Tourney of the Hand
Mid 298 Ned Stark
Ned flinched and his daughter screamed as a shard of Jorah Mormont's lance skewered Ser Hugh of the Vale's unprotected neck. His steward's daughter, Jeyne Poole wept hysterically at the sight. Ned grit his teeth, knowing that the undefeated champion somehow made that happen with his magic. The Lord of Bear Island didn't even give the man a glance as he choked on his own blood, the death of Jon Arryn's former squire meant nothing to Hungry Bear. Instead of paying the man any respect Jorah returned to his attendants and took up his next lance, which bore Ser Balon Swan to the ground after they dragged Ser Hugh's body away. Jorah Mormont advanced to the semifinals. What a shock.
Ten more pairs faced off on the lists while the Lord of Bear Island enjoyed the company of the thirty thousand gold dragons he earned after winning the melee and the archery contests. For a man that looked like death warmed over, Jorah seemed to hit harder than at any time prior in his life. His tourney greatsword sent men flying through the air with every swing, like a grown man battering children.
Ned watched the man remove his helmet with the help on an attendant, revealing a hard and lean face, with graying hair, almost showing blue where not silver. The man never looked more the image of his moniker, with a maddened look to his unnatural green eyes. He drank wine like water, without watering it down, yet remained completely steady when he mounted his horse to face down Ser Loras Tyrell, perhaps the only knight on the field capable of matching Jorah in sheer ostentatiousness - his tourney armor a polished silver enameled with creeping black vines and studded with sapphires with golden roses adorning his helmet, and a cloak of beautiful blue forget-me-nots sewn onto rich wool.
The young man had a reputation as one of the greatest knights in the Seven Kingdoms, including the powerful current generation of the Kingsguard, the third in a set of brilliant chivalric brothers poised to regain the tarnished reputation of House Tyrell. No trick of horsemanship, nor prodigious skill saved him from the nigh predetermined defeat he suffered the moment Jorah's lance touched him. Still, Loras got up and bowed to the victor, walking off the tremendous pounding better than any of Jorah's previous opponents. There's something to the raw experience the lads in the Reach get with their lance handling.
Sandor Clegane defeated Jamie Lannister and the crowd was excited for what many called Clegane-bowl, an pseudo-legendary speculative encounter in which the fearsome younger Clegane brother clashes with Jorah Mormont to avenge his brother's brutal and humiliating execution. The crowd nearly rioted when the giant man known as The Hound withdrew and sent his compliments to the Hungry Bear for his work 'putting down that evil cunt!'
Jorah added another forty thousand gold dragons to his treasure horde.
That night at the feast, the reigning champion joined the royal family at their table seated to the King's left, causing Ned seated to his right no small aggravation as looming confrontation weighed more heavily upon the Hand's shoulders with each passing hour. Finally Robert announced loudly his need to piss and left the table. Ned locked eyes with Jorah and signaled for him to follow him in leaving the table as well. As they navigated out of the feasting hall, the Lord of Bear Island snatched a pair of pitchers full of wine from the servers.
"None for me." Ned told him as he led them to a balcony by the sea, the crashing of waves on the bluffs preventing voices from carrying to any easy hiding places unless shouting.
"Funny that you thought I grabbed any for you." the taller man chuckled, then rubbed his chest while grimacing, "Try not to make me laugh, Ned. That hurt worse than the combined efforts of the best knights in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Fuck!" the man barked as he began coughing, a wet and bloody affair, and Ned caught a glimpse of red teeth in the torchlight before Jorah washed it down from one of his pitchers.
"How long?" Ned asked, realizing that the specter hanging over him was soon to lift without any help on his part.
"Just a handful of moons left." Jorah smiled, "Then I can finally burn all this pain away."
Ned felt confused by the image that statement conjured, of the man lighting his own funeral pyre while atop it, but put it aside with a shake of his head, "Tell me, what is going on here in King's Landing. Who killed Jon Arryn? Why are you building so much influence in the court?"
Jorah smiled, a cruel twist of his mouth born from dark amusement, "There is so much there that you can't even believe, even from the mouth of a man you would trust."
"How about from the mouth of a man who is dying?" Ned countered and gripped the belt over his tunic tightly, "One last chance to boast about how much better you were than everyone else before death consumes you."
"Ned Stark, flattering. What a strange timeline we sail on." Jorah mused, "Alright. Where shall we begin? I'm a book with everything you could ever possibly know. Do you know what pages to turn to?"
Ned thought only briefly before asking again, "Who killed Jon Arryn?"
"His wife." Jorah answered flatly.
Ned's face twisted as he heard an answer he did not expect, and thus it warred against himself to believe. The man was right, as always, he wouldn't accept that answer from someone he trusted, but from someone he feared, someone with so little to lose…
"How?" Ned continued.
"Tears of Lys, delivered to his cup at their shared table." Jorah answered again, so evenly.
It fit the image painted by the spymaster, Varys. Did two untrustworthy sources come together to form a trustworthy source, or did Jorah know what words the Spider spoke to him?
"Why?" Ned interrogated with a pained expression and a heavy heart.
"Jon wanted to send her son to foster with Stannis." Jorah stated plainly the inner workings of the former Hand's homelife that occurred while he roamed the wilds on the other side of the world.
"Why would that cause her to kill him?" Ned growled in frustration, incapable of seeing for himself from where the logic leaped.
"She is quite mad." Jorah answered, "Dangerously obsessive and deluded, oh so easy to manipulate if you own her heart. Quite the puppet, that woman."
Ned squinted as he processed the information, "Who manipulated her into killing Jon Arryn."
"Petyr Baelish." Jorah grinned as accused the diminutive man.
His wife's childhood friend? Ned grew more and more angry at the Lord of Bear Island as he accused the people close to his family of such villainy.
"If this is more than you can handle, how will you ever withstand the burden of your other questions?" Jorah mocked the man and drank deeply of his wine.
"What do you gain saying such against them?" Ned demanded.
"Absolutely nothing." the man answered.
"Perhaps you obscure your own movements in King's Landing by putting the attention of the Crown onto others?" Ned accused the man while fingering his belt knife.
"That's the funny part, Ned." Jorah smirked, "I'm not making any moves in King's Landing."
"Liar!" Ned shouted, "The court is filled with your crewmen, with your daughters!"
"And my grandchildren." the man painfully chuckled and continued after a few steadying breathes, "Those men and their families were invited to King's Landing by the King without any prompting from me." Jorah dismissed the man's anger and leaned against the stone railing, taking another sip from his wine jar, "They were my warriors, but they are his friends. They are so influential in his court because they full heartedly support him and his vision for Westeros. The King's own men, quite the retirement package for a pack of bloodthirsty sailors."
"You claim they are not your men, yet they advance your position in the city." Ned stated through grit teeth.
"You assume cause because you see outcome, but you're forgetting something important, Ned." Jorah explained and Ned felt like a boy once again frustrated as his Maester led him around by his mental ear, "You've forgotten the human factor. Understandable, considering the deep pit of politics you find yourself in. They advance my cause, because a man is scum if he forgets where he came from and the people who helped him rise up. I've no need to direct the men who have left my employ for Robert's. Them working for the benefit of Bear Island and its people is more than enough to carry out my will."
Ned sucked his teeth, trying to calm himself.
"I am to believe, that you have such a firm influence in the capital, and you don't use it." Ned shook his head.
"I haven't needed to play politics ever since I convinced Robert to invade Essos with me." Jorah chuckled and once again grimaced, "Everything that came after, has been a whole lot of fun, and a whole different game."
"What game?" Ned asked and Jorah smiled widely.
"One I've already won." Jorah's answer somehow scared Ned worse than anything else revealed in this discussion.
"What game?" Ned repeated.
"Apotheosis." Jorah replied.
"What?" Ned snapped back.
"Apotheosis:" Jorah repeated, "the highest point in the development of something, its culmination, its climax. The mortal man's elevation in status to godhood."
"You're saying you're a god." Ned scoffed, once again full of disbelief.
"Do you feel like removing your boots, Ned?" Jorah asked with a light mirth in his tone, "You stand on sacred ground."
Ned bit back his angry retort, but then he saw Jorah's eyes ablaze, cutting through the night like two green lighthouse beacons, and then he heard it, a sound rising from the city and the keep, every voice chanting in unison.
"I've already won. I've already won. I've already won…"
Ned fell to his knees and wept in sudden overwhelming despair.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looks like we will get one more, as I have chosen to show Jorah's final ritual rather than just have Jorah tell us about it. Part of me thought that it would be interesting to end the story of a lead man so clipped in his dialogue with a long monologue, but instead, Jorah will remain true to character and show us what is happening through his actions. Good God, this guy is consistent.
Also this chapter fucks hard.
In other news I posted the first chapter of Worm: The Lizard Daddy that Replaced Armsmaster and I made a dope ass cover for it.
You can support me and my family at
ko-fi.com/jmanm