A Grand Escape

The journey to Eastwatch had been long and tiring, but joyous all the same. The cold wind had whipped at them but they were lucky and hadn't been seen by any of the patrols nor had any alarm been raised. That must have meant that no one had found Jon Snow yet. As they neared closer to the lift at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, Josmyn pushed his hood down and spread a smile on his face. He heard Florien musing as to why Snow hadn't come with them, Josmyn merely shrugged. While he and the northern bastard weren't all that different in their upbringing, they had had very different fathers. Even in Dorne, he'd heard tales of the honorable Lord Eddard Stark. His own father, Oberyn, had favored efficiency over honor. It was a lesson Josmyn had taken to heart.

He thought about debating the merits of honor with Florien but decided against it. They were too close to Eastwatch now and it would not do to get caught this close to escaping. Josmny made his way down the Wall via the lift and began walking towards the docks.
“This way,” he called over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the sails and he noticed one that was orange and red. The colors of his house. His uncle had arranged for the sails to bear those colors, at least until they got into the water properly. It was how Josmyn knew what boat to take.

He offered a kind smile to the few brothers that were milling about, either having just woken up or about to go to bed. None of them asked him what he was doing there or anything. Josmyn was one of the men that regularly visited Eastwatch to bring supplies to Castle Black. It was not an unusual sight to see him at the Night's Watch's port of call. The sun was beginning to rise and people were beginning to stir, properly. He shot Florien a sharp look and sped up his pace. They needed to be safely ensconced in the ship's cargo hold before too many of their black brothers were coherent enough to ask questions.

Zigzagging a path through the castle and towards the docks, Josmyn set a firm look on his face, one that said he was on a mission and not to be messed with. Absently, his fingers tightened their grasp on his spear as he moved, preparing to use it if anyone should decide to become a road block. While he'd felt a kinship with Jon Snow and the brothers he'd served with at Castle Black, these men would only be obstacles in his trip home. Obstacles he would surmount by any means.

Soon, he began to hear the lapping of the waves against the wooden docks. They were getting close. The prince turned a corner and found himself on the pier that would take him to his ship, to his home. A happy smile spread across his face for the first time since he'd been made to take the black. Truly, he was going to be warm and in the town of Sunspear again. Not only would he be home, he'd be there to rule. Indeed, the winds of change were blowing in his favor for once.

As Martell stepped onto the boat, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a flash of white fur in the rising sunlight. Now that was curious. Had Jon Snow truly intended to go with them only to be overcome by his conscience on the way or had he just imagined the fur, seeing what he wanted to see? Whatever the truth was, it was unlikely to be found out now. If Josmyn ever saw Jon Snow again, it would be when the younger man came to try and claim his head. What a shame.

The captain of the boat greeted them, looking at Josmyn closely for a moment. Without a second's hesitation, Martell pulled free a pouch of gold as well as his uncle's seal. Pressing three gold coins into the man's hand, the sailor nodded, waving them on board as he started to shout at those on his boat.

Taking in one last cold breath, Josmyn stepped beneath deck, Florien following closely on his heels.