Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic!

[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Pessoa Thrid POV

Westeros, 295 AC.

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Jon followed Renly to the Tyrell garden to have a conversation, while the family members remained cautious and Renly did not seem very well equipped to handle it. Jon walked calmly as they approached an open tent set up exclusively for them.

Renly seemed to break the silence finally after regaining some of his composure from what had happened. "Arctic King, please sit," he said, while Jon nodded. Jon, Renly, Willas, and Garlan sat, while Loras stood beside Renly like a faithful squire. The Arctic men and Tyrells stood at a distance.

"Do we have to stand here watching them talk?" Tormund complained beside the other royal guards.

"Yes, Tormund, that's our job, remember?" One of them mocked. Despite finding it a poor task, he remained silent, accepting it.

Returning to the table with the Westerosi nobles and the King of the Arctic, Renly continued speaking with a friendly smile to Jon. "So, Lord Jon... Your men are very well trained... I didn't expect to see Ser Boros lose like that," Renly commented.

"It's true, that's a great advantage of the Arctic, we have powerful warriors, my guard is trained to withstand all kinds of possible conflicts," Jon said.

"That's admirable, I've heard you handle a sword very well too, even achieving great victories against Ser Garlan, that's admirable," he said with an expression suggesting it was something grand.

"I thought I was the best until I met the Arctic King's blade, it's no wonder he even defeated the Red Viper and, according to rumors, cut his face," Garlan decided to add some praise to his words.

Although Jon found that kind of talk nauseating, as if they were courting a maiden, he still nodded. "You are exaggerating, Ser Garlan, you are also a great warrior and would do well in the Arctic arenas," Jon said.

"Arenas?" Renly raised an eyebrow as Willas and Garlan looked at Jon.

"Not as you think, we don't have slaves to throw into pits like the nobles of Essos do in the slave cities of the southeast continent," Jon said and continued. "We have spaces where our warriors can prove their skills against the best in front of all the Arctic people," Jon said.

"That sounds like a great show, do you have championships like our tournaments?" Renly asked, excited to see the conversation flowing after all the initial confusion.

"We don't have jousts, but hand-to-hand combat and archery are among our many games," Jon said.

"What other kinds of games do you have?" Willas was interested, hearing this for the first time.

"We have games that test the command of our men, we can rank many promising leaders and tacticians with them," Jon said, describing events where two teams face off with non-lethal weapons while devising the best strategy to confront each other.

"We also have chariot races where we race around the arena structure, commanding horses. It's a sport where we have two horses pulling a cart while they race to reach the finish line first," Jon said.

"Like carriages?" Garlan asked, a bit confused by this sport he'd never heard of before.

"You could say that, but much faster. Unfortunately, despite being a popular sport... we still don't have many horses for the competition," Jon said.

"That sounds amazing... although hard to imagine, still, for a people like you to enjoy it, it must be incredible," Renly praised, continuing while Loras remained silent. "I heard about your negotiation with the Tyrells, not everyone in Westeros could spend the amount you are spending on horses, you certainly want to fill your land," he said.

"Yes, it's one of the resources we need for the kingdom..." Jon commented.

"Is your kingdom open to visitors?" Renly asked.

"As I already told Willas and Garlan, we are not opening the kingdom yet... I need to first secure my business abroad and open the economy in the Arctic before starting to open the kingdom," Jon informed.

"Economy with that people?" Loras's voice emerged for the first time, creating a tense silence.

"Loras, can you not speak that way to our guests?" Renly commented, frowning while even his brothers, Willas and Garlan, looked disapprovingly at him.

Loras was about to respond, but Jon intervened. "Tell me, ser," he began, already losing some patience with these southern people, "besides handling your sword, what kind of skills do you have?" Jon asked, looking directly into his eyes.

"I..." Loras was a bit lost with that question. What did Jon mean by asking if he knew something besides wielding a sword? He only knew how to be a warrior. Even Garlan thought so.

"I know how to command," Loras thought for a moment and replied to Jon with a direct tone.

"Commanding is very good," Jon began. "Have you ever commanded 500 men, maybe 1000, 2000?" he asked, leaving Loras a bit speechless. He had commanded at most 30 or 50 Tyrell men in his years.

"You see that man beside the chatterbox?" Jon pointed to a royal guard beside Tormund, who was complaining. "He is called Ben of House Viskote. He was a simple man; his father was the chief of a nomadic tribe that roamed the region in the early years," Jon said, still remembering when he met his tribe as one of the first.

"His tribe was dying, and I found them in the eastern region fleeing from the west, where their native land was. He was only 14 years old when I met him, and I was 9 at the time. I was just a child, but his father believed in me and accepted to join my group when Artica didn't even exist yet..." As Jon spoke, none of the present interrupted him.

"Later, I met his son, the one standing there. He was a 14-year-old boy who agreed to become my subordinate, just a child. When we started building Artica, we began training. Do you know what a boy ready to become a man, who couldn't read, write, fought like a wildling without discipline, and had a rude vocabulary, could learn in the last six years?" Jon asked Loras, while the boy had no answer.

"You may not know, but let me tell you, Ser. This boy grew up and learned many things. He can command 5,000 men in a battle, I assure you. But besides his blade being able to defeat any man in Highgarden who isn't Arctic and having command skills, he is an excellent scribe, producing many reports I enjoy reading due to his skill with poetry. From an illiterate wildling, as many would say, he has complete knowledge of the common and ancient languages. Additionally, he is a specialist in astronomy, easily recognizing any constellation in the sky," Jon said, not taking his eyes off Loras, who still did not understand what he was trying to say, but Willas and Renly had already grasped it, feeling a bit embarrassed by Loras's imprudence.

"What I mean by this is that even if they are savages to you, the Arctic people can learn easily. I doubt you have more knowledge than any royal guard who, unlike you, was not born in a castle surrounded by servants, a maester to teach him from a young age, or had to endure hardships. These men come from the frozen desert, living their lives in constant danger. Say what you will, but don't be surprised when these people prove they can learn anything they want. Economics is just common sense; we Arctic people delve into even more complex subjects," Jon finished, while Loras did not know what to respond after hearing this whole speech. In fact, he was confused by it.

"That is commendable, Arctic King... Is this the plan for your nation, to educate them after I heard about your hiring of lecturers?" Renly asked.

"Yes, I intend to create a literate nation. That is why I am recruiting teachers and lecturers while buying lots of books wherever I go," Jon looked at everyone. "My dream is to form a nation not only powerful but with the most intelligent people in the world, without having to raise our blades against any kingdom," Jon said. He would make Artica so powerful that if they entered into conflict with Westeros or Essos, it wouldn't change the outcome of his dream.

"That is very admirable... King of Artica," Willas commented with a certain admiration in his tone.

"Indeed, I didn't expect such wisdom from the Arctic King," Renly applauded this.

Jon nodded while Loras still did not know how to respond to that. Renly felt more at ease and clapped his hands in the air, while servants approached with wine and food for them, as they began to discuss more mundane matters.

Meanwhile, Seryna and Arya continued being accompanied by Margaery, who met her cousin on the way, and they all started walking while talking about feminine matters. They were heading to a balcony inside the castle.

Olenna would join them later, but first, she had to exchange a few words with the castle's maester, who was to meet with them in a few days.

"Maester," she approached the library.

"Lady Olenna!" He greeted her with respect.

"Were you here the whole time, or did you see our commotion at the castle entrance?" She asked with a calculating look.

"I certainly saw it, my Lady, and I must say I was very surprised by that commotion. Striking a royal guard is also an affront to the sovereignty of Westeros. I don't understand why Prince Renly accepted it so lightly," he said.

"Do not speak like that, maester," she replied calmly, knowing that the maester had a certain hostility towards the Arctic people from the first day. She didn't know exactly what it was but didn't care. "Let's leave that for our representative from King's Landing to resolve," she said, although she thought Renly was a rather weak man to be able to do anything, even if he wanted to.

"So, my lady, how can I be of service?" He asked.

"Well, I want to know about some very peculiar things. I spoke with an 11-year-old girl, Arya Stark. She told me she knows several languages and has knowledge in many areas, which is very hard to believe, I admit," Olenna said while the maester raised an eyebrow at that.

"What do you mean by that, my lady? A child should not learn more than one language..." The maester was skeptical about Olenna's words.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, maester. The girl claims this, and even the Arctic queen did not disagree. Moreover, they were speaking in a strange language, and it wasn't merely words thrown to the wind. I hate dealing with a person I don't know, besides seeing their expressions, and they hide them very well, so it's torture when they start speaking in that language without any of us being able to understand..." Olenna told the maester.

"My lady, this is hard to believe..." he replied cautiously, clearly not believing in such a fantasy.

"Yes, it's hard, I know. That's why I'd like you to investigate, question the girls. Prince Harry will try to invite Jon Arctic to the banquet this time, and I'm sure he will succeed. So, as soon as the opportunity arises, try to talk to them. I want to know exactly what knowledge they have acquired in that land and if it is really all that they say," she requested, still maintaining her calculating look.

"Yes, my lady, I will do exactly that," the maester replied.

For the maester, this was a perfect opportunity. Even though he didn't believe it, he would do exactly what his lady wanted. After all, his mission from the order in recent weeks in this place was to observe and try to get close to the Arctic people. However, their absence from banquets and the only ones maintaining contact with them being the nobles of this house and other great houses made it difficult for this maester to get close to one for a conversation. Not to mention that the Arctic king himself seemed to have some hostility towards him; every time he tried to approach, he was stopped by a fierce look from him. Or he could say his women, but now, asking a few questions, as his lady suggested, there was no reason for them to refuse. Perhaps this was the opportunity to get in touch with them.

Olenna then began to leave the place, walking to meet her granddaughter Margaery and her cousin with their companions. As she finally climbed some stairs, she saw them on one of the balconies looking at the castle grounds, having tea with a few guards beside the room. She passed by them and approached with a small smile, looking at her guests.

"It was quite a show your husband put on. I never imagined seeing a royal guard choking on his own blood..." Olenna said to Seryna, while she sat at the table with Margaery, who became a bit shy at her grandmother's words.

"Jon put him in his place. The same could be said for Tormund!" The response did not come from Seryna, but from Arya, speaking with a tone of pride.

"You certainly know how to act when needed. I never liked that royal guard; he always seemed arrogant, and you gave him a good lesson..." Olenna praised.

"Grandmother... This doesn't seem appropriate for a conversation among ladies..." Margaery commented, while Olenna smiled.

"Haha, it's all right, my dear granddaughter. I'm still surprised by what happened. You will understand later that this is a very rare event in your life. But it certainly showed that Jon Arctic has his fangs and doesn't seem to care about the status of those who offend him. I just hope Loras doesn't say anything foolish; that fool sometimes acts foolishly..." Olenna commented.

"Grandmother!" Margaery spoke a bit louder than usual.

"Haha, don't be like that. You know your brother... Anyway, let's have a good tea with our lovely guests," she said as a servant began to serve them.

Back at the Tyrell garden, with a few more hours passing with casual conversations, Renly started to approach Jon with more serious matters.

"I insist, Arctic King," Renly said to Jon. "Come to my arrival banquet. I even asked them to delay it until today after I talked to you. I guarantee you won't regret it and will be treated according to your status, as you will be my special guest," he argued, maintaining a friendly expression.

Jon sighed. The man was quite persistent, even though he had already declined the invitation because he didn't like those groups of nobles in the camp. Some had even tried to rob him or take advantage. But it would also be a bit rude to refuse the prince's invitation. He had also proven he could not be provoked so easily, having already killed a knight and beaten a royal guard.

"All right, I will attend with my wife, my sister, and my ministers," Jon finally said. "But there is one condition..." Jon did not fail to mention.

Renly, who was smiling and celebrating, looked at Jon and his last words with curiosity. "What would that be, Arctic King?" He asked.

"I want my sister to participate in the archery tournament in a few days," Jon said, while all three Tyrells choked at this. After all, there were no women participating. There had been one in hand-to-hand combat, but none in archery, let alone a child. It seemed it would offend all the nobles.

"That seems inappropriate, Arctic King, not just for the participants but for a lady of Lady Stark's status..." Willas spoke.

"That is my condition, and it is inappropriate only for those who lose to my sister..." Jon said with a smile.

"But..." Willas was about to speak.

"Lord Willas, is that possible?" Renly suddenly asked, causing Willas to frown at the question.

"We can make it happen, my prince..." Willas said.

"Then it's decided!" Renly quickly declared.

"Then I will be at the banquet tonight," Jon declared calmly.

Renly clapped his hands, happy. "That's great! I look forward to seeing you later. I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about," said the prince in good humor.

"Anyway, I must be going. After all, I have a few more things to do," said Jon, wanting to leave to have lunch with his men.

Renly nodded. Despite it seeming a bit rude for Jon to leave like this, he was not offended by the Arctic King's departure. After all, they had been talking for hours. "All right, as long as you show up at the banquet, that's fine," Renly said with his usual smile.

Jon nodded as everyone began to rise from the table. He touched the prince's hand in a farewell gesture and said goodbye to all the other members, leaving the garden with his men.

As he began to leave, his wife and Arya, seemingly having already guessed, appeared on the way. They then met to leave, mounting their horses with their guards and passing through the gates.

Renly returned to the castle. "My prince, do you want to have lunch or visit the tournament area later?" Willas asked as they entered the castle.

He calmly declined. "No, I will be going to my room. Bring my lunch there; I want to reflect on some things..." he said, and Willas respected that.

Loras took him to his current quarters and they entered, closing the door, leaving only the two of them in the room.

"Do you think I spoke too much?" Loras asked, as he had been embarrassed by Jon with his speech, although he still didn't fully understand his words.

"Yes, you did," Renly admitted. "But that doesn't matter now. That man really is impressive..." He remembered Jon's speech. "He is a better king than my brother, and we only talked for a few hours." The prince admitted.

"You will be a better king than him," Loras said suddenly.

Renly looked at him with a smile. "Did you see his sword?"

"Yes, and it should belong to you," Loras immediately responded.

"Yes, I have the Targaryen lineage, so the sword should belong to my house. However, I can't just ask for it. After all, it would be confiscated and go directly to my nephew, if he has my blood..." Renly said as he lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling.

"What are you planning, my prince?" Loras already suspected Renly was planning something.

"Well, I have an opportunity to get that sword without offending our guest. Did you hear when he said there were no jousts in Artica, only strange horse races?" Renly commented, and Loras nodded.

Renly continued, "I will invite him to the tournament joust."

"But he has never been a knight, my prince. He doesn't belong to this realm," Loras said.

"That's true, but it's nothing that the prince of Westeros can't achieve with a word or two," Renly said with a smile and looked at Loras. "I will need a knight to fight for me. Would you show your lance in my name?" He asked, wanting to challenge Jon to the joust to win the Valyrian steel sword, Darksister.

"Of course, my king. I will easily defeat him for you," Loras said with determination.

Meanwhile, there was a little bird on the window watching everything, while Jon smiled, returning to his camp. It seemed that tonight would be more interesting than he had imagined.

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