn hair and blue eyes same as Robb gave them a nod, Jon assumed that man to be Edmure Tully, son and heir to the Lord Paramount of Riverlands, Lord Hoster Tully, Aunt Cat's brother and Robb's uncle. He was surrounded by men who seemed to be his friends, the fellow Riverland lords. Lord Royce raised his goblet in their direction from his seat among the Valemen, the other Vale lords gave them appraising glances and nodded their heads. The Westlander lords kept to themselves, Jon had spotted Tyrion sitting among them and gave him a nod, while the most boisterous of the lots were the Stormlander lords. Soon, His Grace, King Robert Baratheon appeared with the Royal family in tow. Queen Cersei looked resplendent in a green gown that complemented her emerald eyes. The Crown Prince Joffrey appeared as if he was utterly bored and would have preferred to be anywhere else but there, while Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella were very excited. When Tommen spotted Jon and the others he waved at them and whispered to his sister. Princess Myrcella looked in their direction and blushed prettily. Lord John Arryn walked in after the Royal family with Lady Lysa Arryn on his arm, the lady of the Vale appeared to be quite anxious and kept whispering to her husband, Lord Arryn placed his free hand reassuringly over their joint hands and muttered something to her. Stannis and Renly Baratheon followed them, the lords of Dragonstone and the Storm's End had kept their distances from each other as they entered the hall and reached their assigned seats.

Jon's eyes had followed the Kingsguards that came along with the Royal family. He was glad to see Jaime Lannister back on his feet as he strode into the hall alongside Ser Barristan, his indomitable and arrogant smirk once again graced his face. He spotted Jon watching him with a hawk-like gaze and winked at him as he took his place behind the Royal family.

King Robert took his seat and indicated everyone to sit down. The feast had officially started, announcing the beginning of the festivities. Food platters were brought out for the King to have a taste and disburse them among the dignitaries. All the lords raised their goblets and wished a long and happy life for the monarch. The hall filled with the sounds of cutleries and chatter and laughter.

Robb poked at the meat dish that was sent to their table with a knife.

"What do you think it is?"

Jon was sitting beside him, he too took a knife and tried to turn the food over in the platter, "Looks like some kind of pheasant stuffed with grapes and cooked in honey and spices."

Asher had taken a piece of the meat at his plate and took a bite of it, he chewed with his eyes closed and made a face, "Not too bad, but I will take a roasted wild boar over it any day."

Torrhen snorted, "You and your wild boars. It's a wonder that you haven't developed a pig-snout like them after the number of boars you have put away over the years."

A sound of a throat being cleared followed by "Greetings, nephew," had stopped their conversation. They turned their heads to see that Lord Edmure had come to their table and smiling down at Robb. They got up to their feet and bowed to the lord.

"Greetings, Uncle Edmure." Robb smiled back at the man, "Won't you join us?"

"Of course, nephew, thank you for the offering."

They sat back down, "Not at all, Uncle, it was my pleasure. Please, allow me to introduce you to my friends. Lads, this here is the son and Heir Apparent of Riverrun, Lord Edmure Tully, son of Lord Hoster Tully, my uncle. Uncle Edmure, these are Lord Torrhen Karstark of Karhold, son of Lord Rickard Karstark. Lord Asher Forrester of Ironwrath, son of Lord Gregor Forrester, and finally, my brother, Jon Snow."

"Ah, of course, the famous Bastard of Winterfell, or as people are now calling him, the White Wolf. Isn't that right?"

Jon bowed his head, "Aye, My Lord."

Robb had gone rigid when he heard the term "Bastard of Winterfell", he truly didn't like those words, "Uncle…"

"Be at ease, Robb. I mean no disrespect. I have been in correspondence with Cat and let me tell you, your mother had been nothing but praises for your brother lately." He put both of his elbows on the table and leaned forward, "I was wondering what is the reason for my sister's change of heart?"

Jon cleared his throat, "I do not have any proper answer to that, My Lord. I have been away from Winterfell for a long time, what with my fosterage at Karhold and later, our campaign against the invaders. Mayhaps Lady Stark started to appreciate me once I was gone from her home?"

Edmure nodded thoughtfully, "That could be it, Cat was always in favour of family. She would do anything to protect those whom she calls her own. But my question is, why now? After years of venting her anger, why would she start to accept you now?"

Jon looked straight at the man's eyes, "Allow me to speak freely, My Lord?" Edmure nodded his head, "What I understood is that Lady Stark never resented me. Aye, she was resentful at first when my lord father brought me home, she thought that he had strayed from his marriage bed. The circumstances of their marriage and the whole mess of the Rebellion had played some part in that in my belief. I also believe that once I was away, she had visited her previous thoughts or mayhaps she and Father had finally talked among themselves and she realized that I was never a threat to Robb. I love my brother too much to betray him like that. I will be quite happy to be a leal bannerman or mayhaps even a commander of his men under his rule." Robb discreetly rolled his eyes at that. If only you knew who you are talking with, Uncle. – He thought.

Edmure peered closely at Jon, at his eyes to be more precise, and asked in a low voice, "Lord Eddard never talked to you about your mother?"

Jon shook his head, "No, My Lord. Whenever I asked father, it appeared he was in pain, the thoughts are such to him. Now I understand, he had lost almost his entire family in those troubling days. He was especially close to his brother – our Uncle Brandon. I can certainly empathise with him, as I cannot even imagine not being with Robb. All those memories sadden him so that I have stopped asking. If he one day decides to tell me about her, I will listen. He mayhaps talked with Lady Stark, but I do not know anything about that."

Edmure leaned back into his seat looking continuously at Jon's eyes. He nodded once and got up to his feet, "Enough with the depressing matters. Come on, lads, my friends are eagerly waiting to meet the heroes of the Bear Island." At their incredulous looks, he smirked down at them, "Yes, news has reached us at Riverrun. Also, there were a few bards singing songs about a certain White Wolf and his pack." He strode away to his table as the boys got up.

"Beautifully done, Snow. Mentioning Lord Brandon that way was quite genius." Asher spoke in a low voice.

"Aye, but keep it down for now." Robb hissed at him.

"Robb is right, lads. If I have guessed correctly, we will be invited to visit the Vale table after the Riverlands table. Also, I want to pay a visit to Lord Tyrion." Jon said to them.

"Why are we doing this?" Torrhen asked.

"As the future Lord of Winterfell, Robb needs to socialize with his peers. Do not forget, we may need all the help we can get in the coming days. Now is the time to establish the connections."

Lord Edmure had introduced them to his friends - Patrek Mallister, Marq Piper and others. They had a lively discussion of their battles and campaigns. After a while, Jon excused himself from their table. The others also beg forgiveness and got up. They didn't make a few steps when Lord Yohn Royce loudly called out for them, true to Jon's prediction. The Bronze Lord once again thanked them profusely, especially Jon for discovering and returning his ancestral sword. He regaled the lords and knights of Vale of the story about how the four had rushed into the castle of Winterfell while carrying a pregnant direwolf in a makeshift stretcher. The men at the table were quite intrigued to hear about the legendary beast. When they heard that both Robb and Jon had direwolf pups as their companions, they eagerly asked the boys if they could see them. The boys promised that they would try to bring them to the wolves as otherwise, the wolves might get sick within the confines of the city.

Their conversation came to a halt as King Robert's booming voice echoed inside of the hall –

"Jon Snow, where are you, lad?"

Jon got up to his feet, "I am here, Your Grace."

"Well, come forward, lad."

Jon looked at the high table and caught the eyes of Lord Arryn, the old man smiled down at him and nodded his head in assurance. He took stock of the expressions of the others that sat at that table. Queen Cersei looked on with a stony face, Prince Joffrey sneered at him in clear disdain. Prince Tommen was almost jumping in his seat and Princess Myrcella once again blushed as his eyes fell upon her.

Jon stopped before the high table and got down on one knee. Robert shook his head, "None of that, lad. Come on, get up on your feet."

King Robert himself got up on his feet and swayed dangerously. The man had consumed enough wine for ten men during the feast.

"My Lords and Ladies of Westeros, the lad you see before you, is the son of my dear friend, Ned Stark of Winterfell. I am sure you have all heard how he was instrumental to avert the invasion of the bloody savages of Skagos. He with his brother and friends, have fought at the front line and came out the winner at such a young age. Where are ya, lads?"

Robb, Asher and Torrhen got up from their seats.

"Ah, there you are. Robb Stark, my namesake and the future lord of Winterfell, and…I am sorry, lads, I have forgotten your names, but no matter, you are all heroes in the eyes of people. But Jon Snow here, have done something for the crown which cannot be overlooked. I have discussed with Tyrion Lannister…" He looked around the hall, "Imp? Where are you?"

Tyrion shouted from the Westlander's table, "Here, Your Grace!"

"Well, stand up on the table or something, I cannot see you from here." Laughter rang throughout the hall at the comment. Jon watched as the Queen's lips curved up in a subtle smirk and Joffrey was openly laughing. Jaime, Tommen and Myrcella – on the other hand, had frowns on their faces.

"Pardon me, Your Grace, I often forget that my short stature causes short-sightedness." Tyrion quipped as he struggled to get up on the chair he was sitting on.

Jon had to stifle his snort at the jab Tyrion threw at all and sundry, but it appeared none had caught on to that.

"Ah…yes, as I was saying, I discussed with Tyrion Lannister here, and the man had told me how Jon Snow had pursued him to take on a venture that hadn't been thought by any in over a hundred years. They went to Lord Arryn and argued with him to give them permission as Lord Hand to dig under the rubbles of the Dragonpit. They went and have discovered a clutch of priceless dragon eggs under all that rubbish. The eggs will be used to clear some of the debts the Crown had incurred in the past. For this, I thank you both. To Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister!" He raised his goblet and took a long gulp. The lords also raised their own goblets and drank to their health.

Robert continued, "Not only that, but afterwards, they also discovered a heinous plot devised by that mad bastard Aerys. That man had stashed caches of wildfire all around the city in a bid to kill every living soul within its boundary. They had alerted Lord Arryn promptly when they learned about the danger, thus helping the Crown once again. Jon Snow here had led a group of men down in the sewers and carried out more than half of the caches himself. This brave and intelligent lad that stands before you have done more in his young age for the people of the realms and the Crown than most grown men can only dream of. Jon Snow," Robert turned to look down at Jon, "now the Crown asks you, what do you desire from it? Ask and it shall be granted."

Jon looked around the hall, every pair of eyes were trained on him, waiting in eager anticipation. He looked back at the high table but caught off guard at the smirk and mischievous glint in the eyes of a certain man. He narrowed his eyes at him, as the man knew of his aversion to being the centre of everybody's attention. He smirked back at him, two can play the same game – he thought to himself.

Once again Jon went down on his knees, "Your Grace, I was only doing my duties as honourably as my Lord Father and my foster father, Lord Karstark had taught me. I didn't do anything with the expectation of any kind of reward. But, if Your Grace is insistent that I ask for a reward nonetheless, then grant me this request, My King," he looked up at Robert, who motioned for him to continue, "restore the honour of Ser Jaime Lannister."

The hall broke into confused whispers, everybody thought that Jon would request to be legitimized to finally being able to call himself a Stark. But once again, he did something that was beyond the thoughts of all those who were present at the hall. Jaime himself was looking at him with a frown on his face.

"I am sure, Your Grace, that you have heard by now why and how he did all those years ago. He is a knight first and a Kingsguard second. He had carried his duties as a true knight and held on to his honour. Circumstances had led him to be accused falsely, but never did he raised his voice for the injustice and suffered alone like the true warrior he is. I implore you, My King, help me to remove the stain from his White Cloak."

Once again Jon had rendered the King speechless and the Hand thoughtful. The knight himself was scowling down at him fiercely. Jon knew that everyone by now had heard why Ser Jaime killed King Aerys because it was him who had leaked the information. He had talked with Arthur first. The man was quite emotional when he learned that his pupil had held on to the ethics of a true knight. With his blessings, Jon had staged the situation where he was discussing the incident with his friends at a place where anybody can eavesdrop on their conversation. Ser Barristan was smirking - his expression was saying that he thought that he did the right thing by offering him a place with the order of Kingsguard. Queen Cersei had a calculating gaze on her face and Joffrey was confusedly looking at everywhere as if he couldn't understand what was going on.

The silence was broken by the sound of clapping, the Westlanders led by Tyrion stood from their seats and started to clap and hoot, slowly, the entire crowd stood at their feet and started to clap. Robert took a moment to gather his thoughts, then he raised his hand to stop all the noises.

"Is this what you truly desire, lad?"

Jon bowed his head, "Aye, My King."

Robert nodded, "Very Well." He walked around the table to come and stand in front of it. "Ser Jaime, come forth."

Ser Jaime came forward and bowed to the King.

"Kneel."

The knight took a knee before the King.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, you have proved by your deeds that you have held onto your oaths that you took when you had earned your spurs. It was quite unfortunate that you were blamed for performing your duties. Therefore, I, King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, hereby absolve you of the accusation for killing a mad tyrant. You are Ser Jaime Lannister, no more a Kingslayer. Rise, Ser Jaime, the White Lion."

Jaime stood back up amidst a round of thunderous applause. Chants of the 'White Lion' along with the 'White Wolf' had filled the hall. Tyrion rushed to his brother, Jaime laughed as he got down to his knees and embraced his brother tightly against his chest.

Jon slowly made his way back to his pack. Asher smirked at him, in a low voice he said –

"All hail the White Wolf. Who once again rendered everybody speechless by simply being himself."

"Fuck you, Forrester!"

Ping!

Quest Completed!

Lead a team to excavate under the rubbles of Dragonpit!

Bonus Objectives: Try to find the lost sword of House Royce!

Try to restore the name of Jaime Lannister!

Jon shook his head at the notification, he would never understand the humour of Lady Minerva.

"Why did you do it?" A voice from behind roused him from his thoughts. Jon turned around to find the Lannister brothers standing before him, both had curious looks on their faces.

"Why did I do what?"

Jaime frowned at him, "You are not a lackwit, Snow, so don't try to act that way. Why did you clear my name?"

Jon shrugged, "As I told His Grace, I was just doing my duties as honourably as I could."

"And clearing my name was part of your honourable duties?"

"It was the result of a happy coincidence, aye." Jon winked at Tyrion who snorted at his answer.

Jaime scowled at him at first, but then, his face morphed into a vicious smirk, "You realize, of course, that now I have to pay you back?"

It was Jon's turn to frown.

"What do you mean, Ser Jaime?"

"Oh, you will find out when I put some more thoughts to it. After all, a Lannister always pays his debts."

Tyrion had doubled over laughing at his brother's smirk and the dumbfounded look on Jon's face.