"Those bruises look quite ugly."
Loras turned around sharply, only to find Jon standing at the entrance of his tent with that infuriating smirk of his.
"Well, we can't all defeat our opponents on the second or third pass," he replied dryly as he waved away the Maester, who had already finished applying ointment to most of his injuries.
"I had hoped Ser Barristan would at least give you some trouble, but alas..." Loras continued as he picked up his shirt. "It seems I was being too naive. We haven't even fought yet, but I already feel as if I am bound to lose," he said with a snort, though there was a faint trace of frustration beneath the humour.
Loras was a true prodigy, of that Jon had no doubt.
He could only imagine the amount of effort the boy had put into honing his skills to reach such a level.
But alas... Jon needed the win, the attention of the crowd, if his plans were to succeed, so for now, he could only make him lose by using cheats.
I'll just make it up to him later.
"You know, my squire told me he knew a way to acquire a mare in heat," Loras suddenly said while putting on his shoes. "You think it would have helped me in our match?"
"Well, it won't now..." Jon replied with an amused look on his face, "But I feel I should tell you that Peggy is, in fact, a female, and her standards are very high, so I do not believe this sort of trick would have much of an effect on her."
"Ah, I should have noticed that," Loras said with a shake of his head. "Never mind, then."
He waved the matter away, as the two of them stepped out of the tent together.
Loras's tent was very close to the grounds, allowing them to head directly towards the nobles' stand without passing through the commoner area, which was completely packed at the moment, with all the smallfolks simultaneously rushing towards the city gates, creating a bottleneck that made movement nearly impossible.
Most of the nobles, on the other hand, had chosen to wait and enjoy their refreshments until the crowds thinned.
"Look at her," Loras suddenly said, jerking his head towards his sister in the distance, sitting in their family stands. "I am the one who just fought a tiring match and ended up covered in bruises, yet somehow I feel her eyes are on you."
"Well, who can blame her?" Jon replied with a smirk as he exchanged a fleeting glance with Margaery, who was speaking with her elder brother. "After all, it is hard for anyone to deny a handsome face."
It took a special kind of confidence to boast about one's looks while standing beside Loras Tyrell, whose face had probably broken more hearts than his lance had won him games in the lists.
Loras rolled his eyes at that before continuing, "I still do not know how you convinced my grandmother to let you court my sister... But I must say I am somewhat glad that it is you," he said thoughtfully, "After all, you are much better than the usual parade of Nobles who ride to Highgarden to court my sister," he grimaced as if remembering some unpleasant memories.
"I can only say that I am deeply grateful for your approval," Jon said, patting Loras on the shoulder with a look of exaggerated gratitude.
Loras ignored the theatrics. "I can't say the same about our relatives, though," he said, subtly gesturing towards the varied group of men and women sitting in the surroundings of their platform, and sure enough, Jon could notice a lot of unpleasant glances and disdainful glares from here and there thrown his way.
"Whether close relatives or distant ones, they have all been hounding Grandmother's doorstep from morning until evening, telling her she was foolish for allowing someone like... you to get close to Margaery."
"To her face?" Jon asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, they went about it in circles, trying to be subtle about it," Loras snorted, "Some of them gave examples of their cousins' sisters-in-law's girl who had her reputation ruined by the bastard of some Noble house," he sent a pointed glance at Jon who rolled his eyes, "While others suggested alternative that would be much more suitable for their family... but their meanings were as clear as day."
"And? How did she respond?" Jon asked curiously.
"Ambiguously," Loras answered with a shrug. "Mostly by telling them that you were merely a valuable trading partner and a friend of Margaery's, and that everything else was nothing more than rumour."
Jon nodded. He had expected as much. It would have been far too early for Lady Olenna to officially name their relationship this early in the game when the stakes were still so low.
"And were they satisfied with that?"
Loras snorted.
"Not in the slightest. Most of them assumed that she's finally gone senile, and began to spread whispers that it was only a matter of time before she croaked... which amused Grandmother more than anything."
He smiled before his expression gradually turned serious as they slowed to a stop a few yards from the Tyrell platform. "Father is another matter, though."
Jon glanced at him.
"We've managed to keep him in the dark for the most part, but I don't know how much longer that can last. And when he does find out..." Loras shook his head. "He could become a serious obstacle to whatever it is you and Grandmother are planning."
Loras had never considered himself particularly gifted at politics, but even he could tell that his grandmother, Willas, and Jon must be weaving together a conspiracy, with all their shadowy alliance, that was far greater than a simple trading partnership.
And while he had no desire to involve himself in their schemes, he still felt compelled to offer Jon a warning.
"Oh..."
"Yes. And when Father digs his heels in, he can be incredibly stubborn. And those are the times when he wouldn't even listen to Grandmother," Loras said with a frown. "And I have a feeling that this would be exactly the kind of matter he would feel strongly about. After all, Margaery is his daughter, and he is the Lord of Highgarden. According to both law and custom, the decision should be his."
He looked Jon in the eye.
"So what I am saying is... be prepared for his hostility."
"Ah, don't worry. I know exactly how to handle him," Jon replied, giving his chest a confident pat.
"Somehow that does not fill me with a lot of confidence," Loras murmured with a sigh before he shook his head and waved his hand in farewell, then climbed up the Tyrell platform, where his family was eagerly waiting to congratulate him on his victory.
Jon, on the other hand, broke away and headed towards a smaller, more secluded place near the back where an elderly woman was sitting all by herself out in the open, with a small tea table and two chairs, leisurely enjoying a plate of cheese while a pair of fearsome twin guards stood watch over her.
"Why are you sitting here all alone?" Jon asked as he walked past the two guards, who barely glanced at him, and dropped into the chair beside her without invitation.
"Ugh, I could stand the endless chattering and cheers any longer", Olenna grumbled.
She shot him a curious look.
"And you? Why are you here? Shouldn't you be out there celebrating your win with your brother or something?"
"I will. But first, I needed to ask you something important."
Olenna raised an eyebrow.
"The grain?"
"The grain," Jon confirmed with a nod. "How far away is the shipment now?"
"Another two or three days, according to the latest letters," Olenna replied thoughtfully. "I still do not understand what game you are playing with this. What was the point of demanding such a large shipment so urgently?" She narrowed her eyes. "Do not tell me you intend to give to charity and feed half of King's Landing for some well wishes."
Jon chuckled.
"No. Though I suppose that would earn me a few cheers."
Olenna merely stared at him, unimpressed.
"Patience, my lady. Patience." Jon continued with a mysterious smile. "You will understand soon enough. Just know that those grain ships are merely the first step in a plan that will eventually bring us everything we want."
"You ask a great deal of an old woman by telling her to be patient?" Olenna scoffed as she studied him for a few moments. "You mean to corner the grain market?"
Jon shook his head.
"Buy influence with the Gold Cloaks?"
"No."
Her frown deepened.
"Then what in the Seven Hells are you planning to do with all that grain?"
Jon looked towards the sprawling city beyond the tourney grounds before a grin slowly spread across his face.
"Just clean some shit..."
///