Behind him, the other swordsman was still struggling with the knight.
"Move away, you idiot!" the lanky man snarled, impatiently trying to shove the bull-like man aside so he could get to Margaery.
"No. You promised you wouldn't hurt her. You can't—"
"Ah, you fucker!" The swordsman shoved him again, his frustration boiling over. "Don't you care about your wife anymore?! She'll fucking die a miserable death if you keep getting in my way!"
He couldn't understand whose side the idiot was anymore, and wondered if it wouldn't have been better to just kill him off after he brought them to this ambush site. "And you're already a traitor, so what the fuck are you still dawdling for—"
But mid-argument, both of them heard a muffled scream and turned towards the sound, only to see that in the few seconds that they had been arguing, Jon had already dealt with the two men on the other side of the alley.
One lay dead with a hole through his skull, while the other clutched desperately at his throat, blood gushing between his fingers.
The sight sent an involuntary shiver down the lanky man's spine.
He had always known the boy was a formidable knight. How could he not? He had watched Jon cross lances with the likes of Ser Barristan, Jaime Lannister, the Blackfish, Lord Royce, and others—and watched him defeat them.
But he had never imagined that the boy possessed the same terrifying prowess with the blade.
He had dispatched his two fellows in mere seconds, slaughtering them as effortlessly as a butcher might deal with chickens.
"Fuck! G-Go! Go deal with him!" The lanky man flusteredly shoved the knight towards Jon.
The knight hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and advanced resolutely.
"I can't let you pass—"
Jon had no intention of wasting any more time. He immediately went on the attack, his sword flashing through the air with the speed of a striking viper.
But the knight was ready for him this time.
And while he too was clearly outskilled by Jon, his fundamentals were solid, and rather than try to meet Jon's blows head-on, he relied on his armour to absorb most of the deadly strikes.
Steel rang against steel and armour as he steadily gave ground, but unlike the bald man, he managed to hold his own.
Ah, damn it! This is taking too long. Jon cursed inwardly as he struggled to put the knight down.
Realistically, if he simply calmed down and put his full strength into the fight, he knew it wouldn't take more than a minute to defeat him. But he didn't have—
"Ah!"
A woman's scream echoed through the alley.
Jon's head snapped towards the sound, and his heart lurched when he saw that his worst fear had come to pass.
Margaery was cowering against the wall, desperately backing away as the lanky mercenary advanced towards her, an ugly grin spreading across his face.
The knight flinched at the scream, a pained expression crossing his face, but ultimately he gritted his teeth and continued to block Jon's path.
Damn it! Jon knew things would go badly if Margaery was captured, but there was little he could do while the knight kept him occupied. Do I really have to take the risk?
"Don't worry, my lady. It won't hurt..." The lanky swordsman leered as he slowly approached her. "Too much."
But he never got the chance to do anything more.
"Ah! Fuck!"
The lanky man suddenly stumbled, nearly losing his balance. Looking down in shock, he saw the old knight—an arrow still buried in his chest—clinging desperately to his leg with both hands.
"Let go, you mad fucker!"
He screamed as he kicked the face of the old knight again and again.
But the old knight refused to let go, his grip tightening around the man's leg even as blood poured from his wound.
Go! Old man, go! Jon cheered inwardly at the sudden turn of events.
Marynd was also momentarily distracted by his temporary associate's plight, and that... was all Jon needed.
Jon immediately changed his grip and crashed it against Maynard's sword at an awkward angle, putting his entire strength behind the blow.
The knight's blade was knocked aside, leaving his guard open.
Jon immediately feinted a thrust towards his throat.
Maynard instinctively flinched and raised his armoured forearm to protect himself. Exactly as Jon had hoped.
Jon's foot shot forward.
Bam!
His kick slammed into Maynard's midriff with the full force of his body, hurling the knight off balance and sending him crashing into the wall.
Maynard's head struck stone as he slumped to the ground, dazed and motionless for several moments.
In the same motion, Jon spun around and charged towards the lanky swordsman, fury written across his face.
"Stop!"
The shout scared the shit out of the bastard.
"Argh! Shoot him, you bastard!" he screamed in panic at the fat man behind him.
"The bird won't let me!" the fatty screamed in frustration, not even able to open his eyes.
His face was filled with dozens of angry red scratches, and he wanted nothing more than to grab the blasted bird and smush it on the ground, but he couldn't even capture her shadow, no matter how many times he swung.
That was when the lanky glanced towards Margaery and realised she was already some meters away, having slipped past him while he was distracted.
"Damn it!" he cursed, abandoning any thought of facing Jon and instead making a desperate grab for Margaery. "Stop!"
"Ah!" Margaery screamed as she ran towards Jon, but her foot caught at the worst possible moment, sending her stumbling to the ground.
The lanky man grinned in triumph. He rushed forward and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back and trying to pull her in front of him as a shield.
"Stop! I have her in my—"
That was as far as he got before a tremendous force slammed into his abdomen as Jon crashed into him like a charging bull and tackled him to the ground.
His back slammed against the stone, driving the air from his lungs. Dazed, the lanky man clawed desperately for his sword, trying to push Jon away.
"Get off—"
Shhk!
Jon's blade punched into his side, driving between his ribs and deep into his abdomen.
"No... no, I don't want... to... die..."
He clutched desperately at the sword, as though holding it could somehow keep life from leaving him.
Jon mercilessly ripped the blade free and rose, as the man collapsed and shuddered before falling still.
Damn, that hurt! Jon grimaced as he rubbed the shoulder he'd used to spear the sellsword. They make it look so easy on WWE.
After a quick glance towards Margaery to make sure she was unharmed, he turned his attention to the last man still standing.
"No... n-no, stay away from me!" The fat man cried in terror, staring at Jon through the haze of the furious hummingbird flitting around his face. He had just witnessed his final companion's death, and terror had completely taken over him.
"I-I'll kill you!" he screamed, raising the weapon wildly and pulling the trigger without looking.
"Ah! Shit!"
Jon ducked just in time as the bolt whistled past his head, missing him by mere inches and stirring his hair as it flew past.
Fuck! That scared me!
Jon shuddered, his face paling as he stared after the bolt. That had been far too close for comfort.
"You little shit!" Jon cursed as he strode towards the snivelling fat bastard.
"No, don't—"
His plea was cut short by the sword that punched through his throat.
Shikk!
Jon pulled his blade free and took a deep breath, feeling surprisingly tired despite having killed only a handful of men.
It really is so much easier with a bow.
"Ah!"
The knight's shout made Jon turn. To his surprise, Maynard had recovered and was already coming towards him with renewed determination.
Damn it. Can't I get a few seconds of rest?
Jon sighed inwardly and moved to meet him, looking considerably calmer now that there was only one opponent left.
Leaning back to evade the knight's wild slashes, Jon calmly and efficiently deflected each blow, ducking beneath the wider swings and letting the others pass harmlessly overhead.
As luck would have it, the knight had yet to fully recover from his previous ordeal. His movements were slower now, his strikes lacking the strength and precision they had possessed earlier.
It took only a slight overextension for Jon to find his opening.
He knocked the knight's blade upward, then followed through in the same motion, bringing his own sword crashing down against the man's wrist.
The knight's fingers went slack, and his sword went flying.
"H-How are you so strong—"
A roundhouse kick to the chest cut him off, sending him crashing into the wall once again.
"Stay down this time," he ordered the groaning knight as he finally sheathed his sword and let out a relieved breath before hurrying over to Margaery.
"Are you alright?" Jon asked with concern in his voice as he pulled her up from the ground.
"I... I... yes, I am fine, I think." She was a little dazed as she stared at the dead bodies around them, never having thought in a million years that her day would turn out like this.
"Wasn't what you expected of our outing, was it?" Jon asked with a sheepish smile.
"No, it wasn't," she replied as she turned back and studied him closely with a calmness that unnerved the boy.
"Well, you can't deny that it was going rather well before all this. And if anything, this only makes it more unique. The sort of thing you'll be able to tell stories about someday, eh?" Jon forced a laugh, trying to make light of the situation. He had no idea what he was supposed to do or say after something like this, especially when he had been the real target, and she had merely been the collateral caught in the middle.
"And earlier, I didn't actually abandon you. It's just that I knew your knight wouldn't actually—"
He never finished as Margaery suddenly stepped forward and closed the distance between them.
For a moment, Jon forgot how to breathe, as he got lost in her big, brown eyes.
And then... she kissed him.
The swords, the crossbows, and the corpses scattered across the alley, even the frantic pounding of his own heart—all of it seemed to disappear beneath the warmth of her lips against his.
He stood there completely frozen, his mind utterly blank as he tried to comprehend what was happening.
She's kissing me.
The thought barely formed before another sensation overwhelmed it.
She was soft.
So unbelievably soft.
And then, just as he was beginning to lose himself in it, she pulled away.
Jon's eyes opened.
...That's it?
It couldn't have lasted more than a heartbeat. It had been far too short.
Not enough.
His mind protested instinctively.
And apparently, Margaery felt the same.
Because just as she was about to pull away, she hesitated. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before she leaned forward again and captured his lips in another kiss.
This one lasted a little longer.
Jon's heart hammered against his chest as he finally, belatedly, remembered that he was supposed to be participating in this rather than standing there like a stunned idiot, so he held her waist and lowered his head to enjoy himself fully.
When she finally pulled away, he was left staring at her, utterly dazed.
"Thank you for saving me," Margaery whispered as she smiled up at him.
And somehow, that smile hit him even harder than the kiss, and left him weak in the knees.
"Anytime," Jon answered dazedly, still feeling a little out of it. "Ahem, can I get another—"
"Ugh!"
A groan interrupted them at precisely the wrong moment.
"If it's all the same to you, lad, I would appreciate some help here before you get on with... whatever it is you were about to do." The old knight, an arrow still lodged in his side, spoke up while trying to suppress an amused smile.
"Ah! Sorry!" Margaery exclaimed, suddenly flustered as she hurriedly stepped away from Jon, her cheeks turning crimson.
Ah, damn it, old man. Couldn't you have waited a few seconds?
Jon cursed internally, but the sight of the footprints on the old knight's face and chest made him soften up.
FIne. I'll forgive
The old knight seemed to catch the boy's resentment and rolled his eyes.
"I don't mind waiting, lad, but the boy hasn't moved since he was shot, so..."
"Ah, yes."
Jon immediately sobered and turned towards the youngest fallen knight, who hadn't even twitched since taking the arrow.
Crouching beside him, Jon turned him over and closely examined the wound.
"He's going to be fine. The arrow didn't pierce very deep, thanks to the armour. He probably fainted from the shock." Jon glanced at the boy's young face before frowning. "Still, it'd be better if he received proper treatment soon."
He reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a quill and a small piece of parchment.
After quickly scribbling a short message, he rolled the parchment and held it out for Tweety.
"Take this to Robb."
The hummingbird chirped and immediately took flight.
"Don't worry. Help will be here soon."
The old knight nodded, finally allowing himself to relax. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, trying to steady his breathing and forget about the pain.
Jon patted his knees, stood up and finally turned his attention to the fallen knight.
"Now, let's talk."
///
If you feel that you can't wait for the next one: pa*reon.com/lazywizard