Chapter 117: Inheritance
Bjorn had never much liked court business or trade or politics. Yet here he is in the stand, speaking with Lord Renly Baratheon as if they were merchants instead of lords who is here supposedly for the The Finals of the Joust.
All for His Damm Father telling him to use more of his head. Damnit Father.
Lord Renly, at least, made it easy to speak with him. Apparently the Man is also interested and has a good opinion of him probably due to his old man. Bjorn Thought
Lord Renly seems to admire His father, he did mention they knew him from years back from Lord Renly Childhood.
Well whatever it is , he is impressive.
He had the easy grace of a man who had grown up with politics and learned to wear it with charm the way Bjorn wore steel. He smiled often, listened well, and seemed to understand every lord and thier words.
Bjorn did not mind that and even appreciated the Lord for this.
"The Stormlands have always had trouble moving goods cheaply through the ports in bulk and maintenance of quality products," Renly was saying, his tone light but his eyes attentive. "The conditions and weather at the harbors make some of our best trade impossible unless the merchants are willing to risk losing profit."
Bjorn folded his arms and listened.
"My Lord we could bring Essosi goods in at better rates," he said, "spices, silks, oils, and the like, then the Stormlands would benefit as much as the crown. But we need Lesser tariffs for our ships, lower harbor duties for trade from approved ports, and in return I promise as a Acting Lord of Sea Dragon point to send more traffic through your docks."
Renly's mouth curved slightly. "Well very well then, I really like your Offer. Lord Bjorn but we would need to discuss the discount you are giving us and quantity of the products"
Bjorn gave a small shrug. "I listen you. We can talk after this Tourney. I will also talk to Father if we can do anything more for you."
"I would be very grateful for this , " Renly said smiling.
Bjorn did not answer that. He only kept his face steady and his voice calm.
Nearby, Artos had noticed the exchange.
He watched his son with a quiet, thoughtful expression, though he said nothing at first.
But There was definitely pride in his eye, but also something deeper — the sober recognition of a thing that had changed.
He has grown, Artos thought smiling
Not just in body, though that was plain enough. Bjorn had become a large man, broad and formidable, with the shape of a warrior in him . But it was more than that now. That night made him speaking like a lord, thinking like one, weighing coin, ports, taxes, and power instead of only blood and fists.
Artos's mouth curved faintly.
'Well he needed it.'
He had once feared his son would be all his anger and rage . But Now he could see the shape of something Mature. But at the same time Something harder and Something more dangerous.
'A son who could inherit more than my blade.' Artos smiled proudly and turned his attention back to the lists.
The final was beginning.
Loras rode out beneath the noise of the crowd with his helm tucked under his arm and his mind settled and he looked ready to win the glory.
Gregor Clegane sat across from him like a mountain of rage.
Robb smiled "More bets Lord Tyrion, I would be happy to match it." He said teasing Tyrion.
Tyrion smiled " Oh , I think I am quite okay. Afterall I already owe your Uncle a meeting. I think it is wise to not owe more " he said with a wine in his hand
Robb smiles back.
The herald's cry rang out.
"My Lords and Ladies, it is finally time for the Finals, The Mountain Vs The Knight of the.... wolf"
People cheered for this. They are really pumped and excited about the match.
The first pass came hard.
Clegane struck like a falling tree, and Loras met him with speed and angle, not force.
Their lances shattered together, splintering into shards that flew high above the lists. The crowd roared at once.
Loras did not slow.
He wheeled his horse around, already calculating.
The second pass was cleaner.
He shifted just enough to make the Mountain miss the center of his shield. His own lance struck home, shaking Clegane in the saddle but not throwing him. Loras felt the impact in his shoulder, in his wrist, in the horse beneath him.
The third pass came with the smell of dust and sweat and iron filling the air.
Loras heard the crowd as if from far away. He saw only the lane ahead, the shape of the Mountain, the line of his lance, the moment before contact.
Clegane came at him with fury.
Loras waited.
Not too soon.
Not too late.
At the final heartbeat he turned the lance a fraction and drove it into the gap where the man's defense had opened.
The blow cracked across the Mountain's shield and shoved him backward in the saddle.
Then, with a final ugly crash, Clegane lost his seat and went down hard into the dirt.
For a breath, there was silence.
Then the stands exploded.
Loras raised his lance, and the world seemed to turn golden around him.
He had done it.
He had won the tourney.
He looked toward the stands, toward Artos, toward Robb, toward Bjorn , Towards the people who had watched him grow from a boy into this moment.
Robb is happy beyond belief even Artos is openly smiling that says a lot.
Bjorn is the one who is happy the most as Loras and He trained together most of the times along with Jon.
The noise washed over him like a tide. The crowd is going crazy
Bjorn saw the celebration and joined in too.
He saw Loras raise his lance and the crowd break into noise. He saw the Folks erupt in cheers.
For a moment, the world seemed to settle.
Untill he saw Gregor Clegane move.
Bjorn's mind snapped into motion.
The Mountain is rising again and coming toward Loras with a sword in hand.
It is the act of a beast coming at another man like this.
"LORASSSSS!" Bjorn shouted.
At the same time, anger surged through him so fast and hard that he was already moving before the rest of the world understood what was happening.
He stood up leapt from the stands immediately breaking through. He jumped all over the Lords and Ladies sitting there.
There was no thought in it now, only motion.
He landed hard, a waraxe in hand, and tries shovinv himself between the Mountain and Loras just as Clegane's blade came down.
Loras had only enough time to twist aside. Thankfully The sword struck the horse instead.
The animal screamed and fell.
Bjorn's seeing his Foster brother down like this, attacked like this. His axe came up at once to protect him.
Gregor Clegane was enormous, taller than most men by a head and broader than most knight .But Bjorn isn't afraid as he is large brute himself, a giant of a man forged from Artos Stark's blood and Skagosi blood both, A Savage and a Wolf both.
Clegane still loomed over him like some cruel monument.
It did not matter.
Bjorn knew one thing his father had taught him well.
Any man could be killed if blood flows in hi.
His father had told him that speed, instinct, and luck were the things that saved men when strength failed them. Bjorn believed that now more than ever. He believes he has the first two and He right now will make his own luck.
Artos saw it all.
He saw the rage in Bjorn's . He saw the speed and the fury. He saw how his son was not merely fighting, but teaching the entire realm a lesson. A lesson to remember for the realm
Raka had already begun to move with the guards to save Loras and intervene in Mountain and Bjorn
Artos raised a hand and stopped him.
"No, stop right here " he said.
Raka blinked. "My lord—"
"Let the boy handle it. He is capable of this."
Raka hesitated, but Artos's voice carried Authority that wouldn't be challenged.
His son was there in the dust, not just fighting for Loras but becoming something else in front of every lord and lady in the realm.
Artos understood the message better than any of them. Afterall He is usually the one giving that message himself.
Artos smiles
Bjorn is not only defending a friend.
He was showing the realm what the Starks are once again.
What Artos has done for years . Now it is his son turns.
With blood, grief, and discipline could forge when they were all mixed together.
He knew what would be it's implications and consequences. Especially from that old Lion. Especially now he wants to make a deal to him.
But He could not have cared less about the political consequences.
Not now.
Not when he was watching his son inherit more than land or gold he built but inheriting the name.
The weight.
The fear.
The reputation.
He will not care when his family his concerned. Politics and Lords can go fuck themselves.
Bjorn attacked at once.
Not with a single great blow, but with a storm of them. He won't let this bastard control the blows exchanged between them.
He kept the Mountain busy, forcing him to turn, to block, to react. He struck hard and fast, using his axe less like a blade and more like a hammer, burying each hit into steel and flesh beneath it until the man had to feel every impact through his armor. Giving him pain again and again.
Although he doubted whether the man could feel it.
Gregor tried to swing his greatsword, but Bjorn was already inside the arc before the blade could fully fall.
He struck the man's chest.
The blow rang out like iron upon a bell.
The Mountain staggered back a step.
Bjorn followed him immediately.
No space.
No mercy.
He went for the neck next, slashing hard enough that blood began to run, bright and sudden, down the side of Clegane's armor.
The crowd had gone half-mad by then.
Some were shouting.
Some were screaming.
Some had simply risen to their feet and could do nothing else but stare.
Bjorn kept coming.
The Mountain was still alive, still dangerous, but he was losing ground. Bjorn did not let him breathe. He did not let him gather himself. He hit him again and again, each strike harder than the last.
Then came a blunt blow to the chest that drove Clegane back another step.
Bjorn saw the opening.
He took it.
His axe rose and fell toward the neck once more.
The blade bit deep this time, not enough to kill immediately but it fucked and broke the mountain for a moment.
Blood sprayed across his face.
The Mountain dropped to one knee. He is down.
Every one shocked seeing this but they remember whose son Bjorn is and find it quite familiar and similar.
For a heartbeat it looked as if the fight were done.
The king, who had half risen in his seat to stop this , seems to relax. As Gregor is injured enough and down. But still alive. This shit show is over and Robert is grateful for this.
But it is still very hard to swallow something like this. Mountain going down like this.
Even the guards around the lists hesitated to go near fearing from both the big man.
But Bjorn saw the man was still moving.
And he hasn't had enough. He knew what he needs to do. His Father didn't taught him to do things half assed. He needs to show the realm what will happen if you attack a Wolf's own.
So he lifted the axe again and With his strength made a slash towards Mountain head to end his life .
But Bjorn heard the king shouting.
"Stop this nonsense in the name of your king!"
Bjorn 'Ah shit , It's King order's. Fuck this shit' angry that why King has to interfere in this.
But it didn't matter it's already Too late.
He had already started the final swing.
But he did his best to follow the King Words.He tried to slow.
He did slow.
But not enough.
The axe came down anyway.
Not with full force, but enough.
It struck the Mountain's head and split the skin, drawing blood across the armor and down over Bjorn's own face.
For a moment, everything held still.
Bjorn stood over Gregor Clegane, breathing hard, axe in hand, blood on his face and chest.
Then the world broke into noise again.
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