#thats everything

Another day, another summons to join Joffrey in the stadium.

Sansa sighs but does her best to smile for the man in her doorway, for she knows any sense of displeasure would be told to the emperor without hesitation. The man, seemingly satisfied with her response, bows and backs out from the room, allowing the door to slam closed behind.

When she's alone, all of the fight leaves her and she sinks into the nearest chair, head in hands. Yet another day where she's to be forced to witness the gruesome violence that is the gladiator colosseum. Every drop of blood is a reminder of her father's execution, every hour spent in the crowd only more fuel for her nightmares. "My lady... perhaps you are feeling unwell this morning?" It's Shae, her ever loyal handmaiden, prompting her with an excuse she might use to get out of the day's events. But Sansa smiles for her lady and shakes her head, instead rising up from the chair. She is braver than that, than running away from what frightens her.

She might yet be betrothed to a tyrant, chained to a family that had the rest of her's murdered in cold blood... But she was a Stark, through and through, and though she was so very far from the North, she could feel the strength that her home offered. I am a Stark, she thinks as Shae begins to undress her from her nightgown, I am strong because I am a Stark.

She was a Stark and so she would be brave.

[ x x x ]

He can hear the crowd shouting, screaming, gasping.

The horror of it all, this gladiator colosseum , even for a seasoned soldier such as himself is tough to take. He's heard of it of course, even way up North in the midst of the Night's Watch, they know some of what goes on in the South. He's heard the rumors of the mad ruler Joffrey, who prefers violence to peace, who abuses the lowest of servants and most noble of knights. There is no one who is immune to the emperor's temper- save for maybe his mother, the golden haired Lannister queen who ruled alongside his father for many of the last twenty years.

Suddenly, the crowd is roaring and Jon feels his stomach turn over. A moment later, the door that leads out into the stadium flies open and before anyone can speak, he knows what's happening. "Your turn." A gruff voice says a moment before he's shoved out the door and into the sunlight.

All around him, eyes are staring down at him; they scream and they stomp their feet, eager to see the blood bath continue on. In front of him, Jon meets gazes with his opponent, an undefeated mountain of a man, who's chest is smeared with blood that is most certainly not his own. Jon gulps. He's skilled enough of a fighter, but against this brute seems impossible. And from the state of the battefield, from the rumors of this man's strength... Jon has to wonder if this will be his end. After everything he's seen, after everything that he's done... This is where it all will come to and end.

From where she sits beside Joffrey in the emperor's box, Sansa sees the newest recruit come out into the stadium center. Her breath catches in her throat- she's seen hair like that before and it certainly wasn't there in the South. Beside Joffrey, ser Merryn leans in to speak to him. "From the North," he says, shooting a sidelong glance at the young woman seated beside the emperor. Sure enough, as Sansa had thought, this was a man from the North, from her home. But how, she wonders, watching the man as he squares up in front of Joffrey's champion, the Mountain, how has a Northern man ended up here?

"Ah, one of those black crows, eh?" Joffrey asks, green eyes flashing with danger in the sunlight. "Do you know him, sweet lady?" His eyes are upon her instead and for a moment, she freezes. "He looks like your traitor father." Joffrey goes on, gesturing towards the gladiator that now raises a sword as the battle prepares to begin. "But all your traitor brothers are dead, so I imagine it's just another piss poor criminal from Wintertown." Joffrey turns away from her then, back to facing the fight that's just begun.

[ x x x ]

One more swing, one more!

He's pushing himself, harder and further than he's ever pushed himself before. For the first time in all his life, he's thankful for his short stature, giving him ample opportunity over the beast of a man he's facing. Where the man is slow, Jon is quick. His agile movements are too much for him and Jon knows by the end of the third round that if he gets the right chance, he might actually survive.

Now it's the sixth round and Jon knows the final moment must come.

And so he puts it all into this last swing- a quick upper cut movement that catches the Mountain off guard- and for the several moments after he lands back on his feet, Jon isn't certain he's managed to pull it off. But then he glances at his sword- it's stained crimson and dripping. Behind him, he hears the man stagger and then, the crowd goes silent as he falls to his knees and then to the ground. Dead.

Then... The crowd erupts.

[ x x x ]

It's no more than a few minutes when he's approached by the man in charge of the gladiators and another man, well dressed and fair-haired. "You, boy." The gladiator barks, catching Jon's attention where he stands, mid-wiping the blood from his hands. "Come with us."

"To where?" Jon asks, dark gaze sharper than his voice. "I was told if I won I would have my freedom back." He only longs to return North, to find Ghost and live out his days in a place where no one might ever find him.

"And your freedom you shall have," the second man speaks, his green eyes bright in the sunlight that streams in through the nearby open window. "As winner in the stadium, you have the great honor of meeting our emperor." He continues, gesturing for him to take a left down the corridor and towards a door that leads up a set up stairs, which sure enough as he climbs up them Jon can hear the emperor's harsh laughter.

Stepping through the doorway, Jon is lead across the way to where the emperor sits, but it is not the man that catches Jon's interest first. Rather, it is a young woman with hair a shade of vibrant red that seems quite out of sorts among these blonde and brunette southerners. He's seen that shade of hair color before, a Tully born boy who had once joined the ranks of the Night's Watch had hair of the same shade. But beyond the color of her hair... She was beautiful. So beautiful that when she turns to face him, the breath is stolen from his lungs. Her eyes are clear and blue, but lovely as they might be, he finds their gaze to be sad, the eyes of a woman lost.

"So you've defeated my champion."

The sharp voice belongs to the emperor, who Jon has quite honestly forgotten was there. He turns to face the man instead, though he's hesitant to tear his gaze from the lovely woman at his side. "Aye, so I have." Jon replies, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. "It was that or die. I preferred the first option." For a second, there is only silence, until Joffrey lets out a laugh that startles those around them.

"A jester are you, crow?" Joffrey takes a step closer to where Jon stands and it's only then that Jon notices the striking resemblance between him and the man that had led him up to where he stands now. "You would make a far better champion." Now Jon knows where this is going. "I can make you a wealthy man, far wealthier than your meager coins made in the ranks of the crows." He's offering him a choice- to stay and be his new champion of the gladiator colosseum , or... "Or you may go, it is the law of the colosseum and I am a man of my word." Beside him, the young woman flinches, but it is so quick that Jon is certain he's the only one who's noticed. "But be my champion, I will give you all the wealth you could dream of."

For what feels like a lifetime, Jon stands there, silent and still. Only moments ago, his answer had been strong, had been absolute. But now that he stands there in the presence of this young woman, something is nagging at him. Something about her is calling out to him and despite it all, he wants to heed her call. He doesn't even know her name, but with that single glance, she's set fire to his heart and soul.