Lord's solar, New Keep:
Later that same day:
'This is a mess,' Wyman Manderly thought with a subtle frown, sitting at his desk while scanning the mountain of papers around him.
There were reports, contracts and most importantly, notes on the trade manifests that his new squire had been spending hours on cross-referencing.
Said notes all spoke of various discrepancies that his steward had missed or should he say, his former steward.
Once he had found out that the man had been taking bribes from an unknown source to overlook the ship's weight, he had personally seen to it that the man was dragged down to the cells beneath the Wolf's Den.
'I suppose that's what I get for hiring someone Littlefinger recommended to me,' he could not blame the lord in question as his steward had not been in the service of him. That did not mean he was not suspicious of the lord, though.
Any who blindly trusted Littlefinger was no more than a fool to do so.
His gaze moved back to the notes, mulling over them as he rubbed his chins. The notes that Jon had made listed errors, showing discrepancies that occurred under a specific schedule.
Ships that came from Essos always stopped first at King's Landing to get a trade license from the Master of Coin before heading to the various other ports of Westeros.
This, however, showed that Littlefinger somehow missed hundreds of ships that have been funnelling steel and various poisons to the North.
Something he did not believe in the slightest.
'Then, he purposefully missed them?' he thought with a frown, glancing to a ship manifest from one that came from Lys. It was a city where he normally ordered his white wines, but it was also known for its alchemists that make the greatest of poisons.
Then there were the ones from Qohor, which is where he bought fine tapestry at a much cheaper price compared to Myr's, but the Qohorik forges were world-renowned for their armour and blades that were superior to the ones made in Westeros.
From what they had found in the Salted Trident, the armour and crossbows were Qohorik-made, but given how it didn't have the rich blue ripples in the steel, it would look no more different than your average armour and crossbow.
'Sneaky little buggers,' Wyman thought with a sigh, leaning back until his chair groaned in dangerous protest. There was something brewing in the South and someone there wanted to strike the first blow against the North while the King was here.
'This is why I can't retire just yet. If I cannot face the North's enemies in the dark, who am I to stand beside my liege lord in the light?' Wyman took a slow breath as he sat back up just as the door opened.
Jon entered with a soft sigh, carrying the latest three ledgers that he was given under one arm and a stack of parchment filled with more notes in the other.
"Lord Manderly, I have checked the last of the ledgers. Other than a few that stood out, there were no big discrepancies," Jon spoke with a bow of his head, placing the notes down while stacking the ledgers atop the others.
"Wonderful, Jon," Wyman was impressed by how calm and determined the young man looked despite the fact that the two of them had worked well into the Hour of the Ghosts.
They had even missed dinner, but thankfully, Wylis had brought both of them a meal sufficient enough to help them keep going through the night.
"You are quite the squire if I must say so myself. I wonder why Lord Stark did not send you sooner."
"There were...conflicts with others that led to my staying longer in Winterfell," The way Jon spoke with a grimace told Wyman all he needed to know as he shook his head.
Of course, the Lady Stark would never see past the things she was taught from a young age to see the true talent in the boy.
'Not that I will do the same,' Jon was like a diamond in the rough, good with a quill and even better with the sword. If honed just perfectly, the boy would make a great vassal and lord for a house.
'Perhaps even my own,' Oh, how he wished his son and Leona could still have more children and perhaps a son, but unfortunately, her womb was ruined after the difficult birth of Wylla.
As for Wendel, his son had no intentions on being Lord as he found it too tedious and preferred being in the thick of battle.
'Ah, look at me. The boy has barely been here for more than a day and I already want to marry him off like he's my own,' Wyman chuckled, shaking his head at Jon's confused look.
"Nothing to worry about, Jon. Why don't you go to your chambers and get what little rest you can from the few remaining hours of night? Tomorrow, you will accompany Ser Marlon and a contingent of ten of our house guards to raid the warehouses down by the docks."
"Will there be battle?"
"Only in the worst of scenarios," Wyman replied, though he smiled as the boy didn't lose the grim, determined look in his eyes.
'Just like his Lord Father.'
"I understand, my Lord. Goodnight."
"To you as well, Jon. Rest well."
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A few moments later:
Jon's room, New Keep:
Shimmering grey eyes looked out from the stained glass of his room as Jon stood in front of a window. His gaze was locked on the docks at the foot of the hill and he smiled when Ghost stood against the windowsill to look out as well.
"Sorry I have not been paying attention to you, buddy," Jon murmured, scratching Ghost's ears as the direwolf let out a low rumble. "No, you can't come with tomorrow."
Disappointment and a pleading stare was the wolf's reply, but neither worked on his master who rolled his eyes. "You know that you're still too young for battle, Ghost. Besides, I don't want someone to kidnap you."
His gaze moved away from the wolf as it huffed, rolling his eyes before his mind went back to the upcoming events.
'It's already fractured,' There had never been talks in the original life's memories of this happening in the books or the series. At least, not that they could remember of.
Along with that, the missive of Bran's fall from the Winterfell tower still had not yet arrived, which meant that it was either en route or Lord Stark decided to keep it quiet lest the North march at full strength to Winterfell.
'The North adores the Stark family so that's not too far of a stretch to say,' he thought with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. A sudden ache tore through his chest, one he ignored with a grimace as he rubbed his chest.
He hadn't noticed his Aether slowly diminishing, but then again, he guessed that drinking the animal blood was as nourishing as he thought to replenish what he lost in the travels and with using Alluring Eye on Lord Manderly.
With a raid planned tomorrow, he needed his senses at full-strength, which meant that he needed that blood tonight.
'Innocent people are off-limits as I do not wish to prey on the helpless of the city,' However, a port city of this many people always had its fair share of filth, the ruthless that preyed on others in the dark.
"Stay here and keep watch, Ghost," Jon whispered and the direwolf let out a huff, sinking back onto the heavy fur rug as Jon walked to his chest.
Grabbing a plain, black woolen cloak, he took off his shirt that had the Stark sigil embroidered on its form and threw the cloak over his shoulders.
The cold wind blew through across his form as he opened the window to his room, taking a deep breath and enjoying it before he leapt over the stone windowsill.
Kicking off the wall when he got close to the ground, he slipped into the shadows of the courtyard. His eyes easily accustomed to the dark as he moved, ducking and weaving around the trained guards that saw naught but a flicker of his shadow.
Slipping out of the main gate and down into the shadows of the jagged rocks on the sides of the hill, Jon felt an eager smile spreading across his lips as he rushed towards the lower docks.
It took no more than a few passing moments before he slipped into the shadows of an alleyway, grey eyes gaining a reddish-pink hue as he heard the muffled cry of someone close by.
Reaching the corner of the alleyway that led deeper towards the lower decks, Jon narrowed his eyes at the sight that greeted him.
A young man was forced to kneel on the stained alleyway floor, two men dressed in leather jerkins holding him down by his arms. Knelt in front of him was a gaunt man dressed in the same leather jerkins and pants while holding a serrated dagger to the young man's throat.
"Let's try this one more time, little scribe," Jon heard the gaunt man hiss as he used the shadows to get closer. "The Salted Trident was compromised and you were the one working that day. So, who inside the customs house talked."
"I-I told you, I don't know!" The clerk sobbed as terror took his form. "I swear by the Seven, the harbour master handles the displacement logs! I just copy the pages!"
"Well, if it wasn't you and you don't know who it was, then you're a loose end and our employer does not like loose ends."
"No! P-Please, no! I can find out! I swear I will find out, milord!"
"He told you he doesn't know," Jon spoke as he dipped closer, the three thugs' head snapping in his direction to see only his glowing eyes. "and it's incredibly rude to try and kill someone who has been helping you."
"Who in the Seven Hells is you?"
"Just a man that hungers for the blood of the damned," Jon whispered, stalking forward with shallow yet excited breath as the need to feed grew with every step.
"Great, a drunkard," the gaunt man murmured with a scoff of derision, pulling the dagger from the scribe's throat. "You, go and fuck him u-"
'Flowing Red Scale,' As the gaunt man looked away, his movement slowed and Jon's eyes widened as the sound of his pulsating blood resonated through his head.
With a lunge, the young Blood One covered the distance in the blink of an eye, biting down on the neck of the man and tearing open the skin.
The gaunt man's eyes widened as Jon's hand clamped around his mouth a firm grip, the two falling to the ground. The man struggled, but Jon kept him down, feasting on his Aether and blood like a ravenous beast.
Only when the man's movements ceased did he finally pull away with a gasp. Red stained his chest and his mouth as he looked up at the sky, letting out a pleased groan at the bitter-sweet taste.
"B-By the gods..." Jon turned his head at the whispers of one of the two thugs, who stumbled backwards as he slowly rose to his feet.
"Forget this ever happened and return back to your home," Alluring Eye's Gaze of Command made Jon's eyes widen as he felt the memories being torn away from the young man's psyche, whose eyes glassed over as he gave a dull nod.
As the scribe left, his gaze turned back to the two thugs and he enjoyed their racing heart as he gave a fanged grin.
"Now, you may scream and you may run, but know that you will be dead before the morning sun rises."
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The Next Day:
New Keep:
'He's skilled,' Wynafryd Manderly was silent as she stood on the high stone walkway overlooking the New Keep's inner courtyard.
Below, her brown eyes tracked the swift form of House Stark's bastard doing rhythmic cut-and-thrust shield drills with the other two squires of her uncle Wendel and Ser Marlon.
In truth, she did not know why she had come to see the young man train, but he did make for a better sight than most. Bastard or not, the Starks were said to be rather handsome men and Jon did not disappoint.
'A shame of his bastard status, though. Had he been a Stark, he would have made quite the choice for husband.'
"It is a rare sight to see you any place that is not the Sept of the Snows or your room, sister dearest." Wynafryd turned her gaze as she heard her sister speak, Wylla having a soft smirk on her face as she stopped beside her.
"What do you need now, Wylla?"
"Is it such a crime for a sister to see what her elder sibling is up to?" Wynafryd didn't reply as Wylla leaned over the stone balustrade.
"It is when you are the one doing so."
"Are you mad that I interrupted you watching the young Stark train, sister?" Wynafryd narrowed her eyes at her sister, whose smirk broadened into a grin as she looked down.
Following her stare, Jon was in full-motion, sparring against both the other two squires and surprisingly holding his own with a smirk.
Compared to their aggressive movements, his was more focused on defence, deflecting and parrying their attacks into the path of the others.
"Ooh, look at those shoulders. It just makes you light-headed, doesn't it sister?"
"Do not be ridiculous, Wylla!" Wynafryd snapped, though she couldn't help the flush to her cheeks as her younger sister snickered.
"I'm simply saying that you did not care for paying attention to the other squires."
"Well, he is our grandfather's squire. It is only natural that I observe the quality of the man serving him."
"And not for the fact that he does not pant like a fat hog after training? Nor his looks?" Wylla teased and Wynafryd rolled her eyes even as Wylla bumped hips with a giggle.
"It is merely his skill and loyalty that I wish to pay attention to, sister."
"But of course, sister." Wynafryd ignored Wylla's sarcastic tone as she looked back down, watching as Jon parried and struck the side of Lyonel.
The squire buckled and gagged with the blow before Jon turned, blocking the maul strike from Rondil. The squire in question continued with his harsh attacks and Jon took them.
His swings were heavy, but Wynafryd watched as Jon was able to perfectly take them all on before he stepped forward as Rondil stepped back.
The squire panicked and swung again, but that left his back foot unstable and Wynafryd's eyes widened as Jon grabbed and heaved Rondil over his shoulder.
The wind was knocked from the squire's lungs as Jon spun with his throw, holding the tip of his sword to Rondil's throat while his eyes were locked onto Lyonel's coughing form.
It was then that the heavy iron-studded gates creaked open. Ser Marlon marched through and Wynafryd frowned as the man was dressed in full steel plate.
Behind him marched ten of their house guards that were also dressed in their steel plate armour and she watched as the knight walked towards Jon who lowered his weapons.
"Snow! Did you have a good night's rest?!"
"I did, ser."
"Good! It is time!"
"Time for what?" Lyonel asked and Wynafryd herself tried to listen in before her eyes widened as Marlon's eyes moved up to her and Wylla with a knowing look.
"Lady Wynafryd! I hear the Lady Leona has been looking for ya!"
"Thank you, ser. We'll be sure to go and look for her."
"I do not want to," Wylla whined, grumbling as Wynafryd gave her a glaring stare before the two sisters made their way towards the main entrance of the keep.
All the while, Wynafryd's eyes glanced back, meeting Jon's gaze as he smiled and bowed his head.
'Intriguing indeed.'
A/N: I know I said double chapters, but some family shit came up and unfortunately, I didn't feel like writing a second.
As for what family shit, let's just say I learned some rather disturbing stuff about my family that I shouldn't have.
Anyway, next chapter: Mini-Skirmish.
As always, read, enjoy, review and until the next one...
Ba-Bye~!!